I have, in former papers, endeavoured to expore this party-rage in women, as it only ferves to ag- N° 82 When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and just upon the point of giving battle, the women, who were allied to both of them, interpofed with fo many tears and intreaties, that they prevented the mutual flaughter which threatened both parties, and united them together in a firm and la fting peace. I would recommend this noble example to our British ladies, at a time when their country is torn with fo many unnatural divisions, that if they continue, it will be a misfortune to be born in it. The Greeks thought it fo improper for women to intereft themselves in competitions and contentions, that for this reafon among others, they forbad them, under pain of death, to be prefent at the Olympic games, notwithstanding these were the public diverfions of all Greece. turn. As our English women excel thofe of all other nations in beauty, they should endeavour to outfhine them in all other accomplishments proper to the fex, and to diftinguish themfelves as tender mothers, and faithful wives, rather than as furious partifans. Female virtues are of a domestic The family is the proper province for private women to fhine in. If they must be fhewing their zeal for the public, let it not be against those who are perhaps of the fame family, or at leaft of the fame religion or nation, but against thofe who are the open, profeffed, undoubted enemies of their faith, liberty and country. When the Romans were preffed with a foreign enemy, the ladies voluntarily contributed all their rings and jewels to affift the government under a public exigence, which appeared fo laudable an action in the eyes of their countrymen, that from thence forth it was permitted by a law to pronounce public orations at the funeral of a woman in praife of the deceafed perfon, which until that time was peculiar to men. Would our English ladies, inftead of sticking on a patch against thofe of their own country, fhew themfelves fo truly public fpirited, as to facrifice 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 fubject fuch paffages as occur to my memory out of ancient authors, I cannot omit a fentence in the celebrated funeral oration of Pericles, which he made in honour of those brave Athenians that were flain in a fight with the Lacedemonians. After having addreffed himself to the feveral ranks and orders of his countrymen, and hewn them how they fhould behave themselves in the public caufe, he turns to the female part of his audience; "And as for you," fays he, "I fhall advife you "in very few words: afpire only to thofe virtues "that are peculiar to your fex; follow your na"tural modefty, and think it your greatest com"mendation, not to be talked of one way or << other." MONDAY, JUNE 4. · Caput dominâ venale sub baftâ. Juv. Sat. 3. v. 33* His fortunes ruin'd, and himself a slave. P ASSING under Ludgate the other day, I heard a voice bawling for charity, which I thought I had fomewhere heard before. Coming near to the grate, the prifoner called me by my name, and defired I would throw fomething 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 ftrange conftitution of fome men, and how meanly they behave themselves in all forts of conditions. The perfon who begged of me is now, as I take it, fifty: I was well acquainted with him until 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 difputes, broke drawers heads, talked and fwore loud, was unmannerly to those above him, and infolent to those below him. I could not but remark, that it was the fame baseness of spirit which worked in his behaviour in both fortunes: the fame little mind was infolent in riches, and fhameless in poverty. This accident made me mufe upon the circumftance of being in debt in general, and folve 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 fuch preffures. As for myself, my natural averfion to that fort of converfation, 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 eftate, proper vouchers for his quarterly payments to me, and obferve what linen my laun dress brings and takes away with her once a week: my fteward brings his receipt ready for my figning; and I have a pretty implement with the refpective names of fhirts, cravats, handkerchiefs and stockings, with proper numbers to know how to reckon with my laundrefs. This being almost all the bufinefs I have in the world for the care of my own affairs, I am at full leifure to observe upon what others do, with relation to their equipage and economy. When I walk the street, and obferve the hurry about me in this town, "Where with like haste, thro' diff'rent ways' they run; "Some to undo, and fome to be undone." I fay, when I behold this vaft variety of perfons and humours, with the pains they both take for the accomplishment of the ends mentioned in the above verfes of Denham, I cannot much wonder at the endeavour after gain, but am extremely aftonifhed that men can be fo infenfible of the danger of running into debt. One would think it impoffible a man who is given to contract debts fhould know, that his creditor has, from that moment in which he tranfgreffes payment, fo 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 fay the worst thing imaginable on