meaning, and immediately obeys my fignals. She has likewise modelled her family so well, that when her little boy offers to pull me by the coat, or prattle in my face, his eldest sister immediately calls him off, and bids him not disturb the gentleman. At my first entring into the family, I was troubled with the civility of their rifing up to me every time I came into the room; but my landlady observing that upon these occafions I always cried pish, and went out again, has forbidden any fuch ceremony to be used in the house; so that at present I walk into the kitchen or parlour without being taken notice of, or giving any interruption to the business or discourse of the family. The maid will ask her mistress (tho' I am by) whether the gentleman is ready to go to dinner, as the mistress (who is indeed an excellent housewife) scolds at the servants as heartily before my face as behind my back. In short, I move up and down the house, and enter into all companies with the same liberty as a cat, or any other domestic animal, and am as little suspected of telling any thing that I hear or fee. minds are not more or less subject to these dreadful thoughts and apprehenfions, we ought to arm our selves against them by the dictates of reason and religion, "to pull the old woman out of our hearts". (as Perfius expresses it in the motto of my paper) and extinguish these impertinent notions which we imbibed at a time that we were not able to judge of their absurdity. Or if we believe, as many wite and good men have done, that there are such phantoms and apparitions as those I have been speaking of, let us endeavour to establish to ourselves an interest in Him who holds the reins of the whole creation in his hand, and moderates them after such a manner, that it is impossible for one being to break loose upon another without his knowledge and permiffion. For my own part, I am apt to join in opinion with those who believe that all the regions of nature swarm with spirits; and that we have multitudes of spectators on all our actions, when we think ourselves most alone; but, instead of terrifying myself with fuch a notion, I am wonderfully pleased to think that I am always engaged with such an innumerable society, in searching out the wonders of the creation, and joining in the fame confort of praise and adoration. Milton has finely described this mixed communion of men and spirits in paradise; and had doubtless his eye upon a verse in old Hefiod, which is almost word for word the fame with his third line in the following paffage. ------Nor think, though men were none, That Heav'n would want spectators, God want praife; Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth I remember last winter there were several young girls of the neighbourhood fitting about the fire with my landlady's daughters, and telling stories of spirits and apparations. Upon my opening the door, the young women broke off their discourse, but my landlady's daughters telling them that it was nobody but the gentleman (for that is the name that I go by in the neighbourhood, as well as in the family) they went on without minding me. I seated myself by the candle that stood on a table at one end of the room; and pretending to read a book that I took out of my pocket, heard several dreadful stories of ghosts as pale as ashes that had stood at the feet of a bed, or walked over a church-yard by moon-light; and of others that had been conjured into the Red-Sea, for disturbing people's rest, and drawing their curtains at midnight; with many other old womens fables of the like nature. As one spirit raised another, I observed that at the end of every story the whole company closed their ranks, and crouded about the fire. I took notice in particular of a little boy, who was so attentive to every fstory, that I am mistaken if he ventures to go to bed by himself this twelve-month. Indeed they talked so long, that the imaginations of the whole assembly were manifestly crazed, and, I am fure, will be the worse for it as long as they live. I heard one of the girls, that had looked upon me over her shoulder, asking the company how long I had been N° 13. in the room, and whether I did not look paler than I used to do. This put me under some apprehenfions that I should be forced to explain myself if I did not retire; for which reason I took the candle in my hand, and went up into my chamber, not without wondering at this unaccountable weakness in reasonable creatures, that they should love to aftonish and terrify one another. Were I a father, I should take a particular care to preserve my children from these little horrors and imaginations, which they are apt to contract when they are young, and are not able to shake off when they are in years. I have known a foldier that has entered a breach, af frighted at his own shadow, and look pale upon a little scratching at his door, who the day before had marched up against a battery of cannon. There are instances of persons, who have been terrified even to diftraction, at the figure of a tree, or the shaking of a bullrush. The truth of it is, I look upon a found imagination as the greatest blesling of life, next to a clear judgment and a good confcience. In the mean time, ince there are very few whose T THURSDAY, MARCH 15. Dic mihi, fi fueris tu leo, qualis eris? C MART. Were you a lion, how would you behave? HERE is nothing that of late years has af forded