might put this artist to the trial, carried him to their master, whom he had never seen before, and did not know he was then in company with him." After a short examination of his face, the physiognomist pronounced him the most lewd, libidinous, drunken old fellow, that he had ever met with in his whole life. Upon which the disciples all burst out a laughing, as thinking they had detected the falsehood and vanity of his art. But Socrates told them, that the principles of his art might be very true, notwithstanding his present mistake: for that he himself was naturally inclined to those particular vices which the physiognomist had discovered in his countenance, but that he had conquered the strong dispositions he was born with by the dictates of philosophy. 1 We are, indeed, told by an ancient author, 2 2 that Socrates very much resembled Silenus in his face; which we find to have been very rightly observed from the statues and busts of both that are still extant; as well as on several antique seals and precious stones, which are frequently enough to be met with in the cabinets of the curious. But, however observations of this nature may sometimes hold, a wise man should be particularly cautious how he gives credit to a man's outward appearance. It is an irreparable injustice we are guilty of towards one another, when we are prejudiced by the looks and features of those whom we do not know. How often do we conceive hatred against a person of worth; or fancy a man to be proud and ill-natured by his as 1 Cum multa in conventu vitia collegisset in eum Zopyrus, qui se naturam cujusque ex forma prospicere profitebatur, derisus est a cæteris, qui illa in Socrate vitia non agnoscerent: ab illo autem Socrate sublevatus, cum illa sibi signa, sed ratione, a se dejecta diceret. Cicero Tuscul. iv. c. 37.-G. V. Plato. Symp. c. 32—and Xen. Symp. c. 5.-G. L. Better, "and did not know to be then in company with him," as refer ring to "whom.”—H. pect, whom we think we cannot esteem too much when we are acquainted with his real character? Dr. Moore, in his admirable System of Ethics, reckons this particular inclination to take a prejudice against a man for his looks, among the smaller vices in morality, and, if I remember, gives it the name of a Prosopolepsia.1 L. No. 89. TUESDAY, JUNE 12. -Petite hinc juvenesque senesque Finem animo certum, miserisque viatica canis PERS. Sat. v. 64. PERS. From thee both old and young, with profit learn The bounds of good and evil to discern. CORN. Unhappy he who does this work adjourn, And to to-morrow would the search delay; His lazy morrow will be like to-day. PERS. But is one day of ease too much to borrow? CORN. Yes, sure: for yesterday was once to-morrow That yesterday is gone, and nothing gained; And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain'd: Who, like the hindmost chariot wheels are curst, DRYDEN. As my correspondents upon the subject of love are very numerous, it is my design, if possible, to range them under several 1 A Greek word used in the N. T. Rom. ii. 11, and Eph. vi. 9, where it is said that God is no respecter of persons. Here it signifies a prejudice against a person formed from his countenance, &c., too hastily.-C. Rightly so called, though now much neglected and almost forgot ten.-H. heads, and address myself to them at different times. The first branch of them, to whose service I shall dedicate this paper, are those that have to do with women of dilatory tempers, who are for spinning out the time of courtship to an immoderate length, without being able either to close with their lovers, or to dismiss them. I have many letters by me filled with complaints against this sort of women. In one of them no less a man than a brother of the coiff' tells me, that he began his suit Vicesimo nono Caroli Secundi, before he had been a twelvemonth at the Temple; that he prosecuted it for many years after he was called to the bar; that at present he is a serjeant at law; and notwithstanding he hoped that matters would have been long since brought to an issue, the fair one still demurs. I am so well pleased with this gentleman's phrase, that I shall distinguish this sect of women by the title of Demurrers. I find by another letter from one that calls himself Thyrsis, that his mistress has been demurring above these seven years. But among all my plaintiffs of this nature, I most pity the unfortunate Philander, a man of a constant passion and plentiful fortune, who sets forth, that the timorous and irresolute Sylvia has demurred till she is past child-bearing. Strephon appears by his letter to be a very choleric lover, and irrevocably smitten with one that demurs out of self-interest. He tells me with great passion, that she has bubbled him out of his youth; that she drilled him on to five and fifty, and that he verily believes she will drop him in his old age if she can find her account in another. I shall conclude this narrative with a letter from honest Sam. Hopewell, a very pleasant fellow, who it seems has at last married a demurrer; I must only premise, that Sam, who is a very good bottle companion, has been the diversion of his friends, upon account of his pas 1i. e., a sergeant at law.-C. sion, ever since the year one thousand six hundred and eighty one. "DEAR SIR, She We often "You know very well my passion for Mrs. Martha, and what a dance she has led me: she took me out at the age of two-andtwenty, and dodged with me above thirty years. I have loved her till she has grown as grey as a cat, and am with much ado become the master of her person, such as it is at present. is, however, in my eye, a very charming old woman. lament that we did not marry sooner, but she has nobody to blame for it but herself. You know very well that she would never think of me whilst she had a tooth in her head. I have put the date of my passion (Anno Amoris trigesimo primo) instead of a posie, on my wedding ring. I expect you should send me a congratulatory letter; or, if you please, an epithalamium, upon this occasion. "Mrs. Martha's and your's eternally, "SAM. HOPEWELL." In order to banish an evil out of the world, that does not only produce great uneasiness to private persons, but has also a very bad influence on the public, I shall endeavour to shew the folly of demurring from two or three reflections, which I earnestly reI commend to the thoughts of my fair readers. First of all I would have them seriously think on the shortness of their time. Life is not long enough for a coquette to play all her tricks in. A timorous woman drops into her grave before she has done deliberating. Were the age of man the same that it was before the flood, a lady might sacrifice half a century to a scruple, and be two or three ages in demurring. Had she nine hundred years good, she might hold out to the conversion of the Jews before she thought fit to be prevailed upon. But, alas! she ought to play her part in haste, when she considers that she is suddenly to quit the stage, and make room for others. In the second place, I would desire my female readers to consider, that as the term of life is short, that of beauty is much shorter. The finest skin wrinkles in a few years, and loses the strength of its colouring so soon, that we have scarce time to admire it. I might embellish this subject with roses and rainbows, and several other ingenious conceits, which I may possibly reserve for another opportunity. There is a third consideration which I would likewise recommend to a demurrer, and that is the great danger of her falling in love when she is about threescore, if she cannot satisfy her doubts and scruples before that time. There is a kind of latter spring, that sometimes gets into the blood of an old woman, and turns her into a very odd sort of an animal. I would therefore have the demurrer consider what a strange figure she will make, if she chances to get over all difficulties, and comes to a final resolution, in that unseasonable part of her life. I would not, however, be understood by any thing I have here said, to discourage that natural modesty in the sex, which renders a retreat from the first approaches of a lover both fashionable and graceful all that I intend, is, to advise them, when they are prompted by reason and inclination, to demur only out of form, and so far as decency requires. A virtuous woman should reject the first offer of marriage, as a good man does that of a bishoprie; but I would advise neither the one nor the other to persist in refusing what they secretly approve. I would in this particu lar propose the example of Eve to all her daughters, as Milton has represented her in the following passage, which I cannot forbear transcribing entire, though only the twelve last lines are to my present purpose. |