[No. 63. planting themselves in a line on the left hand territories of False Wit with an unspeakable of each column. The officers were all of them consternation, insomuch that the goddess of at least six feet high, and made three rows of those regions appeared in person upon her very proper men; but the common soldiers, frontiers, with the several inferior deities, and who filled up the spaces between the officers, the different bodies of forces which I had before were such dwarfs, cripples, and scarecrows, seen in the temple, who were now drawn up in that one could hardly look upon them with- array, and prepared to give their foes a warm out laughing. There were behind the acros-reception. As the march of the enemy was vetics two or three files of chronograms, which ry slow, it gave time to the several inhabitants differed only from the former, as their officers who bordered upon the regions of Falsehood were equipped (like the figure of Time) with to draw their forces into a body, with a design an hour-glass in one hand, and a scythe in to stand upon their guard as neuters, and attend the other; and took their posts promiscuously the issue of the combat. among the private men whom they commanded, In the body of the temple, and before the very face of the deity, methought I saw the phantom of Tryphiodorus, the lipogrammatist, engaged in a ball with four-and-twenty persons, who pursued him by turns through all the intricacies and labyrinths of a country-dance, without being able to overtake him. I must here inform my reader, that the frontiers of the enchanted region, which I have before described, were inhabited by the species of Mixed Wit, who made a very odd appear. ance when they were mustered together in an army. There were men whose bodies were stuck full of darts, and women whose eyes were burning-glasses: men that had hearts of fire, and women that had breasts of snow. Observing several to be very busy at the would be endless to describe several monsters western end of the temple, I inquired into what of the like nature, that composed this great they were doing, and found there was in that army; which immediately fell asunder, and quarter the great magazine of rebusses. These divided itself into two parts, the one half were several things of the most different na-throwing themselves behind the banners of tures tied up in bundles, and thrown upon one Truth, and the other behind those of Falseanother in heaps like faggots. You might be hood, It hold an anchor, a night-rail, and a hobby-horse The goddess of Falsehood was of a gigantic bound up together. One of the workmen see-stature, and advanced some paces before the ing me very much surprised, told me, there front of her army: but as the dazzling light was an infinite deal of wit in several of those which flowed from Truth began to shine upon bundles, and that he would explain them to me her, she faded insensibly; insomuch that in a if I pleased: I thanked him for his civility, but little space, she looked rather like an huge told him I was in very great haste at that time. phantom than a real substance. At length, as As I was going out of the temple, I observed in the goddess of Truth approached still nearer to one corner of it a cluster of men and women her she fell away entirely, and vanished laughing very heartily, and diverting them- amidst the brightness of her presence; so that selves at a game of crambo, I heard several there did not remain the least trace or impres double rhymes as I passed by them, which rais- sion of her figure in the place where she had ed a great deal of mirth.. been seen, Not far from these was another set of merry As at the rising of the sun the constellations people engaged at a diversion, in which the grow thin, and the stars go out one after anowhole jest was to mistake one person for an-ther, till the whole hemisphere is extinguish other, To give occasion for these ludicrous ed; such was the vanishing of the goddess: mistakes, they were divided into pairs, every and not only of the goddess herself, but of the pair being covered from head to foot with the whole army that attended her, which sympa same kind of dress, though perhaps there was thized with their leader, and shrunk into nonot the least resemblance in their faces. By thing, in proportion as the goddess disappearthis means an old man was sometimes mistaken ed. At the same time the whole temple sunk, for a boy, a woman for a man, and a black-a-the fish betook themselves to the streams, and moor far an European, which very often pro- the wild beasts to the woods, the fountains duced great peals of laughter. These I guessed recovered their murmurs, the birds their to be a party of puns. But being very desirous voices, the trees their leaves, the flowers to get out of this world of magic, which had almost turned my brain, I left the temple, and