revolted from the whig interest. But whatever this natural patch may seem to intimate, it is well known that her notions of government are still the same. This unlucky mole, however, has misled several coxcombs; and like the hanging out of false colours, made some of them converse with Rosalinda in what they thought the spirit of her party, when on a sudden she has given them an unexpectd fire, that has sunk them all at once. If Rosalinda is unfortunate in her mole, Nigranilla is as unhappy in a pimple, which forces her, against her inclinations, to patch on the whig side. I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial spotting of the face was unlawful, are now reconciled by a zeal for their cause, 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 tigress, that several spots rise in her skin when she is angry, or as Mr. Cowley has imitated the verses that stand as the motto of this paper:

She swells with angry pride,

And calls forth all her spots on every side.'* When I was in the theatre the time above-mentioned, I had the curiosity to count the patches on both sides, and found the tory patches to be about twenty stronger than the whig; but to make amends for this small inequality, I the next morning found the whole puppet-show filled with faces spotted 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 so great a body to the opera, that they outnumbered the enemy.

This account of party-patches will, I am afraid, appear improbable to those who live at a distance from the fashionable world; but as it is a distinction of a very singular nature, and what perhaps may never meet with a parallel, I think I should not have discharged the office of a faithful Spectator, had not I recorded it.

I have, in former papers, endeavoured to expose this party-rage in women, as it only serves to aggravate the hatreds and animosities that reign among men, and in a great measure deprives the fair sex of those peculiar charms with which nature has endowed them.

visions, 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 reason, among others, they forbad them under pain of death, to be present at the Olympic games, notwithstanding these were the public diversions of all Greece.

As our English women exceed those of all nations in beauty, they should endeavour to outshine them in all other accomplishments proper to the sex, and to distinguish themselves as tender mothers, and faithful wives, rather than as furious partisans. Female virtues are of a domestic turn. The family is the proper province for private women to shine in. If they must be showing their zeal for the public, let it not be against those who are perhaps of the same family, or at least of the same religion or nation, but against those who are the open, professed, undoubted enemies of their faith, liberty, and country. When the Romans were pressed with a foreign enemy, the ladies voluntarily contributed all their rings and jewels to assist the government under a public exigence, which appeared so laudable an action in the eyes of their countrymen, that from thenceforth it was permitted by a law to pronounce public orations at the funeral of a woman, in praise of the deceased person, which till that time was peculiar to men. Would our English ladies, instead of sticking on a patch against those of their own country, show themselves so truly public-spirited as to sacrifice every one her necklace against the common enemy, what decrees ought not to be made in favour of them.

Since I am recollecting upon this subject such passages as occur to my memory out of ancient authors, I cannot omit a sentence in the celebrated funeral oration of Pericles, which he made in honour of those brave Athenians that were slain in a fight with the Lacedemonians. After having addressed himself to the several ranks and orders of his countrymen, and shown them how they should behave themselves 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 to your sex; follow your natural modesty, and think it your greatest commendation not to be talked of one way or other.'

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, interposed with so many tears and entreaties, that they prevented the No. 82.] Monday, June 4, 1711. mutual slaughter which threatened both parties, and united them together in a firm and lasting peace.

I would recommend this noble example to our British ladies, at a time when their country is torn with so many unnatural diDavideis, Book III. v. 47.

-Caput domina venale sub hasta.

C.

Juv. Sat. iii. 33.

His fortunes ruin'd, and himself a slave.

PASSING under Ludgate‡ the other day, I heard a voice bawling for charity, which

†Thucyd. Hist. L. II. p. 130, edit. H. Steph. 1568. folio. Ludgate, in the year 1373, was constituted a prison