him, to wit, "that he is unjust,' without without defamation; and can seize his perfon, without being guilty of an affault. Yet fuch is the loofe and abandoned turn of fome mens minds, that they can live under these constant apprehenfions, and still go on to increase the caufe of them. Can there be a more low and fervile condition, than to be afhamed, or afraid to fee any one man breathing? Yet he that is much in debt, is in that condition with relation to twenty different people. There are indeed circumftances, wherein men of honeft natures may become liable to debts, by fome unadvised behaviour in any great point of their life, or mortgaging a man's honefty as a fecurity for that of another, and the like; but these inftances are fo particular and circumftantiated, that they cannot come within general confiderations for one fuch cafe as one of thefe, there are ten, where a man, to keep up a farce of retinue and grandeur within his own houfe, fhall fhrink at the expectation of furly demands at his doors. The debtor is the creditor's criminal, and all the officers of power and state, whom we behold make fo great a figure, are no other than fo many perfons in authority to make good his charge against him. Human fociety 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 fo from generation to generation. The father mortages when his fon is very young; and the boy is to marry as foon as he is at age to redeem it, and find portions for his fifters. This forfooth, is no great inconvenience to him; for he may wench, keep a public table or feed dogs like a worthy English gentleman, until he has outrun half his estate, and leave the fame incumbrance upon his first-born, and fo on, until one man of more vigour than ordinary goes quite through the eftate, or fome man of fenfe comes into it, and scorns to have an eftate in partnership, that is to fay, liable to the demand or infult of any man living. There is my friend Sir Andrew, though for many years a great and general trader, was never the defendant in a law-fuit, in all the perplexity of business, and the iniquity of mankind at prefent: no one had any colour for the leaft 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 fuffered a difadvantage in fight. How different from this gentleman is Jack Truepenny, who has been an old acquaintance of Sir Andrew and myself from boys, but could never learn our caution. Jack has a whorish unrefifted 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 fervice that comes firft. When he was at school, he was whipped thrice a week for faults he took upon him to excufe others; fince he came into the bufinefs of the world, he has been arrefted twice or thrice a year for debts he had nothing to do with, but as furety for others; and I remember when a friend of his had fuffered in the vice of the town, all the phyfic his friend took was conveyed to him by Jack, and infcribed, "A "bolus or an electuary for Mr. Truepenny.' Jack had a good eftate left him, which came to nothing; because he believed all who pretended to demands upon it. This eafinefs and credulity destroy all the other merit he has; and he has all W DRYDEN. HEN the weather hinders me from taking my diverfions without doors, I frequently make a little party with two or three fele&t friends, to vifit any thing curious that may be seen under covert. My principal entertainments of this nature are pictures, infomuch that when I have found the weather fet in to be very bad, I have taken a whole day's journey to fee a gallery that is furnished by the hands of great mafters. By this means, when the heavens are filled with clouds, when the earth fwims in rain, and all nature wears a lowring countenance, I withdraw myself from thefe uncomfortable fcenes into the vifionary worlds of art; where I meet with fhining landscapes, gilded triumphs, beautiful faces, and all thofe other objects that fill the mind with gay ideas, and difperfe that gloominefs which is apt to hang upon it in thofe dark difconfolate feafons. I was fome weeks ago in a course of these diverfions; which had taken fuch an intire poffeffion of my imagination, that they formed in it a fhort morning's dream, which I fhall communicate to my reader, rather as the first fketch and outlines of a vision, than as a finished piece. I dreamed that I was admitted into a long spacious gallery, which had one fide covered with pieces of all the famous painters who are now living, and the other, with the works of the greateft mafters that are dead. On the fide of the living, I faw feveral perfons bufy in drawing, colouring, and defigning; on the fide of the dead painters, I could not difcover more than one perfon at work, who was exceeding flow in his motions, and wonderfully nice in his touches. I was refolved to examine the feveral artists that flood before me, and accordingly applied myfelf to the fide 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 dreffed like a Frenchman. All the faces he drew were very remarkable for their fmiles, and a certain fmirking air which he bestowed indifferently on every age and degree of either fex. The tou jours gai appeared even in his judges, bishops, and privy counsellors ; in a word all his men were P 2 7 Petits Petits Maitres, and all his women Coquettes. The