crossed over the fields that lay about it with all the speed I could make. I was not gone far before I heard the sound of trumpets and alarms, which seemed to proclaim the march of an enemy; and, as I afterwards found, was in Upon the removal of that wild scene of wonreality what I apprehended it. There appear-ders, which had very much disturbed my imaed at a great distance a very shining light, and gination, I took a full survey of the persons of in the midst of it, a person of a most beautiful Wit and Truth; for indeed it was impossible aspect; her name was Truth. On her right to look upon the first, without seeing the other hand there marched a male deity, who bare at the same time. There was behind them a several quivers on his shoulders, and grasped strong compact body of figures. The genius several arrows in his hand. His name was Wit. of Heroic Poetry appeared with a sword in The approach of these two enemies filled all the her hand, and a laurel on her head. Tragedy their scents, and the whole face of nature its true and genuine appearance. Though I still continued asleep, I fancied myself as it were awakened out of a dream, when I saw this region of prodigies restored to woods and rivers, fields and meadows. was crowned with cypress, and covered with what degree of friendship any deceased monrobes dipped in blood. Satire had smiles in arch maintained with the court to which he beher look, and a dagger under her garment. longs. A good courtier's habit and behaviour Rhetoric was known by her thunderbolt; and is hieroglyphical on these occasions. He deals Comedy by her mask. After several other much in whispers, and you may see he dresses figures, Epigram marched up in the rear, who according to the best intelligence. had been posted there at the beginning of the expedition, that he might not revolt to the enemy, whom he was suspected to favour in his heart. I was very much awed and delighted with the appearance of the god of Wit; there was something so amiable, and yet so piercing in his looks, as inspired me at once with love and terror. As I was gazing on him, to my unspeakable joy he took a quiver of arrows from his shoulder, in order to make me a present of it; but as I was reaching out my hand to receive it of him, I knocked it against a chair, and by that means awaked. No. 64.] Monday, May 14, 1711. -Hic vivimus ambitiosâ Paupertate omnes C. Juv. Sat. ili. 183. The general affectation among men, of appearing greater than they are, makes the whole world run into the habit of the court. You see the lady, who the day before was as various as a rainbow, upon the time appointed for beginning to mourn, as dark as a cloud. This humour does not prevail only on those whose fortunes can support any change in their equipage, nor on those only whose income demand the wantonness of new appearances; but on such also who have just enough to clothe them. An old acquaintance of mine, of ninety pounds a year, who has naturally the vanity of being a man of fashion deep at his heart, is very much put to it to bear the mortality of princes. He made a new black suit upon the death of the King of Spain, he turned it for the King of Portugal, and he now keeps his chamber while it is scouring for the The face of wealth in poverty we wear. Emperor. He is a good economist in his extravagance, and makes only a fresh black butTHE most improper things we commit in ton on his iron-grey suit for any potenate of the conduct of our lives, we are led into by small territories; he indeed adds his crape the force of fashion. Instances might be given, hatband for a prince whose exploits he has in which a prevailing custom makes us act admired in the Gazette. But whatever comagainst the rules of nature, law, and common pliments may be made on these occasions, the sense; but at present I shall confine my con- true mourners are the mercers, silkmen, lacesideration to the effect it has upon men's minds, men, and milliners. A prince of a merciful by looking into our behaviour when it is the and royal disposition would reflect with great fashion to go into mourning. The custom of anxiety upon the prospect of his death, if he representing the grief we have for the loss of considered what numbers would be reduced to the dead by our habits, certainly had its rise misery by that accident only. He would think from the real sorrow of such as were too much it of moment enought to direct, that in the distressed to take the proper care they ought notification of his departure, the honour done of their dress. By degrees it prevailed, that to him might be restrained to those of the housesuch as had this inward oppression upon their hold of the prince to whom it should be signiminds, made an apology for not joining with fied. He would think a general mourning to the rest of the world in their ordinary diver be in a less degree