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1 2 3

pxDi^^q

TnHLt/}t'd Jan^. l6,iyQO. hy JlFowrr A' I'o. J^J'iii/j' fhmrh Jiird.

THE

i B

E R

B y

The AUTHOR of the RAMBLER.
INTWO VOLUMES.

THE FIFTH EDITION.

WITH

ADDITIONAL ESSAYS.

VOLUME IL

«c

Duplex Hhelli Co$ eft, qnod rifiim move%
*• Et quod prudenti vitam confilio monei."

Pu^DRUt*

LONDON:

Printed for J. Rivington and Sons, and F. Power,
in St.PauPs Church Yard; T- Pavme and Son,
Mews Gate j T. Cadell, in the Strand ;
J. Nichols, Red Lion Paffage, Fleet - Street ,•
and S. Hayes, Oxford Street.

MDCCXC.

W^m\ tnv,f<3V«^MH3T^AW3»4

m»~mMm*%n

■ «^*<ftj

iWw ii i wa tSif URf ¥&il9ii i T LHHIPH^

C O N T EN r S

G P

VOLUME the SECOND.

N.'

53. JI4ISCHIEFS of good Company,

54. ^^-^ Mrs, Savecharces's CotH'
plaint^

5.5. Aitihor's Mortifications^
^6, Virtuofos whimficaly

57. Chara£ier of Soph a on the Prudent y

58. Expe^ations sf Pleafure fruftrated^

59. Books fall into negle£fy,
60.. Mvniu the Critick^

61. Mis IM the Critick,

62. Rangfr's Jccount of th Vanity of

Riches,

63. Progre/s of Arts and Language^

64. Ranger's Complaint concluded^

65. Fate of Pojlhumous Works,
^^* Lofs^^ of ancient Writings,,

67. Scholar's Journal,

68. Hijiory of JranJIations,.

69. Hijioryof Tranflations,

70. Hard Words defended,

71. Dick Shifter's rural Excurjton^

72. Regulation of Memory,

J3* TRAijqviL'sUfeofRicbesr

74. Memory rarely deficient,

75. Gelaleddin ^Baflbra^'

76. /^tf^ Criticifms on Painting,.

77. Eafy. Writing,

78. Steady, Snug, Startle, So-

LID, and Misty,
^91. <?rtfiMf 6/y/p 2/- Painting^.

T
1%

21
26

4&
Sa

6e
64

7»
75>
79
83
9P
94
98
ro2

ro7
ii«

ii4

122;

N°8q-

■*^

C O N T E N

T &

N" go. Lattifs Jourmy ta Londbn^ Page n&
oi. Indian's Spetcb to his Ceuntrymtn, i qk
Sa. T64 trui idta of Beauty, 1%^

^3. Scruple, Wormwood^ Stur-

DY, andGElS^TLE, 14-1

»4, Biography how beji performed^ 145

»5. Boohmuhiptiedhy-afriifs Compilattom^ 149
86, i^/S Heartless's i5^<i»/ ^^ «

Lodgings
•7* -^matconian Bravery revhidf

89- Phyfita I Evil moral Good,
90r Rhetorical A£iion confidered.

I5T

169

91. Sufficiency of the English Language^ 173.

92. hluture of Ctmning^y I^^

93 . Sam Softl v's Htftmryy 1 8 a^

94. Obftru£fiom of Learning, 1^^
f5r Tim Wainscot's ^imi a^ Gen^

tleman,. 189^

S|6. Hacho of Lapland; 194

97. Aarratives of Travellers eot^dered, 19^$

98. Sophia Heedful, 202
99^ Ortogrul ef fiafrai . 205

100. The Good Sort ofl^oman,. 809

loi. Omak*s Plan of Life, 214

102. yftuhors inattentive to then^ehes,. 218

J03. Horrour of the Laft, 222

ADDITIONAL ESSAYS,

Effay on Epitaphs,. 229

suffer tation on the Epitaphs written by Pop E , 242
Mravery of the English Cmmn Soldiers, 263

I t

###^#######11

"^^^^^^

# * « #

THE

I D

L E R.

Numb. 53. Saturday, jfprii 21, 1

759^

r<» the IDLE k.

Sir,

I HAVE a Wife that keeps good Company;
You know that the word Good varies its
meaning according to the value fet upoa
different quahties in different places. To be 3
Good Man in a College, is to be learned ; hi
a Lamp to be brave ; and in the City,' to be
rich. By Good Company, in the place which
I have the misfortune to inhabit, we underfland
not only thofe from whom any good can be
learned, whetlier Wifdom or Virtue; or by

Vol. II.

whom

!■■ ! ■■

■ f ■

« ' ^ THE IDLER. K' s3*

w<hom any good can be conferred, whether Profit
or Reputation. Good Company is the company
of-thofe whofc Birth is high, and whofcs Riches
are great, or of thofe whom the Rich and Noble
admit to familiarity.

I am a Gentleman of a fortune by no means
exuberant, but more than equal to the wants
of my family, and for fomc years equal to our
delifes.' My Wife, who had never been accuf-
tomed to fplendour^ joined her endeavours to
Bilne in the fupcrintendence of our oeconomy ;
we lived in decent plenty, and were not excluded
from moderate pieafures. ^

But flight caufes produce great effects. All
my liappinefs has been deftroyed by change of
place; Virtue is too often merely local; in
fome ifituations the air difeafes the body, and in
others poifons the mind- Being obliged to re-
move my habitation, I was led by my. evil ge-
nius to a convenient houfe in a ftreet where
many of the Nobility refide. We had fcarcely
ranged our furniture, and aired our rooms,
when my Wife began to grow difcontented, and
to wonder what the neighbours would think
when they faw fo few chairs and chariots at her

door.

Her acquaintance who came to fee her from the

quarter that w« had left, mortified her without

deiign, by continual enquiries about the Ladies

wjiofe lioufes they viewed from our windows.

2 She

N'53. THE IDLER. ,

She was afliamcd to confcTs that Ihe had no in*
tcrcourfc with them, and Jhehcrcd her diftrefs
under general anfvveis, which always tended to
rajfe fufpicion that (he knew more than flic
would tell ; but flie was often reduced to diffi-
culties, when the courfe of talk introduced qucf-
tions about the furniture or ornaments of their
houfes, which, when flie could get no intelli-
gence, flic was forced to pafs flightly over, a$
things which Ihc faw fo often that flie never
minded them.

To all thefe vexations ihc was refolved to
put an end, and redoubled her vifits to thofe
few of her friends, who vifit^d thofc who kept
Good Company ; and, if ever ihc met a Lady
of Qiiality, forced herfelfinto notice by refped
and affiduity. Her advances were generally re-
jected ; and flie heard them, as they went down
fliars, talk how feme creatures put thcmfclvcs
forward. .

She was not difcou raged, but crept forward
from one to another ; and, as perfeverancc will
do great things, fappcd her way unperceived, till,
unexpeaedly, flie appeared at the Card-table of
Lady Biddy Porpoi/e, a lethargick Virgin of
feventy-flx, whom all the families in the next
fquarc vifited very pundually when llic was not
at homci

This was the firft flep of that elevation to
which my wife has fince afcended. For five

^ 2 months

4t THE IDLER. N" 53,

months (he had no name in her month but
tliat of Lady Biddy, who, let tlic world fay what
it would, had a fine underftanding, and fuch t
command of her temper, that, whether Ihc won
or loft, ftie flcpt over her cards.

y\t Lady Bidd/s fhe met with Lady Taivdry,
Whofc favour fhe gained by cftimating her ear-
rings, which were counterfeit, at twice the value
of real diamonds. When (he had once entered
two houfcs of dilHnftion, fhe was eallly admit-
ted into more, and in ten weeks had all her
time anticipated by parties and engigcmcnts.
Every morning ihc is befpoke, in the fum-
mer, for the gardens ; in the winter, for a
fale ; every afternoon fhe has vifits to pay, and
every night brings an inviolable appointment,
or 1 Aflembly in which the bell company in
the .own were to appear.

You will cafily imagine that much of my
domeftick company is withdrawn. I never fee
xuy wife but in the hurry of preparation, or the
languor of wearinefs. To drefs and to undrefs
is almoft her whole bufinefs in private ; and the
fervants take advantage of her negligence to
increafe expencc. But I can fupply her oraif-
iions by my own diligence, and fliould not
much regret this new courfe ofhfe, if it did
nothing more than transfer to me the care of
our accounts. Ihe changes which k has

madcf

N«53- THE IDLER. g

made arc more vexatious. My Wife hnn no
longer the ufe of her nnderftanding. Mic hat
i\o rule of aaion but the fafliion. She has no
opinion but that of the people of quality. Slie
has no language but the dialed of her own fct
of company. She hates and admires in humblff
imitation j and echoes the word charming and
dcttjiabli without confulting her owa percep-
tions.

If for a few minutes we fit downr together,
flic entertains me with the repartees of Lady
Cackle, or the converfation of Lord IVh'tffler and
Mifs Slu'ick ; and wonders to find me receiving
with indifFeience fayings which put all the com-
pany into laughter.

By her old friends (he is no longer very
willing to be feen, but Ihe muft not rid herfelf
©f them all at once ; and is fometimes furpriz-
cd by her bcft vifitants in company which fhc
would not ftiew, and cannot hide ; but from
the moment that a Countefs enters, Ihe takes
care neither to hear nor fee them ; they fooii
find themfelves neglefted and retire, and fhe
tells her Ladyfhip that they arc fomehow re-
lated at a great diftance, and that, as they are
good fort of people, fhe cannot be rude to
them.

As by this ambitious union with thofe that
arc above her^ Ihc is always forced upon dif-

B 3 advan-

THE IDLEK.

53-

advantageous comparifons of her condition with
theirs, Ihe has a conlUntfourcc of niiiery with-
in ; and never returns from glhtering Aflem-
l>lies and magnificent Apartments but fhc growls
out her difcon-tent, and wonders why flie was
doomed to fo indigent a ftate. When flic at-
tends the Duchefs to a fale, Ihe always fees
Ibmething that Ihe cannot buy ; and, that ftie
may not feem wholly inlignificant, flie will
iametimes venture to bid, and often makes ac-
quifitions which (he did not want at prices which
ihe cannot afford.

What adds to all this uneafinefs is, that this
expence is without ufe, and this vanity without
honour ; Ihe forfakes houfes where (he might
b« courted, for thofe where (he is only fufFcred ;
her equals are daily made her enemies, and, Ijcr
fuperiors will never be htr friends.
I am, Sir, yours, 6cc*

NuMiS^

N- 54.

THb IDLER.

Numb. 54. Satorday, Jpril 28, ij^^.

To the IDLE R.

Sir,

YOU ha^e lately entertained your admi-
rers with the cafe of an unfortunate
Hulband, and thereby given a demonftrative
proof you are not averfc even to hear Appeals,
and terminate Differences between Man and
Wife ; I therefore take the liberty to prefent
you with the Cafe of an injured Lady, which,
as it chiefly relates to what I think the Lawyers
call a Point of Law, I Ihall do in as juridical a-
manner as I am capable, and fubmit it to the
confideration of the lear.ned Gentlemen of that
Profeflion.

Imprimis, In the ftyle of my marriage Arti-
cles, a Marriage was had and foUmni%ed^ about
fix months ago, between me and Mr. Savtcharges,
a Gentleman poflefled of a plentiful fortune of
his own, and one who, I was perfuaded, would
improve, and not fpend mine.

Before our marriage Mr. Savecharggs had all
along preferred the falutary exercife of walking

, on foot, to the diftempered eafe, as be terms it,
of lolling in a chariot : but notwithftanding his
fine pancgyricks on walking, the great advan-

, ^4 tage;j

THE IDLER.

tt^s the inftntry weris in U,e fole pofleffion of

tound I had very different notions of an Equi-
page, and was not eafily to be conver^ef or
gained over to his party. ^

whtnev« f''"^'- \ "": <J«="nined to have,
^r^ r """'• ^ '°° ^'" knew the dif
pofition of my intended confort, to leave the
prttviding one enfirely to his honour and fll/
termyfelf Mr. .».„*.,,„ ,,,, inle "a i"

made previous to our marriage, «fmi ,, ^'
^^ - C^ci ; but left I ftould be4i4^„ ^
the attornies-ihotild hot have done me^iuVI

Crrutmt,t'K«'*^''t« *"■' "^^^

Wordsj I *,ii fct tbout and trahfcfibe that D»t

terw you math better<han can be done by one
*ho .,- fo^tfeeply intenftedin the event faiS

•SL°f" ?i!""*"'°" I b«U my hopes of
teteg foon Hinder' the tnmfporting. delfehtful
^ deno«inatibn of , faftibrtable L%, JS e„.

.' Sl.IJ^*''^'' ?''•' ■«*^''-*»*^W^««city of
'fcdWlih|rabttutiiiliero*rnCbadi.

"And. ftrther, the-faid SoUmo^ Sav,charg„,

•«-£Lr" S"*"* ^Of" "nd confiderations
« hll'" "^'"5' ''^'"'Breed. and doth

f**rr« feall and will, fo foon as convenient-
iflteaded Marrage, at his o*rn proper coft

9&UU

N*^54. THE lOtSR. vi^

** aitd charges, find and provido aai^taimMkMtk
** erfiur^wheil carfhtgi^ conumnfycutted^r known
^* by thinam0 of a ClP«fi& ; which^ftid Vehicle or
•* wheel. carriage, fo called of known* by the
" name of a Coach/? ihaE be mfed 4tndenJ9yid Yfy
"the faid ^wio* MoAJh, his irttended'iWife,*'
[pray mind that, Mr. ) /j//^r] u. at fuch time*
**andin fuch manner as ihe, Afe i^M' 5W<;'-i>/»*
" 4iijh, fliaH think fit and cotwcniertt.'*

Sudi, Mr, Idlery is the agreement my fUffiok^
ate Admirer enterfed into; aiid What 'the i^«r
frugal Hujband calls a performance of it remains^
to bedefcribcd. Soon^ after the ceiietoony ^f
%ning and fealing was over, i burs: wftd^g-
eloaths being fent home, ahd^iin il*drt,< ^vdy
thing in rcadiiiefs except rtie Go^cl>i my oW»
Ihadow was feared more coiiftant than mypaf*
fionate Lover in his attendanceon tne. We^f^d
by his perpetual iraportunkies for vi^at^ he
called a completion of his blifs, I c^nfentedio
make hira^ happy ; in a> few days. I gave him mf
hand,, andj attended: by Hymen m his fafFron-
robes, retired to a country-ieat of my htjd)andfs^
where the Honey-moort flew over our heads ere
we hadtititt tarecollea ourfelves, or think of*
our engagements in town^. Well, to- town ^e
came, and you may be fure. Sir, I expcded t©
ftep into m.y Coach on my arrival here ; bbt
what was my furpriz^and difappointmeiK, vthen^.
inllead of Oiis^ be began to found in my ears^

'IIP

*i'

tw THE IDLER. .N's^.

"That the intcreft of money wai low, very
low ; and what a terrible thing it was to be in-
cumbered with a little regiment of fervantff in
thefe hard times I" I could eafily perceive wlwt
all this tended to, but would not fcem to un-
dcrftand him ; which made it highly neccffkry
for Mr. Savithargit to explain himfelf more
intelligibly; to harp upon and proteft he
dreaded the expence of keeping a Coach. And,
truly, for his part, he could not conceive how
the plcafure refulting from fuch a convenience
i could be any way adequate to the heavy expence
^attending it. I now thought it high time to fpeak
• with equal plainncfs, and tol4Jiinii, as thefor-
V tune I brought fairly entitled m« toride fn my own ..
Coacl^ and; as I was fcnfible his circumllances
wouidvcry welliaffordit, he muft pardon me
^ if I infifted on a, performance of hi« Ugrcement.

I,ap|^,to you, Mr.Mtfr, whether any thiag

covld be more, civile, more complaifant, than

^ Ihi*-^ And. (would yau,believe,it?) the creature

in rttuniv a few days after, accofted«ie-in an.

©fl5fi>4cd tone, with, " Madam^ Lcannowttil

<^ you your Coa«h is ready; and fiijce you are

♦Vfo. paflionaiely fond of one,. I intend jyou the

, ^* honouf of keeping a p»ir of hatTcs.— You

?;*« infiftcd upon having anartlde of Pin-money ;

• •« and HoKfes are no part of my agreement.'*

Bafe, defigfitng wretch!— I beg your pardon,

Mr. /4^/^r,.the,.very recitarof fuch mean>, un-

gmtlcman-like behayiour fires my blood, and

iigh

.N^ 54.

THE IDLER.

lights up a flame within me. But hence, thou «
woril of monftcrs, ill-timed Rage, and let me
not fpoil my caufc for want of temper.

Now though 1 am convinced 1 might make
a worfc ufe of part of the Pin-money, than by
extending my bounty towards the fupport of fo '
ufefula part of the brute creation ; yet, like a
true-born Englifliwoman, I am fo tenacious of
my rights and privileges, and moreover fo good
a friend to the Gentlemen of the Law, that I
proteft, Mr. Wr, fooner than tamely give vp
tlie point, and be qi^ibbled out of my riglit, I
will receive my Pin-money, as it were, with
one hand, and pay it to them with the other ;
provided they will give me,' or, which4s the
fame thing, my Truftees, encouragement to
commence a fuit ag^irtft < this dear frugal Huf-
bandofmino.

Ahd of this I can't have the leaft (hadow of
doubt, inafmuch as I have been told by veiy
good autliority, it isi fome way or, other laid
down as a rule, ^*', ''* That . f^ henever the Law
" doth give any thing to one, it givcth impli-
•* edly whatever is neceflary for the taking and
. ** enjoying the fame.** Novv I would gladly
know what enjoyment I, or any Lady in the
kingdom^' can have of a coach without horfes ?
The anfwer is obvious — None at all! Foras
Serj, C<sf/^fltf very wifely obferves, *' Though a

* Coke on Littleton.

B 6-

cjacn

:: }

;« THE IDLER. ,19.3^

*• eeic^Tias- wheels, to' the end if n»afth««by
and by virtue the«o^ be enibled tb niove '

'"loS-^T "^""^'l '"^y^ ''=» have

ofits vital parts, that is, the hd.fes."

Andthtrtfore. Sir, I hnttbly hope you ,„d

the learned m the Law will be of opinion, that

iwo certain animals, or quadruped creatures,

commonly -called or known by the name of

ffilecfhr'*'"""''^''^'-*^--^

SUKEY SAVE<iM!lARGES,

^■idi

. ' TV jfh IDLER.

*MR.IbL<t,

'T HAVE taken the liberty of laying bfefore
X. you^my complaint, and of dcfiring advice
or cohfolation, with the greater confidence,
becaufe I believe tnany other Writers have
luffered the fame indignities with myfelf, and
lK)pe ^y quarrerwiU be regarded by you and
your Readers a& jflje commoa caufe of Lite-
jaturct

Having

N^^S- THE IDLER. i^

Having htet\ long a Student, I thouglit
myfclf qualified in time to become an Author.
My enquiries have been "much diveriified, and
far extended ; and not finding my geniuy di-
re£<:ing me by irrefiftible impulfe to any parti-
cular fubje£l, I deliberated three years which
part of knowledge to iJiuftrate by my labours.
Choice is more often determined by accident
than by rcafon : I walked abroad one morning
with a curious Lady, and by her enquiries and
obfervations was incited to write the Natural
Hiftory of the County in which I refide.

Natural Hiftory is no work for one that loves
his chair or his bed. Speculation may be ptir-
fued on a foft couch, but nature muft be ob-
fcrved in the open air. I have collefted ma-
terials with indefatigable pertinacity. I have
gathered glow-worms in the evening, and fnails
in the morning ; I have feen the daify clofe and
open ; I have heard the owl fhtiek at midnight,
and hunted infe£ls in the heat of noon.

Seven years I was employed in colle^ing
Animals and Vegetables, and then found tliat
my defign was yet imperfea. The fubterranean
treafure5 of the place had been paflcd unobferved,
and another year was to be fpeni in Mines and
Coal-pits. What I had already done fupplied a .
fufficient motive to do more. I acquainted my-
felf with the black inhabitants of metallic caverns,
aiid, in defiance of damps and floods, wandered .

through

THE IDLER.

14: inc. iUL,Kits,» iN'55;

throagh the gloomy labyrinths, and gathered
Poffils from every fiflure.

At laft I began to write, and as I iini(hed any

• fe£tion of my booK, read it tofuch of my
friends as were moft ikilful in the matter which

; it treated. None of them iwere fatisiied ; one
didiked the difpofition of the parts, another the

: colours of ihe ftyle ; one advifed me. to enlarge,
another to abridge^ 1 refolved to read no mgr^,
but to take my own way and write on, for .by

: confultation I only perplexed my thoughts and
Retarded my work.
The Book was at-laft finilhed, and I did not

' doubt but my labour would be repaid by profit,
and my ambi-tion fatisfied with honours. I

• confidered that Natural Hiftory is - neither tiem-
' porary nor local, and that though I limited, ray

Enquiries to my own County, yet every part of
; the earth has productions common to aU the reft.
Civil Hiftory may be partially ftudied, the revo-
lutions of one nation may be negleftcd by ano-
■ theri but) after that in which all have an intereft,
' all muil be. iiiquifitive. No man can have funk
fo far into ftupidity as not to confider the pro-
perties of the ground on which h© walks, of the
plants o?i which he feeds, or the animals that
delight his ear or amufe his eve ; and therefore
licomputed that univerfal curiofity would call
. for many editions of my Book,, and that i\\ five

y^ars

I [ i.'iitii

K*5^. THE IDLER. ; tS\

years I (hould gain fifteen thoufand pounds by /
the fale of thirty thoufand copies;

When i began to write 1 infurcd the houfe,
and fufFcrcd the utmoft folicitude when I cn-
truiled roy book' to the Carrier, though I had;
fecured it againft' mifchanccs: by. lodging two
tranfcripts in -■ different places. At-my arrival^
I expc^ed that the patrons of learning would
contend for die lionour of a Dedication, and
refolved to maintain the dignity of letters, by a
^ haughty contempt of pecuniary folicitations.?,

I took lodgings near thchoufeofthc Royal.
, Society, and expeaed;e\ery morning a vifit
from the Prefident. I walked in the Park, and •■
wondered that 'I overheard no mention of the
. great Naturalift. At lad I vifited a Noble Earl,
and told him of' my Work; hcanfwcied, that
he was under an engagement- never to fubfci^ibe.
Iwas angry tahave that refuied which 1 did not
. mean to alk, andconcealed my defiga of making
him immortak I went next day to anothejr,
. and, in refentment of my latp affront, offered to
prefix his name to my New- Book'. He faid,
coldly, tl*atr he^ did mi imderJinrtdHhofe things ; ano -
ther thouglit thtre were too many Books ; and ano-
ther would t£>ik with me when the Racei were over.
Being amazed to find a Mail of Learning fo
indecently flighted, I refolved to indulgcvtiie
pliilofophieal pride of retirement and indepen-
.. dence. I then fent to. fome. of the. principal

Book^

?16 THE IDLER. N*^^^.

