with suitable abilities. These are gentlemen whom I have often invited to this trial of wit, and who have several of them acquitted themselves to my private emolument; as well as to their own reputation. My paper among the republic of letters is the Ulysses's bow, in which every man of wit or learning may try his strength. One who does not care to write a book without being sure of his abilities, may see by this means if his parts and talents are to the public taste. This I take to be of great advantage to men of the best sense, who are always diffident of their private judgment, until it receives a sanction from the public. Provoco ad populum,' 'I appeal to the people,' was the usual saying of a very excellent dramatic poet, when he had any dispute with particular persons about the justness and regularity of his productions. It is but a melancholy comfort for an author to be satisfied that he has written up to the rules of art, when he finds he has no admirers in the world besides himself. Common modesty should, on this occasion, make a man suspect his own judgment, and that he misapplies the rules of his art, when he finds himself singular in the applause which he bestows upon his own writings. The public is always even with an author who has not a just deference for them. The contempt is reciprocal. I laugh at every one,' said an old cynic, who laughs at me.' 'Do you so,' replied the philosopher; then let me tell you, you live the merriest life of any man in Athens.' It is not, therefore, the least use of this my paper, that it gives a timorous writer, and such is every good one, an opportunity of putting his abilities to the proof, and of sounding the public before he launches into it. For this reason I look upon my paper as a kind of nursery for authors, and question not but some who have made a good figure here, will hereafter flourish under their own names in more long and elaborate works. After having thus far enlarged upon this particular, I have one favour to beg of the candid and courteous reader, that when he meets with any thing in this paper which may appear a little dull and heavy (though I hope this will not be often) he will believe it is the work of some other person, and not of Nestor Ironside. I have, I know not how, been drawn into tattle of myself, more majorum, almost the length of a whole Guardian; I shall, therefore, fill up the remaining part of it with what still relates to my own person and my correspondents. Now, I would have them all know, that on the twentieth instant it is my intention to erect a lion's head in imitation of those I have described in Venice, through which all the private intelligence of that commonwealth is said to pass. This head is to open a most wide and voracious mouth, which shall take in such letters and papers as are conveyed to me by my correspondents, it being my resolution to have a particular regard to all such matters as come to my hands through the mouth of the Hon. There will be under it a box, of which the key will be kept in my own custody, to receive such papers as are dropped into it. Whatever the lion swallows I shall digest for the use of the public. This head requires some time to finish, the workman being resolved to give it several masterly touches, and to represent it as ravenous as possible. It will be set up in Button's coffee-house in Covent-garden,* who is directed to show the way to the lion's head, and to instruct any young author how to convey his works into the mouth of it with safety and secrecy. No. 99.] Saturday, July 4, 1713. Justum et tenacem propositi virum, Mente quatit solida; neque auster Impavidum ferient ruinæ. Hor. Lib. 3 Od. iii. 1. The man resolv'd and steady to his trust, And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defics Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms He unconcern'd would hear the mighty crack, Anon. THERE is no virtue so truly great and godlike as justice. Most of the other virtues are the virtues of created beings, or accommodated to our nature as we are men. Justice is that which is practised by God himself, and to be practised in its perfection by none but him. Omniscience and omnipotence are requisite for the full exertion of it. The one to discover every degree of uprightness or iniquity in thoughts, words, and actions; the other, to measure out and impart suitable rewards and punishments. As to be perfectly just is an attribute in the divine nature, to be so to the utmost of our abilities is the glory of a man. Such a one, who has the public administration in his hands, acts like the representative of his maker, in recompensing the virtuous, and punishing the offender. By the extirpating of a criminal he averts the judgments of heaven, when ready to fall upon an impious people; or, as my friend Cato expresses it much better, in a sentiment conformable to his character. When by just vengeance impious mortals perish, *The lion's head, formerly at Button's coffee-house, was preserved many years at the Shakspeare tavern in Covent-garden; the master of the tavern becoming a bankrupt, it was sold among his effects, Nov. 8, 1804, for 177. 