The Spectator, Volume 2. · Chapter 38Dedication of the Fifth Volume of The Spectator (4)
This chapter is not translated yet. You are reading the original.
Æsculapius
would hardly be more valuable than one made in the Extravagance of the Fashion.
Besides, we are not certain that the Ladies would not come into the Mode, when they take the Air on Horse-back. They already appear in Hats and Feathers, Coats and Perriwigs; and I see no reason why we should not suppose that they would have their Riding-Beards on the same Occasion.
I may give the Moral of this Discourse, in another Paper,
X.
Minus aptus acutis Naribus horum hominum Hor. Dear Short-Face, 'In your Speculation of Wednesday last, you have given us some Account of that worthy Society of Brutes the Mohocks; wherein you have particularly specify'd the ingenious Performance of the Lion-Tippers, the Dancing-Masters, and the Tumblers: But as you acknowledge you had not then a perfect History of the whole Club, you might very easily omit one of the most notable Species of it, the Sweaters, which may be reckon'd a sort of Dancing-Masters too. It is it seems the Custom for half a dozen, or more, of these well-dispos'd Savages, as soon as they have inclos'd the Person upon whom they design the Favour of a Sweat, to whip out their Swords, and holding them parallel to the Horizon, they describe a sort of Magick Circle round about him with the Points. As soon as this Piece of Conjuration is perform'd, and the Patient without doubt already beginning to wax warm, to forward the Operation, that Member of the Circle towards whom he is so rude as to turn his Back first, runs his Sword directly into that Part of the Patient wherein School-boys are punished; and, as it is very natural to imagine this will soon make him tack about to some other Point, every Gentleman does himself the same Justice as often as he receives the Affront. After this Jig has gone two or three times round, and the Patient is thought to have sweat sufficiently, he is very handsomly rubb'd down by some Attendants, who carry with them Instruments for that purpose, and so discharged. This Relation I had from a Friend of mine, who has lately been under this Discipline. He tells me he had the Honour to dance before the Emperor himself, not without the Applause and Acclamations both of his Imperial Majesty, and the whole Ring; tho' I dare say, neither I or any of his Acquaintance ever dreamt he would have merited any Reputation by his Activity. 'I can assure you, Mr. SPEC, I was very near being qualify'd to have given you a faithful and painful Account of this walking Bagnio, if I may so call it, my self: For going the other night along Fleet-street, and having, out of curiosity, just enter'd into Discourse with a wandring Female who was travelling the same Way, a couple of Fellows advanced towards us, drew their Swords, and cry'd out to each other, A Sweat! a Sweat! Whereupon suspecting they were some of the Ringleaders of the Bagnio, I also drew my Sword, and demanded a Parly; but finding none would be granted me, and perceiving others behind them filing off with great diligence to take me in Flank, I began to sweat for fear of being forced to it: but very luckily betaking my self to a Pair of Heels, which I had good Reason to believe would do me justice, I instantly got possession of a very snug Corner in a neighbouring Alley that lay in my Rear; which Post I maintain'd for above half an hour with great Firmness and Resolution, tho' not letting this Success so far overcome me, as to make me unmindful of the Circumspection that was necessary to be observ'd upon my advancing again towards the Street; by which Prudence and good Management I made a handsome and orderly Retreat, having suffer'd no other Damage in this Action than the Loss of my Baggage, and the Dislocation of one of my Shoe-heels, which last I am just now inform'd is in a fair way of Recovery. These Sweaters, by what I can learn from my Friend, and by as near a View as I was able to take of them myself, seem to me to have at present but a rude kind of Discipline amongst them. It is probable, if you would take a little Pains with them, they might be brought into better order. But I'll leave this to your own Discretion; and will only add, that if you think it worth while to insert this by way of Caution to those who have a mind to preserve their Skins whole from this sort of Cupping, and tell them at the same time the Hazard of treating with Night-Walkers, you will perhaps oblige others, as well as Your very humble Servant, Jack Lightfoot. 'P. S. My Friend will have me acquaint you, That though he would not willingly detract from the Merit of that extra-ordinary Strokes-Man Mr. Sprightly, yet it is his real Opinion, that some of those Fellows, who are employ'd as Rubbers to this new-fashioned Bagnio, have struck as bold Strokes as ever he did in his Life. 'I had sent this four and twenty Hours sooner, if I had not had the Misfortune of being in a great doubt about the Orthography of the word Bagnio. I consulted several Dictionaries, but found no relief; at last having recourse both to the Bagnio in Newgate-street, and to that in Chancery lane, and finding the original Manuscripts upon the Sign-posts of each to agree literally with my own Spelling, I returned home, full of Satisfaction, in order to dispatch this Epistle.' Mr. Spectator, As you have taken most of the Circumstances of human Life into your Consideration, we, the under-written, thought it not improper for us also to represent to you our Condition. We are three Ladies who live in the Country, and the greatest Improvements we make is by reading. We have taken a small Journal of our Lives, and find it extremely opposite to your last Tuesday's Speculation. We rise by seven, and pass the beginning of each Day in Devotion, and looking into those Affairs that fall within the Occurrences of a retired Life; in the Afternoon we sometimes enjoy the Company of some Friend or Neighbour, or else work or read; at Night we retire to our Chambers, and take Leave of each other for the whole Night at Ten of Clock. We take particular Care never to be sick of a Sunday. Mr. Spectator, We are all very good Maids, but are ambitious of Characters which we think more laudable, that of being very good Wives. If any of your Correspondents enquire for a Spouse for an honest Country Gentleman, whose Estate is not dipped, and wants a Wife that can save half his Revenue, and yet make a better Figure than any of his Neighbours of the same Estate, with finer bred Women, you shall have further notice from, Sir, Your courteous Readers, Martha Busie. Deborah Thrifty. Alice Early1.
