_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
I am very sorry to find by your Discourse upon the Eye, 1 that you
have not thoroughly studied the Nature and Force of that Part of a
beauteous Face. Had you ever been in Love, you would have said ten
thousand things, which it seems did not occur to you: Do but reflect
upon the Nonsense it makes Men talk, the Flames which it is said to
kindle, the Transport it raises, the Dejection it causes in the
bravest Men; and if you do believe those things are expressed to an
Extravagance, yet you will own, that the Influence of it is very great
which moves Men to that Extravagance. Certain it is, that the whole
Strength of the Mind is sometimes seated there; that a kind Look
imparts all, that a Years Discourse could give you, in one Moment.
What matters it what she says to you, see how she looks, is the
Language of all who know what Love is. When the Mind is thus summed up
and expressed in a Glance, did you never observe a sudden Joy arise in
the Countenance of a Lover? Did you never see the Attendance of Years
paid, over-paid in an Instant? You a SPECTATOR, and not know that the
Intelligence of Affection is carried on by the Eye only; that
Good-breeding has made the Tongue falsify the Heart, and act a Part of
continual Constraint, while Nature has preserved the Eyes to her self,
that she may not be disguised or misrepresented. The poor Bride can
give her Hand, and say, _I do_, with a languishing Air, to the Man she
is obliged by cruel Parents to take for mercenary Reasons, but at the
same Time she cannot look as if she loved; her Eye is full of Sorrow,
and Reluctance sits in a Tear, while the Offering of the Sacrifice is
performed in what we call the Marriage Ceremony. Do you never go to
Plays? Cannot you distinguish between the Eyes of those who go to see,
from those who come to be seen? I am a Woman turned of Thirty, and am
on the Observation a little; therefore if you or your Correspondent
had consulted me in your Discourse on the Eye, I could have told you
that the Eye of _Leonora_ is slyly watchful while it looks negligent:
she looks round her without the Help of the Glasses you speak of, and
yet seems to be employed on Objects directly before her. This Eye is
what affects Chance-medley, and on a sudden, as if it attended to
another thing, turns all its Charms against an Ogler. The Eye of
_Lusitania_ is an Instrument of premeditated Murder; but the Design
being visible, destroys the Execution of it; and with much more Beauty
than that of _Leonora_, it is not half so mischievous. There is a
brave Soldiers Daughter in Town, that by her Eye has been the Death
of more than ever her Father made fly before him. A beautiful Eye
makes Silence eloquent, a kind Eye makes Contradiction an Assent, an
enraged Eye makes Beauty deformed. This little Member gives Life to
every other Part about us, and I believe the Story of _Argus_ implies
no more than that the Eye is in every Part, that is to say, every
other Part would be mutilated, were not its Force represented more by
the Eye than even by it self. But this is Heathen _Greek_ to those who
have not conversed by Glances. This, Sir, is a Language in which there
can be no Deceit, nor can a Skilful Observer be imposed upon by Looks
even among Politicians and Courtiers. If you do me the Honour to print
this among your Speculations, I shall in my next make you a Present of
Secret History, by Translating all the Looks of the next Assembly of
Ladies and Gentlemen into Words, to adorn some future Paper. I am,
SIR, _Your faithful Friend_, Mary Heartfree.
_Dear Mr_. SPECTATOR,
I have a Sot of a Husband that lives a very scandalous Life, and
wastes away his Body and Fortune in Debaucheries; and is immoveable to
all the Arguments I can urge to him. I would gladly know whether in
some Cases a Cudgel may not be allowed as a good Figure of Speech, and
whether it may not be lawfully used by a Female Orator.
_Your humble Servant_,
Barbara Crabtree.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR, [2]
Though I am a Practitioner in the Law of some standing, and have heard
many eminent Pleaders in my Time, as well as other eloquent Speakers
of both Universities, yet I agree with you, that Women are better
qualified to succeed in Oratory than the Men, and believe this is to
be resolved into natural Causes. You have mentioned only the
Volubility of their Tongue; but what do you think of the silent
Flattery of their pretty Faces, and the Perswasion which even an
insipid Discourse carries with it when flowing from beautiful Lips, to
which it would be cruel to deny any thing? It is certain too, that
they are possessed of some Springs of Rhetorick which Men want, such
as Tears, fainting Fits, and the like, which I have seen employed upon
Occasion with good Success. You must know I am a plain Man and love my
Money; yet I have a Spouse who is so great an Orator in this Way, that
she draws from me what Sum she pleases. Every Room in my House is
furnished with Trophies of her Eloquence, rich Cabinets, Piles of
China, Japan Screens, and costly Jars; and if you were to come into my
great Parlour, you would fancy your self in an _India_ Ware-house:
Besides this she keeps a Squirrel, and I am doubly taxed to pay for
the China he breaks. She is seized with periodical Fits about the Time
of the Subscriptions to a new Opera, and is drowned in Tears after
having seen any Woman there in finer Cloaths than herself: These are
Arts of Perswasion purely Feminine, and which a tender Heart cannot
resist. What I would therefore desire of you, is, to prevail with your
Friend who has promised to dissect a Female Tongue, that he would at
the same time give us the Anatomy of a Female Eye, and explain the
Springs and Sluices which feed it with such ready Supplies of
Moisture; and likewise shew by what means, if possible, they may be
stopped at a reasonable Expence: Or, indeed, since there is something
so moving in the very Image of weeping Beauty, it would be worthy his
Art to provide, that these eloquent Drops may no more be lavished on
Trifles, or employed as Servants to their wayward Wills; but reserved
for serious Occasions in Life, to adorn generous Pity, true Penitence,
or real Sorrow.
I am, &c.