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shine for ever with new accessions of glory, and brighten to all eternity; that she will be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God himself, to see nis creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him, by greater degrees of resemblance.

table at his own expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very irregular: and that in order to make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them a hassuck and a common-prayer book: and at the same time employed an itinerant singingmaster, who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the Psalms; upon which they now very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap a sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up an looks about him, and if he sees any body else nodding, either wakes them himself or sends his servants to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities break out upon these occasions. Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing Psalms half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces amen three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes stands up when every body else is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing.

Methinks this single consideration of the progress of a finite spirit to perfection, will be sufficient to extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in superior. That cherubim, which now appears as a God to a human soul, knows very well that the period will come about in eternity, when the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now is: nay, when she shall look down upon that degree of perfection, as much as she now falls short of it. It is true, the higher nature still advances, and by that means preserves his distance and superiority in the scale of being; but he knows that how high soever the station is of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. With what astonishment and veneration may we look into our own souls, where there are such hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inexhausted sources of perfection? We know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in reserve for him. The soul, considered with its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a possibility of touching it; and can there be a thought so transporting, as to consider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to him, who is not only the stand-odd manner which accompanies him in all the cirard of perfection but of happiness!-L.

No. 112,1 MONDAY, JULY 9, 1711.
First, in obedience to thy country's rites,
Worship th' immortal gods.—PYTHAG.

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews it seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in that

cumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite enough to see any thing ridiculous in his behaviour; besides that the general good sense and worthiness of his character make his friends observe these little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish his good qualities.

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody preI AM always very well pleased with a country sumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. Sunday, and think, if keeping holy the seventh day The knight walks down from his seat in the chancel were only a human institution, it would be the best between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowmethod that could have been thought of for polishing ing to him on each side; and every now and then and civilizing of mankind. It is certain, the country inquires how such a one's wife, or mother, or son, or people would soon degenerate into a kind of savages father do, whom he does not see at church; which is and barbarians, were there not such frequent re-understood as a secret reprimand to the person that turns of a stated time, in which the whole village is absent. meet together with their best faces, and in their The chaplain has often told me that, upon a catecleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon chising day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with different subjects, hear their duties explained to a boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme be given to him next day for his encouragement; Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the no-to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five tions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon pounds a year to the clerk's place; and that he may appearing in their most agreeable forms, and exert- encourage the young fellows to make themselves ing all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure perfect in the church service, has promised upon the in the eye of the village. A country fellow distin-death of the present incumbent, who is very old, to guishes himself as much in the churchyard, as a ci- bestow it according to merit. tizen does upon the 'Change, the whole parish-poli. ties being generally discussed in that place either after sermon or before the bell rings.

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable, because the very next My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, village is famous for the differences and contentions has beautified the inside of his church with several that arise between the parson and the squire, who texts of his own choosing. He has likewise given a live in a perpetual state of war. The parson is alhandsome palpit-cloth, and railed in the communion-ways preaching at the squire; and the squire, to be The squire has made all his tenants atheists and revenged on the parson, never comes to church. tithe-stealers; while the parson instructs them every

Those lines are what the geometricians call the asympWes of the hyperbola, and the allusion to them here is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful that has ever been made. SPECTATOR Nos. 17 & 18.


Sunday in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to them, in almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron. In short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the squire has not said his prayers either in public or private this half year; and the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation.

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal to the ordinary people, who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, when they know there are several men of five hundred a year who do not believe it. L.

No. 113.] TUESDAY, JULY 10, 1711.

Hærent infixi pectore vultus.--VIRG. Æn. iv. 4. Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart.

In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my time, it may be remembered, that I mentioned a great affliction which my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than a disappointment in love. It happened this evening, that we fell into a very pleasing walk at a distance from his house. As soon as we came into it, "It is," quoth the good old man, looking round him with a smile, "very hard, that any part of my land should be settled upon one who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I could not see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I should reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world. You are to know, this was the place wherein I used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come into it but the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had actually walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I have been fool enough to carve her name on the bark of several of these trees; so unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt the removing of their passion by the methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world."

Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe my friend falling so naturally into a discourse which I had ever before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause, he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had ever had before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his, before it received that stroke which has ever since affected his words and actions. But he went on as follows:

"I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good neighbourhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants, officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man (who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public occasion of showing my figure and behaviour to advantage. You may easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who

am pretty tall, rode well, and was very well aressed, at the head of a whole country, with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse we Ditted. I can assure you I was not a little pleased with the kind looks and glances I had from all the baiconies and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held. But, when I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in court to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This com manding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who beheld her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, until she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a great surprised booby; and knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf as I was, 'Make way for the defendant's witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow. During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took opportu nities to have little billets handed to her counsel then would be in such a pretty confusion, occasioned you must know, by acting before so much company, that not only I but the whole court was prejudiced in her favour; and all that the next heir to her hus band had to urge was thought so groundless and tri volous, that when it came to her counsel to reply. there was not half so much said as every one beside: in the court thought he could have urged to her ad vantage. You must understand, Sir, this pervers woman is one of those unaccountable creatures tha secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but in dulge themselves in no farther consequences. Hence it is that she has ever had a train of admirers, an she removes from her slaves in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of the year. Sh is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures friendship. She is always accompanied by a con fidant, who is witness to her daily protestation against our sex, and consequently a bar to her firs steps towards love, upon the strength of her ow inaxims and declarations.


However, I must need say, this accomplishe mistress of mine has distinguished me above the res and has been known to declare Sir Roger de Coverie was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes i the country. I was told she said so by one wh thought he rallied me; but upon the strength of th slender encouragement of being thought less detes able, I made new liveries, new-paired my coac horses, sent them all to town to be bitted, and taugi to throw their legs well, and move all together, b fore I pretended to cross the country, and wait upo her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to t character of my fortune and youth, I set out fro hence to make my addresses. The particular sk of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishe and yet command respect. To make her mistress this art, she has a greater share of knowledge, w and good sense than is usual even among men merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race women. If you will not let her go on with a certa artifice with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she w arm herself with her real charms, and strike y with admiration instead of desire. It is certain in if you were to behold the whole woman, there is t

Cœnat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, una est
Nævia: si non sit Nævia, mutus erit.
Scriberet hesterna, patri cum luce salutem,
Nævia lux, inquit, Nævia numen, ave.-Epig. i. 69
Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk,
Still he can nothing but of Nævia talk;
Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute,
Still he must speak of Nævia, or be mute.
He writ to his father, ending with this line-
I am, my lovely Navia, ever thine.

No. 114] WEDNESDAY, JULY 11, 1711
-Paupertatis pudor et fuga.-HOR. I Ep. xviii. 24.
-The dread of nothing more

dignity in her aspect, that composure in her motion, that complacency in her manner, that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you fear. But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no country gentleman can approach her without being a jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house I was admitted to her presence with great civility; at the same time she placed herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude, as I think you call the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I at last came towards her with such an awe as made me speechless. This she no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a discourse to me concerning love and honour, as they both are followed by pretenders and the real votaries Than to be thought necessitous and poor.-POOLY. to them. When she discussed these points in a discourse which, I verily believe, was as learned as the ECONOMY in our affairs has the same effect upon best philosopher in Europe could possibly make, she our fortunes which good-breeding has upon our asked me whether she was so happy as to fall in with conversation. There is a pretending behaviour in my sentiments on these important particulars. Her both cases, which instead of making men esteemed, confidant sat by her, and upon my being in the last renders them both miserable and contemptible. We confusion and silence, this malicious aid of her's had yesterday, at Sir Roger's, a set of country genturning to her, says, I am very glad to observe Sir tlemen who dined with him and after dinner the Roger pauses upon this subject, and seems resolved glass was taken, by those who pleased, pretty plento deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when tifully. Among others I observed a person of a he pleases to speak. They both kept their counte-tolerable good aspect, who seemed to be more greedy sances, and after I had sat half an hour meditating of liquor than any of the company, and yet mehow to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in her way, and she as often has directed a discourse to me which I could not understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with all mankind, and you must make love to her as you would conquer the sphinx, by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man be, who could converse with such a creature. But, after all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on some one or other: and yet I have been credibly informed-but who can believe half that is said?-after she had done speaking to me, she put her hand to her bosom, and adjusted her tucker: then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently: her voice in her ordinary speech has something in it inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a public table the day after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the country. She has certainly the finest haud of any woman in the world. I can assure you, Sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the same condition; for as her speech is music, her form is angelic. But I find I grow irregular while I am talking of her; but indeed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh, the excellent creature! she is as inimitable to all women, as she is inaccessible to

all men."

