mark them with comparison of their beauty. | few days in a brocade more gorgeous and costly They now no longer enjoyed the ease of mind and than had ever before appeared in that latitude. pleasing indolence in which they were formerly Brunetta languished at the sight, and could by no happy, but all their words and actions were mis- means come up to the bravery of her antagonist. interpreted by each other, and every excellence in She communicated her anguish of mind to a faiththeir speech and behavior was looked upon as an ful friend, who, by an interest in the wife of Philact of emulation to surpass the other. These be- lis's merchant, procured a remnant of the same ginnings of disinclination soon improved into a silk for Brunetta. Phillis took pains to appear in formality of behavior, a general coldness, and by all public places where she was sure to meet Brunatural steps into an irreconcilable hatred. netta; Brunetta was now prepared for the insult, and came to a public ball in a plain black silk mantua, attended by a beautiful negro girl in a petticoat of the same brocade with which Phillis was attired. This drew the attention of the whole company, upon which the unhappy Phillis swooned away, and was immediately conveyed to her house. As soon as she came to herself, she fled from her husband's house, went on board a ship in the road, and is now landed in inconsolable despair at Plymouth. POSTSCRIPT. After the above melancholy narration, it may perhaps be a relief to the reader to peruse the following expostulation: "To MR. SPECTATOR, These two rivals for the reputation of beauty, were, in their stature, countenance, and mien, so very much alike, that if you were speaking of them in their absence, the words in which you described the one must give you an idea of the other. They were hardly distinguishable, you would think, when they were apart, though extremely different when together. What made their enmity the more entertaining to all the rest of their sex was, that in detraction from each, neither could fall upon any terms which did not hit herself as much as her adversary. Their nights grew restless with meditation of new dresses to outvie each other, and inventing new devices to recall admirers, who observed the charms of the one rather than those of the other, on the last meeting. Their colors failed at each other's appearance, flushed with pleasure at the report of a disadvantage, and "The just Remonstrance of affronted THAT. their countenances withered upon instances of ap- "THOUGH I deny not the petition of Mess. WHO plause. The decencies to which women are oblig- and WHICH, yet you should not suffer them to be ed, made these virgins stifle their resentment so rude, and to call honest people names: for that far as not to break into open violences, while they bears very hard on some of those rules of decency equally suffered the torments of a regulated anger. which you are justly famous for establishing. Their mothers, as it is usual, engaged in the They may find fault, and correct speeches in the quarrel, and supported the several pretensions of senate and at the bar, but let them try to get themtheir daughters with all that ill-chosen sort of ex-selves so often, and with so much eloquence, repense which is common with people of plentiful peated in a sentence, as a great orator doth frefortunes and mean taste. The girls preceded their quently introduce me. parents like queens of May, in all the gaudy colors imaginable, on every Sunday to church, and were exposed to the examination of the audience for superiority of beauty. "My lords!' says he, with humble submission, That That I say is this; That, That That gentleman has advanced, is not That That he should have proved to your lordships.' Let these two questionary petitioners try to do thus with their Whos and their Whiches. "What great advantange was I of to Mr. Dryden in his Indian Emperor, 'You force me still to answer you in That'— to furnish out a rhyme to Morat? and what a poor figure would Mr. Bayes have made without his Egad and all That? How can a judicious man distinguish one thing from another, without saying, This here,' or That there? And how can a sober man, without using the expletives of oaths (in which indeed the rakes and bullies have a great advantage over others), make a discourse of any tolerable length, without That is; and if he' be a very grave man indeed, without That is to say? And how instructive as well as entertaining are those usual expressions in the mouths of great men, 'Such things as That,' and 'The like of That.' 6 During this constant struggle it happened, that Phillis one day at public prayers smote the heart of a gay West Indian, who appeared in all the colors which can affect an eye that could not distinguish between being fine and tawdry. This American, in a Summer-island suit, was too shining and too gay to be resisted by Phillis, and too intent upon her charms to be diverted by any of the labored attractions of Brunetta. Soon after, Brunetta had the mortification to see her rival disposed of in a wealthy