her
Pre-engaged.
Widows are indeed the great Game of your Fortune-Hunters. There is
scarce a young Fellow in the Town of six Foot high, that has not passed
in Review before one or other of these wealthy Relicts. Hudibrass's
Cupid,
—took his Stand
Upon a Widow's Jointure Land
2,
is daily employed in throwing Darts, and kindling Flames. But as for
Widows, they are such a Subtle Generation of People, that they may be
left to their own Conduct; or if they make a false Step in it, they are
answerable for it to no Body but themselves. The young innocent
Creatures who have no Knowledge and Experience of the World, are those
whose Safety I would principally consult in this Speculation. The
stealing of such an one should, in my Opinion, be as punishable as a
Rape. Where there is no Judgment there is no Choice; and why the
inveigling a Woman before she is come to Years of Discretion, should not
be as Criminal as the seducing of her before she is ten Years old, I am
at a Loss to comprehend.
L.
them
Hudibras, Part I., Canto 3, II. 310-11.
Contents
Contents, p.4
|
Wednesday, February 27, 1712 |
Steele |
Quod huic Officium, quæ laus, quod Decus erit tanti, quod adipisci cum
colore Corporis velit, qui dolorem summum malum sibi persuaserit? Quam
porro quis ignominiam, quam turpitudinem non pertulerit, ut effugiat
dolorem, si id summum malum esse decrevit?
Tull. de Dolore tolerando.
It is a very melancholy Reflection, that Men are usually so weak, that
it is absolutely necessary for them to know Sorrow and Pain to be in
their right Senses. Prosperous People (for Happy there are none) are
hurried away with a fond Sense of their present Condition, and
thoughtless of the Mutability of Fortune: Fortune is a Term which we
must use in such Discourses as these, for what is wrought by the unseen
Hand of the Disposer of all Things. But methinks the Disposition of a
Mind which is truly great, is that which makes Misfortunes and Sorrows
little when they befall our selves, great and lamentable when they
befall other Men. The most unpardonable Malefactor in the World going to
his Death and bearing it with Composure, would win the Pity of those who
should behold him; and this not because his Calamity is deplorable, but
because he seems himself not to deplore it: We suffer for him who is
less sensible of his own Misery, and are inclined to despise him who
sinks under the Weight of his Distresses. On the other hand, without any
Touch of Envy, a temperate and well-govern'd Mind looks down on such as
are exalted with Success, with a certain Shame for the Imbecility of
human Nature, that can so far forget how liable it is to Calamity, as to
grow giddy with only the Suspence of Sorrow, which is the Portion of all
Men. He therefore who turns his Face from the unhappy Man, who will not
look again when his Eye is cast upon modest Sorrow, who shuns Affliction
like a Contagion, does but pamper himself up for a Sacrifice, and
contract in himself a greater Aptitude to Misery by attempting to escape
it. A Gentleman where I happened to be last Night, fell into a Discourse
which I thought shewed a good Discerning in him: He took Notice that
whenever Men have looked into their Heart for the Idea of true
Excellency in human Nature, they have found it to consist in Suffering
after a right Manner and with a good Grace. Heroes are always drawn
bearing Sorrows, struggling with Adversities, undergoing all kinds of
Hardships, and having in the Service of Mankind a kind of Appetite to
Difficulties and Dangers. The Gentleman went on to observe, that it is
from this secret Sense of the high Merit which there is in Patience
under Calamities, that the Writers of Romances, when they attempt to
furnish out Characters of the highest Excellence, ransack Nature for
things terrible; they raise a new Creation of Monsters, Dragons, and
Giants: Where the Danger ends, the Hero ceases; when he won an Empire,
or gained his Mistress, the rest of his Story is not worth relating. My
Friend carried his Discourse so far as to say, that it was for higher
Beings than Men to join Happiness and Greatness in the same Idea; but
that in our Condition we have no Conception of superlative Excellence,
or Heroism, but as it is surrounded with a Shade of Distress.