I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him towards the house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which appears in some part of my friend's discourse; though he has so much command of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to that of Martial, which one knows not how to render into English, dum tacet hanc loquitur. I shall end this paper with that whole epigram, which represents with much humour my honest friend's condition:

Quicquid agit Rufus, nihil est, nisi Nævia Rufo,
Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur:

thought he did not taste it with delight. As he grew warm, he was suspicious of every thing that was said, and as he advanced towards being fuddled, his humour grew worse. At the same time his bitterness seemed to be rather an inward dissatisfaction in his own mind, than any dislike he had taken to the company. Upon hearing his name, I knew him to be a gentleman of a considerable fortune in this county, but greatly in debt. What gives the unhappy man this peevishness of spirit is, that his estate is dipped, and is eating out with usury; and yet he has not the heart to sell any part of it. His proud stomach, at the cost of restless nights, constant inquietudes, danger of affronts, and a thousand nameless inconveniencies, preserves this canker in his fortune, rather than it shall be said he is a man of fewer hundreds a year than he has been commonly reputed. Thus he endures the torment of poverty, to avoid the name of being less rich. If you go to his house, you see great plenty; but served in a manner that shows it is all unnatural, and that the master's mind is not at home. There is a certain waste and carelessness in the air of every thing, and the whole appears but a covered indigence, a magnificent poverty. That neatness and cheerfulness which attend the table of him who lives within compass, is wanting, and exchanged for a libertine way of service in all about him.

This gentleman's conduct, though a very common way of management, is as ridiculous as that officer's would be, who had but few men under his command, and should take the charge of an extent of country rather than of a small pass. To pay for, personate, and keep in a man's hands, a greater estate than he really has, is of all others the most unpardonable vanity, and must in the end reduce the man who is guilty of it to dishonour. Yet if we look round us in any county of Great Britain, we shall see many in this fatal error; if that may be called by so soft a name, which proceeds from a false shame of appearing what they really are, when the contrary behaviour would in a short time advance them to the condition which they pretend to.

Laertes has fifteen hundred pounds a year; which is mortgaged for six thousand pounds; but it is im

possible to convince him, that if he sold as much as putting on unnecessary armour against improbable would pay off that debt, he would save four shillings blows of fortune, is a mechanic being which has not in the pound, which he gives for the vanity of being good sense for its direction, but is carried on by a the reputed master of it. Yet if Laertes did this, sort of acquired instinct towards things below our he would perhaps be easier in his own fortune; but then consideration, and unworthy our esteem. It is posIrus, a fellow of yesterday, who has but twelve hun-sible that the tranquillity I now enjoy at Sir Roger's dred a year, would be his equal. Rather than this may have created in me this way of thinking, which should be, Laertes goes on to bring well-born beg- is so abstracted from the common relish of the world; gars into the world, and every twelvemonth charges but as I am now in a pleasing arbour surrounded his estate with at least one year's rent more by the with a beautiful landscape, I find no inclination so birth of a child. strong as to continue in these mansions so remote from the ostentatious scenes of life; and am at this present writing philosopher enough to conclude with Mr. Cowley,

Laertes and Irus are neighbours, whose way of living are an abomination to each other. Irus is moved by the fear of poverty, and Laertes by the shame of it. Though the motive of action is of so near affinity in both, and may be resolved into this, "that to each of them poverty is the greatest of all evils," yet are their manners widely different. Shame of poverty makes Laertes launch into unnecessary equipage, vain expense, and lavish entertainments. Fear of poverty makes Irus allow himself only plain necessaries, appear without a servant, sell his own corn, attend his labourers, and be himself a labourer. Shame of poverty makes Laertes go every day a step nearer to it; and fear of poverty stirs up Irus to make every day some farther progress from it.

These different motives produce the excesses which men are guilty of in the negligence of and provision for themselves. Usury, stock-jobbing, extortion, and oppression, have their seed in the dread of want; and vanity, riot, and prodigality, from the shame of it; but both these excesses are infinitely below the pursuit of a reasonable creature. After we have taken care to command so much as is necessary for maintaining ourselves in the order of men suitable to our character, the care of superfluities is a vice no less extravagant than the neglect of necessaries

would have been before.

If e'er ambition did my fancy cheat
With any wish so mean as to be great;
Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove
The humble blessings of that life I love.


