outshine them in all other accomplishments to him by the death of a relation. Upon comproper to the sex, and to distinguish themselves ing to this unexpected good fortune, he ran as tender mothers, and faithful wives, rather into all the extravagancies imaginable; was than as furious partisans. Female virtues are frequently in drunken fits, broke drawers' of a domestic turn. The family is the proper heads, talked and swore loud, was unmannerprovince for private women to shine in. If ly to those above him, and insolent to those bethey must be showing their zeal for the public, low him. I could not but remark, that it was let it not be against those who are perhaps of the same baseness of spirit which worked in the same family, or at least of the same reli- his behaviour in both fortunes: the same little gion or nation, but against those who are the mind was insolent in riches, and shameless in open professed, undoubted enemies of their poverty. This accident made me muse upon faith, liberty, and country. When the Romans the circumstance of being in debt in general, were pressed with a foreign enemy, the ladies and solve in my mind what tempers were most voluntarily contributed all their rings and jew- apt to fall into this error of life, as well as the els to assist the government under a public exi- misfortune it must needs be to languish under gence, which appeared so laudable an action in such pressure. As for myself, my natural the eyes of their countrymen, that from thence-aversion to that sort of conversation which forth it was permitted by a law to pronounce makes a figure with the generality of mankind, public orations at the funeral of a woman in exempts me from any temptations to expense; praise of the deceased person, which till that and all my business lies within a very narrow time was peculiar to men. Would our English compass, which is only to give an honest man ladies, instead of sticking on a patch against who takes care of my estate, proper vouchers those of their own country, show themselves for his quarterly payments to me, and observe so truly public-spirited as to sacrifice every what linen my laundress brings and takes one her necklace against the common enemy, away with her once a week. My steward what decrees ought not to be made in favour brings his receipt ready for my signing; and I of them. have a pretty implement with the respective Since I am recollecting upon this subject names of shirts, cravats, handkerchiefs and such passages as occur to my memory out stockings, with proper numbers, to know how of ancient authors, I cannot omit a sentence to reckon with my laundress. This being alin the celebrated funeral oration of Pericles, most all the business I have in the world for the which he made in honour of those brave Athe-care of my own affairs, I am at full leisure to nians that were slain in a fight with the Lacede- observe upon what others do, with relation to monians.* After having addressed himself to their equipage and economy. the several ranks and orders of his countrymen, and shown them how they should behave them-ry about me in this town, selves in the public cause, he turns to the female part of his audience: And as for you,' says he, 'I shall advise you in very few words. Aspire only to those virtues that are peculiar I say, when I behold this vast variety of persons to your sex; follow your natural modesty, and humours, with the pains they both take for and think it your greatest commendation not to be talked of one way or other. No. 82.] Monday, June 4, 1711. Caput dominâ venale sub hastâ. C. Juv. Sat. iii. 33. His fortunes ruin'd, and himself a slave. When I walk the street and observe the hur 'Where, with like haste, thro' several ways they run ; Some to undo, and some to be undone ;** the accomplishment of the ends mentioned in the above verses of Denham, I cannot much wonder at the endeavour 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 de Imand comes to, in his debtor's honour, liberty, and fortune. One would think he did not know PASSING under Ludgate the other day, heard a voice bawling for charity, which thought I had somewhere heard before. Com- that his creditor can say the worst thing imaginable of him, to wit, That he is unjust,' ing near to the grate, the prisoner called me without defamation; and can seize his person, by my name, and desired I would throw something into the box: I was out of countenance without being guilty of an assault. Yet such for him, and did as he bid me, by putting in is the loose and abandoned turn of some men's half a crown. I went away, reflecting upon minds, that they can live under these constant the strange constitution of some men, and apprehensions, and still go on to increase the how meanly they behave themselves in all cause of them. Can there be a more low and sorts of conditions. The person who begged servile condition, than to be ashamed or afraid of me is now, as I take it, fifty: I was well to see any on man breathing? Yet he that is acquainted with him till about the age of twenty-five; at which time a good estate fell much in debt, is that condition with relation to twenty different people. There are indeed circumstances wherein men of honest natures may become liable to debts, by some unadvised behaviour in any great point of their life, or mortgaging a man's honesty as a security for * Cooper's Hill, v. 31. that