Coverley's letter to me, which pray comply with in favour of the Bumper Tavern. Be • kind, for you know a player's utmost pride is the approbation of the Spectator. I am your admirer, though unknown, Richard Eftcourt To Mr. Eftcourt, at his house in Covent-Gar den.' Coverley, December the 18th, 1711. Old comical One, TH HE hogfheads of neat port came fafe, and have gotten thee good reputation in thefe < parts; and I am glad to hear, that a fellow who has been laying out his money ever fince he was born, for the mere pleasure of wine, has be⚫ thought himself of joining profit and pleasure to ⚫gether. Our fexton, (poor man) having received ⚫ftrength from thy wine fince his fit of the gout, is hugely taken with it: he fays it is given by nature for the use of families, that no freward's table can be without it, that it strengthens digeftion, excludes furfeits, fevers and phyfic; which green wines of any kind cannot do. Pray get a pure fnug room, and I hope next term to help fill your Bumper with our people of the club; but you must have no bells ftirring when the Spectator comes; I forbore ringing to dinner while he was down with me in the country. Thank you for the little hams and Portugal onions; pray keep fome always by you. You know my fupper is only good Chefhire cheese, best mustard, a golden pippin, attended with a pipe of John Sly's beft. Sir Harry has ftolen all your fongs, and tells the story of the 5th of November to perfection. Your's, to ferve you, Roger de Coverley. < We have loft old John fince you were here." T Would you increafe the craft of woman-kind; Teach 'em new wiles and arts? As well you may Inftruct a fnake to bite, or wolf to prey. ON whether it be a creft, a comb, a tuft of feathers or a natural little plume, erected like a kind of pinnacle on the very top of the head. As nature on the contrary has poured out her charms in the greatest abundance upon the female part of our fpecies, fo they are very affiduous in bestowing upon themfelves the finest garnitures of art. The peacock, in all his pride, does not display half the colours that appear in the garments of a British lady, when the is dreffed either for a ball or a birth-day. CONGREVE. NE of the fathers, if I am rightly informed, has defined a woman to "an animal that delights in finery." I have already treated of the, fex in two or three papers, conformably to this definition, and have in particular obferved, that in all ages they have been more careful than the men to adorn that part of the head, which we generally call the outfide. This obfervation is fo very notorious, that when in ordinary difcourfe we fay a man has a fine head, a long head, or a good head, we exprefs ourselves metaphorically, and fpeak in relation to his understanding; whereas when we fay of a woman, fhe has a fine, a long, or a good head, we speak only in relation to her commode. It is obferved among birds, that nature has lavished all her ornaments upon the male, who very often appears in a most beautiful head-dress: 1 But to return to our female heads. The ladies have been for fome time in a kind of moulting feafon, with regard to that part of their drefs, having cast great quantities of ribbon, lace, and cambric, and in fome meafure reduced that part of the human figure to the beautiful globular form, which is natural to it. We have for a great while expected what kind of ornament would be fubftituted in the place of those antiquated commodes. But our female projectors were all the last summer so taken up with the improvement of their petticoats, that they had not time to attend to any thing elfe; but having as length fufficiently adorned their lower parts, they now begin to turn their thoughts upon the other extremity, as well remembering the old kitchen proverb, "that if you light your fire at both "ends, the middle will shift for itself." I am engaged in this fpeculation by a fight which I lately met with at the opera, As I was standing in the hinder part of the box, I took notice of a little cluster of women fitting together in the prettieft coloured hoods that I ever faw. One of them was blue, another yellow, and another philemot; the fourth was of a pink colour, and the fifth of a pale green. I looked with as much pleasure upon this little party-coloured affembly, as upon a bed of tulips, and did not know at firft whether it might not be an embaffy of Indian queens; but upon my going about into the pit, and taking them in front, I was immediately undeceived, and faw fo much beauty in every face, that I found them all to be English. Such eyes and lips, cheeks and foreheads, could be the growth of no other country. The complexion of their faces hindered me from obferving any fareafily perceive by that unfpeakable fatisfaction ther the colour of their hoods, though I could which appeared in their looks, that their own thoughts were wholly taken up on thofe pretty ornaments they wore upon their heads. I am informed that this fashion fpreads daily, infomuch that the whig and tory ladies begin already to hang