STEELE. Sir Roger from a Shewman .................................... ADDISON. 272. Letters from Cleanthes on a mischiefmaking Censure of Public Vices-Complexions UNKNOWN, 290. Tragedy of the Distressed Mother-Letter from Sophia in love with a short Face 291. Criticism on Paradise Lost 292. On the Art of bestowing Favours-Letter Jezabel.. ...... ...... 29. Connexion betwixt Prudence and good For- tune-Fable of a Drop in the Ocean 294. On want of Charity in the Wealthy-Cha- STEELE. UNKNOWN. ADDISON. STEELE. ADDISON. 295. Letter on Pin-Money-Reflections on that Custom 296. Letters on Greek Mottos-the Use of the Window-soliciting Advice-Lampoons STEELE. Woman of Quality ... 299. Letter from Sir John Envil, married to a 300. Indelicate Conversation-Conversation with the Fair Sex-Inconstancy of Friend- 301. Letter to Chloe from her Lover, with an Account of his Dreams STEELE. BUDGELL. DR. BROME. 304. Letter from a silent Lover-Petition of An- thony Titlepage-of Barth. Lady-love STEELE. 305. Project of the French Political Academy ADDISON 308. On the better regulating of Matches- STEELE. 309. Criticism on Paradise Lost... ....... 310. Letters from various Lovers-on Tale-bear- Spectator ADDISON. STEELE. THE SPECTATOR. No. 254. FRIDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1711. Σεμνὸς ἔρως ἀρετῆς, ὁ δὲ κυπρίνος ἄχος ἐφέλλει. Virtuous love is honourable, but lust increaseth sorrow. WHEN I consider the false impressions which are received by the generality of the world, I am troubled at none more than at a certain levity of thought, which many young women of quality have entertained, to the hazard of their characters, and certain misfortune of their lives. The first of the following letters may best represent the faults I would now point at, and the answer to it, the temper of mind in a contrary character. 'MY DEAR HARRIOT, 'If thou art she, but oh how fallen, how changed, what an apostate! how lost to all that is gay and agreeable! To be married I find is to be buried alive; I cannot conceive it more dismal to be shut up in a vault to converse with the shades of my ancestors, than to be carried down to an old manor-house in the country, and confi ned to the conversation of a sober husband, and an awkward chambermaid. For variety I suppose you may entertain yourself with madam in her grogram gown, the spouse of your parish vicar, who has by this time, I am sure, well furnished you with receipts for making salves and possets, distilling cordial waters, making syrups, and applying poultices. Blest solitude! I wish thee joy, my dear, of thy loved retirement, which indeed you would persuade me is very agreeable, and different enough from what I have here described: but, child, I am afraid thy brains are a little disordered with romances and novels. After six months marriage to hear thee talk of love, and paint the country scenes so softly, is a little extravagant; one would think you lived the lives of sylvan deities, or roved among the walks of paradise, like the first happy pair. But pray thee leave these whimsies, and come to town in order to live, and talk like other mortals. However, as I am extremely interested in your reputation, I would willingly give you a little good advice at your first appearance under the character of a married woman. It is a little insolent in me, perhaps, to advise a matron; but I am so afraid you will make so silly a figure as a fond wife, that I cannot help warning you not to appear in any public places with your husband, and never to saunter about St. James's Park together: if you presume to enter the ring at Hyde Park together, you are ruined for ever; nor must you take the least notice of one another at the play-house, or opera, unless you would be laughed at for a very loving couple, most happily paired in the yoke of wedlock. I would recommend the example of an acquaintance of ours to your imitation; she is the most negligent and |