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Milton, and as I have drawn more quotations out of him than from any other, I shall enter into a regular criticism upon his Paradise Lost, which I shall publish every Saturday, 'till I have given my thoughts upon that poem. I shall not, however, presume to impose upon others my own particular judgment on this author, but only deliver it as my private opinion. Criticism is of a large extent, and every particular master in this art has his favourite passages in an author, which do not equally strike the best judges. It will be sufficient for me if I discover many beauties or imperfections which others have not attended to, and I should be very glad to see any of our eminent writers publish their discoveries on the same subject. In short, I would always be understood to write my papers of criticism in the spirit which Horace has expressed in those two famous lines;

Si quid novisti rectius istis,
Candidus imperti; si non, his utere mecum.

If you have made any better remarks of your own, communicate them with candour; if not, make use of these I present you with.

No. 265. THURSDAY, JANUARY 3.

Direrite multis aliquis, 2uid virus in angues
Adjicis P. et rabidae tradis ovile lupa o
OvID. De ART. AM.

ONE of the fathers, if I am rightly informed, has defined a woman to be too, pixexéonor, ‘An animal that delights in finery.' I have already treated of the sex in two or three papers, conformably to this definition, and have in particular observed, that in all ages they have been more careful than the men to adorn that part of the head, which we generally call the outside. This observation is so very notorious, that when in ordinary discourse we say a man has a fine head, a long head, or a good head, we express ourselves metaphorically, and speak in relation to his understanding; whereas when we say of a woman, she has a fine, a long, or a good head, we speak only in relation to her commode. It is observed among birds, that nature has lavished all her ornaments upon the male, who very often appears in a most beautiful head-dress; whether it be a crest, a comb, a tuft of feathers, or a natural little plume, erected like a kind of pinnacle on the very top of the head. As nature, on the contrary, has poured out her charms in the greatest abundance upon the female part of our species, so they are very assiduous ini bestowing upon themselves the finest garnitures of art. The peacock, in all his pride, does not display half the colours that appear in the garments of a British lady, when she is dressed either for a ball or a birth-day. But to return to our female heads. The ladies have been for some time in a kind of moulting season, with regard to that part of their dress, having cast great quantities of ribbon, lace, and cambric, and in some measure reduced that part of the human figure to the beautiful globular form which is natural to it. We have for a great while expected what kind of ornament would be substituted in the place of those antiquated commodes. But our female projectors were all the last summer so taken up with the improvement of their petticoats, that they had not time to attend to any thing else: but having at length sufficiently adorned their lower parts, they now begin to turn their thoughts upon the other extremity, as well remembering the old kitchen proverb, That if you light a fire at both ends, the middle will shift for itself. I am engaged in this speculation by a sight which I lately met with at the opera. As I was standing in the hinder part of the box, I took notice of a little cluster of women sitting together in the prettiest coloured hoods that I ever saw. One of them was blüe, another yellow, and another philomot;" the fourth was of a pink eolour, and the fifth of a pale green. I looked with as much pleasure upon this little party-coloured assembly, as upon a bed of tulips, and did not know at first whether it might not be an embassy of Indian queens; but upon my going about into the pit, and taking them in front, I was immediately undeceived, and saw so much beauty in every face, that I found them all to be English. Such eyes and lips, cheeks and foreheads, could be the growth of no other country. The complexion of their faces hindered me from observing any further the colour of their hoods, though I could easily perceive by that unspeakable satisfaction which appeared in their looks, that their own thoughts were wholly taken up on those pretty ornaments they wore upon their heads. I am informed that this fashion spreads daily, insomuch that the Whig and Tory ladies begin already to hang out different colours, and to shew their principles in their head-dress. Nay, if I may believe my friend Will Honeycomb, there is a certain old coquette of his acquaintance, who intends to appear very suddenly in a rainbow hood, like the Iris in Dryden's Virgil, not questioning but that among such a variety of colours she shall have a charm for every heart. My friend Will, who very much values himself upon his great insights into gallantry, tells me, that he can already guess at the humour a lady is in by her hood, as the courtiers of Morocco know the disposition of their present emperor by the colour of the dress which he puts on. When Melesinda wraps her head in flame colour, her heart is set upon execution. When she covers it with purple, I would not, says he, advise her lover to approach her; but if she appears in white, it is peace, and he may hand her out of her box with safety. Will informs me likewise, that these hoods may be