Bookfcilcrs the pUn of my Book, and befpokc
a large room in the next tavern, that I might
more commodioufly fee them together, and en-
joy the comeft, whil© they were outbidding
one another, 1 drank my coffee, and yet no-
' body was come ; at laft I received a note from
' one, to tell me, that he wai going out of town ;,
• and from another, tlut Natural Hiftory was
out of his way ; at lall there came a grave man,
who defired to fee the Work, and, without
opening it, told me, that a Book of that fize
would nevtr do»

1 then condefcended to ftep into fhops, and

' mention my Work to the Maftcrs. Some neyer

dealt with Authors ; others had their hands

full : fome never had known fuch a dead time ;

otlicrs had loft by all that they had publilhed

for the laft twelvemonth. One offered to print

^ my Work, if I could procure Subfcriptions for

?^live hundred, and would allow me two hundred

copies for my property. I loft my patience,

and ^ave him a kick, for which he has indited

' me* ,

I can eafily perceive, that there is a combina-
tion among them to defeat my expeftations ;
and I find it fo general, that I am fure it muft
have been long concerted. I fuppofc fome of
my friends, to whom 1 read the firft part, gaVe
notice of my dcfign, and, perhaps, fold the
treacherous intehigencc at a higher price than
i thfr

N^55. THE IDLER. 17

tlic fraudulcncc of Trade will now allow me for
my Book.

Inform me, Mr. Idler, what I muft do;
where muft Knowledge and Induftry find their
iccompcnce, thus neglected by the High, and
cheated by the Low ? I fon.etimes refolve to
print ray Book at my own cxpencc, and, like
the Sibyl, double the price ; and fomctimcs^anl
tempted, in emulation of Ra/cight to throw it
into the fire, and leave this fordid generation to
the curfes of pofterity. Tell me, dear Idltr,
wh«t I (hall do.

I am, Sir, &c.

Numb. 56. Saturday, May 21 ^ ^759*

THERE is fuch difference between the
purfuits of men, that one part of the in-
habitants of a great city lives to little other
purpofe than to wonder at the reft. Some
have hdpes and fears, wifhes and averfions,
which never enter into the thoughts of others,
and enquiry is laborioufly exerted to gain that

which tliofe who poffcfs it are ready to throw
away.

To thofe who are accuftomed to value every
tiling by its ufe, and have no fuch fuoerfluitv

I i

i I

' 111

i8 THE IDLER. - f^o ^^^

of time or money as may prompt them to un-
natural warns or cipricious emulations, nothing
appears more improbable or extravagant than
ihc love of Curiofities, or that defirc of accu-
mulating trifles, which dillinguifhes many ty
whom no other diftin£\ion could have ever been
obtained.

He that ha«s lived without knowing to whnt
height dcfire may be raifed by vanity, with
what rapture baubles are fnatched out of tLc
hands of rival collc£lors, how the cagerncfs of|
one raifes eagcmefs in another, and one worth*
lefs purchafe makes a fecond ncceflary, may, by|
paffing a few hours at an auftion, learn morcj
than can be Ihewiv by many volumes of Maxims
QT ElTays*.

The Advertifement of a Sale is a (ignal whichl
at once puis a« thoufand hearts in motion^ and I
brings contenders from every part to the fcene
of diftribution.. He that had refolved.to buy no
more, feels his conftancy fubdued ; there is now!
fomething in tlie Catalogue wl ich completes
his Cabinet, and which he was never before able!
to find.. He whofefober reiie«£l' s lafcrm him,
that of adding coiledion to co' • ■ there
no end, and. that it is wife to leave early that
which muft be.Ie/t impcrfeft at laft, yet cannot
with^hold himfelf from coming to fee what it is
that brings (o many together, and when he
cr^^^ies 15 loan overpowered by his habitual paf-

NV 5f>,

THE IDLER.

;d out of tlic

lion ; he is attra£led by rarity, leduccd by ck*
ample, and inflamed by competition.

VVhilc the ftores of Pride and Happincfs luc
furveycd, one looks with longing eyes aud
gloomy countenance on that which he defpairs
to gain from a richer bidder; another keeps his
eye with care from fettling too long on that
Arhich LiC mod earneflly defires ; an<i another,
wlia more art than virtue, depreciates that
which he values mofV, in liope to have it at an
eafy rate.

The novice is often furprized to fee what mi-
nute and unimportant difcriminatlons mcreafe
or diminifh value. An irregular contortion of
a turbinated Ihell, which common eyes pafs un-
regarded., will ten times treble its price in the
imagination of philofophers. Beauty is far from^
operating upon colle6^ors as upon low and vul-
gar minds, even where beauty might be thought
the only quality that could deferve notice.
Among the Ihe^s that pleafe by tlieir variety of
colours, if on^ can be found accidentally de-
formed by a cloudy fpot, it is boafted as the pride
of the CoUedion. China is fometimes purchafed,
for little lefs than its weight in gold, only be-
caufe it is old, though neither lefs brittle, nor
better painted than the modern ; and brown
China is caught up with extafy, though no rea-
fon can bn imagined for whicli it. Ihould be pre-,
i fcrred to comraou Y.elT^h of.cpnamQn clay.

The.

':l;illl
lilllll"

[ I

ill

N!i.i

^G THE IDLER. N"56.

The fate of Prints and Coins is equally inex-
plicable. Sonie Prin's are treafured up as in-
clUmably valuable, becaiife tire imprellion was
made before the Plate was finifhed. Of Coins
the prifc rifes not from the purity of the metal^
the excellence of the workmanfbipy the elegance
cf the legend, or the chronological ufe. A
piece, of which neither the infcription can be
read, nor the fece diftinguillied, if there remain
of it but enough to Ihew that it is rare, will be
fought by contending natidns, and dignify the
f reafury in which it fhall be ihewn.

Whether this curioflty, fo barren of irame>-
diaie advantage, and fa liable to depravation,,
does more harm or good, is not eafily decided.
Its harm is apparent at th^ firft view. It fills the
mind with trifling ambition ; fixes the atten-
tion upon things which, have feldom any ten-
dency towards virtue or wifdom ; employs iii
idle inquiries the time that is given for better
p'-rpofes ; and often ends in mean and difhoneft
pjaftices, when defire increafes by indulgence
beyond the power of honeft gratification.

Thefe are the effefts of curiofity in excefs ;
but what paflion in excefs will not become vici-
ous ? All indifferent qualities and pra£lices are
bad if they arc compared with thofe which are
good, and good if they are oppofed to thofe that
are bad. The pride or tHe plcafure of making
Collections, if it he rcflraincd by prudence and

morality.

THE IDLER.

morality, produces a pleafing rcmlffion after

more laborious lludies ; furnifties an amufe-
Imcnt not wholly unprofitable for that part of
[life, the greater part of many lives, which wouk^
[otherwife be loll in idlenefs or vice ; it produces
Ian uieful traffick between the induflry of indi-
jgence and the curiofity of wealth ; it brings many
I things to notice that would be neglected; and

by -fixing th^ thoughts upon intelleftual plea-
Ifures, relifts the natural encroachments of {en<'

fuality, and maintains the mind in l\tr lawful
Ifuperiority.

^^^

Numb. 57. Saturday, Alay 19, 1759.

PRUDENCE is of more frequent ufe
than any other intelledual quality ; it is
[exerted on flight occafions, and called into adt
[by the curfory bufinefs of common life.

Whatever is univerfally neceflary has been
Igranted to maiikind on eafy terms. " Prudence,
[as it is always wanted, is without great difficulty
[obtained. It requires neither, ^xtenfive view
nor profound fearch, but forces itfelf, by fpon-
Itaneous impulfe, upon a mind neither great nor
[bufy, neither ingrofled by vaft defigns, nor dif-
|trai"ted by muitiplicity of attention-
Prudence

1 1

I :U:!

ill

THE IDLER.

Prudence operates on life in the fame manner
as rules on compofition ; it produces vigilance
rather than elevation, rather prevents lofs than
procures advantage ; and often cfcapes mifcar-
riages, but feldom reaches either power or
honour. It <juencl*cs that ardour of enter-
prize by which every thing is done that can
claim praife or admiration ; and reprciles that
generous tcmeiity which often fails and often
fuccecds. Rules may obviate faults, but can
never confer beauties ; and Prudence keeps life
fafe, but does not often make it happy. The
world is not amazed with prodigies of excel-
lence, but when Wit tramples upon Rules,
and Magnanimity breaks the chains of Pru-
dence.

One of the moft prudent of all that have
fallen within my obfervation, is my old coni-
panion S^phron, who has pafled through the
world in quiet, by perpetual adherence to a few
plain maxims, and wonders how contention and
diilrefs can fo often happen.

The firfl principle of Sopbron is to run no ha-
zards. Though he loves money, he is of opinion
that frugality is a more certain fource of riches
than induflry. It is to no purpofc that any
profpeA of large profit is fet before him ; he be-
lieves little about futurity, and does not love to
truft his money out of his fight, for nobody
knows what may happen. He has a fmall eftate,

which

THE IDLE^.

which he lets at the old rent, becaufe // is hetur
t» have a little than nothing ; but he rigoroufly dc- .
mands payment on the ftated day, for he that
Uanrnt pay one quarter canmt pay two. If he is
told of any improvements in agriculture, he
likes the old way, has obferved that changes
veryfeldom anfwer expeaation, is of opinion
that our fore-fathers knew how to till the ground
as well as we ; and concludes with an argument
[that nothing can overpower, that the expence
of planting and fencing is immediate, and the
advantage diftant, and that he is no wife man zi^ho
will quit a certainty for an uncertainty, *

Another of Sopbron's rules is, to mind no hup.

nefs but his own. In the State he is of no party ;

1 but hears and fpeaks of publick affairs with the

fame coldnefs as of the adminiftration of fome

[ancient republick. If any flagrant aft of Fraud

tor Oppreffion is mentioned, he hopes that W/ is

\not true that is told; if Mifcondua or Corruption

puts the nation in aflame, he hopes that every

[man means well. At Eleaions he leaves his

J dependents to their own choice, and declines to

vote hirafelf} for every Candidate is a good

man, whom he is unwilling to oppofe or

offend.

If difputes happen among his neighbours, he

obferves an invariable and cold neutrality. His

[punauality has gained him the reputation of

honefty, and his caution that of wifdom ; and

few

1 in
> IN

I M

24 THE IDLER. N» 57.

few would refufe to refer their claims to his
award. He might have prevented many expen-
five law-fuits, and quenched many a feud in its
firft fmoke, but always refufes the office of
Arbitration, becaufe he muft decide againft one
or the other.

With the affairs of other families he is al-
ways unacquainted. He fees eftates bought
and fold, fquandered and increafed, without
praiiing the ceconomift, or cenfuring the fpend-
thrift. He never courts the rifmg, left they
fhould fall J nor infults the fallen, left they Ihould
rifeigain. His caution has the appearance of
virtue, and all who do not want his help praife
his benevolence ; but if any man folicits his
affiftance, he has juft fent away all his money;
and when the petitioner is gone, declares to his
family that he is forry for his misfortunes, has
always looked upon him with particular kind-
nefs, and therefore could not lend him money,
left he ftiould deftroy their friendfhip by the ne-
- ceffity of enforcing payment.

Of domeftic misfortunes he has never heard.
When he is told the hundredth time of a Gen-
tleipan's daughter who has married the coach-
man, he lifts up his hands with aftonifhment,
for he always thought her a very fober girl.
When nuptial quarrels, after having filled the
country with talk and laughter, at laft end in

feparation,

N' 57.

THE IDLER,

reparation, he never can conceive how it hap-
jpened, for he looked upon the«, a. . ha^!;

tdU'V^'I-" '' f"^' ^' "'''' g'^« m par-
ticular direftion, becaufe events are uncertain

-d he u bring no blame upon himfelf b";

le takes the confulter tenderly by the hand, tells

)oth fides ; obftrves that a man may be as eafil v
bo hafty as too How. and that as many fa Z
Jomg ,00 much as Uo little ; that a u„yLJZ .
[wo ears and one tongue ; and i/m, //«/, i.v :, ,',

fc^^t'ar ^ ^""''^ '^" '"* ''-^-^^^^^
:Ltati:s''^^"^'"^"^^'''^^^"^^"^Seof

With this fome are fatisfied, and go home
Nh great reverence of Sopkron^s wifdom and
he are offended, becaufe every one is 1 f' "„
Wl poflefiion of his own opinion,
iophron gives nocharaaers. It is emulhr
"ntotei him of Vice and Virtue, for^t
t^arked that no ma„ iifces to be cenfured a^d

erytaimly to be m good circumftances • he

[the meets wzth none but very fe„,ible people.*

Every

lili

j5 THE IDLER. N'57.

Every man is honeft and hearty, and every wo-
man is a good creature.

Thus Sopbrm creeps along, neither loved nor
hated, neither favoured nor oppofed ; he has
never attempted to grow rich, for fear of grow-
ing poor ; and has r^fed no friends, for fear of
making enemies.

Numb. 58. Satoxday, May 26, 1759-

PLEASURE is very feldom found where
it is fought. Our brighteft blazes of
dadnefs are commonly kindled by unexpefted
Lrks The flowers which fcatter their odours
from iime to time in the paths of life, grow
„p without culture from feeds fcattered by

'*■ Nothing is more hopelefs than a fcheme of
merriment. Wits and humorifts are brougb
together from diftant quarters by preconcerted
invitations ; they come attended by the.r ad-
mirers prepared to laugh and to applaud ; they
gaze a- while on each other, alhamed to befilenJ

!nd afraid to fpeak-. '-"X ««»" '' ''f °"*;" J
withhimfelf, grows angry ^"^ "^,f' ^,^; .^'l
him pain, and refolves that he w.U contr toj

N^s^. THE IDLER. a;

nothing to the merriment of fuch worthlefs com»
pany. Wine inflames the general malignity,
and changes fullennefs to petulance, till at laft
none can bear any longer the prcfence of the reft.
They retire to vent their indignation in fafer
places, where they are heard with attention ;
their importance is reftored, they recover their
good-humour, and gladden the night with wit
and jocularity.

Merriment is always the effba ofafudden
impreffion. The jeft which is expe£led is al-
ready deftroyed. The moft aaive imagination
will be fometimes torpid under the frigid in-
fluence of melancholy; and fometimes occafions
will be wanting to tempt the mind, however
I Volatile, to fallies and excurfions. Nothing was
ever faid with uncommon felicity, but by the
co-operation of chance ; and, therefore, wit as
well as valour muft be content to Iharc its
honours with fortune.

All other pleafures are equally uncertain; the
i general remedy of uneafiftefs is change of place ;
almoft every one has fgfne journey of pleafure in
jhis mind, with which he flatters his expeftation.
He that travels in theory has no inconvenience ;
ihehaslhade and funfhine at his difpofal, and
I wherever he alights finds tables of plenty and
I looks of gaiety. Thefe ideas are indulged till
I the day of departure arrives, the chaife is called,
I and the progrefs of happinefs begins.

C z A few

<!i I

! ilil

Mill

! . 1

1 ' mm

i I

IIBiliii

aB THE IDLER. 1^5^-

* A few miles teach him the fallacies of ima-
gination. The road is dufty, the air is fultry,
the horfes are lluggilh, and the poftillion bru-
tal. He longs for the time of dinner, that he
may eat and reft. The inn is crowded, his
orders arc neglefted, and nothing remains but
that he devour in hafte what the cook has
fpoiled, and drive on in queft of better en-
tertainment. He finds at night a more commo-
dious houfe, but the beft is always worfe than
be expe£lcd.

He at laft enters his native province, and rc-
folves to feaft his mind with the converfatlon of
his old friends, and the recolleaion of juvenile
frolicks. He ftops at the houfe of his friend,
whom he defigns to overpower with pleafure by
the unexpeaed interview. He is not known till
he tells his name, and revives the memory of
himfelf by a gradual explanation. He is then
coldly received, and ceremonioufly feafted.
He liaftes away to another, whom his affairs
have called to a diftant place, and having feen
the empty houfe, goes away difgufted, by a dif-
appointment which could not be intended be-
caufe it could not be forefeen. .At the next
houfe he finds every face clouded with mis-
fortune, and is regarded with malevolence as
an unreafonable intruder, who comes not to

vifit but to infiilt them.

I^«5^. . THE IDLER. 29

•

Ife is feldom that we find either men or places
fuch as we exped tiiem. He that has pictured
a profpe6t upon his fancy, will receive little
pleafurc from his eyes ; he that has anticipated
the converfation of a wit, will wonder to what
prejudice he owes his reputation. Yet it is
neceflfary to hope, though hope fliould always be
deluded ; for hope itlelf is happinefs, and its
fruftrations, however frequent, are yet h{s
dreadful than its extinftion.

^^^^i's.9^m^r^>^^^.^^.^i:.f^9^^^4:.

KuMB. 59, Saturday, June 2, 1759,

IN the common enjoyments of life we can-
not very liberally indulge the prefent hour,
but by anticipating part of the pleafure which
might have relieved the tedioufnefs of another
day ; and any uncommon exertion of ftrcngth,
or perfeverance in labour, is fucceeded by a long
interval of languor and wearincfs. Whatever
advantage we fnatch beyond the certain portion
allotted ns by nature, is like money fpent be-
fore it is due, which at the time of regular pay-
ment will be milled and rejjretted.

Fame, like all other things which are fup-

■ poled to give or to increafe happinefs, is difpenfed

with the fame equahty of dilVribution. He that

is loudly praifed will be clamoroufly cenfured ;

C 3 he

30 THE IDLER. N''59.

he that rifcs haftily into fame will be in dan-
ger of finking fuddcnly into oblivion.

Of many writers who filled their age with
wonder, and whofe names we find celebrated
in the books of their contemporaries, the works
arc now no longer to be fcen, or arc fecn
only amidft the lumber of libraries which are
feldom vifited, where they lie only to Ihew
the deceitfulncfs of hope, and the uncertainty
of honx)ur.

Of the decline qf reputation many caufes
may be afligned. It is commonly loft becaufc
it never was dcferved ; and was conferred at
firft, not by the fufFrage of criiicifm, but by
the fondnefs of friendlhip, or fcrvility of flat-
tery. The great and popular arc very freely
applauded ; but all foon grow weary of echo-
ing to eajch other a name which has no other
claim to notice, but that many mouths arc pro-
nouncing it at once.

But many have loft the final reward of their
labours, becaufe they were too hafty'to enjoy it.
'^I'hey ha.c laid hold on recent occurrences and
eminent names,- and delighted their readers with
allufions and remarks, in which all were inter-
cfted, and to which all therefore were attentive.
Eut the efFedt ceafed with its caufe ; the tim«
quickly came when new events drove the former
from memory, when the viciflitudes of the
world brought new hopes and fears, transferred

liii;

N**^.

THE IDLER.

the love and hatred of the publick to other agents ;
and the viricer, whofe works were no longer af-
fifted by gratitude or refcntmcat, was left to the
cold regard of idle curiofity.

He that writes upon general principles, or
delivers univerfal truths, may hope to be often
read, bccaufc his work will be equally ufcful at
all times and in every couiitry j but he cannot
cxpeft it to be received with eagerncfs, or to
fpread with rapidity, becaufe dcfire can have
no particular ftimulation ; that which is to be
loved long muft be loved with realbn rather
than with paflion. He that lays out his labours
upon temporary fubje£ls, cafily finds rcadcisi
and qpickly lofcs them ; for what (liould make
the book valued when its fubjcdt is no more ?

Thefe obfervations will (hew the reafon why
the Poem oi Hud'tbras isalmoft forgoit^n, how-
ever embellifhed with fentiments and divcrfified
with allulions, however bright with wit, and
however folid with truth. The hypocrify which
it detefted, and the folly which it ridipulcd, have
long vanilhed from public notice. Thofe who
had felt the mifchief ofdifcord, and the tyranny
ofufurpation, read it with rapture, for every line
brought back to memory fomething known, and
gratified refentmcnt by the juftcen lure of fome-
thing hated. But the book which was once
quoted by Princes, and which fupplicd conver-

C 4 fation

;. !i ■

till

I I

i^llt

i I

m\H

St THE IDLER, N" 5^.

ration to all the alTcmblics of the gay and witty.
1? now felclom mentioned, and even by thole
that affca to mention, it is feldom read. So
vaniiy is wit lavifho<i upon fugitive topics, fo
iittle can architeaure fccuie duration \yhcn the
ground is falfc.

Numb. 60. Saturday, yum 9, 1759,

CRITICISM is a ftudy by which men
grow important and formidable at very
fmaJl expcnce. The power of invention has
been conferred by Nature upon few, and the
labour of learning thofe fciences which may by
mere labour be obtained is too great to be wil-
lingly endured; but every man can exert fuch
judgment as he has upon the works of others ;
and he whom Nat^re has made weak, and Idle-
udi keeps ignorant, may yet fiipport his vanity
by the name of a Critick.

I hope it will give comfort to great numbers
Avlio are paifing through the world in obllurity,
when I inform them how^eafily diftinaion may
be obtained. All the other powers of literature
are coy and haughty; they muft be long courted,
and at laft are not ahvays gained ; butCriticifn^
is a^oddefscafy of accefs, ?ndforward of advance,

who,

who V

THE IDLER.

will meet the (Ibw, and encourage the
timorous ; the want of meaning fhe fupplies
with words, and the want of fpirit Ihc rccom-
penfes witli malignity.

This profelfion has one recommendation pc-
cuHar to itfclf, that it gives vent to malignity
without real mifchief. No genius was ever
blalled by the breath of Criticks. The polfoii
which, if confined, would have burft the heart,
fumes away in empty hiflcs, and malice is fct at
eafc with very little danger to merit. The
Critick is the only man whofe triuwiph is with'
out another's pain, and whofe grcataefs does not
rife upon another's ruin. .

To a fludy at once fo eafy and fo reputable,
fo malicious and fo harmlcfs, it cannot be nc-
ceflary to invite my readers by a long or laboured
exhortation ; it is fufficient, fince all would be
Criticks if thty could, to Ihew by one eminent
example that all can be Criticks if they will.

Dick Minim, after the common courfe of pue-
rile iludies, In which he was no great proficient,
was put apprentice to a Brewer, wi-th whom he
had lived two years, when his uncle died m the
city, and left him a large fortune in the Hocks.
Dick h?id for fjx months before ufed the com-
pnny of the lower players, of whom he had
learned to fcornatrade, and being now at liberty
to follow his genius, he refolvcd to be a man of
wit and humour. That h'emight be properly

^5. initiated^

III

\ r::!if;

! !

I ' i

f ! !l

34 THE IDLER. N* 60;^

initiated in his new chara£ler^ he frequented tlie
coffee-houfes near the theatres, where he liftened
very diligently, day after day, to thofe who
talked of language and fcntiment, and unities
and cataftrophes, till by flow degrees he began
to think that he underftood fonaething of the
Stage, and hoped in thue to talk himfelf.

But he did not truft fo much to natural fa.*
gacity, as wholly to negleft the help of books.
When the Theatres were (hut, he retired to
Richmond with a few fele£l writers, whofe opi-
nions he imprefled upon his memory by unwea.-
ried diligence ; and,, when he returned with
other wits to the town, was able to tell, in very
proper phrafes, that the chief bufinefs of art is
to copy nature ; that a perfedl writer is not x^y
be expe£led, becaufe genius decays as judgment
increafes ; that the great art is the art of blotr
ting ; and that, according to the rule of Harace^
every piece (hould be kept nine years.

