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though the gentlemen on the stage had very much contributed to the beauty of the grove, by walking up and down between the trees, I must own I was not a little astonished to see a well-dressed young fellow, in a full-bottomed wig, appear in the midst of the sea, and without any visible concern taking snuff.

choice, one of the young lovers very luckily bethought himself of adding a supernume rary lace to his liveries, which had so good an effect, that he married her the very week after.

The usual conversation of ordinary wo men very much cherishes this natural weakness of being taken with outside and appearance. Talk of a new-married couple, and you immediately hear whether they keep their coach and six, or eat in plate. Mention the name of an absent lady, and it

'I shall only observe one thing further, in which both dramas agree; which is, that by the squeak of their voices the heroes of each are eunuchs; and as the wit in both pieces is equal, I must prefer the perform-is ten to one but you learn something of her ance of Mr. Powell, because it is in our own language. 'I am, &c.'

No. 15.] Saturday, March, 17, 1710-11.
Parva leves capiunt animos

gown and petticoat. A ball is a great help to discourse, and a birth-day furnishes conversation for a twelvemonth after. A furbelow of precious stones, a hat buttoned with a diamond, a brocade waistcoat or petticoat, are standing topics. In short, they consider only the drapery of the species, and never cast away a thought on those Ovid, Ars Am. i. 159. ornaments of the mind that make persons Light minds are pleased with trifles. illustrious in themselves, and useful to WHEN I was in France, I used to gaze others. When women are thus perpetually with great astonishment at the splendid dazzling one another's imaginations, and equipages, and party-coloured habits, of filling their heads with nothing but colours, that fantastic nation. I was one day in par- it is no wonder that they are more attentive ticular contemplating a lady that sat in a to the superficial parts of life, than the solid coach adorned with gilded Cupids, and and substantial blessings of it. A girl, who finely painted with the loves of Venus and has been trained up in this kind of converAdonis. The coach was drawn by six milk-sation, is in danger of every embroidered white horses, and loaded behind with the same number of powdered footmen. Just before the lady were a couple of beautiful pages, that were stuck among the harness, and by their gay dresses and smiling features, looked like the elder brothers of the little boys that were carved and painted in every corner of the coach.

The lady was the unfortunate Cleanthe, who afterwards gave an occasion to a pretty melancholy novel. She had, for several years, received the addresses of a gentleman, whom, after a long and intimate acquaintance, she forsook, upon the account of this shining equipage, which had been offered to her by one of great riches, but a crazy constitution. The circumstances in which I saw her, were, it seems, the disguises only of a broken heart, and a kind of pageantry to cover distress, for in two months after, she was carried to her grave with the same pomp and magnificence, being sent thither partly by the loss of one lover, and partly by the possession of another.

I have often reflected with myself on this unaccountable humour in womankind, of being smitten with every thing that is showy and superficial; and on the numberless evils that befal the sex, from this light fantastical disposition. I myself remember a young lady that was very warmly solicited by a couple of importunate rivals, who for several months together, did all they could to recommend themselves, by complacency of behaviour, and agreeableness of conversation. At length when the competition was doubtful, and the la ly undetermined in her

coat that comes in her way. A pair of fringed gloves may be her ruin. In a word, lace and ribands, silver and gold galloons, with the like glittering gewgaws, are so many lures to women of weak minds and low educations, and when artificially displayed, are able to fetch down the most airy coquette from the wildest of her flights and rambles.

True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noise; it arises, in the first place from the enjoyment of one's self; and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions; it loves shade and solitude, and naturally haunts groves and fountains, fields and meadows: in short, it feels every thing it wants within itself, and receives no addition from multitudes of witnesses and spectators. On the contrary, false happiness loves to be in a crowd, and to draw the eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive any satisfaction from the applauses which she gives herself; but from the admiration which she raises in others. She flourishes in courts and palaces, theatres and assemblies, and has no existence but when she is looked upon.

