With charm of earlieft birds; pleafant the fun,
When firft on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glift'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth,
After foft fhow'rs, and fweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; the filent night,
With this her folemn bird, and this fair moon,
And thefe the gems of heaven, her ftarry train.
But neither breath of morn when he afcends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rifing Jun
In this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Gliftring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful ev'ning mild, nor filent night,
With this her folemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glitt'ring ftar-light, without thee is freet.

The variety of images in this paffage is infinitely pleafing, and the recapitulation of each particular image, with a little varying of the expreffion, makes one of the finest turns of words that I have ever seen, which I rather mention, because Mr. Dryden has faid in his preface to Juvenal, "That he could meet with no turn of words in Milton."

It may be further observed, that though the sweetness of these verses has something in it of a pastoral, yet it excels the ordinary kind, as much as the scene of it is above an ordinary field or meadow. I might here, fince I am accidentally led into this fubject, show several paffages in Milton that have as excellent turns of this nature, as any of our English poets whatsoever; but shall only mention that which follows, in which he describes the fallen angels engaged in the intricate difputes of predeftination, free-will, and foreknowledge; and to humour the perplexity, makes a kind of labyrinth in the very words that describe it.

Others apart fate on a hill retir'd,

In thoughts more elevate, and reafon'd high,
Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,
Fix'd fate, free-will, foreknowledge abfolute,
And found no end in wand'ring mazes loft.

CHAPTER XIX.

MR. BICKERSTAFF INTRODUCES (AS BETROTHED) HIS HALFSISTER, JENNY DISTAFF, WHO SPEAKS FOR HERSELF-THE EMPIRE OF BEAUTY.

AM called off from public differtations by a domestic affair of great importance, which is no less than the difpofal of my fifter Jenny for life. The girl is a girl of great merit and pleafing converfation; but I being born of my father's first wife and she of his third, she converses with me rather like a daughter than a fifter. I have indeed told her that if she behaved herself in fuch a manner as became the Bickerstaffs, I would get her an agreeable man for her husband, which was a promife I made her after reading a paffage in Pliny's Epiftles. That polite author had been employed to find out a confort for his friend's daughter, and gives the following character of the man he had pitched upon.

Aciliano plurimum vigoris et induftriæ quanquam in maxima verecundia eft illi facies liberalis, multo fanguine, multo rubore, fuffufa: eft ingenua totius corporis pulchritudo, et quidam fenatorius decor, que ego nequaquam arbitror negligenda: debet enim hoc caftitati puellarum quafi præmium dari.

Acilianus (for that was the gentleman's name) is a man of extraordinary vigour and industry, accompanied with the greatest modefty. He has very much of the gentleman, with a lively colour and flush of health in his aspect. His whole person is finely turned, and fpeaks him a man of quality, which are qualifications that I think ought by no means to be

overlooked, and should be bestowed on a daughter in reward of her purity."

In this difpofal of my fifter I have chosen with an eye to her being a wit, and provided that the bridegroom be a man of found and excellent judgment, who will seldom mind what The fays when she begins to harangue, for Jenny's only imperfection is an admiration of her own parts, which inclines her to be a little, but a very little, fluttish; and you are ever to remark that we are apt to cultivate most and bring into obfervation what we think most excellent in ourselves or most capable of improvement. Thus my fifter, instead of confulting her glafs and her toilet for an hour and a half after her private devotions, fits reading plays and romances.

Her wit the thinks her distinction, therefore knows nothing of the skill of dress, or making her perfon agreeable . . for she is so very a wit that she understands no ordinary thing in the world.

For this reason I have disposed of her to a man of business, who will foon let her fee that to be well dreffed, in good humour, and cheerful in the command of her family, are the arts and sciences of female life. I could have bestowed her upon a fine gentleman, who extremely admired her wit, and would have given her a coach and fix; but I found it abfolutely neceffary to cross the ftrain, for had they met, they had eternally been rivals in discourse, and in continual contention for the fuperiority of understanding, and brought forth critics, pedants, or pretty good poets. As it is, I expect an offspring fit for the habitation of the city, town, or country— creatures that are docile and tractable in whatever we put them to.