marriage, while she was only addressed to in a manner that showed she was the admiration of all men, but the choice of none. Phillis was carried to the habitation of her spouse in Barbadoes. Brunetta had the ill-nature to inquire for her by every opportunity, and had the misfortune to hear of her being attended by numerous slaves, fanned into slumbers by successive bands of them, and carried from place to place in all the pomp of barbarous magnificence. Brunetta could not endure these repeated advices, "I am not against reforming the corruptions of but employed all her arts and charms in laying speech you mention, and own there are proper baits for any of condition of the same island, out seasons for the introduction of other words beside of a mere ambition to confront her once more That; but I scorn as much to supply the place of before she died. She at last succeeded in her a Who or a Which at every turn, as they are unedesign, and was taken to wife by a gentleman qual always to fill mine; and I expect good lanwhose estate was contiguous to that of her ene-guage and civil treatment, and hope to receive it my's husband. It would be endless to enumerate for the future: That, That I shall only add is, the many occasions on which these irreconcilable That I am, "Yours, beauties labored to excel each other; but in process of time it happened, that a ship put into the island consigned to a friend of Phillis, who had directions to give her the refusal of all goods for apparel, before Brunetta could be alarmed of their arrival. He did so, and Phillis was dressed in a R. "THAT." No. 81. SATURDAY, JUNE 2, 1711. Qualis ubi audito venantum murmure tigris Horruit in maculasSTAT. Theb. ii, 128. As when the tigress hears the hunter's din, Dark angry spots distain her glossy skin. ABOUT the middle of last winter I went to see an opera at the theater in the Hay-market, where I could not but take notice of two parties of very fine women, that had placed themselves in the opposite side-boxes, and seemed drawn up in a kind of battle array one against another. After a short survey of them, I found they were patched differently; the faces on one hand being spotted on the right side of the forehead, and those upon the other on the left. I quickly perceived that they cast hostile glances upon one another; and that their patches were placed in those different situations, as party-signals to distinguish friends from foes. In the middle-boxes, between these two opposite bodies, were several ladies who patched indifferently on both sides of their faces, and seemed to sit there with no other intention but to see the opera. Upon inquiry I found that the body of Amazons on my right hand were whigs, and those on my left tories; and that those who had placed themselves in the middle boxes were a neutral party, whose faces had not yet declared themselves. These last, however, as I afterward found, diminished daily, and took their party with one side or the other; insomuch that I observed, in several of them, the patches which were before dispersed equally, are now all gone over to the whig or tory side of the face. The censorious say, that the men, whose hearts are aimed at, are very often the occasions that one part of the face is thus dishonored, and lies under a kind of disgrace, while the other is so much set off and adorned by the owner: and that the patches turn to the right or to the left, according to the principles of the man who is most in favor. But whatever may be the motives of a few fantastical coquettes, who do not patch for the public good so much as for their own private advantage, it is certain, that there are several women of honor who patch out of principle, and with an eye to the interest of their country.-Nay, I am informed that some of them adhere so steadfastly to their party, and are so far from sacrificing their zeal for the public to their passion for any particular person, that, in a late draught of marriage articles, a lady has stipulated with her husband, that whatever his opinions are, she shall be at liberty to patch on which side she pleases. I must here take notice, that Rosalinda, a famous whig partisan, has most unfortunately a very beautiful mole on the tory part of her forehead: which being very conspicuous, has occasioned many mistakes, and given a handle to her enemies to misrepresent her face, as though it had revolted from the whig interest. But, whatever this natural patch may seem to insinuate, it is well known that her notions of government are still the same. This unlucky mole, however, has misled several coxcombs; and, like the hanging out of false colors, made some of them converse with Rosalinda in what they thought the spirit of her party, when on a sudden she has given them an unexpected fire, that has sunk them all at once. If Rosalinda is unfortunate in her mole, Nigranilla is as unhappy in a pimple, which forces her, against her inclinations, to patch on the whig side. I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial spotting of the face was unlawful, are now reconciled by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be prompted to by a concern for their beauty. This way of declaring war up another, puts me in mind of what is repo the tigress-that several spots rise in h when she is angry, or, as Mr. Cowley has i the verses that stand as the motto of this ] She swells with angry pride, And calls forth all her spots on every side.