Page images
PDF
EPUB

P

I have, in former papers, endeavoured to expole this party-rage in women, as it only serves to ag- No 82 MONDAY, JUNE 4. gravate the hatreds and animosities that reign among men, and in a great measure deprives the Caput dominâ venale sub bafta. fair sex of those peculiar charms with which na

Juv. Sat. 3. V. 336 ture has endowed them.

His fortunes ruin'd, and himself a Nave. When the Roman's and Sabines were at war, and just upon the point of giving battle, the wo

ASSING under Ludgate the other day, I men, who were allied to both of them, interposed

heard a voice bawling for charity, which I with so many tears and intreaties, that they pre- thought I had somewhere heard before. Coming vented the mutual s'aughter which threatened near to the grate, the prisoner called me by my both parties, and united them together in a firm name, and desired I would throw something into and la sting peace.

the box : I was out of countenance for him, and I would recommend this noble example to our

did as he bid me, by putting in half a crown. I British ladies, at a time when their country is torn went away, reflecting upon the strange constitu. with so many unnatural divisions, that if they tion of some men, and how meanly they behave continue, it will be a misfortune to be born in it. themselves in all sorts of conditions. The person The Greeks thought it so improper for women to

who begged of me is now, as I take it, fifty: I interest themselves in competitions and conten

was well acquainted with him until about the age tions, that for this reason among others, they of twenty-five; at which time a good estate fell forbad them, under pain of death, to be present to him by the death of a relation. Upon coming at the Olympic games, notwithstanding these were to this unexpected good fortune, he ran into all the public diversions of all Greece.

the extravagancies imaginable; was frequently in As our English women excel those of all other drunken disputes, broke drawers heads, talked nations in beauty, they thould endeavour to out

and fwore loud, was unmannerly to those above fhine them in all other accomplishments proper him, and infolent to those below him. I could not to the sex, and to distinguish themselves as ten- but remark, that it was the same baseness of spirit der mothers, and faithful wives, rather than as fu. which worked in his behaviour in both fortunes: rious partisans. Female virtues are of a domestic the same little mind was insolent in riches, and turn, The family is the proper province for pri- shameless in poverty. This accident made me vate women to line in. If they must be thew- mufe upon the circumstance of being in debt in ing their zeal for the public, let it not be against general, and solve in my mind what tempers were those who are perhaps of the same family, or at most apt to fall into this error of life, as well as least of the same religion or nation, but against the misfortune it must needs be to languish under those who are the open, professed, undoubted such preffures. As for myself, my natural aver: enemies of their faith, liberty and country. When fion to that sort of conversation, which makes a. the Romans were pressed with a foreign enemy, figure with the generality of mankind, exempts the ladies voluntarily contributed all their rings me from any temptations to expence; and all my and jewels to asist the government under a pub- business lies within a very narrow compass, which fic exigence, which appeared fo laudable an action is only to give an honest man, who takes care of in the eyes of their countrymen, that from thence. my estate, proper vouchers for his quarterly payforth it was permitted by a law to pronouncements to me, and observe what linen my laun. public orations at the funeral of a woman in praise dress brings and takes away with her once a week: of the deceased person, which until that time was my steward brings his receipt ready for my sign. peculiar to men. Would our English ladies, in- ing; and I have a pretty implement with the re. stead of sticking on a patch against those of their spective names of Thirts, cravats, handkerchiefs own country, shew themselves so truly public fpi- and stockings, with proper numbers to know how Tited, as to facrifice every one her necklace against to reckon with my laundress. This being almost the common enemy, what decrees ought not to

all the business I have in the world for the care be made in favour of them?

of my own affairs, I am at full leisure to observe Since I am recollecting upon this subject such upon what others do, with relation to their equia paisages as occur to my memory out of ancient au page and economy. thors, I cannot omit a sentence in the celebrated When I walk the street, and observe the hurry funeral oration of Pericles, which he made in about me in this town, honour of those brave Athenians that were Nain « Where with like haste, thro' diff'rent ways in a fight with the Lacedemonians. After hav

they run; ing addressed himself to the several ranks and or

" Some to undo, and some to be undone." ders of his countrymen, and shewn them how they should behave themselves in the public cause, I say, when I behold this vast variety of persons he turns to the female part of his audience; and humours, with the pains they both take for “ And as for you,” says he, “I hall advise you the accomplishment of the ends mentioned in the 6 in very few words: aspire only to those virtues above verses of Denham, I cannot much wonder " that are peculiar to your sex; follow your na

at the endeavour after gain, but am extremely « tural modesty, and think it your greatest com

astonished that men can be so insensible of the “mendation, not to be talked of one way or danger of running into debt. One would think it 6 other,"?

