did she ever grow into a toast! For their parts, they had eyes as well as the men, but could not discover where her beauties lay. Polydore, upon hearing this, flew immediately home, and told Melissa with the utmost transport, that he was now fully convinced how numberless were her charms, since her own sex would not allow her any.

Button's Coffee-house.

MR. IRONSIDE, 'I HAVE observed that this day you make mention of Will's coffee-house, as a place where people are too polite to hold a man in discourse by the button 2. Every body knows your honour frequents this house; therefore they will take an advantage against me, and say, if my company was as civil as that at Will's, you would do so therefore pray your honour do not be afraid of doing me justice, because people would think it may be a conceit below you on this occasion to name the name of

Your humble servant,

DANIEL BUTTON 3."

The young poets are in the back room, and take their places as you directed.'

STEELE.

2 See N° 84.

Johnson says (Lives of the most Eminent English Poets, vol. ii. p. 110. 8vo edit. 1801,) "Button had been a servant in the countess of Warwick's family, who, under the patronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Russel-street, about two doors from Covent-garden. Here it was that the wits of that time used to assemble. It is said, when Addison had suffered any vexation from the countess, he withdrew the company from Button's house."

N° 86. FRIDAY, JUNE 19, 1713.

-Cui mens divinior, atque os

Magna sonaturum

HOR. 1. Sat. iv. 43.

-who writes

With fancy high, and bold and daring flights.

SIR,

CREECH.

TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ.

Oxford', June 16, 1713. THE classical writers, according to your advice, are by no means neglected by me, while I pursue my studies in divinity. I am persuaded that they are fountains of good sense and eloquence; and that it is absolutely necessary for a young mind to form itself upon such models. For by a careful study of their style and manner, we shall at least avoid those faults into which a youthful imagination is apt to hurry us, such as luxuriance of fancy, licentiousness of style, redundancy of thought, and false ornaments. As I have been flattered by my friends, that I have some genius for poetry, I sometimes turn my thoughts that way: and with pleasure reflect, that I have got over that childish part of life, which delights in points and turns of wit; and that I can take a manly and rational satisfaction in that which is called painting in poetry. Whether it be, that in these copyings of nature, the object is placed in such lights and circumstances as

'Among Steele's Oxford correspondents and auxiliaries were, William Cary of Oriel College, M. A. Dr. Edward Young, of Corpus Christi, Richard Parker, M. A. of Merton, and Deane Bartelett, M. A. of the same college.

strike the fancy agreeably; or whether we are surprised to find objects that are absent, placed before our eyes; or, whether it be our admiration of the author's art and dexterity; or, whether we amuse ourselves with comparing the picture and the original; or rather (which is most probable) because all these reasons concur to affect us; we are wonderfully charmed with these drawings after the life, this magic that raises apparitions in the fancy.

Landskips, or still-life, work much less upon us, than representations of the postures or passions of living creatures. Again, those passions or postures strike us more or less in proportion to the ease or violence of their motions. An horse grazing moves us less than one stretching in a race, and a racer less than one in the fury of a battle. It is very difficult, I believe, to express violent motions which are fleeting and transitory, either in colours, or words. In poetry it requires great spirit in thought, and energy in style; which we find more of in the eastern poetry, than in either the Greek or Roman. The great Creator, who accommodated himself to those he vouchsafed to speak to, hath put into the mouth of his prophets such sublime sentiments and exalted language, as must abash the pride and wit of man. In the book of Job, the most ancient poem in the world, we have such paintings and descriptions as I have spoken of, in great variety. I shall at present make some remarks on the celebrated description of the horse in that holy book, and compare it with those drawn by Homer and Virgil.

Homer hath the following similitude of an horse twice over in the Iliad, which Virgil hath copied from him; at least he hath deviated less from Homer, than Mr. Dryden hath from him :

"Freed from his keepers, thus with broken reins
The wanton courser prances o'er the plains;
Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds,
And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds;
Or seeks his watering in the well-known flood,
To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood:
He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain,
And o'er his shoulders flows his waving mane;
He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high,
Before his ample chest the foaming waters fly."

Virgil's description is much fuller than the foregoing, which, as I said, is only a simile; whereas Virgil professes to treat of the nature of the horse. It is thus admirably translated:

"The fiery courser, when he hears from far
The sprightly trumpets, and the shouts of war,
Pricks up his ears, and trembling with delight,
Shifts pace, and paws; and hopes the promis'd fight.
On his right shoulder his thick mane reclin'd,
Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind.
His horny hoofs are jetty black and round;
His chin is double; starting, with a bound
He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground.
Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow;
He bears his rider headlong on the foe.”

Now follows that in the book of Job; which under all the disadvantages of having been written in a language little understood; of being expressed in phrases peculiar to a part of the world whose manner of thinking and speaking seems to us very uncouth; and, above all, of appearing in a prose translation; is nevertheless so transcendently above the heathen descriptions, that hereby we may perceive how faint and languid the images are, which are

formed by mortal authors, when compared with that which is figured as it were, just as it appears in the eye of the Creator. God, speaking to Job, asks him,

"Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength. He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith amongst the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off; the thunder of the captains, and the shouting."

'Here are all the great and sprightly images, that thought can form of this generous beast, expressed in such force and vigour of style, as would have given the great wits of antiquity new laws for the sublime, had they been acquainted with these writings. I cannot but particularly observe, that whereas the classical poets chiefly endeavour to paint the outward figure, lineaments, and motions; the sacred poet makes all the beauties to flow from an inward principle in the creature he describes, and thereby gives great spirit and vivacity to his description. The following phrases and circumstances seem singularly remarkable:

"Hast thou clothed, his neck with thunder?" Homer and Virgil mention nothing about the neck of the horse, but his mane. The sacred author, by the bold figure of thunder, not only expresses the shaking of that remarkable beauty in the horse, and