* When I was in the theater the time abo tioned, I had the curiosity to count the on both sides, and found the tory patche about twenty stronger than the whig; but amends for this small inequality, I the nex ing found the whole puppet-show filled wi spotted after the whiggish manner. Wh no the ladies had retreated hither in order their forces I cannot tell; but the next nig came in so great a body to the opera, tỉ outnumbered the enemy. This account of party-patches will, I an appear improbable to those who live at a from the fashionable world; but as it is tinction of a very singular nature, and w haps may never meet with a parallel, I should not have discharged the office of a Spectator, had not I recorded it. I have, in former papers, endeavored to this party-rage in women, as it only serve gravate the hatreds and animosities th: among men, and in a great measure depr fair sex of those peculiar charms with wh ture has endowed them. When the Romans and Sabines were at just upon the point of giving battle, the who were allied to both of them, interpo: so many tears and entreaties, that they P the mutual slaughter which threatened b ties, and united them together in a firm a ing peace. I would recommend this noble exampl British ladies, at a time when their countr with so many unnatural divisions, that continue, it will be a misfortune to be bot The Greeks thought it so improper for w interest themselves in competitions and tions, that for this reason, among others, bade them, under pain of death, to be p the Olympic games, notwithstanding th the public diversions of all Greece. a As our English women exceed those otions in beauty, they should endeavor to them in all other accomplishments prope sex, and to distinguish themselves mothers and faithful wives, rather than a partisans. Female virtues are of a domes The family is the proper province for women to shine in. If they must be their zeal for the public, let it not be agai who are perhaps of the same family, or a the same religion or nation, but against t are the open, professed, undoubted en their faith, liberty, and country. When mans were pressed with a foreign en ladies voluntarily contributed all their r jewels to assist the government under exigence, which appeared so laudable an the eyes of their countrymen, that from forth it was permitted by a law to pronou lic orations at the funeral of a woman of the deceased person, which till that peculiar to men. Would our English 1 stead of sticking on a patch against thos own country, show themselves so trulspirited as to sacrifice every one her against the common enemy, what decre not to be made in favor of them? Davideis, Book III, page 409, Vol. II, 17 Since I am recollecting upon this subject such and humors, with the pains they both take for the passages as occur to my memory out of ancient accomplishment of the ends mentioned in the authors, I cannot omit a sentence in the celebrated above verses of Denham,* I cannot much wonder funeral oration of Pericles, which he made in honor of those brave Athenians that were slain in a fight with the Lacedæmonians.* After having addressed himself to the several ranks and orders of his countrymen, and shown them how they should behave themselves in his public cause, he turns to the female part of the audience: "And as for you," says he, "I shall advise you in very few words. Aspire only to those virtues that are peculiar to your sex; follow your natural modesty, and think it your greatest commendation not to be talked of one way or other." C. there are ten where a man, to keep up a farce of retinue and grandeur within his own house, shall shrink at the expectation of surly demands at his doors. The debtor is the creditor's criminal; and all the officers of power and state, whom we behold make so great a figure, are no other than so many persons in authority to make good his charge against him. Human society depends upon his having the vengeance law allots him; and the debtor owes his liberty to his neighbor, as much as the murderer does his life to his prince. at the endeavor after gain, but am extremely astonished that men can be so insensible of the danger of running into debt. One would think it impossible that a man who is given to contract debts should not know, that his creditor has, from that moment in which he transgresses payment, so much as that demand comes to, in his debtor's honor, liberty, and fortune. One would think he did not know that his creditor can say the worst thing imaginable of him, to-wit, "That he is unjust," without defamation; and can seize his person, without being guilty of an assault. Yet such is the loose and abandoned turn of some men's minds, that they can live