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for the Pictish damsel, we have an easy chair prepared at the upper end of the table; which we doubt not but she will grace with a very hideous aspect, and “much better become the seat in the native and unaffected uncomeliness of her person, than with all the superficial airs of the pencil, which (as you have very ingeniously observed) vanish with a breath, and the most innocent adorer may deface the shrine with a salutation, and in the literal sense of our poets, snatch and imprint his balmy kisses, and devour her melting lips. In short, the only faces of the Pictish kind that will endure the weather, must be of Dr. Carbuncle’s die; though his, in truth, has cost him a world the painting; but then he boasts with Zeuxes, in aetermitatem fingo; and oft jocosely tells the fair ones, would they acquire colours that would stand kissing, they must no longer paint, but drink for a complexion: a maxim that in this our age has been pursued with no ill success; and has been as admirable in its effects, as the famous cosmetic mentioned in the Postman, and invented by the renowned British Hippocrates of the pestle and mortar; making the party, after a due course, rosy, hale, and airy; and the best and most approved receipt now extant, for the fever of the spirits. But to return to our female candidate, who, I understand is returned to herself, and will no longer hang out false colours; as she is the #. of her sex that has done us so great an honour, she will certainly in a very short time, both in prose and verse, be a lady of the most celebrated deformity now living, and meet with many admirers here as i. as herself. But being a long-headed gentlewoman, I am apt to imagine she has some further design than you have yet penetrated; and perhaps has more mind to the Spectator than any of his fraternity, as the person of all the world she could like for a paramour. And if so, really I cannot but applaud her choice, and should be glad, if it might lie in my power, to effect an amicable accommodation betwixt two faces of such different extremes, as the only possible expedient to mend the breed, and rectify the physiog: nomy of the family on both sides. And again, as she is a lady of a very fluent elocution, you need not fear that your first child o be born dumb, which otherwise you might have reason to be apprehensive of. To be plain with you, I can see nothing shocking in it; for though she has not a face like a john-apple, yet as a late friend of mine, who at sixty-five ventured on a lass of fifteen, very frequently in the remaining five years of his life gave me to understand, that as old as he then seemed, when they were first married he and his spouse could make but fourscore; so, may madam Hecatissa very justly allege hereafter, that as long-visaged as she may then be thought, upon their wedding-day Mr. Spectator and she had but half an ell of

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‘SIR,-You proposed in your Spectator of last Tuesday, Mr. Hobbs’s hypothesis for solving that very odd phaenomenon of laughter. You have made the hypothesis valuable by espousing it yourself ; for had it continued Mr. #. s, nobody would have minded it. Now here this perplexed case arises. A certain company laughed very heartily upon the reading of that very paper of yours; and the truth of it is, he must be a man of more than ordinary constancy that could stand out against so much comedy, and not do as we did. Now there are few men in the world so far lost to all good sense, as to look upon you to be a man in a state of folly “inferior to himself.”—Pray then how do you justify your hypothesis of laughter?

“Your most humble, Q. R.”

“Thursday, the 26th of the month of fools.

‘SIR,-In answer to your letter, I must desire you to recollect yourself; and you will find, that when you did me the honour to be so merry over my paper, you laughed at the idiot, the German courtier, the gaper, the merry-andrew, the haberdasher, the biter, the butt, and not at

* Your humble servant,


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banish that Mahometan custom, which had too much prevailed even in this island, of treating women as if they had no souls. I must do them the justice to say, that there seems to be nothing wanting to the finishing of these lovely pieces of human nature, besides the turning and applying their ambition properly, and the keeping them up to a sense of what is their true merit. Epictetus, that plain, honest philosopher, as little as he had of gallantry, appears to have understood them, as well as the lite St. Evremont, and has hit this point very luckily. “When young women,” says he, “arrive at a certain age, they hear themselves called Mistresses, and are made to believe that their only business is to o: the men; they immediately begin to dress, and place all their hopes in the adorning of their persons; it is therefore,’ continues he, “worth the while to endeavour by all means to make them sensible that the honour paid to them is only upon account of their conducting themselves with virtue, modesty, and discretion.”

