The London Magazine, Or, Gentleman's Monthly Intelligencer

has been perform'd in former Ages,
without feeling an internal Satisfaction
not eafy to be defcrib'd. A-kin to
this, and in fome Refpects even fu-
perior to it, is that exquifite Delight
which refults from the Study of the
moft antient Writings. I never over- A
look thofe facred Repofituries of Anti-
quity but with the utmoft Reverence.
and Attention, with a Kind of ferious,
folemn Pleasure, like what I fome-
times find amongst the Tombs of the
renowned Dead in Westminster Cathe-
dral, when I give up an Afternoon
to contemplate the Vanity and Viciffi-
tude of mortal Things.

At fuch Times as one indulges thefe ReflettiOns, the Soul does, as it were, fhake off the Incumbrance of Matter, vigorously exerts its native Faculties, foars beyond the Reach of Care and Solicitude, and defpifes all that Pow er, Wealth, and Grandeur which the World fo earnestly contends for..

much of the Pleasure of Homer.

who read him only as a Poet: He "gives us an exact Image of antient

Life, their Manners, Caftoms, Laws

and Politicks. We fhould confider, that when we read him, we are reading the oldest Author in the Heathen World, we grow acquainted with Nations and People that are now no more, ftep back almost 3000 Years, and take a View of the Simplicity of thofe early Ages; behold Monarchs without their Guards, Princes tendBing their Flocks, and Princes drawing Water from the Springs. This is the fame authentick Picture we find in Scripture, to which the pure and noble Simplicity of his Expreffions, and the Excellence and Grandeur of his Sentiments bear likewife a very near Refemblance. His Sentiments, his Reflections, and the Precepts he delivers are fo excellent, that the Greeks call him the Father of all Virtue; and Horace de

clares him to be the greatest Master of Morality. It must be acknowledged, Dthat Homer's Theology is in many Cafes very grofs and imperfect (and, confidering the Time and Country he liv'd in, it was impoffible it fhould be otherwife;) but tho' his Gods are debafed fo low as to eat, and drink, and sleep, and be fubject to human Frail

The oldeft Writings in the World are thofe of Mafes; and next to them the Books of Homer. The first of these are, without Comparifon, the nobleft Treasure of Antiquity Time. has left us, and contain the best Ac count of the Creation, and of the firft Ages that can any where be met with; they are written in a Way so plain and fimple, but with fo much Force and Fire, that, even in the Tranflation, they retain a Grandeur and Sublimity which pierce the very Soul; as any Body may be convinc'd, who will but take the Pains to read attentively the History of Jofeph, which, without any Ornament of Language, will affect the Mind F more fenfioly, and his, perhaps, more of the true Pathetick thin any Piece that ever yet was written. "Bit my Bafinefs is now to fet down fome of the noble Sentiments of Antiquity which we meet with in that next most valuable antient Writer Homer: And thefe I fhall take from Mr. Pipe's mot excellent Translation.

They (fays our Transl.tr) lole

ties, he never fails to recommend our Duty to them by Prayers, Sacrifices, Luftrations, and all the Rites that were in thofe Ages elteemed religious, to the Shame of many of the prefent Generation, who are bleft with a much clearer Knowledge of the Supreme Being, and yet treat him without the leaft Respect.

To begin with his Representation of Jupiter, or the Almighty and fupreme Deity; (for notwithstanding the feveral Gods that Homer mentions, he plainly thews his Belief of One that Gis omnipotent, and infinitely above them all, whom he constantly introduces with a Majesty and Superiority becoming the Great Ruler of the Uai

verje ;)

Th'affrighted bills from their foundations nod,
And blaze beneath the lightnings of the god.
IL. 17. V. 670.

This bears a near Refemblance to
Mofes's Defcription of the Lord Je-
hovah defcending upon Mount Sinai,
Exod. xix. 16, 17, 18. We shall see
next, with what Grandeur he intro-
duces the Almighty speaking:

The fire of gods bis arful filence broke;
The beav'ns attentive trembled as be spoke.
IL. 8. v. 5.