matter of greater amulement to the town thân Signior Nicolini's combat with a Lion in the Hay-Market, which has been very often exhibited, to the general fatisfaction of most of the nobility and gentry in the kingdom of Great-Britain. Upon the first rumour of this intended combat, it was confidently affirmed, and is still believed by many in both galleries, that there would be a tame Lion fent from the Tower every opera night, in order to be killed by Hydaspes. This report, though altogether groundlefs, so univerfally prevailed in the upper regions of the play-house, that some of the most refined politicians in those parcs of the audience gave it out in whisper, that the Lion was a coufin-german of the Tiger who made his appearance in King William's days, and that the sta e would be fupplied with lions at the publick expence, during the whole feffion. Many likewise were the conjectures of the treatment which this Lion was to meet with from the hands of Signior Nicolini: some fuppofed that he was to fubdue him in recititavo. as Orpheus used to serve the wild beasts in his time, and afterwards to knock him on the head; some fancied that the Lion would not pretend to lay his paws upon the hero, by reason of the received opinion, that a Lion will not hurt a Virgin: several, who pretended to have feen the opera in Italy, had informed their friends, that the lion was to act a part in High-Dutch, and roar twice or thrice to a Thorough-Bass, before he fell at the feet of Hydaspes. To clear up a matter that was so variously reported, I have made it my business to examine whether this pretended Lion is really the favage he appears to be, or only a counterfeit. But before I communicate my discoveries, I muft acquaint the reader, that upon my walking behind the scenes last winter, as I was thinking on something else, I accidentally justled against a monstrous animal that extremely startled me, and, upon my nearer furvey of it, appeared to be a lion rampant. The lion, feeing me very much furprised, told me, in a gentle voice, that I might come by him if I pleased; "For," says he, "I " do not intend to hurt any body." I thanked him very kindly, and paffed by him; and in a little time after saw him leap upon the stage, and act his part with very great applaufe. It has been observed by feveral, that the Lion has changed his manner of acting twice or thrice fince his first appearance; which will not feem strange, when I acquaint my reader that the Lion has been changed upon the audience three several times, The first Lion was a Candie-snuffer, who, being a fellow of a testy choleric temper, over-did his part, and would not fufier himself to be killed so easily as he ought to have done; besides, it was observed of him, that he grew more furly every time he came out of the Lion; and having dropt some words in ordinary conversation, as if he had not fought his best, and that he suffered himself to be thrown upon his back in the scuffie, and that he would wrestle with Mr. Nicolini for what he pleased, out of his Lion's skin, it was thought proper to difcard him; and it is verily believed, to this day, that had he been brought upon the flage another time, he would certainly have done mischief. Besides it was objected against the first Lion, that he reared himself so high upon his hinder paws, and walked in so erect a posture, that he looked more like an old Man than a Lion. The fecond Lion was a Tailor by trade, who belonged to the play-house, and had the character of a mild and peaceable man in his profession. If the former was too furious, this was too sheepith, for his part; infomuch, that after a short modest walk upon the stage, he would fall at the first touch of Hydaspes, without grappling with him, and giving him an opportunity of shewing his variety of Italian trips: it is faid indeed, that he once gave him a rip in his flesh-coloured doublet; but this was only to make work for himself, in his private character as a Tailor. I must not omit that it was this second Lion who treated me with so much humanity behind the fcenes. The acting Lion at present is, as I am informed, a Country-Gentleman, who does it for his iverfion, but defires his name may be concealed, He says very handsomely, in his own excuse, that he does not act for gain, that he indulges an innocent pleasure in it; and that it is better to pass away an evening in this manner, than in gaming and drinking; but at the fame time says, with a very agreeable raiilery upon himself, that if his name should be known, the ill-natured world might call him, The Afs in the Lion's skin. This Gentleman's temper is made out of fuch a happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he outdoes both his predeceffors, and has drawn together greater audiences than have been known in the memory of man. I must not conclude my narrative, without taking notice of a groundless report that has been raised, to a Gentleman's disadvantage, of whom I must declare myself an admirer: namely, that Signior Nicolini and the Lion have been seen sitting peaceably by one another, and finoking a pipe together behind the scenes; by which their common enemies would infinuate, that it is but a sham combat which they reprefent upon the stage; but upon inquiry I find, that if any fuch correspondence has passed between them, it was not till the combat was over, when the Lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the