ping vated US, a breat bork 75.512 Ge. C th par rules Reces e F It v ed vm *མ N° 62. FRIDAY, MAY 11, 1711. Scribendi recte, sapere est et principium et fons. 73 ments of these secondary authors, to distinguish the several kinds of wit by terms of art, and to consider them as more or less perfect, according as they were founded in truth. It is no wonder, therefore, that even such authors as Isocrates, Plato, and Cicero, should have such little blemishes as are not to be met with in authors of a much inferior character who have written since those several blemishes were discovered. I do not find that there was a proper separation made between puns and MR. LOCKE has an admirable reflection upon the true wit by any of the ancient authors, except difference of wit and judgment, whereby he enQuintilian and Longinus. But when this distinc- deavours to show the reason why they are not altion was once settled, it was very natural for all ways the talents of the same person. HOR. Ars Poet. ver. 309. Sound judgment is the ground of writing well. ROSCOMMON. His words men of sense to agree in it. As for the revival of are as follow: And hence, perhaps, may be given this false wit, it happened about the time of the some reason of that common observation, "That revival of letters; but as soon as it was once de- men who have a great deal of wit and prompt tected, it immediately vanished and disappeared. memories, have not always the clearest judgment, At the same time there is no question, but as it or deepest reason." has sunk in one age and rose in another, it will semblage of ideas, and putting those together with again recover itself in some distant period of time, quickness and variety wherein can be found any For wit lying most in the as as pedantry and ignorance shall prevail upon wit resemblance or congruity, thereby to make up and sense. And, to speak the truth, I do very pleasant pictures, and agreeable visions in the much apprehend, by some of the last winter's pro- fancy; judgment, on the contrary, lies quite on ductions, which had their sets of admirers, that our the other side, in separating carefully one from posterity will, in a few years, degenerate into another, ideas wherein can be found the least difrace of punsters: at least, a man may be very ex- ference, thereby to avoid being misled by similicusable for any apprehensions of this kind, that tude and by affinity, to take one thing for another. has seen acrostics handed about the town with This is a way of proceeding quite contrary to megreat secrecy and applause; to which I must also taphor and allusion; wherein, for the most part, add a little epigram called the Witches' Prayer, lies that entertainment and pleasantry of wit, that fell into verse when it was read either back- which strikes so lively on the fancy, and is thereward or forward, excepting only that it cursed fore so acceptable to all people.' one way and blessed the other. When one sees there are actually such pains-takers among our account that I have ever met with of wit, which British wits, who can tell what it may end in? If generally, though not always, consists in such a we must lash one another, let it be with the manly resemblance and congruity of ideas as this author strokes of wit and satire; for I am of the old mentions. I shall only add to it, by way of expla philosopher's opinion, that if I must suffer from nation, that every resemblance of ideas is not that one or the other, I would rather it should be from which we call wit, unless it be such an one that the paw of a lion, than the hoof of an ass. not speak this out of any spirit of party. There two properties seem essential to wit, more partiI do gives delight and surprise to the reader. These is a most crying dulness on both sides. I have seen cularly the last of them. In order, therefore, that tory acrostics and whig anagrams, and do not the resemblance in the ideas be wit, it is necesquarrel with either of them, because they are sary that the ideas should not lie too near one anwhigs or tories, but because they are anagrams and acrostics. This is, I think, the best and most philosophical other in the nature of things; for where the likeBut to return to punning. Having pursued the one man's singing to that of another, or to repreness is obvious, it gives no surprise. To compare history of a pun, from its original to its downfal, sent the whiteness of any object by that of milk I shall here define it to be a conceit arising from and snow, or the variety of its colours by those of the use of two words that agree in the sound, but the rainbow, cannot be called wit, unless, besides differ in the sense. The only way, therefore, to this obvious resemblance, there be some further a piece of wit, is to translate it into a different congruity discovered in the two ideas, that is caanguage. If it bears the test, you may pronounce pable of giving the reader some surprise. Thus true; but if it vanishes in the experiment, you when a poet tells us the bosom of his mistress is as y conclude it to have been a pun. In short, one white as snow, there is no wit in the comparison; Hay say of a pun, as the countryman described his but when he adds, with a sigh, it is as cold too, it htingale, that it is vox et præterea nilil, a then grows into wit. Every reader's memory may und and nothing but a sound. On the contrary, supply him with innumerable instances of the same may represent true wit by the description nature. For this reason, the similitudes in heroic ich Aristenetus makes of a fine woman; when poets, who endeavour rather to fill the mind with be is dressed she is beautiful, when she is un-great conceptions, than to divert it with such as ressed she is beautiful; or, as Mercerus has trans-are new and surprising, have seldom any thing in led it more emphatically, Induitur, formosa est: them that can be called wit. Mr. Locke's account itur, ipea forma eat."