Aurelia, though a woman of great quality, delights in the privacy of a country life, and passes away a great part of her time in her own walks and gardens. Her husband, who is her bosom friend and companion in her solitudes, has been in love with her ever since he knew her. They both abound with good sense, consummate virtue, and a mutual esteem; and are a perpetual entertainment to one another. Their family is under

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so regular an economy, in its hours of devotion and repast, employment and diversion, that it looks like a little commonwealth within itself. They often go into company, that they may return with the greater delight to one another; and sometimes live in town, not to enjoy it so properly, as to grow weary of it, that they may renew in themselves the relish of a country life. By this means they are happy in each other, beloved by their children, adored by their servants, and are become the envy, or rather the delight of all that know them.

I HAVE received a letter desiring me to be very satirical upon the little muff that is now in fashion; another informs me of a pair of silver garters buckled below the knee, that have been lately seen at the Rainbow coffee-house in Fleet-street; a third sends me a heavy complaint against fringed gloves. To be brief, there is scarce an ornament of either sex which one or other of my correspondents has not inveighed against with some bitterness, and recommended to my observation. I must, therefore, once for all, inform my readers, How different to this is the life of Fulvia! that it is not my intention to sink the digShe considers her husband as her steward,nity of this my paper, with reflections upon and looks upon discretion and good house- red heels or top-knots, but rather to enter wifery as little domestic virtues, unbecom-into the passions of mankind, and to correct ing a woman of quality. She thinks life lost in her own family, and fancies herself out of the world, when she is not in the ring, the playhouse, or the drawing-room. She lives in a perpetual motion of body, and restlessness of thought, and is never easy in any one place, when she thinks there is more company in another, The missing of an opera the first night, would be more afflicting to her than the death of a child. She pities all the valuable part of her own sex, and calls every woman of a prudent, modest, and retired life, a poor-spirited, unpolished creature. What a mortification would it to be to Fulvia, if she knew that her setting herself to view is but exposing herself, and that she grows contemptible by being conspicuous?

those depraved sentiments that give birth to all those little extravagancies which appear in their outward dress and behaviour. Foppish and fantastic ornaments are only indications of vice, not criminal in themselves. Extinguish vanity in the mind, and you naturally retrench the little superfluities of garniture and equipage. The blos soms will fall of themselves when the root that nourishes them is destroyed.

I shall, therefore, as I have said, apply my remedies to the first seeds and principles of an affected dress, without descending to the dress itself; though at the same time I must own that I have thought of creating an officer under me, to be entitled, The Censor of small Wares,' and of allotting him one day in the week for the I cannot conclude my paper without ob-execution of such his office. An operator serving, that Virgil has very finely touched of this nature might act under me, with the upon this female passion for dress and same regard as a surgeon to a physician; show, in the character of Camilla; who, the one might be employed in healing those though she seems to have shaken off all blotches and tumours which break out in the other weaknesses of her sex, is still de- the body, while the other is sweetening the scribed as a woman in this particular. The blood, and rectifying the constitution. To poet tells us that after having made a great speak truly, the young people of both sexes slaughter of the enemy, she unfortunately are so wonderfully apt to shoot out into long cast her eye on a Trojan who wore an em- swords or sweeping trains, bushy headbroidered tunic, a beautiful coat of mail, dresses or full-bottomed periwigs; with with a mantle of the finest purple. A several other incumbrances of dress, that golden bow,' says he, hung upon his shoul- they stand in need of being pruned very der; his garment was buckled with a golden frequently, lest they should be oppressed clasp, and his head covered with a helmet with ornaments, and over-run with the luxof the same shining metal.' The Amazon uriance of their habits. I am much in immediately singled out this well-dressed doubt whether I should give the preferwarrior, being seized with a woman's long-ence to a quaker that is trimmed close, and ing for the pretty trappings that he was adorned with:

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almost cut to the quick, or to a beau that is loaden with such a redundance of excrescences. I must therefore desire my correspondents to let me know how they apthe erecting of such a petty censorship may prove my project, and whether they think not turn to the emolument of the public, for I would not do any thing of this nature rashly and without advice.

