Chapter XVIII: Introduction (18)

During this constant Straggle it happened, that _Phillis_ one Day at publick Prayers smote the Heart of a gay _West-Indian_, who appear'd in all the Colours which can affect an Eye that could not distinguish between being fine and tawdry. This _American_ in a Summer-Island Suit was too shining and too gay to be resisted by _Phillis_, and too intent upon her Charms to be diverted by any of the laboured Attractions of _Brunetta_. Soon after, _Brunetta_ had the Mortification to see her Rival disposed of in a wealthy Marriage, while she was only addressed to in a Manner that shewed she was the Admiration of all Men, but the Choice of none. _Phillis_ was carried to the Habitation of her Spouse in _Barbadoes_: _Brunetta_ had the Ill-nature to inquire for her by every Opportunity, and had the Misfortune to hear of her being attended by numerous Slaves, fanned into Slumbers by successive Hands of them, and carried from Place to Place in all the Pomp of barbarous Magnificence. _Brunetta_ could not endure these repeated Advices, but employed all her Arts and Charms in laying Baits for any of Condition of the same Island, out of a mere Ambition to confront her once more before she died. She at last succeeded in her Design, and was taken to Wife by a Gentleman whose Estate was contiguous to that of her Enemy's Husband. It would be endless to enumerate the many Occasions on which these irreconcileable Beauties laboured to excel each other; but in process of Time it happened that a Ship put into the Island consigned to a Friend of _Phillis_, who had Directions to give her the Refusal of all Goods for Apparel, before _Brunetta_ could be alarmed of their Arrival. He did so, and _Phillis_ was dressed in a few Days in a Brocade more gorgeous and costly than had ever before appeared in that Latitude. _Brunetta_ languished at the Sight, and could by no means come up to the Bravery of her Antagonist. She communicated her Anguish of Mind to a faithful Friend, who by an Interest in the Wife of _Phillis's_ Merchant, procured a Remnant of the same Silk for _Brunetta_. _Phillis_ took pains to appear in all public Places where she was sure to meet _Brunetta_; _Brunetta_ was now prepared for the Insult, and came to a public Ball in a plain black Silk Mantua, attended by a beautiful Negro Girl in a Petticoat of the same Brocade with which _Phillis_ was attired. This drew the Attention of the whole Company, upon which the unhappy _Phillis_ swooned away, and was immediately convey'd to her House. As soon as she came to herself she fled from her Husband's House, went on board a Ship in the Road, and is now landed in inconsolable Despair at _Plymouth_.

_POSTSCRIPT_.

After the above melancholy Narration, it may perhaps be a Relief to the Reader to peruse the following Expostulation.

_To Mr._ SPECTATOR.

_The just Remonstrance of affronted THAT._

'Tho' I deny not the Petition of Mr. _Who_ and _Which_, yet You should
not suffer them to be rude and call honest People Names: For that
bears very hard on some of those Rules of Decency, which You are
justly famous for establishing. They may find fault, and correct
Speeches in the Senate and at the Bar: But let them try to get
_themselves_ so _often_ and with so much _Eloquence_ repeated in a
Sentence, as a great Orator doth frequently introduce me.

My Lords! (says he) with humble Submission, _That_ that I say is
this; that, _That_ that that Gentleman has advanced, is not _That_,
that he should have proved to your Lordships. Let those two
questionary Petitioners try to do thus with their _Who's_ and their
_Whiches_.

'What great advantage was I of to Mr. _Dryden_ in his _Indian
Emperor_,

_You force me still to answer You in_ That,

to furnish out a Rhyme to _Morat_? And what a poor Figure would Mr.
_Bayes_ have made without his _Egad and all That_? How can a judicious
Man distinguish one thing from another, without saying _This here_, or
_That there_? And how can a sober Man without using the _Expletives_
of Oaths (in which indeed the Rakes and Bullies have a great advantage
over others) make a Discourse of any tolerable Length, without _That
is_; and if he be a very grave Man indeed, without _That is to say_?
And how instructive as well as entertaining are those usual
Expressions in the Mouths of great Men, _Such Things as That_ and _The
like of That_.

I am not against reforming the Corruptions of Speech You mention, and
own there are proper Seasons for the Introduction of other Words
besides _That_; but I scorn as much to supply the Place of a _Who_ or
a _Which_ at every Turn, as they are _unequal_ always to fill mine;
And I expect good Language and civil Treatment, and hope to receive it
for the future: _That_, that I shall only add is, that I am,

_Yours_,

THAT.'

R.

* * * * *

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

CHARLES LORD HALLIFAX. [1]

_My_ LORD,

Similitude of Manners and Studies is usually mentioned as one of the strongest motives to Affection and Esteem; but the passionate Veneration I have for your Lordship, I think, flows from an Admiration of Qualities in You, of which, in the whole course of these Papers I have acknowledged myself incapable. While I busy myself as a Stranger upon Earth, and can pretend to no other than being a Looker-on, You are conspicuous in the Busy and Polite world, both in the World of Men, and that of Letters; While I am silent and unobserv'd in publick Meetings, You are admired by all that approach You as the Life and Genius of the Conversation. What an happy Conjunction of different Talents meets in him whose whole Discourse is at once animated by the Strength and Force of Reason, and adorned with all the Graces and Embellishments of Wit: When Learning irradiates common Life, it is then in its highest Use and Perfection; and it is to such as Your Lordship, that the Sciences owe the Esteem which they have with the active Part of Mankind. Knowledge of Books in recluse Men, is like that sort of Lanthorn which hides him who carries it, and serves only to pass through secret and gloomy Paths of his own; but in the Possession of a Man of Business, it is as a Torch in the Hand of one who is willing and able to shew those, who are bewildered, the Way which leads to their Prosperity and Welfare. A generous Concern for your Country, and a Passion for every thing which is truly Great and Noble, are what actuate all Your Life and Actions; and I hope You will forgive me that I have an Ambition this Book may be placed in the Library of so good a Judge of what is valuable, in that Library where the Choice is such, that it will not be a Disparagement to be the meanest Author in it. Forgive me, my Lord, for taking this Occasion of telling all the World how ardently I Love and Honour You; and that I am, with the utmost Gratitude for all Your Favours,