the same ceremony which is sions by a dress suited to their condition. This practised in barbarous nations, of killing therefore was at first assumed by such only as their slaves to attend the obsequies of their were under real distress; to whom it was a re-kings. lief that they had nothing about them so light I had been wonderfully at a loss for many and gay as to be irksome to the gloom and me-months together, to guess at the character of lancholy of their inward reflections, or that a man who came now and then to our coffeemight misrepresent them to others. In process house. He ever ended a newspaper with this of time this laudable distinction of the sorrow-reflection, 'Well, I see all the foreign princes ful was lost, and mourning is now worn by are in good health,' If you asked, ' Pray, heirs and widows. You see nothing but mag-sir, what says the Postman from Vienna? He nificence and solemnity in the equipage of the answered. Make us thankful, the German relict, and an air of release from servitude in Princes are all well.'-' "What does he say from the pomp of a son who has lost a wealthy father. Barcelona;''He does not speak but that the This fashion of sorrow is now become a gener- country agrees very well with the new Queen.' ous part of the ceremonial between princes and After very much inquiry, I found this man of Sovereigns, who, in the language of all nations, universal loyalty was a wholesale dealer in are styled brothers to each other, and put on silks and ribands. His way is, it seems, if he the purple* upon the death of any potentate hires a weaver or workman, to have it inserted with whom they live in amity. Courtiers, and all in his articles, that all this shall be well and who wish themselves such, are immediately truly performed, provided no foreign potentate seized with grief from head to foot upon this shall depart this life within the time abovedisaster to their prince; so that one may mentioned.' It happens in all public mournknow by the very buckles of a gentleman-usherings that the many trades which depend upon our habits, are during that folly either pinched * Royal and princely mourners were usually clad in with present want, or terrified with the appa rent approach of it. All the atonement which purple. the re ren can make for wanton expenses (which is be employed upon Sir Fopling Flutter." The a sort of insulting the scarcity under which received character of this play is, that it is the others labour) is, that the superfluities of the pattern of genteel comedy. Dorimant and wealthy give supplies to the necessities of the Harriot are the characters of greatest consepoor; but instead of any other good arising quence, and if these are low and mean, from the affectation of being in courtly habits putation of the play is very unjust. of mourning, all order seems to be destroyed I will take for granted, that a fine gentleby it; and the true hononr which one court man should be honest in his actions, and redoes to another on that occasion, loses its force fined in his language. Instead of this, our and efficacy. When a foreign minister beholds hero in this piece is a direct knave in his dethe court of a nation (which flourishes in riches signs, and a clown in his language. Bellair is and plenty) lay aside upon the loss of his mas-his admirer and friend; in return for which, ter, all marks of splendour and magnificence, because he is forsooth a greater wit than his though the head of such a joyful people, he said friend, he thinks it reasonable to persuade will conceive a greater idea of the honour done him to marry a young lady, whose virtue, he to his master, than when he sees the generality thinks, will last no longer than till she is a of the people in the same habit. When one is wife, and then she cannot but fall to his share. afraid to ask the wife of a tradesman whom she as he is an irresistible fine gentleman. The has lost of her family; and after some prepa- falsehood to Mrs. Loveit, and the barbarity of ration endeavours to know whom she mourns triumphing over her anguish for losing him, is for; how ridiculous is it to hear her explain another instance of his honesty, as well as his herself, That we have lost one of the house good-nature. As to his fine language; he calls of Austria! Princes are elevated so highly the orange-woman, who, it seems, is inclined above the rest of mankind, that it is a pre- to grow fat, An overgrown jade, with a flassumptuous distinction to take a part in hon-ket of guts before her;' and salutes her with ours done to their memories, except we have a pretty phrase of 'How now, Double Tripe?' authority for it, by being related in a particu- Upon the mention of a country-gentlewoman, lar manner to the court which pays the venera- whom he knows nothing of (no one can imation to their friendship, and seems to express gine why) he will