* of wit, with this short explanation, comprehends most of the species of wit, as metaphors, similitudes, allegories, enigmas, mottos, parables, fables, dreams, visions, dramatic writings, burlesque, and all the methods of allusion. There are many other pieces of wit (how remote soever they may appear at first sight from the foregoing description) which, upon examination, will be found to agree with it. As true wit generally consists in this resemblance ADDISON. How beautiful she looks when dress'd! Bot view her freed from this disguise, Stript of th' unnecessary vest Tis Beauty's self before your eyes. C. L and congruity of ideas, false wit chiefly consists in warm, but beget. Love in another place cooks the resemblance and congruity sometimes of single pleasure at his fire. Sometimes the poet's heart letters, as in anagrams, chronograms, lipograms, and is frozen in every breast, and sometimes scorched acrostics: sometimes of syllables, as in echoes and in every eye. Sometimes he is drowned in tears, doggerel rhymes: sometimes of words, as in puns and burnt in love, like a ship set on fire in the and quibbles; and sometimes of whole sentences or middle of the sea. poems, cast into the figures of eggs, axes, or altars : nay, some carry the notion of wit so far, as to ascribe it even to external mimicry; and to look upon a man as an ingenious person, that can resemble the tone, posture, or face of another. The reader may observe in every one of these instances, that the poet mixes the qualities of fire with those of love; and in the same sentence, speaking of it both as a passion and as real fire, surprises the reader with those seeming resemAs true wit consists in the resemblance of ideas, blances or contradictions, that make up all the wit and false wit in the resemblance of words, accord-in this kind of writing. Mixt wit, therefore, is a ing to the foregoing instances; there is another composition of pun and true wit, and is more or kind of wit, which consists partly in the resem. less perfect, as the resemblance lies in the ideas blance of ideas, and partly in the resemblance or in the words. Its foundations are laid partly in of words, which, for distinction-sake, I shall call falsehood and partly in truth; reason puts in her mixt wit. This kind of wit is that which abounds claim for one half of it, and extravagance for the in Cowley more than in any other author that ever other. The only province, therefore, for this kind wrote. Mr. Waller has likewise a great deal of it. of wit is epigram, or those little occasional poems, Mr. Dryden is very sparing in it. Milton had a that in their own nature are nothing else but a genius much above it. Spenser is in the same class tissue of epigrams. I cannot conclude this head of with Milton. The Italians, even in their epic poe- mixt wit, without owning that the admirable poet, try, are full of it. Monsieur Boileau, who formed out of whom I have taken the examples of it, bad himself upon the ancient poets, has every where as much true wit as any author that ever writ; rejected it with scorn. If we look after mixt wit and, indeed, all other talents of an extraordinary among the Greek writers, we shall find it no where genius. but in the epigrammatists. There are, indeed, It may be expected, since I am upon this subject, some strokes of it in the little poem ascribed to that I should take notice of Mr Dryden's defini Museus, which by that, as well as many other tion of wit; which, with all the deference that is marks, betrays itself to be a modern composition due to the judgment of so great a man, is not so If we look into the Latin writers, we find none of properly a definition of wit as of good writing in this mixt wit in Virgil, Lucretius, or Catullus; very general. Wit, as he defines it, is little in Horace, but a great deal of it in Ovid, and scarcely any thing else in Martial. a propriety of words and thoughts adapted to the subject? If this be a true definition of wit, I am apt to think Out of the innumerable branches of mixt wit, that Euclid was the greatest wit that ever set pen I shall choose one instance which may be met with to paper. It is certain there never was a greater in all the writers of this class. The passion of propriety of words and thoughts adapted to the love in its nature has been thought to resemble fire: subject, than what that author has made use of in for which reason the words fire and flame are made his Elements. I shall only appeal to my reader, use of to signify love. The witty poets, therefore, if this definition agrees with any notion he has of have taken an advantage from the double meaning wit. If it be a true one, I am sure Mr. Dryden of the word fire, to make an infinite number of was not only a better poet, but a greater wit than witticisms. Cowley, observing the cold regard of Mr. Cowley; and Virgil a much more facetious his mistress's eyes, and, at the same time, their man than either Ovid or Martial. power of producing love in him, considers them as Bouhours, whom I look upon to be the most pe burning-glasses