_My Lord, Your Lordship's Most Obliged, Most Obedient, and Most Humble Servant, THE SPECTATOR._

[Footnote 1: When the 'Spectators' were reissued in volumes, Vol. I. ended with No. 80, and to the second volume, containing the next 89 numbers, this Dedication was prefixed.

Charles Montague, at the time of the dedication fifty years old, and within four years of the end of his life, was born, in 1661, at Horton, in Northamptonshire. His father was a younger son of the first Earl of Manchester. He was educated at Westminster School and at Trinity College, Cambridge.

Apt for wit and verse, he joined with his friend Prior in writing a burlesque on Dryden's 'Hind and Panther', 'Transversed to the Story of the Country and the City Mouse.' In Parliament in James the Second's reign, he joined in the invitation of William of Orange, and rose rapidly, a self-made man, after the Revolution. In 1691 he was a Lord of the Treasury; in April, 1694, he became Chancellor of the Exchequer, and in May, 1697, First Lord of the Treasury, retaining the Chancellorship and holding both offices till near the close of 1699. Of his dealing with the currency, see note on p. 19. In 1700 he was made Baron Halifax, and had secured the office of Auditor of the Exchequer, which was worth at least £4000 a year, and in war time twice as much. The Tories, on coming to power, made two unsuccessful attempts to fix on him charges of fraud. In October, 1714, George I made him Earl of Halifax and Viscount Sunbury. Then also he again became Prime Minister. He was married, but died childless, in May, 1715. In 1699, when Somers and Halifax were the great chiefs of the Whig Ministry, they joined in befriending Addison, then 27 years old, who had pleased Somers with a piece of English verse and Montague with Latin lines upon the Peace of Ryswick.

Now, therefore, having dedicated the First volume of the 'Spectator' to Somers, it is to Halifax that Steele and he inscribe the Second.

Of the defect in Charles Montague's character, Lord Macaulay writes that, when at the height of his fortune,

"He became proud even to insolence. Old companions ... hardly knew
their friend Charles in the great man who could not forget for one
moment that he was First Lord of the Treasury, that he was Chancellor
of the Exchequer, that he had been a Regent of the kingdom, that he
had founded the Bank of England, and the new East India Company, that
he had restored the Currency, that he had invented the Exchequer
Bills, that he had planned the General Mortgage, and that he had been
pronounced, by a solemn vote of the Commons, to have deserved all the
favours which he had received from the Crown. It was said that
admiration of himself and contempt of others were indicated by all his
gestures, and written in all the lines of his face."]

* * * * *

No. 81. Saturday, June 2, 1711. Addison.

'Qualis ubi audito venantum murmure Tigris
Horruit in maculas ...'

Statins.

About the Middle of last Winter I went to see an Opera at the Theatre in the _Hay-Market_, where I could not but take notice of two Parties of very fine Women, that had placed themselves in the opposite Side-Boxes, and seemed drawn up in a kind of Battle-Array one against another. After a short Survey of them, I found they were Patch'd differently; the Faces on one Hand, being spotted on the right Side of the Forehead, and those upon the other on the Left. I quickly perceived that they cast hostile Glances upon one another; and that their Patches were placed in those different Situations, as Party-Signals to distinguish Friends from Foes. In the Middle-Boxes, between these two opposite Bodies, were several Ladies who Patched indifferently on both Sides of their Faces, and seem'd to sit there with no other Intention but to see the Opera. Upon Inquiry I found, that the Body of _Amazons_ on my Right Hand, were Whigs, and those on my Left, Tories; And that those who had placed themselves in the Middle Boxes were a Neutral Party, whose Faces had not yet declared themselves. These last, however, as I afterwards found, diminished daily, and took their Party with one Side or the other; insomuch that I observed in several of them, the Patches, which were before dispersed equally, are now all gone over to the Whig or Tory Side of the Face. The Censorious say, That the Men, whose Hearts are aimed at, are very often the Occasions that one Part of the Face is thus dishonoured, and lies under a kind of Disgrace, while the other is so much Set off and Adorned by the Owner; and that the Patches turn to the Right or to the Left, according to the Principles of the Man who is most in Favour. But whatever may be the Motives of a few fantastical Coquets, who do not Patch for the Publick Good so much as for their own private Advantage, it is certain, that there are several Women of Honour who patch out of Principle, and with an Eye to the Interest of their Country. Nay, I am informed that some of them adhere so stedfastly to their Party, and are so far from sacrificing their Zeal for the Publick to their Passion for any particular Person, that in a late Draught of Marriage-Articles a Lady has stipulated with her Husband, That, whatever his Opinions are, she shall be at liberty to Patch on which Side she pleases.