Footnote 1:
To this number there is added after a repeated advertisement of the
Lucubrations of Isaac Bickerstaff
in 4 vols. 8vo, a repetition in Italic type of the advertisement of the Boarding School on Mile-end Green (ending at the words
'render them accomplish'd
') to which a conspicuous place was given, with original additions by Steele, in
—vocat in Certamina Divos. Virg.
We are now entering upon the Sixth Book of
Paradise Lost
, in which the Poet describes the Battel of Angels; having raised his Reader's Expectation, and prepared him for it by several Passages in the preceding Books. I omitted quoting these Passages in my Observations on the former Books, having purposely reserved them for the opening of this, the Subject of which gave occasion to them. The Author's Imagination was so inflam'd with this great Scene of Action, that wherever he speaks of it, he rises, if possible, above himself. Thus where he mentions
Satan
in the Beginning of his Poem:
—Him the Almighty Power Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless Perdition, there to dwell In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire, Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to Arms.
We have likewise several noble Hints of it in the Infernal Conference.
O Prince! O Chief of many throned Powers, That led th' imbattel'd Seraphim to War, Too well I see and rue the dire Event, That with sad Overthrow and foul Defeat Hath lost us Heav'n, and all this mighty Host In horrible Destruction laid thus low. But see I the angry Victor has recalled His Ministers of Vengeance and Pursuit, Back to the Gates of Heav'n: The sulphurous Hail Shot after us in Storm, overblown, hath laid The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice Of Heaven receiv'd us falling: and the Thunder, Winged with red Lightning and impetuous Rage, Perhaps hath spent his Shafts, and ceases now To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
There are several other very sublime Images on the same Subject in the First Book, as also in the Second.
What when we fled amain, pursued and strook With Heav'n's afflicting Thunder, and besought The Deep to shelter us; this Hell then seem'd A Refuge from those Wounds—
In short, the Poet never mentions anything of this Battel but in such Images of Greatness and Terror as are suitable to the Subject. Among several others I cannot forbear quoting that Passage, where the Power, who is described as presiding over the Chaos, speaks in the Third Book.
Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old With faultring Speech, and Visage incompos'd, Answer'd, I know thee, Stranger, who thou art, That mighty leading Angel, who of late Made Head against Heaven's King, tho' overthrown. I saw and heard, for such a numerous Host Fled not in silence through the frighted Deep With Ruin upon Ruin, Rout on Rout, Confusion worse confounded; and Heav'n's Gates Pour'd out by Millions her victorious Bands Pursuing—
It requir'd great Pregnancy of Invention, and Strength of Imagination, to fill this Battel with such Circumstances as should raise and astonish the Mind of the Reader; and at the same time an Exactness of Judgment, to avoid every thing that might appear light or trivial. Those who look into
Homer
, are surprized to find his Battels still rising one above another, and improving in Horrour, to the Conclusion of the
Iliad
.