Of the great Authors he now began to dif-
play the Charaflers, laying down, as an univer-
fal pofition, that all had beauties and defers.
His opinion was, that Shake/pear^ committing
himfelf wholly to the impulfe of Nature, wanted
that 'corre^lnefs which learning would have
given him j and that Jonfon^ trulling to learning,
did not iiafficiently call his eye on Nature.
He blamed the Stanza of Spenfer^ and could not
bear the Haameurs of Sidney, Dtnham asd

Wallet

retifwu to

Weo, THE IDLER. 35

/Va/ier he held the firft reformers of Engll/h
Numbers i and thought that if IValler could
have obtained the ftrength of Denham^ or Den-
ham the fweetnefs . of fValUry there had been
nothing wanting to complete a Poet. He often •
exprefled his commiferation of Dryderi's pover-
ty, and his indignation at the age which fufFcr-
ed him to write for bread ; he repeated with rap-
ture the firft lines of ////er Love^ but wondered
at the corruption of taftc which could bear any
thing fo unnatural as rhym.ing tragedies. In
Otway he found Uncommon powers of moving
the paffions, but was difgufted by his general
negligence, and blamed him for making a Con-
fpirator his Hero ; and never concluded his dif-
quifition, without remarking how happily the
found of the clock is made to alarm the au-
dience. Southern would have been his faVourite,
but that he mixes comick with tragick fceues,
intercepts the natural courfe of the paffions,
and fills the mind with a wild confulion of mirth
and melancholy. The verfification of Roue
he thought too melodious for the llage, and too
little varied in different paffions. He made it
the great fault oi Congreve, that all his perfon^
were wits, and that he always wrote with more
art than nature. He confidered Cato rather as
a poem than a play, and allowed Addifon to be
the complete mailer of Allegory and grave hu-
mour, but p^id no great deference to him as a

C 6 • Critick.'

'i\'

■ i i

36 THE IDLER. N' 60.

Critick. He thought the chief merit of Prior
was in his eafy tales and lighter poems, though
he allowed that his Solomon had many noble fen-
tinients elegantly exprelTed. In Swl/i he difco-
vered an inimitable vein of irony, and an eali*
nels which all would hope, and few would at-
tain. PiJ/zf he was inclined to degrade from a
Poet to a Veriifier, and thought his numbers
rather lufcious than fweet. He often lamented
the neglect of Phcvdra and Hippo Hi w^, and wi Hi-
ed to fee the ftage under better regulations.

Thefe affctions pafTed commonly uncon-
tradicted ; and if now and then an opponent
.fiarted up, he was quickly reprelTcdr by the fuf-
liages of the company, and^'^//«///j went away
from every difpute with elation of heart and tn.-
creafe of confidence.

He now grew confcious of his abilities, and
began to talk of the prefent flate of Dramaticlc
Poetry ; wondered what was become of the co-
mick genius which fupplied our anceflors with,
wit and pleafantry, and why no wriser could be
found that durft now venture beyond a Farce.
He faw no reafon for thinking that the vein' of
humour was exhautted, ihicc we live in a
country where liberty fuffcrs every character to
fpread itfelf to its Utmoft bulk, and which there-
fore produces more originals than all the reft of
the world together. Of Tragedy he concluded
bufinefs to be the fouJ, and yet .often hinted

N°6o. THE IDLER. 37^

that love predominates too much upon the
modern ftage.

He was now an acknowledged Critick, and
had his own feat in a cofFee-houfe, an^ headed-
a party in the pit. Minim has more vanity thati
ill-nature, and feldom defires to do much mif-
chief; he will perhaps murmur a little in the
ear of him that fits next him, but endeavours
to influence the audience to favour, by clapping;
when an a6tor exclaims Te Gods, or laments the
mifery of his country.

By degrees he was admitted to Rehearfals ; and
many of his friends are of opinion, that our
prefent Poets are indebted to him for their hap-
pieit thoughts ; by his contrivance the bell was
rung twice in Barharojfa ; and by his perfualion
the author of Clcone concluded his Play without
a couplet; for what can be more abfurd, faid
Mlnimy than that part of a play fhould be
rhymed, and part written In blank verfe ? and
by what acquiiition of faculties is the Speaker,
who never cou-ld find rhymes before, enabled to
rhyme at the conclufion of an a£i ?

He is the great inveftigator of hidden beau-
tics, and is particularly delighted when he finds
the Sound an Echo to the Senfe, He has read all our
Poets with particular attention to this delicacy of
Verfification, and wonders at the fupinenefs
with which their Works have been hitherto pc-
rufed, fo that no man has found the found of a
Drum in this diflich ;

« When

:ii Hi''

38^ THE IDLER.

«« When Pulpit, Drum ecclefiaftic^

" Was beat with lift inftead of a ftick j**

]S°6o.

and that the wonderful lines upon Honour and
a Bubble-have hitherto paffed without notice :

« Honour ir like the glaffy Bubble,

" Which cofts Philofophcrs fuch trouble;

«* Where one part crack'dj the whole does fly^,

" And Wits arc crack'd to find out why."

In thefe Verfes, fays Minima we have two ftrik-
ing accommodations of the Sound to the Senfe.
It is impoffible to utter the two lines emphati-
cally witliout an . a£t like that which they de-
fcribe ; Bubh!e and Tr^«^/e cauling a momentary
inflation of the Cheeks by the. retention of the
breath, which is afterwards forcibly emitted, as
in the pradice oi blowing bubbles. But the greateft
excellence is in the third line, which is crack'd in
the middle to exprefs a crack, and then (hi vers
into monofyllables. Yet has this diamond lain
negle£led with common flones 5 and among the
innumerable admirers of Hudibras the obferva-
tion of this fuperlative paflage has been referved
for the fagacity of iW/wOT.

Numb.

N°6i-

THE IDlLER.

39^

Numb. 6i. Saturday, 7«»* i6, 1759.

MR. Mimm had now advanced himfelf to
the zenith of critical reputation; when
he was in the Pit, every eye in the Boxes was
fixed upon him ; when he entered his CofFee-
houfe, he was furrounded by circles of candi-
dates, who pafled their noviciate of literature
^nder his tuition ; his opinion was aflced by ail
who had no- opinion of their own, and yet
loved to debate and decide ; and no compofition
was fuppofed to pafs in fafety to pofterity, till
it had been fecured by Minimis approbation.

Minim profefles great admiration of the
wifdom and munificence by which 'the Aca-
demies of the continent were raifed, and often
wi(hes for fome flandard of tafte, for fome tri-
bunal, to which merit may appeal from caprice,
prejudice, and malignity. He has formed a plan
for an Academy of Criticifm, where every work
of Imagination may be read before it is printed,
and which (hall authoritatively direft the The^
atres what pieces to receive or rcjeft, to exclude
or to revive.

Such an- inftitution would, in Dick^s opinion,
fpread the fame oiBngliJh Literature over Europe^
and make London the metropolis of elegance and
politenefs, the place to which the learned and
ingenious of all countries would repair for in-

ftruflion

w ;.

:.i

I; :lll

40 THE IDLER. N'6i.

ftruftion and improvement, and where nothing
would any longer be applauded or endured tha°
was not conformed to the niceft rules, and
finilhed with the higheft elegance.

Till fomc happy conjundion of the planets
Ihall difpofe our Princes or Miniftcrs to make
themfelves immortal bv fuch an Academy,
Mnim contents himfe) .-.. -refide four nights
in a week in a Critical Sou.cty fele^ed by him-
fdf, where he is heard without contradiction,
and whence his judgement is difleminated
tlirough the great vulgar and the fmaii.

When he is placed in the chair of Criticifm,
he declares loudly for the noble fimplicity of
our anccllors, in oppofition to the petty refine-
ments, and ornamental luxuriance. Sometimes
he is funk in defpair, and perceives falfe delicacy
daily gaimng ground ; and fometimes brightens
his countenance with a gleam of hope, and pre-
dias the revival of the true fublime. He then
fiilminates his loudeft cenfures againft the
monkilh barbarity of rhyme ; wonders how
beings that pretend to reafon can be pleafed with
one line always ending like another ; tells how
unjulliy and unnaturally fenfe is facrificed to
found ; how often the beft thoughts are mangled
by the neceflity of confining or extending them
to the dimenfions of a couplet ; and rejoices
that genius has, in our days, fhaken oif the
Ihackles which had encumbeix;d it fo long*
- Yet

N=6i. THE IDLER. 41

Yet he allows that rhyme may fometimes be
borne, if the lines be often broken, and the
paufes judicioufly divcrlificd.

From Blank Verfc he makes an eafy traniition
to MilioTiy whom he produces as an example of
the flow advance of lading reputation. M'tltm
is the only writer in whofe' books Minim can
read for ever without wearinefs. What caufe it
is that exempts this pleafure from fatiety he has
long and diligently enquired, and beheves it to
coniift in the perpetual variation of the numbers
by which the car is gratified and the attention
awakened. The lines that are commonly thought
rugged and unmuiical, he conceives to have
been written to temper the melodious luxury of
the reft, ox to cxpr&fs things by a proper ca».
dence : fox he fcarccly finds a vcrfe that has not
this favourite beauty ; he declares that he could
ihiver in a hot-houfe, when he reads that

** the ground
*' Burns frore^ and coW performs th* efFed of
**firei"

and that, vfhcnMilton bewails his blindnefs, the

verfe • '

" So thick adropferene has quench'd thefe orbs**

has, he knows not how, fomething that ftrikes
him with ai\ obfcure fenfatioa like that which

he-

4t THE IDLER. N** 6r.

he fancies would be felt from the found of Dark-

nefs.

Minim is not fo confident of his rules of
Judgement as not very eagerly to catch new
light from the name of the author. He is
commonly fo prudent as to fpare thofe whom he
cannot refift, unlefe, as will fometimes happen^
he find's the publick combined againft them.
But a frelh pretender to fame he is flrongly in-
clined to cenfure, till his own honour requires
that he commend him. Till he knows the fuc*
cefs of a compofition» he intrenches Wimfelf in
general tenns; there are fome new thoughts
and beautiful paflages ; but there is likewifc
much which he would have advifed the author
to expunge. He has feveral favourite epithets,
of which he has never fettled the meaning,
but which are very commodioufly applied to
books which he has not read^ or cannot under^
ftand. One is manly, another is tiry, another
Jiiffl and another //w^ J fometimes he dif-
covers delicacy of ftylc, and fometimes meets
withjirangi exfrej/i&ns.

Ue is never fo. great, or fo happy, as when
a youth of promifing parts is brought to re-
ceive his direftions for the profecution of Kis
fUidies. He then puts on a very feriousair;
he advifes the pupil to read none but the beft
Authors ;. and, when he fipds one congcmal

t»

N*6i. THE IDLER. • 4^

to his own mind, to ftudy his beauties, but
aroid his faults ; and, when he fits down to
write, to confider how his favourite Author
would think at the prefent time on the prefent
occaiion. He exhorts him to catch thofe
moments when he finds his thoughts expanded
and his genius exalted ; but to take care left
imagination hurry him beyond the bounds of
Nature. He holds Diligence the mother of
Succefs : yet enjoins him, with great earneft-
nefs, not to read more than he can digeil, and
not to confufe his mind by purfuing Audies of
contrary tendencies. He tells him, that every
man has his genius, and that Cicero could never
be a Poet. The boy retires illuminated, re-
folves to follow his genius, and to think how
Milton would *have thought : and Minim feails
upon his own beneficence till another day bringi
another Pupil,

Numb*

ri liiril

THE IDLER,

N»62.

Numb. 62. Saturday, Jum 23, lysg..*

To the IDLE R.

Sir,

AN opinion prevails almoft univerfally in
the world, that he who has money has
every thing. This is not a modern paradox^
or the tenet of a fmall and obfcure fe^, but"
a perfuafion which appears to have operated
upon moft minds in all ages, and which is
fupported by authorities fo numerous and
fa cogent, tliat notliing but long experience
could have given mc confidence to queftion
its truth.

But Experience is the teft by which all
the Philofophers of the prefent age agree, that
Speculation muft be tried } and I may be there-
fore allowed to doubt the power of money, fince
I have been a long time rich, and have not
yet found that riches can make me happy.

My father was a farmer, neither wealthy nor
indigent, who gave me a better education than
was fuitable to my birth, becaufe my uncle in
the city defigned me for his heir, and delired
that I might be bred a Gentleman. My un-
cle's wealth was the perpetual fubjed of conver-

fatioii

1^062. THE IDLER. 4^

fation in the houfe ; and when any little mis-
fortune befell us, or any mortification dejefted
us, my father always exhorted me to hold up
my head, for my uncl6 would never marry.

My uncle, indeed, kept his promife. Hav-
ing his mind completely bufied between his
warehoufe and the 'Change, he felt no tediouf-
nefs of life, nor any want of domeftic amufe*
merits. When my father died, he received me
kindly ; but, after a few months, finding no
great pleafure in the converfation of each other,
we parted ; and he remitted me a fmall annuity,
on which I lived a quiet and iludious life, with-
out any wifh to grow great by the death of my
benefa£ior.

But though I never fuffered any malignant im-
patience to take hold on my mind, 1 could not
forbear fometimes to imagine to myfelf the plea-
fure of being rich ; and, when I read of diver-
fions and magnificence, refolvcd to try, when
time fliould put the trial in my power, what
pleafure they could afford. .

My uncle, in the latter fpring of his life, when
his ruddy cheek and his firm nerves promifed
him a long and healthy age, died of an apoplexy*
His death gave me neither joy nor forrow. He
did me good, and .1 regarded hrm with grati-
tude ; but I could not pleafe him, and therefore
could not love him.

4 .He

' -m

r . I'

45 THE IDLER. N^' 6a.

He had the policy of little minds, who love
to furprize ; and, having always rcprcfentcd his
fortune as Icfs than it was, had, I fuppofc, often
gratified himfcif with thinking, how I fliould be
delighted to find myfclf twice as rich as I cx-
pcftcd. My wealth was fuch as exceeded all the
fchemes of expcnce which I had formed ; and I
foon began to expand my thoughts, and look
round for fomc purchafc of felicity.

ThemoftftrikingefFca of riches is the fplcn-
dour of drefs, which every man has obferved to
enforce refpeft, and facilitate reception ; and my
firft dcfire was to be fine. I fent for a taylor
who was employed by the Nobility, and ordered
fuch a fuit of cloaths as 1 had often looked on
with involuntary fubmiflion, and am afhamed
to remember with what flutters of expeaation I
waited for the how when I fhould iffue forth in
all the fplendour of embroidery. The cloaths
were brought, and for three days I obferved
many eyes turned towards me as 1 paffed : but I
felt myfelf obftrufted in the common intercourfe
of civility by an uneafy confcioufnefs of my
new appearance. As I thought myfelf more ob-
served, I was more anxious about my mien and
behaviour ; and the mien which his formed by
care is commonly ridiculous. A Ihort time ac-
cuftomed me to myfelf, and my drcfs was with-
out pain, and without pleafurc.

For

[iq''6a. THE IDLER. 47

For a little while I tried to be a Rake, but I
began too late ; and having by nature no turn for
a froHck, was in great danger of ending in a
Drunkard. A fever, in which not ouc of my
companions paid me a vidt, gave me time for re-
fle£tion. I found that there was no great plea-
fure in breaking windows and lying in the
Round-houfe ; andrefolved to aflbciate no longer
with thofe whom, though I had treated andbailed
them, I could not make friends.

I then changed my meafures, kept running-
horfes, and had the comfort of feeing my n.^me
very often in the news. I had a chefnut horfc,
the grandfon of Cbtldgrs^ who won four plates,
and ten by-matches ; and a bay filly, who car-
ried off the five-years-old plate, and was ex-
pected to perform much greater exploits, when
my groom broke her wind, becaufe I happened
to catch him felling oats for beer. This happi-
nefs was foon at an end ; there was no pleafurc
when I loft, and when I won I could not much
exalt myfelf by the virtues of my horfe. I grew
afhamed of the company of Jockey Lords, and
lefolved to fpend no more of my time in the
Stable.

It was now known that I had money and
would fpend it ; and 1 paffed four months in the
company of Architeas, whofe whole bullnefs
was to perfuade me to build a houfe. I told theni
that I had more room than I wanted, but could

not

48 THE IDLER. N» 62.

not get rid of their importunities. A new plan
was brought me every morning ; till at laft my
conftancy was overpowerd, and I began to build.
The happinefs of building lafted but a little
while, for though I love to fpend, 1 hate to be
cheated ; and I foon found, that to build is to
be- robbed.

How I proceed in the purfuit of happinefs,
you Ihall hear when I find myfelf difpofed to

write.

I am, Sir, he,

Tim. Ranger*

> • « -

Numb. 63. Saturday, June ^o, 1759,

TH E natural progrefs of the works of men
ik from rudenefs to convenience, from
convenience to elegance, and from elegance to
nicety.

The firft labour is enforced by neceflity. Thd
favage finds himfelf incommoded by heat and
cold, by rain and wind ; he fhelters himfelf in
the' hollow of *a rock, and learns to dig a cave
where there was none before. He finds the furi
and the wind excluded by the thicket ; and when
the accidents of the chace, or the convenience
of paflurage, leads him into more open places, he

fryfryyo

N-63. THE IDLER. 4^

forms a thicket for liimfelf, by planting flakes at
proper diftances, and laying branches from one
to another*

The next gradation of Ikill and induftry pro-
^uces a lioufe, clofed with doors, and divided
by partitions ; and apartments are multiplied and
difpofed according to the various degrees of
power or invention ; improvement fuccecds im*
provement, as he tfiat is freed from a greateif
evil grows impatient of a lefs, till eafe in time is
advanced to pleafure.

The mind fet free from the importunities of
natural want, gains leifure to go in feach of fu^
perfiuous gratifications, and adds to the ufes of
habitation the delights of profpeft. Then be-
gins the reign of fymmetry ; orders of architec-
ture are invented, and one part of the edifice is
conformed to another, without any other rca-
fon than that the eye may not be offended.

The palTage is very fhort from elegance to
luxury. lonick and Corinthian columns arc foon
fucceeded by gilt cornices, inlaid floors, and
petty ornaments, which ihew rather the wealth
than the tafle of the poflcflbr.

Language proceeds, like every thing tKe^
through improvement to degeneracy. The
rovers who firfl take pofTefiion of a country^
having not many ideas, and thofe not nicely
modified or difcrinainated, were contented if by
generaUerms and abrupt fentences they could "

make

JO THE IDLER. 't^'*6p

make their thoughts known to one another; zt
life begins to be more regulated, and property
to become limited, difputes muit be decided,
Bnd ^claims adjuiled ; the differences of thiiigs
are noted, and diftinftnefs and propriety of ex-
preffion become >neceflary. In time, happinefs
and plenty give rife to curiofity, and tlie fciences
are cultivated for eafe and pleafure ; to the nrts
which are now to be taught, emulation foon
adds the art of teaching ; and the iludious and
ambitious contend not only who fhall think
Ijeft, but who fhatl tell their thoughts in the
moft pleafing manner.

Then begin the arts of Rhetorick and Poetry^
the regulation of figures, the feledion ^f wojds,
the modulation of periods, the graces of
tranfition, the complication of claufes, and all
the delicacies of ftyle and fubtilties of com-
pofition, ufeful while they advance perfpicuity,
and laudable while they increafe pleafure, but
cafy to be refined by needlefs fcrupulofity till
they fhall more embarrafs the writer than aflifb
tlie reader or delight him.

The firft ftate is commonly antecedent to the
pra6tice of writing ; tlie ignorant eflays of im-
perfect di^ion pafs away witli the .favage gener-
ation that uttered them. No nation can trace
their language beyond the feconu period, and
-€ven of that it does not often happen tliat many
monuments remain.

. Th<5

N«^3- THE IDLER. j^

The late of the EngUJh tongue is like that of
others. We know nothing of the fcanty jargon
of our barbarous anceftors 4 but we have fpeci«
n:€ns ol our language when it began to be
adapted to civil and religious purpofes, and find
it fuch as might naturally be expeaed, artkfs
and fimple, unconneftcd and concifc. The
writers feem to have defircd little more than to
be underllood, and perhaps feWom afpired to
the praiie of pleafing. Their verfes were con-
iidered chiefly as memorial, and therefore did
not differ from profe but by the meafure or the
Thyme.

In this flate, varied a little according to the
different purpofes or abilities of writers, our
language may be faid to have continued to the
time of Gotuer, whom Chaucer calls his mafter,
and who, however obfcured by his fcholar's
popularity, feems juftly to claim the honour
which lias been hitherto denied him, of (hewing
his countrymen that fomething more was to be
defired, and that Englijh verfe might be exalted
into poetry.

From the time of Gowir and Chaucer, the
Efigli/h writers have ftudied elegance, and ad-
vanced their language, by fucceflive improve-
ments, to as much harmony as it can eafily re-
ceive, and as much copioufnefs as humpii know-
ledge has hitherto required. Thefe advances
kavc not been made at all times with the fame

DA J'lr

gt ^ THE IDLER. N» 63.

diligence or the fame fuccefs. Negligence ha«
fufpended the courfc of improvement, or affec-
tation turned it alide ; time has elapfed witk
little change, or change has been made without
amendment. But elegance has been long kept
in view with attention as near to conftancy as
life permits, till every man now endeavours to
excel others in accuracy, or outfliine them ia
fplendour of llyle ; and the danger is, left care
(hould too fooQ pafs to affe£latioa.

NujMB. 64* Saturday, Jw/j' 7^ 1759.
To the IT>LER.

AS nature has made every man defirous of
bappinefs, I flatter myfelf, that you and
your readers cannot but feel forae curiofity to
know the fequel of ray flory ; for though, by
trvino- the different fchemes ^f pleafure, I have
yet found nothing in which 1 could fuially ac-
quiefce j yet the narrative of my attempts will
not be wholly without ufe, fince we always ap-
proach nearer to truth as we deted more and

more varieties of error*

When

n'64r THE IDLER. ^j

MHien I had fold my Racers, and put the
orders of Archi tenure out of my head, my next
refolution was to be a ^ne Gentleman^ I fre-
quented the polite Coffee-houfes, grew acquaint-
ed with all tlie men of humour, and gained
the right of bowing familiarly to half the no-
bility. In this new fcene of life my great labour
was to learn to laugh. I had been ufed to con-
fider laughter as the effed of merriment ; but I
foon learned that it is one of the arts of adula^
tion; and, from laughing only to fhew that I
was pleafed, I now began to laugh whcn^ I
wifhed to pleafe.. This was at firft very diffi-
cult. I fometimes heard the ftory with dull in«
difference, and, not exalting myfelf to merri-
ment by due gradations, burfl out fuddenlyinto
an aukward noife, which was not always favour-
ably interpreted. Sometimes I was behind the
refl of the company, and loft the grace of laugh-
ing by delay ; and fometimes, when I began at
the right time, was deficient in loudhefs or in
length. But, by diligent imitation of the beft
models, I attained at laft fuch ilexibihty of muf-
cles, tliat I was always a welcome auditor of
aftory, and got the reputation of a good-natured
fellow.

- This was fomething ; but much more was tos
be done, that I might be univerfally allowed to-
be a fine Gentleman. I appeared at Court on
all publick days j betted at gaming-tables, and

f *"J'

54 THE IDLER. N« 64.

played at all the routs of eminence. I went
every night to the Opera, took a Fidler of dif-
putedi merit under my proteftion^ became the
head of a mufical faf^ion, and had fometimei
Concerts at my own houfc. I once thought ta
have attained the higheft rank of elegance, by
taking a foreign finger into keeping. But my
favourite Fidler contrived to be arretted on the
night of a concert, for a finer fuit of cloaths-
than I had ever prefumed to wear, and I
loft all the fame of Patronage by refufing tx>
bail him.

My next ambition was to fit for my Picture.
I fpent a whole winter in gaing from Painter to
Painter, to befpeak a whole-length of one, and
a half length of another ; I talked of nothing
but attitudes, draperies, and proper lights; took
my friends to fee the pidures after every fitting ;
heard every day of a wonderful performer in
crayonsand miniature, and fent my pictures to be
copied ; was told by the judges that they were not
like, and was recommended to other artifts.
At length, being not able to pleafe my friends, I
grew lels pleafed myfelf, and at laft refolved to
think no more about it.