‘Now, to pursue the matter yet further, and to render your cares for the improvement of the fair ones more effectual, I would propose a new method, like those applications which are said to convey their virtue by sympathy; and that is, that in order to embellish the mistress, you should give a new education to the lover, and teach the men not to be any longer dazzled by false charms and unreal beauty. I cannot but think that if our sex knew always how to place their esteem justly, the other would not be so often wanting to themselves in deserving it. For as the being enamoured with a woman of sense and virtue is an improvement to a man’s understanding and morals, and the passion is ennobled by the object which inspires it; so on the other side, the appearing amiable to a man of a wise and elegant mind, carries in itself no small degree of merit and accomplishment. I conclude, therefore, that one way to make the women yet more agreeable is, to make the men more virtuous. I am, sir, your most humble serwant, R. B.”

*o- * April 26th.

‘SIR,-Yours of Saturday last I read, not without some resentment; but I will suppose, when you say you expect an inundation of ribands and brocades, and to see many new vanities which the women will fall into upon a o: with France, that you ...?".only the unthinking part of our sex; and what methods can reduce them to reason is hard to imagine.

“But, sir, there are others yet, that your instructions might be of great use to, who, after their best endeavours, are sometimes at a loss to acquit themselves to a censorious world. I am far from thinking you can altogether disapprove of conversation between ladies and gentlemen, regulated by

the rules of honour and prudence; and have thought it an observation not ill-made, that where that was .." denied, the women lost their wit, and the men their good manners. It is, sure, from those improper liberties you mentioned, that a sort of undistinguishing people shall banish from their drawing-rooms the best-bred men in the world, and condemn those that do not. , Your stating this point might, I think, be of good use, as well as much oblige, sir, your admirer and most humble Servant, ANNA BELLA.”

No answer to this, till Anna Bella sends a description of those she calls the bestbred men in the world.

“MR. SPEctator, I am a gentleman who for many years last past have been well known to be truly splenetic, and that my spleen arises from having contracted so great a delicacy, by reading the best authors, and keeping the most refined company, that I cannot bear the least improo of language, or rusticity of behaviour.

ow, sir, I have ever looked upon this as a wise distemper; but by late observations find, that every heavy wretch, who has nothing to say, excuses his dulness by complainin the spleen. Nay, I saw the other day, two fellows in a tavern kitchen set up for it, call for a pint and pipes, and only by guzzling liquor, to each other's health, and by wafting smoke in each other's face, pretend to throw off the spleen. I appeal to you whether these dishonours are to be done to the distemper of the great and the polite. I beseech you, sir, to inform these fellows that they have not the spleen, because they cannot talk without the help of a glass at their mouths, or convey their meaning to each other without §e interposition of clouds. If you will not do this with all #. I assure you, for my part, I will wholly quit the disease, and for the future be merry with the vulgar. I am, sir, your humble servant.”

‘SIR,-This is to let you understand that I am a reformed Starer, and conceived a detestation for that practice from what you have writ upon the subject. But as you have been very severe upon the behaviour of us men at divine service, I hope you will not be so apparently partial to the women, as to let them go wholly unobserved. If they do everything that is possible to attract our eyes, are we more culpable than they, for looking at them? I happened last Sunday to be shut into a pew, which was full of young ladies in the bloom of youth and beauty. When the service began, I had not room to kneel at the confession, but as I stood kept my eyes from wandering as well as I was able, till one of the !. ladies, who is a Peeper, resolved to ring down my looks and fix my devotion on herself. You are to know, sir, that a Peeper works with her hands, eyes, and

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fan; one of which is continually in motion, while she thinks she is not actually the admiration of some ogler or starer in the congregation. As I stood utterly at a loss how to behave myself, surrounded as I was, this Peeper so placed herself as to be kneeling just before me. She displayed the most beautiful bosom imaginable, which heaved and fell with some fervour, while a delicate well-shaped arm held a fan over her face. It was not in nature to command one’s eyes from this object. I could not avoid taking notice also of her fan, which had on it various figures yery improper to behold on that occasion. There lay in the body of the piece a Venus under a purple canopy furled with curious wreaths of drapery, half naked, attended with a train of Cupids, who were busy in fanning her as she slept. Behind her was drawn a satyr peeping over the silken fence, and threatening to break through it. I frequently offered to turn my sight another way, but was still detained by the fascination of the Peeper's eyes, who had long practised a skill in them, to recal the parting glances of her beholders. You see my complaint, and I hope you will take these mischievous people, the Peepers, into your consideration. I doubt not but you will think a Peeper as much more pernicious than a Starer, as an ambuscade is more to be feared than an open assault. I am, Sir, your most obedient servant.”