Milton's
Fight of Angels is wrought up with the same Beauty. It is usher'd in with such Signs of Wrath as are suitable to Omnipotence incensed. The first Engagement is carry'd on under a Cope of Fire, occasion'd by the Flights of innumerable burning Darts and Arrows, which are discharged from either Host. The second Onset is still more terrible, as it is filled with those artificial Thunders, which seem to make the Victory doubtful, and produce a kind of Consternation even in the good Angels. This is follow'd by the tearing up of Mountains and Promontories; till, in the last place, the
Messiah
comes forth in the Fulness of Majesty and Terror, The Pomp of his Appearance amidst the Roarings of his Thunders, the Flashes of his Lightnings, and the Noise of his Chariot-Wheels, is described with the utmost Flights of Human Imagination.
There is nothing in the first and last Day's Engagement which does not appear natural, and agreeable enough to the Ideas most Readers would conceive of a Fight between two Armies of Angels.
The second Day's Engagement is apt to startle an Imagination, which has not been raised and qualify'd for such a Description, by the reading of the ancient Poets, and of
Homer
in particular. It was certainly a very bold Thought in our Author, to ascribe the first Use of Artillery to the Rebel Angels. But as such a pernicious Invention may be well supposed to have proceeded from such Authors, so it entered very properly into the Thoughts of that Being, who is all along describ'd as aspiring to the Majesty of his Maker. Such Engines were the only Instruments he could have made use of to imitate those Thunders, that in all Poetry, both sacred and profane, are represented as the Arms of the Almighty. The tearing up the Hills, was not altogether so daring a Thought as the former. We are, in some measure, prepared for such an Incident by the Description of the Giants' War, which we meet with among the Ancient Poets. What
still
made this Circumstance the more proper for the Poet's Use, is the Opinion of many learned Men, that the Fable of the Giants' War, which makes so great a noise in Antiquity,
and gave birth to the sublimest Description in Hesiod's Works was
an Allegory founded upon this very Tradition of a Fight between the good and bad Angels.
It may, perhaps, be worth while to consider with what Judgment Milton, in this Narration, has avoided every thing that is mean and trivial in the Descriptions of the
Latin
and
Greek
Poets; and at the same time improved every great Hint which he met with in their Works upon this Subject.
Homer
in that Passage, which
Longinus
has celebrated for its Sublimeness, and which
Virgil
and
Ovid
have copy'd after him, tells us, that the Giants threw
Ossa
upon
Olympus
, and
Pelion
upon
Ossa
. He adds an Epithet to
Pelion
which very much swells the Idea, by bringing up to the Reader's Imagination all the Woods that grew upon it. There is further a great Beauty in his singling out by Name these three remarkable Mountains, so well known to the
Greeks
. This last is such a Beauty as the Scene of
Milton's
War could not possibly furnish him with.
Claudian
, in his Fragment upon the Giants' War, has given full scope to that Wildness of Imagination which was natural to him. He tells us, that the Giants tore up whole Islands by the Roots, and threw them at the Gods. He describes one of them in particular taking up
Lemnos
in his Arms, and whirling it to the Skies, with all
Vulcan's Shop
in the midst of it. Another tears up
Mount Ida
, with the
River Enipeus
, which ran down the Sides of it; but the Poet, not content to describe him with this Mountain upon his Shoulders, tells us that the River flow'd down his Back, as he held it up in that Posture. It is visible to every judicious Reader, that such Ideas savour more of Burlesque, than of the Sublime. They proceed from a Wantonness of Imagination, and rather divert the Mind than astonish it.
Milton
has taken every thing that is sublime in these several Passages, and composes out of them the following great Image.
From their Foundations loos'ning to and fro, They pluck'd the seated Hills, with all their Land, Rocks, Waters, Woods; and by the shaggy Tops Up-lifting bore them in their Hands—
We have the full Majesty of
Homer
in this short Description, improv'd by the Imagination of
Claudian
, without its Puerilities. I need not point out the Description of the fallen Angels seeing the Promontories hanging over their Heads in such a dreadful manner, with the other numberless Beauties in this Book, which are so conspicuous, that they cannot escape the Notice of the most ordinary Reader.
There are indeed so many wonderful Strokes of Poetry in this Book, and such a variety of Sublime Ideas, that it would have been impossible to have given them a place within the bounds of this Paper. Besides that, I find it in a great measure done to my hand at the End of my
Lord Roscommon's Essay on Translated Poetry
. I shall refer my Reader thither for some of the Master Strokes in the Sixth Book of
Paradise Lost
, tho' at the same time there are many others which that noble Author has not taken notice of.
Milton
, notwithstanding the sublime Genius he was Master of, has in this Book drawn to his Assistance all the Helps he could meet with among the Ancient Poets.
