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this little breed, and hindering it from coming into fashion. If the fair sex look upon us with an eye of favour, we shall make some attempts to lengthen out the human figure, and restore it to its ancient procerity. In the mean time, we hope old age has not inclined you in favour of our antagonists, for I do assure you, sir, we are all your high admirers, tho' none more than
“Sir, Your's," &c.
No. 109. THURSDAY, JULY 16.
Pugnabat tunica sod tamen illa tegi.-OFID.
I have received many letters from persons of all conditions, in reference to my late discourse concerning the tucker. Some of them are filled with reproaches and invectives. A lady who subscribes herself Teraminta, bids me, in a very pert manner, mind my own affairs, and not pretend to meddle with their linen; for that they do not dress for an old fellow, who cannot see them without a pair of spectacles. Another, who calls herself Bubnelia, vents her passion in scurrilous terms; an old ninnyhammer, a dotard, a nincompoop, is the best language she can afford me. Florella, indeed, expostulates with me upon the subject, and only complains that she is forced to return a pair of stays which were made in the extremity of the fashion, that she might not be thought to encourage peeping.
But if, on the one side, I have been used ill, (the common fate of all reformers,) I have, on the other side, received great
Hindering it from coming. The two participles, here, have an ill effect. It had been better to bay—and by taking care that it may not come into fashion,
applauses and acknowledgments for what I have done, in having put a seasonable stop to this unaccountable humour of stripping, that was got among our British ladies. As I would much rather the world should know what is said to my praise, than to my disadvantage, I shall suppress what has been written to me by those who have reviled me on this occasion, and only publish those letters which approve my proceedings.
SIR, “I am to give you thanks in the name of half a dozen superannuated beauties, for your paper of the 6th instant. We all of us pass for women of fifty, and a man of your sense knows how many additional years are always to be thrown into female computations of this nature. We are very sensible that several young flirts about town had a design to cast us out of the fashionable world, and to leave us in the lurch by some of their late refinements. Two or three of them have been heard to say, that they would kill every old woman about town. In order to it, they began to throw off their clothes as fast as they could, and have played all those pranks which you have so seasonably taken notice of. We were forced to uncover after them, being unwilling to give out so soon, and be regarded as veterans in the beau monde. Some of us have already caught our deaths by it. For my own part, I have not been without a cold ever since this foolish fashion came up, I have followed it thus far with the hazard of my life, and how much further I must go nobody knows, if your paper does not bring us relief. You may assure yourself that all the antiquated necks about town are very much obliged to you. Whatever fires and flames are concealed in our bosoms (in which, per. haps, we vie with the youngest of the sex,) they are not sufficient to preserve us against the wind and weather. In taking so many old women under your care, you have been a real Guardian to us, and saved the life of many of your cotemporaries. In short, we all of us beg leave to subscribe ourselves,
“ Most venerable NESTOR, " Your most humble servants and sisters.":
I am very well pleased with this approbation of my good sisters. I must confess, I have always looked on the tucker to be the decus et tutamen," the ornament and defence of the female neck. My good old lady, the Lady Lizard, condemned this fashion from the beginning, and has observed to me, with some concern, that her sex, at the same time they are letting down their stays, are tucking up their petticoats, which grow shorter and shorter every day. The leg discovers itself in proportion with the neck. But I may possibly take another occasion of handling this extremity, it being my design to keep a watchful eye over every part of the female sex, and to regulate them from bead to foot. In the mean time, I shall fill up my paper with a letter which comes to me from another of my obliged correspondents.
“ DEAR GUARDEE, “This comes to you from one of those untuckered ladies whom you were so sharp upon on Monday was se'n-night. I think myself mightily beholden to you for the reprehension you then gave us.
You must know I am a famous olive beauty. But though this complexion makes a very good face, when there are a couple of black sparkling eyes set in it, it makes but a very indifferent neck. Your fair women, therefore, thought of this fashion, to insult the olives and the brunettes. They know very well that a neck of ivory does not make so fine a show as one of alabaster. It is for this reason, Mr. Ironside, that they are so lib. eral in their discoveries. We know very well, that a woman of
* The words milled on the larger silver and gold coins of England. — * the whitest neck in the world, is to you no more than a woman of snow; but Ovid, in Mr. Duke's translation of him, seems to look upon it with another eye, when he talks of Corinna, and mentions
Her heaving breast,
“ Women of my complexion ought to be more modest, especially since our faces debar us from all artificial whitenings. Could you examine many of these ladies, who present you with such beautiful snowy chests, you would find that they are not all of a piece. Good Father Nestor, do not let us alone till you have shortened our necks, and reduced them to their ancient standard. “I am your most obliged humble servant,
I shall have a just regard to Olivia's remonstrance, though, at the same time, I cannot but observe, that her modesty seems to be entirely the result of her complexion.
No. 110. FRIDAY, JULY 17.
Non ego paucis
The candour which Horace shows in the motto of my paper, is that which distinguishes a critic from a caviller. He declares that he is not offended with those little faults in a poetical composition, which may be imputed to inadvertency, or to the imperfection of human nature. The truth of it is, there can be no
more a perfect work in the world, than a perfect man.
For this reason,
“Our tragedy writers have been notoriously defective in giving proper sentiments to the persons they introduce. Nothing is more common than to hear an heathen talking of angels and devils, the joys of heaven and the pains of hell, according to the christian system. Lee's Alcander discovers himself to be a Cartesian in the first page of Edipus.
- The sun's sick too, Shortly he'll be an earth
" As Dryden's Cleomenes is acquainted with the Copernican hy. pothesis two thousand years before its invention.
I am pleas'd with my own work; Jove was not more
· The tragedy of Cato, without doubt.