I must here take notice, that _Rosalinda_, a famous Whig Partizan, has most unfortunately a very beautiful Mole on the Tory Part of her Forehead; which being very conspicuous, has occasioned many Mistakes, and given an Handle to her Enemies to misrepresent her Face, as tho' it had Revolted from the Whig Interest. But, whatever this natural Patch may seem to intimate, it is well known that her Notions of Government are still the same. This unlucky Mole, however, has mis-led several Coxcombs; and like the hanging out of false Colours, made some of them converse with _Rosalinda_ in what they thought the Spirit of her Party, when on a sudden she has given them an unexpected Fire, that has sunk them all at once. If _Rosalinda_ is unfortunate in her Mole, _Nigranilla_ is as unhappy in a Pimple, which forces her, against her Inclinations, to Patch on the Whig Side.

I am told that many virtuous Matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial Spotting of the Face was unlawful, are now reconciled by a Zeal for their Cause, to what they could not be prompted by a Concern for their Beauty. This way of declaring War upon one another, puts me in mind of what is reported of the Tigress, that several Spots rise in her Skin when she is angry, or as Mr. _Cowley_ has imitated the Verses that stand as the Motto on this Paper,

... _She swells with angry Pride,
And calls forth all her Spots on ev'ry Side_. [1]

When I was in the Theatre the Time above-mentioned, I had the Curiosity to count the Patches on both Sides, and found the Tory Patches to be about Twenty stronger than the Whig; but to make amends for this small Inequality, I the next Morning found the whole Puppet-Show filled with Faces spotted after the Whiggish Manner. Whether or no the Ladies had retreated hither in order to rally their Forces I cannot tell; but the next Night they came in so great a Body to the Opera, that they out-number'd the Enemy.

This Account of Party Patches, will, I am afraid, appear improbable to those who live at a Distance from the fashionable World: but as it is a Distinction of a very singular Nature, and what perhaps may never meet with a Parallel, I think I should not have discharged the Office of a faithful SPECTATOR, had I not recorded it.

I have, in former Papers, endeavoured to expose this Party-Rage in Women, as it only serves to aggravate the Hatreds and Animosities that reign among Men, and in a great measure deprive the Fair Sex of those peculiar Charms with which Nature has endowed them.

When the _Romans_ and _Sabines_ were at War, and just upon the Point of giving Battel, the Women, who were allied to both of them, interposed with so many Tears and Intreaties, that they prevented the mutual Slaughter which threatned both Parties, and united them together in a firm and lasting Peace.

I would recommend this noble Example to our _British_ Ladies, at a Time when their Country is torn with so many unnatural Divisions, that if they continue, it will be a Misfortune to be born in it. The _Greeks_ thought it so improper for Women to interest themselves in Competitions and Contentions, that for this Reason, among others, they forbad them, under Pain of Death, to be present at the _Olympick_ Games, notwithstanding these were the publick Diversions of all _Greece_.

As our _English_ Women excel those of all Nations in Beauty, they should endeavour to outshine them in all other Accomplishments [proper [2]] to the Sex, and to distinguish themselves as tender Mothers, and faithful Wives, rather than as furious Partizans. Female Virtues are of a Domestick Turn. The Family is the proper Province for Private Women to shine in. If they must be shewing their Zeal for the Publick, let it not be against those who are perhaps of the same Family, or at least of the same Religion or Nation, but against those who are the open, professed, undoubted Enemies of their Faith, Liberty and Country. When the _Romans_ were pressed with a Foreign Enemy, the Ladies voluntarily contributed all their Rings and Jewels to assist the Government under a publick Exigence, which appeared so laudable an Action in the Eyes of their Countrymen, that from thenceforth it was permitted by a Law to pronounce publick Orations at the Funeral of a Woman in Praise of the deceased Person, which till that Time was peculiar to Men. Would our _English_ Ladies, instead of sticking on a Patch against those of their own Country, shew themselves so truly Publick-spirited as to sacrifice every one her Necklace against the common Enemy, what Decrees ought not to be made in Favour of them?

Since I am recollecting upon this Subject such Passages as occur to my Memory out of ancient Authors, I cannot omit a Sentence in the celebrated Funeral Oration of _Pericles_ [3] which he made in Honour of those brave _Athenians_ that were slain in a fight with the _Lacedaemonians_. After having addressed himself to the several Ranks and Orders of his Countrymen, and shewn them how they should behave themselves in the Publick Cause, he turns to the Female Part of his Audience;

'And as for you (says he) I shall advise you in very few Words:
Aspire only to those Virtues that are peculiar to your Sex; follow
your natural Modesty, and think it your greatest Commendation not to
be talked of one way or other'.

C.

[Footnote 1: 'Davideis', Bk III. But Cowley's Tiger is a Male.]

[Footnote 2: that are proper]

[Footnote 3: Thucydides, Bk II.]

* * * * *

No. 82. Monday, June 4, 1711. Steele.

'... Caput domina venate sub hasta.'

Juv.

Passing under _Ludgate_ [1] the other Day, I heard a Voice bawling for Charity, which I thought I had somewhere heard before. Coming near to the Grate, the Prisoner called me by my Name, and desired I would throw something into the Box: I was out of Countenance for him, and did as he bid me, by putting in half a Crown. I went away, reflecting upon the strange Constitution of some Men, and how meanly they behave themselves in all Sorts of Conditions. The Person who begged of me is now, as I take it, Fifty; I was well acquainted with him till about the Age of Twenty-five; at which Time a good Estate fell to him by the Death of a Relation. Upon coming to this unexpected good Fortune, he ran into all the Extravagancies imaginable; was frequently in drunken Disputes, broke Drawers Heads, talked and swore loud, was unmannerly to those above him, and insolent to those below him. I could not but remark, that it was the same Baseness of Spirit which worked in his Behaviour in both Fortunes: The same little Mind was insolent in Riches, and shameless in Poverty. This Accident made me muse upon the Circumstances of being in Debt in general, and solve in my Mind what Tempers were most apt to fall into this Error of Life, as well as the Misfortune it must needs be to languish under such Pressures. As for my self, my natural Aversion to that sort of Conversation which makes a Figure with the Generality of Mankind, exempts me from any Temptations to Expence; and all my Business lies within a very narrow Compass, which is only to give an honest Man, who takes care of my Estate, proper Vouchers for his quarterly Payments to me, and observe what Linnen my Laundress brings and takes away with her once a Week: My Steward brings his Receipt ready for my Signing; and I have a pretty Implement with the respective Names of Shirts, Cravats, Handkerchiefs and Stockings, with proper Numbers to know how to reckon with my Laundress. This being almost all the Business I have in the World for the Care of my own Affairs, I am at full Leisure to observe upon what others do, with relation to their Equipage and Oeconomy.