This Peeper using both fan and eyes, to be considered as a Pict, and proceed accordingly. “KING LATINUs to the SPECTAtoR, greeting. “Though some may think we descend from our imperial dignity, in holding correspondence with a private literato; yet as we have great respect to all good intentions for our service, we do not esteem it beneath us to return you our royal thanks for what you have jo. in our behalf, while under confinement in the enchanted castle of the Savoy, and for your mention of a subsidy for a prince in misfortune. This your timely zeal has inclined the hearts of divers to be aiding unto us, if we could propose the means. We have taken their good-will into consideration, and have contrived a method which will be easy to those who shall give the aid, and not unacceptable to us who receive it. A concert of music shall be prepared at Haberdasher's-hall, for Wednesday the second of May, and we will honour the said entertainment with our own presence, where each rson shall be assessed but at two shilings and sixpence. What we expect from you is, that you publish these our royal intentions, with injunction that they be read at all tea-tables within the cities of London and Westminster; and so we bid you heartily farewell. “LATINUS, King of the Volscians.

“Given at our court in Wine r-yard,

; the third from the earth, April 28, 711. R.

No. 54.] Wednesday, May 2, 1711. —Strenua nos exercet inertia. Hor. Lib. 2. Ep. xi. 28. Laborious idleness our powers employs. The following letter being the first that I have received from the learned universit of Cambridge, I could not but do myself the honour of publishing it. It gives an account of a new sect of philosophers which has arose in that famous residence of learning; and is, perhaps, the only sect this age is likely to produce.

‘Cambridge, April 26.

“MR. SPECTAtoR,-Believing you to be an universal encourager of liberal arts and sciences, and glad of any information from the learned world, I thought an account of a sect of philosophers, very frequent among us, but not taken notice of as far as I can remember, by any writers, either ancient or modern, would not be unacceptable to you. The philosophers of this sect are in the language of our university called Loungers. I am of opinion, that, as in many other things, so likewise in this, the ancients have been defective; viz: in menj no philosophers of this sort. Some indeed will affirm that they are a kind of Peripatetics, because we see them continually walking about. But I would have these gentlemen consider, that though the ancient Peripatetics walked much, yet they wrote much also; witness, to the sorrow of this sect, Aristotle and others; whereas it is notorious that most of our professors never lay out a farthing either in pen, ink, or paper. Others are for deriving them from Diogenes, because several of the leading men of the sect have a great deal of cynical humour in them, and delight much in sunshine. But then, again, Diogenes was content to have his constant habitation in a narrow tub, whilst our philosophers are so far from being of his opinion, that it is death to them to be confined within the limits of a good handsome convenient chamber but for half an hour. Others there are who from the clearness of their heads deduce the pedigree of loungers from that great man (I think it was either Plato or Socrates) who, after all his study and learning, professed, that all he then knew was, that he knew nothing. You easily see this is but a shallow argument, and may be soon confuted.

“I have with great F. and industry made my observation from time to time upon these sages; and having now all materials ready, am compiling a treatise, wherein I shall set forth the rise and progress of this famous sect, together with their maxims, austerities, manner of living, &c. Having prevailed with a friend who

designs shortly to publish a new edition of Diogenes Laertius, to add this treatise of mine by way of supplement; I shall now, to let the world see what may be expected from me (first begging Mr. Spectator's leave that the world may see it) briefly touch upon some of my chief observations, and then subscribe myself, your humble servant. In the first place I shall give you two or three of their maxims: the fundamental one, upon which their whole system is built, is this, viz. “That time being an implacable enemy to, and destroyer of all things, ought to be paid in his own coin, and be destroyed and murdered without mercy, by all the ways that can be invented.” Another favourite saying of theirs is, ‘That business was only designed for knaves, and study for blockheads.” A third seems to be a ludicrous one, but has a great effect upon their lives; and is this, “That the devil is at home.” Now for their manner of living: and here I have a large field to expatiate in; but I shall reserve particulars for my intended discourse, and now only mention one or two of their principal exercises. The elder proficients employ themselves in inspecting mores hominum multorum, in getting acquainted with all the signs and windows in the town. Some are arrived to so great a knowledge, that they can tell every time any butcher kills a calf, every time an old woman's cat is in the straw; and a thousand other matters as important. One ancient philosopher contemplates two or three hours every day over a sun-dial; and is true to the ğ. -- As the dial to the sun, Although it be not shone upon.”