There is another set of correspondents to whom I must address myself in the second place; I mean such as fill their letters with private scandal, and black accounts of particular persons and families. The world is so full of ill nature, that I have lampoons sent me by people who cannot spell, and

SIR,

To the Spectator.

satires composed by those who scarce know | prising story which he does not know how how to write. By the last post in particu- to tell, if he has discovered any epidemica. lar, I received a packet of scandal which vice which has escaped my observation, or is not legible; and have a whole bundle of has heard of any uncommon virtue which letters in women's hands, that are full of he would desire to publish; in short, if he blots and calumnies, insomuch, that when has any materials that can furnish out an I see the name Calia, Phillis, Pastora, or innocent diversion, I shall promise him my the like, at the bottom of a scrawl, I con- best assistance in the working of them up clude of course, that it brings me some ac- for a public entertainment. count of a fallen virgin, a faithless wife, or This paper my reader will find was inan amorous widow. I must therefore in- tended for an answer to a multitude of corform these my correspondents, that it is respondents; but I hope he will pardon me not my design to be a publisher of intrigues if I single out one of them in particular, and cuckoldoms, or to bring little infamous who has made me so very humble a request, stories out of their present lurking-holes that I cannot forbear complying with it. into broad day-light. If I attack the vicious, I shall only set upon them in a body; and will not be provoked by the worst usage I can receive from others, to make an example of any particular criminal. In short I have so much of a drawcansir in me, that I shall pass over a single foe to charge whole armies. It is not Lais nor Silenus, but the harlot and the drunkard, whom I shall endeavour to expose; and shall consider the crime as it appears in the species, not as it is circumstanced in an individual. I think it was Caligula, who wished the whole city of Rome had but one neck, that he might behead them at a blow. I shall do, out of humanity, what that emperor would have done in the cruelty of his temper, and aim every stroke at a collective body of offenders. At the same time I am very sensible that nothing spreads a paper like private calumny and defamation; but as my speculations are not under this necessity, they are not exposed to this temptation.

March 15, 1710-11. 'I am at present so unfortunate as to have nothing to do but to mind my own business; and therefore beg of you that you will be pleased to put me into some small post under you. I observe that you have appointed your printer and publisher to receive letters and advertisements for the city of London, and shall think myself very much honoured by you, if you will appoint me to take in letters and advertisements for the city of Westminster and duchy of Lancaster. Though I cannot promise to fill such an employment with sufficient abili ties, I will endeavour to make up with in dustry and fidelity what I want in parts and genius. 'I am, Sir, "Your most obedient servant, "CHARLES LILLIE."

-Tetrum ante omnia vultum.
-A visage rough,
Deform'd, unfeatur'd.

C

Juv. Sat. x. 191.

Dryden.

In the next place I must apply myself to my party correspondents, who are continu- No. 17.] Tuesday, March 20, 1710-11. ally teasing me to take notice of one another's proceedings. How often am I asked by both sides, if it is possible for me to be an unconcerned spectator of the rogueries that are committed by the party which is opposite to him that writes the letter. SINCE Our persons are not of our own About two days since, I was reproached making, when they are such as appear dewith an old Grecian law, that forbids any fective or uncomely, it is, methinks, an man to stand as a neuter, or a looker-on in honest and laudable fortitude to dare to be the divisions of his country. However, as ugly; at least to keep ourselves from being I am very sensible my paper would lose abashed with a consciousness of imperfecits whole effect, should it run out into the tions which we cannot help, and in which outrages of a party, I shall take care to there is no guilt. I would not defend a keep clear of every thing which looks that haggard beau, for passing away much time way. If I can any way assuage private in- at a glass, and giving softness and languishflammations, or allay public ferments, I ing graces to deformity: all I intend is, that shall apply myself to it with my utmost we ought to be contented with our counte· endeavours: but will never let my heart nance and shape, so far as never to give reproach me with having done any thing ourselves an uneasy reflection on that sub towards increasing those feuds and animosi-ject. It is to the ordinary people, who are ties that extinguish religion, deface government, and make a nation miserable.