It is certainly the proper Education we should give our selves, to be
prepared for the ill Events and Accidents we are to meet with in a Life
sentenced to be a Scene of Sorrow: But instead of this Expectation, we
soften our selves with Prospects of constant Delight, and destroy in our
Minds the Seeds of Fortitude and Virtue, which should support us in
Hours of Anguish. The constant Pursuit of Pleasure has in it something
insolent and improper for our Being. There is a pretty sober Liveliness
in the Ode of
Horace
to
Delius
, where he tells him, loud Mirth, or
immoderate Sorrow, Inequality of Behaviour either in Prosperity or
Adversity, are alike ungraceful in Man that is born to die. Moderation
in both Circumstances is peculiar to generous Minds: Men of that Sort
ever taste the Gratifications of Health, and all other Advantages of
Life, as if they were liable to part with them, and when bereft of them,
resign them with a Greatness of Mind which shews they know their Value
and Duration. The Contempt of Pleasure is a certain Preparatory for the
Contempt of Pain: Without this, the Mind is as it were taken suddenly by
any unforeseen Event; but he that has always, during Health and
Prosperity, been abstinent in his Satisfactions, enjoys, in the worst of
Difficulties, the Reflection, that his Anguish is not aggravated with
the Comparison of past Pleasures which upbraid his present Condition.
Tully
tells us a Story after
Pompey
, which gives us a good Taste of the
pleasant Manner the Men of Wit and Philosophy had in old Times of
alleviating the Distresses of Life by the Force of Reason and
Philosophy.
Pompey
, when he came to
Rhodes
, had a Curiosity to visit the
famous Philosopher
Possidonius
; but finding him in his sick Bed, he
bewailed the Misfortune that he should not hear a Discourse from him:
But you may, answered Possidonius; and immediately entered into the
Point of Stoical Philosophy, which says Pain is not an Evil. During the
Discourse, upon every Puncture he felt from his Distemper, he smiled and
cried out, Pain, Pain, be as impertinent and troublesome as you please,
I shall never own that thou art an Evil.
Mr. Spectator,
Having seen in several of your Papers, a Concern for the Honour of the
Clergy, and their doing every thing as becomes their Character, and
particularly performing the publick Service with a due Zeal and
Devotion; I am the more encouraged to lay before them, by your Means,
several Expressions used by some of them in their Prayers before
Sermon, which I am not well satisfied in: As their giving some Titles
and Epithets to great Men, which are indeed due to them in their
several Ranks and Stations, but not properly used, I think, in our
Prayers. Is it not Contradiction to say, Illustrious, Right, Reverend,
and Right Honourable poor Sinners? These Distinctions are suited only
to our State here, and have no place in Heaven:
We see they are
omitted in the Liturgy; which I think the Clergy should take for their
Pattern in their own Forms of
Devotion1. There is another
Expression which I would not mention, but that I have heard it several
times before a learned Congregation, to bring in the last Petition of
the Prayer in these Words,
O let not the Lord be angry and I will speak
but this once; as if there was no Difference between
Abraham's
interceding for
Sodom, for which he had no Warrant as we can find, and
our asking those Things which we are required to pray for; they would
therefore have much more Reason to fear his Anger if they did not make
such Petitions to him. There is another pretty Fancy: When a young Man
has a Mind to let us know who gave him his Scarf, he speaks a
Parenthesis to the Almighty, Bless,
as I am in Duty bound to pray, the
right honourable the Countess; is not that as much as to say, Bless
her, for thou knowest I am her Chaplain?
Your humble Servant,
J. O.
T.
Devotion. Another Expression which I take to be improper,
is this, the whole Race of Mankind, when they pray for all Men; for Race
signifies Lineage or Descent; and if the Race of Mankind may be used for
the present generation, (though I think not very fitly) the whole Race
takes in all from the Beginning to the End of the World. I don't
remember to have met with that Expression in their sense anywhere but in
the old Version of Psal. 14, which those Men, I suppose, have but little
Esteem for. And some, when they have prayed for all Schools and Nurserys
of good Learning and True Religion, especially the two Universities, add
these Words, Grant that from them and all other Places dedicated to thy
Worship and Service, may come forth such Persons. But what do they mean
by all other Places? It seems to me that this is either a Tautology, as
being the same with all Schools and Nurserys before expressed, or else
it runs too far; for there are general Places dedicated to the Divine
Service which cannot properly be intended here.
Contents
Contents, p.4
|
Thursday, February 28, 1712 |
Budgell |
Exigite ut mores teneros ceu pollice ducat,
Ut si quis cerâ vultum facit.
Juv.
I shall give the following Letter no other Recommendation, than by
telling my Readers that it comes from the same Hand with that of last
Thursday
.