And again:

He spoke, and awful bends his fable brows;
Shakes bis ambrofial curls, and gives thened:
The flamp of fate, and fanction of the god.
High beav'n with trembling the dread fignal
tock,

And all Olympus to the center book.
IL. I. v. 683.

Nothing but the facredWritingscan
exceed the Grandeur and Magnificence
of these Descriptions, which exprefs
the Majefty and Omnipotence of the
Supreme Being in a Manner as fub-
D lime as the Faculties of Man feem
without
capable of conceiving,
Heaven's more immediate Affistance.

We receiv'd the following remarkable Account from Caton, 3 Miles from
Lancafter.

THOMAS Walker, a Boy about fix Years of Age (living at Caton) being fleeping near the
Fire, a Stone about half a hundred Weight fell from the Top of the Chimney upon the Side of his
Head, and fractur'd bis Scull in a moft terrible Manner. The poor Boy lay as dead for feveral Hours;
but bis Parents being perfuaded to carry bim to Dr. Bracken of Lancaster, they immediately fol-
low'd the Advice. The Doctor made a proper Incifion, in order to clear the Scull from the Pericranium,
and difcover the Fracture; when be found the Parietal Bone fractur'd in twenty Pieces (fome as large
as a twelve-perny Piece) with their fharp Points flicking down into the Brain, the Dura and Pia
Mater being both deftroy'd, and a confiderable Effufion of Blood from the Veffels of the Brain. These
Benes were remov'd with great Care and Dexterity; for as their Points went fe far into the Brain,
the Nicety confifted in removing them fo, that the Inftruments might not pass too far into the Subftance of
the Brain, and confequently deftroy the Patient. In fine, the Boy recovered beyond Expectation,
and is now entirely well, tho' three Months fince be receiv'd the Hurt: Therefore the faid Dr. Bracken
inferts this for the Information of those who are bigotted to an Opinion, That no Perfon can recover if
the Pia Mater and Subftance of the Brain be wounded. Indeed meft of cur Authors, even Wiseman,
that diligent Obferver and Recorder of Cafes, was of Opinion, that if the Brain was wounded,
the Patient might perhaps live till that Lobe or particular Part of the Brain was retted or con-
fumed away, and no longer : In this Cafe the Dura and Pia Mater were both much shattered, and at
leaft two Drachms of the Subftance of the Brain came away during the Operation, befides what was
afterwards caft cut at the Wound in Times of Dreffing (which was confiderable) and all this without
any very bad Symptoms. Several credible Perfons were Eye-Witnesses to the Truth of this Relation.
Jan. 14, 1732,

Part

וי

Part of the first Book of Oppian's Cynegeticks, tranflated.

LET mettled horfes to the chafe be brought, Not mares: for they're inferior found of foot,

O'er toiliome lawns to ftretch the lengthen'd courfe;

And you'll with pain hold in their rage of Horse. Whence caution ftill the females thence re

moves,

Left on the fret, and neighing out their loves,
Their noify paflion put the fawns to flight,
Swift roes, and hares by nature chill'd to fright.
Various the tribes of horfe. The brutal
ftrains

Are numerous as those whom bread fuftains.
And now their nobleft families I'll tell,
And which of all the courfer-kind excel.
The Tyrrbene, Cretan, and Sicilian breed,
Th' Achaian, Maffic, Cappadocian steed,
Theffalian, Scythian, Moor, Magnesian race,
Armenian, Lybian, and the line of Thrace,
Th' Ionian, and Arabian borfe. But beft,
The horse, whom jockeys prize above the reft,
Is he, whofe fhape's with thefe perfections
crown'd;

Light let him fhift his limbs, and rid the ground.

Above his neck his head fhould fomething rife,
With looks erect; nor little be his fize.
His chin fhou'd to his neck below incline,
And his large front with fprightly vigour
Thine.