received rules of the Drama. Besides, this is what is practised every day in Westminster-Hall, where nothing is more usual than to fee a couple of Lawyers, who have been tearing each other to pieces in the court, embracing one another as foon as they are out of it. I would not be thought, in any part of this relation, to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who in acting this part only complies with the wretched taste of his audience; he knows very well, that the Lion has many more admirers than himself; as they say of the famous equestrian statue on the PontNeuf at Paris, that more people go to see the horse, than the King who fits upon it. On the contrary, it gives me a just indignation to fee a perfon whose action gives new majesty to kings, resolution to heroes, and softness to lovers, thus finking from the greatness of his behaviour, and degraded into the character of the London 'Prentice. I have often wished, that our tragedians would copy after this great master in action, Could they make the fame use of their arms and legs, and inform their faces with as fignificant looks and paffions, how glorious would an English tragedy appear with that action, which is capable of giving a dignity to the forced thoughts, cold conceits, and unnatural expreffions of an Italian opera. In the mean time, i have related this combat of the Lion, to shew what are at present the reigning entertainments of the politer part of Great-Britain. Audiences have often been reproached by writers for the coarseness of their taste; but our present grievance does not seem to be the want of a good taste, but of common fenfe. N° 14. FRIDAY, MARCH 16. -----Teque bis, infelix, exue monftris.. I OVID. Met. 1. 4. ver. 590. Wretch that thou art! put off this monstrous shape. WAS reflecting this morning upon the spirit and humour of the public diverfions five-andtwenty years ago, and those of the present time; and lamented to myself, that, though in those days HAVE read all your papers, and have stified my resentment against your reflections upon operas, till that of this day, wherein you plainly infinuate, that Signior Grimaldi and myself have a correfpondence more friendly than is con' fiftent with the valour of his character, or the fierceness of mine. I desire you would for your own fake forbear fuch intimations for the future; and must say it is a great piece of illnature in you, to shew so great an esteem for 'a foreigner, and to difcourage a Lion that is 'your own countryman. 'I take notice of your fable of the Lion and 'Man, but am so equally concerned in that matter, 'that I shall not be offended at whichfoever of the 'animals the superiority is given. You have mif'represented me, in saying that I am a courty'gentleman, who act only for my diversion; ' whereas, had I still the same woods to range in ' which I once had when I was a fox-hunter, I 'should not resign my manhood for a maintenance; 'SIR, I Covent-Garden, March. 13. HAVE observed the rules of my mafque fo carefully (in not inquiring into persons), 'that I cannot tell whether you were one of the company or not last Tuesday; but if you were not, and still design to come, I defire you would, ' for your own entertainment, please to admonish 'the town, that all persons indifferently are not fit 'for this fort of diversion. I could wish, Sir, you 'could make them understand, that it is a kind ' of acting to go in Masquerade, and a man should 'be able to say or do things proper for the dress, in which he appears. We have now and then 'rakes in the habit of Roman fenators, and grave 'politicians in the dress of rakes. The misfortune ' of the thing is, that people dress themselves in 'what they have a mind to be, and not what the are fit for. There is not a girl in the town, but ' let her have her will in going to a masque, and 'she shall dress as a shepherdess. But let me beg ' of them to read the Arcadia, or fome other good romance, before they appear in any fuch a cha 6 racter at my house. The last day we presented, every body was so rashly habited, that when they 'came to fpeak to each other, a nymph with a ' crook had not a word to say but in the pert stile ' of the pit bawdry; and a man in the habit of a philosopher was speechless, till an occafion of'fered of expressing himself in the refuse of the ty'ring-rooms. We had a judge that danced a mi'nuet with a quaker for his partner, while half a ' dozen harlequins stood by as spectators; a Turk ' drank me off two bottles of wine, and a jew eat ' me up half a ham of bacon. If I can bring my ' design to bear, and make the masquers preserve 'their characters in my assemblies, I hope you ' will allow there is a foundation laid for more ' elegant and improving gallantries than any the town at present affords; and consequently, that you will give your approbation to the endeavours ' of, • Sir, Your most obedient humble fervant.' I am very glad the following epistle obliges me to mention Mr. Powell a fecond time in the fame paper; for indeed there cannot be too great encouragement given to his-skill in motions, provided he is under proper restrictions. SIR, T HE Opera HAVE been for twenty years Under-Sexton of this parish of St. Paul's Covent-Garden, and have not missed tolling in to prayers fix times in all those years; which office I have performed ' to my great fatisfaction, till this fortnight last past, during which time I find my congregation