out different colours, and to fhew their principles in their head drefs. Nay, if I may believe my friend Will Honeycomb, there is a certain old coquette of his acquaintance who intends to apear in a rainbow hood, like the Iris in Dryden's Virgil, not queftioning but that among fuch variety of colours the fhall have a charm for every heart. My friend Will, who very much values himself upon his great infight into gallantry, tells me, that he can already guefs at the humour a lady is in by her hood, as the courtiers of Morocco know the difpofition of their prefent emperor by the colour of the drefs which he puts on. When Melefinda wraps her head in flame colour, her heart is fet upon execution. When the covers it with purple, I would not, fays he, advife her lover to approach her; but if the appears in white, it is peace, and he may hand her out of the box with fafety. Will informs me likewife, that thefe hoods may be ufed as fignals. Why elfe, fays he, does Cor, melia always put on a black hood when her hulband is gone into the country? Such are my friend Honeycomb's dreams of galJantry. For my own part, I impute this diverfity of colours in the hoods to the diverfity of complexion in the faces of my pretty countrywomen. Ovid in his Art of Love has given fome precepts as to this particular, though I find they are different from thofe which prevail among the moderns. He recommends a red ftriped filk to the pale com2 plexion; white to the brown, and dark to the fair. On the contrary, my friend Will, who pretends to be a greater malter in this art than Ovid, tells me, that the paleft features look the most agreeable in white farfanet; that a face which is overflushed appears to advantage in the deepest fearlet, and that the darkest complexion is not a little alleviated by a black hood. In short, he is for lofing the colour of the face in that of the hood, as a fire Burns dimly, and a candle goes half out, in the light of the fun. This, fays he, your Ovid himfelf has hinted, where he treats of thefe matters, when he tells us that the blue water nymphs are dreffed in fky-coloured garments; and that Aurora, who always appears in the light of the rifing fun, is robed in faffron. Whether thefe his obfervations are juftly grounded I cannot tell: but I have often known him, as we have flood together behind the ladies, praite or difpraife the complexion of a face which he never faw, from obferving the colour of her hood, and has been very feldom out in thefe his gueffes. As I have nothing more at heart than the honour and improvement of the fair fex, I cannot conclude this paper without an exhortation to the British ladies, that they would excel the women of all other nations as much in virtue and good fenfe, as they do in beauty; which they may certainly do, if they will be as induftrious to cultivate their minds, as they are to adorn their bodies: in the mean while I thall recommend to their mot ferious confideration the faying of an old Greek poet, Γυναικὶ κόσμος ο τρόπος κ' ἐ χρυσία. ४ C N° 266. FRIDAY, JANUARY 4. Id verò eft, quod ego mihi puto palmarium, Me reperiffe, quomodo adolefcentulas Meretricium ingenia & mores poffit nofcere :}. Maturè ut cùm cognovit perpetuò oderit. Ter. Eun. A&t. Se. 4. 5. look upon it as my mafter-piece, that I have found out how a young fellow may know the difpofition and behaviour of harlots, and by early knowing come to deteft them. N hor the breach of chastity too much; but pray let her hate it for herfelf, and only pity it in others. Will Honeycomb calls thefe over-offended ladies, the outrageously virtuous. I do not defign to fall upon failures in general, with relation to the gift of chastity, but at prefent only enter upon that large field, and begin with the confideration of poor and public whores. The other evening paffing along near Covent Garden, I was jogged on the elbow as I turned into the piazza, on the right hand coming out of James-Street, by a young flim girl of about feventeen, who with a pert air afked me if I was for a pint of wine. I dọ not know but I fhould have indulged my curiofity in having fome chat with her, but that I am informed the man of the Bumper knows me; and it would have made a story for him not very agreeable to fome part of my writings, though I have in others fo frequently faid that I am wholly unconcerned in any fcene I am in, but merely as a spectator. This impediment being in my way, we flood under one of the arches by twilight; and there I could obferve as exact features as I had ever feen, the most agreeable fhape, the finest neek and bofom, in a word, the whole perfon of a woman exquifitely beautiful. She affected to allure me with a forced wantonnefs in her look and air; but I faw it checked with hunger and cold: her eyes. were wan and eager, her drefs thin and tawdry, her mien genteel and childish. This frange figure gave me much anguish of heart, and to avoid being feen with her I went away, but could not forbear giving her a crown. The poor thing fighed, curtfied, and with a bleffing