Let waving locks a-down his foretop fly;
And brills imbrown'd fhou'd edge his broad

bright eye.

Wide noftrils, ample mouth, and little ears: Arch'd be his neck, and fledg'd with floating hairs,

Like a plum'd helmet when it nods its creft: Broad-back'd, long-bodied, fpacious be his

cheft.

Let his plump back be furrow'd with his chine,
And run his tail out in a bushy line.
Clean be his thighs, and fine wy; but below,
Strait, long, and fpare, the well-turn'd shank
fhou'd fhow.

Lean be his legs, and nimble as the ftag's,
With whom in speed the sweeping tempest flags.
Firm let him tread, and juft, marching along
Upon a well-grown, folid hoof, and strong.
Such be the horfe to bear me to the field,
That fhares the fport, with fire and pride im-
pell'd.

Th' Achaian fuch, th' Armenian, Tyrrbene fteed,

And Cappadocians which by Taurus feed.

What's ftrange I've feen, this Cappadocian kind,

Their colt's-tooth not yet caft, nor milk refign'd,

At first are flaggy, and no mettle show
But ftill grow fleeter, older as they grow.
These harness for the fierce fatigues of fight,
And kindled rage of beafts: for moft their
might,

Boldly to face and break th' embattled hoft,
And in the fylvan wars sustain the most.

See, with what joy the war-horse hears the
found

Of thrilling trumpets rouzing war around!
True to his rank, he fearlefs meets the glare
Of flashing arms, and dreadful blaze of war;
He hears the word, will ev'ry rule obey,
Knows when to urge the onfet, when to stay.
And oft to ftorm a tow'r he moves along,
Beneath a fhed of fhields compacted strong,
With order'd pace; the warriors in their skreen
Secure, attempt the town they wish to win.
A plain of fhields, of fev'n bull-hides compos'd,
Rear'd high, by thick brass bosses firmly clos'd,
Half-meets and dafhes back the folar beams,
While doubly fierce the blaze reverted gleams.

But wondrous nature does to steeds impart A foften'd fenfe, and more impaffion'd heart. They fee, they know their mafter with delight,

Neighing with love, they hail their warrior knight;

And mourn a loft companion in the fight. The horse in fight has spoke in human founds, Broke nature's bands, and over-leap'd her bounds.

The Macedonian monarch's martial horse, Bucephalus, arm'd hofts oppos'd wou'd force. The horse o'er corn unbent has ply'd his feet, And o'er the waves, yet scarce his hoofs were wet. Another neighing, with his groom to guide, Rais'd Perfia's monarch to his kingly pride. Perfeus, thus mounted, o'er the clouds cou'd ride.

And, hard to faith! they nature fo regard, To thun all ways of love which she has barr'd, Nor will be forc'd polluted luft to prove, So fine their fenfe of pure permitted love. A wealthy lord, of generous fteeds once bred A noble race, in verdant paftures fed: At laft a murrain swept away the whole, Save only two; a mother and her foal. This grown adult, he wickedly essays To make the dam admit her fon's embrace. Whom finding to refufe fuch lawless love, With dire device a ftratagem he'd prove, In hope his breed of racers to restore. With other skins, he cloths their bodies o'er, And fmears with fragrant oils of pandar pow'r.

Did he effect, ye pow'rs! the fin defign'd?
He did, in nature's fpite. The racer-kind
Abhor all inceft. Such the bed of old
That with fuch woes did Oedipus infold.
But thefe, unmask'd, the hateful deed defcry'd,
And louting with amaze, each other ey'd.
She glouts her fon, son cancell'd by his deed
His mother he, unmother'd by her feed.

Sad,

Prologue to Phormio, as it was acted

by the Gentlemen educated at Cadington-School in Hertfordshire.

TO night, from motives worthy your ap-
plaufe,

In infant pageantry our curtain draws,
To entertain the critic's ear with fenfe,
The gay with wit; but wit at none's expence:
With wit, which still unfoil'd and bright ap-
pears,

After the teft of near two thousand years:
Unlike the ftuff unhappy moderns write,
Which lives with much ado - just one third
night.