impossible a man who is given to contract debts Could know, that his creditor has, from that mo

ment in which he tranfgreffes payment, so much as that demand comes to in his debtor's honour, liberty, and fortune. One would think he did not know, that his creditor can say the worst thing imaginable on him, to wit, “that he is unjust,

without

<

Y

W my diver horns without doors

, I frequently

without defamation; and can seize his person, his life been a sacrifice to others, without ever rewithout being guilty of an assault. Yet such is the ceiving thanks, or doing one good a&tion. loose and abandoned turn of some mens minds, I will end this discourse with a speech which I that they can live under these constant apprehen- heard Jack make to one of his creditors, of whom fions, and still go on to increase the cause of them. he.deserved gentler usage, after lying a whole Can there be a more low and servile condition, night in custody at his suit. than to be ashamed, or afraid to see any one man breathing? Yet he that is much in debt, is in that

ESIR, condition with relation to twenty different peo

OUR ingratitude for the many kindnesses ple. There are indeed circumstances, wherein men

I have done

you,

Thall not make me unof honeft natures may become liable to debts, by thankful for the good you have done me, in some unadvised behaviour in any great point of 6 letting me see there is such a man as you in the their life, or mortgaging a man's honesty as a se < world. I am obliged to you for the diffidence curity for that of another, and the like; but these • I shall have all the rest of my life: “ I Mall instances are so particular and circumstantiated, hereafter trust no man so far as to be in his that they cannot come within general considera debt."

R tions : for one such case as one of these, there are ten, where a man, to keep up a farce of retinue and grandeur within his own house, shall fhrink at No 83. TUESDAY, JUNE 5. the expectation of surly demands at his doors, The debtor is the creditor's criminal, and all the - Animum picturà pascit inani. officers of power and state, whom we behold make

Virg. Æn. I. V.468. so great a figure, are no other than so many pere And with an empty picture feeds his mind. sons in authority to make good his charge against

DRÝDEN. him. Human fociety depends upon his having the vengeance law allots him; and the debtor owes

HEN the weather hinders me from taking his liberty to his neighbour, as much as the murderer does his life to his prince.

make a little party with two or three select friends, Our gentry are, generally speaking, in debts to visit any thing curious that may be seen under and many families have put it into a kind of me covert. My principal entertainments of this nathod of being so from generation to generation. ture are pictures, insomuch that when I have The father mortages when his son is very young; found the weather set in to be very bad, I have and the boy is to marry as soon as he is at age to taken a whole day's journey to see a gallery that redeem it, and find portions for his fifters. This is furnished by the hands of great masters. By forsooth, is no great inconvenience to him; for this means, when the heavens are filled with he may wench, keep a public table or feed dogs clouds, when the earth swims in rain, and all nalike a worthy English gentleman, until he has oute ture wears a lowring countenance, I withdraw run half his estate, and leave the same incum- myself from these uncomfortable scenes into the brance upon his first-born, and so on, until one visionary worlds of art; where I meet with siman of more vigour than ordinary goes quite ning landscapes, gilded triumphs, beautiful faces, through the estate, or some man of sense comes and all those other objects that fill the mind with into it, and scorns to have an estate in partnership, gay ideas, and disperse that gloominess which that is to say, liable to the demand or insult of is apt to hang upon it in those dark disconfolate any man living. There is my friend Sir Andrew, seasons. though for many years a great and general trader, I was some weeks ago in a course of these was never the defendant in a law-suit, in all the diversions ; which had taken such an intire perplexity of business, and the iniquity of man- poflession of my imagination, that they formed kind at present: no one had any colour for the in it a short morning's dream, which I shall least complaint against his dealings with him. communicate to my reader, ratlier as the first This is certainly as uncommon, and in its pro- sketch and outlines of a vision, than as a finished portion as laudable in a citizen, as it is in a ge- piece. neral never to have suffered a disadvantage in I dreamed that I was admitted into a long spafight, .How different from this gentleman is Jack cious gallery, which had one side covered with Truepenny, who has been an old acquaintance of pieces of all the famous painters who are now Sir Andrew and myself from boys, but could ne- living, and the other, with the works of the greatver learn' our caution. Jack has a whorish unre est masters that are dead. fifted good-nature, which makes him incapable On the side of the living, I saw several persons of having a property in any thing. His fortune, busy in drawing, colouring, and designing; on his reputation, his time and his capacity, are at the side of the dead painters, I could not discoany man's service that comes first. When he was ver more than one person at work, who was exat school, he was whipped thrice a week for faults ceeding flow in his motions, and wonderfully nice he took upon him to excuse others; since he came in his touches. into the business of the world, he has been ar I was resolved to examine the several artists refted twice or thrice a year for debts he had no that stood before me, and accordingly applied mything to do with, but as furety for others; and I felf to the side of the living. The first I observed remember when a friend of his had suffered in at work in this part of the gallery was Vanity, the vice of the town, all the physic his friend took with his hair tied behind him in a ribbon, and was conveyed to him by Jack, and inscribed, “A dressed like a Frenchman. All the faces he drew « bolus or an electuary for Mr. Trueperny.” were very rernarkable for their smiles, and a cerJack had a good estate left him, which came to tain smirking air which he bestowed indifferently nothing; because he believed all who pretended on every age and degree of either sex. The tous to demands upon it. This easiness and credulity jours gai appeared even in his judges, bishops, destroy all the other merit he has; and he has all, and privy counsellors ; in a word all his men were