lay his life she is some on such an occasion the sense of the uncer-awkward ill-fashioned country-toad, who not tainty of human life in general, by assuming the having above four dozen of hairs on her head, habit of sorrow, though in the full possession has adorned her baldness with a large white of triumph and royalty. fruz, that she may look sparkishly in the fore-front of the king's box at an old play." Unnatural mixture of senseless common-place! No. 65.] Tuesday, May 15, 1711. R. As to the generosity of his temper, he tells his poor footman, 'If he did not wait better,' he would turn him away, in the insolent phrase I'll uncase you.' -Demetri, teque, Tigelli, Demetrius and Tigellius, know your place; Now for Mrs. Harriot. She laughs at obedience to an absent mother, whose tenderness Busy describes to be very exquisite, for that AFTER having at large explained what wit is, she is so pleased with finding Harriot again, and described the false appearances of it, all that she cannot chide her for being out of the that labour seems but an useless inquiry, with-way.' This witty daughter and fine lady has out some time be spent in considering the ap- so little respect for this good woman, that she plication of it. The seat of wit, when one ridicules her air in taking leave, and cries, ‘In speaks as a man of the town and the world, is what struggle is my poor mother yonder! See, the playhouse; I shall therefore fill this paper see, her head tottering, her eyes starting, and with reflections upon the use of it, in that her under-lip trembling.' But all this is atonplace. The application of wit in the theatre ed for, because 'she has more wit than is has as strong an effect upon the manners of our usual in her sex, and as much malice, though gentlemen, as the taste of it has upon the writ- she is as wild as you could wish her, and has ings of our authors. It may, perhaps, look a demureness in her looks that makes it so surlike a very presumptuous work, though not foreign from the duty of a Spectator, to tax the writings of such as have long had the general applause of a nation; but I shall always make reason, truth, and nature the measures of praise and dispraise; if those are for me, the generality of opinion is of no consequence against me; if they are against me, the general opinion cannot long support me. Without further preface, I am going to look into some of our most applauded plays, and see whether they deserve the figure they at present bear in the imaginations of men or not. In reflecting upon these works, I shall chiefly dwell upon that for which each respective play is most celebrated. The present paper shall prising.' Then to recommend her as a fit spouse for his hero, the poet makes her speak her sense of marriage very ingenuously: 'I think,' says she, 'I might be brought to endure him, and that is all a reasonable woman should expect in an husband.' It is methinks unnatural, that we are not made to understand, how she that was bred under a silly pious old mother, that would never trust her out of her sight, came to be so polite. It cannot be denied, but that the negligence * The Man of Mode, or Sir Fopling Flutter, a comedy, was that of Beau Hewit, son of Sir Thomas Hewit, of by Sir George Etheridge. The character of Sir Fopling Pishiobury, in Hertfordshire; of Dorimant, that of Wilmot earl of Rochester; and Bellair, that of the author. himself. SIR, To the Spectator. of every thing which engages the attention of the sober and valuable part of mankind, appears very well drawn in this piece. But it is 'I take the freedom of asking your advice denied, that it is necessary to the character of in behalf of a young country kinswoman of a fine gentleman, that he should in that man-mine who is lately come to town, and under my ner trample upon all order and decency. As care for her education. She is very pretty, for the character of Dorimant, it is more of a but you cannot imagine how uninformed a coxcomb than that of Fopling. He says of one creature it is. She comes to my hands just of his companions, that a good correspondence as nature left her, half finished, and without between them is their mutual interest. Speak- any acquired improvements. When I look on ing of that friend, he declares, their being her I often think of the Belle Sauvage menmuch together, makes the woman think the better of his understanding, and judge more favourably of my reputation. It makes him pass upon some for a man of very good sense, and me upon others for a very civil person. tioned in one of your papers. Dear Mr. Spectator, help me to make her comprehend the visible graces of speech, and the dumb eloquence of motion; for she is at present a perfect stranger to both. She knows no way to This whole celebrated piece is a perfect con- express herself but by her tongue, and that altradiction to good manners, good