10s. When a nation once loses its regard to jus- | mediately executed, and the corpse laid out tice; when they do not look upon it as some- upon the floor by the emperor's command. He thing venerable, holy, and inviolable; when then bid every one light his flambeau, and stand any of them dare presume to lessen, affront, or about the dead body. The sultan approaching terrify those who have the distribution of it in it, looked about the face, and immediately fell their hands; when a judge is capable of being upon his knees in prayer. Upon his rising up, influenced by any thing but law, or a cause may he ordered the peasant to set before him whatbe recommended by any thing that is foreign ever food he had in his house. The peasant to its own merits, we may venture to pronounce brought out a good deal of coarse fare, of which that such a nation is hastening to its ruin. the emperor ate very heartily. The peasant For this reason the best law that has ever seeing him in good humour, presumed to ask past in our days, is that which continues our of him, why he had ordered the flambeaux to judges in their posts during their good beha- be put out before he had commanded the adul viour, without leaving them to the mercy of terer should be slain? Why, upon their being such who in ill times might, by an undue in- lighted again, he looked upon the face of the fluence over them, trouble and pervert the dead body, and fell down in prayer? And why, course of justice. I dare say the extraordinary after this, he had ordered meat to be set before person who is now posted in the chief station him, of which he now eat so heartily? The of the law, would have been the same had that sultan being willing to gratify the curiosity of act never passed; but it is a great satisfaction to his host, answered him in this manner. Upon all honest men, that while we see the greatest hearing the greatness of the offence which had ornament of the profession in its highest post, been committed by one of the army, I had reawe are sure he cannot hurt himself by that as- son to think it might have been one of my own siduous, regular, and impartial administration sons, for who else would have been so audaof justice, for which he is so universally cele- cious and presuming! I gave orders therefore brated by the whole kingdom. Such men are for the lights to be extinguished, that I might to be reckoned among the greatest national not be led astray, by partiality or compassion, blessings, and should have that honour paid from doing justice on the criminal. Upon the them whilst they are yet living, which will not lighting the flambeaux a second time, I looked fail to crown their memory when dead. upon the face of the dead person, and, to my unspeakable joy, found it was not my son. It was for this reason that I immediately fell upon my knees and gave thanks to God. As for my eating heartily of the food you have set before me, you will cease to wonder at it, when you know that the great anxiety of mind I have been in upon this occasion, since the first complaints you brought me, has hindered my eating any thing from that time until this very moment.' I always rejoice when I see a tribunal filled with a man of an upright and inflexible temper, who in the execution of his country's laws can overcome all private fear, resentment, solicitation, and even pity itself. Whatever passion enters into a sentence or decision, so far will there be in it a tincture of injustice. In short, justice discards party, friendship, kindred, and is therefore always represented as blind, that we may suppose her thoughts are wholly intent on the equity of a cause, without being diverted or prejudiced by objects foreign to it. I shall conclude this paper with a Persian story, which is very suitable to my present subject. It will not a little please the reader, if he has the same taste of it which I myself have. As one of the sultans lay encamped on the plains of Avala, a certain great man of the army entered by force into a peasant's house, and finding his wife very handsome, turned the good man out of his dwelling and went to bed to her. The peasant complained the next morning to the sultan, and desired redress; but was not able to point out the criminal. The emperor, who was very much incensed at the injury done to the poor man, told him that probably the of fender might give his wife another visit, and if he did, commanded him immediately to repair to his tent and acquaint him with it. Accordingly, within two or three days the officer entered again the peasant's house, and turned the owner out of doors; who thereupon applied himself to the imperial tent, as he was ordered. The sultan went in person, with his guards, to the poor man's house, where he arrived about midnight. As the attendants carried each of them a flambeau in their hands, the sultan, after having ordered all the lights to be put out, gave the word to enter the house, find out the criminal, and put him to death. This was im 1 No. 100.] IF Monday, July 6, 1713. Hoc vos præcipue, niveæ, decet, hoc ubi vidi, If snowy white your neck, you still should wear Congreve. THERE is a certain female ornament by some called a tucker, and by others the neck-piece, being a slip of fine linen or muslin that used to run in a small kind of ruffle round the uppermost verge of the women's stays, and by that means covered a great part of the shoulders and bosom. Having thus given a definition, or rather description of the tucker, I must take notice that our ladies have of late thrown aside this fig-leaf, and exposed in its primitive nakedness that gentle swelling of the breast which it was used to conceal. What their design by it is, they themselves best know. I observed this as I was sitting the other day by a famous she-visitant at my lady Lizard's, when accidently as I was looking upon her face. letting my sight fall into her bosom, I was sur prised with beauties which I never before dis covered, and do not know where my eye would have run, if I had not immediately checked it. The lady herself could not forbear blushing, when she observed by my looks that she had made her neck too beautiful and glaring an object, even for a man of my character and