made of ice; and finding himself netrating of all the French critics, has taken pains able to live in the greatest extremities of love, to show, that it is impossible for any thought to be concludes the torrid zone to be habitable. When beautiful which is not just, and has not its founda his mistress has read his letter written in juice of tion in the nature of things; that the basis of all lemon, by holding it to the fire, he desires her to wit is truth; and that no thought can be valuable, read it over a second time by Love's flames. When of which good sense is not the ground-work. Boishe weeps, he wishes it were inward heat, that leau has endeavoured to inculcate the same notion distilled those drops from the limbec. When she in several parts of his writings, both in prose and is absent he is beyond eighty, that is, thirty de-verse. This is that natural way of writing, that grees nearer the pole than when she is with him. beautiful simplicity, which we so much admire in His ambitious love is a fire that naturally mounts the compositions of the ancients; and which no upwards; his happy love is the beams of heaven, body deviates from, but those who want strength and his unhappy love flames of hell. When it of genius to make a thought shine in its own natudoes not let him sleep, it is a flame that sends up ral beauties. Poets who want this strength of ge no smoke; when it is opposed by counsel and ad-nius to give that majestic simplicity to nature, vice, it is a fire that rages the more by the winds blowing upon it. Upon the dying of a tree, in which he had cut his loves, he observed that his written flames had burnt up and withered the tree. When he resolves to give over his passion, he tells us that one burnt like him for ever dreads the fire. His heart is an Etna that, instead of Vulcan's shop, encloses Cupid's forge in it. His endeavouring to drown his love in wine, is throwing oil upon the fire. He would insinuate to his mistress, that the fire of love, like that of the sun (which produces so many living creatures), should not only which we so much admire in the works of the ancients, are forced to hunt after foreign ornaments, and not to let any piece of wit of what kind soever escape them. I look upon these writers as Goths in poetry, who, like those in architecture, not be ing able to come up to the beautiful simplicity of the old Greeks and Romans, have endeavoured to supply its place with all the extravagancies of an irregular fancy. Mr. Dryden makes a very handsome observation on Ovid's writing a letter from Dido to Eneas, in the following words: Ovid (says he, speaking of Virgil's fiction of Dido and Eneas) takes it up after him, even in the same age,Į and makes an ancient heroine of Virgil's new-created Dido; dictates a letter for her just before her death, to the ungrateful fugitive, and very unluckily for himself, is for measuring a sword with a man so much superior in force to him on the same subject. I think I may be judge of this, because I have translated both. The famous author of the Art of Love has nothing of his own; he borrows all from a greater master in his own profession, and, which is worse, improves nothing which he finds. Nature fails him, and, being forced to his old shift, he has recourse to witticism. This passes, indeed, with his soft admirers, and gives him the preference to Virgil in their esteem.' If in a picture. Piso, you should see Whose incoherent style, like sick men's dreams, Were not I supported by so great an authority as that of Mr. Dryden, I should not venture to observe, that the taste of most of our English poets, as well as readers, is extremely Gothic. He quotes Monsieur Segrais for a threefold distinction of the readers of poetry; in the first of which he com- Ir is very hard for the mind to disengage itself prehends the rabble of readers, whom he does not from a subject on which it has been long emtreat as such with regard to their quality, but to ployed. The thoughts will be rising of themselves their numbers and the coarseness of their taste. from time to time, though we give them no encou His words are as follow: Segrais has distinguished ragement; as the tossings and fluctuations of the the readers of poetry, according to their capacity sea continue several hours after the winds are of judging, into three classes." [He might have laid. said the same of writers too, if he had pleased.] It is to this that I impute my last night's dream In the lowest form he places those whom he calls or vision, which formed into one continued alleLes Petits Esprits, such things as are our upper-gory the several schemes of wit, whether false, gallery audience in a playhouse; who like nothing mixed, or true, that have been the subject of my but the husk and rind of wit, and prefer a quibble, late papers. a conceit, an epigram, before solid sense and ele- Methought I was transported into a country that gant expression. These are mob readers. If Vir was filled with prodigies and enchantments, gogil and Martial stood for parliament-men, we know verned by the goddess of Falsehood, and entitled already who would carry it. But though they the Region of False Wit. There was nothing in made the greatest appearance in the field, and the fields, the woods, and the rivers, that appeared cried the loudest, the best on it is, they are but a natural. Several of the trees blossomed in leafsort of French Huguenots, or Dutch Boors, brought gold, some of them produced bone-lace, and some over