It was impolfible to live in total idlenefs :
and wandering about in fearch of fomething to
do, I was invited to a weekly meeting of Vir-
tuofos, and felt myfelf inftantaneoufly feizcd
with an unextinguifhable ardour for all Natural

N*^4i . THE IDLER. sg

Curiofitics. I ran from? auction to auStTdtl,
Became a Critic in Shells and Foffils, bought a
Hortus Jiccus of ineftimable value, and purchafed
a fecret art of preferving' Infects, which made
my collection' the envy of the other Phiiofo^
phers, I found thiffplcafure mingled with much
vexation. AU the faults of my life were for
nine months circulated- through- the town- with
the moft a£kiv« malignity, becaufe 1 happened
to catch a Moth of peculiar variegation ; and bew
caufe I once out- bid all the Lovers of Shells and
carried off a Nautilus, it was hinted that the
validity of my Uncle's- Will ought to be dif-
puted. I will not deny that 1 was very proud
. both of the Moth and of tlie Shell, and gratified
myfelf with the envy of my companions,^ pei>
hap&- mor« than became a benevolent Being.
But iir time I grew weary of being hated for
that which produced' no advantage, gave my
Shells to children that wanted play-things, and
fupprefled the art oi drying, Butterflies, becaufe
I would not tempt Idlencfs and Cruelty to kill
them.

I now began to feel life tedious, and wifhed
to ftore myfelf with friends, with whom I might
grow old in th? interchange of bettevolence. I
had obferved that popularity was moft eafily
gained by an open table, and therefore hired a
French Cook, furnilhed my fide-board with
great magnificence, filled my cellar with wines

D 4_ of

>- >ll

1 ' II

rl!

S^ THE IDLER. K' 64.

of pompotis appellations, bought every thing that
was dear before it was good, and invited ail thofe
vvho were moft famous forjudging of a dinner.
In three weeks my Cook gave mc warninT, and,
upon enquiry, told me that Lord ^ueajy, who
dined with me the day before, ha<i fent him au
offer of double wages. My pride prevailed, I
raifed his wages, and invited his Lordfhip to
another feaft. I love plain meat, and was
therefore foon weary of fpreading a table of
which I could not partake. I found that my
guefts, when they went away, criticifed their en-
tertainment, and cenfured my profufion; my
Cook thought himfelfneceflary, and took upon
him the direaion of the houfe ; and I could not
rid myfelf of flatterers, or break from flavcry^
but by (hutting up my houfe. and declaring my
Jefolution to live in lodgings.

After all this, tell me, dear Idler, what I
muft do next. I have health, I have money,
and hope that I have underftanding ; yet, with
all thefe, I have never yet been able to pafs a
fingle day which I did not wifh at an end before
fun-fct. Tell me, dear Mer, what I Ihall do. I
SOS

Your humble Servant,

Tim. Ranger.

is '

"in

Numb,

W6i,

The iDLEft.

Numb. 65, Saturday, July j^ t

159'

THE Sequel of ClartHdon's Hiftory, at Jaft
happily publiftied, is an acccffion to Engr
U/h Literature equally agreeable to the admirers
of elegance and the lovers of truth; many
doubtful fa<as may now be afcertaincd^. and
many queftions, after long debate, may be: de-
termined by decifive authority.. He that records
tranfadlions in which himfelf was engaged,, haa
not only an opportunity of knowing innumcr^
able particulars which efcape fpe£lators, but has
his natural powers exalted by that ardour whiclv
always rifes at the remembrance of our own im-»
portance, and by which every nian is enabled to
relate his own a(Slions better th^n another's*

The difficulties dirough which this work haa
ftruggled into light, and the delays with which
our hopes have been long mocked^ naturally
lead the mind to the confederation of tlie com*
men fate of pofthumous compofitions.

He who fees himfelf furrounded by adinirers,.
and whofc vanity is hourly feafted with all the
luxuries of fludied praife, is eafily perfuaded
tliat his influence will be extended beyond his
life; that they who cringe in his prefence will
reverence his memory ;: and that thoffc who arer
groud to he numbered among his friends will

P S endeayoui;:

i 4

5f THE IDLER. N°6j,

endeavour to vindicate his choice by zeal for his
reputation.

With hopes like thefe, to the Executors of
Swift was committed the Hiftory of the laft years
of Queen jinney and to thofe of Fcpe the Works
which remained unprinted in his clofet. The
performances of Pope were burnt by thofe whom
lie had perhaps felefted from all mankind as moft
likely to publifh them ; and the Hiftory had
likcwifc perifhed, had not a ftraggling tranfcript
fallen into bufy hands.

The Papers left in the clofet oi Peltffc fup-
piled his heirs with a whole winter^ fuel ; and
many of the labours of the learned Bifhop
Lhyd were confumed in the kitchen of his de-

fcendants.

Some Works, indeed, have efcaped total de-
ftruftion, but yet have had reafon to lament the
fate of Orphans expofed to the frauds of unfaith-
ful Guardians. How Hale would have borne
the mutilations which his Pleas of the Crown
have fullered from the Editor, they who know
his character will eafily conceive.

The original Copy of Burnet's Hiftory,
though promifed to fome public * Library, has
been never given ; and who then can prove the
fidelity of the publication, when the authen*

♦ It weuW be proper to r«pofite, in fome public Place,
tbc Manufcript of Clanndwy which has not efcaped all fuf-
picion of unfaithful publicatioaw *

ticity

THE^ IDLER.

5f*

ticity of Clarendon's Hiftory, though printed with
the fan£tion of one of the firft Univ<Jrfities of the
World, had not an unexpeaed manufcript been
happily difcovcred, would, with the help of
factious credulity, have been brought into
queftion by the two lowcft of all human beings,
a Scribbler for a Party, and a ConiKiiflioner of
Excife ?

Vanity is often no lefs mifchicvOus than
negligence or difhonefty. He that poffefles a
valuable Manufcript, hopes to raife its cfteem
by concealment, and delights in the diflin£tion
which he imagines himfelf to obtain by keeping
the key of a treafure which he neither ufes nof '
imparts. From him it falls to fome other
owner, lefs vain but more negligent, who con-
fiders it as ufelefs lumber, and rids himfelf of the
incumbrance.

Yet there are fome works which the Authoi-s
muft confign unpublilhed to pofterity, however
uncertain 'be the event, however hopelefs be the
ttuft. He that writes the hiftory of his own
times, if he adheres lleadily to truth, will
write that which his own times will not eafily
endure. He muft be content to repofite his
book till all private paflions fliall ceafe, and lovC'
and hatred give way to curiofity.

But many leave the labours of half their life
to their executors and to chance, becauf^ they

D ^ will

> t'

f t I'tt

^ THE IDLER. N<^6^

will not fend them abroad unfinifhcd, and are
unable to finifli thcni, having prefcribed tQ
thcmfelvcs fuch a degree of cxaftnefs as human
diligence can fcarcely attain. L/oyd, fays Burnet^
did not lay out his learning with t hi fame diligence at
he laid it in. He was always hefitating and en-
quiring, raifing objections and removing them,
and waiting for clearer light and fuller difcovery.
Baker, after many years paft in Biography, left
his manufcripts to be buried in a hbrary, bc-
caufe that was impcrfeft which could never be
perfeftcd.

Of thefe learned men, let thofe who afpire
to the fame praife, imitate the diligence, and
avoid the fcrupulofity. Let it be always remem-
beicd that life is Ihort, that knowledge is end-
Jcfs, and that many doubts deferve not to be
cleared. Let thofe whom nature and ftudy have
qualified to teach mankind, tell us what they
have learned tvhile they are yet able to tell it,
and truft their reputation only to themfelves,.

Numb.

N^fiS^

THE IDLERv

Numb. 66. Saturday, 7««^ 21,^ 1759,

NO complaint is more frequently repeated
among the learned, than that of the wafte
made by time among the labours of Antiquity,
Of thofe v*^ho once filled the civilized world with:
their renown^ nothing is now left but their
names, which are left only to raife defires that
never can be fatisfied, and forrow which never
can be comforted.

Had all the writings of the ancients been
faithfully delivered down from age to age, had
the Alexandrian library been fpared, and the
Palatini repofitories remained unimpaired,, how
much might we have known of which we are
now doomed to be ignorant ! how many la*
borious enquiries, and dark conjeftures, how
many collations of broken hints and mutilated
paffages, might have been fpared I We (hould
have known the Succeffions of Princes, the Re-
volutions of Empire, the Aftions of the Great,
and O^ vions of the Wife, the Laws and Con-
Ititutions of every State,, and the Arts by which
public Grandeur and Happinefs areacquired and
preferved ; we fhould have traced the progref*
©f Life, fcea Colonies ftom-diflaut regions take

poffcllioil^

THE IDLER.. N^66i

nofleflion of European defeits, and troops of^
Savages fettled into Commumties by the dcfire:
of k«ieping what they had acquired ;. we Ihoiild-
have traced the gradations of civility, and tra^
veiled upward to the original of things by the
light of Hiftory, till in remoter times ithad ghm-
mered in fable, and at laft funk into darknefs.

If the> works, of imagination had been lefs
diminilhcd, it is likely that all. future tirnes^
might have been fupplied with inexhauftible
amufement by the fidions of Antiquity. The
Tragedies oi Sopbocles znd Euripides would have
(hewn all the ftronger paffions in all their diver-
fities; and the Comedies o( Me^ander woM
have fumifhed all the maxims of domcftic lifei
Nothing would have been nsceffary to moral
wifdom but to have ftudied thefe great Mailers,
whofe knowledge would have guided doubt, and
whofe authority would have file need cavils.

Such are the thoughts that rife in every Stu-
dent, when his curiofity-is eluded, and his
fcarches are fruftrated; yet it may peijiaps be
doubted, whether our-complaints ace not fome-
times inconfideratc, and whetlier we do not
imagine more evil tlwn- we feeL Gfthe An-
cients, enough remains to excite our emulation,
and direa our endeavoursi Many of the works
which time has left us, we know to have been
Ihofethat were raoft efteemed, and which An.
tiquity itfelf confideied as Models j fo that,

h^Yinjf

N'66. THE IDLERV %

having the- Originals, wc may without rauck-
regret lofe the imitations. The obfcurity which
the want of contemporary writers often produces,,
only darkens finglc paflages, and thofc comr
monly of flight importance. The general ten-
dency of every piece may be known, andthongU'
that dihgence deferves praife which leaves- no-
thing unexamined, yet its mtfcarriages are not
much to. be lamented ; for the moft ufeful truths,
are always univerfal,. and uncomicfted with. acci-
dents and cuftoms;

Such is the general confpiracy of human na«-
ture againft contemporary merit, that it we had
inherited from Antiquity enough to afford em-
ployment for the laborious, and amufement for
the idle, I know not what room would have been
left for modern genius or modern induflry;
almoft ev-ery fubjeft would have been pre-occu*
pied, and every flyle would have been fixed by
a- precedent from which few would have ven»
tured to depart. Every writer would h?ve had
a rival, whofe fuperlority was already acknow-
ledged, and ta whofe fame his work would,
even before it was feen, be marked out for a

iacrifice.

"We fee how little the united experience of
mankind have been able to add to the heroine
charaaers difplayed by Homer, and how few
incidents the fertile imagination of modern Italy

ha9

• m

M '

t4f ' THE IDLER?. N<^66.

has yet produced, which may not be found!
in the liiad zndOdyJpy, It is likely, that if all
the works of the Athenian Philofophers had beea
extant, Malbranche and Locke would have been^
condemned to be filent readers of the ancient
Metaphyficians ; and it is apparent, that if the
old writers had all remained, the Idler could, not:
have written a difq^uiiition oix the lofs*.

^®®;^®®®©®®®®®®©^

Numb. 67. Saturday, July a8, 1759^
To the IDLER*.

Sir,

IN the obfervatioiis which you have made ow
the various opinions and purfuits of man*'
kind, you muft often, in literary converfations,
have met with men who confider Diflipation as
the great enemy of the intellect ; and maintain^,
that in proportion as the ftudent keeps himfelf
within the bounds of a fettled plan, he will more
certainly advance in fcience..

This opinion is, perhaps, generally true;
yet, when we contemplate the inquifitive nature

*<*

N'»67-. THE IDLER* 65:

of the human mind, and its perpetual impa-
tience of all reftraint, it may be doubted whe-
ther the faculties may not be contra£led by con-
fining the attention ; and whether it may not
fometimes be proper to rilque the certainty of
of little for the chance of mucli* Acquilitions^
of knowledge, like blazes of genius, are often
fortuitous. Thofe who had propofed to them-
felves a methodical courfe of reading, light by
accident on a new book, which feizes their
thoughts and kindles their curiofity, and opens
an unexpefted profpedt, to which the way whicli
they had prefcribed to themfclves would never
have conducted them.

To inforce and illuftrate my meaning, I have
lent you a Journal of three days employment,
found among the papers of a late intimate ac-
quaintance ; who, as will plainly appear, was a
man of vaft defigns, and of vaft performances,
though he fometimes defigned one thing and
performd another. I allow that the Speeiatar^s
inimitable produ£lions of this kind may welldif-
courage all fubfequent Journalifls j but, as th©
fvibjed of this is different from that of any which
thr Speefator has given us, I leave it to you to
publiftior fupprcfs it.

** Mem, The following three days I propofe
to give up to reading ; and intend, after all the
delays which have obtruded themfelves upon
me, to finilh. my E^ayL on the Extent of the Mm-

tat

66^ THE IDLER. K« 67".

tal powers ; to revife my Treatlfe on Legid ; tG^
begin the Epkk w^>ich I have long^ projcftcd j
ta proceed' in my pcrufal of the Scriptures whli^
Grotius's Comment', and at my leifure to regale
myfelf with the works of Clafficks, ancient and:
modern, and to finilh my Oife to Jfironmy.

^* Monday. -J Deii'gned to rife at iix,. but, by
my fervant's lazinefs, my fire was not lighted-
before eight, when I dropped into a flumber
that lafted till nme ; at which time I rofe, and;,
after breakfaft, at ten fat down to ftiidy, pro-
pofing to begin upon my EJfay ; but finding occa-
fioa to. confult apaflage in Plaio,. was abforbed*
in the perufai of the Republkk till twelve. I had-
wegleAed to forbid company, and now enters
Tom Carelefs, who, afte^ half an hour's chat,
infifted upon my going with him to enjoy an
abfurd charaaer, that he had appointed, by an
advertifement, to meet him at a particular cof-
fee-houfe. After we had for fome entertained
ourfelves with him, we fallied out, defigning
each to repair to his home ; but, as it fell oun
coming up in the ilrcet to a man, whofe fled
by his fide declared him a butcher, we overheard
him opening an Addrcfs to a genteelifti fort of
young Lady, whom he walked with : ** Mifs,
•♦Though your father is mailer of a coal'
*« lighter, and you will be a great- fortune, 'tis
** true; yet 1 wilh I may be cut into quarters
« if it is. not only Love, andnot Lucre of Gain,

N«^67. THE IDLER. tf

" that is my motive fer offering terms of mac-
" riage.'* As, this Lover proceeded in his fpeech,
he mifled us the length of three ftreets^ in admi*
ration at the unlimited power of the tender paf-
fion, that could foftcii even the heart of a
butcher. We then adjourned to a tavern, and
from thence to one of the publick gardens,
where I was regaled with a moll amufing
variety of men pofleffing great talents, fo dif-
colouredby affeftation, that they only made them?
eminently ridiculous ; fhallow things, who, by
continual diflipation, had annihilated the few
ideas nature had given them, and yet were cele-
brated for wonderful pretty Gentlemen -„ young
Ladies extolled for tlieir Wit,, becaufe they were
handfome ; illiterate empty women as well as-
men, in high life, admired for their knowledge,
from their being refolutely pofitive ; and womeiL
of real underftanding fo far from plealing the pQ»
lite* million, that they frightened them away^
and were left folitary. When we quitted this
entertaining fcene, Tom prefled lae, irrefiflibly, to-
fup with him. I reached home at twelve, and
then refleded, tliat though indeed I had, by re-
marking various charaders, improved my in*
fight into human nature, yet ftiil I had negle^ed
the ftudies propofed^ and accordingly took up?
my freatife on Logick, to give it the intended re*
vifal, but found my fpirits too much agitated^

aad;

iv.

it!

jij

Ail

t^ THE IDLER. N^'e;-.

and could not forbear a few fatyrical lincs^ ua-
der the title of The Evening's IP'alk,

*^7ufJ'day,] At breakfaft, feeing my Ode to
Jftronomy lying on my defk, I was ft ruck with a;
train of ideas, that 1 thought might contribute
to its improvement. T immediately rang my
bell to forbid all vifitants, when my fervant
opened the door, with, ** Sir, Mr. Jeffery
GapeJ'* My cup dropped out of one ha«d, and-
my poem out of the other. I couW fcarce alk
him to fit i he told me he was going to walk,
but as there was a likelihood of rain, he would:
€t with me j he faid, he intended at firft to have
called at Mr. Vacant' s, but as he had not feent
me a great while, he did not mind coming out of
his way to wait on me ; I made hkn a bow, but
thanks for the favour ftuck in my throat. I
afked him if he had been to the coffee-houfe^
He replied, two hours.

•* Under the oppreflion of this dull interrupt
tion, I fat looking; wifhfully at the clock ; for
which,, to increafe my fatisfaftion, I had chofea
the infcription,, Jtrt is long, and Life is Jhort ;
exchanging queftions and anfwers at long inter-
vals, and not without fome hints that the wea-
ther-glafs promifed fair weather. At half an-
hour after three he told me he would trefpafs on
me for a dinner, and deiired roe to ftnd to his
houfe for a bundle of papers, about uiclofmg a;
common upon his eftatc,. which he would read
"- to-

N«^67. THE IDLER. .«^

to me in the evening. I declared myfelf bufy,
and Mr. Gn^c went away. '

" Having dined, to compofe my chagrin I
took up A^/V^iV, and feveral other CJafficks, but
<:ould not calm my mind, or proceed in my
fcheme. At about five I laid my hand on a Bi-
ble that lay on my table, at firft with coldnefs
and inrenfibility ; but was imperceptibly engaged
in a clofe attention to its fublime morality, and
felt my heart expanded by warm philanthropy,
znA exalted to dignity of Tcntiment^ I then cen-
fured my too great folicitude, and my difguft
conceived at my acquaintance, who had been fo
far from defigning to ofFend, that he only meant
to fliew kindnefs and refped. In this ft rain of
mind I wro*e An Effay on Benevolence, and jiK
Elegy onfuhlunary Difappointments, When I had
ilnilhed thefc, at eleven, I fupped, and recolleft-
td how little I had adhered to my plan, and al-
moft queftioned the pofTibility of purfuing any
fettled and uniform de/ign ; however, I wa? not
jfo far perfuaded of the truth of thefe fuggeftions,
put that I refolved to try once more at my
jfchemc. As I obferved the moon Ihining
[through ray window, from a calm and bright
^y fpangled with innumerable ftars, I indulged
^pleafing meditation on the-fplendid fccne, and
inifhed my Ode to 4/ironomy,

'* ff^ednefiay.] Rofe at feven, and employed
phrce hours ia perufal of the Scriptures with

Gmlus's

si;

^ THE IDLER. N''^?,

Gntim^ Ccmmmt ; and after breakfaft feU into
meditation concerning my projefled £p"* ! »' j
being in fon>c doubt as to the particular htes of
fome heroes, whom I propofcd to celebrate,
confulted B.ylc and M>r>ri, and «" -W^
two hours in examining various hvcs and cha-
nfters, but then rcfolved to go to my employ-
ment. When I wasfeated at my deAc.and began
to feel the glowing fucceffion of poet.cal ideas.
my fervant brought me a letter frorn a Lawyer,
requiring my inftant attendance at Or,, , Inn tot
Sf an hour! 1 went full of vexat.on. and was
involved in bulinefs till e.ght at night, and
thin, being too tnuch fatigued to ftudy, fupped,

and went to bed. ...

Here my friend's Journal concludes, wh.ch
«rhaDS is pretty much a piftute of the manner
rSch -any U-te their ftudies. I there-
fore refolved to fend it you, imag.nmg, that .f
vou think it worthy of appearing in your paper.
feme of your Readers may receive entert-.nment
bT recognizing a refemblance between my
Send's condua and their own. t muft be left
tL the JJUr accurately to afceruin the proper me-
^od, of advancing in literature; but thrs one
„ofition. deducible firom what has been fa.d
above, may. I think, be reafonably afferted. that
K;^^ finds himfelf ftrongly ^^ttr^aed to a,^
particular My. though U may happe^ to
e,tf ofhispropofedfcheme, ,f »t is nottr.fl.nj

tN'tr;. THE IDLEIL ^t

'or vicious, had better continue his application
to it, fincc it is likely that he will, with much
more cafe and expedition, attain that which a
warm inclination Simulates him to purfuc, than
that at which a prefcribed law compels him to
toil.

I am, &c

Numb. 68. Saturday, ^ugufi 4, 1759.

AMONG the ftudies which have cxcrcifcd
the ingenious and the learned for mons
than three centuries, none has been marc diligently
or more fuccefsfully cultivated than the art of
Tranflation ; by which the impediments which
bar the way to I'cience are, in forac mcafure, re*
moved, and the multiplicity of languages be-
comes lefs incommodious.

Of every other kind of writing the ancients
have left us models which all fucceeding ages
have laboured to imitate ; but Tranflation may
juftly be claimed by tlie modems as their own«
In the firft ages of the worJd inftrudion was
commonly oral, and learning traditional, and
what was not written could not be tranflated.
When alphabetical writing made the conveyance
of opinions and the tranfmiflion df events more
eafy and certain, literature did not flourilh in
«norc than one country at once, or diilant na-
tions

''^i\

^, THE IDLER. ' N^ 68.

tions had little commerce with each other ; and
thofe few, whom curiofity fent abroad iii queft of
improvement, 4.;ir.uie(' their acquif.tions in their
own manner, def.o.. perhaps to be confidered
as the inventors of that which Uiey had learned

from others. „ t. i.

TheGr^/^jforatiraetraveiledintoE^^^^butthey

tranflated no books frou^ the i^gyptiat^ language ;
and when the Macedonians had overthrown the
Empire o(Perfta, the countries that became fub-
xcd to Grecian dominion ftudicd only the Gre^
dan literature. The books of the conquered
nations, if they had any among them, f^n*^ into
oblivion i Gre.ce confidered herfelf as the Mil-
trefs, if not as the Parent, of aits ; her language
contained all that was fuppofed to be known ;
and, except the facred Writings of the Old 1 ef-
lament, I know not that the Library of Alexan^
dria adopted any thing from a foreign tongue.

The Romans confefled themfelves the fcholars
of the Greeks, and do not appear to have expeaed,
what has fince happened, that the ignorance
6f fucceeding ages would prefer them to their
teachers. Every man who in Rome afpired to
the praife of literature, thought it ncceflary to
learn Gr4eh and had no need of vcrfions when
they could lludy the originals. Tranllation,
however, was not wholly neglefted. Drama-
tick poems could be underftood by the people
in no language but their own j and the Romans
r »t;r««8 #»nt«>rtained with the Tragedies

N^eS. THE IDLER. jj

of Euripides and the Comedies of Minand&i
Other works wet j fometimes attempted : in an
old Scholiaft there is mention of a Lntin lliad^
and we have not wholly loft Tully'i verfion of the
Poem of Aratut \ but it does not appear that any
man grew eminent by interpreting another ; and
perhaps it was more frequent to tranflate for ex*
crcife or amufement than for fame.