We, therefore, juftly cautious left we stray,
Contented chufe the cld, plain, beaten way:
We leave to Rich unenvy'd his machines,
His pleafing dreffes, and pathetick scenes.
There our delights from contradiction spring,
A buskin'd cobler, or a ragged king:
While dancing ftatues, and while † barns
ön fire,

Command applaufe, and bid the world admire.
Defpifing fuch embellishments as these,
Be ours the task to chufe fome finish'd piece,
Drawn from the fruitful ftores of Rome or
Greece.

Such is to night our fmall, but learned treat,
Jn which the flow'rs of both uniting meet:
And what the Greek with manly vigour writ,
The polish'd Roman foften'd into wit.
Terence! whofe ftile, and unaffected ease,
Whofe plot and manners all confpire to please,
In him (long ftrangers) fenfe and wit unite:
Juft is your mirth, and manly your delight:
Since whate'er pleasures from our ftage may
flow,

Not to your eyes, but to your ears you owe.

To play what once fo great an author
wrought,

We bring young actors, artless, and untaught:
Then whatfoever flender faults you view,
Remember ftill indulgence is our due.
Expect not here a Wilks, to grace our stage,
Or Booth infpir'd with true dramatic rage:

* In Cephalus and Procris. + In Dr. Fauftus.
VOL. II.

And when our ladies on the ftage appear,
Think not to find a fecond Oldfield here:
Our boy, transform'd, but ill at grace eflays,
With hoop encumber'd, and confin'd in stays.

Difpenfe with thefe, and free us from the fear
Of the wit's cenfure, and the coxcomb's fneer:
For fuch to wit's our author's just pretence,
As claims applaufe from ev'ry man of fenfe.
Then kindly blind to whate'er faults we
make,

Approve the actors for the poet's fake.

An Ode for New-Year's-Day, by
Colley Cibber, Efq; Poet Laureat.

Rec.SICILIAN fifters, tuneful nine,

Alift our lay, with founds divine,
Melodious, foft, and fweetly gay,
Sweet as the foul oblig'a would pay,
To glorious George and Caroline.
Air. Awake the grateful fong,

Inspire the warbling string,
Let with the heart the tongue

To Albion's monarch fing;
Sing, fing to George's gentle way,
And joy, for joys receiv'd, repay.
Rec. May every morn that gilds the skies,
Like this, be thankful for the paft;

And funs on annual funs arife,
As greatly glorious as the laft.
Air. Europe now of bleeding wounds,

Sadly fhall no more complain:
George the jars of jealous crowns,

Heals with Halcyon days again:
Faction, fear, and falfe furmile,

Suddenly hall fink to reft,
Loth howe'er to join our joys,
Undeferving fhall be bleft.

Rec. Where, Britons, fhall thy froward fons
have eafe,

If days, like thine, are fcant of happiness?
If not enjoy'd in godlike George's reign,
The hand of heav'n were bountiful in vain.
Air. As freedom the jewel of life is,

'Twas bought by old battle array;
But now with our monarch, the ftrife is,
Who beft fhall pretect or obey.
While hinds for their plenty show sadness,
They praife in reproaching their state.
Ye murmurers,
tell us,
what madness
Would want out of plenty create?
Rec. Ah! fwains, with grateful eyes regard
the throne,

That builds on your profperity its own:
In vocal joy your golden days confess,
Nor flight, becaufe fecure, your happiness.
Chor. May every morn that gilds the skies,

Like this, be thankful for the pait;
And funs on annual funs arife,
As greatly glorious as the laft.

On the City of Venice. WHEN Neptune in the fea bright Venice faw,

And all the ocean that obey'd her law ;
Go, Jove, he cry'd, and boast your Rome to me,
Prefer the yellow Tiber to the Sea;

Then view both cities, and you'll ftrait combine,

That that's a mortal, this a work divine.