What I have said under the three foregoing heads will, I am afraid, very much retrench the number of my correspondents. I shall therefore acquaint my reader, that if he has started any hint which he is not able to pursue, if he has met with any sur

not accustomed to make very proper remarks on any occasion, matter of great jest, if a man enters with a prominent pair of shoulders into an assembly, or is distinguished by an expansion of mouth, or obli quity of aspect. It is happy for a man that has any of those oddnesses about him, if he can be as merry upon himself, as

others are apt to be upon that occasion. When he can possess himself with such a cheerfulness, women and children, who are at first frighted at him, will afterwards be as much pleased with him. As it is barbarous in others to rally him for natural defects, it is extremely agreeable when he can jest upon himself for them.

There have arose in this university (long since you left us without saying any thing) several of these inferior hebdomadal socie ties, as the Punning club, the Witty club, and, amongst the rest, the Handsome club; as a burlesque upon which, a certain merry species, that seem to have come into the world in masquerade, for some years last past have associated themselves together, and assumed the name of the Ugly club. This ill-favoured fraternity consists of a president and twelve fellows; the choice of which is not confined by patent to any particular foundation, (as St. John's men would have the world believe, and have therefore erected a separate society within themselves,) but liberty is left to elect from any school in Great Britain, provided the candidates be within the rules of the club, as set forth in a table, entitled, 'The Act of Deformity;' a clause or two of which I shall transmit to you.

I. That no person whatsoever shall be admitted without a visible queerity in his aspect, or peculiar cast of countenance; of which the president and officers for the time being are to determine, and the pre sident to have the casting voice.

Madam Maintenon's first husband* was a hero in this kind, and has drawn many pleasantries from the irregularity of his shape, which he describes as very much resembling the letter Z. He diverts himself likewise by representing to his reader the make of an engine and pully, with which he used to take off his hat. When there happens to be any thing ridiculous in a visage, and the owner of it thinks it an aspect of dignity, he must be of very great quality to be exempt from raillery. The best expedient therefore is to be pleasant upon himself. Prince Harry and Falstaff, in Shakspeare, have carried the ridicule upon fat and lean as far as it will go. Falstaff is humourously called woolsack, bedpresser and hill of flesh; Harry, a starveling, an elves-skin, a sheath, a bow-case, and a tuck. There is, in several incidents of the conversation between them, the jest still kept up upon the II. That a singular regard be had upon person. Great tenderness and sensibility examination, to the gibbosity of the gentlein this point is one of the greatest weak-men that offer themselves as founders' nesses of self-love. For my own part, I kinsmen; or to the obliquity of their figure, am a little unhappy in the mould of my in what sort soever. face, which is not quite so long as it is III. That if the quantity of any man's broad. Whether this might not partly nose be eminently miscalculated, whether arise from my opening my mouth much as to the length or breadth, he shall have seldomer than other people, and by conse-a just pretence to be elected. quence not so much lengthening the fibres of my visage, I am not at leisure to determine. However it be, I have been often put out of countenance by the shortness of my face, and was formerly at great pains of concealing it by wearing a periwig with a high fore-top, and letting my beard grow. But now I have thoroughly got over this delicacy, and could be contented with a much shorter, provided it might qualify me for a member of the merry club, which the following letter gives me an account of. I have received it from Oxford, and as it abounds with the spirit of mirth and good humour, which is natural to that place, I shall set it down word for word as it came to me.

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Lastly, That if there shall be two or more competitors for the same vacancy, cæteris paribus, he that has the thickest skin to have the preference.

Every fresh member, upon the first night, is to entertain the company with a dish of codfish, and a speech in praise of

sop, whose portraiture they have in full proportion, or rather disproportion, over the chimney; and their design is, as soon as their funds are sufficient, to purchase the heads of Thersites, Duns Scotus, Scarron, Hudibras, and the old gentleman in Oldham, with all the celebrated ill faces of antiquity, as furniture for the club-room.

As they have always been professed admirers of the other sex, so they unanimously declare that they will give all possible encouragement to such as will take the benefit of the statute, though none yet have appeared to do it.