I thought I had somewhere heard before. | he transgresses payment, so much as that
Coming near to the gate, the prisoner call- demand comes to, in his debtor's honour,
ed me by my name, and desired I would liberty, and fortune. One would think he
throw something into the box: I was out of did not know that his creditor can say the
countenance for him, and did as he bid me, worst thing imaginable of him, to wit,
by putting in half a crown. I went away, That he is unjust,' without defamation;
reflecting upon the strange constitution of and can seize his person without being
some men, and how meanly they behave guilty of an assault. Yet such is the loose
themselves in all sorts of conditions. The and abandoned turn of some men's minds,
person who begged of me is now, as I take that they can live under these constant ap-
it, fifty: I was well acquainted with him till prehensions, and still go on to increase the
about the age of twenty-five; at which cause of them. Can there be a more low
time, a good estate fell to him by the death and servile condition, than to be ashamed or
of a relation. Upon coming to this unex- afraid to see any one man breathing? Yet
pected good fortune, he ran into all the ex- he that is much in debt, is in that condition
travagances imaginable; was frequently in with relation to twenty different people.
drunken fits, broke drawers' heads, talked There are indeed circumstances wherein
and swore loud, was unmannerly to those men of honest natures may become liable
above him, and insolent to those below him. to debts, by some unadvised behaviour in
I could not but remark, that it was the any great point of their life, or mortgaging
same baseness of spirit which worked in a man's honesty as a security for that of
his behaviour in both fortunes: the same another, and the like: but these instances
little mind was insolent in riches, and are so particular and circumstantiated, that
shameless in poverty. This accident made they cannot come within general considera-
me muse upon the circumstance of being tions. For one such case as one of these,
in debt in general, and solve in my mind there are ten, where a man, to keep up a
what tempers were most apt to fall into farce of retinue and grandeur within his
this error of life, as well as the misfortune own house, shall shrink at the expectation
it must needs be to languish under such of surly demands at his doors. The debtor
pressures. As for myself, my natural aver- is the creditor's criminal, and all the offi-
sion to that sort of conversation which cers of power and state, whom we behold
makes a figure with the generality of man- make so great a figure, are no other than
kind, exempts me from any temptations to so many persons in authority to make good
expense; and all my business lies within a his charge against him. Human society
very narrow compass, which is only to give depends upon his having the vengeance
an honest man who takes care of my estate, law allots him; and the debtor owes his
proper vouchers for his quarterly pay- liberty to his neighbour, as much as the
ments to me, and observe what linen my murderer does his life to his prince.
laundress brings and takes away with her Our gentry are, generally speaking, in
once a week. My steward brings his re- debt: and many families have put it into a
ceipt ready for my signing; and I have kind of method of being so from generation
a pretty implement with the respective to generation. The father mortgages when
names of shirts, cravats, handkerchiefs and his son is very young: and the boy is to
stockings, with proper numbers, to know marry, as soon as he is at age, to redeem it
how to reckon with my laundress. This and find portions for his sisters. This, for-
being almost all the business I have in the sooth, is no great inconvenience to him; for
world for the care of my own affairs, I am he may wench, keep a public table, or feed
at full leisure to observe upon what others dogs, like a worthy English gentleman, till
do, with relation to their equipage and he has out-run half his estate, and leave
the same incumbrance upon his first-born,
and so on, till one man of more vigour than
ordinary, goes quite through the estate, or
some man of sense comes into it, and scorns
to have an estate in partnership, that is to

economy.

When I walk the street, and observe the hurry about me in this town,,

'Where, with like haste, thro' several ways they run;
Some to undo, and some to be undone;'*
I say, when I behold this vast variety of say, liable to the demand or insult of any
persons and humours, with the pains they man living. There is my friend Sir An-
both take for the accomplishment of the drew, though for many years a great and
ends mentioned in the above verses of Den- general trader, was never the defendant in
ham, I cannot much wonder at the endea- a law-suit, in all the perplexity of business,
your after gain, but am extremely asto- and the iniquity of mankind at present; no
nished that men can be so insensible of the one had any colour for the least complaint
danger of running into debt. One would against his dealings with him. This is cer-
think it impossible that a man who is given tainly as uncommon, and in its proportion
to contract debts should not know, that his as laudable in a citizen, as it is in a general
creditor has, from that moment in which never to have suffered a disadvantage in
fight. How different from this gentleman
is Jack Truepenny, who has been an old
acquaintance of Sir Andrew and myself
from boys, but could never learn our cau-

it was taken down in the year 1762.
for such debtors as were freemen of the city of London:
*Cooper's Hill, v. 31.