of another, and the like: but these instan- | 'Sir, your ingratitude for the many kindces are so particular and circumstantiated, nesses I have done you, shall not make me unthat they cannot come within general consi-thankful for the good you have done me, in letderations. For one such case as one of these, ting me see there is such a man as you in the there are ten, where a man, to keep up a farce world. I am obliged to you for the diffidence of retinue and grandeur within his own house, I shall have all the rest of my life: I shall shall shrink at the expectation of surly demands hereafter trust no man so far as to be in his at his doors. The debtor is the creditor's cri- debt. minal, and all the officers of power and state, whom we behold make so great a figure, are -Animum picturâ pascit inani. R. Virg. Æn. i. 468. no other than so many persons in authority to No. 83.] Tuesday, June 5, 1711. And with the shadowy picture feeds his mind. -WHEN the weather hinders me from taking Our gentry are, generally speaking, in debt: and many families have put it into a kind of me- my diversions without doors, I frequently thod of being so from generation to generation. make a little party with two or three select The father mortgages when his son is very friends, to visit any thing curious that may be young: and the boy is to marry, as soon as he seen under covert. My principal entertainis at age, to redeem it and find portions for his ments of this nature are pictures, insomuch sisters. This, forsooth, is no great inconveni- that when I have found the weather set in to be ence to him; for he may wench, keep a public very bad, I have taken a whole day's journey table, or feed dogs, like a worthy English gen- to see a gallery that is furnished by the hands tleman, till he has out-run half his estate, and of great masters. By this means, when the leave the same incumbrance upon his first-born, heavens are filled with clouds, when the earth and so on, till one man of more vigour than swims in rain, and all nature wears a lowering countenance, I withdraw myself from these ordinary goes quite through the estate, or some man of sense comes into it, and scorns to have uncomfortable scenes into the visionary worlds an estate in partnership, that is to say, liable of art; where I meet with shining landscapes, to the demand or insult of any man living. gilded triumphs, beautiful faces, and all those There is my friend Sir Andrew, though for other objects that fill the mind with gay ideas, and disperse that gloominess which is apt to many years a great and general trader, was never the defendant in a law-suit, in all the hang upon it in those dark disconsolate seaperplexity of business, and the iniquity of sons. I was some weeks ago in a course of these mankind at present; no one had any colour for the least complaint against his dealings diversions; which had taken such an entire with him. This is certainly as uncommon, and possession of my imagination, that they formed in it a short morning's dream, which I shall in its proportion as laudable in a citizen, as it is in a general never to have suffered a dis- communicate to my reader, rather as the first advantage in fight. How different from this sketch and outlines of a vision, than as a fingentleman is Jack Truepenny, who has been ished piece. I dreamt that I was admitted into a long spaan old acquaintance of Sir Andrew and myself from boys, but could never learn our caution. cious gallery, which had one side covered with Jack has a whorish unresisting good-nature, pieces of all the famous painters who are now which makes him incapable of having a pro-living, and the other with the works of the greatperty in any thing. His fortune, his reputation, est masters that are dead. his time, and his capacity, are at any man's service that comes first. When he was at school, he was whipped thrice a week for faults he took upon him to excuse others; since he came into the business of the world, he has been arrested twice or thrice a year for debts he had I was resolved to examine the several artists nothing to do with, but as surety for others; and I remember when a friend of his had suf- that stood before me, and accordingly applied fered in the vice of the town, all the physic his myself to the side of the living. The first I friend took was conveyed to him by Jack, and observed at work in this part of the gallery was inscribed A bolus or an electuary for Mr. Vanity, with his hair tied behind him in a ribTruepenny,' Jack had a good estate left him and, and dressed like a Frenchman. which came to nothing; because he believed faces he drew were very remarkable for their all who pretended to demands pon it. This smiles and a certain smirking air which he beeasiness and credulity destroy all the other stowed indifferently on every age and degree merit he has; and he has all his life been a sa- of either sex. The toujours gai appeared even crifice to others, without ever receiving thanks, in his judges, bishops, and privy-counsellors. 