war, while they encouraged the enemy with revolutionary songs that distracted the brains of a whole nation, they affected a strange and mysterious kind of neutrality as to the great questions of peace and war. They would sometimes talk on a battle or massacre in the most lively manner, as things they liked to dwell upon; but when peace seemed to be returning, they considered it rather as politicians than as poets, and when actually proclaimed, they had nothing to advance, that had not been advanced an hundred times on similar occasions.

And during the present crisis, it may be asked, where are their services? A few trifling favours they have bestowed; but what have they done in proportion to their eminent and wellknown powers on former occasions? I could wish that these questions were satisfactorily answered. Perhaps these ladies may plead that improper persons have applied to them; and this is so frequently the case, that it may stand as a perpetual apology. It is one, however, of the truth of which we cannot always be certain. They may, indeed, be teased by blockheads occasionally; but at a time like the present, when the efforts of all must constitute the safety of all, they surely might condescend to drop any private animo

sities, overlook petty affronts, and contribute something popular, spirited, and patriotic. Of this at least they may be assured, that their risk is that of existence; for if the barbarous fury of the enemy should prevail, the Muses would be banished the land, their seats razed from the foundation, and their works trod "under the hoofs of a swinish multitude.'

I have thus ventured a few remarks on the ambiguous conduct of those ladies, in consequence of the complaints sent to me by many Correspondents. I have only to add, that I have still on hand a certain quantity of contraevidence which ought not to be omitted, whatever credit may be due to it. I am informed that much which is reported of the coyness, shyness, deafness, and prudery of these ladies is absolutely unfounded; and that, upon a fair calculation, there are in this country not less than one thousand men, besides women and children, to whom these ladies are so complacent and obliging, so liberal and bounteous, that they have no reason to complain, and are, in their own opinion, their highly favoured worshipers: that this vast multitude never address them without receiving an immediate answer; and that reports of a contrary tendency are purposely manufactured by a set of persons

called criticks, who disperse them among the publick in monthly pamphlets, and by certain booksellers, who are notoriously interested. And lastly, adds a female Correspondent, with some indignation, "it is treating the MUSES like children, to suppose they do not come when called."

THE PROJECTOR. No 25.

"Maxima pars hominum morbo jactatur eodem."

HOR,

December 1803.

ALTHOUGH most of my predecessors have considered the imparting of SECRETS as a proof of folly, and the keeping of them as an act of friendship, I have been lately induced to consider this important subject in a quite different light; not as pertaining to any of the properties or operations of the mind, but as a peculiar species of disease affecting the body, particuJarly the organs of hearing and of speech, and

therefore to be cured, if cured at all, by medical rather than moral advice. Every view, indeed, that I can take, and every opinion I can collect, serve to persuade me that I have hit upon the true rationale of secrets, by considering them as wholly and solely within the province of our corporeal faculties. Why else, may I be permitted to ask, should we perceive that swelling and heaving, which are so conspicuous in a man's person when he is troubled with a secret which he wishes to discharge, but perhaps happens to have neither strength nor opportunity? How often is it said of a man who exhibits certain well-known symptoms: "Ah! he is labouring with a secret; see what pain he is in: well, he will get relief somehow by and by; how he struts and swells! what pangs! but he will soon be easy!" And why should a secret affect the organs of speech in the very extraordinary manner which is frequently observed, when the most stentorian voice is weakened down to a whisper, so low that few can hear it, and the words are obliged to be handed from one to another, like buckets at a fire? and when the patient, in his extreme agonies and danger of bursting, can scarcely articulate more than half words, particles, or syllables, which the

hearers are left to fill up? Is not this a mere bodily complaint? And if it be so, how much are the advocates of Materialism indebted to the Projector for having furnished them with a new proof of their doctrine, as valid surely as any they have been able to advance ?

Again; is not a secret, no matter of what kind, often accompanied with a fluttering at the heart, a restlessness, or what the physicians call anxietas circa præcordia, which, if the matter be long pent-up without any opportunity of a vent, produces in the one sex a number of convulsive winks, nods, and shrugs; and in the other a species of hysterics, ending in a profuse perspiration of whispers ? From these facts, which are proved every day in common experience, I am humbly of opinion that a secret too long kept may be considered as a disease, as far as it affects individuals: but there are other facts, equally obvious, which no less certainly demonstrate that it frequently appears as an epidemic, or plague, spreading over a whole district. In the country, a secret will often silence an entire parish, and cause the inhabitants to meet together at tea, or at church, or walk about from field to field and from lane to lane, without a word being spoken, except in a voice scarcely audible,