The worthy president who is their most devoted champion, has lately shown me two copies of verses, composed by a gentleman of this society; the first a congratulatory ode, inscribed to Mrs. Touchwood, upon the loss of her two fore-teeth; the other a panegyric_upon Mrs. Andiron's left shoulder.

Mrs. Vizard, (he says) since the small-pox, is grown tolerably ugly, and a top toast in the club; but I never heard him so lavish of his fine things.

as upon old Nell Trot, who constantly offi- | ciates at their table; her he even adores and extols as the very counterpart of mother Shipton; in short, Nell, (says he) is one of the extraordinary works of nature; but as for complexion, shape, and features, so valued by others, they are all mere outside and symmetry, which is his aversion. Give me leave to add, that the president is a facetious pleasant gentleman, and never more so, than when he has got (as he calls them) his dear mummers about him; and he often protests it does him good to meet a fellow with a right genuine grimace in his air (which is so agreeable in the generality of the French nation;) and, as an instance of his sincerity in this particular, he gave me a sight of a list in his pocket-book of all this class, who for these five years have fallen under his observation, with himself at the head of them, and in the rear (as one of a promising and improving aspect,) Sir,

Your obliged and humble servant, 'ALEXANDER CARBUNCLE. "Oxford, March 12, 1710,’

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did not understand.

Arsinoe was the first opera that gave us a taste of Italian music. The great success this opera met with produced some attempts of forming pieces upon Italian plans, which should give a more natural and reasonable entertainment than what can be met with in the elaborate trifles of that nation. This alarmed the poetasters and fiddlers of the town, who were used to and fiddlers of the town, who were used to deal in a more ordinary kind of ware; and therefore laid down an established rule, which is received as such to this day, That nothing is capable of being well set to music, that is not nonsense.

This maxim was no sooner received, but we immediately fell to translating the Italian operas; and as there was no great danger of hurting the sense of these extraordinary pieces, our authors would often

* Arsinoe, queen of Cyprus, an opera, after the Italian manner, by Thomas Clayton. It was first performed at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1707.

make words of their own, which were entirely foreign to the meaning of the pas sages they pretended to translate; their chief care being to make the numbers of the English verse answer to those of the Ita lian, that both of them might go to the same tune. Thus the famous song in Ca milla:

'Barbara si t' intendo, &c.

'Barbarous woman, yes, I know your meaning;' which expresses the resentments of an an gry lover, was translated into that English lamentation:

'Frail are a lover's hopes,' &c.

And it was pleasant enough to see the most refined persons of the British nation dying away and languishing to notes that were filled with a spirit of rage and indignation. It happened also very frequently where the sense was rightly translated, the necessary transposition of words, which were drawn out of the phrase of one tongue into that of another, made the music appear very absurd in one tongue that was very natural in the other. I remember an Italian verse that ran thus, word for word:

'And turn'd my rage into pity;" which the English for rhyme sake translated,

'And into pity turn'd my rage;' By this means the soft notes that were adapted to pity in the Italian, fell upon the word rage in the English; and the angry sounds that were turned to rage in the original, were made to express pity in the translation. It oftentimes happened, likewise, that the finest notes in the air fell upon the most insignificant words in the sentence. I have known the word Ana been entertained with many a melodious pursued through the whole gamut, have The, and have heard the most beautiful graces, quavers, and divisions, bestowed upon Then, For, and From; to the eternal honour of our English particles.

The next step to our refinement was the introducing of Italian actors into our opera; who sung their parts in their own language, at the same time that our countrymen performed theirs in our native tongue. The Italian, and his slaves answered him in king or hero of the play generally spoke in English. The lover frequently made his in a language which she did not understand. court, and gained the heart of his princess, One would have thought it very difficult to have carried on dialogues after this manner without an interpreter between the persons that conversed together; but this was the state of the English stage for about three years.

At length the audience grew tired of understanding half the opera; and therefore to ease themselves entirely of the fatigue of thinking, have so ordered it at present,

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