expreffèd with the utmost This creature is vehemence, turned from me. what they call "newly come upon the town," but who, I fuppofe, falling into cruel hands, was left in the first month from her difhonour, and exposed to pafs through the hands and difcipline of one of thofe hags of hell whom we call bawds. But left thould grow too fuddenly grave on this fubject, and be myfelf outrageously good, I fhall turn to a scene in one of Fletcher's plays, where this character is drawn, and the economy of whoredom most admirably defcribed. The pailage I would point to is in the third fcene of the fecond Act of the Humorous Lieutenant. Leucippe, who is agent for the king's luft, and bawds at the fame time for the whole court, is very pleafantly introduced, reading her minutes as a perfon of bufinefs, with two maids her under-fecretaries, taking inftructions at a table before her. Her women, both thofe under her prefent tutelage, and thofe which the is laying wait for, are alphabetically fet down in her book; and fhe is looking over the letter C, in a muttering voice, as if between foliloquy and fpeaking out, the fays, "Her maidenhead will yield me; let me fee now; "She is not fifteen they fay; for her complex❝ion "Cloe, Cloe, Cloe, here I have her, Cloe, the daughter of a country gentleman; "Her age upon fifteen. Now her complexion. A lovely brown; here 'tis ; eyes black and roll ing, "The body neatly built; the ftrikes a lute well, vice or wickednefs which people fall into from indulgence to defires which are natural to all, ought to place them below the compaffion of the virtuous part of the world; which indeed often makes me a little apt to fufpect the fincerity of their virtue, who are too warmly provoked at other people's perfonal fins. The unlawful commerce of the fexes is of all other the hardeft to avoid; and yet there is no one which you fhall hear the rigider part of womankind fpeak of with fo little mercy. Or three hundred and fifty crowns: 'twill bear it It is very certain that a modeft woman cannot ab "Sings moft enticingly: these helps confider'd, "Her maidenhead will amount to fome three hundred, handfomely, Her father's poor, fome little hare deducted, Thefe creatures are very well inftructed in the It must not be thought a digreffion from my intended speculation, to talk of bawds in a difcourfe upon wenches; for a woman of the town is not thoroughly and properly fuch, without having gone through the education of one of these houses. But the compaffionate cafe of very many is, that they are taken into fuch hands without any the leaft 'fufpicion, previous temptation, or admonition to what place they are going. The last week I went to an inn in the city to inquire for fome provifions which were fent by a waggon out of the country; and as I waited in one of the boxes till the chamberlain had looked over his parcel, I heard an old and a young voice repeating the questions and refponfes of the church-catechifm. I thought it no breach of good-manners to peep at a crevice, and look in at people fo well employed; but who fhould I fee there but the most artful procurefs in the town, examining a moft beautiful country-girl, who had come up in the fame waggon with my things, "Whether fhe was well educated, could forbear playing the wanton with fervants and "idle fellows, of which this town," fays the, "is too full:" at the fame time, "whether the knew enough of breeding, as that if a 'fquire or gentleman, or one that was her betters, thould "give her a civil falute, the thould curtefy and be humble nevertheless." Her innocent forfooth's, yes's, and't please you's, and the would do her endeavour, moved the good old lady to take her out of the hands of a country bumkin her brother, and hire her for her own maid. I ftaid till I faw them all marched out to take coach; the brother loaded with a great cheefe, he prevailed upon her to take for her civilities to his fifter. This poor creature's fate is not far off that of her's whom I fpoke of above, and it is not to be doubted, but after the has been long enough a prey to luft, fhe will be delivered over to famine. The ironical commendation of the industry and charity of these antiquated ladies, thefe directors of fin, after they can no longer commit it, makes up the beauty of the inimitable dedication to the Plain-Dealer, and is a mafterpiece of raillery on this vice. But to understand all the purlieus of this game the better, and to illuftrate this fubject in future difcourfes, I muft ven-` ture myself, with my friend Will, into the haunts of beauty and gallantry; from pampered vice in the habitations of the wealthy, to diftreffed indigent wickedness expelled the harbours of the brothel. No 267. SATURDAY, JANUARY 5. Propert. El. 34. lib. 2. ver. 65 HERE is nothing in nature so irksome as ge THE neral difcourfes, efpecially when they turn chiefly upon words. For this reafon I fhall wave the difcuffion of that point which was started some years fince, whether Milton's Paradife Loft may be called an heroic poem? Those who will not