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known that her notions of government are ftill the fame. This unlucky mole, however, has mifled feveral coxcombs; and, like the hanging out of false colours, made fome of them converse with Rofalinda in what they thought the fpirit of her party, when on a fudden the has given them an unexpected fire, that has funk them all at once. If Rofalinda is unfortunate in her mole, Nigranilla is as unhappy in a pimple, which forces her, against her inclinations, to patch on the Whig fide.

I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial fpotting of the face was unlawful, are now reconciled by a zeal for their caufe, to what they could not be prompted by a concern for their beauty. This way of declaring war upon one another, puts me in mind of what is reported of the tigrefs, that feveral fpots rife in her fkin when he is angry, or as Mr. Cowley has imitated the verfes that ftand as the motto of this paper,

She fwells with angry pride,
And calls forth all her fpots on every fide.

When I was in the theatre the time above-mentioned, I had the curiofity to count the patches on both fides, and found the Tory patches to be about twenty ftronger than the Whig; but to make amends for this fmall inequality, I the next morning found the whole puppet-how filled with faces fpotted after the Whiggish manner. Whether or no the ladies had retreated hither in order to rally their forces, I cannot tell; but the next night they came in fo great a body to the opera, that they outBumbered the enemy.

This account of party patches will, I am afraid, appear improbable to thof who live at a dittance from the fashionable world: but as it is a distinction of a very fingular nature, and what perhaps may never meet with a parallel, I think I fhould not have difcharged the office of a faithful Spectator, had not I recorded it.

I have, in former papers, endeavoured to expofe this party-rage in women, as it only ferves to aggravate the hatreds and animofities that reign among men, and in a great measure deprives the fairfex of thofe peculiar charms with which nature has endowed them.

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 in a firm and lafting peace.

I would recommend this noble example to our British ladies, at a time when their country is torn with fo many unnatural divifions, that if they continue, it will be a misfortune to be born in it. The Greeks thought it so improper for women to interest 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, notwithftanding thefe were the public diverfions of all Greece.

As our English women excel thofe of all other nations in beauty, they fhould endeavour to outline them in all other accomplishments proper to the fex, and to diftinguish themselves as tender mothers, and faithful wives, rather than as furious partifans. Female virtues are of a domestic turn. The family is the proper province for private women to thine in. If they must be fhewing their zeal for the public, let it not be against thofe who are perhaps of the fame family, or at leaft of the fame religion or nation, but against those who are the open, professed, 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 thenceforth it was permitted by a law to prove, public orations, at the fu

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1a vonon, in praise of the dece red prison, which until that time was peopliai to men. Would our English ladies, inted of ticking on a patch against thofe of their own country, fhew themselves to truly public-fpirited as to facrifice every one her necklace againft the common enemy, what decrees ought not to be made in favour of them?

Since I am recollecting upon this fubje&t 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 thofe brave Athenians that were flain in a fight with the Lacede

monians,

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Juv. SAT. III. v. 33.

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 almoft all the bufinefs I have in the world for the care of my own affairs, I am at full leifure to obferve upon what others do, with relation to their equipage and economy.

PASSING under Ludgate the other
day, I heard a voice bawling for
charity which I thought I had fome-
where heard before. Coming near to
the grate, the prifoner called me by my
name, and defired I would throw fome-
thing into the box: I was out of coun-
tenance for him, and did as he bid me,
by putting in half a crown. I went
away, reflecting upon the ftrange con-
titution 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 eftate fell to him by the death of
a relation. Upon coming to this un-
expected good fortune, he ran into all
the extravagancies imaginable; was fre-
quently in drunken difputes, broke
drawers heads, talked and swore loud,
was namannerly to thofe above him,
and infolent to thofe below him. I
could not but remark, that it was the
fame bafenefs of fpirit which worked in
his behaviour in both fortunes: the
fame little mind was infolent in riches,
and fhameless in poverty. This acci-
dent made me mufe upon the circum-
ftance of being in debt in general, and
folve in my mind what tempers were
moft apt to fall into this error of life,
as well as the misfortune it must needs
be to languifh 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 bufinefs lies within
a very narrow compafs, which is only
to give an honeft man, who takes care
of my eftate, proper vouchers for his
quarterly payments to me, and obferve
what linen my laundrefs brings and
takes away with her once a week: my
Reward brings his receipt ready for my

When I walk the street, and obferve
the hurry about me in this town,
Where with like hafte, through diff'rent ways
they run;

Some to undo, and fome to be undone.
I fay, when I behold this vast 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 won-
der 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 pay-
ment, 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 defamation; and can feize his perfon without being guilty of an affault. Yet fuch is the loose and abandoned turn of fome men's minds, that they can live under thefe constant apprehenfions, and ftill 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

