THERE is not, nor has there been, any subject so interesting to mankind, as the mysteries of the Goddess of Love; and when we trace back the traditions, even of fabulous antiquity, we find the earliest poets of Greece, all warmly engaged in her service. Hesiod himself, did not disdain to sing the origin of this bewitching goddess, whom he represents as springing from the foam and froth of the sea; this ancient tradition, however, though believed in Greece, is supposed to have had some allusions to the island of Cythera, being the birth-place of the goddess, who, therefore, figuratively sprung from the ocean. Homer indeed, gives a different genealogy to the laughterloving dame, and states her to be the daughter of Jupiter, and Dione. The ancients, however, were not contented with one Venus, for the Philosophic Cicero Ram. Mag. No. XII.

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himself, mentions no less than four of that name; the first, daughter of Coelus and Aurora; the second, as described by Hesiod; the third, who appears to be Homer's Venus, the wife of Vulcan, and the Goddess of Crim. Con.; and the fourth, Astarte, the Phenecian Venus, beloved by Adonis. This lady, indeed, seems to have made sad havoc among the grey-beards of antiquity, for the sedate and accurate Pausanias particularizes not less than three; one, the celestial divinity presiding over. platonic love; the second, a lady of more earthly mould, and as such, bestowing her patronage on downright matrimony; and a third, the averting Venus, or Apostrophia, who banished all improper passions. From the extreme dissonance of these amatory legends, no exact conclusion can be drawn, nor did the ancients seem to aim at any, as their physiology, morality, and even their history are equally tinted with these fables: sometimes they describe their Venus, as a female of the loosest conduct, sometimes as a pure and celestial goddess, then simply as a planet, or one of the passions. This figurative language is what has formed the mythology of the ancients; as Orpheus, Homer, and all the early poets, speak of her as forming the world, and keeping both gods and men as slaves to her empire. Her worship originally commenced at Cythera, one of the Cyclades, from whence it passed into Greece, and as all nations in their infancy are fond of the marvellous, the Grecians not only described her as springing from the sea, but also gave her the name of Aphrodites, signifying, produced by foam. The fondness of the Grecian poets for embellishment is well known; we are not surprised, therefore, at their giving her a son, which idea, however, they seem to have borrowed from the Phenecians, whose Astarte had a son by Adonis. From this simple beginning, commenced that love system, which has given such force and spirit to ancient poets, to Anacreon, Theocritus, and the Grecian school; to Ovid, Horace, and Tibullus, in the gay regions of Italy: to Secundus, Bonnefonius, Petrarch, down to Hammond, and Armstrong, and though last, not least, Mr. Little. Not

withstanding all the absurdities of the antient mythology, there is yet an elegant simplicity in their ideas respecting the general goddess. A young and blooming virgin rises from the bottom of the deep, reclining on a shell; her transparent drapery floating in the breeze, she is wafted to the shore, and bends her steps to mount Cythera, whilst the most fragrant flowers spring up under her footsteps; the Hours are entrusted with her education, and soon accompany her to heaven, where her beauty excites universal admiration amongst the gods. She is bestowed by Jupiter, on his son, Vulcan; her son, Cupid, becomes her powerful auxiliary, and with him, the Loves, the Graces, the Sports and Smiles in her train, she becomes the dispenser of joy and happiness, not only to the celestial regions, but also to her votaries on earth.

The modes of worshiping her were various; sometimes they sacrificed to her a white goat, or a sparrow, or offered incense upon her altars: the ladies also consecrated their hair to the voluptuous deity, and from this, arose the story of the hair of Berenice being placed among the constellations. The rose, of all the flowery tribe, was most particularly dedicated to the goddess, as its crimson tint was supposed to have arisen from the blood of Adonis, wounded by one of its thorns; the myrtle was also another of her symbols, from its being abundant in the isle of Cythera; and even the lowly violet derived fresh charms from the goddess.

The engraving of the goddess, given with this number, is made from a drawing taken at Naples, of a painting dug out of the ruins of Herculaneum, in the year 1742, and now in the possession of his Neapolitan Majesty. Connoisseurs speak in the highest terms of the grace and beauty of the original, and consider it a valuable specimen of Roman art. It was painted on a wall which formed the termination of a vista, in a subterranean garden. The body was of the most lively flesh colour: the inside of the shell of bright carration: the veil flying in the air, yellow and the outside of the shell green, relieved with white.

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The Rambler;

Or the Life, Adventures, Amours, Intrigues, and Eccentricities of GREGORY GRIFFIN.

(Continued from page 490.)

CHAPTER VI.

The advice given to our hero, by Father Baldini, was destined to form a new era in his history, and to fix those youthful passions, which are too often the attendants of our early career, and not unfrequently imbitter, in their excesses, the happiness of the rest of our lives. But a new light had dawned upon his mind with the advice of the good Father Baldini, who, whatever else might be said against him, could not, in this instance, be charged with not exemplifying his doctrines by his own practice of indulging his passions. Gregory recollected now the voluptuousness of Madame St. Clair, and he judged rightly in supposing that the pleasures of love would be still more enhanced, were the ages and inclinations of either party more upon an equality than they were in that instance. He now sought the company of Amelia oftener; his embraces were more ardent; and when he parted from her, it was with pain, which only shewed the force of his passion. His grand object was now to endeavour to animate her bosom with the same fire that burned so furious in his breast, by which, he would disarm her better judgment, by inflaming her imagination. He now found out the pleasure that the ancient and modern amatory poets afforded; and Ovid, Catullus, Secundus, and a few others, were now his constant companions. For the first time, he tried himself to compose a few rhymes, to show the force of his affection, and perhaps my readers will not conceive that he altogether failed in his object.

Oh, Love! I own thy mighty power,
And prostrate at thy shrine,

While raging flames my heart devour,

I feel thou art divine.

One hour of bliss with her I love
Were worth an age of woe,

To teach my pretty, modest dove,
That joy is still below.

When two rapt souls in union meet,
All earthly bliss it passes,

And sure there are no hours so sweet
As those spent with the lasses.

These were the studies that now employed the time of Gregory, the future minister of the gospel in the Catholic Church, to receive the confession of sinners, and to give absolution for the crimes they may have committed. His first step upon the virtue of Amelia was to introduce such books to her notice, as would, by their seductive eloquence, charm while they infused the poison, and lead her to contemplate the mysterious union without any sentiment of alarm. The Bible was the first book that he employed, for he considered, that if he could bring to her notice the numerous amatory passages throughout the sacred book, he could then talk and discourse more freely upon those subjects, as they would have the stamp of divinity and revealed religion to recommend them. Some of the chapters in the beginning of Genesis, and numerous others throughout the five books of Moses, which do not always discourse in the most refined terms or ideas respecting the sexual connexions, were the principal that he pointed out to her. The great instrument which he relied on for success was the Canticles of Solomon, which express, in the most luxuriant and licentious terms, the violence of mutual passions, heightened and improved with all the voluptuousness of the east. Our priests and religionists have, it is true, endeavoured to allegorise this luscious poem, but they must be very weak observers of its effects, if they see not, that under the