When I walk the Street, and observe the Hurry about me in this Town,

_Where with like Haste, tho' diff'rent Ways they run;
Some to undo, and some to be undone;_ [2]

I say, when I behold this vast Variety of Persons and Humours, with the Pains they both take for the Accomplishment of the Ends mentioned in the above Verse of _Denham,_ I cannot much wonder at the Endeavour after Gain, but am extremely astonished that Men can be so insensible of the Danger of running into Debt. One would think it impossible a Man who is given to contract Debts should know, that his Creditor has, from that Moment in which he transgresses Payment, so much as that Demand comes to in his Debtor's Honour, Liberty, and Fortune. One would think he did not know, that his Creditor can say the worst thing imaginable of him, to wit, _That he is unjust_, without Defamation; and can seize his Person, without being guilty of an Assault. Yet such is the loose and abandoned Turn of some Men's Minds, that they can live under these constant Apprehensions, and still go on to encrease the Cause of them. Can there be a more low and servile Condition, than to be ashamed, or afraid, to see any one Man breathing? Yet he that is much in Debt, is in that Condition with relation to twenty different People. There are indeed Circumstances wherein Men of honest Natures may become liable to Debts, by some unadvised Behaviour in any great Point of their Life, or mortgaging a Man's Honesty as a Security for that of another, and the like; but these Instances are so particular and circumstantiated, that they cannot come within general Considerations: For one such Case as one of these, there are ten, where a Man, to keep up a Farce of Retinue and Grandeur within his own House, shall shrink at the Expectation of surly Demands at his Doors. The Debtor is the Creditor's Criminal, and all the Officers of Power and State, whom we behold make so great a Figure, are no other than so many Persons in Authority to make good his Charge against him. Human Society depends upon his having the Vengeance Law allots him; and the Debtor owes his Liberty to his Neighbour, as much as the Murderer does his Life to his Prince.

Our Gentry are, generally speaking, in Debt; and many Families have put it into a kind of Method of being so from Generation to Generation. The Father mortgages when his Son is very young: and the Boy is to marry as soon as he is at Age, to redeem it, and find Portions for his Sisters. This, forsooth, is no great Inconvenience to him; for he may wench, keep a publick Table or feed Dogs, like a worthy _English_ Gentleman, till he has out-run half his Estate, and leave the same Incumbrance upon his First-born, and so on, till one Man of more Vigour than ordinary goes quite through the Estate, or some Man of Sense comes into it, and scorns to have an Estate in Partnership, that is to say, liable to the Demand or Insult of any Man living. There is my Friend Sir ANDREW, tho' for many Years a great and general Trader, was never the Defendant in a Law-Suit, in all the Perplexity of Business, and the Iniquity of Mankind at present: No one had any Colour for the least Complaint against his Dealings with him. This is certainly as uncommon, and in its Proportion as laudable in a Citizen, as it is in a General never to have suffered a Disadvantage in Fight. How different from this Gentleman is _Jack Truepenny,_ who has been an old Acquaintance of Sir ANDREW and my self from Boys, but could never learn our Caution. _Jack_ has a whorish unresisting Good-nature, which makes him incapable of having a Property in any thing. His Fortune, his Reputation, his Time and his Capacity, are at any Man's Service that comes first. When he was at School, he was whipped thrice a Week for Faults he took upon him to excuse others; since he came into the Business of the World, he has been arrested twice or thrice a Year for Debts he had nothing to do with, but as a Surety for others; and I remember when a Friend of his had suffered in the Vice of the Town, all the Physick his Friend took was conveyed to him by _Jack_, and inscribed, 'A Bolus or an Electuary for Mr. _Truepenny_.' _Jack_ had a good Estate left him, which came to nothing; because he believed all who pretended to Demands upon it. This Easiness and Credulity destroy all the other Merit he has; and he has all his Life been a Sacrifice to others, without ever receiving Thanks, or doing one good Action.

I will end this Discourse with a Speech which I heard _Jack_ make to one of his Creditors, (of whom he deserved gentler Usage) after lying a whole Night in Custody at his Suit.

SIR,

'Your Ingratitude for the many Kindnesses I have done you, shall not
make me unthankful for the Good you have done me, in letting me see
there is such a Man as you in the World. I am obliged to you for the
Diffidence I shall have all the rest of my Life: _I shall hereafter
trust no Man so far as to be in his Debt_.'

R.

[Footnote 1: Ludgate was originally built in 1215, by the Barons who entered London, destroyed houses of Jews and erected this gate with their ruins. It was first used as a prison in 1373, being then a free prison, but soon losing that privilege. Sir Stephen Forster, who was Lord Mayor in 1454, had been a prisoner at Ludgate and begged at the grate, where he was seen by a rich widow who bought his liberty, took him into her service, and eventually married him. To commemorate this he enlarged the accommodation for the prisoners and added a chapel. The old gate was taken down and rebuilt in 1586. That second gate was destroyed in the Fire of London.

