and delights in it. When he finds them change colour, and say faintly they wish such a piece of news is true, he has the malice to speak some good or other of every man of their acquaintance.

The reliefs of the envious man are those little blemishes and imperfections that discover themselves in an illustrious character. It is a matter of great consolation to an envious person, when a man of known honour does a thing unworthy himself; or when any action which was well executed, upon better information appears so altered in its circumstances, that the fame of it is divided among many, instead of being attributed to one. This is a secret satisfaction to these malignants; for the person, whom before they could not but admire, they fancy is nearer their own condition as soon as his merit is shared among others. I remember, some years ago, there came out an excellent poem without the name of the author: the little wits, who were incapable of writing it, began to pull in pieces the supposed writer. When that would not do, they took great pains to suppress the opinion that it was his: that again failed. The next refuge was to say, it was overlooked by one man, and many pages wholly written by another. An honest fellow, who sat among a cluster of them in debate on this subject, cried out, "Gentlemen, if you are sure none "of you yourselves had an hand in it, you are but "where you were, whoever writ it." But the most usual succour to the envious, in cases of nameless merit of this kind, is to keep the property, if possible, unfixed, and by that means to hinder the reputation of it from falling upon any particular person. You see an envious man clear up his countenance, if, in the relation of any man's great happiness in one point, you mention his uneasiness in another: when he hears such a one is very rich he turns pale, but recovers when you add that he has many children. In a word,

the only sure way to an envious man's favour, is not to deserve it.

But if we consider the envious man in delight, it is like reading the seat of a giant in a romance; the magnificence of his house consists in the many limbs of men whom he has slain. If any who promised themselves success in any uncommon undertaking miscarry in the attempt, or he that aimed at what would have been useful and laudable, meets with contempt and derision, the envious man under the colour of hating vainglory, can smile with an inward wantonness of heart at the ill effect it may have upon an honest ambition for the future.

Having thoroughly considered the nature of this passion, I have made it my study to avoid the envy that may accrue to me from these my speculations; and if I am not mistaken in myself, I think I have a genius to escape it. Upon hearing in a coffee-house one of my papers commended, I immediately apprehended the envy that would spring from that applause, and therefore gave a description of my face the next day; being resolved, as I grow in reputation for wit, to resign my pretensions to beauty. This, I hope, may give some ease to those unhappy gentlemen who do me the honour to torment themselves upon the account of this my paper. As their case is very deplorable, and deserves compassion, I shall sometimes be dull, in pity to them; and will, from time to time, administer consolations to them, by further discoveries on my person. In the mean while, if any one says the Spectator has wit, it may be some relief to them to think that he does not shew it in company; and if any one praises his morality, they may comfort themselves by considering that his face is none of the longest.

R.

No. XX. FRIDAY, MARCH 23.

......κύτα όμματ' έχαν......

Ном.

POPE.

Thou dog in forehead!........

AMONG the other hardy undertakings which I have proposed to myself, that of the correction of impudence is what I have very much at heart. This, in a particular manner, is my province as Spectator; for it is generally an offence committed by the eyes, and that against such as the offenders would perhaps never have an opportunity of injuring any other way. The following letter is a complaint of a young lady, who sets forth a trespass of this kind with that command of herself as befits beauty and innocence, and yet with so much spirit as sufficiently expresses her indignation. The whole transaction is performed with the eyes; and the crime is no less than employing them in such a manner as to divert the eyes of others from the best use they can make of them, even looking up to heaven.

< SIR,

THERE never was, I believe, an acceptable man but had some awkward imitators. Ever since the 'Spectator appeared, have I remarked a kind of men, whom I choose to call Starers; that without any regard to time, place, or modesty, disturb a large company with their impertinent eyes. Spectators 'make up a proper assembly for a puppet-show or a bear-garden; but devout supplicants and attentive hearers are the audience one ought to expect in 'churches. I am, Sir, member of a small pious congregation, near one of the north gates of this city; ' much the greater part of us indeed are females, and ' used to behave ourselves in a regular attentive man-

6 ner, till very lately one whole aisle has been disturbed with one of these monstrous Starers: he's the head taller than any one in the church; but, for the greater advantage of exposing himself, stands 6 upon a hassoc, and commands the whole congrega'tion, to the great annoyance of the devoutest part of the auditory; for what with blushing, confusion, and vexation, we can neither mind the prayers nor sermon. Your animadversion upon this insolence 'would be a great favour to,

• Sir,

"Your most humble servant,

'S. C.'

I have frequently seen this sort of fellows, and do not think there can be a greater aggravation of an offence, than that it is committed where the criminal is protected by the sacredness of the place which he violates. Many reflections of this sort might be very justly made upon this kind of behaviour, but a Starer is not usually a person to be convinced by the reason of the thing; and a fellow that is capable of shewing an impudent front before a whole congregation, and can bear a public spectacle, is not so easily rebuked as to amend by admonitions. If therefore my correspondent does not inform me, that within seven days after this date the barbarian does not at least stand upon his own legs only, without an eminence, my friend, Will Prosper, has promised to take an hassoc opposite to him, and stare against him," in defence of the ladies. I have given him directions, according to the most exact rules of optics, to place himself in such a manner that he shall meet his eyes wherever he throws them; I have hopes that when Will confronts him, and all the ladies, in whose behalf he engages him, cast kind looks and wishes of success at their champion, he will have some shame, and feel a little

of the pain he has so often put others to, of being out of countenance.

It has indeed been time out of mind generally remarked, and as often lamented, that this family of Starers have infested public assemblies; and I know no other way to obviate so great an evil, except, in the case of fixing their eyes upon women, some male friend will take the part of such as are under the oppression of impudence, and encounter the eyes of the Starers wherever they meet them. While we suffer our women to be thus impudently attacked, they have no defence, but in the end to cast yielding glances at the Starers; and, in this case, a man who has no sense of shame has the same advantage over his mistress, as he who has no regard for his own life over his adversary. While the generality of the world are fettered by rules, and move by proper and just methods, he, who has no respect to any of them, carries away the reward due to that propriety of behaviour, with no other merit than that of having neglected it.

I take an impudent fellow to be a sort of outlaw in good-breeding, and therefore what is said of him no nation or person can be concerned for: for this reason, one may be free upon him. I have put myself to great pains in considering this prevailing quality which we call impudence, and have taken notice that it exerts itself in a different manner according to the different soils wherein such subjects of these dominions, as are masters of it, were born. Impudence in an Englishman is sullen and insolent; in a Scotchman it is untractable and rapacious; in an Irishman absurd and fawning: as the course of the world now runs, the impudent Englishman behaves like a surly landlord, the Scot like an ill-received guest, and the Irishman like a stranger who knows he is not welcome. There is seldom any thing entertaining either in the impudence of a South or North Britain; but that of an Irishman is always comic. A true and ge