give it that title, may call it, if they please, a divine poem. It will be fufficient to its perfection, if it has in it all the beauties of the highest kind of poetry; and as for those who alledge it is not an heroic poem, they advance no more to the diminution of it, than if they fhould fay Adam is not Æneas nor Eve Helen. I fhall therefore examine it by the rules of epic poetry, and fee whether it falls fhort of the Iliad or neid, in the beauties which are effential to that kind of writing. The first thing to be confidered in an epic poem, is the fable, which is perfect or imperfect, according as the action which it relates is more or less fo. This action fhould have three qualifications in it. First, it should be but one action. Secondly, it fhould be an entire action; and, thirdly, it should be a great action. To confider the action of the Iliad, Æneid, and Paradife Loft, in thefe three feveral lights. Homer to preferve the unity of his action haftens into the midft of things, as Horace has obferved: had he gone up to Leda's egg, or begun much later even at the rape of Helen, or the investing of Troy, it is manifeft that the ftory of the poem would have been a series of feveral actions. He therefore opens his poem with the difcord of his princes, and artfully interweaves, in the feveral fucceeding parts of it, an account of every thing material which relates to them, and had paffed before that fatal diffention. After the fame manner Æneas makes his first appearance in the Tyrrhene feas, and within fight of Italy, becaufe the action propofed to be celebrated was that of his fettling himself in the Latium. But because it was neceffary for the reader to know what happened to him in the taking of Troy, and in the preceding parts of his voyage, Virgil makes his hero relate it by way of epifode in the fecond and third books of the Æneid. The contents of both which books come before thofe of the first book in the thread of the story, though for preferving of this unity of action they follow them in the difpofition of the poem. Milton, in imitation of these two great poets, opens his Paradife Loft, with an infernal council plotting the fall of man, which is the action he propofed to celebrate; and as for those great actions, which preceded in point of time, the battle of the angels, and the creation of the world, which would have intirely deftroyed the unity of his principal action, had he related them in the fame order they happened, he caft them into the fifth, fixth, and feventh books, by way of epifode to this noble poem. Ariftotle himself allows, that Homer has nothing to boast of as to the unity of his fable, though at the fame time that great critic and philofopher endeavours to palliate this imperfection in the Greek poet by imputing it in fome measure to the very nature of an epic poem. Some have been Tof opinion, that the Æneid alfo labours in this particular, and has episodes which may be looked upon as excrefcenfes rather than as parts of the action. On the contrary, the poem, which we have now under our confideration, hath no other epifodes than fuch as naturally arife from the fubject, and yet is filled with fuch a multitude of aftonishing incidents, that it gives us at the fame time a pleasure of the greatest variety, and of the greatest fimplicity; uniform in its nature, though diverfified in the execution. I muft obferve alfo, that as Virgil, in the poem which was defigned to celebrate the original of the Roman empire, has defcribed the birth of its great rival, the Carthaginian commonwealth: Milton, with the like art in his poem on the fall of man, has related the fall of thofe angels who are his profeffed enemies. Befides the many other beauties in fuch an epifode, its runing parallel with the great action of the poem hinders it from breaking the unity fo much as another epifode would have done, that had not fo great an affinity with the principal fubject. In fhort, this is the fame kind of beauty which the critics admire in the Spanish Friar, or the Double Discovery, where the two different plots look like counterparts and copies of one another. The fecond qualification required in the action of an epic poem, is, that it fhould be an entire action: an action is entire when it is complete in all its parts; or, as Ariftotle defcribes it, when it confifts of a beginning, a middle, and an end. No thing thould go before it, be intermixed with it, or follow after it, that is not related to it. As on the contrary, no fingle ftep fhould be omitted in that juft and regulat procefs which it must be fuppofed to take from its original to its confummation. Thus we fee the anger of Achilles in its birth, its continuance and effects; and Æneas's fettlement in Italy, carried on through all the oppofitions in his way to it both by fea and land. The action in Milton excels, I think, both the former in this particular: we fee it contrived in hell, executed upon earth, and punished by heaven. The parts of it are told in the most diftinct manner, and grow out of