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¢ó it, for it is the last you shall ever receive. I from “ this moment consider you as mine; and to make
you truly so, I give you my royal word you shall never be
greater or less than you are at present. Answer me not,” concluded the prince smiling, “but enjoy * the fortune I have put you in, which is above my
own condition; for you have hereafter nothing to “ hope or to fear."
His majesty having thus well chofen and bought a friend and companion, he enjoyed alternately all the pleasures of an agreeable private man and a great and powerful monarch; he gave himself, with his companion, the name of the merry tyrant; for he punished his courtiers for their insolence and folly, not by any act of public disfavour, but by humorously practising upon their imaginations. If he observed a man untractable to his inferiors, he would find an opportunity to take some favourable notice of him, and render him unsupportable. He knew all his own looks, words, and actions, had their interpretations; and his friend Monsieur Eucrate, for so he was called, having a great soul without ambition, he could communicate all his thoughts to him, and fear no artful use would be made of that freedom. It was no small delight when they were in private to reflect upon all which had paffed in public.
Pharamond would often, to satisfy a vain fool of power in his country, talk to him in a full court, and with one whisper make him despise all his old friends and acquaintance. He was come to that knowledge of men by long observation, that he would profess altering the whole mass of blood in some tempers by thrice speaking to them. As fortune was in his power, he gave himself constant entertainment in managing the mere followers of it with the treatment they deserved. He would, by a skilful cast of his eye and half a sinile, make two fellows who hated, embrace and fall upon each other's neck with as much eagerncís, as if they followed their real inclinations, and intended to stifle one another. When he was in high Ee
good-humour, he would lay the scene with Eucrate, and on a public night exercise the patlions of his whole
He was pleased to see an haughty beauty watch the looks of the man she had long despised, from obfervation of his being taken notice of by Paramond; and the lover conceive higher hopes, than to follow the woman he was dying for the day before. In a court, where men speak affection in the strongest terms, and dinike in the fainteít, it was a comical mixture of incidents to see disguises thrown aside in one case and increased on the other, according as favour or disgrace attended the respective objects of mens approbation or disesteem. Pharamond, in his mirth upon the meanness of mankind, used to say,
“ As he could take away a man's five senses, he could give him an hundred. “ The man in disgrace shall immediately lose all his « natural endowinents, and he that finds favour hare “ the attributes of an angel.” He would carry it so far as to say, “ It should not be only so in the opi“ nion of the lower part of his court, but the ma 6 themselves shall think thus meanly or greatly of " themselves, they are out, or in the good graces of a
A monarch, who had wit and humour like Pharamond, must have pleasures which no man else can ever have an opportunity of enjoying. He gave fortune to none but those whom he knew could receive it without transport: he made a noble and generous use of his observations; and did not regard his ministers as they were agreeable to him!elf, but as they were useful to his kingdom; by this means the king appcared in every officer of state; and no man had a participation of the power, who had not a fimilitude of the virtue of Pharamond.
No. LXXVII. TUESDAY, MAY 29.
Non convivere licet, nec urbe totâ
Who are so near, and yet so distant too ?
Y friend Will. Honeycomb is one of those fort of
men who are very often absent in conversation, and what the French call a reveur and a diftrait. А little before our club-time last night we were walking together in Somerset-garden, where Will. had picked up a small pebble of so odd a make, that he said he would present it to a friend of his, an eminent Virtuoso. After we had walked some time, I made a full stop with
my face towards the west, which Will. knowing to be my usual method of asking what's o'clock, in an afternoon, immediately pulled out his watch, and told me we had seven minutes good. We took a turn
two more, when to my great surprize, I saw him squir away his watch a considerable way into the
Thames, and with great sedateness in his looks put up the pel ble, he had before found, in his fob. As I have naturally an aversion to much speaking and do not love to be the messenger of ill news, especially when it comes too late to be useful, I left him to be convinced of his mistake in due time, and continued my walk, reflecting on these little absences and distractions in mankind, and resolving to make them the subject of a future speculation.
I was the more confirmed in my design, when I confidered that they were very often blemishes in the characters of men of excellent sense; and helped to keep up the reputation of that Latin proverb, which Mr. Dryden has translated in the following lines :
• Great wit to madness sure is near ally'd,
My reader does, I hope, perceive, that I distinguish a man who is absent, because he thinks of something else, from one who is absent, because he thinks of nothing at all: the latter is too innocent a creature to be taken notice of; but the distractions of the former may, I believe, be generally accounted for from one of these reasons.
Either their minds are wholly fixed on some particular science, which is often the case of mathematicians and other learned men; or are wholly taken up with some violent paflion, such as anger, fear, or love, which ties the mind to some distant object; or, lastly, these distractions proceed from a certain vivacity and fickleness in a man's temper, which while it raises up infinite numbers of ideas in the mind, is continually pushing it on, without allowing it to rest on any par. ticular image. Nothing therefore is more unnatural than the thoughts and conceptions of such a man, which are feldom occafioned either by the company he is in, or any of those objects which are placed before him, While you fancy he is admiring a beautiful woman, it is an even wager that he is folving a proposition in Euclid; and while you may imagine he is reading the Paris-Gazette, it is far from being impossible, that he is pulling down and rebuilding the front of his country. house.
At the same time that I am endeavouring to expose this weakness in others, I shall readily confess that I once laboured under the same infirmity myself. The method I took to conquer it was a firm resolution to learn something from whatever I was obliged to see or hear. There is a way of thinking, if a man can attain to it, by which he may strike somewhat out of any thing I can at present observe those starts of good fense and struggles of unimproved reason in the conversation of a clown, with as much fatisfaction as the most shining periods of the most finished orator; and can make a shift to command my attention at a Puppet. fhow or an Opera, as well as at Hamlet or Othello. I always make one of the company I am in; for though I
say little myself, my attention to others, and those nods of approbation which I never bestow unmerited, fufficiently ihew that I am among them. Whereas Will. Honeycomb, though a fellow of good sense, is every day doing and saying an hundred things which he afterwards confesses, with a well-bred frankness were somewhat mal à propos, and undesigned.
I chanced the other day to go into a coffee-house, where Will. was standing in the midst of several auditors whom he had gathered round him, and was giving them an account of the person and character of Moll Hinton. My appearance before him just put him, in mind of me, without making him reflect that I was actually present. So that keeping his eyes full upon me, to the great surprize of his audience, he broke off his first harangue, and proceeded thus:-“ Why now “ there's my friend,” mentioning me by name, “ he “ is a fellow that thinks a great deal, but never opens “ his mouth; I warrant you he is now thrusting his “ short face into some coffee-house about 'Change. I " was his bail in the time of the Popish-plot, when he
was taken up for a jesuit.” If he had looked on me a little longer, he had certainly described me so particularly, without ever considering what led him into it, that the whole company must necessarily have found me out; for which rcason, remembering the old proverb, • Out of sight out of mind,' I left the room; and, upon meeting him an hour afterwards, was asked by him, with a great deal of good-humour, in what part of the world I had lived, that he had not seen me these three days.
Monsieur Bruyere has given us the character of an abfent Man, with a great deal of humour, which he has pushed to an agreeable extravagance; with the heads of it I shall conclude my present paper.
• Menalcas,' says that excellent author, comes down • in a morning, opens his door to go out, but shuts it • again, because he perceives that he has his night-cap
on; and examining himself further finds that he is but • half-ihaved, that he has stuck his sword on his right