take the warning of my bell, morning and evening, to go to a puppet-show set forth by one Pow' eli under the Piazzas. By this means, I have ' not only lost my two customers, whom I used ' at the Hay-Market, and that un' to place for fix-pence a-piece over-against der the little Piazza in Covent-Garden, • Mrs. Rachael Eye-bright, but Mrs. Rachael her- 'being at present the two leading diversions of the felf is gone thither alfo. There now appear town, and Mr. Powell profeffing in his adveramong us none but a few ordinary people, who tisements to fet up Whittington and his cat against 'come to church only to say their prayers, fo that • Rinaldo and Armida, my curiofity led me the be'I have no work worth speaking of but on Sun- 'ginning of last week to view both these performdays. I have placed my fon at the Piazzas, to ances, and make my observations upon them. 'acquaint the ladies that the bell rings for church, ' and that it stands on the other fide of the Gar'den; but they only laugh at the child. pected Armida's dragons should rush forward to'wards Argantes, I found the hero was obliged to go to Armida, and hand her out of her coach, • We had also but a very short allowance of thunder and lightning; though I cannot in this place omit doing justice to the boy who had the direc• tion of the two painted dragons, and made them • spit fire and smoke; he flashed out his rofin in such just proportions and in fuch due time, that ‹ I could not forbear conceiving hopes of his be• ing one day a most excellent player. I fawin• deed but two things wanting to render his whole * action complete, I mean the keeping his head a • little lower, and hiding his candle. ، ' I observe that Mr. Powell and the Undertakers had both the same thought, and I think ' much about the fame time, of introducing ani• mals on their several stages, though indeed with very different success. The Sparrows and Chaffinches at the Hay-Market fly as yet very irregularly over the stage; and instead of perching on • the trees and performing their parts, these young ' actors either get into the galleries, or put out the candles; whereas Mr. Powell has fo well difciplined his Pig, that in the first scene he and • Punch dance a minuet together. I am informed however, that Mr. Powell refolves to excel his ⚫ adversaries in their own way; and introduce Larks in his next Opera of Sufanna, or Inno⚫ cence betrayed, which will be exhibited next • week with a pair of new Elders. 'The moral of Mr. Powell's drama is violated, I confefs, by Punch's national reflections on the • French, and King Harry's laying his leg upon the Queen's lap in too ludicrous a manner before fo great an affembly. As to the mechanism and scenery, every thing ⚫ indeed was uniform and of a piece, and the * scenes were managed very dexterously; which • calls on me to take notice, that at the Hay* Market the Undertakers forgetting to change ' their fide-scenes, we were presented with a prof• pect of the ocean in the midst of a delightful grove; and though the gentleman 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 aftonished ⚫ to fee a well-dressed young fellow, in a full-bottomed wig, appear in the midst of the sea, and • without any visible concern taking snuff. ' I shall only observe one thing farther, 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 performance of Mr. Powell, because it is in our own Language. I am, &c.' N° 15. SATURDAY, MARCH 17. Parva leves capiunt animos OVID. Ars Am. i. 159. Light minds are pleas'd with trifles. W R HEN I was in France, I used to gaze with great aftonishment at the splendid equipages, and party-coloured habits, of that fantastic nation. I was one day in particular contemplating a lady, that fat in a coach adorned with gilded Cupids, and finely painted with the loves of Venus and Adonis. The coach was drawn by fix milk-white horfes, and loaden behind with the fame 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, wha afterwards gave an occafion 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 faw her, were, it feems, 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 fent thither partly by the lofs of one lover, and partly by the possession of another. I have often reflected with myself on this unaccountable humour in woman-kind, of being smitten with every thing that is showy and fuperficial; and on the numberlefs evils that befal the sex from this light fantastical difpofition. I myself remember a young lady, that was very warmly folicited by a couple of importunate rivals, who, for feveral 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 lady undetermined in her choice, one of the young lovers very luckily bethought himfelf of adding a fupernumerary lace to his I'veries, which had fo good an effect that he married her the very week after. The usual conversation of ordinary women very much cherishes this natural weakness of being taken with outside and appearance. Talk of a newmarried couple, and you immediately hear whether they keep their coach and fix, or eat in plate; mention the name of an absent lady, and it is ten to one but you learn fomething of her gown and petticoat. A ball is a great help to discourse, and a birth-day furnishes converfation for a twelvemonth after. A furbelow of precious stones, an hat buttoned with a diamond, a brocade waistcoat or petticoat, are standing topicks. In short, they confider only the drapery of the species, and