The
Sword of
Michael
, which makes so great
a
havock among the bad Angels, was given him, we are told, out of the Armory of God.
—But the Sword Of Michael from the Armory of God Was given him tempered so, that neither keen Nor solid might resist that Edge: It met The Sword of Satan, with steep Force to smite Descending, and in half cut sheer—
This Passage is a Copy of that in
Virgil
, wherein the Poet tells us, that the Sword of
Æneas
, which was given him by a Deity, broke into Pieces the Sword of
Turnus
, which came from a mortal Forge. As the Moral in this Place is divine, so by the way we may observe, that the bestowing on a Man who is favoured by Heaven such an allegorical Weapon, is very conformable to the old
Eastern
way of Thinking. Not only Homer has made use of it, but we find the
Jewish
Hero in the
Book of Maccabees
, who had fought the Battels of the chosen People with so much Glory and Success, receiving in his Dream a Sword from the Hand of the
Prophet Jeremiah
. The following Passage, wherein
Satan
is described as wounded by the Sword of
Michael
, is in imitation of
Homer
.
The griding Sword with discontinuous Wound Passed through him; butt the Ethereal Substance closed Not long divisible; and from the Gash A Stream of Nectarous Humour issuing flowed Sanguine, (such as celestial Spirits may bleed) And all his Armour stained—
Homer
tells us in the same manner, that upon
Diomedes
wounding the Gods, there flow'd from the Wound an Ichor, or pure kind of Blood, which was not bred from mortal Viands; and that tho' the Pain was exquisitely great, the Wound soon closed up and healed in those Beings who are vested with Immortality.
I question not but
Milton
in his Description of his furious
Moloch
flying from the Battel, and bellowing with the Wound he had received, had his Eye on
Mars
in the
Iliad
; who, upon his being wounded, is represented as retiring out of the Fight, and making an Outcry louder than that of a whole Army when it begins the Charge.
Homer
adds, that the
Greeks
and
Trojans
, who were engaged in a general Battel, were terrify'd on each side with the bellowing of this wounded Deity. The Reader will easily observe how
Milton
has kept all the Horrour of this Image, without running into the Ridicule of it.
—Where the Might of Gabriel fought, And with fierce Ensigns pierc'd the deep Array Of Moloch, furious King! who him defy'd, And at his Chariot-wheels to drag him bound Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of Heav'n Refrained his Tongue blasphemous: but anon Down cloven to the Waste, with shattered Arms And uncouth Pain fled bellowing.—
Milton
has likewise raised his Description in this Book with many Images taken out of the poetical Parts of Scripture. The
Messiah's
Chariot, as I have before taken notice, is formed upon a Vision of
Ezekiel
, who, as
Grotius
observes, has very much in him of
Homer's
Spirit in the Poetical Parts of his Prophecy.
The following Lines in that glorious Commission which is given the
Messiah
to extirpate the Host of Rebel Angels, is drawn from a Sublime Passage in the
Psalms
.
Go then thou Mightiest in thy Father's Might! Ascend my Chariot, guide the rapid Wheels That shake Heav'n's Basis; bring forth all my War, My Bow, my Thunder, my Almighty Arms, Gird on thy Sword on thy puissant Thigh.
The Reader will easily discover many other Strokes of the same nature.
There is no question but
Milton
had heated his Imagination with the Fight of the Gods in
Homer
, before he enter'd upon this Engagement of the Angels.
Homer
there gives us a Scene of Men, Heroes, and Gods, mix'd together in Battel.
Mars
animates the contending Armies, and lifts up his Voice in such a manner, that it is heard distinctly amidst all the Shouts and Confusion of the Fight.
Jupiter
at the same time Thunders over their Heads; while
Neptune
raises such a Tempest, that the whole Field of Battel and all the Tops of the Mountains shake about them. The Poet tells us, that
Pluto
himself, whose Habitation was in the very Center of the Earth, was so affrighted at the Shock, that he leapt from his Throne.
Homer
afterwards describes
Vulcan
as pouring down a Storm of Fire upon the River
Xanthus
, and
Minerva
as throwing a Rock at
Mars
; who, he tells us, cover'd seven Acres in his Fall.
As
Homer
has introduced into his Battel of the Gods every thing that is great and terrible in Nature,
Milton
has filled his Fight of good and bad Angels with all the like Circumstances of Horrour. The Shout of Armies, the Rattling of Brazen Chariots, the Hurling of Rocks and Mountains, the Earthquake, the Fire, the Thunder, are all of them employ'd to lift up the Reader's Imagination, and give him a suitable Idea of so great an Action. With what Art has the Poet represented the whole Body of the Earth trembling, even before it was created.