in herds, but not naturalized; who have not of them precious stones. lands of two pounds per annum in Parnassus, and in an opera tune, and were filled with stags, wild The fountains bubbled therefore are not privileged to poll. Their au- boars, and mermaids, that lived among the waters; thors are of the same level, fit to represent them at the same time that dolphins and several kinds of on a mountebank's stage, or to be master of the fish played upon the banks, or took their pastime ceremonies in a bear-garden: yet these are they in the meadows. The birds had many of them who have the most admirers. But it often happens, golden beaks, and human voices. The flowers perto their mortification, that as their readers im- fumed the air with smells of incense, ambergrease, prove their stock of sense (as they may by reading and pulvillios; and were so interwoven with one better books, and by conversation with men of another, that they grew up in pieces of embroijagment) they soon forsake them." dery. The winds were filled with sighs and mes I must not dismiss this subject without observ. sages of distant lovers. As I was walking to and ing, that as Mr. Locke in the passage above men-fro in this enchanted wilderness, I could not fortioned has discovered the most fruitful source of bear breaking out into soliloquies upon the several wit, so there is another of a quite contrary nature wonders which lay before me, when, to my great to it, which does likewise branch itself out into surprise, I found there were artificial echoes in several kinds. For not only the resemblance, but every walk, that, by repetitions of certain words the opposition of ideas, does very often produce which I spoke, agreed with me, or contradicted Wit; as I could show in several little points, turns, me, in every thing I said. In the midst of my and antitheses, that I may possibly enlarge upon, conversation with these invisible companions, I A some future speculation. ADDISON. C. discovered in the centre of a very dark grove a monstrous fabric, built after the Gothic manner, and covered with innumerable devices in that barbarous kind of sculpture. I immediately went up to it, and found it to be a kind of heathen temple consecrated to the god of Dulness. Upon my entrance I saw the Deity of the place dressed in the habit of a monk, with a book in one hand, and a rattle in the other. Upon his right hand was Industry, with a lamp burning before her; and on his left Caprice, with a monkey sitting on her shoulder. Before his feet there stood an altar of a very odd make, which, as I afterwards found, was shaped in that manner to comply with the inscription that surrounded it. Upon the altar there lay several offerings of axes, wings, and eggs, cut On her right hand there marched a male deity, who in paper, and inscribed with verses. The temple bore several quivers on his shoulders, and grasped was filled with votaries, who applied themselves to several arrows in his hand. His name was Wit. different diversions, as their fancies directed them. The approach of these two enemies filled all the In one part of it I saw a regiment of anagrams, territories of False Wit with an unspeakable conwho were continually in motion, turning to the sternation, insomuch that the goddess of those reright or to the left, facing about, doubling their gions appeared in person upon her frontiers, with ranks, shifting their stations, and throwing themselves into all the figures and countermarches of the most changeable and perplexed exercise. the several inferior deities, and the different bodies of forces which I had before seen in the temple, who were now drawn up in array, and prepared Not far from these was the body of Acrostics, to give their foes a warm reception. As the march made up of very disproportioned persons. It was of the enemy was very slow, it gave time to the disposed into three columns, the officers planting several inhabitants who bordered uponthe Regions themselves in a line on the left hand of each co- of Falsehood to draw their forces into a body, lumn. The officers were all of them at least six with a design to stand upon their guard as neuters, feet high, and made three rows of very proper and attend the issue of the combat. men; but the common soldiers, who filled up the I must here inform my reader, that the frontiers spaces between the officers, were such dwarfs, of the enchanted region, which I have before decripples, and scarecrows, that one could hardly scribed, were inhabited by the species of Mixt look upon them without laughing. There were Wit, who made a very odd appearance when they behind the Acrostics two or three files of Chrono- were mustered together in an army. There were grams, which differed only from the former, as their men whose bodies were stuck full of darts, and officers were equipped (like the figure of Time) women whose eyes were burning-glasses: men that with an hour-glass in one hand, and a scythe in the had hearts of fire, and women that had breasts of other, and took their posts promiscuously among snow. It would be endless to describe several the private 'men whom they commanded. monsters of the like nature, that composed this In the body of the temple, and before the very great army; which immediately fell asunder, and face of the deity, methought I saw the phantom of divided itself into two parts, the one half throwTryphiodorus, the Lipogrammatist, engaged in a ing themselves behind the banners of Truth, and ball with