putting out another, and growing famous again for two days.

I must not close my discourse upon silence, without informing my reader, that I have by me an elaborate treatise on the aposiopesis, called an et cætera; it being a figure much used by some learned authors, and particularly by the great Littleton, who, as my lord chief justice Coke observes, had a most admirable talent at an &c.

ADVERTISEMENT.

To oblige the pretty fellows, and my fair readers, I have thought fit to insert the whole passage abovementioned relating to Dido, as it is translated by Mr. Dryden 2.

Not far from thence, the mournful fields appear;

So call'd from lovers that inhabit there.

The souls, whom that unhappy flame invades,

In secret solitude, and myrtle shades,

Make endless moans; and, pining with desire,
Lament too late their unextinguish'd fire.
Here Procris, Eriphyle here, he found

Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound
Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there,
With Phædra's ghost, a foul incestuous pair:
There Laodamia with Evadne moves:
Unhappy both; but loyal in their loves.
Cœneus, a woman once, and once a man;
But ending in the sex she first began.
Not far from these Phoenician Dido stood;
Fresh from her wound, her bosom bath'd in blood:
Wham, when the Trojan hero hardly knew,
Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view,

2 Æneid, book vi. 440.

(Doubtful as he who runs thro' dusky night,
Or thinks he sees the moon's uncertain light,)
With tears he first approach'd the sullen shade,
And as his love inspir'd him, thus he said:

Unhappy queen! then is the common breath
Of rumour true, in your reported death?
And I, alas! the cause. By heav'n I vow,
And all the powers that rule the realms below,
Unwilling I forsook your friendly state!
Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by fate;
Those gods, that fate, whose unresisted might
Have sent me to these regions void of light,
Through the vast empire of eternal night.
Nor dar'd I to presume, that, press'd with grief,
My flight should urge you to this dire relief.
Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows;
'Tis the last interview that fate allows!'

In vain he thus attempts her mind to move, With tears and prayers, and late repenting love. Disdainfully she look'd; then turning round, But fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground; And what he says, and swears, regards no more Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar; But whirl'd away, to shun his hateful sight, Hid in the forest, and the shades of night: Then sought Sichæus through the shady grove, Who answer'd all her cares, and equal'd all her love. ADDISON AND STEELE.

N° 134. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1709-01.

Quis talia fando

Myrmidonum, Dolopumve, aut duri miles Ulyssei,

Temperet à lacrymis?

VIRG. Æn. ii. 6.

-Such woes

I

Not even the hardest of our foes could hear,
Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear.

DRYDEN.

Sheer Lane, February 15.

WAS awakened very early this morning by the distant crowing of a cock, which I thought had the finest pipe I ever heard. He seemed to me to strain his voice more than ordinary, as if he designed to make himself heard to the remotest corner of this lane. Having entertained myself a little before I went to bed with a discourse on the transmigration of men into other animals, I could not but fancy that this was the soul of some drowsy bellman who used to sleep upon his post, for which he was condemned to do penance in feathers, and distinguish the several watches of the night under the outside of a cock. While I was thinking of the condition of this poor bellman in masquerade, I heard a great knocking at my door, and was soon after told by my maid, that my worthy friend, the tall black gentleman, who frequents the coffee-houses hereabouts, desired to speak with me. This ancient Pythagorean, who has as much honesty as any man living, but good nature to an excess, brought me the following petition; which I am apt to believe he penned himself, the petitioner not

being able to express his mind on paper under his present form, however famous he might have been for writing verses when he was in his original shape.

TO ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, ESQUIRE,

CENSOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.

• The humble petition of Job Chanticleer, in behalf of himself and many other poor sufferers in the same condition.

" SHEWETH,

THAT whereas your petitioner is truly descended of the ancient family of the Chanticleers, at Cockhall, near Rumford in Essex, it has been his misfortune to come into the mercenary hand of a certain ill-disposed person, commonly called an higler, who, under the close confinement of a pannier, has conveyed him and many others up to London; but hearing by chance of your worship's great humanity towards Robin-red-breasts and Tom-tits', he is emboldened to beseech you to take his deplorable condition into your tender consideration, who otherwise must suffer, with many thousands more' as innocent as himself, that inhuman barbarity of a Shrove-Tuesday persecution. We humbly hope, that our courage and vigilance may plead for us on this occasion.

Your poor petitioner most earnestly implores your immediate protection from the insolence of the rabble, the batteries of cat-sticks, and a painful lingering death.

From my Coop in Clare-market, Feb. 13, 1709.

And your petitioner, &c.'

Upon delivery of this petition, the worthy gentleman, who presented it, told me the customs of many

See N° 112.

2

wise nations of the East, through which he had travelled; that nothing was more frequent than to see a dervise lay out a whole year's income in the redemption of larks or linnets, that had unhappily fallen into the hands of bird-catchers: that it was also usual to run between a dog and a bull to keep them from hurting one another, or to lose the use of a limb in parting a couple of furious mastiffs. He then insisted upon the ingratitude and disingenuity of treating in this manner a necessary and domestic animal, that has made the whole house keep good hours, and called up the cook maid for five years together. What would a Turk3 say,' continued he, 'should he hear, that it is a common entertainment in a nation, which pretends to be one of the most civilized of Europe, to tie an innocent animal to a stake, and put him to an ignominious death, who has perhaps been the guardian and proveditor of a poor family, as long as he was able to get eggs for his mistress?'

6

I thought what this gentleman said was very reasonable; and have often wondered, that we do not lay aside a custom, which makes us appear barbarous to nations much more rude and unpolished than ourselves. Some French writers have represented this diversion of the common people much to our disadvantage, and imputed it to natural fierceness and cruelty of temper; as they do some other entertainments peculiar to our nation: I mean those elegant diversions of bull-baiting and prize-fighting, with the like ingenious recreations of the bear-garden4. I wish I knew how to answer this reproach which is cast upon

→ More properly, disingenuousness.

3 The word Turk is used here to signify a barbarian.