tion. Jack has a whorish unresisting good- as the first sketch and outlines of a vision, nature, which makes him incapable of than as a finished piece. having a property in any thing. His for- I dreamt that I was admitted into a long tune, his reputation, his time, and his ca- spacious gallery, which had one side copacity, are at any man's service that comes vered with pieces of all the famous painters first. When he was at school, he was who are now living, and the other with whipped thrice a week for faults he took the works of the greatest masters that are upon him to excuse others; since he came dead.

into the business of the world, he has been On the side of the living, I saw several arrested twice or thrice a year for debts persons busy in drawing, colouring, and dehe had nothing to do with, but as surety signing. On the side of the dead painters, for others; and I remember when a friend I could not discover more than one per of his had suffered in the vice of the town, son at work, who was exceedingly slow in all the physic his friend took was conveyed his motions, and wonderfully nice in his to him by Jack, and inscribed 'A bolus, or touches.

an electuary for Mr. Truepenny.' Jack I was resolved to examine the several had a good estate left him which came to artists that stood before me, and accordnothing; because he believed all who pre-ingly applied myself to the side of the liv tended to demands upon it. This easiness ing. The first I observed at work in this and credulity destroy all the other merit he has; and he has all his life been a sacrifice to others, 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 deserved gentler usage) after lying a whole night in custody

at his suit.

"Sir, your ingratitude for the many kindnesses I have done you, shall not make me unthankful for the good you have done me, in letting me see there is such a man as you in the world. I am obliged to you for the diffidence I shall have all the rest of my life: I shall hereafter trust no man so far as to be in his debt.'

No. 83.] Tuesday, June 5, 1711.

-Animum pictura pascit inani.

R.

part of the gallery was Vanity, with his hair
tied behind him in a riband, and dressed
like a Frenchman. All the faces he drew
were very remarkable for their smiles, and
a certain smirking air which he bestowed
indifferently on every age and degree of
either sex. The toujours gai appeared
even in his judges, bishops, and privy-coun
sellors. 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 to-
gether; every part of the dress was in a
flutter, and endeavoured to distinguish itself
above the rest.

On the left hand of Vanity stood a laborious 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 Venitian scaramouch. He had an excellent hand at chimera, and dealt very much in distortions and grimaces. He would sometimes af fright himself with the phantoms that flow ed 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.

Virg. n. i. 468. And with the shadowy picture feeds his mind. WHEN the weather hinders me from taking my diversions without doors, I frequently make a little party with two or three select friends, to visit any thing curious that may be seen under covert. My principal entertainments of this nature are pictures, insomuch, that when I have found the weather set in to be very bad, I have taken a whole day's journey to see a gallery that is furnished by the hands of great mas- The fourth person I examined was very ters. By this means, when the heavens are remarkable for his hasty hand, which left filled with clouds, when the earth swims in his pictures so unfinished, that the beauty rain, and all nature wears a lowering coun- in the picture (which was designed to con tenance, I withdraw myself from these un- tinue as a monument of it to posterity) faded comfortable scenes into the visionary worlds sooner than in the person after whom it was of art; where I meet with shining land-drawn. He made so much haste to des scapes, gilded triumphs, beautiful faces, and all those other objects that fill the mind with gay ideas, and disperse that gloominess which is apt to hang upon it in those dark disconsolate seasons.

patch his business, that he neither gave himself time to clean his pencils, nor mix his colours. The name of this expeditious workman was Avarice.

Not far from this artist I saw another of I was some weeks ago in a course of these a quite different nature, who was dressed in diversions; which had taken such an entire the habit of a Dutchman, and known by possession of my imagination, that they the name of Industry. His figures were formed in it a short morning's dream, which wonderfully laboured. If he drew the por I shall communicate to my reader, rather traiture of a man, he did not omit a single

mair in his face; if the figure of a ship, there | hair upon his forehead, discovered him to
was not a rope among the tackle that es- be Time.
caped him. He had likewise hung a great
part of the wall with night-pieces, that
eemed to show themselves by the candles
which were lighted up in several parts of
hem; and were so inflamed by the sun-
shine which accidentally fell upon them,

Whether it were because the thread of my
dream was at an end I cannot tell, but upon
my taking a survey of this imaginary old
man, my sleep left me.
C.

hat at first sight I could scarce forbear No. 84.] Wednesday, June 6, 1711.
crying out 'Fire.'