never cast away a thought on those ornaments of the mind that make perfons illustrous in themselves and useful to others. When women are thus perpetually dazzling one another's imaginations, and filling their heads with nothing but colours, it is no wonder that they are more attentive to the fuperficial parts of life than the folid and substantial bleffings of it. A girl who has been trained up in this kind of conversation, is in danger of every embroidered coat that comes in her way. A pair of fringed gloves may be her ruin. In a word, lace and ribbons, filver and gold galloons, with the like glittering gew-gaws, are fo many lures to women of weak minds or 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 noife! it arifes, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's felf; and, in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few felect companions; it loves shade and folitude, and naturally haunts groves and fountains, fields and meadows: in short, it feels every thing it wants within itself, and receives no addition does not receive any fatisfaction 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, de lights 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 folitudes, has been in love with her ever fince he knew her. They both abound with good sense, confummate virtue, and a mutual esteem; and are a perpetual entertainment to one another. Their family is under 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. How different to this is the life of Fulvia! the confiders her husband as her steward, and looks upon difcretion and good houswifry as little domestic virtues, unbecoming 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 Play - house, or the Drawing-room; she lives in a perpetual motion of body, and restlefsness 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 unpolish ed creature. What a mortification would it be to Fulvia, if she knew that her setting herself to view is but expofing herself, and that she grows contemptible by being confpicuous. I cannot conclude my paper, without observing that Virgil has very finely touched upon this female paffion for dress and show, in the character of Camilla; who, though she seems to have shaken off all the other weaknesses of her sex, is still described as a woman in this particular. The poet tells us, that after having made a great laughter of the enemy, she unfortunately cast her eye on a Trojan, who wore an embroidered tunic, a beautiful coat of mail, with a mantle of the finest purple. "A golden bow," says he, "hung " upon his shoulder; his garment was buckled " with a golden clasp, and his head was covered "with an helmet of the same shining metal." The Amazon immediately singled out this welldressed warrior, being seized with a woman's longing for the pretty trappings that he was adorn ed with: Quod Verum boc fum. atque docens curo & rogo, & omnis in What right, what true, what fit we justly call, I POPE. HAVE received a letter, defiring me to be very satirical upon the little Muff that is now in fashion; another informs me of a pair of filver Garters buckled below the knee, that have been lately seen at the Rainbow Coffee-house in Fleetstreet; a third sends me an 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, that it is not my intention to fink the dignity of this my paper with reflections upon red-heels or top-knots, but rather to enter into the passions of mankind, and to correct 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 bloffoms will fall of themselves when the root that nourishes them is destroyed. I shall therefore, as I have faid, apply my remedies to the first seeds and principles of an affected dress, without descending to the dress itself; though at the fame time I must own, that I have thoughts of creating an officer under me, to be entituled, "The Censor of small Wares," and of allotting him one day in a week for the execution of fuch his office. An operator of this nature might act under me with the same regard as a furgeon to a physician; the one might be employed in healing those blotches and tumours which break out in the body, while the other is sweetening the blood and rectifying the conftitution. To speak truly, the young people of both sexes are so wonderfully apt to shoot out into long swords or sweeping trains, bushy head-dresses, or full-bottomed perriwigs, with feveral other incumbrances of dress, that they ftand in need of being pruned very frequently, lest they should be oppressed with ornaments, and over-run with the luxuriance of their habits. I am much in doubt, whether I should give the preference to a quaker that is trimmed close and almost cut to the quick, or to a beau that is loaden with such a redundance of excrefcences. I must therefore defire my correspondents to let me know how they approve my project, and whether they think the erecting of such a petty censorship may 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 correfpondents to whom I must address myself in the second place; I mean fuch 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 fent me by people who cannot spell, and fatires composed by those who fcarce know how to write. By the last post in particular, I received a packet of scandal which is not legible; and have a whole bundle of letters in womens hands that are full of blots and calumnies, infomuch, that when I see the name of Cælia, Phillis, Pa D2 tora, |