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countries of Europe, owe the first raising of his fortune to a cosmetic wash.

ments to make up for the want of those which reason I shall recommend the folattractions which she saw in her sister.lowing extract out of a friend's letter to the Poor Daphne was seldom submitted to in a professed beauties, who are a people almost debate wherein she was concerned; her dis- as unsufferable as the professed wits. course had nothing to recommend it but the Monsieur St. Evremond has concluded good sense of it, and she was always under one of his essays with affirming, that the a necessity to have very well considered last sighs of a handsome woman are not so what she was to say before she uttered it; much for the loss of her life, as of her while Lætitia was listened to with partiality, beauty. Perhaps this raillery is pursued and approbation sat in the countenances of too far, yet it is turned upon a very obvious those she conversed with, before she com- remark, that woman's strongest passion is municated what she had to say. These for her own beauty, and that she values it causes have produced suitable effects, and as her favourite distinction. From hence it Lætitia is as insipid a companion as Daphne is that all arts, which pretend to improve is an agreeable one. Lætitia, confident of or preserve it, meet with so general a refavour, has studied no arts to please; Daph- ception among the sex. To say nothing of ne, despairing of any inclination towards many false helps and contraband wares of her person, has depended wholly on her beauty, which are daily vended in this great merit. Lætitia has always something in her mart, there is not a maiden gentlewoman air that is sullen, grave, and disconsolate. of a good family, in any county of South Daphne has a countenance that appears Britain, who has not heard of the virtues of cheerful, open, and unconcerned. A young May-dew, or is unfurnished with some regentleman saw Letitia this winter at a ceipt or other in favour of her complexion; play, and became her captive. His fortune and I have known a physician of learning was such, that he wanted very little intro- and sense, after eight years study in the duction to speak his sentiments to her fa-university, and a course of travels into most ther. The lover was admitted with the utmost freedom into the family, where a constrained behaviour, severe looks, and This has given me occasion to consider distant civilities, were the highest favours how so universal a disposition in womanhe could obtain of Lætitia; while Daphne kind, which springs from a laudable moused him with the good humour, familiarity, tive, the desire of pleasing, and proceeds and innocence of a sister: insomuch that he upon an opinion, not altogether groundless, would often say to her, 'Dear Daphne, that nature may be helped by art, may be wert thou but as handsome as Lætitia."turned to their advantage. And, methinks, She received such language with that in- it would be an acceptable service to take genuous and pleasing mirth, which is natu- them out of the hands of quacks and preral to a woman without design. He still tenders, and to prevent their imposing upon sighed in vain for Lætitia, but found cer-themselves, by discovering to them the tain relief in the agreeable conversation of true secret and art of improving beauty, Daphne. At length, heartily tired with In order to do this, before I touch upon the haughty impertinence of Lætitia, and it directly, it will be necessary to lay down charmed with the repeated instances of a few preliminary maxims, viz. good-humour he had observed in Daphne, he one day told the latter, that he had something to say to her he hoped she would be pleased with- Faith, Daphne,' continued he, I am in love with thee, and despise thy sister sincerely.' The manner of his declaring himself, gave his mistress occasion for a very hearty laughter. Nay,' says he, I knew you would laugh at me, but I will ask your father.' He did so; the father received his intelligence with no less joy than surprise, and was very glad he had now no care left but for his beauty, From these few principles, thus laid which he thought he could carry to market down, it will be easy to prove, that the true at his leisure. I do not know any thing that art of assisting beauty consists in embellishhas pleased me so much a great while, as ing the whole person by the proper ornathis conquest of my friend Daphne's. All ments of virtuous and commendable qualiher acquaintance congratulate her upon her ties. By this help alone it is, that those chance-medley, and laugh at that premedi- who are the favourite work of nature, or, tating murderer her sister. As it is an as Mr. Dryden expresses it, the porcelain argument of a light mind, to think the clay of human kind, become animated, and worse of ourselves for the imperfections of are in a capacity of exerting their charms; our persons, it is equally below us to value and those who seem to have been neglectourselves upon the advantages of them.ed by her, like models wrought in haste, The female world seem to be almost incor- are capable in a great measure of finishing rigibly gone astray in this particular; for what she has left imperfect.

"That no woman can be handsome by the force of features alone, any more than she can be witty only by the help of speech.