sense, and ways to signify her meaning. Her eyes serve common honesty; and as there is nothing in it her yet only to see with, and she is utterly a but what is built upon the ruin of virtue and foreigner to the language of looks and glances. innocence, according to the notion of merit In this I fancy you could help her better than in this comedy, I take the shoemaker to be in any body. I have bestowed two months in reality the fine gentleman of the play: for it teaching her to sigh when she is not concernseems he is an atheist, if we may depend upon ed, and to smile when she is not pleased, and his character, as given by the orange-woman, am ashamed to own she makes little or no imwho is herself far from being the lowestin the provement. Then she is no more able now to play. She says, of a fine man who is Dori-walk, than she was to go at a year old. By mant's companion, 'There is not such another walking, you will easily know I mean that reheathen in the town except the shoemaker.' gular but easy motion which gives our persons His pretensions to be the hero of the drama so irresistible a grace as if we moved to music, appears still more in his own description of and is a kind of disengaged figure; or if I may his way of living with his lady. 'There is,' so speak, recitative dancing. But the want of says he, never a man in town lives more like this I cannot blame in her, for I find she has a gentleman with his wife than I do; I never no ear, and means nothing by walking but to mind her motions; she never inquires into change her place. I could pardon too her mine. We speak to one another civilly, hate blushing, if she knew how to carry herself in one another heartily; and because it is vulgar it, and if it did not manifestly injure her comto lie and soak together, we have each of us plexion. our several settle-bed.' That of soaking together' is as good as if Dorimant had spoken it himself; and I think, since he puts human nature in as ugly a form as the circumstance will bear, and is a staunch unbeliever, he is very much wronged in having no part of the good fortune bestowed in the last act. 6 To speak plain of this whole work, I think nothing but being lost to a sense of innocence and virtue, can make any one see this comedy, without observing more frequent occasion to move sorrow and indignation, than mirth and laughter. At the same time I allow it to be nature, but it is nature in its utmost corruption and degeneracy. No. 66.] Wednesday, May 16, 1711. Motus doceri gaudet Ionicos Matura virgo, et fingitur artibus R. Hor. Lib. 3. Od. vi. 21. Behold a ripe and melting maid Ionian artists, at a mighty price, THE two following letters are upon a subject of very great importance, though expressed without any air of gravity, They tell me you are a person who have seen the world, and are a judge of fine breeding; which makes me ambitious of some instructions from you for her improvement: which when you have favoured me with, I shall further advise with you about the disposal of this fair forester in marriage; for I will make it no secret to you, that her person and education are to be her fortune. SIR, 'I am, Sir, 'CELIMENE.' Being employed by Celimene to make up. and send to you her letter, I make bold to recommend the case therein mentioned to your consideration, because she and I happen to differ a little in our notions. I who am a rough man, am afraid the young girl is in a fair way to be spoiled: therefore, pray, Mr. Speetator, let us have your opinion of this fine thing called fine breeding; for I am afraid it differs too much from that plain thing called good breeding. 'Your most humble servant.' The general mistake among us in the educating our children is, that in our daughters we take care of their persons, and neglect their minds: in our sons we are so intent upon adorning their minds, that we wholly neglect their bodies. It is from this that you shall see The other undertakes the defence of his faa young lady celebrated and admired in all the vourite diversion, which he says, was at first assemblies about town, when her elder brother invented by the goddess Rhea, and preserved is afraid to come into a room. From this ill the life of Jupiter himself, from the cruelty of management it arises, that we frequently ob- his father Saturn. He proceeds to show, that serve a man's life is half spent, before he is ta- it had been approved by the greatest men in ken notice of; and a woman in the prime of all ages; that Homer calls Merion a fine danher years is out of fashion and neglected. The cer; and says, that the graceful mein and boy I shall consider upon some other occasion, great agility which he had acquired by that and at present stick to the girl: and I am the exercise, distinguished him above the rest in more inclined to this, because I have several the armies both of Greeks and