under these constant apprehensions, and still go on to increase No. 82.] MONDAY, JUNE 4, 1711. the cause of them. Can there be a more low and servile condition, than to be ashamed or afraid to -Caput domina venale sub hasta. Juv., Sat. iii, 33. see any one man breathing? Yet he that is much in debt, is in that condition with relation to twenty His fortune ruin'd, and himself a slave. different people. There are indeed circumstances PASSING under Ludgate+ the other day, I heard a wherein men of honest natures may become liable voice brawling for charity, which I thought I had to debts, by some unadvised behavior in any great somewhere heard before. Coming near to the grate, point of their life, or mortgaging a man's honesty the prisoner called me by my name, and desired as a security for that of another, and the like; but I would throw something into the box; I was out these instances are so particular and circumstanof countenance for him, and did as he bid me, by tiated, that they cannot come within general conputting in half-a-crown. I went away, reflect-siderations. For one such case as one of these, ing upon the strange constitution of some men, and how meanly they behave themselves in all sorts of conditions. The person who begged of me is now, I take it, fifty: I was well acquainted with him till 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 extravagances imaginable; was frequently in drunken disputes, broke drawers' heads, talked and swore loud, was unmannerly to those above, and insolent to those below him. I could not but remark, that it was Our gentry are, generally speaking, in debt; the same baseness of spirit which worked in his and many families have put it into a kind of behavior in both fortunes: the same little mind method of being so from generation to generation. was insolent in riches, and shameless in poverty. The father mortgages when his son is very young; This accident made me muse upon the circum-and the boy is to marry, as soon as he is at age, stance of being in debt in general, and solve in to redeem it and find portions for his sisters. my mind what tempers were most apt to fall into This, forsooth, is no great inconvenience to him; this error of life, as well as the misfortune it must for he may wench, keep a public table, or feed needs be to languish under such pressures. As dogs, like a worthy English gentleman, till he for myself, my natural aversion to that sort of has out-run half his estate, and leave the same conversation which makes a figure with the gene-incumbrance upon his first-born, and so on; till rality of mankind, exempts me from any temptations to expense; and all my business lies within a very narrow compass, which is only to give an honest man who takes care of my estate, proper vouchers for his quarterly payments to me, and observe what linen my laundress brings and takes away with her once a week. My steward brings his receipt ready for my signing; and I have a pretty implement with the respective names of shirts, cravats, handkerchiefs, and stockings, with proper numbers, to know how to reckon with my laundress. This being almost all the business I have in the world for the care of my own affairs, I am at full leisure to observe upon what others do with relation to their equipage and economy. When I walk the street and observe the hurry about me in this town, Where, with like haste, through several ways they run; I say, when I behold this vast variety of persons Thuyol. "Hist.," L. II, p. 130, edit. H. Steph., 1588, folio. Ludgate was a prison for such debtors as were freemen of the city of London; it was taken down in the year 1762, and the prisoners removed to the London workhouse. one man of more vigor than ordinary goes quite through the estate, or some man of sense comes into it, and scorns to have an estate in partnership, that is to say, liable to the demand or insult 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-suit, in all the perplexity of business, and the iniquity of mankind at present; no one had any color for the least 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 suffered a disadvantage 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, unresisting good-nature, which makes him incapable of having a property in anything. His fortune, his man's service that comes first. When he was at reputation, his time, and his capacity, are at any school he was whipped thrice a week for faults he took upon him to excuse others; since he came * From his poem entitled "Cooper's Hill." into the business of the world, he has been arrested twice or thrice a-year for debts he had nothing to do with, but as surety for others; and I remember when a friend of his had suffered in the vice of the town, all the physic his friend took was conveyed to him by Jack, and inscribed "A bolus or an electuary for Mr. Truepenny." Jack had a good estate left him, which came to nothing; because he believed all who pretended to demands upon it. This easiness and credulity destroy all the other merit he has; and he has all his life been a sacrifice to others, without ever receiving thanks, or doing one good action. I will end this discourse with a speech which I heard Jack make to one of his creditors (of whom he deserved gentler usage) after lying a whole night in custody at his suit. Sir, your ingratitude for the many kindnesses I have done you, shall not make me unthankful for the good you have done me, in letting me see there is such a man as you in the world. I am obliged to you for the diffidence I shall have all the rest of my life: I shall hereafter trust no man so far as to be in his debt.”