Our younger students are content to carry their speculations as yet no farther than bowling-greens, billiard-tables, and such like places. This may serve for a sketch of my design; in which I hope I shall have your encouragement. I am, Sir, yours.”

I must be sojust as to observe I have formerly seen of this sect at our other university; though not distinguished by the appellation which the learned historian, my correspondent, reports they bear at Cambridge. They were ever looked upon as a people that impaired themselves more by their strict application to the rules of their order, than any other students whatever. Others seldom hurt themselves any further than to gain weak eyes, and sometimes headaches; but these philosophers are seized all over with a general inability, indolence, and weariness, and a certain impatience of the place they are in, with a heaviness in removing to another. The loungers are satisfied with being merely part of the number of mankind, without distinguishing themselves from amongst them. They may be said rather to suffer their time to pass than to spend it, without regard to the past, or prospect of the future. All they know of this life is

only the present instant, and do not taste even that. When one of this order happens to be a man of fortune, the expense of his time is transferred to his coach and horses, and his life is to be measured by their motion, not his own enjoyments or sufferings. The chief entertainment one of these o can possibly propose to himself, is to get a relish of dress. This, methinks, might diversify the person he is weary of (his own dear self) to himself. . I have known these two amusements make one of these philosophers make a very tolerable figure in the world; with variety of dresses in public assemblies in town, and quick motion of his horses out of it; now to Bath, now to Tunbridge, then to Newmarket, and then to London, he has in process of time brought it to pass, that his coach and his horses have been mentioned in all those places. . When the loungers leave an academic life, and instead of this more elegant way of appearing in the polite world, retire to the seats of their ancestors, they usually join a pack of dogs, and employ their days in defending their poultry from foxes; I do not know any other method that any of this order have ever taken to make a noise in the world; but I shall enquire into such about this town as have arrived at the dignity of being loungers by the force of natural parts, without having ever seen a university; and send my correspondent for the embellishment of his book, the names and history of those who pass their lives without any incidents at all; and how they shift coffeehouses and chocolate-houses from hour to hour, to get over the insupportable labour of doing nothing. R.

No. 55.] Thursday, May 3, 1711. ——Intus et in jecore segro Nascuntur Domini Pers. Sat. p. 120. Our passions play the tyrant in our breasts. Most of the trades, professions, and ways of living among mankind, take their original either from the love of pleasure or the fear of want. The former, when it becomes too violent, degenerates into luxury, and the latter into avarice. As these two principles of action draw different ways, Persius has given us a very humourous account of a young fellow who was roused out of his bed in order to be sent upon a long voyage, by Avarice, and afterWards overpersuaded and kept at home o Luxury. I shall set down the pleadings of these two imaginary persons, as they are |Mr. Dryden's trans

in the original, with lation of them:

Mane, piger, stertis: surge, inquit Avaritia; eja
Surge. Negas, instat, surge, inquit. Non queo. Surge.
Et quid again Rogit as ? saperdas advehe ponto,
Castoreum, stuppas, ebenum, thus, lubrica Coa.
Tolle recens primus piper e sitiente camelo.
Verte aliquid; jura. Sed Jupiter audiet. Eheu !
Baro, regustatum digito terebrare salinum
Contentus perages, si vivere cum Jove tendis.

Jam puerís pellem succinctus, et anophorum aptas;
Oeyus ad naven. Nil obstat quin trabe vasta
AEgaoun rapias, nisi solers Luxuria ante
Seductim moneat: Quo deinde insane ruis? Quo?
Quid tibi vis? Calido sub pectore mascula bilis
Intumuit, quam non extinxerit urna cicutae
Tun' mare transilias Tibi torta cannabe fulto
Coena sit in transtro 3 Veientanumque rubellum
Exhalet vapida laesum pice sessilis obha 7
Quid petis? Ut nummi, quos hic quincunce modesto
Nutrieras, pergant avidos sudare deunces 1
Indulge genio: carpamus dulcia; nostrum est
Quod vivis; cinis, et Inanes, et fabula fies.
Wive memor lethi; fugit hora. Hoc quod loquor,
inde est.
En quid agist Duplici in diversum scinderishamo.
Hunctine, an hunc sequeris 2–' Sat. v. 132.