The Arahi were the fifft nation Who felt the
ardour of Tranf. aion ; when they had fubducid
the Eaftern provinces of the Gretk Empire, they
found their captives wifer than themfelves, and
made hafte to relieve their wants by imparted
knowledge. They difcovered that many might
grow wife by the labour of a few ; and that im-
provements might be made with fpeed, when
they had the knowledge of former ages in their
own language. They therefore made hdfte to
lay hold on Medicine and Philofophy, and
turned their chief authors into Arabic. Whether
they attempted the poets is not known ; their
literary zeal was vehement, but it was Ihort,
and probably expired before they had time to
add the arts of elegance to thofe of neceflity.

The ftudy of ancient literature was inter-
rupted in Europe jy the irruption of the North-
ern nations, who fubverted the Roman Empire,
and ei:eaed new kingdoms with new languages.
It is not ftrange, that fuch confufion Ihould
fufpend literary attention ; thofe who loft, and
Vol.11. £ . thofe

^4 THE IDLER. N" 68.

thofe who gained dominion had immediate diffi-
culties to encounter, and immediate mifcrics to
rcdrels, and had little Icifurc, amidft the vio-
lence of war, the trepidation of flight, the dif-
trcflcs of forced migration, or the tumults of
oinfettled conqucft, to enquire after fpcculativc
truth, to enjoy the amufement of imaginary ad-
ventures, to know the hiftory of former ages, or
ftudy the events of any other lives. But no
fooner had this chaos of dominion funk into or-
der, than learning began again to flourifh in
the calm of peace. When life and poffeffions
were fecure, convenience and enjoyment were
foop fought, learning was found the highcft
gratification of the mind, and Tranflation be-
came one of the means by which it was im-
parted.

At laft, by a coucurrencc of many caufes, the
European world was rouzed from its lethargy j
thofe arts which had been long obfcurely ftudicd
in the gloom of monafteries became the general
favourites of mankind ; every nation vied with
its neighbour for the prize of learning ; the epi-
demical emulation fprcad from South to North,
and Curiofity and TranHiition found their way
10 Britain.

Numb.

N*69.

THE IDLER.

Numb. 69. Saturday, Juguft 11, i^^g.

HE that reviews the progrefs of Englijh Lite-
rature, will find that Tranflation was
very early cultivated among us, but that fomc
principles, cither wholly erroneous or too far
extended, hindered our fucccfs from being al-
ways equal to our diligence.

Chauart who is generally confidercd as the
Father of our Poetry, has left a Verfion o{ B e-
tius on the Comforts of Philofophy, the book which
fcems to have been the favourite of the middle
ages, which had been tranflated into Saxtn by
King Alfred^ and iiluftrated with a copious
Comment afcribed to Aquinas. It may be fuppofed
XhdXChaueer would apply more than common at-
tention to an author of fo much celebrity ; yet
he has attempted nothing higher than a verfion
ftri£tly literal, and has degraded the poetical
parts to profe, that the conftraint of verfificatioa
might not obftrud his zeal for fidelity.

CaAf/tf« taught us Typography about the year
1474. The firft book printed in Englijh was a
tranflation* Caxton was both the Tranflator and
Printer of the Dejiru^ion ofTroye, a book which,
in that infancy of learning, was confidered as
the befl account of the fabulous ages, and

E 2 which,

I 1

Jlii^a£ jSm. I

56 THE IDLER. N'^69.

which, though now driven out of notice by Au-
thors of no greater ufc or value, ftill continued
to be read in CaxtorCs Englljh to the beginning of
the prefent century.

Caxton proceeded as he began, and, except
the Poems oiGower 2ind Chaucer^ printed no-
thing but Tranilations from the French^ in
which the original is fo fcrupuloufly followed,
that they afford us little knowledge of our own
language; though the words are Englifi, the
phrafe is foreign.

As Learning advanced, new works were
adopted into our language, but I think with lit-
tle improvement of the art of Tranilation,
though foreign nations and other languages of-
fered us models of a better method ; till in the
zcTQ of Elizabeth we began to find that greater
I'^erty was neceffary to elegance, and that ele-
gance was neceflary to general reception ; fome
eflays were then made upon the Italian Poets,
whicii deferve the praife and gratitude of Pofte-

lity.

But the old praAice was not fuddenly for-
faken; Holland filled the nation with Uteral
Tranilation, and, what is yet more ftrange, the
fame exadtnefs was obllinately praftifcd in the
verfions of the Poets. This abfurd labour of
conft ruing into rhyme was countenanced by
Jon/on in his verfion of Horace ; and whether
jt be that more men have learning than ge-
nius

N''69. THE IDLER. 77

nius, or that the endeavours of that time were
more direfted towards knowledge than delight,
the accuracy of Jonfon found more imitators
than the elegance of Fairfax ; and Aiay, Sandys,
and Holiday, confined themfelves to the toil of
rendering line for line, not indeed with equal
felicity, for May and Sandys were Poets, and
Holiday only a fcholar and a critick.

Feltham appears to consider it as the efta-
blilhed law of Poetical Tranllation, that the
lines fhould be neither more nor fewer than
thofe of the original ; and fo long had this pre-
judice prevailed, that Denham praifes Fanjhaui'a
verlion of Guarini as the example of a mw and
noble way, as the firft attempt to break tlie boun,-
daries of cuftom, and aflert the natural freedom
of the Mufe.

In the general emulation of wit and genius
which the feftivity of the Refloration produced^
the Poets fhook off their conftraint, and con«
fidered Tranflation as no longer confined to fer-
vile clofenefs. But reformation is feldom the
work of pure virtue or unaflifled reafon. 'J'ranf-
lation was improved more by accident than con-
viftion. The writers of the foregoing age had
at leaft learning equal to iheir genius, and lx>
ing often more able to explain the fentiments or
jlluilrate the allulions of the Ancients, than to
exhibit their graces and transfulc their ipirit,
were perhaps willing fometimcs to conceal their

t. 3 want

I .

^'wM

-■9

•M

h-'^^^^l

P^^^H

■

^^H

■MBam

^^^^1

78 THE IDLER. N* 69.

want of Poetry by profufion of Literature, and
therefore tranflated literally, that their fidelity
might ihelter their inflpidity or harlhncfs. The
Wits of Charles's time had feldom more than
flight and f uperficial views, and their care was to
hide their want of learning behind the colours
of a gay imagination ; they therefore tranflated
always with freedom, fometimes with licenti-
oufnefs, and perhaps expefted that their readers
Ihould accept fprightlinefs for knowledge, and
confider ignorance and miftake as the impatience
and negligence of a mind too rapid to ftop at
difficulties, and too elevatjd to ■ efcend to mi-
ll utenefs.

Thus was tranflation made more eafy to the
Writer, and more delightful to the Reader ; and
tbcre is no wonder if eafe and pleafure have
found their advocates. The paraphraftic liber-
ties have been almoft univerfally admitted ; and
She*baurny whofe learning was eminent, and who
had no need of any excufe to pafs flightly over
obicurities, is the only Writer who in later
times has attempted to juftify or revive the an-
cient feverity.

There is undoubtedly a mean to be obferved.
Dryden faw very early that clofenefs beft pre-
ferved an Author's fenfe, and that freedom beft
exhibited his fpirit; he therefore will deferve
the higheft praife, who can give a reprefenta-

„ tion

N°69. THE IDLER. 79

tion at once faithful and pltafing, who can con-
vey the fame thoughts with the fame graces, and
who, when he tranflates, changes nothing but the
language.

Numb. 70. Saturday, AnguJ} 18, 1759.

FE W faults of flyie, whether real or ima-
ginary, excite the malignity of a more
numerous clafs of readers, than the ufe of hard
words.

If an Author be fuppofed to involve his
thoughts in voluntary obfcuiity, and to ob*
ftru^l, by unnecefTaiy difficulties, a mind ea-
ger in purfuit of truth ; iF he writes not to
make others learned, but to boafl the learn-
ing which he poflefles himfelf, and wifhes to
be admired rather than underftood ; he coun-
teraiSts the firft end of writing, and juftly fuf-
fers the utmoft feverity of cenfure, or the
more affli£live feverity of negiedt.

But words are only hard to thofe who do not
underftand them ; and the Critick ought always
to enquire, whether he is incommoded by the
fault of the Writer, or by his own.

Every Author does not write for every Rea-
der ; many queftions are fuch as the illiterate
part of mankind can have neither intereil nor
pleafure in difcuffing, and which therefore it

E 4 would

fsmm

?9 THE IDLER. N^ 70.

would he an ufelefs endeavour to level with
common minds by tiicfome circumlocutions
or laborious explanations ; and many fubjefls
cf general ufe may be treated in a different
manner, as the book is intended for the learned
or the ignorant, Diffufion and expHcatioji are
neceffary to the inftruftion of thofe who, being
neither able nor accuftomed to think for them-
felves, can learn only what is expreflly taught j
but they who can form parallels, difcover con-»
fequences, and multiply conclufions, are beft
pjeafed with involution of argument and com-
prciTion of thought } they delire only to receive
the feeds of knowledge which they may branch
Qut by their own power, to have the way to
truth pointed out which they can then follow
without a guide.

The Guardian dire<^s one of his pupils to
think with the wife, but /peak with the vulgar.
This is a precept fpecious enough, but not al-
ways practicable. Difference of thouglits will
produce difference of language. He that thinks
\yith more extent than another will want words
of larger meaning ; he that thinks with more
fubtilty will leek for terms of more nice difcri-
minatioft; and where is the wonder, fince
words are but the images of things, that he who
never krkew th^e originals 0\ould not k.now the
)ie& I

QPI^I

I<J°'J(5,

THE IDLER.

Yet vanity Inclines us to find faults any where
rather than in ourfelves. He that reads and glows'
no wifer, feldom lufpe£ts his own deficiency :'
but complains of hard words and obfcure feii-
tences, and afks why books are written which
cannot be underftood.

Among the hard words which are no longer
to be ufed, it has been long the cuftom to num-
ber terms of art. Every man (fays Swift J is more
able to explain thefubjeii of an art than itsprofijfoys ;.
a Farmer will tell you, in two ivords^ that he has
broken his kg j hut a Surgeon, after a long difcourfe,
Jball leave you as ignorant as you were before, I'his-
could only have been faid by fuch an exa£l ob-
ferver of life, in gratification of malignity, or m
oftentation of acutenefs. Every Ifour producer
inftances of the neceflity of terms of art. Mai'-
kind could never corrfpire in uniform affeda-
tion ; it is not but by neceflity that every fcience;
and every trade has its peculiar language. They
that content themfelves with general ideas may-
reft in general terms ; but thofe whole ftudics .
or employments force them upon elofer infpec-r
tion, muft have names for particular parts, andi
words by which they may exprefs various modes-
of combination, fuch as none but themfelves-
have occafion to confider.

Artifts are indeed iometim^s ready to fuppofe
that none can be Ihangers to words to which
themfelves are familiar, talk Ut an incidental

£ 5 ea(piceir

•1 i

if I

_ ?|

«2 THE IDLER. N" 70.

enquirer as they talk to one another, and make
their knowledge ridiculous by injudicious obtru*
iion. An art cannot be taught but by its pro-
per terms i but it is not always necedary to teach
the art.

That the vulgar exprefs their thoughts clearly
is far from Uxat. ; and what perfpicuity can be
found among them proceeds not from the eaiinefs
of their language, but the fhallownefs of their
thoughts. He that fees a building as a common
fpe»£tator, contenti- himfelf with relating that it
is great or little, mean or fplendid, lofty or low ;
all thcfe words are intelligible and common, but
they convey nc diftinft or limited ideas ; if he
attempts, without the terms of architefture, to
delineate the parts, or enumerate the ornaments,
his narration at once becomes unintelligible.
The terms, indeed, generally difpleaf);, becaufe
they are vinderftood by few ; but thi^ are little
tmderflood only becaufe few, that^ook upon an
edifice, examine its parts, or analyfe its columns
into their members.

The ftate of every other art is the fame j as it
is curforily furveyed or accurately examined,
different forms of expreffion become proper. la
Morality it is one thing to difcufs the niceties
of the cafuift, and another to dircft the prac-
tice of common life. In agriculture, he that
inflrufts the farmer to plough and fow, may
convey his notions witliout the words which he

would

N*70. THE IDLER. , 85

would find ncceflary in explaining to Philofo-
phers the procefs of vegetation ; and if he, who
has nothinf^ to do but to be honed by the fhorteft
way, will perplex his mind with fubtile fpecu-
lations ; or if he, whofe talk is to reap and threfh,
will not be contented without examining the
evolution of the feed and circulation of the fap,
the writers whom either fliall confult are very
little to be blame^, though it fhould fometimcs
happen that they are read in vain.

Numb. 71. Saturday, Jitigtdfl 2^^ 1759.

DICK Shifter was born in Cheap/tde^
and, having pafled reputably through ail
the clafles of St. Paulas fchool, has been for fome
years a Student in the Temple, He is of opinion
that intcnfe application dulls the faculties, and
thinks it necellary to temper the feverity of the
Law by books that engage the mind, b it do not
fatigue it. He has therefore made a copious col-
ledtion of Plays, Poems, and Romginces, to
which he has recourfe when he fancies him-
felf tired with Statutes and Reports i and he fei-
dom enquires very nicely whether he is weary or
idle,

E 6 Dick

ilil

Ml,

H THE IDLER. K^-^^^

Dick has received from his favourite Authors

very ftrong impreffions of a country life ; anct

though his furtheft excurfions have been to

Greenwich on one fido» and CM/ea on the

other, he has talked for feveral years, with

great pomp of language and elevation of fenti-

ments, about a ftate too high- for contempt

and too^Iow for enry, about homely quiet and

Wamelefs fimplieity, paftoral delights and rural*

innocence.. •

His friends, who had eft^tes in, the coun--
try often invited him to pafs the fummec
among them> but fbmething or other had al-
ways hindered him ; and he confidered, that
torefide in th^houfe of another man, was to.
incur a kuid of dependence, inconfiftent with
that laxity of Ufe which he had imaged- as the
chief good*

This fummer he refolved to be happy, and'
procured a lodging to be taken for him at a.
foluary houfe, fituated about- thirty miles from-
LoKdo^, on the banks of a fmall river, with^
cornr fields before it, and a hill on each Mo-
covered with wood. He concealed the place of
his retirement, that none might violate his ob-
fcurity, and^promifedhimfelf many a happy day
when he Ihould hide himfelf among the trees'
md contemplate the tumults and vexations of
thd tornit.

msr

N* 7T,

THE IDLER.

He ilepped into the poft-chaife with his heart
beating and his eyes fparkling, was conveyed
through many rarieties of dehghtful profpe^s^
few hills and meadows, corn-fields and pafture,
fucceed each other, and for four hours charged
none of his Poets with fiction or exaggeration.
He was now within fix miles of happincfs, when,
having never felt fo much agitation before, he
began to wifli his journey at an end ; and the
iUft hour was paffed in changing his poflure
and quarreling with his driver.

An hour may be tedious, but cannot be longi
he at length alighted at his new dwelling*
and was received as he expefted ; he looked
round upon the hilh and rivukts, but his
joints were fliff and his mufcles fore^ and his
firft requeft was to fee his bed-chamber.

He refted well, and afcribed the foundnefs of
his (lieep to the ftillnefs of the country. He
expeded from that time nothing but nights of
quiet and days of rapture, and as foon as he had'
rifen wrote an account of his new flate to one.
of his friends in the Tm^ie..

Dear Frank,
I never pitied thee hi/ore, lam now as I could^
mjh every man of wifdom and virtue to be, in the
regions of calm content and placid meditation ; with
all the beauties of Nature foliating my notice, anct
nil the divfrfities of Pleafure courting my acceptance ^

■0

>• I

16 THE IDLER. N*»7i.

the birds are chirping in the hedges, and the flowers
blooming in the mead \ the breeze is whtjiling in the
woods f and the Sun dancing on the water, / can
now fay with truth, that a man capable of enjoying
the purity of happinef, is never more bufy than in his
hours of/ei/urey nor evir lefs folitary than in a place
of folitude,

lam, dearFKAtiK, &c.

When he had fent away his letter, he walked
into the wood with fome inconvenience from
the furze that pricked his Jegs, and the briars
that fcratched his face ; he at laft fat down un-
der a tree, and heard with great delight a Ihower,
by which he was not wet, rattling among the
branches ; This, faid he, is the true image of
obfcurity; we hear of troubles and commo-
tions, but never feci them.

His amufement did not overpower the calls
of nature, and he therefore went back to order
his dinner. He knew that the country produces
whatever is eaten or drunk ; and imagining that
he was now at the fource of luxury, refolved to
indulge himfclf with dainties which he fuppofed
might be procured at a price next to nothing, if
any price at all was expcfted ; and intended to
amaze the rufticks with his generofity, by pay-
ing more than they would aft. Of twenty
dilhcs which he named, he was amazed to find

that

N'^yi'

THE IDLER.

that fcarce one was to be had ; and heard with
aftonifhment and indignation, that all the fruits
of the earth were lold at a higher price than in
tlie ftreets of London,

His meal was fhort and fullen ; and here tired
again to his tree, to enquire how dearnefs could
be confiftent with abundance, or how fraud
fhould be pra£li^^d by fimplicity. He was not
fatisfied with hib own fpeculations, and return-
ing home early in the evening, went a while from
window to window, and found that he wanted
fomething to do.

He enquired for a News-paper, and was told
that farmers never minded news, but that they
could fend for it from the ale-houfe. A mef-
fenger was difpatched, who ran away at full-
fpeed, but loitered an hour behind the hedges,
and at lafl coming back with his feet purpofely
bemired, inftead of expreffing the grat'tude
which Mr. Shifter expe£led for the bounty of a
Ihilling, faid that the night was wet, and the
way dirty, and he hoped that his worlhip would
not think it much to give him half a crown.

Dick now went to bed with fome abatement
of his expeftations ; but fleep, I know not how,
revives our hopes and rekindles our defires.
He rofe early in the morning, furveyed the
landfcapej and was pleafed. He walked out, and
paflfed from field to field, without obferving any
beaten path, and wondered that he had not ^ttn

the

,«U^'V.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

11.25

2.2

— 6"

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.^J.

C-?/

to THE IDLER. N<^yy,

tlie fhepherdcfles dancing, nor heard the fwalns
piping to their flocks.

At laft he faw fome reapers and harveft -wo-
men at dinner. Here, faid he, are the true
Arcadians, and advanced courteoufly towards
them, as afraid of confufing them by the dignity
of his prcfence. They acknowledged his fupe-
riority by no other token than that of afkinghim
for fomethmg to drink. He imagined that he
had now purchafed the privilege of difcourfc, and
began to defcend to familiar queftions, endeavour-
ing to accommodate his difcourfe tc the grolT-
nefs of ruftick underftandings. The clowns
foon found that he did not know whtat from rye^
and began to defpife him; one of the boys, by
pretending to fhew him a bird's neft, decoyed
liim into a ditch, and one of the wenches fold
him a bargain.

This walk had given him no great pleafure ;
but he hoped tafind other rufticks lefs coarfe of
manners, and lefs mifchievou^ of difpofitionv
Next morning he was accofted by an Attorney,
who told him, thatunlefs he made Farmer Dob-
fin fatisfaftion for trampling his grafs, he had
orders to iiidia: him. Shifter was offended, but
not terrified ; and, telling the^ Attorney that he
was himfclf a Lawyer, talked fo volubly of
Pettifoggers and Barraters, that he drove him
away..

Finding;

THE IDLER.

71. THL IDLER. 89

Finding his walks thus interrupted, he was
inclined to ride, and being pieafed with the ap-
pearance of a horfe that was grazing in a neigh-
bouring meadow, enquired the owner, who war-
ranted him found, and would not fell him but
that he was too fine for a plain man. Dick paid
down the price, and riding out, to enjoy the
evening, fell with his new horfe into a ditch ;
they got out with difficulty, and as he was going
to mount again, a countryman looked at the
horfe, and perceived him to be blind. Dick
went to the feller, and demanded back his
money ; but was told, that a man who rented
his ground muft do the beft for himfelf, that his
landlord had his rent though the year was bar-
ren, and that whether horfes had eyes or no, he
ihould fell them to the higheft bidder.

Shifter now began to be tired with ruftick
fimplicity ; and on the fifth day took pofleflion
again of his Chambers, and bade farewell to the
regions of calm Content and placid Meditation.

Nv^t&^i

THE IDLER.

72,

Numb. 72. Saturday, Sepumber i, 1759.

TiyT E N complain of nothing more frequently
-LVX than of deficient memory; and, indeed,
every one finds that many of the ideas which he
defiled to retain have flipped irretrievably away ;
that the acquifitions of the mind are fometimes
equally fugitive with the gifts of fortune; and
that a fhort intermifTion of attention more cer-
tamly JefTens knowledge than impairs an eflate.
To afTifl this wcaknefs of our nature many
methods have been propofed, all of which may
be juftly fufpeacd of being inefFeftual ; for no art
of memory, however its effefts have been boafted
or admired, has been ever adopted into general
ufe, nor have thofe who pofTelTed it appeared to
excel others in readincfs of recoUeaion or mul-
tiphcy of attainments.

There is another art of which all have felt
the want, though Themiftodes only confelTed it.
Wc fufFer equal pain from the pertinacious ad-
hefion of unwelcome images, as from the eva-
nefcence of thofe which are pleafing and ufeful ;
and it may be doubted whether welhould be more
benefited by the art of Memory or the art of
Forgctfiilncfs.

Forget-

L-.

N'72. THE IDLER. 91

Forgctfulnefs is neccflary to Remembrance.
Ideas are retained by renovation of that impref-
fion which time is always wearing away, and
which new images are llriving to obliterate. If
ufelefs thoughts could be expelled from the
mind, all the valuable parts of our knowledge
would more frequently recur, and every recur-
rence would reinftatc them in their former place.

It is impoflible to confider, without fome re-
gret, how much might have been learned, or
how much might have been invented, by a ra-
tional and vigorous application of time, ufcleflly
or painfully pafTed in the revocation of events,
which have left neither good nor evil behind
them, in grief for misfortunes either repaj/jd or
irreparable, in refentment of injuries known
only to ourfelves, of which death has put the
authors beyond our power.

Philofophy has accumulated precept upon
precept, to warn us againft the anticipation of
future calamities. All ufelefs mifery is certainly
folly, and he that feels evils before they come
may be defervedly cenfured ; yet furely to dread
the future is more reafonable than to lament the
paft. The biilinefs of life is to go forwards : he
who fees evil in profpeft meets it in his way, «
but he who catches it by retrofpeftion turns back
to find it. That which is feared may fome-
times be avoided ; but that which is regretted to-
day may be regretted again to-morrow.

Regret

3 "*

: I

41H

THE IDLER.

72.

Regret is indeed ufeful and virtuous, and
not only allowable but neceffary, when it tends
to the amendment of life, or to admonition of
error which we may be again in danger of com-
mitting. But a very fmall ^art of the moments
fpent in meditation on the paft, produce any
reafonable caution or falutary forrow. Moft of
the mortifications that we have fufFcred arofe
from the concurrence of local and temporary
circumflances, which can never meet again;
and moft of our difappointments have fucceeded
thofe expeftations which life allows not to be
formed a fecond time.

• It would add much to human happinefs, if
an art could be taught of forgetting all of which
the remembrance is at once ufehfs and affli£live,
if that paih which never can end in pleafure
could be driven totally away, that the mind-
'might perform its funftions without incum-
brance, and the paft might no longer encroach '
upon the prefent.

Little can bv done well to which the whole
mind is not applied ; the bufinefs of every dav
calls for the day to which it is aligned ; and he
will have no leifure to regret y«fterday*s vexa-
tions who refolves not to have a new fubjeft of
regret to-morrow.

