I shall here drop my little history for some time, which however I shall resume and drop again by starts, till my readers are tired of myself and my friends. After treating of the pathos of love, some general rules for the direction and controul of this passion might reasonably have been expected; and yet, perhaps, there is no concern of life in which rules are of less avail; for so silent and imperceptible are the attacks of love, that we are always half overcome before we are sensible of our danger. In this conflict, too, our reason will often prove an arrant deserter; and when we come to muster our forces, we find our principal dependance already gone over to the enemy. The only real security in circumstances so delicate and dangerous, consists in the general seasoning of a good education, and the early influence of virtuous models and examples. When, by long habits and due preparation, her judgement and taste are rectified, and a kind of poise given to her humours and affections, a young woman comes forth ready disciplined to encounter the trials of her sex; and the impertinence of flattery will provoke the pride of her understanding, as much as the sophistry of seduction will shock the rectitude of her principles.

In a future the female reader may expect paper some rules from Miranda, who has already shown her zeal in the cause of her sex, tending to establish some criteria by which true love may be distinguished from false love. At present there is only room for a very pretty little poetical contribution, the author of which, whoever he be, I shall be very glad to see in our filbert-walk in Northamptonshire. Those who admire the well-known poem beginning with "Come live with me, and be my love," will not despise the efforts of this kind contributor.

WINTER.

Stern Winter, though thy rugged reign
Chills the pale bosom of the plain,
And in deep sighs thy hollow blast
Tells me the happy hours are past
That saw meek Spring her blossoms rear,
And lead along the infant year;

Thy thickening glooms, and leafless tree,
Have charms for Emma and for me.

And though the light-wing'd breeze no more
Wafts the rich sweets of Summer's store,
Though Autumn's scene no more beguiles,
My cot is warm, and Emma smiles.
Then, Winter, come! thy storms and rain
Beat on this happy roof in vain:
The shivering blast, and leafless tree,
Have charms for Emma and for me.

Then what avail thy wind and storm,
That Nature's withering face deform,
If Fancy's brisk and sportive lay,
Awake to Pleasure's willing sway;
If the quick jest and lively song,
Bid the slow night move blithe along?
For then thy glooms, and leafless tree,
Have charms for Emma and for me.

Thus, when the bloom of youth is dead,
And Fancy's frolic hours are fled,
Tranquil, and free from passion's rage,
I'll meet the hoary frost of age.

Then, Winter, come! these blessings bring;
I sigh not for the gaudy Spring:

So shall thy glooms, and leafless tree,
Have charms for Emma and for me.

N° 13. SATURDAY, APRIL 21.

Vestra, inquit, munera vobis

Certa manent, pueri, et palmam movet ordine nemo.

Let no disputes arise:

Where fortune plac'd it, I adjudge the prize.

VIRGIL.

DRYDEN.

Ir is a greater difficulty than the world may imagine, to adjust the measure of my thoughts to the dimensions of my paper: on some subjects I must exert great pains to coax them out to the usual length; while, on others, they disdain their ordinary bounds, and demand room to range and expatiate. Mon esprit ne marche qu'à son heure, is, I remember, a phrase of a French writer, which very well expresses the unaccommodating character of the mind. I never could have imagined, before I entered upon my present career, that our thoughts could rise in this sort of mutiny, and create such an involuntary confusion in our minds, as to disappoint all our endea、 vours towards consistency.

"Man", (I have somewhere read) "is not the monarchy of reason, but the democracy of humours;" and I think, if we allow sufficiently for the subjugation of our minds to the influence of external circumstances, we shall not think the expression extravagant. There is, no doubt, a certain sort of organisation and predisposition necessary, before we can write happily on any subject; and whatever we force from ourselves, without consulting this internal guide, is for

the most part an unkindly sort of produce, that turns to but little account. This morning it was my design to touch upon the politics of a neighbouring country, had I not been detained at home by a kind of contrary wind in the channel of my thoughts.

The subject of biography, to which last Saturday's speculation was devoted, has still a claim upon me, as the limits of my paper excluded several observations it was my wish to subjoin: I must yield therefore to this arbitrary humour of the moment, and pursue, with the best grace I can, the subject to which it impels me. In my paper of Saturday, no notice was taken of the advantage to be derived from a comparative view of the great particulars in the lives of illustrious men; from which extension of plan, many new sources of pleasure and instruction are opened in this species of writing.

Every object of curiosity or study rises in value and importance, in proportion as it branches out into new connections and analogies. It is as true an observation in respect to a portion of knowledge, as a portion of matter, that the more points it touches, the more closely it settles, and the more indissolu ble it becomes.-Thus, nothing is more clear, both in science and morality, than that, in proportion as the mind is supplied with the means of comparing, its judgement is improved and strengthened, and its fund of knowledge enriched, not with loose and miscellaneous articles, but with compacted truths and solid axioms. A mind stored with this sort of intelligence, may be compared to the owner of a rich and united territory, where there is no in tervening slip of dubious land that can produce cause of anxiety to the owner, or of litigation to his neighbours.

It is the same with persons as it is with things: our judgements are never good, but when they are furnished from a great stock of materials, and a copious range of observations. Thus, to estimate and to feel the value of a great character, we must place it by the side of other great characters; and to know what we ought reasonably to expect from a virtuous man, in such or such a contingency, we must have a rule in our minds, drawn from the observation of many virtuous men, acting under similar circumstances.—It is on this principle that comparative biography may afford us great assistance in making up our judgements as to the separate characters held up to our view: Augustus Cæsar looks less by the side of the czar Peter, and the czar Peter himself turns a little pale at the approach of Alfred the Great; sir Walter Raleigh must strike his colours to sir Thomas More, and sir Thomas More is a head shorter when sir Philip Sidney makes his appearance.

It is by bringing in this manner those who have figured in each other's absence, face to face, and by placing them at the same time before us in the corresponding scenes of their lives, that we are enabled fairly to discriminate between them, and to proportion our esteem and admiration; whereas, in the successive and changing prospects which history presents, the hero that comes last into the field is almost sure of gaining the completest victory over us: still, however, the impressions which he leaves grow weaker and weaker, as the object becomes more remote; and the fickle lover is scarcely more inconstant amidst the various influence of contending beauty. There is no better remedy for this evil, than the mode of comparing together characters illustrious in history; and these comparisons in