per season; on which account this is to assure you that the club of Ugly Faces was instituted originally at Cambridge, in the merry reign of King Charles II. As in great bodies of men it is not difficult to find members enough for such a club, so (I remember) it was then feared, upon their

and is amazed to see in it, 'My lord, I received your grace's commands, with an entire submission to. If he is at an entertainment, you may see the pieces of bread continually multiplying round his plate. It is true, the rest of the company want it as well as their knives and forks, which Menalcas does not let them keep long. Some-intention of dining together, that the hall times in a morning he puts his whole family in a hurry, and at last goes out without being able to stay for his coach or dinner, and for that day you may see him in every part of the town, except the very place where he had appointed to be upon a business of importance. You would often take him for every thing that he is not; for a fellow quite stupid, for he hears nothing; for a fool, for he talks to himself, and has an hundred grimaces and motions with his head, which are altogether involuntary; for a proud man, for he looks full upon you, and takes no notice of your saluting him. The truth of it is, his eyes are open, but he makes no use of them, and neither sees you, nor any man, nor any thing else. He came once from his country-house, and his own footmen undertook to rob him, and succeeded. They held a flambeau to his throat, and bid him deliver his purse; he did so, and coming home told his friends he had been robbed; they desired to know the particulars, 'Ask my servants,' says Menalcas, for they were with me.'

No. 78.] Wednesday, May 30, 1711.

X.

belonging to Clare-hall, the ugliest then in the town (though now the neatest) would not be large enough handsomely to hold the company. Invitations were made to great numbers, but very few accepted them without much difficulty. One pleaded, that being at London, in a bookseller's shop, a lady going by with a great belly longed to kiss him. He had certainly been excused, but that evidence appeared, that indeed one in London did pretend she longed to kiss him, but that it was only a pickpocket, who during his kissing her stole away all his money. Another would have got off by a dimple in his chin; but it was proved upon him, that he had, by coming into a room, made a woman miscarry, and frightened two children into fits. A third alleged, that he was taken by a lady for another gentleman, who was one of the handsomest in the university: but upon inquiry it was found that the lady had actually lost one eye, and the other was very much upon the decline. A fourth produced letters out of the country in his vindication, in which a gentleman offered him his daughter, who had lately fallen in love with him, with a good fortune; but it was made appear, that the young lady was amorous, and had like to have run away with her father's coachman, so that it was supposed, that her pretence of falling in love with him, was only in order to be well married. It was pleasant to hear the several excuses which were made, insomuch that some made as much interest to be excused, as they would from serving sheriff; however, at last the society was formed, and proper officers were appointed; and the day was fixed for the entertainment, which was in venison season. A pleasant fellow of King's-college (commonly called Crab, from his sour look, and the only man who did not pretend to get off) was nominated for chaplain; and nothing was wanting but some one to sit in the elbow-chair, As to the Cambridge affair, the hu- the table; and there the business stuck, for by way of president, at the upper end of mour was really carried on in the way I there was no contention for superiority describe it. However, you have a full there. This affair made so great a noise, commission to put out or in, and to do that the King, who was then at Newmarwhatever you think fit with it. I have al-ket, heard of it, and was pleased merrily ready had the satisfaction of seeing you take that liberty with some things I have before sent you. Go on, sir, and prosper. You have the best wishes of, sir, your very affectionate and obliged humble servant.'

Cum talis sis, utinam noster esses!
Could we but call so great a genius ours!

The following letters are so pleasant, that I doubt not but the reader will be as much diverted with them as I was. I have nothing to do in this day's entertainment, but taking the sentence from the end of the Cambridge letter, and placing it at the front of my paper, to show the author I wish him my companion with as much earnestness as he invites me to be his.

'SIR,-I send you the enclosed, to be inserted (if you think them worthy of it) in your Spectator; in which so surprising a genius appears, that it is no wonder if all mankind endeavours to get somewhat into a paper which will always live.

and graciously to say, "He could not be there himself, but he would send them a brace of bucks.'

'I would desire you, sir, to set this affair in a true light, that posterity may not be misled in so important a point; for when the wise man who shall write your true history,' shall acquaint the world, that you had a diploma sent from the Ugly Club at

Oxford, and that by virtue of it you were admitted into it, what a learned war will there be among future critics about the original of that club, which both universities will contend so warmly for? And pernaps some hardy Cantabrigian author may then boldly affirm, that the word Oxford was an interpolation of some Oxonian instead of Cambridge. This affair will be best adjusted in your life-time; but I hope your affection to your mother will not make you partial to your aunt.