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. On the side of the living, I saw several persons busy in drawing, colouring, and designOn the side of the dead painters, I could ing not discover more than one person at work, who was exceedingly slow in his motions, and wonderfully nice in his touches. All the In a word, all his men were petits maitres, and all his women coquettes. The drapery of his figures was extremely well suited to his faces, and was made up of all the glaring colours that could be mixt together; every part of the dress was in a flutter, and endeavoured embellishment of this side of the gallery. The to distinguish itself above the rest. persons that owed their being to these several On the left hand of Vanity stood a laborious masters, appeared all of them to be real and workman, who I found was his humble admirer, and copied after him. He was dressed like a German, and had a very hard name that sounded something like Stupidity. The third artist that I looked over was Fantasque, dressed like a Venetian scaramouch. He had an excellent hand at chimera, and dealt very much in distortions and grimaces. He would sometimes affright himself with the phantoms that flowed from his pencil. In short, the most elaborate of his pieces was at best but a terrifying dream; and one could say nothing more of his finest figures, than that they were agreeable monsters. alive, and differed among one another only in the variety of their shapes, 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 The fourth person I examined was very re- was employed. However, as he busied himmarkable for his hasty hand, which left his self incessantly, and repeated touch after pictures so unfinished, that the beauty in the touch without rest or intermission, he wore off picture (which was designed to continue as a insensibly every little disagreeable gloss that monument of it to posterity) faded sooner hung upon a figure. He also added such a than in the person after whom it was drawn. beautiful brown to the shades, and mellowness He made so much haste to despatch his busi- to the colours, that he made every picture apness, that he neither gave himself time to clean his pencils, nor mix his colours. The name of this expeditious workman was Ava rice. pear 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. Not far from this artist I saw another of a quite different nature, who was dressed in the habit of a Dutchman, and known by the name Whether it were because the thread of my of Industry. His figures were wonderfully dream was at an end I cannot tell, but upon laboured. If he drew the portraiture of a man, my taking a survey of this imaginary old man, he did not omit a single hair in his face; if my sleep left me. the figure of a ship, there was not a rope among the tackle that escaped him. He had likewise hung a great part of the wall with No. 84.] Wednesday, June 6, 1711. night-pieces, that seemed to show themselves by the candles which were lighted up in several parts of them; and were so inflamed by the sunshine which accidentally fell upon them, that at first sight I could scarce forbear crying out' Fire.' C. Quis talia fando Who can such woes relate without a tear, As stern Ulysses must have wept to hear? The five foregoing artists were the most conLOOKING over the old manuscript wherein siderable on this side the gallery; there were the private actions of Pharamond are set down indeed several others whom I had not time to by way of table-book, I found many things look into. One of them, however, I could not which gave me great delight; and as human forbear observing, who was very busy in re-life turns upon the same principles and pastouching the finest pieces, though he produced sions in all ages, I thought it very proper to no originals of his own. His pencil aggravat- take minutes of what passed in that age, for ed every feature that was before overcharged, the instruction of this. The antiquary who loaded every defect, and poisoned every colour lent me these papers, gave me a character of it touched. Though this workman did so much Eucrate the favourite of Pharamond, extracted mischief on the side of the living, he never from an author who lived in that court. turned his eye towards that of the dead. His name was Envy. The account he gives both of the prince and this his faithful friend, willnot be improper to in- ́ Having taken a cursory view of one side of sert here, because I may have occasion to menthe gallery, I turned myself to that which was tion many of their conversations, into which filled by the works of those great masters that these memorials of them may give light. were dead; when immediately I fancied myself 'Pharamond, when he had a mind to retire standing before a multitude of spectators, and for an hour or two from the hurry of business thousands of eyes looking upon me at once: and fatigue of ceremony, made a signal to for all before me appeared so like men and Eucrate, by putting his hand to his face, placwomen, that I almost forgot they were pictures. ing his arm negligently on a window, or some Raphael's figures stood in one row, Titian's in such action as appeared indifferent to all the another, Guido Rheni's in a third. One part rest of the company. Upon such notice, unof the wall was peopled by Hannibal Carrache, observed by others (for their entire intimacy another by Corregio, and another by Rubens. was always a secret) Eucrate repaired to his To be short, there was not a great master own apartment to receive the king. There was among the dead who had not contributed to the a secret access to this part of the court, at which Eucrate used to admit many whose come not, oh excellent prince, to implore your mean appearance in the eyes of the ordinary