The five foregoing artists were the most Considerable on this side the gallery; there were indeed several others whom I had not ime to look into. One of them, however, I could not forbear observing, who was very busy in retouching the finest pieces, though he produced no originals of his own. His pencil aggravated every feature that was before overcharged, loaded every defect, and poisoned every colour it touched. Though this workman did so much mischief on the side of the living, he never turned his eye towards that of the dead. His name was Envy.

-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?
LOOKING Over the old manuscript where-
in the private actions of Pharamond are set
down by way of table-book, I found many
things which gave me great delight, and
as human life turns upon the same princi-
ples and passions in all ages, I thought it
very proper to take minutes of what passed
in that age for the instruction 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 insert here,
because I may have occasion to mention
many of their conversations, into which
these memorials of them may give light.

Having taken a cursory view of one side
of the gallery, I turned myself to that which
was filled by the works of those great mas-
ters that were dead; when immediately I
fancied myself standing before a multitude
of spectators, and thousands of eyes looking
upon me at once: for all before me appeared
so like men and women, that I almost for-
got they were pictures. Raphael's figures 'Pharamond, when he had a mind to re-
stood in one row, Titian's in another, Guido tire for an hour or two from the hurry of
Rheni's in a third. One part of the wall business and fatigue of ceremony, made a
was peopled by Hannibal Carrache, an- signal to Eucrate, by putting his hand to
other by Corregio, and another by Rubens. his face, placing his arm negligently on a
To be short, there was not a great master window, or some such action as appeared
among the dead who had not contributed indifferent to all the rest of the company.
to the embellishment of this side of the gal- Upon such notice, unobserved by others
lery. The persons that owed their being (for their entire intimacy was always a se-
to these several masters, appeared all of cret) Eucrate repaired to his own apart-
them to be real and alive, and differed ment to receive the king. There was a
among one another only in the variety of secret access to this part of the court, at
their shapes, complexions, and clothes; so which Eucrate used to admit many whose
that they looked like different nations of mean appearance in the eyes of the ordi-
the same species.
Observing
nary waiters and door-keepers, made them
an old man (who was the same be repulsed from other parts of the palace.
person I before mentioned, as the only artist Such as these were let in here by order of
that was at work on this side of the gallery) Eucrate, and had audiences of Pharamond.
creeping up and down from one picture to This entrance Pharamond called "The
another, and retouching all the fine pieces gate of the unhappy," and the tears of the
that stood before me, I could not but be afflicted who came before him, he would
very attentive to all his motions. I found say, were bribes received by Eucrate; for
his pencil was so very light, that it worked Eucrate had the most compassionate spirit
imperceptibly, and after a thousand touches, of all men living, except his generous mas-
scarce produced any visible effect in the ter, who was always kindled at the least
picture on which he was employed. How- affliction which was communicated to him.
ever, as he busied himself incessantly, and In regard for the miserable, Eucrate took
repeated touch after touch without rest or particular care that the common forms of
intermission, he wore off insensibly every distress, and the idle pretenders to sorrow,
little disagreeable gloss that hung upon a about courts, who wanted only supplies to
figure.
brown to the shades, and mellowness to the means: but the distresses which arise from
colours, that he made every picture appear the many inexplicable occurrences that
more perfect than when it came fresh from happen among men, the unaccountable
the master's pencil. I could not forbear alienation of parents from their children,
looking upon the face of this ancient work- cruelty of husbands to wives, poverty oc-
man, and immediately, by the long lock of casioned from shipwreck or fire, the falling

about.