An Epitaph on the late Mrs. Oldfield.

HERE Oldfield lies; enrolled be her name,

Amidst the pouts of immortal fame! The varicus numbers British bards have fung, Own the perfuafions of her air and tongue: The works they wrote eternity did give; She bid thofe works that eterniz'd them live: In her you'd fee the honeft virtuous wife, In her the wanton harlot drawn to life; Her genius diff'rent characters confeft, The world unfettled which fhe acted beft: Few were her equals, none did her excel 3 For nature could alone act all fo well:

Whene'er the tragick mufe, with painful
throws,

Had call'd her forth to fympathize with woes,
Her mien furprizing, ftedfait was her look,
She mov'd majeftick ev'ry step she took;
Her feigned tears, her fighs, her borrow'd smart,
Seem'd real forrow that had touch'd her heart;
Then the whole foul with gen'rous paffion
glow'd,

And hearts lay bleeding while her eyes o'erflow'd.

In comick scenes her nicer judgment such, The greatest prins fhe took was not too much; All life the fpake, did artfully allow

Thofe fmiles and humours which were juft

enow.

Silent we ftand, unfix'd from whence to praise, In picature tweetly loft ten thousand ways.

To bis Dove, that he wou'd carry a
Letter to bis Miftrefs.

FAIREST of birds, my ever faithful dove,
Confcious of thy Mafter's love;
You, who on the table ftand,
Pleas'd to be fed from out my hand;
You who always choose to fip,
Wine or water from my lip;
You, who ever when I fang,
On my harp wou'd flutt'ring hang;
You, who'rt often us'd to bear
My fofteft wishes to the fair,
And lighting on her downy breaft,
(Who wou'd not envy thee that happy place of
rest?)

Do fondly drop the am'rous note,

Which 1, alafs! with tears had wrote;

To fhow thy oft-experienc'd skill once

more,

This billet bear to her whom I adore ;
Go, faithful dove, fly faft; my heart is fled
before.

He's gone.--how fwift he cut the yielding air!
By this time hov'ring o'er the fair;
So flutters my poor reftless heart,
Since it felt love's pow'rful dart ;
For like a fhip 'twill never reft,
Till in the haven of her breast.
Oh! would the deign to smile on me!
Yet fmile not at my mifery;
But yield the treasure of her charms,
And open her relentless arms,

To let the tired trav❜ller in,

Who from his better half fo long has abfent been;

How wou'd I mend my heavy pace,

To reft myself in her embrace:
How wou'd my heart forget all former care,
And like my dove, defcending from the air,
Shut clofe his weary wings, and gladly fettle
there!

Then in the midst of joys and mutual love,
I'd think on thee my faithful dove:
Then wou'd I fearch the woods around,
If any turtle might be found,
Sitting on fome leafless tree,
Moaning for a mate like thee.
Here fhou'dft thou find from me at laft,
The sweet reward of labours paft;
Thus wou'd I do with joy for thee,
What thou haft ftrove to do for me:
The choir of birds fhou'd Hymen fing,
Till all the neighb'ring woods with wanton
echoes ring.

In Love both linked clofer far,

Than those that fly in Venus' car, I'd place ye on my nuptial canopy; There fhou'd ye billing ftand, that all might fee

The happy pair,an emblem of my love and me.

To CHLOE.

WHEN, Chloe, I your charms furvey,

A fudden fear does feize me;
Fain I wou'd, but dare not fay

I love, left I difplease ye.
Ah! cruel! you can guess my pain,

When trembling I'm before ye;
You know I'm red, and pale again,
Because that I adore ye.

When at a diftance, I can make

Such fpeeches as wou'd charm ye;
But when I am refolv'd to fpeak,

Your fcornful looks difarm me.
Since then my falt'ring tongue denies
To tell the love I bear ye;
Be kind. and read it in my eyes,
And the confufion fpare me.

Wou'

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