The gate which succeeded and was used, like its predecessors, as a wretched prison for debtors, was pulled down in 1760, and the prisoners removed, first to the London workhouse, afterwards to part of the Giltspur Street Compter.]

[Footnote 2: Sir John Denham's 'Cooper's Hill.']

* * * * *

No. 83. Tuesday, June 5, 1711. Addison.

'... Animum pictura pascit inani.'

Virg.

When the Weather hinders me from taking my Diversions without Doors, I frequently make a little Party with two or three select Friends, to visit any thing curious that may be seen under Covert. My principal Entertainments of this Nature are Pictures, insomuch that when I have found the Weather set in to be very bad, I have taken a whole Day's Journey to see a Gallery that is furnished by the Hands of great Masters. By this means, when the Heavens are filled with Clouds, when the Earth swims in Rain, and all Nature wears a lowering Countenance, I withdraw myself from these uncomfortable Scenes into the visionary Worlds of Art; where I meet with shining Landskips, gilded Triumphs, beautiful Faces, and all those other Objects that fill the mind with gay Ideas, and disperse that Gloominess which is apt to hang upon it in those dark disconsolate Seasons.

I was some Weeks ago in a Course of these Diversions; which had taken such an entire Possession of my Imagination, that they formed in it a short Morning's Dream, which I shall communicate to my Reader, rather as the first Sketch and Outlines of a Vision, than as a finished Piece.

I dreamt that I was admitted into a long spacious Gallery, which had one Side covered with Pieces of all the Famous Painters who are now living, and the other with the Works of the greatest Masters that are dead.

On the side of the _Living_, I saw several Persons busy in Drawing, Colouring, and Designing; on the side of the _Dead_ Painters, I could not discover more than one Person at Work, who was exceeding slow in his Motions, and wonderfully nice in his Touches.

I was resolved to examine the several Artists that stood before me, and accordingly applied my self to the side of the _Living_. The first I observed at Work in this Part of the Gallery was VANITY, with his Hair tied behind him in a Ribbon, and dressed like a _Frenchman_. All the Faces he drew were very remarkable for their Smiles, and a certain smirking Air which he bestowed indifferently on every Age and Degree of either Sex. The _Toujours Gai_ appeared even in his Judges, Bishops, and Privy-Counsellors: In a word all his Men were _Petits Maitres_, and all his Women _Coquets_. The Drapery of his Figures was extreamly well-suited to his Faces, and was made up of all the glaring Colours that could be mixt together; every Part of the Dress was in a Flutter, and endeavoured to distinguish itself above the rest.

On the left Hand of VANITY stood a laborious Workman, who I found was his humble Admirer, and copied after him. He was dressed like a _German_, and had a very hard Name, that sounded something like STUPIDITY.

The third Artist that I looked over was FANTASQUE, dressed like a Venetian Scaramouch. He had an excellent Hand at a _Chimera_, and dealt very much in Distortions and Grimaces: He would sometimes affright himself with the Phantoms that flowed from his Pencil. In short, the most elaborate of his Pieces was at best but a terrifying Dream; and one could say nothing more of his finest Figures, than that they were agreeable Monsters.

The fourth Person I examined was very remarkable for his hasty Hand, which left his Pictures so unfinished, that the Beauty in the Picture (which was designed to continue as a monument of it to Posterity) faded sooner than in the Person after whom it was drawn. He made so much haste to dispatch his Business, that he neither gave himself time to clean his Pencils, [nor [1]] mix his Colours. The Name of this expeditious Workman was AVARICE.

Not far from this Artist I saw another of a quite different Nature, who was dressed in the Habit of a _Dutchman_, and known by the Name of INDUSTRY. His Figures were wonderfully laboured; If he drew the Portraiture of a man, he did not omit a single Hair in his Face; if the Figure of a Ship, there was not a Rope among the Tackle that escaped him. He had likewise hung a great Part of the Wall with Night-pieces, that seemed to shew themselves by the Candles which were lighted up in several Parts of them; and were so inflamed by the Sun-shine which accidentally fell upon them, that at first sight I could scarce forbear crying out, _Fire_.

The five foregoing Artists were the most considerable on this Side the Gallery; there were indeed several others whom I had not time to look into. One of them, however, I could not forbear observing, who was very busie in retouching the finest Pieces, tho' he produced no Originals of his own. His Pencil aggravated every Feature that was before over-charged, loaded every Defect, and poisoned every Colour it touched. Though this workman did so much Mischief on the Side of the Living, he never turned his Eye towards that of the Dead. His Name was ENVY.

Having taken a cursory View of one Side of the Gallery, I turned my self to that which was filled by the Works of those great Masters that were dead; when immediately I fancied my self standing before a Multitude of Spectators, and thousands of Eyes looking upon me at once; for all before me appeared so like Men and Women, that I almost forgot they were Pictures. _Raphael's_ Figures stood in one Row, _Titian's_ in another, _Guido Rheni's_ in a third. One Part of the Wall was peopled by _Hannibal Carrache_, another by _Correggio_, and another by _Rubens_. To be short, there was not a great Master among the Dead who had not contributed to the Embellishment of this Side of the Gallery. The Persons that owed their Being to these several Masters, appeared all of them to be real and alive, and differed among one another only in the Variety of their Shapes, Complexions, and Cloaths; so that they looked like different Nations of the same Species.