gravity. I could scarce forbear making use of my hand to cover so unseemly a sight. What most troubles and indeed surprises me in this particular, I have observed that the leaders in this fashion were most of them married women. What their design can be in making themselves bare I cannot possibly imagine. Nobody exposes wares that are appropriated. When the bird is taken, the snare ought to be removed. It was a remarkable If we survey the pictures of our great grand- circumstance in the institution of the severe mothers in queen Elizabeth's time, we see them Lycurgus: as that great lawgiver knew that the clothed down to the very wrists, and up to the wealth and strength of a republic consisted in very chin. The hands and face were the only the multitude of citizens, he did all he could to samples they gave of their beautiful persons. encourage marriage. In order to it he preThe following age of females made larger dis- scribed a certain loose dress for the Spartan coveries of their complexion. They first of all maids, in which there were several artificial tucked up their garments to the elbow, and not-rents and openings, that upon their putting withstanding the tenderness of the sex, were themselves in motion, discovered several limbs content, for the information of mankind, to expose their arms to the coldness of the air, and injuries of the weather. This artifice hath succeeded to their wishes, and betrayed many to their arms, who might have escaped them had they been still concealed. About the same time, the ladies considering that the neck was a very modest part in a human body, they freed it from those yokes, I mean those monstrous linen ruffs, in which the simplicity of their grandmothers had inclosed it. In proportion as the age refined, the dress still sunk lower; so that when we now say a woman has a handsome neck, we reckon into it many of the adjacent parts. The disuse of the tucker has still enlarged it, insomuch that the neck of a fine woman at present takes in almost half the body, Since the female neck thus grows upon us, and the ladies seem disposed to discover themselves to us more and more, I would fain have them tell us once for all, how far they intend to go, and whether they have yet determined among themselves where to make a stop. For my own part, their necks, as they call them, are no more than busts of alabaster in my eye. I can look upon of the body to the beholders. Such were the baits and temptations made use of by that wise lawgiver, to incline the young men of his age to marriage. But when the maid was once sped, she was not suffered to tantalize the male part of the commonwealth. Her garments were closed up, and stitched together with the greatest care imaginable. The shape of her limbs and complexion of her body had gained their ends, and were ever after to be concealed from the notice of the public. I shall conclude this discourse of the tucker with a moral which I have taught upon all occasions, and shall still continue to inculcate into my female readers; namely, that nothing be. stows so much beauty on a woman as modesty. This is a maxim laid down by Ovid himself, the greatest master in the art of love. He observes upon it, that Venus pleases most when she appears (semi-reducta) in a figure withdrawing herself from the eye of the beholder. It is very probable he had in his thoughts the sta tue which we see in the Venus de Medicis, where she is represented in such a shy retiring posture, and covers her bosom with one of her hands. In short, modesty gives the maid greater beauty than even the bloom of youth, it bestows on the wife the dignity of a matron, and rein No. 101.] Tuesday, July 7, 1713. Tros Tyriusve mihi nullo discrimine habetur. Trojan and Tyrian differ but in name, 'The yielding marble of a snowy breast,' with as much coldness as this line of Mr. Wal-states the widow in her virginity. ler represents in the object itself. But my fair readers ought to consider that all their beholders are not Nestors. Every man is not sufficiently qualified with age and philosophy, to be an indifferent spectator of such allurements. The eyes of young men are curious and penetrating, their imaginations are of a roving nature, and their passion under no discipline or restraint. I am in pain for a woman of rank, when I see her thus exposing herself to the regards of every impudent staring fellow. How can she expect that her quality can defend her, when she gives such provocation? I could not but observe last winter, that upon the disuse of the neck-piece, (the ladies will pardon me, if it is not the fashionable term of art,) the whole tribe of oglers gave their eyes a new determination, and stared the fair sex in the neck rather than in the face. To prevent these saucy familiar glances, I would entreat my gentle readers to sew on their tuckers again, to retrieve the modesty of their characters, and not to imitate the nakedness, but the innocence, of their mother Eve. THIS being the great day of thanksgiving for the peace, I shall present my reader with a couple of letters that are the fruits of it. They are written by a gentleman who has taken this opportunity to see France, and has given his friends in England a general account of what he has there met with, in several epistles. Those which follow were put into my hands with liberty to make them public, and I question not but my reader will think himself obliged to me for so doing. 'SIR,-Since I had the happiness to see you last, I have encountered as many misfortunes as a knight-errant. I had a fall into the water at Calais, and since that, several bruises upon | enough by him to furnish another gallery much the land, lame post-horses by day, and hard longer than the present. beds at night, with many other dismal adventures, "Quorum animus meminisse horret luctuque refugit." Virg. Æn. ii. 12. At which my memory with grief recoils." 