Sir Philip Mordaunt was young, beautiful, sincere, brave, an Englishman. He had a complete fortune of his own, and the love of the king his master, which was equivalent to riches. Life opened all her treasures before him, and promised a long succession of happiness. He came, tasted of the entertainment, but was disgusted even at the beginning. He professed an aversion to living; was tired of walking round the same circle; had tried every enjoyment, and found them all grow weaker at every repetition. If life be, in youth, so 'displeasing,' cried he to himself, what will it appear 'when age comes on? if it be at present indifferent, 'sure it will then be execrable.' This thought embittered every reflection; till, at last, with all the serenity of perverted reason, he ended the debate with a pistol! Had this self-deluded man been apprised, that existence grows more desirable to us the longer we exist, he would have then faced old age without shrinking; he would have boldly dared to live; and served that society by his future assiduity, which he basely injured by his desertion.

ESSAY XV

ON THE PASSION OF WOMEN FOR LEVELLING ALL DISTINCTIONS OF DRESS

[Altered from On Dress' in The Bee, No. II]

FOREIGNERS observe that there are no ladies in the world more beautiful, or more ill-dressed, than those of England. Our country-women have been compared to those pictures where the face is the work of a Raphael, but the draperies thrown out by some empty pretender, destitute of taste, and unacquainted with design.

If I were a poet, I might observe, on this occasion,

that so much beauty, set off with all the advantages of dress, would be too powerful an antagonist for the opposite sex; and therefore it was wisely ordered, that our ladies should want taste, lest their admirers should entirely want reason.

But to confess a truth, I do not find they have a greater aversion to fine clothes than the women of any other country whatsoever. I can't fancy that a shopkeeper's wife in Cheapside has a greater tenderness for the fortune of her husband than a citizen's wife in Paris; or that Miss in a boarding-school is more an economist in dress than Mademoiselle in a nunnery.

Although Paris may be accounted the soil in which almost every fashion takes its rise, its influence is never so general there as with us. They study there the happy method of uniting grace and fashion, and never excuse a woman for being awkwardly dressed, by saying her clothes are in the mode. A Frenchwoman is a perfect architect in dress; she never, with Gothic ignorance, mixes the orders; she never tricks out a squabby Doric shape with Corinthian finery; or, to speak without metaphor, she conforms to a general fashion only when it happens not to be repugnant to private beauty.

The English ladies, on the contrary, seem to have no other standard of grace but the run of the town. If fashion gives the word, every distinction of beauty, complexion, or stature, ceases. Sweeping trains, Prussian bonnets, and trollopees, as like each other as if cut from the same piece, level all to one standard. The Mall, the gardens, and playhouses, are filled with ladies in uniform; and their whole appearance shows as little variety or taste as if their clothes were bespoke by the colonel of a marching regiment, or fancied by the artist who dresses the three battalions of guards.

But not only the ladies of every shape and complexion,

but of every age too, are possessed of this unaccountable passion for levelling all distinction in dress. The lady of no quality travels fast behind the lady of some quality; and a woman of sixty is as gaudy as her granddaughter. A friend of mine, a good-natured old man, amused me, the other day, with an account of his journey to the Mall. It seems, in his walk thither, he, for some time, followed a lady who, as he thought by her dress, was a girl of fifteen. It was airy, elegant, and youthful. My old friend had called up all his poetry on this occasion, and fancied twenty Cupids prepared for execution in every folding of her white negligee. He had prepared his imagination for an angel's face; but what was his mortification to find that the imaginary goddess was no other than his cousin Hannah, some years older than himself.

.

