« 이전계속 »
ss is unlawful. But alas ! in the Dominions of Pharaso mond, by the Force of a Tyrant Custom, which is '«r mil-named a Point of Honour, the Duellist kills his W Friend whom he loves; and the Judge condemas the • Duellist, while he approves his Behaviour. . Shame is « the greatest of all Evils; what avail Laws, when “ Death only attends the Breach of them, and Shame “ Obedience to them? As for me, oh Pharamond, were « it possible to describe the nameless Kinds of Compun, “ étions and Tendernesses I feel, when I reflect upon “ the little Accidents in our former Familiarity, my “ Mind swells into Sorrow which cannot be refifted st enough to be silent in the Presence of Pharamond. With
that he fell into a Flood of Tears, and wept aloud. 6 Why should not Pharamond hear the Anguilh he only so can relieve others from in Time to come? Let him hear “ from me, what they feel who have given Death by the “ false Mercy of his Administration, and form to himself " the Vengeance called for by those wbo haye perished to by his Negligence,
ఆ అస్త్రజ్ఞుడుల N°85. Thursday, June 7. :
Interdum fpeciofa locis, morataque recte · Fabula nullius Veneris, fine pondere e Arte, · Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur, · Quam versus inopes rerum, nugeque canora. Hor, IT is the Custom of the Mahometans, if they see any I printed or written Paper upon the Ground, to take
it up and lay it aside carefully, as not knowing but it may contain some Piece of their Alcoran. I must confess I have so much of .che Mussulman in me, that I cannot forbear looking into every printed Paper which comes in my Way, under whatsoever despicable CircumAtances it may appear : For as no mortal Author, in the ordinary Fate and Vicissitude of Thing; knows to what Use his Works may, fome 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 önce with the Writings of a Prelate; and know a Friend of mine, who, for these several Years, has converted the Efsays of a Man of Quality into a kind of Fringe for his Candlefticks. I remember in particular, after having read over a Poem of an eminent Author on i Vi&tory, I met with feveral Fragments of it upon the next rejoicing Day, which had beon employed in Squib's and Crackers, and by that Means celebrated its Subject in a double Capacity. I once met with a Page of Mr. Baxter under a Christmas Pye. Whether or no the Pas Ary-Cook had made ufe of it through Chance or Wag. gery, for the Defence of that superstitious Viande, know not, but upon the Perufal of it, I conceived so good an Idea of the Author's Piery, 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 Shops of our London Booksellers. For this Reason when my Friends take a Survey of my Library, they are very much surprized to find, upon the Shelf of Folios, two long Band-boxes standing upright among my Books, till I let them see that they are both of them lined with deep Erudition and abitrufe Literature. I might likewise 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 inquisitive Temper, or rather impertinent Hu. mour of prging into all Sorts of Writing, with my natüral Aversion to Loquacity, give me a good deal of Employment when I enter any House in the Country, for I cannot for my Heart leave a Room, before I have thoroughly studied the Walls of it, and examined the several printed Papers which are usually pafted upon them. The last Piece that I met with upon this Occalion, gave me a most exquisite Pleasure. My Reader will think I am not serious, when I acquaint him that the Piece I am going to speak of was the old Ballad of the Two Children in the Wood, which is one of the darling Songs of the common People, and has been the Delight of moft En. glijhmen in some part of their Age.
THIS Song is a plain fimple Copy of Nature, defti. tute of all the Helps and Ornaments of Art. The Tale of it is a pretty tragical Story, and pleases for no other Reason but because it is a copy of Nature. There is even a despicable Simplicity in the Verse; and yet because the Sentiments appear genuine and unaffeded, they are able to move the Mind of the moft polite Reader with ine ward Meltings of Humanity and Compassion, The Insidents grow out of the Subject, and are such as are the molt proper to excite Pity; for which reason the whole Narration has something in it very moving, notwithftanding the Author of ic (whoever he was) has deliver'd it in fuch an abject Phrafe and Poornefs of Expression, that thie quoting any Part of it would look like a Design of turning it into Ridicule. But though 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 those who, notwithstanding they are Judges of Language, have a true and unprejudiced Taste of Nature. The Con dition, Speech, and Behaviour of the dying Parents, with the Age, Innocence, and Distress of the Children, are set forth in such tender Circumstances, that it is impof fible for a Reader of conimon Humanity not to be af feated with them. As for the Circumstance of the Robin-red-breast, it is indeed a little poetical Ornaments and to thew the Genius of the Author amidst all his Simplicity, it is just the same kind of Fi&tion which one of the greatest of the Latin Poets has made use of upon a parallel Occasion; I mean that Passage in Horace, where he describes himself when he was a Child, fallen asleep in a desart Wood and covered with Leaves by the Turdes that took pity on him.