P2

Petits

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

He had likewise hung a great part of the wall with the private actions of Pharamond are set

Petits Maitres, and all his women Coquettes, The one another only in the variety of their shapes, drapery of his figures was extremely well suited complexions, and clothes; fo that they looked to his faces, and was made up of all the glaring like different nations of the same species, colours that could be mixed together; every part Observing an old man, who was the same perof the drefs was in a futter, and endeavoured to son I before mentioned, as the only artist that diftinguish itself above the rest.

was at work on this side of the gallery, creeping On the left hand of Vanity stood a laborious up and down from one picture to another, and reworkman, who I found was his humble admirer, touching all the fine pieces that stood before me, and copied after him. He was dressed like a Ger. I could not but be very attentive to all his mo, man, and had a very hard name that sounded ţions. I found his pencil was so very light, that something like Stupidity.

it worked imperceptibly, and after a thousand The third artist that I looked over was Fantas touches, scarce produced any visible effect in the que, dressed like a Venetian scaramouch. He had picture on which he was employed. However, as an excellent hand at a Chimera, and dealt very he busied himself incessantly, and repeated touch much in distortions and grimaces. He would after touch without rest or intermission, he wore sometimes affright himself with the phantoms off insensibly every little disagreeable gloss that that flowed from his pencil. In short the most hung upon a figure. He also added such a beau. elaborate of his pieces was at best but a terri- tiful brown to the sades, and mellowness to the fying dream ; and one could say nothing more colours, that he made every picture appear more of his finest figures, than that they were agreea perfect than when it came fresh from the master's ble monsters.

pencil. I could not forbear looking upon the The fourth person I examined, was very re

face of this ancient workman, and immediately, markable for his hafty hand, which left his pic- by the long lock of hair upon his forehead, dira tures so unfinished, that the beauty in the picture, covered him to be Time. which was designed to continue as a monument Whether it were because the thread of my of it to posterity, faded sooner than in the person dream was at an end I cannot tell, but upon my after whom it was drawn. He made so much taking a survey of this imaginary old man, my haste to dispatch his business, that he neither gave Deep left me.

с himself time to clean his pencils, nor mix his colours. The name of this expeditious workman was Avarice.

N° 84. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6. Not far from this artist I saw another of a quite different nature, who was dressed in the habit of

Quis talia fando a Dutchman, and known by the name of Industry. Myrmidonum, Dolopumve, aut duri miles Ululei, His figures were wonderfullylaboured: if he drew Temperet á lachrymis ? VIRG. ÆN. 2 v. 6 the portraiture of a man, he did not omit a single who can such woes relate, without a tear, hair in his face; if the figure of a ship, there was not a rope among the tackle that escaped him. As stern Ulysses must have wept to hear?