out of friends, or such other terrible disas- | hearing the voice of it; I am sure Pharaters, to which the life of man is exposed; mond is not. Know, then, that I have this in cases of this nature, Eucrate was the morning unfortunately killed in a duel, the patron; and enjoyed this part of the royal man whom of all men living I most loved. favour so much without being envied, that I command myself too much in your royal it was never inquired into, by whose means presence, to say, Pharamond gave me my what no one else cared for doing, was brought friend! Pharamond has taken him from me! I will not say, Shall the merciful Pha'One evening when Pharamond came ramond destroy his own subjects? Will the into the apartment of Eucrate, he found father of his country murder his people? him extremely dejected; upon which he But the merciful Pharamond does destroy asked, (with a smile that was natural to his subjects, the father of his country does him,)What, is there any one too misera-murder his people. Fortune is so much the ble to be relieved by Pharamond, that Eu- pursuit of mankind, that all glory and hocrate is melancholy?" "I fear there is,' nour is in the power of a prince, because he answered the favourite: "A person with- has the distribution of their fortunes. It is out, of a good air, well dressed, and though therefore the inadvertency, negligence, or a man in the strength of his life, seems to guilt of princes to let any thing grow into faint under some inconsolable calamity. All custom which is against their laws. A his features seem suffused with agony of court can make fashion and duty walk tomind; but I can observe in him, that it is gether; it can never without the guilt of a more inclined to break away in tears, than court, happen, that it shall not be unfashionrage. I asked him what he would have.. able to do what is unlawful. But, alas! in He said he would speak to Pharamond. I the dominions of Pharamond, by the force desired his business. He could hardly say of a tyrant custom, which is misnamed a to me, 'Eucrate, carry me to the king, my point of honour, the duellist kills his friend story is not to be told twice; I fear I shall whom he loves; and the judge condemns not be able to speak it at all.' Pharamond the duellist while he approves his behavi commanded Eucrate to let him enter; he our. Shame is the greatest of all evils did so, and the gentleman approached the what avail laws, when death only attends king with an air which spoke him under the breach of them, and shame obedience the greatest concern in what manner to de- to them? As for me, oh Pharamond, were mean himself. The king, who had a quick it possible to describe the nameless kinds discerning, relieved him from the oppres- of compunctions and tenderness I feel, when sion he was under: and with the most beau- I reflect upon the little accidents in our for tiful complacency, said to him, "Sir, do mer familiarity, my mind swells into sorrow not add to that load of sorrow I see in your which cannot be resisted enough to be silent countenance the awe of my presence. Think in the presence of Pharamond. (With that you are speaking to your friend. If the he fell into a flood of tears, and wept aloud.) circumstances of your distress will admit of Why should not Pharamond hear the an it, you shall find me so. To whom the guish he only can relieve others from in stranger: "Oh, excellent Pharamond, name time to come? Let him hear from me not a friend to the unfortunate Spinamont.* what they feel who have given death b I had one, but he is dead by my own hand; the false mercy of his administration, and but, oh Pharamond, though it was by the form to himself the vengeance called for hand of Spinamont, it was by the guilt of by those who have perished by his negli Pharamond. I come not, oh excellent gence. prince, to implore your pardon; I come to relate my sorrow, a sorrow too great for human life to support; from henceforth No. 85.] Thursday, June 7, 1711. shall all occurrences appear dreams, or short intervals of amusement, for this one affliction which has seized my very being. Pardon me, oh Pharamond, if my griefs give me leave, that I lay before you in the anguish of a wounded mind, that you, good as you are, are guilty of the generous blood spilt this day by this unhappy hand. Oh that it had perished before that instant!" Here the stranger paused, and recollecting his mind, after some little meditation, he went on in a calmer tone and gesture as follows:

"There is an authority due to distress, and as none of human race is above the reach of sorrow, none should be above the

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 recte
Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte,
Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,
Quam versus inopes rerum, nugæque canora.

R.

Hors. Ars Poct. ver. 319.

-When the sentiments and manners please,
And all the characters are wrought with ease,
Your Tale, though void of beauty, force, and art,
More strongly shall delight, and warm the heart;
Than where a lifeless pomp of verse appears,
And with sonorous trifles charms our ears.

Francis.

Ir is the custom of the Mahometans, they see any printed or written paper upo the ground, to take it up and lay it asid carefully, as not knowing but it may com tain some piece of their Alcoran. I mus in me, that I cannot forbear looking int confess I have so much of the Mussulma every printed paper which comes in m