Observing an old Man (who was the same Person I before mentioned, as the only Artist that was at work on this Side of the Gallery) creeping up and down from one Picture to another, and retouching all the fine Pieces that stood before me, I could not but be very attentive to all his Motions. I found his Pencil was so very light, that it worked imperceptibly, and after a thousand Touches, scarce produced any visible Effect in the Picture on which he was employed. However, as he busied himself incessantly, and repeated Touch after Touch without Rest or Intermission, he wore off insensibly every little disagreeable Gloss that hung upon a Figure. He also added such a beautiful Brown to the Shades, and Mellowness to the Colours, that he made every Picture appear more perfect than when it came fresh from [the [2]] Master's Pencil. I could not forbear looking upon the Face of this ancient Workman, and immediately, by the long Lock of Hair upon his Forehead, discovered him to be TIME.

Whether it were because the Thread of my Dream was at an End I cannot tell, but upon my taking a Survey of this imaginary old Man, my Sleep left me.

C.

[Footnote 1: or]

[Footnote 2: its]

* * * * *

No. 84. Wednesday, June 6, 1711. Steele.

'... Quis talia fando
Myrmidonum Dolopumve aut duri miles Ulyssei
Temperet a Lachrymis?'

Virg.

Looking over the old Manuscript wherein the private Actions of _Pharamond_ [1] are set down by way of Table-Book. I found many things which gave me great Delight; and as human Life turns upon the same Principles and Passions in all Ages, I thought it very proper to take Minutes of what passed in that Age, for the Instruction of this. The Antiquary, who lent me these Papers, gave me a Character of _Eucrate_, the Favourite of _Pharamond_, extracted from an Author who lived in that Court. The Account he gives both of the Prince and this his faithful Friend, will not be improper to insert here, because I may have Occasion to mention many of their Conversations, into which these Memorials of them may give Light.

'_Pharamond_, when he had a Mind to retire for an Hour or two from the
Hurry of Business and Fatigue of Ceremony, made a Signal to _Eucrate_,
by putting his Hand to his Face, placing his Arm negligently on a
Window, or some such Action as appeared indifferent to all the rest of
the Company. Upon such Notice, unobserved by others, (for their entire
Intimacy was always a Secret) _Eucrate_ repaired to his own Apartment
to receive the King. There was a secret Access to this Part of the
Court, at which _Eucrate_ used to admit many whose mean Appearance in
the Eyes of the ordinary Waiters and Door-keepers made them be
repulsed from other Parts of the Palace. Such as these were let in
here by Order of _Eucrate_, and had Audiences of _Pharamond_. This
Entrance _Pharamond_ called _The Gate of the Unhappy_, and the Tears
of the Afflicted who came before him, he would say were Bribes
received by _Eucrate_; for _Eucrate_ had the most compassionate Spirit
of all Men living, except his generous Master, who was always kindled
at the least Affliction which was communicated to him. In the Regard
for the Miserable, _Eucrate_ took particular Care, that the common
Forms of Distress, and the idle Pretenders to Sorrow, about Courts,
who wanted only Supplies to Luxury, should never obtain Favour by his
Means: But the Distresses which arise from the many inexplicable
Occurrences that happen among Men, the unaccountable Alienation of
Parents from their Children, Cruelty of Husbands to Wives, Poverty
occasioned from Shipwreck or Fire, the falling out of Friends, or such
other terrible Disasters, to which the Life of Man is exposed; In
Cases of this Nature, _Eucrate_ was the Patron; and enjoyed this Part
of the Royal Favour so much without being envied, that it was never
inquired into by whose Means, what no one else cared for doing, was
brought about.

'One Evening when _Pharamond_ came into the Apartment of _Eucrate_, he
found him extremely dejected; upon which he asked (with a Smile which
was natural to him)

"What, is there any one too miserable to be relieved by _Pharamond_,
that _Eucrate_ is melancholy?

I fear there is, answered the Favourite; a Person without, of a good
Air, well Dressed, and tho' a Man in the Strength of his Life, seems
to faint under some inconsolable Calamity: All his Features seem
suffused with Agony of Mind; but I can observe in him, that it is
more inclined to break away in Tears than Rage. I asked him what he
would have; he said he would speak to _Pharamond_. I desired his
Business; he could hardly say to me, _Eucrate_, carry me to the
King, my Story is not to be told twice, I fear I shall not be able
to speak it at all."

_Pharamond_ commanded _Eucrate_ to let him enter; he did so, and the
Gentleman approached the King with an Air which spoke [him under the
greatest Concern in what Manner to demean himself. [2]] The King, who
had a quick Discerning, relieved him from the Oppression he was under;
and with the most beautiful Complacency said to him,

"Sir, do not add to that Load of Sorrow I see in your Countenance,
the Awe of my Presence: Think you are speaking to your Friend; if
the Circumstances of your Distress will admit of it, you shall find
me so."

To whom the Stranger:

"Oh excellent _Pharamond_, name not a Friend to the unfortunate
_Spinamont_. I had one, but he is dead by my own Hand; [3] but, oh
_Pharamond_, tho' it was by the Hand of _Spinamont_, it was by the
Guilt of _Pharamond_. I come not, oh excellent Prince, to implore
your Pardon; I come to relate my Sorrow, a Sorrow too great for
human Life to support: From henceforth shall all Occurrences appear
Dreams or short Intervals of Amusement, from this one Affliction
which has seiz'd my very Being: Pardon me, oh _Pharamond_, if my
Griefs give me Leave, that I lay before you, in the Anguish of a
wounded Mind, that you, good as you are, are guilty of the generous
Blood spilt this Day by this unhappy Hand: Oh that it had perished
before that Instant!"

Here the Stranger paused, and recollecting his Mind, after some little
Meditation, he went on in a calmer Tone and Gesture as follows.

