e _Tarquin_ and _Miranda_.

As Love is the most noble and divine Passion of the Soul, so it is that
to which we may justly attribute all the real Satisfactions of Life; and
without it Man is unfinish'd and unhappy.

There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous
Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft
Impressions; for 'tis not every one that can be sensible of its tender
Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, could I give
of its wondrous Power; nay, even to a Degree of Transmigration! How many
Idiots has it made wise! How many Fools eloquent! How many home-bred
Squires accomplish'd! How many Cowards brave! And there is no sort of
Species of Mankind on whom it cannot work some Change and Miracle, if it
be a noble well-grounded Passion, except on the Fop in Fashion, the
harden'd incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never reclaim'd: For
still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opiniatrety, and a greater
Portion of Self-love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he believes that
Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical Movement, that
Formality in every Action, that a Face manag'd with Care, and soften'd
into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the Back-shake of the
Periwig, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine Person he adores;
and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to advance his
Folly; and the more he is enamour'd, the more industriously he assumes
(every Hour) the Coxcomb. These are Love's Play-things, a sort of
Animals with whom he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in
good Humour, and always shoots laughing. 'Tis the Diversion of the
little God, to see what a Fluttering and Bustle one of these Sparks,
new-wounded, makes; to what fantastick Fooleries he has Recourse: The
Glass is every Moment call'd to counsel, the Valet consulted and plagu'd
for new Invention of Dress, the Footman and Scrutore perpetually
employ'd; _Billet-doux_ and _Madrigals_ take up all his Mornings, till
Play-time in dressing, till Night in gazing; still, like a Sun-flower,
turn'd towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his _Caelia_, adjusting
himself in the most amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his
Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid
upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one Side, supported
with a World of Cravat-string, which he takes mighty Care not to put