drapery of his figures was extremely well fuited to his faces, and was made up of all the glaring colours that could be mixed together; every part of the drefs was in a flutter, and endeavoured to diftinguish itself above the reft. On the left hand of Vanity stood a laborious workman, who I found was his humble admirer, and copied after him. He was dreffed like a German, and had a very hard name that founded fomething like Stupidity. The third artift that I looked over was Fantaf que, dreffed like a Venetian scaramouch. He had an excellent hand at a Chimera, and dealt very much in diftortions and grimaces. He would fometimes affright himself with the phantoms that flowed from his pencil. In fhort the moft elaborate of his pieces was at beft but a terrifying dream; and one could fay nothing more of his fineft figures, than that they were agreea ble monsters. The fourth perfon I examined, was very remarkable for his hafty hand, which left his pictures fo unfinished, that the beauty in the picture, which was defigned to continue as a monument of it to pofterity, faded sooner than in the perfon after whom it was drawn. He made fo much hafte to dispatch his bufinefs, that he neither gave himfelf time to clean his pencils, nor mix his colours. The name of this expeditious workman was Avarice. Not far from this artift I faw another of a quite different nature, who was dreffed 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 fingle hair in his face; if the figure of a ship, there was not a rope among the tackle that efcaped him. He had likewife hung a great part of the wall with night-pieces, that feemed to fhew themselves by the candles which were lighted up in feveral parts of them and were fo inflamed by the fun-fhine which accidentally fell upon them, that at firft fight I could fcarce forbear crying out, Fire. The five foregoing arttits were the most confiderable on this fide the gallery; there were indeed feveral others whom I had not time to look into. One of them, however, I could not forbear obferving, who was very bufy in retouching the finest pieces, though he produced no originals His pencil aggravated every feature that was before over-charged, loaded every defect and poifoned every colour it touched. Though this workman did fo much mifchief on the fide of the living, he never turned his eye towards that of the dead. His name was Envy. of his own. one another only in the variety of their fhapes, complexions, and clothes; fo that they looked like different nations of the same species, Obferving an old man, who was the fame perfon I before mentioned, as the only artift that was at work on this fide 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 mo tions. I found his pencil was fo very light, that it worked imperceptibly, and after a thousand touches, fcarce produced any vifible effect in the picture on which he was employed. However, as he bufied himself inceffantly, and repeated touch after touch without rest or intermiffion, he wore off infenfibly every little difagreeable glofs that hung upon a figure. He alfo added fuch a beautiful brown to the fhades, and mellowness to the colours, that he made every picture appear more perfect than when it came fresh from the 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, difcovered 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 furvey of this imaginary old man, my fleep left me. C L OOKING over the old manufcript wherein the private actions of Pharamond are set down by way of table-book, I found many things which gave me great delight; and as human life turns upon the fame principles and paffions in all ages, I thought it very proper to take minutes of what paffed in that age, for the inftruction 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 infert here, because I may have occafion to mention many of their conversations, into which thefe 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 Eu crate, by putting his hand to his face, placing his arm negligently on a window, or fome fuch action as appeared indifferent to all the reft of Having taken a curfory view of one fide of the gallery, I turned myself to that which was filled by the works of thofe great mafters that were dead when immediately I fancied myself ftanding before a multitude of fpectators, and thou-the company. Upon fuch notice, unobferved fands of eyes locking upon me at once; for all before me appeared fo like men and women that I almoft forgot they were pictures. Raphael's figures ftood 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 Corregio, and another by Rubens. To be fhort, there was not a great mafter among the dead who had not contributed to the embellishment of this fide of the gallery. The perfons that owed their being to thefe feveral masters, appeared all of them to be real and alive, and differed among by others, for their intire intimacy was always a fecret, Eucrate repaired to his own apartment to receive the King. There was a fecret accefs to this part of the court, at which Eucrate used to admit many whofe mean appearance in the eyes of the ordinary waiters and door keepers 'made them be repulfed from other parts of the palace. Such as thefe 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 fay, were bribes received