And it is to be observed that the tailors of the poets are as generous as they are brave. Witness Vertigo in ‘The Maid in the Mill;’ the lords among whom he stands owe him money, and yet affect to have forgotten his name. One of them ventures, indeed, to hope that he has not come to press his claims; and what says this very pearl and quintessence of tailors? “Good faith, the least thought in my heart; your love, gentlemen, Your love’s enough for me. Money? hang money! Let me preserve your love!” Incomparable Vertigo! What a trade might he drive in London upon those terms! A waistcoat for a good opinion, a fashionable coat for esteem, and a full-dress suit to be paid for with the wearer’s love, in a promissory note made payable at sight! Vertigo understands the dignity of his profession; indeed, he wears a double dignity, for he is a “woman’s tailor,” as well as “man’s;” and when he is about to measure Florimel, how bravely does he bid the lords “stand out o’ th’ light!” How gallantly does he promise the lady when he swears—or asserts rather (for the tailors of the poets never swear,—that is, never swear profanely; they are like the nun in Chaucer, whose prettiest oath was but “by St. Eloy!”)—when he asserts then that she has “the neatest body in Spain this day;” and further, when Otrante, the Spanish Count, in love with Florimel, remarks that happily his wardrobe, with the tailor’s help, may fit her instantly, what self-dignity in the first line of the reply, and what philosophy in the second!— “If I fit her not, your wardrobe cannot; And if the fashion be not there, you mar her.” Ben Jonson does the trade full justice with regard to their possession of generosity; thus, in ‘Every Man Out of his Humour,’ Fungoso not only flatters the tailor who constructed his garment out of the money due for its fashioning, but he borrows some ready cash of him besides. Upon this hint did Sheridan often act; and thus posterity suffers through the vices as through the weaknesses of our ancestors. But the philosophical spirit of the true artistic tailor has been as little neglected by rare Ben, “the _Canary_-bird,” as the same artist’s generosity. The true philosophy of dress is to be found in a speech of Fashioner’s, in the ‘Staple of News,’ and which speech is in reply to the remark of young Pennyboy, that the new clothes he has on make him feel wittier than usual: “Believe it, Sir,” says Fashioner, “That clothes do much upon the wit, as weather Does on the brain; and thence, Sir, comes your proverb, _The tailor makes the man_. I speak by experience Of my own customers. I have had gallants, Both court and country would have fool’d you up, In a new suit, with the best wits in being, And kept their speed as long as their clothes lasted, Handsome and neat; but then as they grew out At the elbows again, or had a stain or spot, They have sunk most wretchedly.”