four-and-twenty persons, who pursued the other behind those of Falsehood. him by turns through all the intricacies and laby. The goddess of Falsehood was of a gigantic starinths of a country-dance, without being able to ture, and advanced some paces before the front of overtake him. her army; but as the dazzling light which flowed Observing several to be very busy at the western from Truth began to shine upon her, she faded inend of the temple, I inquired into what they were sensibly; insomuch that in a little space, she looked doing, and found there was in that quarter the rather like an huge phantom, than a real substance. great magazine of Rebusses. These were several At length, as the goddess of Truth approached things of the most different natures tied up in bun-still nearer to her, she fell away entirely, and va dles, and thrown upon one another in heaps like nished amidst the brightness of her presence; so faggots. You might behold an anchor, a night-that there did not remain the least trace or impres rail, and a hobby-horse bound up together. One sion of her figure in the place where she had been of the workmen seeing me very much surprised, seen. told me, there was an infinite deal of wit in se- As at the rising of the sun the constellations veral of those bundles, and that he would explain grow thin, and the stars go out one after another, them to me if I pleased; I thanked him for his till the whole hemisphere is extinguished; such was civility, but told him I was in very great haste at the vanishing of the goddess: and not only of the that time. As I was going out of the temple, I goddess herself, but of the whole army that at observed in one corner of it a cluster of men and tended her, which sympathized with their leader, women laughing very heartily, and diverting and shrunk into nothing, in proportion as the god themselves at a game of Crambo. I heard several dess disappeared. At the same time the whole Double Rhymes as I passed by them, which raised temple sunk, the fish betook themselves to the a great deal of mirth." streams, and the wild beasts to the woods, the Not far from these was another set of merry peo- fountains recovered their murmurs, the birds their ple engaged at a diversion, in which the whole jest voices, the trees their leaves, the flowers their was to mistake one person for another. To give scents, and the whole face of nature its true and occasion for these ludicrous mistakes, they were genuine appearance. Though I still continued divided into pairs, every pair being covered from asleep, I fancied myself as it were awakened out head to foot with the same kind of dress, though of a dream, when I saw this region of prodigies perhaps there was not the least resemblance in restored to woods and rivers, fields and meadows. their faces. By this means an old man was some- Upon the removal of that wild scene of wonders, times mistaken for a boy, a woman for a man, which had very much disturbed my imagination, I and a black-a-moor for an European, which very took a full survey of the persons of Wit and Truth; often produced great peals of laughter. These I for, indeed, it was impossible to look upon the first, guessed to be a party of Puns But being very without seeing the other at the same time. There desirous to get out of this world of magic, which was behind them a strong compact body of figures. had almost turned my brain, 1 left the temple, The genius of Heroic Poetry appeared with a and crossed over the fields that lay about it with sword in her hand, and a laurel on her head. all the speed I could make. I was not gone far, Tragedy was crowned with cypress, and covered before I heard the sound of trumpets and alarms, with robes dipped in blood. Satire had smiles in which seemed to proclaim the march of an enemy; her look, and a dagger under her garment. Rheand, as I afterwards found, was in reality what I ap- toric was known by her thunderbolt; and Comedy prehended it. There appeared at a great distance a by her mask. After several other figures, Epivery shining light, and in the midst of it, a person gram marched up in the rear, who had been posted of a most beautiful aspect; her name was Truth. there at the beginning of the expedition, that he ADDISON. C. might not revolt to the enemy, whom he was sus- on such also who have just enough to clothe them. pected to favour in his heart. I was very much An old acquaintance of mine, of ninety pounds a awed and delighted with the appearance of the year, who has naturally the vanity of being a man god of Wit': there was something so amiable, and of fashion deep at his heart, is very much put to yet so piercing in his looks, as inspired me at once it to bear the mortality of princes. He made a with love and terror As I was gazing on him, to new black suit upon the death of the king of Spain, my unspeakable joy he took a quiver of arrows he turned it for the King or Portugal, and he now from his shoulder, in order to make me a present keeps his chamber while it is scouring for the Emof it; but as I was reaching out my hand to re-peror. He is a good economist in his extravaceive it of him, I knocked it against a chair, and by gance, and makes only a fresh black button upon that means awaked. his iron-grey suit for any potentate of small terri-/ tories; he, indeed, adds his crape hat-band for a prince whose exploits he has admired in the Gazette; but whatever compliments may be made on these occasions, the true mourners are the