* But, began this sentence, and therefore can have no business here. One of them should be omitted: if the last, a new sentence should begin at this place. But, I think, the first had better been struck out.

* Philomot, a faint, brownish yellow, like that of a dead leaf. “. Feuille morte.”

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used as signals. Why else, says he, does Cornelia

always put on a black hood when her husband is gone

into the country
Such are my friend Honeycomb's dreams of gallantry.
For my own part, I impute this diversity of colours in
the hoods to the diversity of complexion in the faces of
my pretty country women. Ovid in his Art of Love,
has given some precepts as to this particular, though I
find they are different from those which prevail among
the moderns. He recommends a red striped silk to the
pale complexion; white to the brown, and dark to the
fair. On the contrary, my friend Will, who pretends
to be a greater master in this art than Ovid, tells me,
that the palest features look the most agreeable in white
sarcenet; that a face which is over-flushed, appears to
advantage in the deepest scarlet, and that the darkest
complexion is not a little alleviated by a black hood.
In short, he is for losing the colour of the face in that
of the hood, as a fire burns dimly, and a candle goes
half out, in the light of the sun. This, says he, your
Ovid himself has hinted, where he treats of these mat-
ters, when he tells us that the Blue Water-nymphs are
dressed in sky-coloured garments; and that Aurora,
who always appears in the light of the rising sun,
is robed in saffron.
Whether these his observations are justly grounded I
cannot tell: but I have often known him, as we have
stood together behind the ladies, praise or dispraise the
complexion of a face which he never saw, from observ-
ing the colour of her hood, and has been very seldom
out in these his guesses.
As I have nothing more at heart than the honour and
improvement of the fair sex, I cannot conclude this pa-
per without an exhortation to the British ladies, that
they would excel the women of all other nations as much
in virtue and good sense, as they do in beauty; which
they may certainly do, if they will be as industrious to
cultivate their minds, as they are to adorn their bodies,
in the mean while I shall recommend to their most seri-
ous consideration the saying of an old Greek poet,

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THERE" is nothing in nature more irksome than general discourses, especially when they turn chiefly upon words. For this reason I shall wave the discussion of that point which was started some years since, Whether Milton's Paradise Lost may be called an heroic poem? those who will not give it that title, may call it (if they please) a Divine Poem. It will be sufficient to its persection, if it has in it all the beauties of the highest kind of poetry; and as for those who alledge it is not an heroic poem, they advance no more to the diminution of it, than if they should say Adam is not Æneas, nor Eve, Helen. I shall therefore examine it by the rules of epic poetry, and see whether it falls short of the Iliad or AEneid, in the beauties which are essential to that kind of writing. The first thing to be considered in an epic poem, is the fable, which is perfect or imperfect, according as the action which it relates is more or less so. This action should have three qualifications in it. First, it should be but one action. Secondly, it should be an entire action; and thirdly, it should be a great action. To consider the action of the Iliad, AEneid, and Paradise Lost, in these three several lights. Homer, to preserve the unity of his action, hastens into the midst of things, as Horace has observed : had he gone up to Leda's egg, or begun much later, even at the rape of Helen, or the investing of Troy, it is manifest that the story of the poem would have been a series of several actions. He therefore opens his poem with the discord of his princes, and artfully interweaves, in the several suc

* These papers on Milton, being dictated by taste, and written with elegance, were extremely well received by the public, . It was taken for granted that these necessary qualities were, of themselves, sufficient to form a great critic.

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