Me fabulosa Vulture in Appulo,'
Fronde novâ puerum palumbes
TexereI have heard that the late Lord Dorset, who had the greateft Wit tempered with the greatest Candour, and was one of the finest Crisisks as well as the best Poets
of his "Age, had a numerous Collection of old English Ballads, and took a particular Pleasure in the Reading of them. I can affirm the same of Mr. Dryden, and know 'several of the moft refined Writers of our present Age who are of the same Humour.
I might likewise refer my Reader to Moliere's Thoughts on this Subjed, as he has expressed them in the Character of the Misanthrope ; but those only who are endowed with a true Greatness or Soul and 'Genius can divest themselves of the little Images of Ridicule, and admire Nature in her Simplicity and Nakedness. As for the little conceited Wits of the Age, who can only shew their Judgment by finding Fault, they cannot be supposed to admire thefe Produětions which have nothing to recommend them but the Beauties of Nature, when they do not know how to relish even those Compositions that, with all the Beauties of Nature, have also the additional Advantages of Art..
Friday, June 8.
· Heu quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu! Ovid. THERE are several Arts which all Men are in
some measure Masters of, without having been
at the Pains of learning them. Every one that Speaks or reasons is a Grammarian and a Logician, tho' he may be wholly unacquainted with the Rules of Grammar or Logick, as they are delivered in Books and Systems. In the fame manner, every one is in some Degree a Master of that Art which is generally diftin. guished by the Name of Phisiognomy; and naturally forms to himself the Character or Fortune of a Stranger, from the Features and Lineaments of his Face. We are no sooner presented to any one we never saw before, but we are immediately struck with the Idea of a proud, a reserved, an affable, or a good-natured Man; and upon our first going into a Company of Strangers, our Benevolence or Aversion, Awe or Contempt, rises na
turally towards several particular Persons, before we have heard them speak a single Word, or so much as know who they are.
EVERY Pallion gives a particular Cast to the Coun. tenance, and is apt to discover it self in some Feature or other. I have seen an Eye curse for half an Hour together, and an Eye-brow call a Man Scoundrel. Nothing is more common than for Lovers to coniplain, resent, languilh, despair, and die, in dumb Show. For my own Part, I am fo apt to frame a Notion of every Man's Hu. mour or Circumstances by his Looks, that I have sometimes employed iny self from Charing-Cross to the Royal-Exchange in drawing the Character of those who have passed by ine. When I see a Man witli a four rivell'd Face, I cannot forbear pitying his Wife; and when I meet with an open ingenuous Countenance, think on the Happinels of his Friends, his Family, and Relations.
I cannot recollect the Author of a famous Saying to a Stranger who stood silent in his Company, Speak that I may see thee : But, with Submission, I think we may be better known by our Looks than by our Words, and that a Man's Speech is much more easily disguised than his Countenance. In this Case, however, I think the Air of the whole Face is much more expressive than the Lines of it: The Truth of it is, the Air is generally nothing elle but the inward Disposition of the Mind made visible.
THOSE who have established Physiognomy into an Art, and laid down Rules of judging Mens Tempers by their Faces, have regarded the Features much more thaiz the Air. Martial has a pretty Epigram on this Subject. · Crine ruber, niger ore, brevis pede, lumine lefus į
Rem magnam prastas, Zoile, si bonus es.
Should'st thou be honest, thou’rt a dev’lish Cheat, I have seen a very ingenious Author on this Subject, who founds his Speculations on the Supposition, That as a Man hath in the Mould of his Face a remote Likeness • Vol. II.