then not a word of them till they revived again in eighty-eight.* Nor is it so very long since Richard the Third set up half the backs of the nation; and high shoulders as well as high noses, were the top of the fashion. But to come to ourselves, gentlemen, though I find by my quinquennial observations, that we shall never get ladies enough to make a party in our own country, yet might we meet with better success among some of our allies. And what think you if our board sat for a Dutch piece? Truly I am of opinion that as odd as we appear in flesh and blood, we should be no strange things in metzo-tinto. But this project may rest till our number is complete; and this being our election night, give me leave to propose Mr. SPECTATOR. You see his inclinations, and perhaps we may not have his fellow.' "I found most of them (as is usual in all such cases) were prepared; but one of the seniors (whom by the bye Mr. President had taken all this pains to bring over) sat still, and cocking his ehin, which seemed only to be levelled at his nose, very gravely declared, 'That in case he had had sufficient knowledge of you, no man should have been more willing to have served you; but that he, for his part, had always had regard to his own conscience, as well as other people's merit; and he did not know but that you might be a handsome fellow; for as for your own certificate, it was every body's business to speak for themselves.' Mr. President immediately retorted, A handsome fellow! why he is a wit, Sir, and you know the proverb;' and to ease the old gentleman of his scruples, cried, "That for matter of merit it was all one, you might wear a mask. This threw him into a pause, and he looked desirous of three days to consider on it; but Mr. President improved the thought, and followed him up with an old story, 'That wits were privileged to wear what masks they pleased in all ages; and that a vizard had been the constant crown of their labours, which was generally presented them by the hand of some satyr, and sometimes of Apollo himself:' for the truth of which he appealed to the frontispiece of several books, and particularly to the English Juvenal, to which he referred him; and only added, That such authors were the Larvati, or Larva donati of the ancients. This cleared up all, and in the conclusion you were those probationer; and Mr. President put round your health as such, protesting, That though indeed he talked of a vizard, he did not believe all the while you had any more occasion for it than the cat-a-mountain;' so that all you have to do now is to * Dryden, we are told, in the plates to his translation of Virgil, had Eneas always represented with a Roman nose, in compliment to King William. with you, I can see nothing shocking in it; for though she not a face like a John-Apple, yet as a late friend of mine, wh sixty-five ventured on a lass of fifteen, very frequently, in th maining five years of his life, gave me to understand, that a as he then seemed, when they were first married, he and spouse could make but fourscore; so may Madam Hecatissa justly allege hereafter, that as long-visaged as she may the thought, upon their wedding-day Mr. SPECTATOR and she had half an ell of face betwixt them; and this my worthy predece Mr. Serjeant Chin, always maintained to be no more than true oval proportion between man and wife. But as this ma a new thing to you, who have hitherto had no expectations women, I shall allow you what time you think fit to consider o not without some hope of seeing at last your thoughts here subjoined to mine, and which is an honour much desired by, Sir, "Your assured friend, and most humble servant, The following letter has not much in it; but, as it is writte my own praise, I cannot for my heart suppress it :— "SIR, "You proposed in your SPECTATOR of last Tuesday,* Hobbes's hypothesis for solving that very odd phenomeno laughter. You have made the hypothesis valuable by espou it yourself; for had it continued Mr. Hobbes's, nobody w have minded it. Now here this perplexed case arises. A cer company laughed very heartily upon the reading of that paper of yours; and the truth on it is, he must be a man of than ordinary constancy that could stand out against so m comedy, and not do as we did. Now there are few men in world so far lost to all good sense, as to look upon you to be a in a state of folly inferior to himself.' Pray then how do justify your hypothesis of laughter? "Your most humble, "Thursday, the 26th of the month of fools." "SIR, "Q. In answer to your letter, I must desire you to recollect y self; and you will find, that when you did me the honour to b merry over my paper, you laughed at the idiot, the Ger • See No. 47. tia was listened to with partiality, and approbation sat in the countenances of those she conversed with, before she communieated what she had to say. These causes have produced suitable effects, and Lætitia is as insipid a companion as Daphne is an agreeable one. Lætitia, confident of favour, has studied no arts to please; Daphne, despairing of any inclination towards her person, has depended only on her merit. Lætitia has always something in her air that is sullen, grave, and disconsolate. Daphne has a countenance that appears cheerful, open, and unconcerned. A young gentleman saw Lætitia this winter at a play, and became ber captive. His fortune was such, that he wanted very little introduction to speak his sentiments to her father. The lover was admitted with the utmost freedom into the family, where a constrained behaviour, severe looks, and distant civilities, were the highest favours he could obtain of Lætitia; while Daphne used him with the good humour, familiarity, and innocence of a sister; insomuch that he would often say to her, "Dear Daphne, wert thou but as handsome as Lætitia..." She received such language with that ingenuous and pleasing mirth, which is natural to a