OOKING over the old manuscript wherein night-pieces, that seemed to Thew themselves by the candles which were lighted up in several parts down by way of table-book, I found many things of them: and were so inflamed by the sun-line which gave me great delight; and as human life which accidentally fell upon them, that at first turns upon the same principles and passions in all fight I could scarce forbear crying out, Fire. ages, I thought it very proper to take minutes of

The five foregoing arttíts were the most confi- what passed in that age, for the instruction of this, derable on this side the gallery; there were in- The antiquary, who lent me these papers, gave deed several others whom I had not time to look me a character of Eucrate, the favourite of Phainto. One of them, however, I could not før- ramond, extracted from an author who lived in bear observing, who was very busy in retouching that court. The account he gives both of the the finest pieces, though he produced no originals prince and this his faithful friend, will not be of his own. His pencil aggravated every feature improper to insert here, because I may have occa. that was before over-charged, loaded every defect fion to mention many of their conversations, and poisoned every colour it touched. Though into which these memorials of them may give this workman did so much mischief on the side of light. the living, he never turned his eye towards that - Pharamond, when he had a mind to retire of the dead. His name was Envy.

( for an hour or two from the hurry of business Having taken a cursory view of one side of the and fatigue of ceremony, made a signal to Eu, gallery, I turned myself to that which was filled crate, by putting his hand to his face, placing hy the works of those great masters that were his arm negligently on a window, or some such dead: when immediately I fancied myself stand action as appeared indifferent to all the rest of ing before a multitude of spectators, and thou- . the company. Upon such notice, unobserved sands of eyes looking upon me at once; for all " by others, for their intire intimacy was always before me appeared so like men and women that a fecret, Eucrate repaired to his own apartment I almost forgot they were pictures. Raphael's to receive the King. There was a secret access figures stood in one row, Titian's in another, to this part of the court, at which Eucrate used Guido Rheni's in a third. One part of the wall Ito admit many whose mean appearance in the was peopled by Hannibal Carrache, another by eyes of the ordinary waiters and door keepers Corregio, and another by Rubens. To be short, I made them be rcpulsed from other parts of the there was not a great master among the dead palace. Such as these were let in here by order who had not contributed to the cobellishment of of Eucrate, and had audiences of Pharamond. this side of the gallery. The persons that owed " This entrance Pharamond called “The Gate their being to these several maitors, appeared all of the Unhappy," and the tears of the afflicted of them to be real and alive, and differed among ! who came before him, he would say,, werę

[ocr errors]

c

I bribes received hy Eucrate; for Eucrate had ~ There is an authority due to distress, and as * the most compassionate spirit of all men living, “ none of human race is above the reach of for

except his generous master, who was always row, none should be above the hearing the voice kindled at the least affliction which was com “ of it; I am sure Pharamond is not. “Know

municated to him. In the regard for the mi. “ then, that I have this morning unfortunately ! serable, Eucrate took particular care, that the “ killed in a duel, the man whom of all men liv.

common forms of distress, and the idle pretend- « ing I most loved. I command myself too much ers to sorrow, about courts, who wanted only " in your royal presence, to say, Pharamond, give supplies to luxury, should never obtain favour “ me my friend! Pharamond has taken him from by his means : but the distresses which arise « me! I will not say, shall the merciful Phara

from the many inexplicable occurrences that « mond destroy his own subjects, the father of • happen among men, the unaccountable aliena « his country murder his people? But, the mer« tion of parents from their children, cruelty of « ciful Pharamond does destroy his subjects, the • husbands to wives, poverty occasioned from « father of his country does murder his people. « hip-wreck or fire, the falling out of friends, or “ Fortune is so much the pursuit of mankind, < such other terrible disasters, to which the life " that all glory and honour is in the power of • of man is exposed : in cases of this nature, Eu a prince, because he has the distribution of ☆ crate was the patron; and enjoyed this part of 6. their fortunes. It is therefore the inadvertency, • the royal favour so much without being envied, “ negligence, or guilt of princes, to let any thing 6 that it was never inquired into by whose means, grow into custom which is against their laws.

what no one eise cared for doing, was brought “ A court can make fashion and duty walk toabout.

