like you, can make themselves useful to all States, should be like gentle Streams, that not only glide through lonely Vales and Forests amidst the Flocks and Shepherds, but visit populous Towns in their Course, and are at once of Ornament and Service to them.  But there is another sort of People who seem designed for Solitude, those I mean who have more to hide than to shew:  As for my own Part, I am one of those of whom Seneca says, Tum Umbratiles sunt, ut putent in turbido esse quicquid in luce est.  Some Men, like Pictures, are fitter for a Corner than a full Light; and I believe such as have a natural Bent to Solitude, are like Waters which may be forced into Fountains, and exalted to a great Height, may make a much nobler Figure, and a much louder Noise, but after all run more smoothly, equally and plentifully, in their own natural Course upon the Ground.  The Consideration of this would make me very well contented with the Possession only of that Quiet which Cowley calls the Companion of Obscurity; but whoever has the Muses too for his Companions, can never be idle enough to be uneasie.  Thus, Sir, you see I would flatter my self into a good Opinion of my own Way of Living; Plutarch just now told me, that ’tis in human Life as in a Game at Tables, one may wish he had the highest Cast, but if his Chance be otherwise, he is even to play it as well as he can, and make the best of it.

  I am, SIR,
  Your most obliged,
  and most humble Servant.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

The Town being so well pleased with the fine Picture of artless Love, which Nature inspired the Laplander to paint in the Ode you lately printed; we were in Hopes that the ingenious Translator would have obliged it with the other also which Scheffer has given us; but since he has not, a much inferior Hand has ventured to send you this.

It is a Custom with the Northern Lovers to divert themselves with a Song, whilst they Journey through the fenny Moors to pay a visit to their Mistresses.  This is addressed by the Lover to his Rain-Deer, which is the Creature that in that Country supplies the Want of Horses.  The Circumstances which successively present themselves to him in his Way, are, I believe you will think, naturally interwoven.  The Anxiety of Absence, the Gloominess of the Roads, and his Resolution of frequenting only those, since those only can carry him to the Object of his Desires; the Dissatisfaction he expresses even at the greatest Swiftness with which he is carried, and his joyful Surprize at an unexpected Sight of his Mistress as she is bathing, seems beautifully described in the Original.

If all those pretty Images of Rural Nature are lost in the Imitation, yet possibly you may think fit to let this supply the Place of a long Letter, when Want of Leisure or Indisposition for Writing will not permit our being entertained by your own Hand.  I propose such a Time, because tho it is natural