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the proper use of riches implies that a man should others. As for this particular occasion of these exert all the good qualities imaginable; and if schools, there cannot any offer more worthy a we mean by a man of condition or quality, one generous mind. Would you do an handsome who, according to the wealth he is matter of, thing without return? do it for an infant that thews himself just, beneficent, and charitable, is not sensible of the obligation. Would you that term oughe very deservedly to be had in the do it for public good ? do it for one who would higheft veneration; but when wealth is used only be an honest artificer. Would you do it for the as it is the support of pomp and luxury, to be sake of heaven? give it to one who shall be in. rich is very far from being a recommendation to structed in the worship of him for whose sake honour and respect. It is indeed the greatest in- you give it. It is methinks a moft laudable infolence imaginable, in a creature who would stitution this, if it were of no other expectation feel the extremes of thirst and hunger, if he did than that of producing a race of good and use. not prevent his appetites before they call upon ful servants, who will have more than a liberal, him, to be so forgetful of the common necessity a religious education. What would not a man of human nature, as never to cast an eye upon do, in common prudence, to lay out in purthe poor and needy. The fellow who escaped chase of one about him, who would add to all from a ship which itruck upon a rock in the west, his orders he gave, the weight of the commandand joined with the country-people to destroy ments to enforce an obedience to them? for one his brother sailors, and make her a wreck, was who would consider his master as his father, his thought a mod execrable creature; but does not friend, and benefactor, upon the easy terms, and every man who enjoys the poffession of what he in expectation of no other return but moderate naturally wants, and is unmindful of the unsup- wages and gentle usage? It is the common vice plied distress of other men, betray the same tem of children to run too much among the servants; per of mind ? When a man looks about him, from such as are educated in these places they and with regard to riches and poverty beholds would see nothing but lowliness in the servant, some drawn in pomp and equipage, and they which would not be disingenuous in the child. and their very fervants with an air of scorn and All the ill offices and defamatory whispers, which triumph overlooking the multitude that pass by take their birth from domestics, would be preventthem; and, in the same street, a creature of the ed if this charity could be made universal; and a fame make crying out in the name of all that is good man might have a knowledge of the whole good and sacred to behold his misery and give life the persons he designs to take into his him some supply against hunger and nakedness; house for his own service, or that of his family who would believe these two beings were of the or children, long before they were admitted. same species? But so it is, that the consideration This would create endearing dependencies : and of fortune has taken up all our minds, and, as, I the obligation would have a paternal air in the have often complained, poverty and riches stand master, who would be relieved from much care in our imaginations in the places of guilt and in- and anxiety from the gratitude and diligence of

But in all seasons there will be some an humble friend attending him as a servant. instances of persons who have fouls too large to I fall into this discourse from a letter sent to me, be taken with popular prejudices, and while the to give me notice that fity boys would be rest of mankind are contending for fuperiority in clothed, and take their seats, at the charge of power and wealth, have their thoughts bent some generous benefactors, in St, Bride's church upon the necessities of those below them. The on Sunday next. I wish I could promise to mycharity. schools, which have been erected of late felf any thing which my correfpondent seems to years, are the greatest instances of public fpirit expect from a publication of it in this paper; the age has produced: but indeed when we con for there can be nothing added to what so many lider how long this sort of beneficence has been excellent and learned men have said on this ocon foot, it is rather from the good management casion : but that there may be something here of those institutions, thán from the number or which would move a generous mind, like that value of the benefactions to them, that they make of him who writ to me, I fall transcribe an so great a figure. One would think it impossible handsoine paragraph of Dr. Snape's sermon on that in the space of fourteen years there Mould these charities, which my correspondent inclosed not have been five thousand pounds bestowed in with his letter. gifts this way, nor fixteen hundred children, in " The wise Providence has amply compencluding males and females, put out to methods “ fated the disadvantages of the poor and in of industry. It is not allowed me to speak of « digent, wanting many of the conveniencies luxury and folly with the severe spirit they de ss of this life, by a more abundant provision for serve; I shall only therefore say, I shall very “ their happiness in the next. Had they been readily compound with any lady in a hoop-pet “ higher born or more richly endowed, they ticoat, if the gives the price of one half yard of « would have wanted this manner of education, the fifk towards clothing, feeding, and instructing « of which those only enjoy the benefit, who an innocent helpless creature of her own rex'in «s are low enough to submit to it; where they one of these schools. The consciousness of such “ have such advantages without money, and an action will give her features a nobler life on “ without price, as the rich cannot purchase this illustrious day, than all the jewels that can « with it. The learning which is given, is hang in her hair, or can be cluttered in her bo generally more edifying to them, than that som. It would be uncourtly to speak in larther " which is sold to others: thus do they become words to the fair, but to men one may take a “ more exalted in goodness, by being depretred little more freedom. It is monstrous how a man « in fortune, and their poverty is, in reality, can live with so little reflexion as to fancy he is " their preferment.”