'To tell you, sir, my own opinion: though I cannot find any ancient records of any acts of the society of the Ugly Faces, considered in a public capacity; yet, in a private one, they have certainly antiquity on their side. I am persuaded they will hardly give place to the Loungers, and the Loungers are of the same standing with the university itself.

'Though we well know, sir, you want no motives to do justice, yet I am commissioned to tell you, that you are invited to be admitted ad eundem at Cambridge; and I believe I may venture safely to deliver this as the wish of our whole university.'

• To Mr. Spectator.

"The humble Petition of WHO and WHICH, showeth,

WHO Confess their faults.' What hopes then have we of having justice done us, when the makers of our very prayers and laws, and the most learned in all faculties, seem to be in a confederacy against us, and our enemies themselves must be our judges.

The Spanish proverb says, El sabio muda consejo, el necio no; i. e. "A wise man changes his mind, a fool never will.' So that we think you, sir, a very proper person to address to, since we know you to be capable of being convinced, and changing your judgment. You are well able to settle this affair, and to you we submit our cause. We desire you to assign the butts and bounds of each of us; and that for the future we may both enjoy our own. We would desire to be heard by our counsel, but that we fear in their very pleadings they would betray our cause: besides, we have been oppressed so many years, that we can appear no other way but in forma pauperis. All which considered, we hope you will be pleased to do that which to right and justice shall appertain. And your petitioners,' &c.

No. 79.] Thursday, May 31, 1711.
Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore.

R.

Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xvi. 52. The good, for virtue's sake, abhor to sin.-Creech. I HAVE received very many letters of late from my female correspondents, most of whom are very angry with me for abridg

"That your petitioners being in a forlorn and destitute condition, know not to whom we should apply ourselves for relief, because there is hardly any man alive who hath not injured us. Nay, we speak it with sorrow, even you yourself, whom we should suspect of such a practice the lasting their pleasures, and looking severely of all mankind, can hardly acquit yourself upon things in themselves indifferent. But of having given us some cause of com- this imputation. All I contend for is, that I think they are extremely unjust to me in plaint. We are descended of ancient fa- those excellencies, which are to be regarded milies, and kept up our dignity and honour but in the second place, should not precede many years, till the jack-sprat THAT sup- more weighty considerations. The heart of planted us. How often have we found ourselves slighted by the clergy in their pul- half a life spent in discourses on the subjecman deceives him in spite of the lectures of pits, and the lawyers at the bar? Nay, how tion of passion; and I do not know why one often have we heard, in one of the most polite and august assemblies in the uni- may not think the heart of woman as unverse, to our great mortification, these the faculties of both sexes, the minds of faithful to itself. If we grant an equality in words, That THAT that noble lord urged;' which if one of us had had justice done, women are less cultivated with precepts, would have sounded nobler thus, That and consequently may, without disrespect WHICH that noble lord urged.' Senators to them, be accounted more liable to illuthemselves, the guardians of British liber- sion, in cases wherein natural inclination is ty, have degraded us, and preferred THAT out of the interests of virtue. I shall take to us; and yet no decree was ever given up my present time in commenting upon a against us. In the very acts of parlia- from thence leave the reader to judge whebillet or two which came from ladies, and ment, in which the utmost right should be done to every body, word, and thing, we find ourselves often either not used, or used one instead of another. In the first and best prayer children are taught, they learn to misuse us: Our Father WHICH art in heaven,' should be 'Our Father, wнO 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am young, and art in heaven;' and even a Convocation, very much inclined to follow the paths of after long debates, refused to consent to an innocence; but at the same time, as I have alteration of it. In our General Confession a plentiful fortune, and am of quality, I am we say, 'Spare thou them, O God, WHICH unwilling to resign the pleasures of distincconfess their faults,' which ought to be tion, some little satisfaction in being ad

ther I am in the right or not, in thinking it The following address seems to have ne is possible fine women may be mistaken. other design in it, but to tell me the writer will do what she pleases for all me.

mired in general, and much greater in being beloved by a gentleman whom I design to make my husband. But I have a mind to put off entering into matrimony till another winter is over my head, which (whatever, musty sir, you may think of the matter) I design to pass away in hearing music, going to plays, visiting, and all other satisfactions which fortune and youth, protected by innocence and virtue, can procure for, sir, your most humble servant, M. T. 'My lover does not know I like him, therefore having no engagements upon me, I think to stay and know whether I may not like any one else better.'