'That pride destroys all symmetry and grace, and affectation is a more terrible enemy to fine faces than the small-pox.

That no woman is capable of being beautiful, who is not incapable of being false.

'And, That what would be odious in a friend, is deformity in a mistress.

It is, methinks, a low and degrading | divisions, not only of this great city, but of idea of that sex, which was created to re- the whole kingdom. My readers too have fine the joys, and soften the cares of hu- the satisfaction to find that there is no rank manity, by the most agreeable participa- or degrees among them who have not their tion, to consider them merely as objects of representative in this club, and that there sight. This is abridging them of their na- is always somebody present who will take tural extent of power, to put them upon a care of their respective interests, that nolevel with their pictures at Kneller's. How thing may be written or published to the much nobler is the contemplation of beau- prejudice or infringement of their just ty, heightened by virtue, and commanding rights and privileges. our esteem and love, whilst it draws our observation! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, when compared with the real loveliness of Sophronia's innocence, piety, good-humour, and truth; virtues which add a new softness to her sex, and even beautify her beauty! That agreeableness which must otherwise have appeared no longer in the modest virgin, is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and the faithful wife. Cofours artfully spread upon canvass may entertain the eye, but not affect the heart; and she who takes no care to add to the natural graces of her person any excelling qualities, may be allowed still to amuse, as a picture, but not to triumph as a beauty.

When Adam is introduced by Milton, describing Eve in Paradise, and relating to the angel the impressions he felt upon seeing her at her first creation, he does not represent her like a Grecian Venus, by her shape or features, but by the lustre of her mind which shone in them, and gave them their power of charming:

Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, In all her gestures dignity and love!" "Without this irradiating power, the proudest fair-one ought to know, whatever her glass may tell her to the contrary, that her most perfect features are uninformed and dead.

I cannot better close this moral, than by a short epitaph written by Ben Jonson with a spirit which nothing could inspire but such an object as I have been describing.

"Underneath this stone doth lie As much virtue as could die; Which when alive did vigour give To as much beauty as could live." 'I am, Sir, your most humble servant, R.

'R. B.'

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I last night sat very late in company with this select body of friends, who entertained me with several remarks which they and others had made upon these my speculations, as also with the various success which they had met with among their several ranks and degrees of readers. Will Honeycomb told me, in the softest manner he could that there were some ladies (but for your comfort, says Will, they are not those of the most wit) that were offended at the liberties I had taken with the opera and the puppet-show; that some of them were likewise very much surprised, that I should think such serious points as the dress and equipage of persons of quality, proper subjects for raillery.

He was going on when Sir Andrew Freeport took him up short, and told him that the papers he hinted at, had done great good in the city, and that all their wives and daughters were the better for them; and further added, that the whole city thought themselves very much obliged to me for declaring my generous intentions to scourge vice and folly as they appear in a multitude, without condescending to be a publisher of particular intrigues and cuckoldoms. In short,' says Sir Andrew, 'if you avoid that foolish beaten road of falling upon aldermen and citizens, and employ your pen upon the vanity and luxury of courts, your paper must needs be of general use.

Upon this my friend the Templar told Sir Andrew, that he wondered to hear a man of his sense talk after that manner; that the city had always been the province for satire, and that the wits of King Charles's time jested upon nothing else during his whole reign. He then showed, by the example of Horace, Juvenal, Boileau, and the best writers of every age, that the follies of the stage and court had never been accounted too sacred for ridicule, how great soever the persons might be that patronized them. But after all,' says he, I think your raillery has made too great an excursion, in attacking several persons of the inns of court; and I do not believe you can show me any precedent for your behaviour in that particular.'

My good friend, Sir Roger de Coverly, who had said nothing all this while, began his speech with a Pish! and told us, that he wondered to see so many men of sense, so very serious upon fooleries. 'Let our good friend,' says he, 'attack every one that deserves it; I would only advise you,

Mr. Spectator,' applying himself to me, This debate, which was held for the good 'to take care how you meddle with coun-of mankind, put me in mind of that which try squires. They are the ornaments of the English nation; men of good heads and sound bodies! and, let me tell you, some of them take it ill of you, that you mention fox-hunters with so little respect.'