T not in a condition very unjust and disproportioned to the rest of mankind, while he enjoys wealth, and exerts no benevolence or bounty to




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accessary to his own dishonour. We may, indeed, N° 295. THURSDAY, FEB. 7. generally observe, that in proportion as a woman

is more or less beautiful, and her husband adProdiga non sentir pereuniem fæmina cenfum: vanced in years, the stands in need of a greater or At velut exbaufiá redivivus pullulet arca leis number of pins, and upon a treaty of marriage, Nummus, et è pieno semiper iollatur acervo, rises or falls in her demands accordingly. It Non unquam reputat, quanti fibi gaudia confant. must likewise be owned, that high quality in 4

Juv. Sat. 6. ver. 361. mistress does very much inflame this article in the But womankind, that never knows a mean,

marriage reckoning. Down to the dregs their finking fortunes drain :

But where the age and circumstances of both Hourly they give, and spend, and waite, and parties are pretty much upon a level, I cannoć

but think the inffing upon pin-money is very And think no pleasure can be bought too dear.

extraordinary; and yet we find several matches DRYDEN.

broken off upon this very head. What would a

foreigner, or one who is a Aranger to this practice, " Mr. Spectator,

think of a lover that forsakes his mistress, because Am turned of my great climateric, and am he is not willing to keep her in pins; or what I

naturally a man of a meek temper. About would he think of the mistress, thould he be in. • a dozen years ago I was married, for my sins, to formed that the aiks five or fix hundred pounds a • a young womari of a good family, and of an high year for this use? Should a man unacquainted

fpirit ; but could not bring her to close with me, with our customs be told the fums which are al• before I had entered into a greaty with her long lowed in Great-Britain, under the title of pin« er than that of the grand alliance. Among money, what a prodigious consumption of pins • other articles, it was therein ftipulated, that the would he think there was in this island ? “ A pin « should have 4001. a year for pin-money, which “ a day," says our frugal proverb, " is a groat a • I obliged myself to pay quarterly into the hands year," fo that, according to this calculation,

of one who acted as her plenipotentiary in that my friend Fribble's wife must every year maké

affair. I have ever fince religioully observed ute of eight millions fix hundred and forty thou( my part in this folemn agreement. Now, Sir, sand new pins. • so it is, thas the lady has had several children I am not ignorant that our British ladies als < fince I married her ; to which, if I should cre- ledge they comprehend under this general term le.

dit our malicious neighbours, her pin-moncy veral other conveniencies of life ; I could there

has not a little contributed. The education of fore with, for the honour of my countrywomen, • these my children, who, contrary to my expec- that they had rather called it needle-money, which

tation, are born to me every year, itraitens me might have implied fomething of good housewife

so much, that I have begged their mother to ry, and not have given the malicious world occa« free me from the obligation of the above mentioned fion to think, that dress and trifle have always • pir-money, that it may go towards making a pro- the uppermost place in a woman's thoughts. • vision for her family. This propotal makes her I know leveral of my fair readers urge, in de« noble blood fweil in her veins, infomuch that fence of this practice, that it is but a necessary

finding me a little tardy in her last quarter's pay- provision they make for themselves, in case their

ment, the threatens me every day to arrest me ; husband proves á churl or a miser; so that they • and proceeds so far as to tell ine, that if I do consider this allowance as a kind of alimony, which i nor do her justice, I shall die in a jail. 'To they may lay their claim to without actually se

this the adds, when her passion will let her ar- parating from their husbands. But with submita

gue calmly, that the has several play debts on fion, I think a woman who will give up herself to " her hand, which must be discharged very sud a man in marriage, where there is the least room denly, and that the cannot lose her money as

for such an apprehension, and trust her person to i becomes a woman of her faihion, if the makes one whom the will not rely on for the common • me any abatements in this article. I hope, Sir, necessaries of life, may very properly be accused,

you will take an occasion from hence to give in the phrase of an homely proverb, of being your opinion upon a subject which you have not penny wise and pound foolith.” yet touched, and inform as if there are any pre