I have heard Will Honeycomb say, A woman seldom writes her mind but in her postscript.' I think this gentlewoman has sufficiently discovered her's in this. I will lay what wager she pleases against her present favourite, and can tell her that she will like ten more before she is fixed, and then will take the worst man she ever liked n her life. There is no end of affection taken in at the eyes only; and you may as well satisfy those eyes with seeing, as controul any passion received by them only. it is from loving by sight, that coxcombs so frequently succeed with women, and very often a young lady is bestowed by her parents to a man who weds her as innocence itself, though she has, in her own heart, given her approbation of a different man in every assembly she was in the whole year before. What is wanting among women as well as among men is the love of laudable things, and not to rest only on the forbearance of such as are reproachful.

many, must be your chief care; for upon the propriety of such writings depends a great deal. I have known those among us who think, if they every morning and evening spend an hour in their closet, and read over so many prayers in six or seven books of devotion, all equally nonsensical, with a sort of warmth, (that might as well be raised by a glass of wine, or a dram of citron,) they may all the rest of their time go on in whatever their particular passion leads them to. The beauteous Philautia, who is (in your language) an idol, is one of these votaries; she has a very pretty furnished closet, to which she retires at her

appointed hours.-This is her dressingroom, as well as chapel; she has constantly before her a large looking-glass; and upon the table, according to a very witty author,

"Together lie her prayer-book and paint,

At once t'improve the sinner and the saint.' 'It must be a good scene, if one could be present at it, to see this idol by turns lift up her eyes to heaven, and steal glances at her own dear person. It cannot but be a pleasWhen you are upon this subject, choose ing conflict between vanity and humiliation. books which elevate the mind above the little things in it. For want of such instrucworld, and give a pleasing indifference to tions, I am apt to believe so many people take it in their heads to be sullen, cross, and angry, under pretence of being abat the same time they betray their fondness stracted from the affairs of this life, when for them by doing their duty as a task, and pouting and reading good books for a week together. Much of this I take to proceed How far removed from a woman of this from the indiscretion of the books themlight imagination is Eudosia! Eudosia has selves, whose very titles of weekly preparaall the arts of life and good-breeding, with tions, and such limited godliness, lead peoso much ease, that the virtue of her con-ple of ordinary capacities into great errors, duct looks more like instinct than choice. It is as little difficult to her to think justly of persons and things, as it is to a woman of different accomplishments to move ill or look awkward. That which was, at first, the effect of instruction, is grown into a habit; and it would be as hard for Eudosia to indulge a wrong suggestion of thought, as it would be for Flavia, the fine dancer, to come into a room with an unbecoming air. But the misapprehensions people themselves have of their own state of mind, is laid down with much discerning in the following letter, which is but an extract of a kind epistle from my charming mistress Hecatissa, who is above the vanity of external beauty, and is the better judge of the perfections of the mind.

and raise in them a mechanical_religion, entirely distinct from morality. I know a lady so given up to this sort of devotion, that though she employs six or eight hours of the twenty-four at cards, she never misses one constant hour of prayer, for which time another holds her cards, to which she returns with no little anxiousness till two or three in the morning. All these acts are but empty shows, and, as it were, compliments made to virtue; the mind is all the while untouched with any true pleasure in the pursuit of it. From hence I presume it arises, that so many people call themselves virtuous, from no other pretence to it but an absence of ill. There is Dulcianara, the most insolent of all creatures to her friends and domestics, upon no other pretence in nature, but that 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I write this to ac- (as her silly phrase is) "No one can say quaint you, that very many ladies, as well black is her eye." She has no secrets, foras myself, spend many hours more than we sooth, which should make her afraid to used at the glass, for want of the female speak her mind, and therefore she is imlibrary, of which you promised us a cata- pertinently blunt to all her acquaintance, logue. I hope, sir, in the choice of authors and unseasonably imperious to all her for us, you will have a particular regard to family. Dear sir, be pleased to put such books of devotion. What they are, and how books into our hands as may make our vir

tue more inward and convince some of us,
that in a mind truly virtuous, the scorn of
rice is always accompanied with the pity
of it. This and other things are impatiently
expected from you by our whole sex;
among the rest by, sir, your most humble
servant,
R.

No. 80.] Friday, June 1, 1711.