Trojans. letters which complain to me, that my female He adds, that Pyrrhus gained more reputareaders have not understood me for some days tion by inventing the dance which is called aflast past, and take themselves to be unconcerned ter his name, than by all his other actions: in the present turn of my writing. When a that the Lacedemonians, who were the bravest girl is safely brought from her nurse, before she people in Greece, gave great encouragement is capable of forming one simple notion of any to this diversion, and made their Hormus (a thing in life, she is delivered to the hands of dance much resembling the French Braw) her dancing-master, and with a collar round famous over all Asia: that there were still exher neck, the pretty wild thing is taught a fan-tant some Thessalian statutes erected to the tastical gravity of behaviour, and forced to a honour of their best dancers; and that he particular way of holding her head, heaving wondered how his brother philosopher could her breast, and moving with her whole body; declare himself against the opinions of those and all this under pain of never having an hus- two persons, whom he professed so much to band, if she steps, looks, or moves awry. This admire, Homer and Hesiod; the latter of gives the young lady wonderful workings of which compares valour and dancing together, imagination, what is to pass between her and and says, that the gods have bestowed fortithis husband, that she is every moment told of, tude on some men, and on others a disposition and for whom she seems to be educated. Thus for dancing.' her fancy is engaged to turn all her endeavours to the ornament of her person, as what must determine her good and ill in this life; and she naturally thinks, if she is tall enough, she is wise enough for any thing for which her education makes her think she is designed. To make her an agreeable person is the main purpose of her parents; to that is all their cost, to that all their care directed; and from this general folly of parents we owe our present numerous race of coquettes. These re- I love to shelter myself under the examples flections puzzle me, when I think of giving my of great men; and, I think I have sufficiently advice on the subject of managing the wild showed that it is not below the dignity of these thing mentioned in the letter of my correspon-my speculations to take notice of the followdent. But sure there is a middle way to be ing letter, which, I suppose, is sent me by followed; the management of a young lady's some substantial tradesman about 'Change. person is not to be overlooked, but the erudition of her mind is much more to be regarded. According as this is managed, you will see 'I am a man in years, and by an honest inthe mind follow the appetites of the body, or dustry in the world have acquired enough to the body express the virtues of the mind. give my children a liberal education, though I Cleomira dances with all the elegance of was an utter stranger to it myself. My eldest motion imaginable; but her eyes are so chas-daughter, a girl of sixteen, has for some time tised with the simplicity and innocence of her been under the tuition of Monsieur Rigadoon, thoughts, that she raises in her beholders ad-a dancing-master in the city: and I was premiration and good-will, but no loose hope or wild imagination. The true art in this case is, to make the mind and body improve together; and if possible, to make gesture follow thought, and not let thought be employed upon gesture. No. 67. R. Sall. Tuesday, May 17, 1711. Saltare elegantiùs quam necesse est probæ. Too fine a dancer for a virtuous woman. LUCIAN, in one of his dialogues, introduces a philosopher chiding his friend for his being a lover of dancing, and a frequenter of balls. Lastly, he puts him in mind that Socrates, (who, in the judgment of Apollo, was the wisest of men) was not only a professed admirer of this exercise in others, but learned it himself when he was an old man. The morose philosopher is so much affected by these and some other authorities, that he becomes a convert to his friend, and desires he would take him with him when he went to his next ball. vailed SIR, upon by her and her mother to go last night to one of his balls. I must own to you, before, I was very much pleased and surprised sir, that having never been to any such place called French dancing. There were several with that part of his entertainment which he young men and women, whose limbs seemed to have no other motion but purely what the music gave them. After this part was over, they began a diversion which they call country dancing, and wherein there were also some things not disagreeable, and divers emblematical figures, composed, as I guess, by wise men, for the instruction of youth. Among the rest, I observed one, which I think they call "Hunt the Squirrel," in which |