It is observed of over-cautious generals, that • cedents for this usage among our ancestors; or they never engage in a battle without securing

whether you find any mention of pin-money retreat, in case the event thould not answer their in Grotius, Puffendorf, or any other of the ci- expectations : on the other hand, the greatest convilians.

querers have burnt their thips, or broke down the I am ever the humblest of your admirers, bridges behind them, as being determined either to Josiah Fribble, Esq.? succeed, or die in the engagement. In the same

manner I Thould very much suspcet a woman who As there is no man living who is a more pro- takes fich precautions for her retreat, and contrives feffed advocate for the fair sex than myself, fo methods how the may live happily, without the there is none who would be more unwilling to in affection of one to whom she joins herself for life. vade any of their ancient rights and privileges ; Separate purses between man and wife are, in my but as the doctrine of pin-inoney is of a very late opinion, as unnatural as separate beds. A marria date, unknown to our great grand-mothers, and age cannot be happy, where the pleafures, inclinot yet received by many of our modern ladies, nations, and interests of both parties are not the I think it is for the interest of both sexes to keep fame. There is no greater incitement to love in it from spreading.

the mind of man, than the tense of a person's Mr. Fribble may not, perhaps, be much mis- depending upon him for her case and happiness ; taken where he intimates, that the supplying à as a woman ufes all her endeavours to please the man's wife with pin-money, is furnishing her with person whom the looks upon as her honour, her arms againt himself, and in a manner becoming comfort, and her support.


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For this reafon I am not very much surprised at ance of a spelling-book it is legible; which quathe behaviour of a rough country 'squire; who "lity the Greek wants : and since the introduction being not a little shocked at the proceeding of a • of operas into this nation, the ladies are to young widow that would nor recede from her de charmed with founds abstracted from their ideas, mands of pin-money, was so enraged at her mer that they adore and 'honour the found of Latin cenary temper, that he told her in great wrath, as it is old Italian. I am a solicitor for the

as much as the thought him her slave, he 6 fair-fex, and therefore think myself in that 66 would thew all the world he did not care a pin o character more likely to be prevalent in this re« for her.” Upon which he flew out of the room, quest, than if I lhould fubscribe myself by my and never saw her more

proper name. Socrates, in Plato's Alcibiades, says, he was

• J. M. informed by one who had travelled through Perfia, that as he passed over å great tract of lands, and " I desire you may insert tkis in one of your inquired svhat the name of the place was, they speculations, to fhew my zeal for removing the told him it was the Queen's girdle ; to which he difatisfaction of the fair-sex, and restoring you adds, that another wide field, which láy by it, ( to their favour.' was called the Queen's veil; and that in the same manner there was a large portion of ground fet

"SI R, afide for every part of her Majesty's dress. These Was some time since in company with a lands might not improperly be called the Queen of Persia's pin-money.

conquest he had made over a female neighbour I remember my friend Sir Roger, who I dare of his; when a gentleman who stood by, as I say never read this paffage in Plato, told me some « fuppote, envying the captain's good fortunc, time since, that upon his courting the preverse asked him what reason he had to believe the lady widow, of whom I have given an account in • admired him? Why, says he, my lodgings are former papers, he had disposed of an hundred apposite to her's, and she is continuaily at her acres in a diamond ring, which he would have window either at work, reading, taking souff, presented her with, had the thought fit to accept 5 or putting herself in some toying posture on purit; and that upon her wedding day she would have pofe to draw my eyes that way. The confeflion carried on her head fifty of the tallest oaks upon

of this vain soldier made me reflect on foine of his efiate. He further informed me that he would my own actions ; for you must know, Sir, I have given her a coal-pit to keep her in clean am often at a window which fronts the apartJinen ; that he would have allowed her the profits (ments of several gentlemen, who I doubt noz of a wind-mill for her fans, and have presented

have the same opinion of me.