—R. No. 83.] TUESDAY, JUNE 5, 1711. VIRG. En., i, 464. seasons. I was some weeks ago in a course of these diversions, which had taken such an entire possession of my imagination, that they formed in it a short morning's dream, which I shall communicate to my reader, rather as the first sketch and outlines of a vision, than as a finished piece. either sex. The toujours gai appeared judges, bishops, and privy counsel word, all his men were petits maitres, women coquettes. The drapery of his extremely well suited to his faces, and up of all the glaring colors that coul together; every part of the dress was and endeavored to distinguish itself rest. On the left hand of Vanity stood workman who I found was his humb and copied after him. He was dre German, and had a very hard name, th something like Stupidity. The third artist that I looked ove tasque, dressed like a Venetian scara had an excellent hand at chimera, an much in distortions and grimaces. sometimes affright himself with the that flowed from his pencil. In sho elaborate of his pieces was at best but dream; and one could say nothing finest figures, than that they wer monsters. The fourth person I examined was able for his hasty hand, which left hi unfinished that the beauty in the pic was designed to continue as a monu posterity) faded sooner than in the whom it was drawn. He made so m dispatch his business, that he neither time to clean his pencils, nor mix his name of this expeditious workman w Not far from this artist I saw anoth different nature, who was dressed i of a Dutchman, and known by the dustry. His figures were wonderfu If he drew the portraiture of a man omit a single hair in his face; if th ship, there was not a rope among th escaped him. He had likewise hung of the wall with night pieces, tha show themselves by the candles lighted up in several parts of them; inflamed by the sunshine which acc upon them, that at first sight I coul bear crying out "Fire." The five foregoing artists were th siderable on this side the gallery indeed several others whom I had look into. One of them, however, forbear observing, who was very bus ing the finest pieces, though he originals of his own. His pencil every feature that was before overch every defect, and poisoned every col Though this workman did so mucl I dreamt that I was admitted into a long, spa- the side of the living, he never tu cious gallery, which had one side covered with toward that of the dead. His name pieces of all the famous painters who are now Having taken a cursory view of o living, and the other with the works of the great-gallery, I turned myself to that whi est masters that are dead. by the works of those great maste dead; when immediately I fancied 1 ing before a multitude of spectato sands of eyes looking upon me at before me appeared so like men and I almost forgot they were picture figures stood in one row, Titian' Guido Rheni's in a third. One pa was peopled by Hannibal_Carracce Correggio, and another by Rubens. there was not a great master among had not contributed to the embellis side of the gallery. The persons th being to these several masters, ap them to be real and alive, and di one another only in the variety of On the side of the living, I saw several persons busy in drawing, coloring, and designing. On the side of the dead painters, I could not discover more than one person at work, who was exceed ingly slow in his motions, and wonderfully nice in his touches. I was resolved to examine the several artists that stood before me, and accordingly applied myself to the side 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 dressed like a Frenchman. All the faces he drew were very remarkable for their smiles, and a certain smirking air which he bestowed indifferently on every age and degree of complexions, and clothes; so that they looked like different nations of the same species. Observing an old man (who was the same person I before mentioned as the only artist that was at work on this side 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 motions. I found his pencil was so very light, that it worked imperceptibly, and, after a thousand touches, scarce produced any visible effect in the picture on which he was employed. However, as he busied himself incessantly, and repeated touch after touch without rest or intermission, he wore off insensibly every little disagreeable gloss that hung upon a figure. He also added such a beautiful brown to the shades and mellowness to the colors, 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, discovered 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 survey of this imaginary old man, my sleep left me.