But to forget or to remember at pleafure are

equally beyond the power of man. Yet as me-

mory may be affiftcd by method, aiid theiecaya

' • of

n^ji' THE IDLER. , 93

of knowledge repaired by Hated times of recol-
leftion, fo the power of forgetting is capable of
improvement. Reafon will, by a refolute con-
teft, prevail over imagination, and the power
may be obtaiRed of transferring the attention as
judgment (hall dire£l.

The incuriions of troublefome thoaghts arc
often violent and importunate ; and it is not
eafy to a mind accuftom.ed to their inroads to
expel them immediately by putting better images
into motion ; but this enemy of quiet is above
all others weakened by every defeat ; the re-
fle£lion, which has been once overpowered and
ejefted, feldom returns with any formidable
vehemence.

Employment is the great inftrument of intd-
ledtual dominion. The mind cannot retire
from its enemy into total -vacancy, or turn afidc
from one objed but by paffing to another. The
gldomy and the refentful are always found
among thofe who have nothing to do, or who
do nothing. We muft be bufy about good or
evil ; and he to whom the prefent offers nothing
will often be looking backward on the pail.

Numb*

' "^ » iM

THE IDLER.

N« 73.

Numb. 731 Saturday, Septembers, 1759.

THAT every man would be rich if a wifh
could obtain riches, is a poiition, which I
believe few will conteft, at Jeaft in a nation like
ours, in which commerce has kindled an uni-^
vcrfal emulation of wealth, and in which money
receives ail the honours which are the proper
right of knowledge and of virtue.

Yet though we arc all labouring for gold as
for the chief good, and, by the natural effort
of unwearied diligence, have found many ex-
peditious methods of obtaining it, we have not
been able to improve the art of ufing it, or to
make it produce more happinefs than it afforded
in former times, when every declaimer expatiated
on its mifchiefs, and every philofopher taught
his followers to defpife it.

Many of the dangers imputed of old to ex-
orbitant wealth, are now at an end. The
rich are neither waylaid by robbers, nor
watched by informers ; there is nothing to be
dreaded from profcriptions, or feizures. The
neceflity of concealing treafure has long ceafed ;
no man now needs counterfeit mediocrity, and
condemn his plate and jewels to caverns and
darknefs, or feaft his mind with the confciouf-
ncfs of clouded fplendour, of finery which is

ufelefs

N^73- THE IDLER. 95

ufclcfs till it is ihewn, and which he dares not
ihew.

In our time the poor are ftrongly tempted to
aflume the appearance of wealth, but the wealthy
very rarely defire to be thought poor ; for we
are all at full liberty to difplay riches by every
mode of oflentation. We fill our houfes with
ufelefs ornaments, only to Ihcw that we can
buy them ; we cover our coaches with gold,
and employ artifls in the difcovcry of new fa-
ihions of expence ; and yet it cannot be found
that riches produce happinefs.

Of riches, as of every thing elfe, the hope is
more than the enjoyment; while we coniider
them as the means to be ufed at fome future
time for the attainment of felicity, we prefs on
our purfuit ardently and vigoroufly, and that
ardour fecures us from wearinefs of ourfelves ;
but no fooner do we fit down to enjoy our ac-
quifitions, than we find them infufiicient to fill
up the vacuities of life.

One caufe which is not always obferved of the
infufficiency of riches is, that they very feldom
make their owner rich. To be rich, is to have
more than is defired, and more than is wanted ;
to have fomething which may be fpent without
reluftance, and fcattered without care, with
which the fudden demands of defire may be
gratified, the cafual freaks of fancy indulged, or
the unexpcdted opportunities of benevolence im-
proved.

6 Ava-

.*s

"^1

96 THE IDLER. N*' 73.

Avarice is always poor, but poor by her own
fault. There is another poverty to which the
rich are expofed with lefs guilt by the officiouf-
nefs of others. Every man, eminent for eriu-
berance of fortune, is furrounded from morn-
ing to evening, and from evening to midnight,
by flatterers, whofe art of adulation confifts in
exciting artificial wants, and in forming new
fchemes of pvofufion. • .

Tom Tranquily when he came to age, found
himfelf in pofleffion of a fortune, of which the
twentieth part might perhaps have made him
rich. His temper is eafy, and his affeftions
foft ; he receives every man with kindnefs, and
hears him with credulity. His friends took care
to fettle him by giving him a wife, whom, hav-
ing no particular inclination, he rather accepted
than chofe, becaufe he was told tliat fhe was
proper for him.

He was now to live with dignity proportion-
ate to his fortune. What his fortur.e requires
or admits Tom does not know, for he has little
ikill in computation, and none of his friends
think it their intereft to improve it. If he was
fufFered to live by his own choice, he would
leave every thing as he finds it, and pafs through
tlie world diflinguilhed only by inoffenfive gen-
tlenefs. But the miniflers of luxury have marked
him out as one at whofe expence they may ex-
ercife their arts* A companion, who had jufl

learned

N"73' THE IDLER. -97

learned the names cf the Italian Mailers, runs
from fale to (ale, and buys pidlures, for which
Mr. Tranquil pays, without enquiring where
tiiey Ihail be hung. Another fills his garden
with ftatucs, which Tranquil wilhes away, but
dares not remove. One of his Friends is learn-
ing Architc£lurc by building him a houfe, which
he paffed by, and enquired to whom it belonged 1
another has been for three years digging canali
and Tailing mounts, cutting trees down in one
place, and planting them in another, on which
Tranquil looks with fercnc indifference, without
alking wliat will be the coft. Another projector
tells him that a water-work, like that of Fa^
failles^ will complete the beauties of his feat,
and lays his draughts before him ; Tranquil
turns his eyes upon them, and the artift begins
his explanations ; Tranquil raifes no objeftions,
but orders him to begin the work, that he may
cfcape from talk which he does not undcrftand.
Thus a thoufand hands are bufy at his cxpence,
without adding to his pleafurcs. He pays and
receives vifits, and has loitered in publick or rii
folitudc, talking in fumtiier of the town, and
in winter t3f the country, witlrout knowing
that his fortune is impaired, till his Steward told
him this morning, that he could pay the work-
men no longer but by mortgaging a manor.

Vol, II.

Numb.

£.

THE IDLER.

74-

■n^

■Numb. 74. Saturday, Stptemhtr 15, 1759.

IN the mythological pedigree of learning,
Memory is made the mother of the Mufes,
.by which the mailers of ancient VVjfdom, per-
haps, meant to fhew the neceflity of ftoring the
mind copiQuHy .with true notions, before the
imagination (hould be fuffered to form ii»Stioiis
or collect cmbellifhments ; for the works of an
ignorant Poet can afford nothing higher than
plcafing found, and fiftion is of no other ufe than
to difplay the treafures of Memory.

The neceflity of Memory to the acquifition of
Knowledge is inevitably felt and univerfally al«
Jowed ; fo that i •'icely any other of the mental
faculties are comi. .only considered as neceiTary to
.a Student. He that <idmires the proficiency of
another, always attributes it to the happinefs o.f
his Memory ; and he that laments his own de-
fers, concludes with a wifh that Jiis Memory
was better.

It is evident, >tliat when the power of reten-
tion is weak, all the attempts at eminence of
knowledge muft be vain \ and as few are willing
to be doomed to perpetual ignorance, I may, per-
haps, afford confolation to fome that have fallcji
too eafily into defpondcnce, by obferving that
.fuch weakncfs is, in my opinion, ver.y rare, and

that

N • 74. T H £ I D L E R. 99

that few have rcafon to complain of Nature as
unkindly fparing of the gifts of Memory.

In the common bufinefs of life, we find the
Memory of one hke that of another, and
honeftly impute omilfions not to invohmtary
forgetfuhiefs, but culpable inattention ; but in
literary inquiries failure is imputed rather to
want of Memory than of Diligence.

We coniider ourfelves as defeftivc in Memory,
either becaufe we" remember leis than we defirc,
or lefs than we fuppofe others to remember.

Memory is like all other human powers, with
which no man can be fatisfiLd who meafurcs
them by what he can conceive, or by what he
can defire. He whofe mind is mod capacious
finds it much too narrow for his wifhes ; he
that remembers moft remembers little, compared
with what he forgets. He therefore that, after
the perufal of a book, finds few ideas remaining
in his mind, is not to confider the diiappoint-
ment as peculiar to himfelf, or to rcfign all
hopes of improvement, becaufe he does not
retain what even the author has perhaps for-
gotten.

He who compares his Memory with that of
others is often toohafly to lament the inequality.
Nature has fometimes, indeed, afforded exam-
ples of enormous, Vv'ondeiful, and gigantick
Memory. Scaliger reports of himfelf, that, in
his youth, he could repeat above an hundred

F 2 verfes,

V !.

100 THE IDLER. N^. 74.

vcd'cs, having once read tlvjiii ; and Banhicus
declares tliat he wrote his Commtnt upm Claudlan
without confnUing the text. But not to have fuch
degrees of Memory is no more to be lamented,
than not to have the (Ircngth of HercuUsy or the
Uviftncfs of JchUUs, He that in the diftribution
of good has an equal fliavc with common men,
mav iulllv be contcntcil. Where there is no
ilriking difparity, it is ditficult to know of two
which remembers moil, and ftill more difficult
to difcovcr which read with greater attention,
which has renewed the firtt impreflion by more
frequent repetitions, or by what accidental com-
bination of ideas either mind might have united
any particular narrative or argument to its for-
mer ftock.

But Men^ory, however impartially diftributed,
fo often deceives ourtruft, thatalnioll every man
attempts, by Ibmc artifice or other, to fccurc its
fidelity.

It is the pnflicc of many readers to note, 111
the margin of their books, the moll important
patlliges, the llrongeft arguments, 01 the brightelt
ilntlmcnts. 1 hus thev load their minds vvit'ji

•I

hiperflnons attention, reprcfs the vehemence of
curiofiry by ufclefs deliberation, and by frequent
interruption break the current of narration or
the chain ofreafon, and at lall dole the volume,
•and fcrgct the paflages and marks together.

*6 Others

N'74. THE IDLER. io|

Others I liavc found iinaltcnil-ly ptiTuiulcd
that nothing is certainly rcniembcicd hut Vvliat is
tianfcrihcil ; and they have therefore paffed
weeks and montlis in transferring large (juota-
tions to a common-place book. Yet, why any
part of a book, which can be confuUcd at plca-
fure, Ihould be copied, 1 was never able to dif.
cover. The hand has no clofer coricfpondcncc
with the Memory than the eye. The adl of
writing itfelf diftra^^ts the thoughts, and what is
read twice is commonly better renK^mbcrcd thai>
what is tranfcribed. 'i'his method therefore
confumestimc without aliitling Memory.

1 he true Art of Memory is the Art of Atten-
tion. No man will read with much advantage,
who is not able, at pleafure, to evacuate his
mind, or who brings not to his Author an iiir
tt;llc<ft defecated and pure, neither turbid witU
care:, nor agitated by pleafure. if the repolito-
ries of thought, are already full, what can tlicy
receive ? if the mind is employed on the pad or
future, the book will be held before the eyes in
vain. What is read with delight is commonly
retained, bccaufe pleafure always feciires attention ;

but the books which are confulted by occafional
ijeceffity, and perufcd with iippatieucc, feldoqa
leave ajiy traces on the mind*

t 5I

, r
t

Numb*

102

THE IDLER.

75-

i\>h

li! 'J

Numb. 75. Saturday, September 22^ 1759.

IN the time when Bapra was confidered as
the School of 4/ta, and flouriflied by the re-
putation of its profeflbrs and the contiuence of
its ftudents, among the pupils that liftened round
the chair of Albumascar was Gelaledd.n, a native
of Taurii in Ferfta, a young man amiable in his
manners and beautiful in his form, of bound-
lefs curiofity, inceflant diligence, and irrefiftible
genius, of quick apprehenfion and tenacious
inemory, accurate without narrownefs, and
eager for novelty without inconftancy.

No fooner did Gelahddin appear at Baffora,
than his virtues and abilities raifed him to dif-
tindion. He pafTed from clafs to clafs, rather
admired than envied by thofe whom the rapidity
of his progrefs left behind ; he was confulted by
his fellow-ftudents as an oraculous guicfe, and
admitted as a competent auditor to the confer-
ences of the Sages.

After a few years, having pafled through all
tlie exercifes of probation, Gelahddin was in-
vited to a Piofeflbr's feat, and entreated to in-
creafe the fplendour of Bajfora. GelaUddin af-
fefted to deliberate on the propofal, with which,
before he conlidered it, he refolved to comply ;

and

N^vs. . THE IDLER. 103.

and next morning retired to a garden planted for
the recreation of the ftudents, and, entering,
a folltary walk, began to meditate upon his fu«
ture life.

** If I am thus eminent," faid he, ** in the
** regions of Literature, I fliall be yet more con-
" fpicuous in any other place : if 1 fhould now
" devote myfelf to ftudy and retirement, I mufl
pafs my life in lilence, unacquainted with the
delights of wealth, the influence of power, the
" pomp of greatnefs, and the charms of elegance,
" with all that man envies and defires, with- all
*< that keeps the world in motion, by the hope
<• of gaining or the fear of lofing it. I will
** therefore depart to Taurisy where the Per/tan
** Monarch refides in all the fplendour of abfo-
** lute dominion : ray reputation will fly before
<* me, my arrival will be congratulated by my
«* kinfmen and my friends : I fhall fee the eyes
** of thofe who predifted my greatnefs fparklin^
<* with exultation, and the faces of thofe that
** once defpifed me clouded with envy, or coun-
«' terfeiting kindnefs by artificial fm.iles. I will
** fliew my wifdom by my difcouife, and my
V moderation by my lilence ; I will inftruft the
" modeft with eafy gentlenefs, and reprefs th«
** oftentatious by feafonable fupercilioufnefs.
** My apartments will be crowded by the inqui-
*' fitive and the vain, by thofe that honour and

F 4 ** thofe

I ill

rt>4 THE FDLER, N« 75,

** thofe that rival me ; my name will foon reach
*\ the Court ; I fliall fland before the throne of
** the Emperor ; the Judges of the Law will con-
** fefs my wifdom ; and the Nobles will contend
•* to heap gifts upon me. If 1 Ihall find that my
•' merit, like that of others, excites malignity,,
** or feel my felf tottering on the feat of elevation,.
** I may at laft retire to academical obfcurity,.
*' and become, in my loweit Hate, a Pro-
** felTar of Bajf^ra.''

Having thus fettled his determination, he
declared to his friends his deiign of vifiting,
Tawhf and faw, with more pleafure thaa he
ventured to exprefs, the regret with which he
was diriiiiifed. He could not bear to delay
the honours to which he was deflined ; and
thijrefors hafte^ away, and in a fhort time
tutsred the capital of Perfi'?, He was imme-
diately immerfed in the crowd, and paifed un-
obferved to his father's houfe. He entered,
and was received, though not unkindly, yet
without any exccfs of fondnefs or exclama-
tions of rapture. His father had, in his ab-
ferice, fuffered many lofles ; and Gdakddin was
confidered as an additional burthen to a falling
family.

When he recovered from his furprize, he
Began to difplay his acquifitions, and pradtifed all
tije art^ of narration and difquifirioxi i but the

poor

t^^^f^ THE IDLER. 105

pooF have no leil\ire to be plealed with elo-»
queiice ; they lieard hb arguments wiihout re«
flection, and his pleafantries without a fmile.
He then appHed himfelf fingly to his hroiher*
and fifters, but found them all chained dgwn
by invariable attenti(/n to their own foitun^8>
and infenfible of any oth«r excellence tha»
that which could bi:ing foucve remedy foe in-
digence.

It was now known in the neighbourhood, thaf
GehUddin was returned, and he f^te for fome
days in expectation that the Learned would
vitit him for confultation, or the Great fbf
entertainment. But who will be pleated or in*
itru6ted in the maniions of Poverty ? He thea
fFeq;Uented places of public refort, and endea-
voured to attraft notice by the copioufnefs ol^
his talk. The fprightly were filenced, and went
away to cenfure in fome other place his arro-
gance and his pedantry ; and the dull liflencd
quietly for a while, and thai wondered why
any man Ihould take pains to obtain {o muclv
knowledge which would never do him good.

He next folicited the Vificrs for employment-
not doubting but his fervice would be eagerly
accepted. He was told by one that there was no
vacancy in. his office; by another, that his merit
was above any patronage but that of the Em"-
peror ;. by a third, that he would, not forget

F 5, him J

ill-

1 06

THE IDLER.

N°7S,

him ; and by the Chief Vifier, that he did not
think literature of any great ufe in public bufi-
nefs. He was fom^times admitted to their tables,
where he exerted his wit and difFufed his know-
ledge ; but he obferved, that where, by endea-
vour or accident, he had remarkably excelled, he
was feldom invited a fecond time.

He now returned to Baffora, wearied and dif-
gulled, but confident of refuming his former
rank, and revelling again in fatiety of praife.
But he who had been negledled at Tauris was
not much regarded at Bajfora ; he was con-
(idered as a fugitive, who returned only becaufe
he could live in no other place ; his compa-
nions found that they had formerly over- rated
his abilities j and he lived long without notice
or efteemt

Numb*

N^ 7.6-

THE IDLER.

J07

Numb. 76. Saturday, Sep'emhr 29i 1759-
To the IDLER*

. Sir,

IW A S much pleafed with your ridicule of
thofe (hallow Criticks, whofe judgment,
though often right as far as it goes, yet reaches
only to inferior beauties, and who, unable to
comprehend the whole, judge only by parts,
and from thence determine the merit of exten-
five works. But there is another kind of Cntick
i^ill worfe, who judges by narrow rules, and
thofe too often falfe, and which, though they
Ihould be true, and founded on nature, will
lead him but a very little way towards the juft
eftimation of the fublime beauties in works of
Genius ; for whatever part of an art can be exe^
cuted or criticifed by rules, that par. is no
longer the work of Genius, which implies ex-
cellence out of the reach of rules. For my own
part, I profefs myfelf an Idler, and love to give
my judgment, fuch as it is, from my immediate
perceptions, without much fatigue of tlnnk-
L; and 1 am of opinion, that if a man has
not thofe perceptions right, it will be vamjor

io8 THE IDLE H. . N» 76.

him to endeavour to fupply their place by rules,

whtcli may enable him to talk more learnedly,

but not to diflinguifh more Acutely. Another

reafon which has leflened my afFe£tion far the

Hudy of Criiicifin >s, that Criticks, fo far as I

have obferved, debar themfelves from receiving

any pleafure from the polite arts, at the fame

time that they profefs to love and admire them :

for thcfe rules, being always uppermoft, give

them fuch a propenfity to criticize, that,, inftead

of giving up the reins of tl^ir imagination into

their Author's hands, their frigid minds are em«

pfoyed in examining whether the performance

be according to the roles of art.

To thofe who are rcfolved to be Criticks la
fpite' of Nature, and at the fame time have no
great difpoiition to much reading and ftudy ; I
would recommend to them to aflume the cha-
raSer of Connoifleur, which may be purchafed
at; a much cheaper rate than that of a Critick in
Poetry. The remembrance of a few names of
Pain^Sj^ with their general characters, with a
few rules of the Academy, which they may
pick up among the Painters, will go a great
way towards making a very notable Connof-
feur.

With a Gentleman of this caft, I vifited Jaft
week the Cartcom ^t Hamptcn- court ; he wasjuft
returned from IteijyiL Connoifleur of courfc, iini
of courfe his mouth full of nothing but the

Grace

THE IDLER.

76. THE IDLbK. 109

Grace of RaffkelUi the Purity of Dmtnicbimf
the Learning of Potuffin^ the Air of GuiJo^ the
Greatnefs of Tafte of the Charmhes, and the
Sublimity and grand Contorno of Michael An"
gth\ with all the reft of taic cant of Criticifm»
which he emitted virith that volubility whicfe
generally thofe orators have who a^nne^t no idea»
to tlicir wofds.

As we were pafiing through tlie rooms, in our
way to the Galkry, \ madie him obferve a whole
length of Charles the firft \xf Vandyhty as a per--
fe£t reprefcotation of tlic charafter as well as th^
figure of the man. He agreed it was very §ae ;
but it wanted fpirit and contraft, and had not
the flowing line, without which a figure could
not poifibly be graceful. When we entered the
Gallery, I thought I could perceive him recoU
lefting his Rules by which he was to criticiw
Raffaelie, I Ihall pafs over his obfeTvation of
the boats being too little, and other criticifms
of that kind, till we arrived at St. Paul preachings
** This, fays lie, is efteemed the moft exeellcat
of all the Carmns. ; what noblenefs, what dig-
nity there is in that figure of St. Paul! and yet
what an addition to that noblenefs could Raffaelie
have given, had the art of Contraft been knowa
in his time ; but, above all, tlw flowing lin^
which conftitutes Grace and Beauty ! Yo*
would not then have feen an upright figure iland-^
iiig e(juaUy on botk legs, ajud hQtli hands iiretched

forward

i :

liil

110 THE IDLER. N° 76.

forward in the fame direction, and his drapery,
to all appearance, without the Icaft art of diipo-
fition/' The following Piaure is the Chargt to
Peter, ** Here,** fays he, ** are twelve upright
figures ; what a pity it is that Raffadle was not
acquainted with the pyramidal principle ! he
would then have contrived the figures in the
middle to have been on higher ground, or the
figures at the extremities {looping or lying,
which would not only have formed the group into
the fhape of a pyramid, but likewife contrailed
the {landing figures. Indeed," added he, '' 1 have
often lamented that fo great a genius as Roffaelle
had not lived in this enlightened age, fince the
art has been reduced to principles, and had had
his education in one of the modern Academies ;
what glorious works might we then have ex-
pefted frgm his divine pencil !"

I Ihall trouble you no longer with my friend's
obfervations, which, I fuppofe, you are now
able to continue by yourfelf. It is curious to
obferve, that, at the fame time that great admi-
ration is pretended for a name of fixed rcputa-
tion, objeaions are raifed againft thofe very
qualities by which that great name was acquired.

Thofe Criticks arc continually lamenting that
RrJaelU had not the Colouring and Harmony of
Rubem, or the Light and Shadow of Rmbrant,
without confidering how much the gay Har-
mony of the former, and Affeaation of thq

latter,

N°76. THE IDLER. Vt

latter, would take from the Dignity of RaffaeUe ;
and yet Ruhcns had great fiarmony, and Rem-
brant underflood Light and Shadow : but what
may be an excellence in a lower clafs of Paint-
ing becomes a blemilh in a higher ; as the
quick, fprightly turn, which is the life and
beauty ofepigrammatickcompofiiions, would but
ill fuit with the majefty of heroick Poetry.

To conclude ; 1 would not be thought to in-
fer from any thing that has been faid, that Rules
are abfolutely unneceflary ; but to cenfure fcru-
pulofity, a fervile attention to minute exa6tnefs,
which is fometimes inconfiftcnt with higher
excellency, and is loft in tlie blaze of expanded

genius.

I do not know whether you will think
Painting a general fubjea. By infcrting this
letter, perhaps, you will incur the cenfure a man
would deferve, whofe bulinefs being to entertain
a whole room, ihould turn his back to the com-
pany, and talk to a particular perfon.

I am, Sir, &c,

KuMPt

THE IDLER,

^* 77'

i-"i

NuM3. 77* Saturday^ Oifobtr 6, 1759,

EASY Poetry is univeifally admired; but I
know not whether any rule has yet been
fixed, by which it may be decided when Poetry
can be properly called eafy. Horace has told us,
that it is fuch as every reader hopes to equals but
afttr long labour findi unattainaHe, This is a very
loofe defcription, in which only the efFeft is
noted -y the qualities which produce this efFe<^
remain to be inveftigated.