'My arrival at Paris was at first no less uncomfortable, where I could not see a face nor hear a word that I ever met with before; so that my most agreeable companions have been statues and pictures, which are many of them very extraordinary; but what particularly recommends them to me is, that they do not speak French, and have a very good quality, rarely to be met with in this country, of not being too talkative. 'I am settled for some time at Paris. Since my being here I have made the tour of all the king's palaces, which has been, I think, the pleasantest part of my life. I could not believe it was in the power of art, to furnish out such a multitude of noble scenes as I there met with, or that so many delightful prospects could lie within the compass of a man's imagination. There is every thing done that can be expected from a prince who removes mountains, turns the course of rivers, raises woods in a day's time, and plants a village or town on such a particular spot of ground, only for the bettering of a view. One would wonder to see how many tricks he has made the water play for his diver sion. It turns itself into pyramids, triumphal arches, glass bottles, imitates a fire work, rises in a mist, or tells a story out of Æsop. 'I do not believe, as good a poet as you are, that you can make finer landscapes than those about the king's houses, or, with all your descriptions, raise a more magnificent palace than Versailles. I am, however, so singular as to prefer Fontainbleau to all the rest. It is situated among rocks and woods, that give you a fine variety of salvage prospects. The king has humoured the genius of the place, and only made use of so much art as is necessary to help and regulate nature, without reforming her too much. The cascades seem to break through the clefts and cracks of rocks that are covered over with moss, and look as if they were piled upon one another by accident. There is an artificial wildness in the meadows, walks, and canals; and the garden, instead of a wall, is fenced on the lower end by a natural mound of rock-work that strikes the eye very agreeably. For my part, I think there is something more charming in these rude heaps of stone than in so many statues, and would as soon see a river winding through woods and meadows, as when it is tossed up in so many whimsical figures at Versailles. To pass from works of nature to those of art: In my opinion the pleasantest part of Versailles is the gallery. Every one sees on each side of it something that will be sure to please him. For one of them commands a view of the finest garden in the world, and the other is wainscoted with looking-glass. The history of the present king until the year 16-is painted on the roof by Le Brun, so that his majesty has actions The painter has represented his most Chris tian majesty under the figure of Jupiter, throw. ing thunderbolts all about the ceiling, and striking terror into the Danube and Rhine, that lie astonished and blasted with lightning a little above the cornice. 'But what makes all these shows the more agreeable, is the great kindness and affability that is shown to strangers. If the French do not excel the English in all the arts of humani ty, they do at least in the outward expressions of it. And upon this, as well as other accounts, though I believe the English are a much wiser nation, the French are undoubtedly much more happy. Their old men in particular are, I be lieve, the most agreeable in the world. An antediluvian could not have more life and briskness in him at threescore and ten: for that fire and levity which makes the young ones scarce conversible, when a little wasted and tempered by years, makes a very pleasant and gay old age. Besides, this national fault of being so very talkative looks natural and graceful in one that has gray hairs to countenance it. The mentioning this fault in the French must put me in mind to finish my letter, lest you think me already too much infected by their conver sation; but I must desire you to consider, that travelling does in this respect lay a little claim to the privilege of old age. I am, sir, &c.' 'Blois, May 15, N. S. 'SIR,-I cannot pretend to trouble you with any news from this place, where the only advantage I have besides getting the language, is to see the manners and tempers of the people, which I believe may be better learnt here than in courts and greater cities, where artifice and disguise are more in fashion. I have already seen, as I informed you in my last, all the king's palaces, and have now seen a great part of the country. I never thought there had been in the world such an excessive magnificence or poverty as I have met with in both together. One can scarce conceive the pomp that appears in every thing about the king; but at the same time it makes half his subjects go bare-foot. The people are, however, the happiest in the world, and enjoy, from the benefit of their climate, and natural constitution, such a perpetual gladness of heart and easiness of temper as even liberty and plenty cannot be stow on those of other nations. It is not in the power of want or slavery to make them miserable. There is nothing to be met with in the country but mirth and poverty. Every one sings, laughs, and starves. Their conversation is generally agreeable; for if they have any wit or sense, they are sure to show it. They never mend upon a second meeting, but use all the freedom and familiarity at first sight, that a long