woman without design. He still sighed in vain for Lætitia, but found certain relief in the agreeable conversation of Daphne. At length, heartily tired with the haughty impertinence of Lætitia, and charmed with the repeated instances of good humour he had observed in Daphne, he one day told the latter that he had some thing to say to her he hoped she would be pleased with... “Faith, Daphne," continued he, "I am in love with thee, and despise thy sister sincerely." The manner of his declaring himself gave his mistress occasion for a very hearty laughter. ... "Nay," says he, "I knew you would laugh at me, but I will ask your father." He did so; the father received his intelligence with no less joy than surprise, and was very glad he had now no care left but for his beauty, which he thought he could carry to market at his leisure. I do not know anything that has pleased me so much a great while, as this conquest of my friend Daphne's. All her acquaintance congratulated her upon her chance-medley, and laugh at that premeditating murderer her sister. As it is an argument of a light mind to think the worse of ourselves for the imperfections of our person, it is equally below us to value ourselves upon the advantages of them. The female world seem to be almost incorrigibly gone astray in this particular; for which reason I shall recommend the following extract out of a friend's letter to the professed beauties, who are a people almost as unsufferable as the professed wits. *Hughes. See another letter of his on the same subject. No. 53. See also No. 66. "MONSIEUR ST. EVREMOND has concluded one of his essays with affirming, that the last sighs of a handsome woman are not so much for the loss of her life as of her beauty. Perhaps this raillery is pursued too far, yet it is turned upon a very obvious remark, that woman's strongest passion is for her own beauty, and that she values it as her favourite distinction. From hence it is that all arts, which pretend to improve it or preserve it, meet with so general a reception among the sex. To say nothing of many false helps and contraband wares of beauty, which are daily vended in this great mart, there is not a maiden gentlewoman of a good family in any county in South Britain, who has not heard of the virtues of May-dew, or is unfurnished with some receipt or other in favour of her complexion; and I have known a physician of learning and sense, after eight years' study in the university, and a course of travels into most countries of Europe, owe the first raising of his fortunes to a cosmetic wash. "This has given me occasion to consider how so universal a dis position in womankind, which springs from a laudable motive, the desire of pleasing, and proceeds upon an opinion, not altoge ther groundless, that nature may be helped by art, may be turned to their advantage. And, methinks, it would be an acceptable ser vice to take them out of the hands of quacks and pretenders, and to prevent their imposing upon themselves, by discovering to them the true secret and art of improving beauty. ་ "In order to this, before I touch upon it directly, it will be necessary to lay down a few preliminary maxims, viz. : "That no woman can be handsome by the force of features alone, any more than she can be witty only by the help of speech. That pride destroys all symmetry and grace, and affectation is a more terrible enemy to fine faces than the small-pox. "That no woman is capable of being beautiful, who is not incapable of being false. And that what would be odious in a friend, is deformity in a mistress. "From these few principles, thus laid down, it will be easy to prove, that the true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole person by the proper ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. By this help alone it is, that those who are the favourite work of nature, or as Mr. Dryden expresses it, the porcelain clay of human kind, become animated, and are in a capacity of exerting their charms: and those who seem to be neglected by her, like models wrought in haste, are capable in a great measure of finishing what she has left imperfect. "It is, methinks, a low and degrading idea of that sex, which was created to refine the joys and soften the cares of humanity, by the most agreeable participation, to consider them merely as objects of sight. This is abridging them of their natural extent of power, to put them on a level with their pictures at Kneller's. How much nobler is the contemplation of beauty heightened by virtue, and commanding our esteem and love, while it draws our observation? How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, when compared with the real loveliness of Sophronia's innocence, piety, good humour, and truth; virtues which add a new softness to her sex, and even beautify her beauty! That agreeableness which must otherwise have appeared no longer in the modest virgin, is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvass may entertain the eye, but not affect the heart, and she who takes no care to add to the natural graces of her person any excellent qualities, may be allowed still to amuse as a picture, but not to triumph as a beauty. "When Adam is introduced by Milton, describing Eve in Paradise, and relating to the angel the impressions he felt upon seeing her at her first creation, he does not represent her like a Grecian Venus, by her shape or features, but by the lustre of her mind which shone in them, and gave them their power of charming. 'Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, "Without this irradiating power, the proudest fair one ought to know, whatever her glass may tell her to the contrary, that her most perfect features are uninformed and dead. "I cannot better close this moral, than by a short epitaph written by Ben Jonson, with a spirit which nothing could inspire but such an object as I have been describing.— |