pation of divineness, because it doth raise the mind, and exalt the spirit with high raptures, by proportioning the shews of things to the desires of the mind, and not submitting the mind to things, as reason and history do. And by these allurements and congruities, whereby it cherisheth the soul of man, joined also with consort of music, whereby it may more sweetly insinuate itself, it hath won such access, that it hath been in estimation even in rude times, and barbarous nations, when other learning stood excluded."

But there is nothing which favours and falls in with this natural greatness and dignity of human nature so much as religion, which does not only promise the entire refinement of the mind, but the glorifying of the body, and the immortality of both.

N° 109. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1709.

Perditur hæc inter miseris lux

in this giddy, busy maze,

I lose the sun-shine of my days.

HOR. 2 Sat, vi. 59.

FRANCIS.

Sheer-lane, December 19.

THERE has not some years been such a tumult in our neighbourhood as this evening about six. At the lower end of the lane the word was given, that there was a great funeral coming by. The next moment came forward, in a very hasty, instead of a solemn manner, a long train of lights, when at last a foot

her female friends, who were her dearest and most intimiste acquaintance.

"Amongst her highest imperfections, I still dwelt upon her baseness of mind and ingratitude, that made her triumph in the pain and anguish of the man who loved her, and of one who in those days, without vanity be it spoken, was thought to descive her love,

To shorten my story, she was married to another, which would have distracted me, had he proved a good husband, but, to my great pleasure, he used her at first with coldness, and afterwards with contempt. I hear he still treats her very ill; and am informed, that she often says to her woman, this is a just revenge for my falschood to my first love: what a wretch am I, that might have been married to the famous Mr. Bickerstaff!"

My patient looked upon me with a kind of melancholy pleasure, and told me, "He did not think it was possible for a man to live to the age I am now of, who in his thirtieth year had been tortured with that passion in its violence. For my part," said he, "I can neither eat, drink, nor sleep in it; nor keep company with any body, but two or three friends who me in the same condition,"

"There," answered I," you are to blame; for as you ought to avoid nothing more than keeping company with yourself, so you ought to be parti cularly cautions of keeping company with men like yourself, As long as you do this, you do but indulge your distemper.

"I must not disiniss you without further instruc Gious. If possible, transfer your passion from the woman you are now in love with to another; or, if you cannot do that, change the passion itself into some other passion, that is, to speak more plainly, And out some other agiccable woman; or if you

cannot do this, grow covetous, ambitious, litigious; turn your love of woman into that of profit, preferment, reputation; and for a time give up yourself entirely to the pursuit.

"This is a method we sometimes take in physic, when we turn a desperate disease into one we can more easily cure."

He made little answer to all this, but crying out, Ah, Sir!" for his passion reduced his discourse to interjections.

As a prepa

"There is one thing," added I," which is present death to a man in your condition, and, therefore, to be avoided with the greatest care and cau tion: that is, in a word, to think of your mistress and rival together, whether walking, discoursing, dallying”—“ The devil!" he cried out, "who can bear it?" To compose him, for I pitied him very much; "The time will come," said I, "when you shall not only bear it, but laugh at it. ration to it, ride every morning, an hour at least, with the wind full in your face. Upon your return, recollect the several precepts which I have now given you, and drink upon them a bottle of Spaw-water. Repeat this every day for a month successively, and let me see you at the end of it." He was taking his leave, with many thanks, and some appearance of consolation in his countenance, when I called him back, to acquaint him, "that I had private information of a design of the coquettes to buy up all the true Spaw-water in town:" upon which he took his leave in haste, with a resolution to get all things ready for entering upon his regimen the next morning.

N° 108. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1709,

Pronaque cum spectent animalia cætera terram,

Os bomini sublime dedit: Calûmque tueri
Jussie

OVID. MET. I. 85.

Thus, while the mute creation downward bend
Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend,
Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes
Beholds his own hereditary skies.

Sheer-lane, December 16.

DRYDEN.

It is not to be imagined how great an effect welldisposed lights, with proper forms and orders in assemblies, have upon some tempers. I am sure I feel it in so extraordinary a manner, that I cannot in a day or two get out of my imagination any very beautiful or disagreeable impression which I receive on such occasions. For this reason I frequently look in at the play-house, in order to enlarge my thoughts, and warm my mind with some new ideas, that may be serviceable to me in my Lucubrations.

In this disposition I entered the theatre the other day, and placed myself in a corner of it very convenient for seeing, without being myself observed. I found the audience hushed in a very deep attention; and did not question but some noble tragedy was just then in its crisis, or that an incident was to be unravelled, which would determine the fate of a hero. While I was in this suspense, expecting every moment to see my old friend Mr. Betterton appear in all the majesty of distress, to my unspeakable amazement there came up a monster with a face between his feet; and as I was looking

on, he raised himself on one leg in such a perpendicular posture, that the other grew in a direct line above his head. It afterwards twisted itself into the motions and wreathings of several different aniinals, and after great variety of shapes and transformations, went off the stage in the figure of a human creature. The admiration, the applause, the satisfaction of the audience, during this strange entertainment, is not to be expressed. I was very much out of countenance for my dear countrymen, and looked about with some apprehension, for fear any foreigner should be present. Is it possible, thought I, that human nature can rejoice in its disgrace, and take pleasure in seeing its own figure turned to ridicule, and distorted into forms that raise horror and aversion? There is something disingenuous and immoral in the being able to bear such a sight. Men of elegant and noble minds are shocked at seeing the characters of persons who deserve esteem for their virtue, knowledge, or services to their country, placed in wrong lights, and by misrepresentation made the subject of buffoonery. Such a nice abhorrence is not indeed to be found among the vulgar; but methinks it is wonderful, that those who have nothing but the outward figure to distinguish them as men, should delight in seeing humanity abused, vilified, and disgraced.

I must confess, there is nothing that more pleases me, in all that I read in books, or see among mankind, than such passages as represent human nature in its proper dignity. As man is a creature made up of different extremes, he has something in him very great and very mean. A skilful artist may draw an excellent picture of him in either of these views. The finest authors of antiquity have taken him on the more advantageous side. They cultivate the