“Whether alone or in thy harlot's lap,
When thou wouldst take a lazy morning's nap;
Up up, says Avarice; thou snor'st again,
Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st, but all in vain.
The rugged tyrant no denial takes;
At his command th' unwilling sluggard wakes.
What must I do? he cries; What? says his lord;
Why rise, make ready, and go straight aboard;
With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight;
Flax. eastor. Coan wines, the precious weight
Of pepper, and Sabean incense, take
With thy own hands, from the tird camel's back,
And with post-haste thy running markets make;
Be sure to turn the penny; lie and swear ;
Tis wholesome sin: but Jove, thou say'st will hear.
Swear, fool, or starve, for the dilemma's even ;
A tradesman thou! and hope to go to heav'n?
Resolved for sea, the slaves thy baggage pack.
Each saddled with his burden on his back:
Nothing retards thy voyage now, but he,
That soft, voluptuous prince, call'd Luxury;
And he may ask this civil question; Friend,
What dost thou make a shipboard 3 To what end?
Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free ?
Stark. staring mad, that thou would'st tempt the sea?
Cubb'd in a cabin, on a matrass laid,
On a brown George, with lousy swabbers fed;
Dead wine, that stinks of the Borachio, sup
From a fowl jack, or greasy maple cup 3
Say would'st thou bear all this, to raise thy store,
From six i th’ hundred to six hundred more?
Indulge, and to thy genius freely give;
For, not to live at ease, is not to live.
Death stalks behind thee, and each flying hour
Does some loose remnant of thy life devour.
Live, while thou liv'st; for death will make us all
A name, a nothing but an old wife's tale.
Speak: wilt thou Avarice or Pleasure choose
To be thy lord 2 Take one, and one refuse.”

When a government flourishes in conquests, and is secure from foreign attacks, it naturally falls into all the pleasures of luxury; and as these pleasures are ve expensive, they put those who are addicted to them upon raising fresh supplies of money, by all the methods of rapaciousness and corruption; so that avarice and huxury very often become one complicated principle of action, in those whose hearts are wholly set u ease, magnificence, and pleasure. The most elegant and correct of all the Latin historians observes, that in his time, when the most formidable states of the world were subdued by the Romans, the republic sunk into those two vices of a quite different nature, luxury and avarice:* and accordingly describes Catiline as one who coveted the wealth of other men, at the same time that he squandered away his own. This observation on the commonwealth, when it was in its height of power and riches, holds good of all governments that are settled in a state of ease

• Alieni appetens, sui profusus-Sal.

and prosperity. At such times men naturally endeavour to outshine one another in pomp and splendour, and having no fears to alarm them from abroad, indulge themselves in the enjoyment of all the pleasures they can get into their possession; which naturally produces avarice, and an immoderate pursuit after wealth and riches. As I was humouring myself in the speculation of those two great principles of action, I could not forbear throwing my thoughts into a little kind of allegory or fable, with which I shall here present my reader. There were two very powerful tyrants engaged in a perpetual war against each other, the name of the first was Luxury and of the second Avarice. The aim o each of them was no less than universal monarchy over the hearts of mankind. Luxury had many generals under him, who did him great service, as Pleasure, Mirth, Pomp, and Fashion. Avarice was likewise very strong in his officers, being faithfully served by Hunger, Industry, Care, and Watchfulness: he had likewise a privy-counsellor who was always at his elbow, and whispering something or other in his ear: the name of this privy-counsellor was Poverty. As Avarice conducted himself by the counsels of Poverty, his antagonist was entirely guided by the dictates and advice of Plenty, who was his first counsellor and minister of state, that concerted all his measures for him, and never departed out of his sight. While these two great rivals were thus contending for empire, their conquests were very various. uxury got possession of one heart, and Avarice of another. The father of a family would often range himself under the banners of Avarice, and the son under those of Luxury. The wife and the husband would often declare themselves on the two different parties: nay, the same erson would very often side with one in is youth, and revolt to the other in his old age. Indeed the wise men of the world stood neuter; but alas! their numbers were not considerable. At length, when these two potentates had wearied themselves with waging war upon one another, they agreed upon an interview, at which neither of their counsellors were to be present. It is said that Luxury began the parley, and after having represented the endless state of war in which they were engaged, told his enemy, with a frankness of heart which is natural to him, that he believed they two should be very good friends were in not for the instigations of Poverty, that pernicious counsellor, who made an ill use of his ear, and filled him with groundless apprehensions and prejudices. To this Avarice replied, that he looked upon Plenty (the first minister of his antagonist) to be a much more destructive counsellor than Poverty, for that he was perpetually suggesting

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