pardon; I come to relate my sorrow, a sorrow waiters and door-keepers, made them be re- too great for human life to support; from pulsed from other parts of the palace. Such henceforth shall all occurrences appear dreams, as these were let in here by order of Eu- or short intervals of amusement, for this one crate, and had audiences of Pharamond. This affliction which has seized my very being. entrance Pharamond called "The gate of the Pardon me, oh Pharamond, if my griefs give unhappy," and the tears of the afflicted who me leave, that I lay before you, in the anguish came before him, he would say, were bribes of a wounded mind, that you, good as you received by Eucrate; for Eucrate had the most are, are guilty of the generous blood spilt this compassionate spirit of all men living, except day by this unhappy hand. Oh that it had pehis generous master, who was always kindled rished before that instant!" Here the stranger at the least affliction which was communicated paused, and recollecting his mind, after some to him. In regard for the miserable, Eucrate little meditation, he went on in a calmer tone took particular care that the common forms of and gesture as follows. sure Pharamond is not. distress, and the idle pretenders to sorrow, "There is an authority due to distress, and about courts, who wanted only supplies to lux-as none of human race is above the reach of ury, should never obtain favour by his means: sorrow, none should be above the hearing the but the distresses which arise from the many voice of it; I am inexplicable occurrences that happen among Know then, that I have this morning unfortunmen, the unaccountable alienation of parents ately killed in a duel, the man whom of all men from their children, cruelty of husbands to living I most loved. I command myself too wives, poverty occasioned from shipwreck or much in your royal presence, to say. Pharafire, the falling out of friends, or such other mond gave me my friend! Pharamond has taterrible disasters, to which the life of man is ken him from me! I will not say, Shall the merexposed; in cases of this nature, Eucrate was ciful Pharamond destroy his own subjects? the patron; and enjoyed this part of the Will the father of his country murder his peoroyal favour so much without being envied, ple? But the merciful Pharamond does destroy that it was never inquired into, by whose his subjects, the father of his country does means what no one else cared for doing, was murder his people. Fortune is so much the brought about. pursuit of mankind, that all glory and honour 'One evening when Pharamond came into is in the power of prince, because he has the the apartment of Eucrate, he found him ex-distribution of their fortunes. It is therefore tremely dejected; upon which he asked (with the inadvertency, négligence, or guilt of princes a smile that was natural to him) "What, is to let any thing grow into custom which is there any one too miserable to be relieved by against their laws. A court can make fashion Pharamond, that Eucrate is melancholy?" "I and duty walk together; it can never without fear there is," answered the favourite: "A the guilt of a court, happen, that it shall not be person without, of a good air, well dressed, unfashionable to do what is unlawful. But, and though a man in the strength of his life, alas! in the dominions of Pharamond, by the seems to faint under some inconsolable calami- force of a tyrant custom, which is misnamed ty. All his features seem suffused with agony a point of honour, the duellist kills his friend of mind; but I can observe in him, that it is whom he loves; and the judge condemns the more inclined to break away in tears, than rage. duellist while he approves his behaviour. I asked him what he would have. He said he Shame is the greatest of all evils; what avail would speak to Pharamond. I desired his busi- laws, when death only attends the breach of ness. He could hardly say to me, "Eucrate, them, and shame obedience to them? As for carry me to the king, my story is not to be told me, oh Pharamond, were it possible to destwice; I fear I shall not be able to speak it at cribe the nameless kinds of compunctions and all." Pharamond commanded Eucrate to let tenderness I feel, when I reflect upon the little let him enter; he did so, and the gentleman accidents in our former familiarity, my mind approached the king with an air which spoke swells into sorrow which cannot be resisted him under the greatest concern in what man- enough to be silent in the presence of Pharaner to demean himself. The king, who had a mond. (With that he fell into a flood of tears, quick discerning, relieved him from the op- and wept aloud.) Why should not Pharamond pression he was under: and with the most hear the anguish he only can relieve others beautiful complacency said to him, "Sir, do from in time to come? Let him hear from me, not add to that load of sorrow I see in your what they feel who have given death by the countenance the awe of my presence. Think false mercy of his administration, and form to you are speaking to your friend. If the cir- himself the vengeance called for by those who cumstances of your distress will admit of it, have perished by his negligence." you shall find me so." To whom the stranger: but he is dead by my own hand; but, oh Pha No. 85.] Thursday, June 7, 1711. * Mr. Thornhill, the gentleman here alluded to, under the translated name of Spinamont, killed sir C. Deering of Kent, Bart. in a duel, May 9, 1711. Interdum speciosa locis, morataque recté R. Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 319. -When the sentiments and manners please, Francis. 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 unaffected, they are able to move the mind of the most Ir is the custom of the Mahometans, if they polite reader with inward meltings of humanity see any printed or written paper upon the and compassion. The incidents grow out of ground, to take it up and lay it aside carefully, the subject, and are such as are the most proas not knowing but it may contain some piece per to excite pity; for which reason the whole of their Alcoran. I must confess I have so narration has something in it very moving, notmuch of the Mussulman in me, that I cannot withstanding the author of it (whoever he was) forbear looking into every printed paper which has delivered it in such an abject phrase and comes in my way, under whatsoever despica-poorness of expression, that the quoting any ble circumstances it may appear; for as no part of it would look like a design of turning mortal author, in the ordinary fate and vicissi-it into ridicule. But though the language is tude of things, knows to what use his works mean, the thoughts, as I have before said, may some time or other be applied, a man from one end to the other, are natural, and may often meet with very celebrated names therefore cannot fail to please those who are in a paper of tobacco. I have lighted my pipe not judges of language, or those who, notmore than once with the writings of a prelate; withstanding they are judges of language, and know a friend of mine, who, for these se- have a true and unprejudiced taste of nature. veral years, has converted the essays of a man The condition, speech, and behaviour of the of quality into a kind of fringe for his candle-dying parents, with the age, innocence, and sticks.. I remember in particular, after having distress of the children, are set forth in such read over a poem of an eminent author on a tender circumstances, that it is impossible for victory, I met with several fragments of it up-a reader of common humanity not to be afon the next rejoicing day, which had been em- fected with them. As for the circumstance of ployed in squibs and crackers, and by that the robin-red-breast, it is indeed a little poetimeans celebrated its subject in a double capa-cal ornament; and to show the genius of the city. I once met with a page of Mr. Baxter author amidst all his simplicity, it is just the under a Christmas pie. Whether or no the same kind of fiction which one of the greatest pastry-cook had made use of it through chance of the Latin poets has made use of upon a paor waggery, for the defence of that superstiti-rallel occasion; I mean that passage in Hoous viande, I know not; but upon the perusal race, where he describes himself when he was of it, I conceived so good an idea of the au- a child, fallen asleep in a desert wood, and cothor's piety, that I bought the whole book. Ivered with leaves by the turtles that took pity have often profited by these accidental read-on him. Me fabulosa Vulture in Appulo, 'Me when a child, as tir'd with play In careless slumbers bound, ings, and have sometimes 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 surprised 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 abstruse literature. I might likewise mention a paper-kite, from which I have received great improvement; and a hat-case, which I would not exchange for I have heard that the late Lord Dorset, who all the beavers in Great Britain. This my in- had the greatest wit tempered with the greatest quisitive temper, or rather impertinent humour candour, and was one of the finest critics as of prying into all sorts of writing, with my ua-well as the best poets of his age, had a numertural aversion to loquacity, give me a good ous collection of old English ballads, and took deal of employment when I enter any house a particular pleasure in the reading of them. in the country; for I cannot for my heart leave I can affirm the same of Mr. Dryden, and a room, before I have thoroughly studied the know several of the most refined writers of walls of it, and examined the several printed our present age who are of the same humour. papers which are usually pasted upon them. I might likewise refer my reader to Moliere's The last piece that I met with upon this oeca-thoughts on this subject, as he has expressed sion gave me a most exquisite pleasure. My them in the character of the Misanthrope: reader will think I am not serious, when I ac-but those only who are endowed with a true quaint him that the piece I am going to speak greatness of soul and genius, can divest themof, was the old ballad of the Two Children in selves of the images of ridicule, and admire nathe Wood, which is one of the darling songs ture in her simplicity and nakedness. As for of the common people, and has been the de- the little conceited wits of the age, who can light of most Englishmen in some part of their age. This song is a plain simple copy of nature, destitute of the helps and ornaments of art. VOL. I. only show their judgment by finding fault, they cannot be supposed to admire these productions which have nothing to recommend them but the beauties of nature, when they do 15 |