one another in the most natural method. cies. The third qualification of an epic poem is its greatnefs. The anger of Achilles was of fuch confequence, that it embroiled the kings of Greece, destroyed the heroes of Troy, and engaged all the gods in factions. Eneas's fettlement in Italy produced the Cæfars, and gave birth to the Roman empire. Milton's fubject was ftill greater than either of the former; it does not determine the fate of fingle perfons or nations, but of a whole fpeThe united powers of hell are joined together for the deftruction of mankind, which they cffected in part, and would have completed, had not Omnipotence itfelf interpofed. The principal actors are man in his greatest perfection, and woman in her higheft beauty. Their enemies are the fallen angels the Messiah their friend, and the Almighty their protector. In short, every thing that is great in the whole circle of being, whether within the verge of nature, or out of it, has a proper part aligned it in this noble poem. In poetry, as in architecture, not only the whole, but the principal members, and every part of them, fhould be great. I will not prefume to fay, that the book of games in the Eneid, or that in the Iliad are not of this nature, nor to reprehend Virgil's fimile of the top, and many other of the fame kind in the Iliad, as liable to any cenfure in this particular; but I think we may fay, without derogating from thofe wonderful performances, that there is an unquestionable magnificence in every part of Paradife Loft, and indeed a much greater than could have been formed upon any pagan fyftem. But Ariftotle, by the greatnefs of the action, does not only mean that it should be great in its nature, but alfo in its duration, or in other words that it should have a due length in it, as well as what we properly call greatnefs. The juft meafure of this kind of magnitude, he explains by the following fimilitude. An animal, no bigger than a mite, cannot appear perfect to the eye, because the fight takes it in at once, and has only a confufed idea of the whole, and not a diftinct idea of all its parts; if on the contrary you fhould suppose an animal of ten thoufand furlongs in length, the eye would be fo filled with a fingle part of it, that it could not give the mind an idea of the whole. What these animals are to the eye, a very short or a very long action would be to the memory. The first would be, as it were, loft and swallowed up by it, and the other difficult to be contained in it. Homer and Virgil have fhewn their principal art in this particular: the action of the Iliad, and that of the Eneid, were in themfelves exceeding thort, but are fo beautifully extended and diverfified by the invention of epifodes, and the machinery of gods, with the like poetical ornaments, that they make up an agreeable story, fufficient to employ the memory without overcharging it. Milton's action is enriched with fuch a variety of circumstances, that I have taken as much pleasure in reading the contents of his books, as in the best invented story I ever met with. It is poffible, that the traditions, on which the Iliad and neid were built, had more circumstances in them, than the hiftory of the Fall of Man, as it is related in fcripture. Befides, it was eafier for Homer and Virgil to dafh the truth with fiction, as they were in no danger of offending the religion of their country by it. But as for Milton, he had not only a very few circumftances upon which to raife his poem, but was alfo obliged to proceed with the greateft caution in every thing that he added out of his own invention. And, indeed, notwithstanding all the reftraints he was under, he has filled his ftory with fo many furprising incidents, which bear so close an analogy with what is delivered in holy writ, that it is capable of pleafing the moft delicate reader, without giving offence to the moft fcrupulous. The modern critics have collected from feveral hints in the Iliad and neid the fpace of time, which is taken up by the action of each of those poems; but as a great part of Milton's story was tranfacted in regions that lie out of the reach of the fun and the fphere of the day, it is impoffible to gratify the reader with fuch a calculation, which indeed would be more curious than instructive; none of the critics, either ancient or modern, having laid down, rules to circumfcribe the action of an epic poem with any determined number of years, days, or hours. This piece of criticifin on Milton's Paradife Loft fhall be carried on in the following Saturday's papers. • Mr. Spectator, A 'tue, and makes her duty her continual pleasure ? No, men rather feek for money as the complement of all their defires; and regardless of what kind of wives they take, they think riches will be a minister to all kind of pleasures, and ena'ble them to keep miftreffes, horfes, hounds, to drink, feaft, and game with their companions, pay their debts contracted by former extravagancies, or fome fuch vile and unworthy end; and indulge themselves in pleasures which are