Eafy Poetry is that in which natural thought*
Ve cxpreffed without violence to the language.
The difcriminating character of Eafe confift*
principally in the di£lion, for alt true Poetry
requires that the fentiments be natural. Lan-
guage fufFers violence by harlh or by daring
figures, by tranfpofition, by unufual accepta-
tions of words, and by any licence which
would be avoided by a Writer of Profe. Where
any artifice appears in the conftruiftion of the
verfe, that verfe i» no longer eafy. Any epi-
thet which can be ejected without diminution of
the fenfe, any curious iteration of the fam^
word, and all unufual, though not ungrammati
cal (IruAuie of fpeecli,, deflroy tlie grace of eafy
Poetry.

Tlie

N"77- THE IDLER. 113

The firft lines of Popii Iliad afford exam-
ples of many licences which an cafy Writer muft
decline.

Achilles wra/ff, to Greece the dirtfuljpriHg
Of WOC9 unnumbered, hiafu*uly Goddefs fing.
The wrath which hurCdxa Phuo*s gloomy nign
The fouls of mightj cliiefs uatimeiy flaia.

In the firfl couplet the language is diftorted
by Jnvcifions, clogged with fupcrfluities, and
clouded by a harlh metaphor i and in the
fecond there are two words ufed in an un-
common fenfe,. and two epithets infertcd
only to lengthen the line; all tliefe pra£tices
may in a long work eafily bo pardoned, but tliey
always produce fome degreo o£ ohfcurity and
ruggednefs,

Eafy Poetry has- been fo long cxtludcdby
ambition of ornament, and' luxuriance of
imagery, that its nature feems now to be
forgotten. AfFeftation, however oppofite to
cafe, ifi foraetiraes miilaken for it ; a«d thofe
who afpire to gentle elegance coUeft female
phrafes and fafhionable barbarifms,. and ima-
gine that flyle to be eafy which cuftom has
made familiar. Such was the idea of* the Poet
who wrote tlie following verfes to a Counufi

cutting Faper*

Pallas

'?v

\ 4

tJ^.J!

114

THE IDLER,

N* 7T>

JPallas grew vap'rijh oncf andoddy

She would not do tht Icaji right thing
Either for Goddefs or for God,

Nor work, nor play, nor paint, nor fing^,

Jove frown'd, and ** T Jfe (he cry'd) thofe eyer
** So (kilful, and thofe hands fo taper ;

*• Dofomething cxqaifite and wife**—
She bow'd, obey'd him, and cut paper.

This vexing him who gave her birth,
Thought by all heaven a bumingjlmmt^

What doesjln next^ but bids on earth
Her BurUnit9% do juft the lame i

Pa/iaSf you glyeyoviMf ^rangi airj I

But fure you'll find it hard to fpoil
The fenfe and tafte of one that bears

The name of Saviie and of Bejie^^

Alas! oiiebad example (hown^

How quickly all the fex purfue I
See, madam! fee the arts o'erthrown

Between ^ohn Overton and you.

It is the pre.ogative of eafy Poetry to be un-
derftood as long as the l&nguage lafts ; but modesr
offpeech, which owe their prevalence only to
modiih fqlly, or to the eminence of thofe that
ufe them, die away with their inventors, and
their meaning, in a few years, is no longer

known.

Eafy

N";?* THE IDLER. ui

Eafy. Poetry is commonly fought in petty
compositions upon minute fubjefts ; but eafe,
though it excludes pomp, will admit greatnefs.
Many lines m Cato\ Soliloquy are at once eafy
and fublime :

*Tis the Divinity that iHrs within us ;

*Tis Heaven itfelf that points out an hereafter,

And intimates eternity to man.

-»— - If there's a Power above us,

And that there is all Nature cries aloud

Thro* all her works, he muft delight in virttie,

And that which he delights in muft be happy.

Nor is eafe more contrary to wit than to fub-
limity ; the celebrated ftanza of Cowley, on a
Lady elaborately dreffed, lofes nothing of its
freedom by the fpirit of the fentiment ;

Th' adorning thee with fo much art

Is but a barb'rous ikill, -

♦Tis like the poif *ning of a dart,

Too apt before to kill.

Coivley fcems to have poifefled the power of
writing eafily beyond any other of our Poets,
* yet his purfviitof remote thoughts led him often
into harihnefs of exprelTion. fFalUr often at-
tempted, but feldom' attained it; for he is too
frequently driven into tranfpofitions. 1 he
Poets, from the time of Drydcn, have gradually

advanced

M '

116

THE IDLER.

advanced in cmbellifhment, and confequently
departed from fimplicity and eafe.

To require from any Author many pieces of
eafy Poetry, would be indeed to opprefs him with
too hard a talk. It is lefs difficult to write a
volume of lines fwelled with epithets, brightened
by figures, and ftiffened by tranfpolitions, than
to produce a few couplets graced only by naked
elegance and fimple purity, which require lb
much care and Ikill, that 1 doubt whether any
of our Authors have yet been able, for twenty
lines together, nicely to pbferve the true, detini-
tion of cafy Poetry.

Numb. 78. Saturday, OSiaher 13, 1759.

I HAVE pafled the Summer in one of thofe
places to which a mineral fpring gives the
idle and luxurious an annual reafon for refort-
ing, whenever they fancy themCelves offended
by the heat of Londan, What is the true motive
of this periodical aflembly, I have never yet been -
able to difcover. The greater part of the vifi-
tants neither feel difeafcs, nor fear them. What
pleafure can be expelled moro than the variety
of the JQurncy, \ know not, for the uuuibers

are

N°78. THE IDLER. 117

are too great for privacy^ and two fmall for
diveriion. As each is known to be a fpy upoa
the reft, they all live in continual reftraint ; and
having but a narrow range for cenfurc, they
gratify its cravings by preying on one another.

But every condition has forae advantages. la
this confinement, a fmalier circle affords oppor-
tunities for more exaft obfervation. The glafs
that magnifies its obje£l contrafts the fight to a
point, and the mind muft be fixed upon a fingle
charafter to remark its minute peculiarities.
The quality or habit which pafTes unobferved in
the tumult of fuccefTive multitudes, becomes
confpicuous when Tt is offered to the notice day
after day ; and perhaps 1 have, witliout any dif-
tinft notice, feen thoufands like my late com-
panions ; for, when the fcene can be varied at
pleafure, a flight difgufl turns us afide be-
fore a deep impreffion can be made upon the
mind.

There was a fele£^ fett, fuppofcd to be dif-
tinguifhed by fuperiority of intelle£ls, who al-
ways paffedthe evening together. To beadmitted
to their converfation was the higheft honour of
of the place ; many youths afpired to diftindtion,
by pretending to occafional invitations ; and the
Ladies were often wilhing to be men, that
they might partake tlie pleafures of learned

lociety.

I knov«r

ill

il'l i

: lili I

' HI i

m i

Sin

' i^ '

118

THE IDLER.

I know not whether by merit or deftiny, I
■was, foon after my arrival, admitted to this en-
vied party, which I frequented till I had learned
the art by which each endeavoured to fupport his
character.

I Tom Stca^^y was a vehement aflertor of un-
controverted truth ; and by keeping himfclf
out of the reach of contradif^ion, had acquired
ail the confidence which the confcioufnefs of ir-
Tefiftible abilities could have given. I was once
mendoning a man of eminence, and, after hav-
ing recounted his virtues, endeavoured to rc-
prefent him fully, by mentioning his faults.
6Vr, faid Mr, Steady ^ that he has faults I can eaftly
believe, for vjho is without them ? No man. Sir,
is now alive, among the innumerable multitudes that
fivarm upon the eartb, however wife, or huwevcr
good, who has not^ in feme degree^ his fuilings and
his faults. If there be any man faultkjs, bring him
fourth into puhlick view, Jhew him optn'y, and let
him be h'lOwn ; but I will venture to affirw^ and,
till the contrary be plainly Jhewn, Jhall always main-
t.fin, that no fuch man is to found, Ttll not me, Sir,
of impeccability and perfe^ion ; fuch talk is for thofe
that are fir angers in the world : I have fecn feveral
nations, and converfed with all ranks of people ; /
have known the great and the mean, the learned and
the ignorant, the old and the young, the clerical and
the lay^ but 1 have never found a man without a

fault ;

'N'^7S. THE IDLER. ii^

■fanlt ; and I fuppofe Jhall die in the opinion^ thai to
-bi human is to be frail.

To all this nothing could be oppofed. I lif-
tened with a hanging head ; Mr. S^teady looked
round on the hearers with triumph, and faw
€very eye congratulating his vi£lory ; he de-
parted, and fpent the next morning in following
thofe who retired from the company, and telling
them, with injunctions of fecrecy, how poor
5/)n/^Jy began to take liberties with men wifcr
than himfelf; but that he fupprefled him by
a deciiive argument, which put him totally to
iilence.

Dick Snug is a man of fly remark and pithy
fententioufnefs : he never immerges himfelf in,
the llream of converfation, but hes to catch his
companions in the eddy : he is often very fuc-
cefsful in breaking narratives and confounding
eloquence. A Gentleman, giving the hiftory of
one of his acquaintance, made mention of a Lady
that had many lovers ; Then, faid Dick, Jhe was
either handfome or rich. This obfervation being
well received, Dkk watched the progrefs of the
tale ; and, hearing of a man loft in a fhipwreck,
remarked, that no man was ever drowned upon dry
hnd,

Will Startle is a man of exquifite fenfibillty,

whofe delicacy of frame, and quicknefs of dif-

cernment, fubje£t him to impreffions from the

ilighteft caufes : and who therefore pafles his life

7 between

•i

120

THE IDLER.

mil
'mi

between rapture and horror, in quiverings of de-
light, or convulfions of difguft. His emotions
arc two violent for many words ; his thoughts
are ahvays difcovered by exclamations, f^ile,
odims^ horrid^ deteftaUe^ ^nd fweety charm in^^ de-
lighi/ui, ajimijhing^ compofe alraoft his whole
vocabulary, which he utters with various con-
tortions and gefticulations, not cafily related or
defcribed.

Jack Solid is a man of much reading, who
utters nothing but quotations ; but having been,
I fuppofe, too confident of his memory, he has
for fome time negleded his books, and his
ilock grows every day more fcanty* Mr. Solid
has found an opportunity every night to repeat
from Hudibras,

Doubtlefs the pleaf«r« is as great
Of being cheated, as to cheat i

And from Waller^ V

Poets lofe half the praife they would have got,
Were it but known that they difcrcetly blot.

Dick Mijly is a man of deep rcfearch, and forci-
ble penetration. Others are content with fu-
perficial appearances ; but Dick holds, that there
is no efFeft without a caufe, and values himfelf
upon his power of explaining tlie difficulty and

dif-

N« 78.

THE IDLER,

121

difplayiiig the abftrufc. Upon a difpute among
us, which of two young ftrangers was more
beautiful, Tou, fays Mr. Mi/iy^ turning to me,
like ^maranthia better than Chloris, I do not won-
der at the preferencey for the caufe is evident : then
is in man a perception of harmony^ and a fenfihiUty
of pe^feSilon, which touches the finer fibres of the
tnentdl texture^ ani before Reafon can d>f and from
hir throne y to pafs hr fentence upon the things com^^^
pared, drives us towards the objeSf proportioned tt
our faculties, by an impulfe gentle, yet Irrefifiible ; for
the harmonlck fy/iem of the unlverfe, and the reci»
procal magnetifm offimilar natures, are always oper-
atln^ towards conformity and union ; nor can thg
powers of the foul c^afe from agitation, till they find
Jomething on which they can repofe. To this no*
thing was oppofed ; and j^-naranthia was acknow-
ledged to excel Chloris.

Of the refl you may expeft an account
from,

Sir^ Yours,

Robin Sp^itely.

Vol. IL

NVM».

i22

THE IDLER.

N"79.

Numb* 79. Saturday, O^ohr 20, 1759.

To the IDL ER.

S I R ,

YOUR acceptance of a former letter oa
Painting gives mc encouragement to of-
fer a few more flcetches on the fame fubje^t.

Amongft the Painters, and the writers on
Painting, there is one maxim viniverfally ad-
mitted and continually inculcated. Imitate Na-
ture is the invariable rule ; but I know none
^ho have explained in what manner this rule i«
to be underftood; the confequence of which is,
that every one takes it in the moft obvious fenfe,
that obje^s are reprefented naturally when they
have fuch relief that they feem real. It may ap-
pear ftrange, perhaps, to hear this fenfe of the
rule difputed ; but it muft be confidered, thar^
if the excellency of a Painter confifted only in
this kind of imitation, Painting muft lofe its
fank, and be no longer confidered as a liberal
art, and fifter to poetry, this imitation being
merely mechajiical, in which the floweft intel-
le6l is always fure to fucceed beft ; for the
Painter of genius cannot ftoop to drudgery, iu
which the under ftanding has no part ; and what
pretence has the art to claim kindred with P£>etry

but

N°79«

THE IDLER.

123

but by its power over the imagination ? To thii
power the Painter of genius dire£ls him ; in this
fenfe he ftudies Nature, and often arrives at his
end, even by being unnatural in the confined
fenfe of the word.

The grand ftyle of Painting requires this mi-
nute attention to be carefully avoided, and muft
be kept as feparate from it as the ftyle of Poetry
from that of Hiitory. Poetical ornaments dc-
ilroy that air of truth and plainnefs which ought
to characterize Hiftory ; but the very being of
Poetry confifts in departing from this plain nar-
ration, and adopting every ornament that wil!
warm the imagination. To defire to fee the ex-
cellences of each ftyle united, to mingle the
Dutch with the Italian School, is to join contra*
rieties which cannot fubfift together, and which
deftroy the efficacy of each other. T\\q Italian
attends only to the invariable, the great and
general ideas which are fixed and inherent in
univerfal Nature ; the Dutchy on the contrary,
to literal truth and a minute exa£ti>efs in the de-
tail, as I may fay, of Nature modified by acci-
dent. The attention to thefe petty peculiarities
is the very caufe of this naturalnefs fo much ad-
mired in the Dutch Pidtures, which, if we fup-
pofe it to be a beauty, is certainly of a lower or-
der, which ought to give place to a beauty of
a fuperior kind, fince one cannot be obtained
but by departing from the other.

(^ ^ If

■1

^i\

^iz4 THE ID LEU. N''79.

If my opinion was afked concerning the work«
cf A'lichael Jngelo, whether they would receive
any advantage from poflelfing this mechanical
inerit, 1 fhould not fcruple to fay they would not
only receive no advantage, but would lofe, in
a great meafurc, the efre6l: v.'hich they now have
on every mind fufceptible of great and noble
ideas. His works may be faid to be all genius
and foul ; and why fiiould they be loaded with
heavy matter, which can only counteraft his
purpofe by retarding the progrefs of the imagina-
tion ?

If this opinion fhould b? thought one of the
•wild extravagances of Enthufial'm, I fhall only
■fay, that thofe who cenfure it are not conver-
fant in the Wo<rks of the great Mailers. It is
■very difficult to determine the exad degree
of enthuiiafm that the arts of Painting and Poe-
try may admit. There may perhaps be too great
•an indulgence as well as too great a reftraint of
imagination •, and if the one produces inco-
'herent monfters, the other produces what is full
as bad, lifeleG infipidity. An intimate know-
Jed?e of the paflions, and good fenfe, but not
common fenfe, muft at lad determine its limits.
It has been thought, and I believe with reafon,
that Michad J^geh fometimes tranfgrelTed thofe
Vimits; and I think I have ken figures of hin^,
of which it was very difficult to determine whe-
jtlicr tjiey were in the higheft degree fublime, or ex-

tremely B

N-79- THE IDLER. 125

ti-cmely ridiculous. Such faults may be faid to be
the ebullitions of Genius ; butat leaft he had this
merit, that he never was infipid ; and whatever
pafiion his works may excite, they will always
efcape contempt.

* What 1 have had under confideraticn is the
fublimeft ftyle, particularly that of Mrhoil /!n^
gelo, the Homer of Painting. Other kinds may
admit of this naturalnefs, which of the lowed
kind is the chief merit; but in Painting, asm
Poetry, the higheft ftyle has the leaft of common

nature.

One may very fafely recommend a little more
Enthufiafm to the modern Painters ; too much
is certainly >not the vice of the prefent age.
The Italians fcem to have been continually de-
dining in this refpea, from the time of Mi had
Jngfio to that of Carh Maratti, and from
thence to the very bathos of iniipidity to which
they are now funk ; fo that there is no need ot
remarking, that where I mentioned the Italian
Painters in oppofition to the Dutch, I mean not
the moderns, but the heads of the old Roman
and Bolognian Schools ; nor did 1 mean to in-
clude, in my idea of an Italian Painter, the Vene-
tian School, which may be faid to be the Dutch
part of the Italian Genius. 1 have only to add
a word of advice to the Painters, that, however
excellent they may be in painting naturally,

G 3 they

■v\

126

THE IDLER.

79-

they would not flatter thcaifclvcs very much
upon it ; and to the Connoilieurs, that, when
tliey fee a cat or a fiddle painted fo finely that,
as the phrafc is, It looks as if ya cuiduke U uf>,
they would not for that reafon immediately
compare the Painter to Rnffuelle and JMichail
AngclQt

^i^^^4r.m^^^.r^^,^^^^^,:^r^^^^^^^^

Numb. 8o. Saturday, Os/ch.r2'j, 1759.

THAT every day has its pains and forrows
is univerfally experienced, and almoft
univerfally confefled : but let us not attend only
to mournful truths ; if we look impartially about
us, we fliall find that every day has likewife its
pleafures and its joys.

The timei s now come when the town is again
beginning to be full, and the rufticated beauty
fees an end of her banifhment. Thofe, whom
the tyranny of Falhion had condemned to pafs the
fummer among fhades and brooks, are now pre-
paring to return to plays, balls, and affembhes,
with health reftored by retirement, and fpirits
kindled by expectation.

Many a mind which has languilhed fomc
months without emotion or delire, now feels a

fudden

N'' 8o'.
fuddcn

THE IDLER,

147

renovation of its faculties. It was long
ago obfcrved by Pythu^roras, that Ability and
Nccellity dwell near each other. She that wan-
dered in the garden without fcnfe of its fra-
grance, and lay day after day ftretclicd upon a
couch behind a green curtain, unwilling to v;ake
and unable to flecp, now fummons her thoughts
to conlider which of her laft year's cloaths Ihall
bcfcen again, and to anticipate the raptures of a
new fuit j the day and the night are now filled
with occupation ; the laces, which were too fine
to be worn among rufticks, are taken from the
boxes and reviewed ; and the eye is no fooncr
clofcd after its labours^ than whole fliops of fiik.
bufy the fancy.

But happinefs is nothing if it is not known,
and very little if it is not envied. Before the day
of departure, a week is always appropriated to the
payment and reception of ceremonial vifits, at
which nothing can be mentioned but the de-
lights of London, The Lady who is haftening to
the fcerie of aftion flutters her wings, difplays hep
profpeas of felicity, tells how ftie grudges every
moment of delay, and in the prefence of thofe,
whom Ihe knows condemned to ftay at home,
is fure to wonder by what arts life can be made
fupportable through a winter in the country,
and to tell how often, amidft the extafies of aa
Opera, (he fhall pity thofe friends whom Ihe has
left behind. Her hope of giving pain is feldoni

G 4 difap*

^ 1

^Il^l'

128 THE IDLER. N^ So.

difappolnted ; the afFeaed indifFerence of one,
the faint congratulaticns of another, the wilhes
of fome openly confeOed, and the filent dcjeaioii
of the refl, all exalt her opinion of her own fu-
periority.

But, however we may lahour for our own de-
ception, truth, though unwelcome, will fome-
times intrude upon the mind. They, who have
already enjoyed the crowds and noife of the great
city, know that their defire to return is little
more than the reftlelTnefs of a vacant mind, that
they are not fo much led by hope as driven by
difguft, and wilh rather to leave the country than
to fee the town. There is commonly in every
coach a paflenger enwrapped in filent expeftatioir,
whofe joy is more fincere, and whofe hopes
are more exalted. The virgin whom the laft
fummer releafed from her governefs, and who
is now going between her mother and her aunt
to try the fortune of her wit and beauty, fuf-
pe£ls no fallacy in the gay reprefentation. She
believes herfelf palling into another world, and
images London as an Elyfian region, where every
hour has its proper pleafure, where nothing is
feen but the blaze of wealth, and nothing heard
but merriment and flattery ; where the morn-
ing always rifes on a fhow, and the evening
clofes on a ball ; where the eyes are ufed only to
fparkle, and the feet only to dance.

Her

>J^8o. THE IDLER. 129

Her aunt and her mother amufe themfeives
on the road with telling her of dangers to be
dreaded, and cautions to be obferved. She
hears them as they heard their predeceffors, with
incredulity or contempt. She fees that they have
ventured and efcaped ; and one of the plea-
fures which (he promifes herfelf is to dete£t their
falfhoods, and be freed from their admonitions.

We are inclined to believe thofe whom we do
not know, becaufe they never have deceived us.
The fair adventurer may perhaps liflen to the
Idler, whom Ihe cannot fufped of rivalry or
malice i yet he fcarcely experts to be credited
when he tells her, that her expedations will Hkc-
wife end in difappointment.

Th«3 uniform necelfities of human nature
produce in a great meafure uniformity of life,
and for part of the day make one place likelano-
ther: to drefs and to undrefs, to eat and to fleep,
are the fame in London as in the country. The
fupernumerary hours have indeed a greater
variety both of pleafure and of pain. The
ftranger gazed on by multitudes at her fli ft ap-
pearance in the Park, is perhaps on the higheft
fummit of female happinefs ; but how great is
the anguilh when the novelty of another face
draws her w^orfhipers avyay \ The heart may leap
for a time under a fine gown, but the fight of a
gown yet finer puts an end to rapture. In the
firft row at an Opera two hours may be happily

G ^ pafled

130

THE IDLER.

N^8o.

paired in liftening to the mufick on the llage, and
watching the glances of the company ; but how
will the night end in defpondency, when fhe that
imagined herfelf the fovereign of the place fees
Lords contending to lead Iris to her chair ? There
is little pleafure in converfation to her whofe wit
is regarded but in the fecond place ; and who can
dance with eafe or fpirit that fees Amaryllis led
out before her ? She that fancied nothing but a
fucceflion of pleafures, will find herfelf engaged
without defign in numberlefs competitions, and
mortified without provocation with numberlefs
afflictions.

But I do not mean to extinguifh that ardour
which I wifh to moderate, or to difcourage thofe
whom I am endeavouring to reftrain. To
know the world is necelTary, fince we were born
for the help of one another ; and to know it early
is convenient, if it be only that we may learn early
todefpife it. She that brings to London a mind
well prepared for improvement, though fhe mifTes
her hope of uninterrupted happinefs, will gain in
return an opportunity of adding knowledge to
■vivacity, and enlarging innocence to virtue.

TT H* » -

6' 1!

N" 8 1.

THE IDLER.