Captain Sentry spoke very sparingly on this occasion. What he said was only to commend my prudence in not touching upon the army, and advised me to continue to act discreetly in that point.

But by this time I found every subject of my speculations was taken away from me, by one or other of the club: and began to think myself in the condition of the good man that had one wife who took a dislike to his grey hairs, and another to his black, till by their picking out what each of them had an aversion to, they left his head altogether bald and naked.

the Roman triumvirate were formerly engaged in for their destruction. Every man at first stood hard for his friend, till they found that by this means they should spoil their proscription; and at length, making a sacrifice of all their acquaintance and relations, furnished out a very decent execution.

Having thus taken my resolution to march on boldly in the cause of virtue and good sense, and to annoy their adversaries in whatever degree or rank of men they may be found, I shall be deaf for the future to all the remonstrances that shall be made to me on this account. If Punch grows extravagant, I shall reprimand him very freely: if the stage becomes a nursery of folly and impertinence, I shall not be afraid to animadvert upon it. In short, if I meet While I was thus musing with myself, with any thing in city, court or country, my worthy friend the clergyman, who, that shocks modesty or good manners, I very luckily for me, was at the club that shall use my utmost endeavours to make night, undertook my cause. He told us, an example of it. I must, however, entreat that he wondered any order of persons every particular person who does me the should think themselves too considerable to honour to be a reader of this paper, never to be advised. That it was not quality, but think himself, or any one of his friends or innocence, which exempted men from re-enemies, aimed at in what is said; for I proof. That vice and folly ought to be attacked wherever they could be met with, and especially when they were placed in high and conspicuous stations of life. He further added, that my paper would only serve to aggravate the pains of poverty, if it chiefly exposed those who are already depressed, and in some measure turned into No. 35.] Tuesday, April 10, 1711. ridicule, by the meanness of their conditions and circumstances. He afterwards proceeded to take notice of the great use this paper might be of to the public, by reprehending those vices which are too trivial for the chastisement of the law, and too fantas-in which authors are more apt to miscarry tical for the cognizance of the pulpit. He then advised me to prosecute my undertaking with cheerfulness, and assured me, that whoever might be displeased with me, I should be approved by all those whose praises do honour to the persons on whom they are bestowed.

The whole club pay a particular deference to the discourse of this gentleman, and are drawn into what he says, as much by the candid ingenuous manner with which he delivers himself, as by the strength of argument and force of reason which he makes use of. Will Honeycomb immediately agreed that what he had said was right; and that, for his part, he would not insist upon the quarter which he had demanded for the ladies. Sir Andrew gave up the city with the same frankness. The Templar would not stand out, and was followed by Sir Roger and the Captain; who all agreed that I should be at liberty to carry the war into what quarter I pleased; provided I continued to combat with criminals in a body, and to assault the vice without hurting the person.

promise him, never to draw a faulty character which does not fit at least a thousand people, or to publish a single paper, that is not written in the spirit of benevolence, and with a love of mankind.



Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est.
Nothing so foolish as the laugh of fools.
AMONG all kinds of writing, there is none

than in works of humour, as there is none
in which they are more ambitious to excel.
It is not an imagination that teems with mon-
sters, a head that is filled with extravagant
conceptions, which is capable of furnishing
the world with diversions of this nature;
and yet, if we look into the productions of
several writers, who set up for men of
humour, what wild irregular fancies, what
unnatural distortions of thought, do we meet
with? If they speak nonsense, they believe
they are talking humour, and when they
have drawn together a scheme of absurd
inconsistent ideas, they are not able to read
it over to themselves without laughing.
These poor gentlemen endeavour to gain
themselves the reputation of wits and hu-
mourists, by such monstrous conceits as al-
most qualify them for Bedlam; not consi-
dering that humour should always lie under
the check of reason, and that it requires the
direction of the nicest judgment, by so much
the more as it indulges itself in the most
boundless freedoms. There is a kind of
nature that is to be observed in this sort of
compositions, as well as in all other; and a

certain regularity of thought which must discover the writer to be a man of sense, at the same time that he appears altogether given up to caprice. For my part, when I read the delirious mirth of an unskilful author, I cannot be so barbarous as to divert myself with it, but am rather apt to pity the man, than to laugh at any thing he writes.

