this leap; being now in the fifty-fifth year of her age, and in love with an officer of Sparta. Broke her neck in the fall.

Hipparchus being passionately fond of his own wife, who was enamoured of Bathyllus, leaped and died of his fall; upon which his wife married her gallant.

Tettyx, the dancing-master, in love with Olympia, an Athenian matron, threw himself from the rock with great agility, but was crippled in the fall.

Diagoras the usurer, in love with his cook-maid; he peeped several times over the precipice, but his heart misgiving him, he went back, and married her that evening.

Cinædus, after having entered his own name in the Pythian records, being asked the name of the person whom he leaped for, and being ashamed to discover it, he was set aside, and not suffered to leap.

Eunica, a maid of Paphos, aged nineteen, in love with Eurybates. Hurt in the fall, but recovered. N.B.-This was her second time of leaping.

Hesperus, a young man of Tarentum, in love with his master's daughter. Drowned, the boats not coming in soon enough to his relief.

Sappho, the Lesbian, in love with Phaon, arrived at the temple of Apollo, habited like a bride in garments as white as snow. She wore a garland of myrtle on her head, and carried in her hand the little musical instrument of her own invention. After having sung an hymn to Apollo, she hung up her garland on one side of his altar, and her harp on the other. She then tucked up her vestments like a Spartan virgin, and amidst thousands of spectators, who were anxious for her safety, and offered

313 up vows for her deliverance, marched' directly forwards to the utmost summit of the promontory, where, after having repeated a stanza of her own verses which we could not hear, she threw herself off the rock with such an intrepidity, as was never before observed in any who had attempted that dangerous leap. Many who were present related that they saw her fall into the sea, from whence she never rose again; though there were others who affirmed that she never came to the bottom of her leap; but that she was changed into a swan as she fell, and that they saw her hovering in the air under that shape. But whether or no the whiteness and fluttering of her garments might not deceive those who looked upon her, or whether she might not really be metamorphosed into that musical and melancholy bird, is still a doubt among the Lesbians.

Alcæus, the famous lyric poet, who had for some time been passionately in love with Sappho, arrived at the promontory of Leucate that very evening, in order to take the leap upon her account; but hearing that Sappho had been there before him, and that her body could be nowhere found, he very generously lamented her fall, and is said to have written his hundred and twenty-fifth ode upon that occasion.

No. 234. Wednesday, Nov. 28, 1711

YOU

Vellem in amicitia sua erraremus

[STEELE.

-HOR., I Sat. iii. 41.1

OU very often hear people, after a story has been told with some entertaining circumstances, tell it over again with particulars that destroy the jest, but give light into the truth of the narration. This sort of veracity, though it is impertinent, has something amiable in it, because it proceeds from the love of truth even in frivolous occasions. If such honest amendments do not promise an agreeable companion, they do a sincere friend; for which reason one should allow them so much of our time, if we fall into their company, as to set us right in matters that can do us no manner of harm, whether the facts be one way or the other. Lies which are told out of arrogance and ostentation a man should detect in his own defence, because he should not be triumphed over; lies which are told out of malice he should expose, both for his own sake and that of the rest of mankind, because every man should rise against a common enemy; but the officious liar many have argued is to be excused, because it does some man good and no man hurt. The man who made more than ordinary speed from a fight in which the Athenians were beaten, and told them they had obtained a complete victory, and put the whole city into the utmost joy and exultation, was checked by the magistrates for his falsehood; but excused himself by saying, 'O Athenians! am

1 The motto in the folio issue was Horace's 'Splendide mendax.'

315 I your enemy because I gave ye two happy days?' This fellow did to a whole people what an acquaintance of mine does every day he lives in some eminent degree to particular persons. He is ever lying people into good humour, and as Plato said it was allowable in physicians to lie to their patients to keep up their spirits, I am half doubtful whether my friend's behaviour is not as excusable. His manner is to express himself surprised at the cheerful countenance of a man whom he observes diffident of himself; and generally by that means makes his lie a truth. He will, as if he did not know anything of the circumstance, ask one whom he knows at variance with another, what is the meaning that Mr. such a one, naming his adversary, does not applaud him with that heartiness which formerly he has heard him? He said indeed,' continues he, "I would rather have that man for my friend than any man in England; but for an enemymelts the person he talks to, who expected nothing but downright raillery1 from that side. According as he feels his practice succeed, he goes to the opposite party and tells him, he cannot imagine how it happens that some people know one another so little: You spoke with so much coldness of a gentleman who said more good of you than, let me tell you, any man living deserves.' The success of one of these incidents was, that the next time that one of the adversaries spied the other, he hems after him in the public street; and they must crack a bottle at the next tavern, that used to turn out of the other's way to avoid one another's eyeshot. He will tell one beauty she was commended by another, nay, he will say she gave the woman he

1 Railing.

This

speaks to the preference in a particular for which she herself is admired. The pleasantest confusion imaginable is made through the whole town by my friend's indirect offices; you shall have a visit returned after half a year's absence, and mutual railing at each other every day of that time. They meet with a thousand lamentations for so long a separation, each party naming herself for the greater delinquent, if the other can possibly be so good as to forgive her, which she has no reason in the world but from the knowledge of her goodness to hope for. Very often a whole train of railers of each side tire their horses in setting matters right which they have said during the war between the parties, and a whole circle of acquaintance are put into a thousand pleasing passions and sentiments, instead of the pangs of anger, envy, detraction, and malice.

The worst evil I ever observed this man's falsehood occasion, has been that he turned detraction into flattery. He is well skilled in the manners of the world, and by overlooking what men really are, he grounds his artifices upon what they have a mind to be. Upon this foundation, if two distant friends are brought together, and the cement seems to be weak, he never rests till he finds new appearances to take off all remains of ill-will; and that by new misunderstandings they are thoroughly reconciled.

、

'SIR,

'To the SPECTATOR.

'Devonshire, Nov. 14, 1711.

THERE arrived in this neighbourhood two days ago one of your gay gentlemen of the town, who being attended at his entry with a servant of