intimacy or abundance of wine, can scarce draw from an Englishman. Their women are perfect mistresses in the art of showing themselves to the best advantage. They are always gay and sprightly, and set off the worst faces in Europe with the best airs. Every one knows how to give herself as charming a look and pos ture as sir Godfrey Kneller could draw her in. I I cannot end my letter without observing, that from what I have already seen of the world, I cannot but set a particular mark of distinction upon those who abound most in the virtues of their nation, and least with its imperfections. When, therefore, I see the good sense of an Englishman in its highest perfection without any mixture of the spleen, I hope you will excuse me, if I admire the character, and am ambitious of subscribing myself, sir, yours, &c.' No. 102.] Wednesday, July 8, 1713. -Natos ad flumina primum Strong from the cradle, of a sturdy brood, naked, without complaining of the bleakness of the air in which they are born, as the armies of the northern nations keep the field all winter. The softest of our British ladies expose their arms and necks to the open air, which the men could not do without catching cold, for want of being accustomed to it. The whole body by the same means might contract the same firmness and temper. The Scythian that was asked how it was possible for the inhabitants of his frozen climate to go naked, replied, 'Because we are all over face. Mr. Locke advises parents to have their children's feet washed every morning in cold water, which might probably prolong multitudes of lives. I verily believe a cold bath would be one of the most healthful exercises in the world, were it made use of in the education of youth. It would make their bodies more than proof to the injuries of the air and weather. It would be something like what the poets tell us of Achilles, whom his mother is said to have dipped, when he was a child, in the river Styx. The story adds, that this made him invulnerable all over, I AM always beating about in my thoughts excepting that part which his mother held in for something that may turn to the benefit of her hand during this immersion, and which by my dear countrymen. The present season of that means lost the benefit of these hardening the year having put most of them in slight sum- waters. Our common practice runs in a quite mer-suits, has turned my speculations to a sub-contrary method. We are perpetually softening ject that concerns every one who is sensible of ourselves by good fires and warm clothes. The cold or heat, which I believe takes in the great-air within our rooms has generally two or three est part of my readers. degrees more of heat in it than the air without doors. There is nothing in nature more inconstant than the British climate, if we except the humour of its inhabitants. We have frequently in one day all the seasons of the year. I have shivered in the dog-days, and been forced to throw off my coat in January. I have gone to bed in August, and rose in December. Summer has often caught me in my drap de Berry, and winter in my Doily suit. I remember a very whimsical fellow (commonly known by the name of Posture-master) in king Charles the Second's reign, who was the plague of all the tailors about town. He would often send for one of them to take measure of him, but would so contrive it as to have a most immoderate rising in one of his shoulders. When the clothes were brought home and tried upon him, the deformity was removed into the other shoulder. Upon which the tailor begged pardon for the mistake, and mended it as fast as he could, but upon a third trial found him a straight-shouldered man as one would desire to see, but a little unfortunate in a hump back. In short, this wandering tumour puzzled all the workmen about town, who found it impossible to accommodate so changeable a customer. My reader will apply this to any one who would adapt a suit to a season of our English climate. After this short descant on the uncertainty of our English weather, I come to my moral. A man should take care that his body be not too soft for his climate; but rather, if possible, harden and season himself beyond the degree of cold wherein he lives. Daily experience teaches us how we may inure ourselves by custom to bear the extremities of weather without injury. The inhabitants of Nova Zembla go Crassus is an old lethargic valetudinarian. For these twenty years last past he has been clothed in frize of the same colour, and of the same piece. He fancies he should catch his death in any other kind of manufacture; and though his avarice would incline him to wear it until it was threadbare, he dares not do it lest he should take cold when the knap is off. He could no more live without his frize coat, than without his skin. It is not indeed so properly his coat as what the anatomists call one of the integuments of the body. How different an old man is Crassus from myself! It is, indeed, the particular distinction of the Ironsides to be robust and hardy, to defy the cold and rain, and let the weather do its worst. My father lived till a hundred without a cough; and we have a tradition in the family that my grandfather used to throw off his hat, and go open-breasted, after fourscore. As for myself, they used to sowse me over head and ears in water when I was a boy, so that I am now looked upon as one of the most case-har dened of the whole family of the Ironsides. In short, I have been so plunged in water and inured to the cold, that I regard myself as a piece of true tempered Steel, and can say with the above-mentioned Scythian, that I am face, or, if my enemies please, forehead all over. |