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I might here mention an epistolary poem, just published by Mr. Eusden, on the king's accession to the throne; wherein, among many other noble and beautiful strokes of poetry, his reader may see this rule very happily observed.
N° 619. FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1714.
-dura Exerce imperia, et ramos compesce
VIRG, Georg. ii. 369. -Exert a rigorous sway, And lop the too luxuriant boughs away, I HAVE often thcught that if the several letters which are written to me under the character of Spectator, and which I have not made use of, were published in a volume, they would not be an un. entertaining collection. The variety of the subjects, styles, sentiments, and informations, which are transmitted to me, would lead a very curious, or very idle, reader insensibly along through a great many pages. I know some authors who would pick up a secret history out of such materials, and make a bookseller an alderman by the copy. I shall therefore carefully preserve the original papers in a room set apart for that purpose, to the end that they may be of service to posterity; but shall at present content myself with owning the receipt of se. veral letters, lately come to my hands, the authors whereof are impatient for an answer.
Charissa, whose letter is dated from Cornhill, desires to be eased in some scruples relating to tho skill of astrologers. -Referred to the dumb man for an answer.
J. C. who proposes a love case, as he calls it, to the love casuist, is hereby desired to speak of it to the minister of the parish; it being a case of conscience
The poor young lady, whose letter is dated Oc.. tober 26, who complaius of a harsh guardian and an unkind brother, can only have my good wishes, unless she pleases to be more particular.
The petition of a certain gentleman, whose name I have forgot, famous for renewing the curls of de. cayed periwigs, is referred to the censor of small wares.
The remonstrance of T. C. against the profa. nation of the sabbath by barbers, shoe.cleaners, &c. had better be offered to the society of reformers.
A learned and laborious treatise upon the art of fencing, returned to the author.
To the gentlemen of Oxford, who desires me to insert a copy of Latin verses, which were denied a place in the university books. Answer: Nonum prematur in annum.
To my learned correspondent who writes against master's gowns, and poke sleeves, with a word in defence of large scarfs. Answer: I resolve not to raise animosities amongst the clergy.
To the lady who writes with rage against one of her own sex, upon the account of party warnth. Answer: Is not the lady she writes against reckoned handsome ?
I desire Tom Truelove (who sends me a sonnet upon his mistress, with a desire to print it im. mediately) to consider that it is long since I was in love. I shall answer a very profound letter from my
old friend the upholsterer, who is still inquisitive whe. ther the king of Sweden be living or dead, by wbis, pering him in the ear, that I believe he is alive.
Let Mr. Dapperwit consider, What is that long story of the cuckoldom to me?
At the earnest desire of Monimia's lover, who declares himself very penitent, he is recorded in my paper by the name of the faithful Castalio.
The petition of Charles Cocksure, which the petitioner styles very reasonable,' rejected.
The memorial of Philander, which he desires may be dispatched out of hand, postponed.
I desire S. R. not to repeat the expression under the sun,' so often in his next letter.
The letter of P. S. who desires either to have it printed entire, or committed to the flames; not to be printed entire.
N° 620. MONDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1714.
Hie vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti sæpiùs audis.
VIRG. Æn. vi. 791. Behold the promis'd chief!
HAVING lately presented my reader with a copy
of verses full of the false sublime, I shall here commu. nicate to him an excellent specimen of the true : though it hath not been yet published, the judicious reader will readily discern it' to be the work of a master; and if he hath read that noble poem on the prospect of
he will not be at a loss to guess at the author.
THE ROYAL PROGRESS.
In golden chains the kings of India led,
• By longing nations for the throne design'd, And callid to guard the rights of human-kind; With secret grief his godlike soul repines, And Britain's crown with joyless lustre shines, While pray’rs and tears his destin'd progress stay, And crowds of moumers choke their sovereign's way. Not so he march'd when hostile squadrons stood In seenes of death, and fir'd his generous blood; When his hot courser paw'd th' Hungarian plain, And adverse legions stood the shock in vain. His frontiers past, the Belgian bounds he vicws, And cross the level fields his march pursues. Here pleas'd the land of freedom to survey, He greatly scorns the thirst of boundless sway. O'er the thin soil, with silent joy, he spies Transplanted woods and borrow'd verdure rise; Where ev'ry meadow, won with toil and blood From haughty tyrants and the raying flood, With fruits and Howers the careful hind supplies, And clothes the marshes in a rich disguise. Such wealth for frugal hands doth Heaven decrce, And such thy gifts, celestial Liberty!
Through stately towns, and many a fertile plain,
• In Haga's towers he waits till eastern gales Propitious rise to swell the British sails. Hither the fame of England's monarch brings The vows and friendships of the neighb'ring kings; Mature in wisdom, his extensive mind Takes in the blended interest of mankind, The world's great patriot. Calm thy anxious breast, Secure in him, o Europe, take thy rest; Henceforth thy kingdoms shall remain confin'd By rocks and streams, the mounds which Heav'n design'd; The Alps their new made monarch shall restrain, Nor shall thy hills, Pyrene, rise in vain.
• But see, to Britain's isle the squadrons stand,
the tributes hast’ning to thy throne, And see the wide horizon all thy own.
"Still is it thine; tho' now the cheerful crew
· As in the flood he sails, from either side