“ gether; it can never, without the guilt of a One evening when Pharamond came into the « court, happen, that it shall not be unfashion6. apartment of Eucrate, he found him extremely « able to do what is unlawful. But alas ! in the

dejected; upon which he asked, with a smile “ dominions of Pharamond, by the force of a ty

which was natural to him, “What is there any r6 rant custom, which is mis-named a point of “ one too miserable to be relieved by Pliaramond, « honour, the duellift kills his friend whom he so that Eucrate is melancholy? I fear there is, “ loves; and the judge condemns the duellist, « answered the favourite; a person without, of « while he approves his behaviour. Shame is « a good air, well dressed, and though a man in “ the greatest of all evils; what avail laws, when « the strength of his life, seems to faint under « death only attends the breach of them, and s6 some inconsolable calamity: all his features " Thame obedience to thein ? As for me, oh Pha. ► seem fuffused with agony of mind; but I can ramond, were it possible to describe the name& observe in him, that it is more inclined to break « less kinds of compunctions and tendernesses I « away in tears than rage. I asked him what he feel, when I reflect upon the little accidents in “ would have; he said he would speak to Pha « our former familiarity, my mind swells into “ ramond. I desired his business; he could hardly" forrow which cannot be refiited enough to be so say to me, Eucrate, carry me to the king, my “ filent in the presence of Pharamond.” With « story is not to be told twice, I fear I shall not that he fe!l into a flood of tears, and wept “ be able to fpeak it at all.” 6 Pharamond com " aloud.'

“ Why should not Pharamond hear manded Eucrate to let him enter; he did ro, 166 the anguish he only can relieve others from in " and the gentleman approached the king with an « time to come? Let him hear from me, what « air which fpoke him under the greatest concern " they feel who have given death by the false « in what manner to demean himself. The king, « mercy of his administration, and form to him. s who had a quick discerning, relieved him from « felf the vengeance called for, by those who have • the oppreffion he was under; and with the most “ perished by his negligence."

R beautiful complacency said to him, “Sir, do

not add to that load of sorrow I see in your şs countenance the awe of my presence; think No 85. THURSDAY, JUNE 7.

you are speaking to your friend; if the cire “ cumstances of your distress will admit of it, Interdum fpeciofa locis, morataque reetà you shall find me so." "To whom the strang: Fabula, nullius veneris, fine pondere arte,

er :' “Oh excellent Pharamand, name not a Valdiùs oble&tat populum, meliusque moratur, « friend to the unfortunate Spinamont. I had Quàm versus inopes rerum, nugæque canor&. « one, but he is dead by my own hand; but oh

Hor. Ars. Poet. v. 312. is Pharamond, though it was by the hand of Spi, Sometimes in rough and undigested plays « namont, it was by the guilt of Pharamond. I we meet with such a lucky character,

come not, oh excellent prince, to implore your “ pardon; I come to relate my sorrow, a forrow As, being humour'd right,' and well pursu'd, s too great for human life to support: from And chiming trifles of more studious pens,

Succeeds muci better than the shallow verse, “ henceforth shall all occurrences appear dreams

ROSCOMMON. or short intervals of amusement, from this one so amiction which has seized my very being : 'T is the custom of the Mahometans, if they !. pardon me, oh Pharamond, is my griefs give see any printed or written paper upon the “me leave, that I lay before you, in the anguish ground, to take it up and lay it afide carefully, 5 of a wounded mind, that you, good as you are, as not knowing but it may contain some piece of ļ are guilty of the generous bsood spilt this day their Alcoran, I must confess I have so much of “ by this unhappy hand; oh that it had perished the Musulman in me, that I cannot forbear look66 before that instant!" Here the stranger paus- ing into every printed paper which comes in my

ed, and recollecting his mind, after some little way, under whatsoever despicable circumstance f meditation, he went on in a calmer tone and it may appear; for as no mortal author, in the orgesture as follows'

dinary fate and vicillitude of things, knows to

what 1

what use his works may, some time or other, be tender 'circumstances, that it is impossible for å applied, a man may often meet with very cele- reader of common humanity not to be affected brated names in a paper of tobacco. I have with them. As for the circumstance of the Ro. lighted my pipe more than once with the writings bin-red-breast, it is indeed a little poetical ornaof a prelate; and know a friend of mine, who, ment; and to thew the genius of the author for these several years, has converted the essays amidst all his fimplicity, it is just the same kind of a man of quality into a kind of fringe for his of fiction which one of the greatest of the Latin candlesticks. I remember in particular, after poets has made use of upon a parallel occafion; having read over a poem of an eminent author I mean that passion in Horace, where he describes on a victory, I met with several fragments of it himself when he was a child, fallen alleep in a upon the next rejoicing day, which had been ém. defert wood, and covered with leaves by the ture ployed in squibs and crackers, and by that means tles that took pity on him. celebrated its subject in a double capacity. I once met with a page of Mr. Baxter under a