Sir,
'I send you, according to my Promise, some farther Thoughts on the
Education of Youth, in which I intend to discuss that famous Question,
whether the Education at a Publick School, or under a private Tutor,
is to be preferred?
'As some of the greatest Men in most Ages have been of very different
Opinions in this Matter, i shall give a short Account of what i think
may be best urged on both sides, and afterwards leave every Person to
determine for himself.
'It is certain from
Suetonius, that the Romans thought the Education
of their Children a business properly belonging to the Parents
themselves; and
Plutarch, in the
Life of Marcus Cato, tells us, that
as soon as his Son was capable of Learning,
Cato would suffer no Body
to Teach him but himself, tho' he had a Servant named
Chilo, who was
an excellent Grammarian, and who taught a great many other Youths.
'On the contrary, the
Greeks seemed more inclined to Publick Schools
and Seminaries.
' A private Education promises in the first place Virtue and
Good-Breeding; a publick School Manly Assurance, and an early
Knowledge in the Ways of the World.
'
Mr.
Locke in his celebrated Treatise of
Education1, confesses
that there are Inconveniencies to be feared on both sides;
If, says
he,
I keep my Son at Home, he is in danger of becoming my young
Master; If I send him Abroad, it is scarce possible to keep him from
the reigning Contagion of Rudeness and Vice. He will perhaps be more
Innocent at Home, but more ignorant of the World, and more sheepish
when he comes Abroad. However, as this learned Author asserts, That
Virtue is much more difficult to be attained than Knowledge of the
World; and that Vice is a more stubborn, as well as a more dangerous
Fault than Sheepishness, he is altogether for a private Education; and
the more so, because he does not see why a Youth, with right
Management, might not attain the same Assurance in his Father's House,
as at a publick School. To this end he advises Parents to accustom
their Sons to whatever strange Faces come to the House; to take them
with them when they Visit their Neighbours, and to engage them in
Conversation with Men of Parts and Breeding.
'It may be objected to this Method, that Conversation is not the only
thing necessary, but that unless it be a Conversation with such as are
in some measure their Equals in Parts and Years, there can be no room
for Emulation, Contention, and several of the most lively Passions of
the Mind; which, without being sometimes moved by these means, may
possibly contract a Dulness and Insensibility.
'One of the greatest Writers our Nation ever produced observes, That a
Boy who forms Parties, and makes himself Popular in a School or a
College, would act the same Part with equal ease in a Senate or a
Privy Council; and Mr.
Osborn speaking like a Man versed in the Ways
of the World, affirms, that the well laying and carrying on of a design to rob an
Orchard, trains up a Youth insensibly to Caution, Secrecy and
Circumspection, and fits him for Matters of greater Importance.
'In short, a private Education seems the most natural Method for the
forming of a virtuous Man; a Publick Education for making a Man of
Business. The first would furnish out a good Subject for
Plato's
Republick, the latter a Member for a Community over-run with Artifice
and Corruption.
'It must however be confessed, that a Person at the head of a publick
School has sometimes so many Boys under his Direction, that it is
impossible he should extend a due proportion of his Care to each of
them. This is, however, in reality, the Fault of the Age, in which we
often see twenty Parents, who tho' each expects his Son should be made
a Scholar, are not contented altogether to make it worth while for any
Man of a liberal Education to take upon him the Care of their
Instruction.
'In our great Schools indeed this Fault has been of late Years
rectified, so that we have at present not only Ingenious Men for the
chief Masters, but such as have proper Ushers and Assistants under
them; I must nevertheless own, that for want of the same Encouragement
in the Country, we have many a promising Genius spoiled and abused in
those Seminaries.
'I am the more inclined to this Opinion, having my self experienced the
Usage of two Rural Masters, each of them very unfit for the Trust they
took upon them to discharge. The first imposed much more upon me than
my Parts, tho' none of the weakest, could endure; and used me
barbarously for not performing Impossibilities. The latter was of
quite another Temper; and a Boy, who would run upon his Errands, wash
his Coffee-pot, or ring the Bell, might have as little Conversation
with any of the Classicks as he thought fit. I have known a Lad at
this Place excused his Exercise for assisting the Cook-maid; and
remember a Neighbouring Gentleman's Son was among us five Years, most
of which time he employed in airing and watering our Master's grey
Pad. I scorned to Compound for my Faults, by doing any of these
Elegant Offices, and was accordingly the best Scholar, and the worst
used of any Boy in the School.