B. D.'

instances of applause. The decencies to which women are obliged, made these virgins stifle their resentment so far as not to break into open violences, while they equally suffered the torments of a regulated anger. Their mothers, as it is usual, engaged in the quarrel, and supported the several pretensions of their daughters with all that ill-chosen sort of expense which is common with people of plentiful fortunes and mean taste. The girls preceded their

Cælum, non animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt. parents like queens of May, in all the gaudy colours imaginable, on every Sunday, to church, and were exposed to the examination of the audience for superiority of beauty.

Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xi. 27.
Those that beyond-sea go, will sadly find,
They change their climate only, not their mind.

Creech.

During this constant struggle it happenIn the year 1688, and on the same day of ed, that Phillis one day at public prayers that year, were born in Cheapside, London, smote the heart of a gay West-Indian, who two females of exquisite feature and shape; appeared in all the colours which can affect the one we shall call Brunetta, the other an eye that could not distinguish between Phillis. A close intimacy between their being fine and tawdry. This American, in parents made each of them the first ac- a summer-island suit, was too shining and quaintance the other knew in the world. too gay to be resisted by Phillis, and too inThey played, dressed babies, acted visit- tent upon her charms to be diverted by ings, learned to dance, and make courtesies any of the laboured attractions of Brunetta. together. They were inseparable compa- Soon after, Brunetta had the mortification nions in all the little entertainments their to see her rival disposed of in a wealthy tender years were capable of: which inno- marriage, while she was only addressed to cent happiness continued until the begin- in a manner that showed she was the admining of their fifteenth year, when it hap-ration of all men, but the choice of none. pened that Phillis had a head-dress on, Phillis was carried to the habitation of her which became her so well, that instead of spouse in Barbadoes. Brunetta had the illbeing beheld any more with pleasure for nature to inquire for her by every opportutheir amity to each other, the eyes of the nity, and had the misfortune to hear of her neighbourhood were turned to remark them being attended by numerous slaves, fanned with comparison of their beauty. They into slumbers by successive bands of them, now no longer enjoyed the ease of mind and and carried from place to place in all the pleasing indolence in which they were for- pomp of barbarous magnificence. Brunetmerly happy, but all their words and ac-ta could not endure these repeated advices, tions were misinterpreted by each other, and every excellence in their speech and behaviour was looked upon as an act of emulation to surpass the other. These beginnings of disinclination soon improved into a formality of behaviour, a general coldness, and by natural steps into an irreconcilable hatred.

These two rivals for the reputation of beauty, were in their stature, countenance, and mien so very much alike, that if you were speaking of them in their absence, the words in which you described the one must give you an idea of the other. They were hardly distinguishable, you would think when they were apart, though extremely different when together. What made their enmity the more entertaining to all the rest of their sex was, that in detraction from each other, neither could fall upon terms which did not hit herself as much as her adversary. Their nights grew restless with meditation of new dresses to outvie each other, and inventing new devices to recal admirers, who observed the charms of the one rather than those of the other, on the last meeting. Their colours failed at each other's appearance, flushed with pleasure at the report of a disadvantage, and their countenances withered upon

but employed all her arts and charms in laying baits for any of condition of the same island, out of mere ambition to confront her once more before she died. She at last succeeded in her design, and was taken to wife by a gentleman whose estate was contiguous to that of her enemy's husband. It would be endless to enumerate the many occasions on which these irreconcilable beauties laboured to excel each other; but in process of time it happened, that a ship put into the island consigned to a friend of Phillis, who had directions to give her the refusal of all goods for apparel, before Brunetta could be alarmed of their arrival. He did so, and Phillis was dressed in a few days in a brocade more gorgeous and costly than had ever before appeared in that latitude. Brunetta languished at the sight, and could by no means come up to the bravery of her antagonist. She communicated her anguish of mind to a faithful friend, who by an interest in the wife of Phillis's merchant, procured a remnant of the same silk for Brunetta. Phillis took pains to appear in all the public places where she was sure to meet Brunetta; Brunetta was now prepared for the insult, and came to a public ball in a plain black silk mantua, attended by a beautiful negro girl in a petticoat of

the same brocade with which Phillis was | No. 81.] Saturday, June 2, 1711. attired. This drew the attention of the whole company, upon which the unhappy Phillis swooned away, and was immediately conveyed to her house. As soon as she came to herself, she fled from her husband's house, went on board a ship in the road; and is now landed in inconsolable despair at Plymouth.