mercers, silkmen, lacemen, and milliners. A prince of a merciful and royal disposition would reflect with great anxiety upon the prospect of his death, if he considered what numbers would be reduced to misery by that accident only. He would think it of moment enough to direct, that in the notification of his departure the honour done to him might be Tax most improper things we commit in the con- restrained to those of the household of the prince duct of our lives, we are led into by the force of to whom it should be signified. He would think a fashion. Instances might be given, in which a pre- general mourning to be in a less degree the same vailing custom makes us act against the rules of ceremony which is practised in barbarous nations, nature, law, and common-sense; but at present I of killing their slaves to attend the obsequies of shall confine my consideration to the effect it has their kings. No 64. MONDAY, MAY 14, 1711, Huc vivimus ambitiosa Paupertate omnes : で JUV. Sat. iii. 182. The face of wealth in poverty we wear. upon men's minds, by looking into our behaviour I had been wonderfully at a loss for many when it is the fashion to go into mourning. The months together, to guess at the character of a man custom of representing the grief we have for the who came now and then to our coffee-house. He loss of the dead by our habits, certainly had its ever ended a newspaper with this reflection, Well, rise from the real sorrow of such as were too much I see all the foreign princes are in good health.' distressed to take the proper care they ought of If you asked, Pray, sir, what says the Postman, their dress. By degrees it prevailed, that such as from Vienna ?' He answered, Make us thankful, had this inward oppression upon their minds, made the German princes are all well.'- What does he an apology for not joining with the rest of the say from Barcelona?-He does not speak but world in their ordinary diversions by a dress suited that the country agrees very well with the new to their condition. This, therefore, was at first as-queen.' After very much inquiry I found this sumed by such only as were under real distress; to man of universal loyalty was a wholesale dealer whom it was a relief that they had nothing about in silks and ribbons. His way is, it seems, if he them so light and gay as to be irksome to the gloom hires a weaver or workman, to have it inserted in and melancholy of their inward reflections, or his articles, that all this shall be well and truly that might misrepresent them to others. In process performed, provided no foreign potentate shall deof time this laudable distinction of the sorrowful part this life within the time above mentioned.' was lost, and mourning is now worn by heirs and it happens in all public mournings, that the many widows. You see nothing but magnificence and trades which depend upon our habits, are during solemnity in the equipage of the relict, and an air that folly either pinched with present want, or terof release from servitude in the pomp of a son rified with the apparent approach of it. All the who has lost a wealthy father. This fashion of atonement which men can make for wanton exsorrow is now become a generous part of the ce- penses (which is a sort of insulting the scarcity unremonial between princes and sovereigns, who, in der which others labour) is, that the superfluities the language of all nations, are styled brothers to of the wealthy give supplies to the necessities of each other, and put on the purple upon the death the poor; but instead of any other good arising of any potentate with whom they live in amity. from the affectation of being in courtly habits of Courtiers, and all who wish themselves such, are mourning, all order seems to be destroyed by it: immediately seized with grief from head to foot and the true honour which one court does to anupon this disaster to their prince; so that one may other on that occasion, loses its force and efficacy. know by the very buckles of a gentleman-usher When a foreign minister beholds the court of a nawhat degree of friendship any deceased monarch tion (which flourishes in riches and plenty) lay aside, maintained with the court to which he belongs. upon the loss of his master, all marks of splen. A good courtier's habit and behaviour is hierogly-dour and magnificence, though the head of such a phical on these occasions. He deals much in whis- joyful people he will conceive a greater idea of the 5 pers, and you may see he dresses according to the honour done to his master, than when he sees the best intelligence. The general affectation among men, of appear one is afraid to ask the wife of a tradesman whom generality of the people in the same habit. When ing greater than they are, makes the whole world she has lost of her family, and after some prepaun into the habit of the court. You see the lady ration endeavours to know whom she mourns for; who the day before was as various as a rainbow, how ridiculous it is to hear her explain herself, upon the time appointed for beginning to mourn, That we have lost one of the house of Austria!" as dark as a cloud. This humour does not prevail on- Princes are elevated so highly above the rest of by on those whose fortunes can support any change mankind, that it is a presumptuous distinction to their equipage, nor on those only whose incomes take a part in honours done to their memories, demand the wantonness of new appearances; but except we have authority for it, by being related L |