'I shall conclude this Discourse with an Advantage mentioned by
Quintilian, as accompanying a Publick way of Education, which I have
not yet taken notice of; namely, That we very often contract such
Friendships at School, as are a Service to us all the following Part
of our Lives.
'I shall give you, under this Head, a Story very well known to several
Persons, and which you may depend upon as a real Truth.
'Every one, who is acquainted with Westminster-School, knows that
there is a Curtain which used to be drawn a-cross the Room, to
separate the upper School from the lower. A Youth happened, by some
Mischance, to tear the above-mentioned Curtain:
The Severity of the
Master
2 was too well known for the Criminal to expect any Pardon for
such a Fault; so that the Boy, who was of a meek Temper, was terrified
to Death at the Thoughts of his Appearance, when his Friend, who sat
next to him, bad him be of good Cheer, for that he would take the
Fault on himself. He kept his word accordingly. As soon as they were
grown up to be Men the Civil War broke out, in which our two Friends
took the opposite Sides, one of them followed the Parliament, the
other the Royal Party.
'As their Tempers were different, the Youth, who had torn the Curtain,
endeavoured to raise himself on the Civil List, and the other, who had
born the Blame of it, on the Military: The first succeeded so well,
that he was in a short time made a Judge under the Protector. The
other was engaged in the unhappy Enterprize of Penruddock and Groves
in the West. I suppose, Sir, I need not acquaint you with the Event of
that Undertaking. Every one knows that the Royal Party was routed, and
all the Heads of them, among whom was the Curtain Champion, imprisoned
at Exeter. It happened to be his Friend's Lot at that time to go to
the Western Circuit: The Tryal of the Rebels, as they were then
called, was very short, and nothing now remained but to pass Sentence
on them; when the Judge hearing the Name of his old Friend, and
observing his Face more attentively, which he had not seen for many
Years, asked him, if he was not formerly a Westminster-Scholar; by the
Answer, he was soon convinced that it was his former generous Friend;
and, without saying any thing more at that time, made the best of his
Way to London, where employing all his Power and Interest with the
Protector, he saved his Friend from the Fate of his unhappy
Associates.
'
The Gentleman, whose Life was thus preserv'd by the Gratitude of his
School-Fellow, was afterwards the Father of a Son, whom he lived to
see promoted in the Church, and who still deservedly fills one of the
highest Stations in it
3.
X.
Some Thoughts concerning Education
, § 70. The references to
Suetonius and Plutarch's
Life of Cato
are from the preceding section.
Richard Busby; appointed in 1640.
The allusion is to Colonel Wake, father of Dr. William
Wake, who was Bishop of Lincoln when this paper was written, and because
in 1716 Archbishop of Canterbury. The trials of Penruddock and his
friends were in 1685.
Contents
Contents, p.4
|
Friday, February 29, 1712 |
Steele |
Tandem desine Matrem
Tempestiva sequi viro.
Hor. Od. 23.
Feb. 7, 1711-12.
Mr. Spectator,
I am a young Man about eighteen Years of Age, and have been in Love
with a young Woman of the same Age about this half Year. I go to see
her six Days in the Week, but never could have the Happiness of being
with her alone. If any of her Friends are at home, she will see me in
their Company; but if they be not in the Way, she flies to her
Chamber. I can discover no Signs of her Aversion; but either a Fear of
falling into the Toils of Matrimony, or a childish Timidity, deprives
us of an Interview apart, and drives us upon the Difficulty of
languishing out our Lives in fruitless Expectation. Now, Mr.
Spectator, if you think us ripe for Œconomy, perswade the dear
Creature, that to pine away into Barrenness and Deformity under a
Mother's Shade, is not so honourable, nor does she appear so amiable,
as she would in full Bloom. [There is a great deal left out before he
concludes] Mr. Spectator,
Your humble Servant,
Bob Harmless.
If this Gentleman be really no more than Eighteen, I must do him the
Justice to say he is the most knowing Infant I have yet met with. He
does not, I fear, yet understand, that all he thinks of is another
Woman; therefore, till he has given a further Account of himself, the
young Lady is hereby directed to keep close to her Mother. The
Spectator
.