-C. No. 84.] WEDNESDAY, JUNE, 6, 1711. Myrmidonum Dolupomve aut duri miles Ulyssei Temperet a lachrymis?-VIRG. Æn., ii, 6. Who can such woes relate, without a tear, As stern Ulysses must have wept to hear? LOOKING over the old manuscript 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 same principles and passions in all ages, I thought it very proper to take minutes of what passed in that age, for the instruction of this. The antiquary who lent me these papers gave me a character of Eucrate, the favorite 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 insert here, because I may have occasion to mention many of their conversations, into which these 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 Eucrate, by putting his hand to his face, placing his arm negligently on a window, or some such action as appeared indifferent to all the rest of the company. Upon such notice, unobserved by others (for their entire intimacy was always a secret), Eucrate repaired to his own apartment to receive the king. There was a secret access to this part of the court, at which Eucrate used to admit many, whose mean appearance in the eyes of the ordinary waiters and doorkeepers made them be repulsed from other parts of the palace. Such as these 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 say were bribes received by Eucrate; for Eucrate had the most compassionate spirit of all men living, except his generous master, who was always kindled at the least affliction which was communicated to him. In regard for the miserable, Eucrate took particular care that the proper forms of distress, and the idle pretenders to sorrow, about courts, who wanted only supplies to luxury, should never obtain favor by his means; but the distresses which arise from the many inexplicable occurrences that happen among men, the unaccountable alienation of parents from their children, cruelty of husbands to wives, poverty occasioned from shipwreck or fire, the falling out of friends, or such other terrible disasters to which the life of man is exposed,-in cases of this nature, Eucrate was the patron, and enjoyed this part of the royal favor so much without being envied, that it was never inquired into, by whose means, what no one else 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 that was natural to him), What, there any one too miserable to be relieved by Pharamond, that Eucrate is melancholy?' 'I fear there is,' answered the favorite: A person without, of a good air, well dressed, and though a man in the strength of life, seems to faint under some inconsolable calamity. All his features seem suffused with agony of mind; but I can observe in him, that it is more inclined to break away in tears than rage. I asked him what he would have. He said he would speak to Pharamond. I desired his business. He could hardly say to me, Eucrate, carry me to the king, my story is not to be told twice; I fear I shall not be able to speak it at all.' Pharamond commanded Eucrate to let him enter; he did so, and the gentleman approached the king with an air which spoke him under the greatest concern in what manner to demean himself. The king, who had a quick discerning, relieved him from the oppression he was under; and with the most beautiful complacency said to him, 'Sir, do not add to that load of sorrow I see in your countenance the awe of my presence. Think you are speaking to your friend. If the circumstances of your distress will admit of it, you shall find me so.' To whom the stranger: Oh, excellent Pharamond, 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 Spinamont, it was by the guilt of Pharamond. I come not, oh excellent prince, to implore your pardon; I come to relate my sorrow, a sorrow too great for human life to support; from henceforth shall all occurrences appear dreams, or short intervals of amusement from this one affliction, which has seized 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 good as you are, are guilty of the generous blood spilt this day by this unhappy hand. O that it had perished before that instant!' Here the stranger paused, and recollecting his mind, after some little meditation, he went on in a calmer tone and gesture as follows: you, There is an authority due to distress, and as none of human race is above the reach of sorrow, none should be above the hearing the voice of it; I am sure Pharamond is not. Know then, that I have this morning unfortunately killed in a duel, the man whom of all men living I most loved. I command myself too much in your royal presence, to say Pharamond gave me my friend! Pharamond has taken him from me! I will not say, shall the merciful Pharamond destroy his own subjects? Will the father of his country murder his people? But the merciful Pharamond Mr. Thornhill, the gentleman here alluded to under the mondley Deering, of Kent, Bart., in a duel, May 9, 1711. fictitious or translated name of Spinamont, killed Sir Chol |