The deceased Mr. Shadwell, who had himself a great deal of the talent which I am treating of, represents an empty rake, in one of his plays, as very much surprised to hear one say, that breaking of windows was not humour; and I question not but several English readers will be as much startled to hear me affirm, that many of those raving incoherent pieces, which are often spread among us under odd chimerical titles, are rather the offsprings of a distempered brain than works of humour.

It is indeed much easier to describe what is not humour, than what is; and very difficult to define it otherwise than as Cowley has done wit, by negatives. Were I to give my own notions of it, I would deliver them after Plato's manner, in a kind of allegory, and by supposing Humour to be a person, deduce to him all his qualifications, according to the following genealogy. Truth was the founder of the family, and the father of Good Sense. Good Sense was the father of Wit, who married a lady of collateral line called Mirth, by whom he had issue Humour. Humour therefore being the youngest of this illustrious family, and descended from parents of such different dispositions, is very various and unequal in his temper; sometimes you see him putting on grave looks and a solemn habit, sometimes airy in his behaviour and fantastic in his dress; insomuch that at different times he appears as serious as a judge, and as jocular as a Merry-Andrew. But as he has a great deal of the mother in his constitution, whatever mood he is in, he never fails to make his company laugh.

But since there is an impostor abroad, who takes upon him the name of this young gentleman, and would willingly pass for him in the world, to the end that wellmeaning persons may not be imposed upon by cheats, I would desire my readers, when they meet with this pretender, to look into his parentage, and to examine him strictly, whether or no he be remotely allied to Truth, and lineally descended from Good Sense; if not, they may conclude him a counterfeit. They may likewise distinguish him by a loud and excessive laughter, in which he seldom gets his company to join with him. For as True Humour generally looks serious, while every body laughs about him; False Humour is always laughing, whilst every body about him looks serious. I shall only add, if he has not in him a mixture of both parents, that is, if he would pass for the offspring of Wit without Mirth, or Mirth without Wit, you may

conclude him to be altogether spurious and a cheat.

The impostor of whom I am speaking, descends originally from Falsehood, who was the mother of Nonsense, who was brought to bed of a son called Frenzy, who married one of the daughters of Folly, commonly known by the name of Laughter, on whom he begot that monstrous infant of which I have been speaking. I shall set down at length the genealogical table of False Humour, and, at the same time, place under it the genealogy of True Humour, that the reader may at one view behold their different pedigrees and relations: . Falsehood. Nonsense. Frenzy.Laughter. False Humour.


Good Sense. Wit. Mirth. Humour.

I might extend the allegory, by mentioning several of the children of False Humour, who are more in number than the sands of the sea, and might in particular enumerate the many sons and daughters which he has begot in this island. But as this would be a very invidious task, I shall only observe in general, that False Humour differs from the True, as a monkey does from a man.

First of all, He is exceedingly given to little apish tricks and buffooneries.

Secondly, He so much delights in mimickry, that it is all one to him whether he exposes by it vice and folly, luxury and avarice; or on the contrary, virtue and wisdom, pain and poverty.

Thirdly, He is wonderfully unlucky, insomuch that he will bite the hand that feeds him, and endeavour to ridicule both friends and foes indifferently. For having but small talents, he must be merry where he can, not where he should.

Fourthly, Being entirely void of reason, he pursues no point, either of morality or instruction, but is ludicrous only for the sake of being so.

Fifthly, Being incapable of any thing but mock representations, his ridicule is always personal, and aimed at the vicious man, or the writer; not at the vice, or the writing.

I have here only pointed at the whole species of false humourists; but as one of my principal designs in this paper is to beat down that malignant spirit, which discovers itself in the writings of the present age, I shall not scruple, for the future, to single out any of the small wits, that infest the world with such compositions as are ill-natured, immoral, and absurd. This is the only exception which I shall make to the general rule I have prescribed myself, of attacking multitudes, since every honest man ought to look upon himself as in a natural state of war with the libeller

and lampener, and to annoy them when opposition to the oracle of Delphos, and ever they fall in his way. This is but re-doubts not but he shall turn the fortune of taliating upon them, and treating them as they treat others. C.

No. 36.] Wednesday, April 11, 1711.

-Immania monstra

Virg. Æn. iii. 583.
Things the most out of nature we endure.