I cannot comply with the Request in Mr. Trott's Letter; but let it go
just as it came to my Hands, for being so familiar with the old
Gentleman, as rough as he is to him. Since Mr. Trott has an Ambition to
make him his Father-in-Law, he ought to treat him with more Respect;
besides, his Style to me might have been more distant than he has
thought fit to afford me: Moreover, his Mistress shall continue in her
Confinement, till he has found out which Word in his Letter is not
wrightly spelt.
Mr. Spectator,
I shall ever own my self your obliged humble Servant for the Advice
you gave me concerning my Dancing; which unluckily came too late: For,
as I said, I would not leave off Capering till I had your Opinion of
the Matter; was at our famous Assembly the Day before I received your
Papers, and there was observed by an old Gentleman, who was informed I
had a Respect for his Daughter; told me I was an insignificant little
Fellow, and said that for the future he would take Care of his Child;
so that he did not doubt but to crosse my amorous Inclinations. The
Lady is confined to her Chamber, and for my Part, am ready to hang my
self with the Thoughts that I have danced my self out of Favour with
her Father. I hope you will pardon the Trouble I give; but shall take
it for a mighty Favour, if you will give me a little more of your
Advice to put me in a write Way to cheat the old Dragon and obtain my
Mistress. I am once more,
Sir,
Your obliged humble Servant, John Trott.
York, Feb. 23, 1711-12.
Let me desire you to make what Alterations you please, and insert this
as soon as possible. Pardon Mistake by Haste.
I never do pardon Mistakes by Haste. The
Spectator
.
Feb. 27, 1711-12.
Sir,
Pray be so kind as to let me know what you esteem to be the chief
Qualification of a good Poet, especially of one who writes Plays; and
you will very much oblige,
Sir, Your very humble Servant, N. B.
To be a very well-bred Man. The
Spectator
.
Mr. Spectator,
You are to know that I am naturally Brave, and love Fighting as well
as any Man in England. This gallant Temper of mine makes me extremely
delighted with Battles on the Stage. I give you this Trouble to
complain to you, that Nicolini refused to gratifie me in that Part of
the Opera for which I have most Taste. I observe it's become a Custom,
that whenever any Gentlemen are particularly pleased with a Song, at
their crying out Encore or Altro Volto, the Performer is so obliging
as to sing it over again. I was at the Opera the last time Hydaspes
was performed. At that Part of it where the Heroe engages with the
Lion, the graceful Manner with which he put that terrible Monster to
Death gave me so great a Pleasure, and at the same time so just a
Sense of that Gentleman's Intrepidity and Conduct, that I could not
forbear desiring a Repetition of it, by crying out Altro Volto in a
very audible Voice; and my Friends flatter me, that I pronounced those
Words with a tolerable good Accent, considering that was but the third
Opera I had ever seen in my Life. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there
was so little Regard had to me, that the Lion was carried off, and
went to Bed, without being killed any more that Night. Now, Sir, pray
consider that I did not understand a Word of what Mr. Nicolini said to
this cruel Creature; besides, I have no Ear for Musick; so that during
the long Dispute between 'em, the whole Entertainment I had was from
my Eye; Why then have not I as much Right to have a graceful Action
repeated as another has a pleasing Sound, since he only hears as I
only see, and we neither of us know that there is any reasonable thing
a doing? Pray, Sir, settle the Business of this Claim in the Audience,
and let us know when we may cry Altro Volto, Anglicè, again, again,
for the Future. I am an Englishman, and expect some Reason or other to
be given me, and perhaps an ordinary one may serve; but I expect your
Answer.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
Toby Rentfree.
Nov. 29.
Mr. Spectator,
You must give me Leave, amongst the rest of your Female
Correspondents, to address you about an Affair which has already given
you many a Speculation; and which, I know, I need not tell you have
had a very happy Influence over the adult Part of our Sex: But as many
of us are either too old to learn, or too obstinate in the Pursuit of
the Vanities which have been bred up with us from our Infancy, and all
of us quitting the Stage whilst you are prompting us to act our Part
well; you ought, methinks, rather to turn your Instructions for the
Benefit of that Part of our Sex, who are yet in their native
Innocence, and ignorant of the Vices and that Variety of Unhappinesses
that reign amongst us.
I must tell you, Mr. Spectator, that it is as much a Part of your
Office to oversee the Education of the female Part of the Nation, as
well as of the Male; and to convince the World you are not partial,
pray proceed to detect the Male Administration of Governesses as
successfully as you have exposed that of Pedagogues; and rescue our
Sex from the Prejudice and Tyranny of Education as well as that of
your own, who without your seasonable Interposition are like to
improve upon the Vices that are now in vogue.