But to give it in his own words, 'After the transports of our first salute,' said he, 'were over, I could not avoid running my eye over her whole appearance. Her 'gown was of cambric, cut short before, in order to 'discover a high-heeled shoe, which was buckled " almost at the toe. Her cap consisted of a few bits of 'cambric, and flowers of painted paper stuck on one 'side of her head. Her bosom, that had felt no hand 'but the hand of time these twenty years, rose suing 'to be pressed. I could, indeed, have wished her more 'than a handkerchief of Paris net to shade her beauties; 'for, as Tasso says of the rose-bud, "Quanto se mostra men tanto e piu bella." A female breast is generally 'thought more beautiful as it is more sparingly discovered.

As my cousin had not put on all this finery for 'nothing, she was at that time sallying out to the Park, 'when I had overtaken her. Perceiving, however, that 'I had on my best wig, she offered, if I would 'squire her 'there, to send home the footman. Though I trembled 'for our reception in public, yet I could not, with any

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'civility, refuse; so, to be as gallant as possible, I took ' her hand in my arm, and thus we marched on together.

'When we made our entry at the Park, two antiquated 'figures, so polite and so tender, soon attracted the eyes ' of the company. As we made our way among crowds who were out to show their finery as well as we, where'ever we came, I perceived we brought good-humour 'with us. The polite could not forbear smiling, and the 'vulgar burst out into a horse-laugh at our grotesque figures. Cousin Hannah, who was perfectly conscious ' of the rectitude of her own appearance, attributed all 'this mirth to the oddity of mine; while I as cordially 'placed the whole to her account. Thus, from being two ' of the best-natured creatures alive, before we got half'way up the Mall, we both began to grow peevish, and, 'like two mice on a string, endeavoured to revenge the 'impertinence of the spectators upon each other. "I am ' amazed, cousin Jeffery," says Miss, "that I can never get you to dress like a Christian. I knew we should ' have the eyes of the Park upon us, with your great wig, 'so frizzled, and yet so beggarly, and your monstrous 'muff. I hate those odious muffs." I could have 'patiently borne a criticism on all the rest of my equipage; but, as I had had always a peculiar veneration for my muff, I could not forbear being piqued

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a little; and throwing my eyes with a spiteful air on her bosom, "I could heartily wish, madam," replied 'I," that, for your sake, my muff was cut into a tippet." As my cousin, by this time, was grown heartily ' ashamed of her gentleman-usher, and as I was never 'very fond of any kind of exhibition myself, it was mutually agreed to retire for a while to one of the

seats, and from that retreat remark on others as freely as they had remarked on us.

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When seated we continued silent for some time,

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'employed in very different speculations. I regarded 'the whole company, now passing in review before me, as drawn out merely for my amusement. For my 'entertainment the beauty had, all that morning, been improving her charms; the beau had put on lace, and 'the young doctor a big wig, merely to please me. But quite different were the sentiments of cousin Hannah ; she regarded every well-dressed woman as a victorious rival; hated every face that seemed dressed in good humour, or wore the appearance of greater happiness than her own. I perceived her uneasiness, and at'tempted to lessen it, by observing that there was no company in the Park to-day. To this she readily assented; "and yet," says she, "it is full enough of 'scrubs of one kind or another." My smiling at this 'observation gave her spirits to pursue the bent of her inclination, and now she began to exhibit her skill in 'secret history, as she found me disposed to listen. "Observe," says she to me, "that old woman in tawdry 'silk, and dressed out beyond the fashion. That is 'Miss Biddy Evergreen. Miss Biddy, it seems, has money; and as she considers that money was never so scarce as it is now, she seems resolved to keep what she has to herself. She is ugly enough, you see; yet, I assure you, she has refused several offers, to my own 'knowledge, within this twelvemonth. Let me see; three gentlemen from Ireland who study the law, two 'waiting-captains, her doctor, and a Scotch preacher, ́ who had like to have carried her off. All her time is 'passed between sickness and finery. Thus she spends the whole week in a close chamber, with no other company but her monkey, her apothecary, and cat; ' and comes dressed out to the Park every Sunday, 'to show her airs, to get new lovers, to catch a new cold, ' and to make new work for the doctor.

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