Me fabulofæ Vulture in Apulo, Christmas pye. Whether or no the pastry-cook

Altricis extra limen Apulia, had made use of it through chance or waggery,

Ludo fatigatumque fomno for the defence of that superstitious viand, I

Frónde nová puerum palumbes
Texere

Od. 4. 1. 3. v. 9• know not; but upon the perusal of it, I conceived fo good an idea of the author's piety, that I " In lofty Vulture's rifing grounds, bought the whole book. I have often profited Without my nurse Apulia's bounds, by these accidental readings, and have fometimes " When young, and tir'd with sport and play, found very curious pieces, that are either out of " And bound with pleasing sleep I lay, print, or not to be met with in the shops of our " Doves cover'd me with myrtle boughs." London booksellers. For this reason, when my

CREECH. friends take a survey of my library, they are very much surprized to find, upon the ihelf of folios, had the greatest wit, tempered with the greatest

I have heard that the late Lord Borset, who two long band-boxes standing upright among my books, until I let them see that they are both of candor, and was one of the finest critics as well them lined with deep erudition and abstruse lite- lection of old English ballads, and took a parti

as the best poets of his age, had a numerous colrature. I might likewise mention a paper-kite, cular pleasure in the reading of them.

can af. from which I have received great improvement; firm the fame of Mr. Dryden, and know several and a hat-case, which I would not exchange for of the most refined writers of our present age wlio all the beavers in Great-Britain. This my inqui.

are of the same humour. fitive temper, or rather impertinent humour of prying into all sorts of writing, with my natural thoughts on this fubject, as he has expressed them

I might likewise refer my reader to Moliere's averfion to loquacity, gives me a good deal of employment when I enter any house in the country; only who are endowed with a true greatness of

in the character of the Misanthrope; but those for I cannot for my heart leave a room, before I foul and genius can diveft themselves of the imahave thoroughly studied the walls of it, and examined the several printed papers which are usually ses of ridicule, and admire nature 'in her fimpli. pafted upon them. The last piece that I met with city and nakedness. As for the little conceited upon this occasion gave me a most exquisite plea- ment by finding fault, they cannot be supposed ta

wits of the age, who can only shew their judge lure. My reader will think I am not serious, admire these productions which have nothing to when I acquaint him that the piece I am going recommend them but the beauties of nature, when to speak of was the old ballad of the “Two Children in the Wood,” which is one of the they do not know how to relish even those com darling songs of the common people, and has been positions that, with all the beauties of nature, the delight of moft Englishmen in some part of have also the additional advantages of art.

This song is a plain simple copy of nature, dertitute of the helps and crnaments of art. The tale of it is a pretty tragical story, and pleases N° 86. FRIDAY, June 8. for no other reason but because it is a copy of nature. There is even a despicable fimplicity in the Heu quàm difficile eft crimen non prodere vultu ! verfe; and yet because the sentiments appear ge

Ovid. Met. I. 2. V. 447. nuine and unaffected, they are able to move the How in the looks does conscious guilt appear! mind of the most polite reader with inward melta

ADDISON. ings of humanity and compassion. The incidents grow out of the subject, and are such as are HERE are several arts which all men are the most proper to cxcite pity; for which reason in some measure masters of, without hav. the whole narration has something in it very ing been at the pains of learning them. Every moving, notwithítanding the author of it; who- one that speaks or reasons is a grammarian and ever he was, has delivered it in such an abject a logician, though he may be wholly unacquainted phrase and poorness of expression, that the quoting with the rules of grammar or logic, as they are any part of it would look like a design of turning delivered in books and systems. In the same it into ridicule. But tho' the language is mean, the manner, every one is in some degree a master of thoughts, as I have before said, froni one end to that art which is generally distinguished by the the other, are natural, and therefore cannot fail name of Physiognomy; and naturally forms to to please those who are not judges of language, or himself the character or fortune of a stranger, those who, notwithitanding they are judges of from the features and lineaments of his face. We language, have a true and unprejudiced taste of are no sooner presented to any one we never saw

The condition, specch, and behaviour before, but we are immediately struck with the of the dying parents, with the age, innocence, idca of a proud, a reserved, an affable, or a good. and distrets of the children, are set forth in such

natured

their age.

T

nature,

« PreviousContinue »