I SHALL not put myself to any farther pains for this day's entertainment, than barely to publish the letters and titles of petitions from the playhouse, with the minutes I have made upon the latter for my conduct in relation to them.

Porus, when he personates him. I am desired by the company to inform you, that they submit to your censures, and shall have you in greater veneration than Hercules was of old, if you can drive monsters from the theatre; and think your merit will be as much greater than his, as to convince is more than to conquer. I am, sir, T. D.' your most obedient servant,

fit to use fire-arms (as other authors have done,) in the time of Alexander, I may be a cannon against Porus, or else provide for me in the burning of Persepolis, or what other method you shall think fit.

'SALMONEUS, of Covent Garden.'

'SIR,-When I acquaint you with the great and unexpected vicissitudes of my fortune, I doubt not but I shall obtain your pity and favour. I have for many years past been Thunderer to the playhouse; and have not only made as much noise out of Drury-lane, April the 9th. Upon reading the project which is set the theatre that ever bore that character, the clouds as any predecessor of mine in forth in one of your late papers, of making but also have descended and spoke on the an alliance between all the bulls, bears, stage as the bold Thunderer in The Reelephants, and lions, which are separately hearsal. When they got me down thus exposed to public view in the cities of Lon- low, they thought fit to degrade me further, don and Westminster; together with the and make me a ghost. I was contented other wonders, shows, and monsters, whereof with this for these two last winters; but they you made respective mention in the said carry their tyranny still further, and not speculation; we, the chief actors of this satisfied that I am banished from above playhouse, met and sat upon the said de- ground, they have given me to understand sign. It is with great delight that we ex- that I am wholly to depart their dominions, pect the execution of this work; and in and taken from me even my subterraorder to contribute to it we have given neous employment. Now, sir, what I dewarning to all our ghosts to get their live-sire of you is, that if your undertaker thinks lihoods where they can, and not to appear among us after daybreak of the 16th instant. We are resolved to take this cp portunity to part with every thing which does not contribute to the representation of human life; and shall make a free gift of all animated utensils to your projector. The hangings you formerly mentioned are run away; as are likewise a set of chairs, each of which was met upon two legs going through the Rose tavern at two this morning. We hope, sir, you will give proper notice to the town that we are endeavouring at these regulations; and that we intend for the future to show no monsters, but men who are converted into such by their own industry and affectation. If you will please to be at the house to-night, you will see me do my endeavour to show some unnatural appearances which are in vogue among the polite and well-bred. I am to represent, in the character of a fine lady A widow gentlewoman, well born both by father and dancing, all the distortions which are fre- mother's side, being the daughter of Thomas Prater, once an eminent practitioner in the law, and of Letitia quently taken for graces in mien and ges- Tattle, a family well known in all parts of this kingture. This, sir, is a specimen of the methods dom, having been reduced by misfortunes to wait on we shall take to expose the monsters which several great persons, and for some time to be a teacher come within the notice of a regular theatre: the public, that she hath lately taken a house near and we desire nothing more gross may be Bloomsbury-square, commodiously situated next the admitted by you Spectators for the future. fields, in a good air: where she teaches all sorts of birds We have cashiered three companies of and others, to imitate human voices in greater periceof the loquacious kind, as parrots, starlings, magpies, theatrical guards, and design our kings shall tion than ever was yet practised. They are not only for the future make love, and sit in coun-instructed to pronounce words distinctly, and in a procil, without an army; and wait only your direction, whether you will have them reinforce king Porus, or join the troops of Macedon. Mr. Pinkethman resolves to consult his pantheon of heathen gods in

The petition of all the Devils in the playhouse in behalf of themselves and families, setting forth their expulsion from thence, with certificates of their good life and conversation, and praying relief.

The merits of this petition referred to Mr. Chr. Rich, who made them devils.

The petition of the Grave-digger in Hamlet, to command the pioneers in the expedition of Alexander.Granted.

The petition of William Bullock, to be Hephestion to Pinkethman the Great.Granted.


at a boarding school of young ladies, giveth notice to

great purity and volubility of tongue, together with all the fashionable phrases and compliments now in use, either at tea-tables or visiting-days. Those that have airs, and if required, to speak either Italian or French, good voices may be taught to sing the newest operapaying something extraordinary above the common

per tone and accent, but to speak the language with

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