All Heaven resounded, and had Earth been then, All Earth had to its Center shook—
In how sublime and just a manner does he afterwards describe the whole Heaven shaking under the Wheels of the
Messiah's
Chariot, with that Exception to the
Throne of God
?
—Under his burning Wheels The stedfast Empyrean shook throughout, All but the Throne it self of God—
Notwithstanding the
Messiah
appears clothed with so much Terrour and Majesty, the Poet has still found means to make his Readers conceive an Idea of him, beyond what he himself was able to describe.
Yet half his Strength he put not forth, but checkt His Thunder in mid Volley; for he meant Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven.
In a Word,
Milton's
Genius, which was so great in it self, and so strengthened by all the helps of Learning, appears in this Book every way equal to his Subject, which was the most Sublime that could enter into the Thoughts of a Poet.
As
he knew all the Arts of affecting the Mind,
he knew it was necessary to give
it certain Resting-places and Opportunities of recovering it self from time to time: He has
therefore
with great Address interspersed several Speeches, Reflections, Similitudes, and the like Reliefs to diversify his Narration, and ease the Attention of
the
Reader, that he might come fresh to his great Action, and by such a Contrast of Ideas, have a more lively taste of the nobler Parts of his Description.
L.
Footnote 1:
is
Footnote 2:
an
Footnote 3:
had he not given
Footnote 4:
his
Voluisti in suo Genere, unumquemque nostrum quasi quendam esse Roscium, dixistique non tam ea quæ recta essent probari, quam quæ prava sunt fastidiis adhærescere. Cicero de Gestu.
It is very natural to take for our whole Lives a light Impression of a thing which at first fell into Contempt with us for want of Consideration. The real Use of a certain Qualification (which the wiser Part of Mankind look upon as at best an indifferent thing, and generally a frivolous Circumstance) shews the ill Consequence of such Prepossessions. What I mean, is the Art, Skill, Accomplishment, or whatever you will call it, of Dancing. I knew a Gentleman of great Abilities, who bewail'd the Want of this Part of his Education to the End of a very honourable Life. He observ'd that there was not occasion for the common Use of great Talents; that they are but seldom in Demand; and that these very great Talents were often render'd useless to a Man for want of small Attainments. A good Mein (a becoming Motion, Gesture and Aspect) is natural to some Men; but even these would be highly more graceful in their Carriage, if what they do from the Force of Nature were confirm'd and heightned from the Force of Reason. To one who has not at all considered it, to mention the Force of Reason on such a Subject, will appear fantastical; but when you have a little attended to it, an Assembly of Men will have quite another View: and they will tell you, it is evident from plain and infallible Rules, why this Man with those beautiful Features, and well fashion'd Person, is not so agreeable as he who sits by him without any of those Advantages. When we read, we do it without any exerted Act of Memory that presents the Shape of the Letters; but Habit makes us do it mechanically, without staying, like Children, to recollect and join those Letters. A Man who has not had the Regard of his Gesture in any part of his Education, will find himself unable to act with Freedom before new Company, as a Child that is but now learning would be to read without Hesitation. It is for the Advancement of the Pleasure we receive in being agreeable to each other in ordinary Life, that one would wish Dancing were generally understood as conducive as it really is to a proper Deportment in Matters that appear the most remote from it. A Man of Learning and Sense is distinguished from others as he is such, tho' he never runs upon Points too difficult for the rest of the World; in like Manner the reaching out of the Arm, and the most ordinary Motion, discovers whether a Man ever learnt to know what is the true Harmony and Composure of his Limbs and Countenance. Whoever has seen
Booth
in the Character of
Pyrrhus
, march to his Throne to receive
Orestes
, is convinced that majestick and great Conceptions are expressed in the very Step; but perhaps, tho' no other Man could perform that Incident as well as he does, he himself would do it with a yet greater Elevation were he a Dancer.
This
is so dangerous a Subject to treat with Gravity, that I shall not at present enter into it any further; but the Author of the following Letter
has treated it in the Essay he speaks of in such a Manner, that I am beholden to him for a Resolution, that I will never hereafter think meanly of any thing, till I have heard what they who have another Opinion of it have to say in its Defence.