"There is an Authority due to Distress; and as none of human Race is
above the Reach of Sorrow, none should be above the Hearing the
Voice of it: I am sure _Pharamond_ is not. Know then, that I have
this Morning unfortunately killed in a Duel, the Man whom of all Men
living I most loved. I command my self too much in your royal
Presence, to say, _Pharamond_, give me my Friend! _Pharamond_ has
taken him from me! I will not say, shall the merciful _Pharamond_
destroy his own Subjects? Will the Father of his Country murder his
People? But, the merciful _Pharamond_ does destroy his Subjects, the
Father of his Country does murder his People. Fortune is so much the
Pursuit of Mankind, that all Glory and Honour is in the Power of a
Prince, because he has the Distribution of their Fortunes. It is
therefore the Inadvertency, Negligence, or Guilt of Princes, to let
any thing grow into Custom which is against their Laws. A Court can
make Fashion and Duty walk together; it can never, without the Guilt
of a Court, happen, that it shall not be unfashionable to do what is
unlawful. But alas! in the Dominions of _Pharamond_, by the Force of
a Tyrant Custom, which is mis-named a Point of Honour, the Duellist
kills his Friend whom he loves; and the Judge condemns the Duellist,
while he approves his Behaviour. Shame is the greatest of all Evils;
what avail Laws, when Death only attends the Breach of them, and
Shame Obedience to them? As for me, oh _Pharamond_, were it possible
to describe the nameless Kinds of Compunctions and Tendernesses I
feel, when I reflect upon the little Accidents in our former
Familiarity, my Mind swells into Sorrow which cannot be resisted
enough to be silent in the Presence of _Pharamond_."

With that he fell into a Flood of Tears, and wept aloud.

"Why should not _Pharamond_ hear the Anguish he only can relieve
others from in Time to come? Let him hear from me, what they feel
who have given Death by the false Mercy of his Administration, and
form to himself the Vengeance call'd for by those who have perished
by his Negligence.'

R.

[Footnote 1: See No. 76. Steele uses the suggestion of the Romance of 'Pharamond' whose

'whole Person,' says the romancer, 'was of so excellent a composition,
and his words so Great and so Noble that it was very difficult to deny
him reverence,'

to connect with a remote king his ideas of the duty of a Court. Pharamond's friend Eucrate, whose name means Power well used, is an invention of the Essayist, as well as the incident and dialogue here given, for an immediate good purpose of his own, which he pleasantly contrives in imitation of the style of the romance. In the original, Pharamond is said to be

'truly and wholly charming, as well for the vivacity and delicateness
of his spirit, accompanied with a perfect knowledge of all Sciences,
as for a sweetness which is wholly particular to him, and a
complacence which &c ... All his inclinations are in such manner fixed
upon virtue, that no consideration nor passion can disturb him; and in
those extremities into which his ill fortune hath cast him, he hath
never let pass any occasion to do good.'

That is why Steele chose Pharamond for his king in this and a preceding paper.]

[Footnote 2: the utmost sense of his Majesty without the ability to express it.]

[Footnote 3: Spinamont is Mr. Thornhill, who, on the 9th of May, 1711, killed in a duel Sir Cholmomleley Dering, Baronet, of Kent. Mr. Thornhill was tried and acquitted; but two months afterwards, assassinated by two men, who, as they stabbed him, bade him remember Sir Cholmondeley Dering. Steele wrote often and well against duelling, condemning it in the 'Tatler' several times, in the 'Spectator' several times, in the 'Guardian' several times, and even in one of his plays.]

* * * * *

No. 85. Thursday, June 7, 1711. Addison.

'Interdum speciosa locis, morataque recte
Fabula nullius Veneris, sine pondere et Arte,
Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,
Quàm versus inopes rerum, nugaeque canoræ.'

Hor.

It is the Custom of the _Mahometans_, if they see any printed or written Paper upon the Ground, to take it up and lay it aside carefully, as not knowing but it may contain some Piece of their _Alcoran_. I must confess I have so much of the _Mussulman_ in me, That I cannot forbear looking into every printed Paper which comes in my Way, under whatsoever despicable Circumstances it may appear; for as no mortal Author, in the ordinary Fate and Vicissitude of Things, knows to what Use his Works may, some time or other, be applied, a Man may often meet with very celebrated Names in a Paper of Tobacco. I have lighted my Pipe more than once with the Writings of a Prelate; and know a Friend of mine, who, for these several Years, has converted the Essays of a Man of Quality into a kind of Fringe for his Candlesticks. I remember in particular, after having read over a Poem of an Eminent Author on a Victory, I met with several Fragments of it upon the next rejoicing Day, which had been employ'd in Squibs and Crackers, and by that means celebrated its Subject in a double Capacity. I once met with a Page of Mr. _Baxter_ under a _Christmas_ Pye. Whether or no the Pastry-Cook had made use of it through Chance or Waggery, for the Defence of that superstitious _Viande_, I know not; but upon the Perusal of it, I conceived so good an Idea of the Author's Piety, that I bought the whole Book. I have often profited by these accidental Readings, and have sometimes found very Curious Pieces, that are either out of Print, or not to be met with in the Shops of our _London Booksellers_. For this Reason, when my Friends take a Survey of my Library, they are very much surprised to find, upon the Shelf of Folios, two long Band-Boxes standing upright among my Books, till I let them see that they are both of them lined with deep Erudition and abstruse Literature. I might likewise mention a Paper-Kite, from which I have received great Improvement; and a Hat-Case, which I would not exchange for all the Beavers in _Great-Britain_. This my inquisitive Temper, or rather impertinent Humour of prying into all Sorts of Writing, with my natural Aversion to Loquacity, give me a good deal of Employment when I enter any House in the Country; for I cannot for my Heart leave a Room, before I have thoroughly studied the Walls of it, and examined the several printed Papers which are usually pasted upon them. The last Piece that I met with upon this Occasion gave me a most exquisite Pleasure. My Reader will think I am not serious, when I acquaint him that the Piece I am going to speak of was the old Ballad of the _Two Children in the Wood_, which is one of the darling Songs of the common People, and has been the Delight of most _Englishmen_ in some Part of their Age.