No. 115.] THURSDAY, JULY 12, 1711.
-Ut sit mens sana in corpore sano.

Juv. Sat. x 356

Pray for a sound mind in a sound body. BODILY labour is of two kinds,-either that which a man submits to for his livelihood, or that which he undergoes for his pleasure. The latter of them generally changes the name of labour for that of exercise, but differs only from ordinary labour as it rises from another motive.

A country life abounds in both these kinds of labour-and for that reason gives a man a greater stock of health, and consequently a more perfect enjoyment of himself, than any other way of life. I consider the body as a system of tubes and glands, or, to use a more rustic phrase, a bundle of pipes and strainers, fitted to one another after so wonderful a manner as to make a proper engine for the soul to work with. This description does not only

and arteries, but every muscle and every ligature, which is a composition of fibres, that are so many imperceptible tubes or pipes interwoven on all sides with invisible glands or strainers.

Certain it is, that they are both out of nature, when she is followed by reason and good sense. It is from this reflection that I always read Mr. Cow-comprehend the bowels, bones, tendons, veins, nerves, ley with the greatest pleasure. His magnanimity is as much above that of other considerable men, as his understanding; and it is a true distinguishing spirit in the elegant author who published his works, to dwell so much upon the temper of his mind and the moderation of his desires. By this means he has rendered his friend as amiable as famous. That state of life which bears the face of poverty with Mr. Cowley's great vulgar,† is admirably described: and it is no small satisfaction to those of the same turn of desire, that he produces the authority of the wisest men of the best age of the world, to strengthen his opinion of the ordinary pursuits of mankind.

It would methinks be no ill maxim of life, if, according to that ancestor of Sir Roger whom I lately mentioned, every man would point to himself what sum he would resolve not to exceed. He might by this means cheat himself into a tranquillity on this side of that expectation, or convert what he should get above it to nobler uses than his own pleasures or necessities. This temper of mind would exempt a man from an ignorant envy of restless men above him, and a more inexcusable contempt of happy men below him. This would be sailing by some compass, living with some design; but to be eternally bewildered in prospects of future gain, and

Viz, the land tax.

↑ Hence, ye profane, I hate ye all.
Both the great vulgar and the small

COWLEY'S Paraphr. of HORACE, 3 Od. i.

This general idea of a human body, without considering it in the niceties of anatomy, lets us see how absolutely necessary labour is for the right preservation of it. There must be frequent motions and agitations, to mix, digest, and separate the juices contained in it, as well as to clear and cleanse that infinitude of pipes and strainers of which it is composed, and to give their solid parts a more firm and lasting tone. Labour or exercise ferments the humours, casts them into their proper channels, throws off redundancies, and helps nature in those secret distributions, without which the body cannot subsist in its vigour, nor the soul act with cheerfulness.

I might here mention the effects which this has upon all the faculties of the mind, by keeping the understanding clear, the imagination untroubled, and refining those spirits which are necessary for the proper exertion of our intellectual faculties, during the present laws of union between soul and body. It is to a neglect in this particular that we must ascribe the spleen, which is so frequent in men of studious and sedentary tempers, as well as the vapours, to which those of the other sex are so often subject.

Had not exercise been absolutely necessary for our well-being, nature would not have made the body so proper for it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and such a pliancy to every part as ne

cessarily produce those compressions, extensions, and it pleases me the more because it does every contortions, dilations, and all other kinds of motions thing that I require of it in the most profound silence. that are necessary for the preservation of such a My landlady and her daughters are so well acsystem of tubes and glands as has been before men- quainted with my hours of exercise, that they never tioned. And that we might not want inducements come into my room to disturb me whilst I am ringing. to engage us in such an exercise of the body as is When I was some years younger than I am at preproper for its welfare, it is so ordered that nothing sent, I used to employ myself in a more laborious valuable can be procured without it. Not to men- diversion, which I learned from a Latin treatise of tion riches and honour, even food and raiment are exercises that is written with great erudition: it is not to be come at without the toil of the hands and there called the fighting with a man's own shadow, sweat of the brows. Providence furnishes materials, and consists in the brandishing of two short sticks but expects that we should work them up ourselves. grasped in each hand, and loaden with plugs of lead The earth must be laboured before it gives its in- at either end. This opens the chest, exercises the crease; and when it is forced into its several pro-limbs, and gives a man all the pleasure of boxing, ducts, how many hands must they pass through without the blows. I could wish that several learned before they are fit for use! Manufactures, trade, men would lay out that time which they employ in and agriculture, naturally employ more than nineteen parts of the species in twenty; and as for those who are not obliged to labour, by the condition in which they are born, they are more miserable than the rest of mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary labour which goes by the name

of exercise.

controversies and disputes about nothing, in this method of fighting with their own shadows. It might conduce very much to evaporate the spleen, which makes them uneasy to the public as well as to themselves.