I who know the Dignity of your Post, as Spectator, and the Authority a
skilful Eye ought to bear in the Female World, could not forbear
consulting you, and beg your Advice in so critical a Point, as is that
of the Education of young Gentlewomen. Having already provided myself
with a very convenient House in a good Air, I'm not without Hope but
that you will promote this generous Design. I must farther tell you,
Sir, that all who shall be committed to my Conduct, beside the usual
Accomplishments of the Needle, Dancing, and the French Tongue, shall
not fail to be your constant Readers. It is therefore my humble
Petition, that you will entertain the Town on this important Subject,
and so far oblige a Stranger, as to raise a Curiosity and Enquiry in
my Behalf, by publishing the following Advertisement.
I am, Sir,
Your constant Admirer,
M. W.
T.
Contents
Contents, p.4
The Boarding-School for young Gentlewomen, which was formerly kept on
Mile-End-Green, being laid down, there is now one set up almost opposite
to it at the two Golden-Balls, and much more convenient in every
Respect; where, beside the common Instructions given to young
Gentlewomen, they will be taught the whole Art of Paistrey and
Preserving, with whatever may render them accomplished. Those who please
to make Tryal of the Vigilance and Ability of the Persons concerned may
enquire at the two Golden-Balls on Mile-End-Green near Stepney, where
they will receive further Satisfaction.
This is to give Notice, that the Spectator has taken upon him to be
Visitant of all Boarding-Schools, where young Women are educated; and
designs to proceed in the said Office after the same Manner that the
Visitants of Colleges do in the two famous Universities of this Land.
All Lovers who write to the Spectator, are desired to forbear one
Expression which is in most of the Letters to him, either out of
Laziness, or want of Invention, and is true of not above two thousand
Women in the whole World; viz.
She has in her all that is valuable in
Woman.
|
Saturday, March 1, 1712 |
Addison |
Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus
Inciderit.
Hor.
advises a Poet to consider thoroughly the Nature and Force of his
Genius
.
Milton
seems to have known perfectly well, wherein his
Strength lay, and has therefore chosen a Subject entirely conformable to
those Talents, of which he was Master. As his Genius was wonderfully
turned to the Sublime, his Subject is the noblest that could have
entered into the Thoughts of Man. Every thing that is truly great and
astonishing, has a place in it. The whole System of the intellectual
World; the
Chaos
, and the Creation; Heaven, Earth and Hell; enter into
the Constitution of his Poem.
Having in the First and Second Books represented the Infernal World with
all its Horrors, the Thread of his Fable naturally leads him into the
opposite Regions of Bliss and Glory.
If
Milton's
Majesty forsakes him any where, it is in those Parts of his
Poem, where the Divine Persons are introduced as Speakers. One may, I
think, observe that the Author proceeds with a kind of Fear and
Trembling, whilst he describes the Sentiments of the Almighty. He dares
not give his Imagination its full Play, but chuses to confine himself to
such Thoughts as are drawn from the Books of the most Orthodox Divines,
and to such Expressions as may be met with in Scripture. The Beauties,
therefore, which we are to look for in these Speeches, are not of a
Poetical Nature, nor so proper to fill the Mind with Sentiments of
Grandeur, as with Thoughts of Devotion. The Passions, which they are
designed to raise, are a Divine Love and Religious Fear. The Particular
Beauty of the Speeches in the Third Book, consists in that Shortness and
Perspicuity of Style, in which the Poet has couched the greatest
Mysteries of Christianity, and drawn together, in a regular Scheme, the
whole Dispensation of Providence, with respect to Man. He has
represented all the abstruse Doctrines of Predestination, Free-Will and
Grace, as also the great Points of Incarnation and Redemption, (which
naturally grow up in a Poem that treats of the Fall of Man) with great
Energy of Expression, and in a clearer and stronger Light than I ever
met with in any other Writer. As these Points are dry in themselves to
the generality of Readers, the concise and clear manner in which he has
treated them, is very much to be admired, as is likewise that particular
Art which he has made use of in the interspersing of all those Graces of
Poetry, which the Subject was capable of receiving.
The Survey of the whole Creation, and of every thing that is transacted
in it, is a Prospect worthy of Omniscience; and as much above that, in
which