This Song is a plain simple Copy of Nature, destitute of the Helps and Ornaments of Art. The Tale of it is a pretty Tragical Story, and pleases for no other Reason but because it is a Copy of Nature. There is even a despicable Simplicity in the Verse; and yet because the Sentiments appear genuine and unaffected, they are able to move the Mind of the most polite Reader with Inward Meltings of Humanity and Compassion. The Incidents grow out of the Subject, and are such as [are the most proper to excite Pity; for [1]] which Reason the whole Narration has something in it very moving, notwithstanding the Author of it (whoever he was) has deliver'd it in such an abject Phrase and Poorness of Expression, that the quoting any part of it would look like a Design of turning it into Ridicule. But though the Language is mean, the Thoughts [, as I have before said,] from one end to the other are [natural, [2]] and therefore cannot fail to please those who are not Judges of Language, or those who, notwithstanding they are Judges of Language, have a [true [3]] and unprejudiced Taste of Nature. The Condition, Speech, and Behaviour of the dying Parents, with the Age, Innocence, and Distress of the Children, are set forth in such tender Circumstances, that it is impossible for a [Reader of common Humanity [4]] not to be affected with them. As for the Circumstance of the _Robin-red-breast_, it is indeed a little Poetical Ornament; and to shew [the Genius of the Author [5]] amidst all his Simplicity, it is just the same kind of Fiction which one of the greatest of the _Latin_ Poets has made use of upon a parallel Occasion; I mean that Passage in _Horace_, where he describes himself when he was a Child, fallen asleep in a desart Wood, and covered with Leaves by the Turtles that took pity on him.

Me fabulosa Vulture in Apulo,
Altricis extra limen Apuliæ,
Ludo fatigatumque somno
Fronde novâ puerum palumbes
Texere ...

I have heard that the late Lord _Dorset_, who had the greatest Wit temper'd with the greatest [Candour, [6]] and was one of the finest Criticks as well as the best Poets of his Age, had a numerous collection of old _English_ Ballads, and took a particular Pleasure in the Reading of them. I can affirm the same of Mr. _Dryden_, and know several of the most refined Writers of our present Age who are of the same Humour.

I might likewise refer my Reader to _Moliere's_ Thoughts on this Subject, as he has expressed them in the Character of the _Misanthrope_; but those only who are endowed with a true Greatness of Soul and Genius can divest themselves of the little Images of Ridicule, and admire Nature in her Simplicity and Nakedness. As for the little conceited Wits of the Age, who can only shew their Judgment by finding Fault, they cannot be supposed to admire these Productions [which [7]] have nothing to recommend them but the Beauties of Nature, when they do not know how to relish even those Compositions that, with all the Beauties of Nature, have also the additional Advantages of Art. [8]

[Footnote 1: _Virgil_ himself would have touched upon, had the like Story been told by that Divine Poet. For]

[Footnote 2: wonderfully natural]

[Footnote 3: genuine]

[Footnote 4: goodnatured Reader]

[Footnote 5: what a Genius the Author was Master of]

[Footnote 6: Humanity]

[Footnote 7: that]

[Footnote 8: Addison had incurred much ridicule from the bad taste of the time by his papers upon Chevy Chase, though he had gone some way to meet it by endeavouring to satisfy the Dennises of 'that polite age,' with authorities from Virgil. Among the jests was a burlesque criticism of Tom Thumb. What Addison thought of the 'little images of Ridicule' set up against him, the last paragraph of this Essay shows, but the collation of texts shows that he did flinch a little. We now see how he modified many expressions in the reprint of this Essay upon the 'Babes in the Wood'.]

* * * * *

No. 86. Friday, June 8, 1711. Addison.

'Heu quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu!'

Ovid.

There are several Arts which [all Men are [1]] in some measure [Masters [2]] of, without having been at the Pains of learning them. Every one that speaks or reasons is a Grammarian and a Logician, tho' he may be wholly unacquainted with the Rules of Grammar or Logick, as they are delivered in Books and Systems. In the same Manner, every one is in some Degree a Master of that Art which is generally distinguished by the Name of Physiognomy; and naturally forms to himself the Character or Fortune of a Stranger, from the Features and Lineaments of his Face. We are no sooner presented to any one we never saw before, but we are immediately struck with the Idea of a proud, a reserved, an affable, or a good-natured Man; and upon our first going into a Company of [Strangers, [3]] our Benevolence or Aversion, Awe or Contempt, rises naturally towards several particular Persons before we have heard them speak a single Word, or so much as know who they are.

Every Passion gives a particular Cast to the Countenance, and is apt to discover itself in some Feature or other. I have seen an Eye curse for half an Hour together, and an Eye-brow call a Man Scoundrel. Nothing is more common than for Lovers to complain, resent, languish, despair, and die in dumb Show. For my own part, I am so apt to frame a Notion of every Man's Humour or Circumstances by his Looks, that I have sometimes employed my self from _Charing-Cross_ to the _Royal-Exchange_ in drawing the Characters of those who have passed by me. When I see a Man with a sour rivell'd Face, I cannot forbear pitying his Wife; and when I meet with an open ingenuous Countenance, think on the Happiness of his Friends, his Family, and Relations.