I must own I her once in three years with the shearing of his I love to look at them all, one for being well theep for her under-petticoats. To which the • dressed, a second for his fine eye, and one parknight always adds, that lhough he did not care « ţicular one, because he is the feast man I ever for fine cloathis himself, there should not have been • law; but there is something so easy and pleasant

woman in the country better dressed than my in the manner of my little man, that I obferve (ady Coverley. Sir Roger, perhaps, may in this, he is a favourite of all his acquaintance. I as well as in many other of his devices, appear could go on to tell you of many others, that I something odd and singular ; but if the humour of • believe think I have encouraged them from my pin-money prevails, I think it would be very 'pro-window : but pitky let me have your opinion of per for every gentleman of an estate to mark out the use of the window in a beautiful lady; and so many acres of it under the title of 6. The how often the may look out at the same man, 6 Pins.”

L (without being supposed to have à mind to jump out to him.

? Your's,

6 Aurelia Careless." N° 296. FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 8,

-Nugis addere pondus.

• Mr. Spectator,
Hor. Ep. 19. lib. 1. ver. 42. Have' for some time made love to a lady, who
-Add weight to trifles.

received it with all the kind returns I ought

to expect : but without any provocation, that I Dear Spec.

know of, the has of late thunned me with the

" utmost abhorrence, insomuch that the went out sex on the subject of your speculations, of churchi last Sunday in the midst of divina which, fince their appearance in public, have • service, upon my coming into the same pew. « been the chief exercise of the female l'oquacious « Pray, Sir, what must I do in this business? faculty, I found the fair ones poffeffcd with a

• Your servant, dissatisfaction at your prefixing Greek mottoes

Euphues.' to the frontispiece of your late papers ; and, as Let her alone ten days.

a man of gallantry, I thought it a duty incum-
! bent 'on me to impart it to you, in hopes of a " Mr. Spetatori

York, Jan. 20, 1711-12. & reformation, which is only to be effected by a

E have in this town a sort of people who • restoration of the Latin 'to the usual dignity in

pretend to wit, and write lampoons : I your papers, which; of late, the Greek, to the have lately been the subject of one of them. The • great displeafure of your female readers, has • fcribbler had not genius enough in verse to turn

usurped ; for though the Latin has the recom my age, as indeed I am an old maid, into railmendation of being as unintelligible to them as 'lery, for affecting a youthier turn than is conthe Greek, yet being written of the same chia ' fiftent with my time of day; and therefore he racter with their mother-tongue, by the affilt makes the title of "his Madrigal, the character


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? of Mrs. Judith Lovebane, born in the year 1680. The fable of every poem is, according to Ari• What 1 desire of you is, that you disallow that stotle's division, either simple or implex. It ® a coxcomb, who pretends to write verse, should is called simple when there is no change of for• put the most malicious thing he can say in prose. tune in it; implex, when the fortune of the • This I humbly conceive will disable our country chief actor changes from bad to good, or from

wits, who indeed take a great deal of pains to good to bad. The implex fable is thought to say any thing in rhyme, though they say it be the most perfect; I suppose, because it is

more proper to flir up the pailions of the reader, • I am, Sir,

and to surprise him with a greater variety of ac" Your humble servant,

cidents. • Sufanna Lovebane.' The implex fable is therefore of two kinds;

in the firit the chief actor makes his way through « Mr. Spe&tator,

a long series of dangers and difficulties, until E are several of us, gentlemen and la- he arrives at honour and prosperity, as we see

dies, who board in the lame house, and in the story of Ulysses. In the second, the chief • after dinner one of our company, an agreeable actor in the poem falls from some eminent pitch ( man enough otherwise, itands up and reads your of honour and prosperity, into misery and dis

paper to us all. We are the civileit people in grace. Thus we fee Adam and Eve finking E the world to one another, and therefore I am from a state of innocence and happiness, into the ? forced to this way of deliring our reader, when most abject condition of fin and sorrow.