Mr. Spectator, 'Since there are scarce any of the Arts or Sciences that have not been recommended to the World by the Pens of some of the Professors, Masters, or Lovers of them, whereby the Usefulness, Excellence, and Benefit arising from them, both as to the Speculative and practical Part, have been made publick, to the great Advantage and Improvement of such Arts and Sciences; why should Dancing, an Art celebrated by the Ancients in so extraordinary a Manner, be totally neglected by the Moderns, and left destitute of any Pen to recommend its various Excellencies and substantial Merit to Mankind? 'The low Ebb to which Dancing is now fallen, is altogether owing to this Silence. The Art is esteem'd only as an amusing Trifle; it lies altogether uncultivated, and is unhappily fallen under the Imputation of Illiterate and Mechanick: And as Terence in one of his Prologues, complains of the Rope-dancers drawing all the Spectators from his Play, so may we well say, that Capering and Tumbling is now preferred to, and supplies the Place of just and regular Dancing on our Theatres. It is therefore, in my opinion, high time that some one should come in to its Assistance, and relieve it from the many gross and growing Errors that have crept into it, and over-cast its real Beauties; and to set Dancing in its true light, would shew the Usefulness and Elegancy of it, with the Pleasure and Instruction produc'd from it; and also lay down some fundamental Rules, that might so tend to the Improvement of its Professors, and Information of the Spectators, that the first might be the better enabled to perform, and the latter render'd more capable of judging, what is (if there be any thing) valuable in this Art. 'To encourage therefore some ingenious Pen capable of so generous an Undertaking, and in some measure to relieve Dancing from the Disadvantages it at present lies under, I, who teach to dance, have attempted a small Treatise as an Essay towards an History of Dancing; in which I have enquired into its Antiquity, Original, and Use, and shewn what Esteem the Ancients had for it: I have likewise considered the Nature and Perfection of all its several Parts, and how beneficial and delightful it is, both as a Qualification and an Exercise; and endeavoured to answer all Objections that have been maliciously rais'd against it. I have proceeded to give an Account of the particular Dances of the Greeks and Romans, whether religious, warlike, or civil; and taken particular notice of that Part of Dancing relating to the ancient Stage, and in which the Pantomimes had so great a share: Nor have I been wanting in giving an historical Account of some particular Masters excellent in that surprising Art. After which, I have advanced some Observations on the modern Dancing, both as to the Stage, and that Part of it so absolutely necessary for the Qualification of Gentlemen and Ladies; and have concluded with some short Remarks on the Origin and Progress of the Character by which Dances are writ down, and communicated to one Master from another. If some great Genius after this would arise, and advance this Art to that Perfection it seems capable of receiving, what might not be expected from it? For if we consider the Origin of Arts and Sciences, we shall find that some of them took rise from Beginnings so mean and unpromising, that it is very wonderful to think that ever such surprizing Structures should have been raised upon such ordinary Foundations. But what cannot a great Genius effect? Who would have thought that the clangorous Noise of a Smith's Hammers should have given the first rise to Musick? Yet Macrobius in his second Book relates, that Pythagoras, in passing by a Smith's Shop, found that the Sounds proceeding from the Hammers were either more grave or acute, according to the different Weights of the Hammers. The Philosopher, to improve this Hint, suspends different Weights by Strings of the same Bigness, and found in like manner that the Sounds answered to the Weights. This being discover'd, he finds out those Numbers which produc'd Sounds that were Consonants: As, that two Strings of the same Substance and Tension, the one being double the Length, of the other, give that Interval which is called Diapason, or an Eighth; the same was also effected from two Strings of the same Length and Size, the one having four times the Tension of the other. By these Steps, from so mean a Beginning, did this great Man reduce, what was only before Noise, to one of the most delightful Sciences, by marrying it to the Mathematicks; and by that means caused it to be one of the most abstract and demonstrative of Sciences. Who knows therefore but Motion, whether Decorous or Representative, may not (as it seems highly probable it may) be taken into consideration by some Person capable of reducing it into a regular Science, tho' not so demonstrative as that proceeding from Sounds, yet sufficient to entitle it to a Place among the magnify'd Arts. 'Now, Mr. Spectator, as you have declared your self Visitor of Dancing-Schools, and this being an Undertaking which more immediately respects them, I think my self indispensably obliged, before I proceed to the Publication of this my Essay, to ask your Advice, and hold it absolutely necessary to have your Approbation; and in order to recommend my Treatise to the Perusal of the Parents of such as learn to dance, as well as to the young Ladies, to whom, as Visitor, you ought to be Guardian. I am, Sir, Your most humble Servant. Salop, March 19, 1711-12.