The happiness of the man who marries my sister will be, that he has no faults to correct in her but her own-a little bias of fancy or particularity of manners-which grew in herself, and can be amended by her. From fuch an untainted couple we can hope to have our family rise to its ancient splendour of face, air, countenance, manner, and shape.

My brother Ifaac having a sudden occafion to go out of town, ordered me to take upon me the despatch of the next advices from home, with liberty to speak in my own way, not doubting the allowances which would be given to a writer of my fex. You may be fure I undertook it with much fatisfaction; and, I confefs, I am not a little pleafed with the opportunity of running over all the papers in his clofet, which he has left open for my ufe on this occafion. The first that I lay my hands on, is a treatise concerning the Empire of Beauty,' and the effects it has had in all nations of the world, upon the public and private actions of men; with an appendix, which he calls, The Bachelor's Scheme for governing his Wife.' The first thing he makes this gentleman propofe is, that she shall be no woman, for fhe is to have an averfion to balls, to operas, to vifits; fhe is to think his company sufficient to fill up all the hours of life with great fatisfaction; she is never to believe any other man wife, learned, or valiant, or at least, but in a second degree. In the next place he intends fhe fhall be a c-k-ld; but expects that he himself must live in perfect fecurity from that terror. He dwells a great while on inftructions for her discreet behaviour, in case of his falsehood. I have not patience with these unreasonable expectations, therefore turn back to the treatise itself. Here, indeed, my brother deduces all the revolutions among men from the paffion of love, and in his preface answers that usual obfervation against us, "That there is no quarrel without a woman in it;" with a gallant affertion, "That there is nothing else worth quarrelling for." My brother is of a complexion truly amorous-all his thoughts and actions carry in them a tincture of that obliging inclination; and this turn has opened his eyes to fee, we are not the inconfiderable creatures which unlucky pretenders to our favour would infinuate. He obferves, that no man begins to make any tolerable figure, till he fets out with the hopes of pleasing some one of us. No fooner he takes that in hand, but he pleases every one else by the bye. It has an immediate effect upon his behaviour. There is Colonel Ranter, who never spoke without an oath, till he faw the Lady Betty Modifh; now, never gives his man an order,

but it is, "Pray Tom, do it." The drawers where he drinks, live in perfect happiness. He asked Will at the George the other day, "How he did?" Where he used to fay, "D-n it, it is fo," he now believes "there is some mistake. He must confefs, he is of another opinion; but, however, he will not infift."

Every temper, except downright infipid, is to be animated and foftened by the influence of beauty; but of this untractable fort is a lifelefs handsome fellow that visits us, whom I have dressed at this twelvemonth; but he is as infensible of all the arts I use, as if he converfed all that time with his nurse. He outdoes our whole sex in all the faults our enemies impute to us-he has brought laziness into an opinion, and makes his indolence his philosophy, infomuch that no longer ago than yesterday in the evening he gave me this account of himself: "I am, madam, perfectly unmoved at all that paffes among men, and feldom give myself the fatigue of going among them; but when I do, I always appear the fame thing to those whom I converfe with. My hours of existence, or being awake, are from eleven in the morning to eleven at night, half of which I live to myself, in picking my teeth, washing my hands, paring my nails, and looking in the glass. The infignificancy of my manners to the reft of the world makes the laughers call me a quidnunc, a phrase which I neither understand nor fhall ever inquire what they mean by it. The laft of me each night is at St. James's coffee-house, where I converse, yet never fall into a dispute on any occafion, but leave the understanding I have paffive of all that goes through it, without entering into the bufinefs of life. And thus, madam, have I arrived by lazinefs, to what others pretend to be philofophy, a perfect neglect of the world." Sure, if our fex had the liberty of frequenting publick-houses and converfations, we should put these rivals of our faults and follies out of countenance. However, we shall foon have the pleasure of being acquainted with them one way or other; for my brother Ifaac defigns, for the ufe of our fex, to give the exact characters of all the chief politicians who frequent any of the coffee-houfes from St. James's to the 'Change, but