he is doing this otice, not to itand afore the fire. The most taking tragedies among the ancients, • This will be a general good to our family this were built on this laft sort of implex fable, par6 cold weather. He will, I know, take it to be ticularly the tragedy of Oedipus, which proceeds • our common requelt when he comes to thefe upon a ftory, if we may believe Aristotle, the

words, “ Pray, Sir, sit down ;” which I delire most proper for tragedy thạt could be invented you to infert, and you will particularly oblige by the wit of man. I have taken some pains in • Your daily reader,

a former paper to shew, that this kind of implex Charity Frost.' fable, wherein the event is unhappy, is more

apt to affect an audience than that of the first “SIR,

kind; notwithstanding many excellent pieces AM a great lover of dancing, but cannet among the ancients, as well as most of those

perform 10 well as fome others; however, by which have been written of late years in our my out-of-the-way capers, and fome original own country, are raised upon contrary plans. I « grimaces, I do not fail to divert the company, muft however own, that I think this kind of fa• particularly the ladies, who laugh immoderately ble, which is the most perfect in tragedy, is not

all the tine. Some, who pretend to be my so proper for an heroic poem. « friends, tell me they do it in derision, and would Milton seems to have been sensible of this im. < advise me to leave it off, withal that I make perfection in his fable, and has therefore en, < myself ridiculous. I do not know what to do deavoured cure it by several expedients; « in this affair, but I am resolved not to give over particularly by the mortification which the

upon any account, until I have the opinion of great adversary of mankind meęts with upon o the Spectator.

his return to the assembly of infernal spirits, as • Your humble servant, it is described in a beautiful passage in the tenth

John Trott.' book; and likewise by the vision wherein Adam

at the close of the poem sees his offspring triF Mr. Trott is not aukward out of time, he umphing over his great enemy, and himself re

has a right to dancc let who will laugh ; but stored to a happier Paradise than that from it he has no ear he will interrupt others ; and I am which he fell. of opinion he should fit ftill. Given under my There is another objection against Milton's band this fifth of February, 1711-12.

fable, which is indeed almost the fame with the T

The Spectator. former, though placed in a different light,

namely, that the hero in Paradise Loft is un. successful, and by no means a match for his

enemies. This gave occasion to Mr. Dryden's N° 297. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 9. reflexion, that the devil was in reality Milton's -velut fi

hero. I think I have obviated this objection Egregio inspersos reprendas corpore nævos. in my first paper. The Paradise Loft is an epic Hor. Sat. 6. lib. 1. v. 66. or a narrative poem, and he that looks for an

hero in it, searches for that which Milton never As perfect beauties often have a mole. intended ; but if he will needs fix the name of an

CkEECH. hero upon any person in it, it is certainly the

Meffiah who is the hero, both in the principal FTER what I have said in my last Satur- action, and in the chief episode. Paganism day's paper,

I fall enter on the subject of could not furnish out a real action for a fable this

without further preface, and remark the re- greater than that of the Iliad or Æneid, and veral defects which appear in the fable, the cha therefore an heathen could not form ạn higher racters, the sentiments, and the language of notion of a poem than one of that kind, which Milton's Paradise Lost; not doubting but the they call an heroic. Whether Milton's is not reader will pardon me, if I alledge at the same of a sublimer nature I will not presume to detime whatever may be said for the extenuation termine : it is sufficient that I fhew there is in of such defects. The first imperfection which I' the Paradise Loft a!l the greatness of plan, regu, fhall observe in the fable is, that the event of it larity of design, and masterly beauties which we is unhappy:

discover in Homer and Virgil,



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I must in the next place observe, that Milton suffer not only by its real weight, but by the aphas interwoven in the texture of his fable fome prehenfion of it. Milton's complaint for his particulars which do not seem to have probabi- blindness, his panegyric on marriage, his relity enough for an epic poem, particularly in flexions on Adam and Eve's going naked, of the the actions which he ascribes to fin and death,' angels eating, and several other passages in his and the picture which he draws of the Limbo of poem, are liable to the same exception, thougly Vanity, with other passages in the second book. I must confefs there is so great a beauty in these Such allegories rather favour of the spirit very digressions, that I would not wish them out of Spenser and Ariosto, than of Homer and of his poem. Virgil.