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by fome unadvised behaviour in any
great point of their life, or mortgaging
a man's honesty as a fecurity for that of
another, and the like; but thefe 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 de-
pends 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 fpeaking,
in debt; and many families have put it
into a kind of method of being fo from
generation to generation. The father
mortgages 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 eftate, and leave the
fame incumbrance upon his firft-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 fcorns to have an cftate in part-
nerfhip, that is to fay, liable to the de-
mand 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 bufinefs, and the iniquity of mankind at present: no one had any colour for the leaft complaint This is against his dealings with him. certainly as uncommon, and in it's pro

portion as laudable in a citizen, as it is
in a general never to have fuffered a dif-
advantage in fight. How different from
this gentleman is Jack Truepenny, who
has been an old acquaintance of Sir
Andrew and myfelf 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 capa-
city, are at any man's fervice that comes
first. When he was at school, he was
whipped thrice a week for faults he
took upon him to excufe in others; fince
he came into the bufinefs of the world,
he has been arrested 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 fuf-
fered in the vice of the town, all the
phyfic his friend took was conveyed to
him by Jack, and infcribed- A bolus

6

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 his life been a facrifice to o.hers, 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 deferved gentler ufage, after lying a whole night in cuftody at his fuit.

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N° LXXXIII. TUESDAY, JUNE 5.

ANIMUM PICTURA PASCIT INANI.

VIRG. N. I. v.
DRYDEN.

468.

AND WITH AN EMPTY PICTURE FEEDS HIS MIND.

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vifit any thing curious that may be feert under covert. My principal entertainments of this nature are pictures, infomuch that when I have found the wea

ther

ther 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 louring countenance, I withdraw myfelf from these uncomfortable fcenes into the vifionary worlds of art; where I meet with fhining landskips, 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 those dark disconfolate feafons.

I was fome weeks ago in a course of thefe 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 sketch and outlines of a vifion, than as a finished piece.

I dreamed that I was admitted into a long fpacious 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 greatest 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 discover 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 artifts that stood before me, and accordingly applied myfelf to the fide of the living. The first I obferved 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 toujours gai appeared even in his judges, bifhops, and privy-counfellors: in a word, all his men were Petits Maitres, and all his women Coquets. 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 dress was in a flutter, and endeavoured to diftinguish itself above the rest.

On the left-hand of Vanity ftood 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 Fantafque, dreffed like a Venetian fcaramouch. 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 most elaborate of his pieces was at best but a terrifying dream; and one could fay nothing more of his finest figures, than that they were agreeable 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. made fo much hafte to dispatch his bufinefs, that he neither gave himself time to clean his pencils, nor mix his colours. The name of this expeditious workman was Avarice.

He

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 fhip, 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 themfelves 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 first fight I could fcarce forbear crying out-Fire.

His

The five foregoing artifts were the moft 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 of his own. pencil aggravated every feature that was before overcharged, 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.

Having taken a curfory view of one

fide of the gallery, I turned myfelf to that which was filled by the works of thofe great mafters that were dead: when immediately I fancied myself tanding before a multitude of fpectators, and thousands of eyes looking upon me at once; for all before me appeared to like men and women, that I almoft for got they were pictures. Raphael's figures flood 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 short, there was not a great mafter among the Idead who had not contributed to the embellishment of this fide of the gallery. The perfons that owed their being to thefe feveral matters, appeared all of them to be real and alive, and differed among one another only in the variety of their fhapes, complexions, and cloaths; fo that they looked like different nations of the fame fpecies.

Obferving an old man, who was the fame perfon I before mentioned, as the only artift that was at work on this fide

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of the gallery, creeping up and down from one picture to another, and retouching all the fine pieces that flood before me, I could not but be very attentive to all his motions. I found his pencil was fo very light, that it worked imperceptibly, and after a thousand touches, fearce produced any vilible effect in the picture on which he was employed. However, as he buried himfelf inceffantly, and repeated touch after touch without reft or intermiffion, he wore off infenfibly every little dif agreeable 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 mafter'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.

N° LXXXIV. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6.

QUIS TALIA FANDO

MYRMIDONUM, DOLOPUMVE, AUT DURI MILES ULYSSEI, TEMPERET A LACHRYMIS?

VIRG. N. II. v. 6.

WHO CAN SUCH WOES RELATE, WITHOUT A TEAR,
AS STERN ULYSSES MUST HAVE WEPT TO HEAR?

OOKING over the old manu

fcript wherein the private actions of Pharamond are fet 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 converfations, 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

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• of business and fatigue of ceremony, 'made a fignal 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 reft of the company. Upon fuch notice, unobferved 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 ufed to admit many whofe mean appearance in the eyes of the ordinary waiters and door-keepers made them to be repulfed 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 6 him,

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