by Eucrate; for Eucrate had the most compaffionate spirit of all men living, except his generous mafter, who was always kindled at the leaft affliction which was communicated to him. In the regard for the mi⚫ferable, Eucrate took particular care, that the common forms of diftrefs, and the idle pretend'ers to forrow, about courts, who wanted only fupplies to luxury, should never obtain favour by his means: but the diftreffes which arife from the many inexplicable occurrences that happen among men, the unaccountable alienation of parents from their children, cruelty of husbands to wives, poverty occafioned from fhip-wreck or fire, the falling out of friends, or 'fuch other terrible difafters, to which the life ❝ of man is exposed: in cafes 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 eife 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 miferable to be relieved by Phiaramond, "that Eucrate is melancholy? I fear there is, " answered the favourite; a perfon without, of 66 a good air, well dreffed, and though a man in "the ftrength of his life, feems to faint under "fome inconfolable calamity: all his features 'feem fuffufed with agony of mind; but I can "obferve in him, that it is more inclined to break ❝ away in tears than rage. I asked him what he "would have; he faid he would fpeak to Pharamond. I defired his bufinefs; he could hardly "fay to me, Eucrate, carry me to the king, my "ftory is not to be told twice, I fear I fhall not "be able to fpeak it at all.” Pharamond commanded Eucrate to let him enter; he did fo, and the gentleman approached the king with an "air which fpoke him under the greatest concern in what manner to demean himself. The king, who had a quick difcerning, relieved him from the oppreffion he was under; and with the most beautiful complacency faid to him,' "Sir, do "not add to that load of forrow I fee in your "There is an authority due to diftrefs, and as "none of human race is above the reach of forrow, none should be above the hearing the voice of it; I am fure Pharamond is not. Know "then, that I have this morning unfortunately "killed in a duel, the man whom of all men liv. "ing I moft loved. I command myself too much "in your royal prefence, to fay, Pharamond, give "me my friend! Pharamond has taken him from "me! I will not fay, fhall the merciful Phara"mond destroy his own fubjects, the father of "his country murder his people? But, the mer"ciful Pharamond does destroy his fubjects, the "father of his country does murder his people. "Fortune is fo much the purfuit 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 to"gether; can never, without the guilt of a "court, happen, that it shall not be unfashion"able to do what is unlawful. But alas! in the "dominions of Pharamond, by the force of a ty"rant custom, which is mif-named a point of "honour, the duellift kills his friend whom he "loves; and the judge condemns the duellift, "while he approves his behaviour. Shame is "the greatest of all evils; what avail laws, when "death only attends the breach of them, and "fhame obedience to them? As for me, oh Pha"ramond, were it poffible to defcribe the name"lefs kinds of compunctions and tenderneffes I "feel, when I reflect upon the little accidents in "our former familiarity, my mind fwells into countenance the awe of my prefence; think 66 you are speaking to your friend; if the circumftances of your diftrefs will admit of it, "you fhall find me fo." To whom the ftrang er: "Oh excellent Pharamand, name not a "friend to the unfortunate Spinamont. I had ❝one, but he is dead by my own hand; but oh "Pharamond, though it was by the hand of Spi" namont, it was by the guilt of Pharamond. I "come not, oh excellent prince, to implore your "pardon; I come to relate my forrow, a forrow too great for human life to fupport: from henceforth fhall all occurrences appear dreams or fhort intervals of amufement, from this one affliction which has feized 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 fpilt this day "by this unhappy hand; oh that it had perifhed "before that inftant!" Here the ftranger paufed, and recollecting his mind, after fome little meditation, he went on in a calmer tone and gefture as fellows,' With forrow which cannot be refifted enough to be "filent in the prefence of Pharamond." 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 falfe "mercy of his adminiftration, and form to him"felf the vengeance called for, by those who have "perified by his negligence." R HOR. Ars. Poet. v. 312. Sometimes in rough and undigested plays We meet with fuch a lucky character, As, being humour'd right, and well purfu'd, And chiming trifles of more ftudious pens, Succeeds much better than the fhallow verfe, ROSCOMMON. what ufe 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 thefe feveral years, has converted the effays 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 feveral fragments of it upon the next rejoicing day, which had been em.. ployed in fquibs and crackers, and by that means celebrated its fubject 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 fuperftitious viand, I know not; but upon the perufal of it, I conceived fo good an idea of the author's piety, that I bought the whole book. I have often profited by these accidental