I have, in a former paper, spoken of the chan In the structure of this poem he has likewise racters of Milton's Paradise Loft, and declared admitted too many digressions. It is finely ob- my opinion, as to the allegorical persons who served by Aristotle,' that the author of an heroic are introduced in it. poem thould seldom speak himself, but throw as If we look into the sentiments, I think they much of his work as he can into the mouths of are sometimes defective under the following those who are his principal actors. Aristotle heads; first, as there are several of them too has given no reason for this precept : but I pre- much pointed, and fome that degenerate even sume it is because the mind of the reader is into puns. Of this lart kind I am afraid is that more awed and elevated when he hears Æneas in the first book, where, speaking of the pyga or Achilles speak, than when Virgil or Homer mies, he calls them, talk in their own perfons. Besides, that af

-The fmall infantry, suming the character of an eminent man is apt

Warr’d on by cranesto fire the imagination, and raise the ideas of the author. Tully tells us, mentioning his dia Another blemish that appears in some of his logue of old age, in which Cato is the chief thoughts, is his frequent allufion to heathen speaker, that upon a review of it he was agree- fables, which are not certainly of a piece with ably imposed upon, and fancied that it was Cato the divine subject of which he treats. I do not and not he himself, who uttered his thoughts find fault with these allufions, where the poet on that subject.

himfelf represents them as fabulous, as he does If the reader would be at the pains to see, in some places, but where he mentions them as how the story of the Iliad and the neid is truths and matters of fact. The limits of my delivered by those persons who act in it, he will paper will not give me leave to be particular in be surprised to find how little in either of these instances of this kind ; the reader will easily repoems proceeds from the authors. Milton has, mark them in his perufal of the poem. in the general disposition of his fable, very finely A third fault in his sentiments, is an unnes observed this great rule; infomuch, that there is cessary oftentation of learning, which likewise scarce a third part of it which comes from the occurs very frequently. It is certain that both poet; the rest is spoken either by Adam and Homer and Virgil were masters of all the learning Eve, or by some good or evil spirit who of their times, but it shews itself in their works is engaged either in their destruction or defence. after an indirect and concealed manner. Milton

From what has been here observed it appears, seems ambitious of letting us know, by his extliat digreffions are by no means to be allowed curgons on free will and predestination, and his of in an epic poem. If the poet, even in the many glances upon history, astronomy, geograordinary course of his narration, should speak 'phy, and the like, as well as by the terms as little as possible, he thould certainly never and phrases he sometimes makes use of, that he let his narration neep for the sake of any reflexi was acquainted with the whole circte of arts ons of his own. I have often observed, with a and sciences. secret admiration, that the longest reflexion in If in the last place we consider the language the Æneid is in that passage of the tenth book, of this great poet, we must allow what I have where Turnus is represented as dressing himself hinted at in a former paper, that it is often too in the spoils of Pallas, whom he had sain. Vir- much laboured, and sometimes obscured by old gil here lets his fable stand still for the sake of words, transpusitions, and foreign idionas. Sethe following remark. " How is the mind of neca's objection to the stile of a great author, “ man ignorant of futurity, and unable to bear Riget ejus oratio, nibil in placidum, nibil lene, “ prosperous fortune with moderation! The is what many critics make to Milton : as I cans time will come when Turnus shall with that

not wholly refute it, so I have already apolo« he had left the body of Pallas untouched, and gized for it in another paper : to which I may “ curse the day on which he dressed himself in further add, that Milton's sentiments and ideas " thesespoils." As the great event of the Æneid, were so wonderfully sublime, that it would have and the death of Turnus, whom Æneas new been impossible for him to have represented them because he saw him adorned with the 1poils of in their full strength and beauty, without having Pallas, turns upon this incident, Virgil went recourse to these foreign affistances. Our lanout of his way to make this reflexion upon it, guage funk under him, and was unequal to that without which so small a circumstance might greatness of foul, which furnished him with such possibly have nipt out of his reader's memory. glorious conceptions. Lucan, who was an injudicious poet, lets drop A second fault in his language is that he often his story very frequently for the sake of his un affects a kind of jingle in his words, as in the necessary digressions, or his Diverticula, as Scan following' passages, and many others : liger calls them. If he gives us an acccunt And brought into the World a World of woe, of the prodigies which preceded the civil war,

-Begirt th' Almighty throne he declaims upon the occasion, and shews how Beseeching or besiegingmuch happier it would be for man,

if he did not This tempted our attempt feel liis evil fortune before it comes to pass; and At one night.bound high overleart all bsund. 6.

I know

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