a thame and scandal to human nature. Now as for the women; how few of them are there who place the happiness of their marriage in the having a wife and virtuous friend? One who will be faithful and just to all, and conftant and loving to them? who with care and diligence will look after and improve the estate, and with• out grudging allow whatever is prudent and convenient? rather, how few are there who do not place their happiness in out-thining others in 6 pomp and thow? and that do not think within themselves when they have married such a rich 'pear fo fine in their equipage, fo adorned in their 'perfons, or fo magnificent in their furniture as themselves? Thus their heads are filled with vain ideas; and I heartily with I could fay that equipage and thow were not the chief good of so many women as I fear it is. S you are Spectator-General, I apply myfelf to you in the following cafe, viz. I do not wear a fword, but I often divert myself at the theatre, where I frequently fee a set of fel-person, that none of their acquaintance fhall aplows pull plain people, by way of humour and frolic, by the nofe, upon frivolous or no occa• fions. A friend of mine the other night applauded what a graceful exit Mr. Wilks made, one of those nose-wringers overhearing him, pinched him by the nofe. I was in the pit the other night, when it was very much crowded, a gentleman leaning upon me, and very heavily, I very civilly requested him to remove his hand; for which he pulled me by the nofe. I would " not refent it in fo public a place, because I was · unwilling to create a disturbance; but have fince reflected upon it as a thing that is unmanly and difingenuous, renders the nofe-puller odious, and makes the perfon pulled by the nofe look little and contemptible. This grievance I humbly requeft you will endeavour to redress. I am your admirer, &c. 'James Eafy.' • Mr. Spectator, Y OUR difcourfe of the 29th of December on love and marriage is of fo ufeful a kind, that I cannot forbear adding my thoughts to your's on that fubject. Methinks it is a miffortune, that the marriage-ftate, which in its own nature is adapted to give us the completeft happiness this life is capable of, thould be fo un< comfortable a one to fo many as it daily proves. But the mischief generally proceeds from the unwife choice people make for themselves, and an expectation of happiness from things not capable of giving it. Nothing but the good qualities of the perfon beloved can be a foundation for · a love of judgment and difcretion; and whoever expect happiness from any thing but virtue, wifdom, good-humour, and a fimilitude of manners, ⚫ will find themselves widely mistaken. But how few are there who feek after thefe things, and do not rather make riches their chief if not their only aim? How rare is it for a man, when he engages himself in the thoughts of marriage, to place his hopes of having in fuch a woman' a conftant, agreeable companion? one who will divide his cares and double his joys? who will manage that fhare of his eftate he entrusts to her conduct with prudence and frugality, govern his houfe with economy and difcretion, and be an ornament to himself and family? Where fhall we find the man who looks out for one who places her chief happiness in the practice of vir After this manner do both fexes deceive themfelves, and bring reflexions and difgrace upon the moft happy and most honourable ftate of life; whereas if they would but correct their depraved tafte, moderate their ambition, and place their happiness upon proper objects, we thould not find felicity in the marriage-ftate fuch a wonder in the world as it now is. Sir, if you think thefe thoughts worth inferting among your own, be pleaied to give them a better drefs, and let them pafs abroad; and you • will oblige • Your admirer, • Mr. Spectator, A 'A. B.' Si was this day walking in the street, there happened to pafs by on the other fide of the way a beauty, whofe charms were fo attracting, that it drew my eyes wholly on that fide, infomuch that I neglected my own way, and chanced to run my nofe directly againft a poft; which the lady no fooner perceived, buɛ fell out into a fit of laughter, though at the saine time the was fenfible that herfelf was the cause of my misfortune, which in my opinion was the greater aggravation of her crime. I being buty wiping off the blood which trickled down my face, had not time to acquaint her with her barbarity as alfo with my refolution, viz. never to look out of my way for one of her fex more: therefore, that your humble fervant may be revenged, he defires you to infert this in one of your next papers, which he hopes will be a warn ing to all the rest of the women-gazers, as well as to poor • Anthony Gape.' Defire to know in your next, if the merry game of the Parfon has loft his cloke," is not mightily in vogue amongst the fine ladies this Christmas; becaufe I fee they wear hoods of all colours, which I fuppofe is for that purpofe; if it is, and you think it proper, I will carry fome of X x 2 thofe |