readings, and have fometimes found very curious pieces, that are either out of print, or not to be met with in the fhops of our London bookfellers. For this reafon, when my friends take a furvey of my library, they are very much furprized to find, upon the shelf of folios, two long band-boxes ftanding upright among my books, until I let them fee that they are both of them lined with deep erudition and abftrufe literature. I might likewife mention a paper-kite, from which I have received great improvement; and a hat-cafe, which I would not exchange for all the beavers in Great-Britain. This my inquifitive temper, or rather impertinent humour of prying into all forts of writing, with my natural averfion to loquacity, gives me a good deal of employment when I enter any houfe in the country; for I cannot for my heart leave a room, before I have thoroughly ftudied the walls of it, and examined the feveral printed papers which are ufually pafted upon them. The last piece that I met with upon this occafion gave me a most exquifite pleafure. My reader will think I am not ferious, when I acquaint him that the piece I am going to fpeak of was the old ballad of the "Two "Children in the Wood," which is one of the darling fongs of the common people, and has been the delight of moft Englishmen in fome part of their age. This fong is a plain fimple copy of nature, deftitute of the helps and ornaments of art. The tale of it is a pretty tragical story, and pleafes for no other reafon but because it is a copy of nature. There is even a despicable fimplicity in the verfe; and yet becaufe the fentiments appear genuine and unaffected, they are able to move the mind of the moft polite reader with inward meltings of humanity and compassion. The incidents grow out of the fubje&t, and are fuch as are the most proper to excite pity; for which reafon the whole narration has fomething in it very moving, notwithstanding the author of it; whoever he was, has delivered it in fuch an abject phrafe and poornefs of expreffion, that the quoting any part of it would look like a defign of turning it into ridicule. But tho' the language is mean, the thoughts, as I have before faid, from one end to the other, are natural, and therefore cannot fail to please those who are not judges of language, or thofe who, notwithstanding they are judges of language, have a true and unprejudiced taste of nature. The condition, fpecch, and behaviour of the dying parents, with the age, innocence, and distress of the children, are fet forth in fuch tender circumftances, that it is impossible for a reader of common humanity not to be affected with them. As for the circumstance of the Robin-red-breaft, it is indeed a little poetical ornament; and to fhew the genius of the author amidst all his fimplicity, it is just the fame kind of fiction which one of the greatest of the Latin poets has made use of upon a parallel occafion; I mean that paffion in Horace, where he describes himself when he was a child, fallen asleep in a defert wood, and covered with leaves by the turtles that took pity on him. Me fabulofa Vulture in Apulo, Texere Od. 4. l. 3. v. 9. "In lofty Vulture's rifing grounds, "Without my nurfe Apulia's bounds, "When young, and tir'd with sport and play, "And bound with pleafing fleep I lay, "Doves cover'd me with myrtle boughs." CREECH. I have heard that the late Lord Borfet, who had the greatest wit, tempered with the greatest candor, and was one of the finest critics as well lection of old English ballads, and took a partias the best poets of his age, had a numerous colcular pleasure in the reading of them. I can affirm the fame of Mr. Dryden, and know several of the most refined writers of our prefent age who are of the fame humour, thoughts on this fubject, as he has expreffed them I might likewife refer my reader to Moliere's only who are endowed with a true greatness of in the character of the Mifanthrope; but thofe foul and genius can diveft themselves of the imacity and nakedness. As for the little conceited ges of ridicule, and admire nature in her fimpli. wits of the age, who can only fhew their judgment by finding fault, they cannot be fuppofed to admire thefe productions which have nothing to recommend them but the beauties of nature, when they do not know how to relish even thofe com. pcfitions that, with all the beauties of nature, have alfo the additional advantages of art. No 86. FRIDAY, JUNE 8. Heu quàm difficile eft crimen non prodere vultu! L 2 OVID. Met. 1. 2. v. 447€ How in the looks does confcious guilt appear! Τι ADDISON. HERE are feveral arts which all men are in fome measure mafters of, without having been at the pains of learning them. Every one that fpeaks or reafons is a grammarian and a logician, though he may be wholly unacquainted with the rules of grammar or logic, as they are delivered in books and fyftems. In the fame manner, every one is in fome degree a master of that art which is generally diftinguished by the name of Phyfiognomy; and naturally forms to himfelf the character or fortune of a ftranger, from the features and lineaments of his face. We are no fooner prefented to any one we never faw before, but we are immediately ftruck with the idea of a proud, a reserved, an affable, or a good natured |