To conclude, as I am a compound of soul and body, I consider myself as obliged to a double scheme of duties; and think I have not fulfilled the business of the day when I do not thus employ the one in labour and exercise, as well as the other in study and contemplation.

No. 116.] FRIDAY, JULY 13, 1711.
Vocat ingenti clamore Citharon,
Taygetique canes.-VIRG. Georg. iii. 43.

The echoing hills and chiding hounds invite.
THOSE who have searched into human nature ob

My friend Sir Roger has been an indefatigable man in business of this kind, and has hung several parts of his house with the trophies of his former labours. The walls of his great hall are covered with the horns of several kinds of deer that he has killed in the chase, which he thinks the most valuable furniture of his house, as they afford him frequent topics of discourse, and shew that he has not been idle. At the lower end of the hall is a large otter's skin stuffed with bay, which his mother ordered to be hung up in that manner, and the knight looks upon it with great satisfaction, because it seems he was but nine years old when his dog killed serve that nothing so much shows the nobleness of him. A little room adjoining to the hall is a kind the soul, as that its felicity consists in action. Every of arsenal filled with guns of several sizes and in- man has such an active principle in him, that he ventions, with which the knight has made great whatever place or state of life he is posted. I have will find out something to employ himself upon, in havoc in the woods, and destroyed many thousands heard of a gentleman who was under close confineof pheasants, partridges, and woodcocks. His stabledoors are patched with noses that belonged to foxes ment in the Bastile seven years, during which time of the knight's own hunting down. Sir Roger about his chamber, gathering them up again, and he amused himself in scattering a few small pins shewed me one of them that for distinction sake has a brass nail struck through it, which cost him about placing them in different figures on the arm of a fifteen hours riding, carried him through half a dozen great chair. He often told his friends afterward, counties, killed him a brace of geldings, and lost that unless he had found out this piece of exercise, he above half his dogs. This the knight looks upon as verily believed he should have lost his senses. one of the greatest exploits of his life. The per- readers that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope After what has been said, I need not inform my verse widow, whom I have given some account of, was the death of several foxes; for Sir Roger has they are at present pretty well acquainted, has in his told me, that in the course of his amours he patched youth gone through the whole course of those rural the western door of his stable. Whenever the widow diversions which the country abounds in; and which was cruel, the foxes were sure to pay for it. In pro-industry a man may observe here in a far greater seem to be extremely well suited to that laborious portion as his passion for the widow abated and old age came on, he left off fox-hunting; but a hare is degree than in towns and cities. I have before not yet safe that sits within ten miles of his house.

There is no kind of exercise which I would so recommend to my readers of both sexes as this of riding, as there is none which so much conduces to health, and is every way accommodated to the body, according to the idea which I have given of it. Doctor Sydenham is very lavish in its praises; and if the English reader would see the mechanical effects of it described at length, he may find them in a book published not many years since, under the title of Medicina Gymnastica. For my own part, when I am in town, for want of these opportunities, I exercise myself an hour every morning upon a dumb bell that is placed in a corner of my room,

By Francis Fuller, M. A

hinted at some of my friend's exploits: he has in his youthful days taken forty coveys of partridges in a season; and tired many a salmon with a line consisting of but a single hair. The constant thanks tended him on account of his remarkable enmity toand good wishes of the neighbourhood always atwards foxes; having destroyed more of those vermin in one year, than it was thought the whole country could have produced. Indeed the knight does not scruple to own among his most intimate friends, has secretly sent for great numbers of them out of that in order to establish his reputation this way, he other counties, which he used to turn loose about the

This is Hieronymus Mercurialis's celebrated book, Artis Gymnasticæ apud Antiquos, &c. Libri sex. Venet. 1569, 4tv. See lib iv cap. 5, and lib vi cap 2.

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