«3»

Numb. 8i. S at ukd ay y November s, i7S9-

AS the Engfijh army was palTing towards
Quebec along a foft favanna between a
mountain and a lake, one of the petty Chiefs of
the inland regions ftood upon a rock furrounded
by his clan, and from behind the (helter of the
bullies contemplated the art and regularity of
Europ^^m war. It was evening ; the tents were
pitched : he obferved thefecurity with which the
troops refted in the night, and the order with
which the march was renewed in the morning.
He continued to purfue them with his eye till
they could be feen no longer, and then ftood
for fome time filent and penfive. *

Then turning to his followers, " My chil-
«« dren (faid he), I have often heard from mea
" hoary with long life, that there was a time
«' when ouranceftors were abfolute lords of the
♦« woods, the meadows, and the lakes, wherever
' the eye can reach, or the foot can pafs. They
* filhed and hunted, feafted and danced, and
' when they were weary lay down under the
*' firft thicket, without danger and without fear,
«' They changed their habitations as the feafons
" required, convenience prompted, or curiofity
«* allured them, and fometimes gathered the

(J 5 *' fruitt

i
i

14 •<
it

132 THE IDLER. N^Si.

** fruits of the mountain, and fometinies fported
♦* in canoes along the coaft.

** Many years and ages are fuppofed to have
•* been thus pafled in plenty and fecurity ; when
** at lafl a new race of men entered our country
•* from the Great Ocean. They inclofed them-
** felves in habitations of ftone, which our ancef-
** tors could neither enter by violence, nordeftroy
" by fire. They iflued from thofe faflnelTes, fome-
" times covered like the armadillo with fliells,
** from which the lance rebounded on the ftriker ;
" and fometinies carried by mighty beafts which
•* had never been feen in our vales or forefts, of
** fuch ftrength and fwiftnefs, that flight and op-
** pofition were vain alike. Thofe invaders
** ranged over the continent, (laughtering in
** their rage thofe that refifted, and thofe that
"** fubmitted in their mirth. Of thofe that re-
•* mained, fome were buried in caverns, and
" condemned to dig metals for their matters ;
** fome were employed in tilling the ground, of
** which foreign tyrants devour the produce;
** and when the fword and the mines have de-
" flroyed the natives, they fupply their place by
** human beings of another colour, brought
** from fome dillant country to perifh here
•'Under toil and torture.

** Some there are who boaft their humanity,
** and content themfelves to feize our chaces
" and fifhcries, who drive us from every track

((

N^8i. THE IDLER. 133

*' of ground where fertility and plcafaiitnefs in-
** vite them to fettle, and make no war upon us
** except when we intrude upon our own lands.
" Others pretend to have purchafed a right of
** refidence and tyranny ; but furely the info-
*' lence of fuch bargains is more ofFen five than
** the avowed and open dominion of force.
** What reward can induce the poflefTor of a
** country to admit a ftranger more powerful than
*' himfelf ? Fraud or terror muft operate in fuch
contrails ; either they promifed proteftion
which they never have afforded, or inflruflion
*• which they never imparted. We hoped to be
** fecured by their favour from fome other
** evil, or to learn the arts of Europe, by which
** we might be able to fecure ourfelves. Their
*' power they have never exerted in our defence,
** and their arts they have ftudioufly concealed
" from us. Their treaties are only to deceive,
** and their traffick. only to defraud us. They
♦* have a written Law among them, of which
" they boaft as derived from Him who made the
" Earth and Sea, and by which they profefs
" to believe that man will be made happy
«* when Hfe fliall forfakc him. Why is not
*' this Law communicated to us ? It is concealed
** becaufc it is violated. For how can they
" preach it to an /nJian nation, when I am told
" that one of it^ firft precepts forbids them to do
•* to others what they would not that others
*' fliould do to them i

tf '

i I

t y^^^l

flHH

' H^^l

' WEM

■ flu

> 'i^^^i

'^9

134 THE IDLER. N^ 81.

** But the time, perhaps, is now approaching
** when the pride of ufurpation fhall be crufhed,
** and the cruelties of invafion fhall be revenged.
** The fons of Rapacity have now drawn
** their fwords upon each other, and referred
** their claims to the dcciiion of war ; let us
** look unconcerned upon the f ^ughter, and
** remember that the death of : European

** delivers the country from a tyrauc and a .ob-
** ber; for what is the claim of either nation,
** but the claim of the vulture to the leveret, of
■•* the tiger to the faun ? Let thdm then continue
** to difpute their title to regions which they
** cannot people ; to purchafe by danger and
** blood the empty dignity of dominion over
" mountains which they will never climb, and
** rivers which they will never pafs. Let us en-
*' deavour, in the mean time, to learn their dif-
** cipline, and to forge their weapons ; and,
•' when they Ihall be weakened with mutual
♦* llaughter, let us rufh down upon them, force
** their remains to take Iheltcr in their (hips,
•* and reign once more in our native country.'

Numb*

N'8a.

THE IDLER,

t3S

Numb. 82. Saturday, November lo^ 1759.

To the IDLER.

Sir,

DISCOURSING ill my laft letter on
the different pra£\ice of the Italian and
Dutch Painters, I obfcrved that ** the /taiian
*' Painter attends only to the invariable, the
** great and general ideas which are fixed and in-
*' herent in univerfal nature.**

I was led into the fubje£l of this letter by en-
deavouring to fix the original caufe of this con-
du£b of the Italian Matters. If it can be proved
that by this choice they feleded the moft beauti-
ful part of the creation, it will Ihew how much
their principles are founded on reafon, and, at
the fame time, difcover the origin of our ideas of

beauty.

I fuppofe it will be eafily granted, that no
man can judge whether anyanimalbe beautiful in
its kind, or deformed, who has feen only one of
that fpecies ; that is as conclufive in regard to the
human figure j fo that if a man, born blind,
was to recover his fight, and the moil beautiful
woman was brought before him, he could not de-
termine whether fhe was handfome or not ; nor,
if the moft beautiful and moft deformed were

produced,

136 THE IDLER. N^ 82.

produced, could he any better determine to
which he lliouid give the preference, having feen
only thofe two. To diftinguilh beauty, then,
implies the having feen many individuals of that
fpccies. If it is aiked, how is more ikill ac-
quired by the obfervation of greater numbers ?
I anfvver, that, in confequence of having feen
many, the power is acquired, even without feek-
ing after it, of diftinguifhing between accidental
blemifhes and excrefcenccs, which are continually
varying the furface of Nature's works, and the
invariable general form which Nature moft fre-
quently produces, and always feems to intend in
her produftions.

Thus amongft the blades of grafs or leaves of
the fame tree, though no two can be found ex-
aftly alike, yet the general form is invariable r
a Naturalift, before he chofe one as a fample,
w^ould examine many, fince, if he took the firft
that occurred, he might have, by accident or
other wife, fuch a form as that it would fcarce
be known to belong to that fpecies ; he feleds,
as the Painter does, the moft beautifvJ, that is,
the moft general form of nature.

Every fpecies of the animal as well as the ve-
getable creation may be faid to have a fixed or
determinate form, towards which Nature is con-^
timially inclining, like various lines terminating
in the center j or it may be compared to pen-
dulums vibrating in different directions over one

central

N*=8a. THE IDLER. 157

central point ; anc' as they all crofs the center,
though only one paiTes through any other point,
fo it will be foiincl that perfeft beauty is oftener
produced by nature than deformity ; I do not
mean than deformity in general, but than any
one kind of deformity. To inftance in a par>-
ticular part of a feature ; the line that forms the
ridge of the nofe is beautifiil when it is Orait ;
this then is the central form, which is oftener
found than either concave, convex, or any
other irregular form that (hall be propofed. As
we are then more accuftomed to beauty than de-
formity, we may conclude that to be the reafon
why we approve and admire it, as we approve
and admire cuftoms and fafliions of drefs for no
other reafon than that we are ufed to them ; fo
that though habit and cuftom cannot be faid ta
be the caufe of beauty, it is certainly the caufc
of our liking it : and I have no doubt but that
if we were more ufed to deformity than beauty,
deformity would then lofe the idea now annexed
to it, and take that of beauty ; as if the whole
world (hould agree, that yss and no Ihould change
their meanings ; yes would then deny, and m
would affirm.

Whoever undertakes to proceed further in this
argument, and endeavours to fix a general cri-
terion of beauty refpeamg different fpecies, or
to fhew why one fpecies is m:>rc beautiful than
another, it will be required ,10m him firft to

prove

s>I

^1
Si

Sf .

13^ THE IDLER. N^ g^a.

prove that one fpecies is really more beautiful
than another. That we prefer one to the other,
and with very good reafoii, will be readily
granted ; but it does not follow from thence that
■we think it a more beautiful form ; for we have
no criterion of form by which to determine our
judgement. He who fays a fwan is more beautiful
than a dove, means little more than that he has
more pleafure in feeing a fwan than a dove, ei-
ther from the ftatelincfs o^ its motions or its
being a more rare bird ; and he who gives the
preference to the dove, docs it from fome af-
fociation of ideas of innocence that he always
annexes to the dove ; but if he pretends to de*
fend the preference he gives to one or the other
by endeavouring to prove that this more beauti-
ful form proceeds from a particular gradation of
magnitude, undulation of a curve, or direftion
of a line, or whatever other conceit of his ima-
gination he fhall fix on as a criterion of form,
he will be continually contradiaing himfclf, and
find at laft that the great Mother of Nature will
not be fubjefted to fuch narrow rules. Among
the various Eealbns why we prefer one part of
her works to another, the moft general, I be-
lieve, is habit and cuftom ; cuHom makes, in a
certain fenfe, white black, and black white ; it
is cuftom alone determines our preference of the
colour of the Europeans to the Mthiopians,, and
they, for the fame reafon^ prefer their own co-
lour

N"^ Sj.

THE IDLER. 139

1 fuppofc nobody will doubt, if

lour to ours.

one of their painters was to paint the Cioddcfs
of Beauty, but that he would reprcfcnt her
black, with thick lips, flat nofc, and woolly
hair ; and it feems to me, he would a£t very ^
unnaturally if he did not : for by what criterion
will any one difpute the propriety of his idea?
We, indeed, fay, that the form and colour of
the European is preferable to that of the /Eihlo'
pian ; but I know of no other reafon we have
for it, but that we are more accuftomed to it.
It is abfurd to fay, that beauty is pofTefled of at-
traftive powers, which irrefiftibly feize the cor-
rcfponding mind with love and admiration, fincc
that argument is equally conclufive in favour of
the white and the black Philofopher.

The black and white nations muft, in refpeft
of beauty, be confidered as of different kinds,
at leaft a different fpecies of the fame kind ; from
one of which to the other, as I obferved, no in*
ference can be drawn.

Novelty is faid to be one of the caufes of beauty :
That novehy is a very fufficient reafon why wc
fhould admire, is not denied ; but becaufe it is
uncommon is it therefore beautiful ? The beauty
that is produced by colour, as when we prefer one
bird to another, though of the fame form, on ac-
count of its colour, has nothing to do with this ar-
gument, which reaches only to form. I have
here confidered the word Beauty as being pro-
perly

\l I

ll! . '

i ll

3 l!i
i:

140 THE IDLER. N^g^.

pcrly applied to form alone. There is a nc-
ccfTity of fixing this confined fcnfc ; for there
can be no argumL-nt, if the fcnfc of the word is
extended to every thing that is approved. A
rofe may as well be faid to be beautiful, becaufc
it has a fine fmcll, as a bird becaufe of its co-
lour. When we apply the word Beauty, we do
not mean always by it a more beautiful form,
but fomething valuable on account of its rarity,
ulefulncfs, colour, or any other property. A
liorfc is faid to be a beautiful animal •, but had
a horfe as few good qualities as a tortoife, 1 do
not imagine that he would b« then cllccmed
beautiful.

A fitnefs to the end propofed is fard to be
another caufe of beauty ; but fuppofing we were
proper judges of what form is the moft proper
in an animal to conftitute ftrength or fwiftnefs^,
wc always determine concerning its beauty, be-
fore we exert our underftanding to judge of its
fitnefs.

From what has been faid, it may be inferred,
that tlie works of Nature, if we compare one
fpecics with another, are all equally beautiful ;
and that preference is given from cuftom, or
fome aflbciation of ideas ; and that in creatures
of the fame fpecies beauty is the medium or
centre of all various forms.

To conclude, then, by way of corollary : If
it has been proved, that the Painter, by at-
tending

W 82. THE IDLER. Uf

tending to the invariable and general ideas of
Nature, produces beauty, he muft, by regarding
minute particularities and accidental dilcrimi-
nations, deviate from the univerfal rule, ?\\(X
pollute his canvas with deformity.

Numb. 83. Saturday, Novmhr I'jt 1759.

To the IDLE R.

S I R,

I SUPPOSE yon have forgotten that many
weeks ago I promifed to fend you an ac-
count of my companions at tlie Wells. You
would not deny me a place among the moft
faithful votaries of Idlenefs, if you knew how
^fien I have recoilefted my engagement, and
v^oiitented myfelf to delay the performance for
feme reafon which I durft not examine becaufc
I knew it to be falfe ; how oft^n I have fitten
down to write, and rejoiced at interruption ;
and how often I have praifed the dignity of re-
folution, determined at night to write in tlic
morning, and referred it in the morning to the
quiet hours of night.

I have at lad begun what I have long wifhed
at an end, and find it more eafy than I expected

to continue my narration.

Our

f42 THE IDLER. No 83.

Ouraflembly could boaft no fuch conflellation
of intelledls as Clarendon's band of Aflbciates.
,\Ve had among us no Sdden, Falkland, or IVal-
ler ; but we bad men not lefs important in their
own eyes, though lefs diftinguifhed by the pub-
lick ; and many a time have we lamented the
partiality of mankind, and agreed that men of the
deepeft enquiry fometimes left their difcoveries
die away in filence, that the moft comprehenfivc
obfervcrs have feldom opportunities of imparting
their remarks, and that modeft merit pafles in
the crowd unknown and unheeded.

One of the greateft men of the fociety was
Sim Scruple, who Jives in a continual equi-
poife of doubt, and is a conllant enemy to con-
fidence and dogmatifm. Sim's favourite topick of
converfation is the narrownefs of the human
mind, the fallacioufnefs of our fenfes, the pre-
valence of early prejudice, and the uncertainty
of appearances. Sim has many doubts about the
nature of death, and is fometimes inclined to
believe that fenfation may furvive motion, and
that a dead man may feel, though he cannot
ftir. He has fometimes hinted that man might
perhaps have been naturally a quadruped, and
thinks it would be very proper that at the Found-
ling Hofpital fome children Ihould be inclofed in
an apartment, in which the nurfes fhould be
obliged to walk half upon four and half upon two,
that' the younglings, being bred without the

pre-

N^^3- THE IDLER. 143

prejudice of example, might have no other guide
than Nature, and might at laft come forth into
the world as Genius (hould direft, ere6t or prone^
on two legs or on four.

The next in dignity of mien, and fluency of
talk, was Dick. Wormwood, whofe fole de-
hght is to find every thing wrong. Dick never
enters a room but he fhews that the door and
the chimney are ill-placed. He never walks into
the fields but he finds ground plowed which is
fitter for paftuie. He is always an enemy to the
prefent Fafhion. He holds that all the Beauty
and Virtue of women will foon be deftroyed by
the ufe of Tea. He triumphs when he talks oa
the prefent Syftem of Education, and telk us
with great vehemence, that we are learning
Words when we fliould learn Things. He is of
opinion that we fuck in errors at the nurfe's
breaft, and thinks it extremely ridiculous that
children Ihould be taught to uie the right hand
rather than the left.

Bob Sturdy confiders it as a point of ho-
nour to fay again what he has once faid ; and
wonders how any man, that has been known to
alter his opinion, can look his neighbours in the
face. Boh is the moft formidable difputant of the
whole company , for, without troubling himfelf
to fearch for rcafons, he tries his antagonill with
repeated affirmations. When Bob has been at-
tacked for an hour with all the powers of Elo-
quence

Ik,

r:"''!

ttl.

m
Ira-

'iml

144 THE IDLER, ^ N* 8^.

qiience and Reafon, and his pofition appears to
all but himfelf utterly untenable, he always clofes
the debate with his fir It declaration, introduced
by a llout preface of contemptuous civility :
** All this is very judicious ; you may talk. Sir,
as you pleafe ; but 1 will Hill fay whjit I faid at
iirft." Boi deals much in Univerfals, which he
has now obliged us to let pafs without ex-
ceptions. He lives on an annuity, and holds
that that there are as many Thieves as traders ; he
is of Loyalty unfhaken, and always maintains,
that he who fees a Jacobite fees a Rafcal.

Phil Gentle is an enemy to the rudenefs
of contradi£lion and the turbulence of debate,
Phil has no notions of his own, and therefore
willingly catches from the laft fpeaker fuch as
he lliall drop. This flexibility of ignorance is
eafily accommodated to any tenet; his only dif-
ficulty is, when the difputants grow zealous,
how to be of two contrary opinions at once.
If no appeal is made to his judgement, he has
the art of diftributing his attention and his
fmiles in fuch a manner, that each thinks him
of his own party ; , but if he is obliged to fpeak,
lie then obferves, that the queftion is difficult;
that he never received fo much pleafure from a
debate before ; that neither of the controvertifls
could h^.ve found his match in any other com-
pany ; that Mr. Wormwood's aflertion is very
well fupported, and yet there is great force in

• what

),i«

N°83. THE IDLER. 145

what Mr. Scruple advanced againft it. Hy this
indefinite declaration both are commonly fatif-
fied ; for he that has prevailed is in good hu«
mour ; and he that has felt his own weaknefs is
very glad to have efcaped fo well.

I am, Sir, Yours, &c.

Robin Spritely.

,^f^^^£v5?^^«^<7^^rt^^^^^5M?^J?^^!?^

Numb. 84. Saturday, Novemher 24, 1759.

BIOGRAPHY is, of the various kinds of'
narrative writing, that which is moft
eagerly read, and moft eafily applied to the pur-
pofes t)f life. \

In Romances, when the, wild field of Pof-
fibility lies open to invention, the iiicidentr
may eaiily be made more numerous, the viciffi-
tudes more fudden, and the events more won-
derful ; but from the time of life when Fancy
begins to be over-ruled by reafon, and cor-
re£led by experience, the moft artful tale raifes
little curiolity when it is known to be falfe;
though it may, perhaps, be fonietimes read as
a model of a neat or elegant ftyle, not for the
fake of knowing what it contains, but how it
is written ; or tbofe that are weary of themfelves
may have recourfe to it as a pleafing d-eam, of

Vot.lL H which,

i\ i

)ii

1 i

146 THE IDLER. Sr^,

■which, when they awake, they voluntarily dif-
mifs the images from their minds.

The examples, and events of hiftory prefs, in^
deed, npon the mind with the weight of truth ;
but when they are repofited in the memory,
tliey are ^ftener employed for lliew than ufe,
and rather diverfify ,converfation than regulate
life. Few are engaged in fu^.h fcenes as give
them opportunities of growing wifer by the
dpwnfall of Statefnjen,,or the defeat of Generals.
The llratagems of War, and the intrigues of
Courts, are read by far the greater part of man-
kind, with the fame indifference as the adven-
tures of fabled Heroes, or the revolutions of a
Fairy Region. Between falfhood and ufelefs
truth there is little difference. As gold which
he cannot fpend will make no man rich, fo
knowledge which he cannot apply will wake ,;io
ij;ian wife.

The mifcUievous confequ&nces of vice an4
folly, of irregular defires and predominant paf-
fions, are beft difcovered by thofe relations
which are leveled with the general furface of
life, which tell not how any man became great,
but how he was made happy ; not how he lofl
tlie favour of his Prince, but h.ovv he became
difcontenled with himfelf.

Thofe relations are therefore common) ly of
moft value in which the writer tells his own
llory. lie that reco\^nts the life of another

.<:.o;ii;iioBly

K**84* THE IDLER. 147

commonly dwells moil upon confpicnows events,
ieflens the familiarity of his tale to increafe its
dignity, ihews his favourite at a diftance deco-
rated and magnified like the ancient aftors in
-their tragick drefs, and endeavours to hide the
man that he may produce a hero.

But if it be true, which was faid by a French
Prince, That no man was a Hero to the fervants of
hischamber^ it is equally true, that every man is yet
Icfs a hero to himfelf. H^ that is moil elevated
above the crowd by the importance of his em-
ployments, or the reputation of his genius, feels
lunilclt affe^led by fame or bulinefs but as they
inliuence his domeftic Ufe. The high and low,
as they have the fame faculties and the fame
fenfes, have no Jefs fimilitude in their pains and
pleafures. The fenfations are the fame in all,
though produced by very different occaiions.
The Prince feels the fame pain when an in-
vader feizes a province, as the Farmer when a
thief drives away his cow. Men tlius equal in
themfelvcs will appear equal in honeft and im-
partial Biography ; and thofe whom Fortune or
Nature place at the greateft diftance may afford
inftru6tion to each other.

The writer of his own life has at leaft the firft
qualification of an Hiftorian, the knowledge of
the truth ; and though it may be plaufibly ob-
jected that his temptations to difguife it are equal
to his opportunities of knowing it, yet I cannot

H 2 bat

"%}

i! '■

THE IDLER. N^ 84.

b\lt think that impartiality may be expefted with
equal confidence from him that relates the paf-
fages of his own life, as from him that delivers
tlie tranfa«5^ions of another.

Certainty of knowledge not only excludes
miftake, but fortifies veracity. What we col-
left by conjefture, and by conjefture only can
one man judgf of another's motives or fenti-
ments, is eafily modified by fancy or by defire ; as
obje£ts imperfeftly difcerned take forms from
the hope or fear of the beholder. Bxit that
which is fully known cannot be falfified but
with reluftance of underftanding, and alarm of
confcience ; of Underftanding, the lover of
Truth ; of Gonfcience, the fentinel of Virtue.

He that writes the Life of another is either
his friend or his enemy, and wifhes either
to exalt his praife or aggravate his infamy ; many
temptations to falfehood will occur in the dif-
guife of paffions, too fpecious to fear much re-
liftance. Love of Virtue will animate Panegy-
rick, and Hatred of Wickednefs embitter Ccn-
fure. The Zeal of Gratitude, the Ardour of
Patrlotifm, Fondnefs for an Opinion, or Fide-
lity to a. Party, may eafily overpower the vigi-
lance of a mind habitually well difpofed, and
prevail over unaffifted and unfriended Veracity.

But he that fpeaks of himfelf has no motive
to Fallhood or Partiality except Self-love, by
which all hav» fo often been betrayed, that all
are on the watch agaiuft its artifices. He that

writes

K'84.

THE IDLER,

«49

writes an Apology for a fingk a£tion, to con-
fute an Accufation, to recommend himfelf to
Favour, is indeed always to be fufpe£tcd of fa-
vouring his own caufe -, but be that fits down
calmly and voluntarily to review his Life for
the admonition of Pofterity, or to amufe him-
felf, and leaves this account unpublilhed, may
be commonly prefumcd to tell Truth, fince
Fallhood cannot appeafe his own Mind, and
Fame will not be heard beneath the Tomb.

,;^^0HfJ^i^^^k,f^^0N€^fS^0^f^^^it^

Njwtb. 85. Saturday, Decmbtr i, 1759,

ONE of the peculiarities which diftinguiih
the prefent age is the multiplication of
books. Every day brigns new advertifements
of literary undertakings j and we. are flattered
with repeated promifes of growing wife on eaficr
terms than pur progenitors.

How much either happinefs or knowledge is
advanced by this mtiltitude of Authors, it is not
very eafy to decide.

He that teaches us any thing which we knew
not before, is undoubtedly to be reverenced as a
Mailer. He that conveys knowledge by more
pleafing ways may very properly be Joved as a
benefactor ; and he that fupplies life with inno-

cent

>50 T H E I D L E R. N° 55.

cent amufement will be certainly carefled as a
plealing companion.

But fdw of thofe who fill the world with
"books have any pretenfions to the hope either
©f pleafing or inftrufting. They have often no
other tafk than to lay two books before them,
out of which they compile a third, without any
new materials of their own, and witii very little
application of judgment to thofe which former
Authors have fupplied.

That all compilations are ufelefs I do not af-
fert. Particles of Science are often very widely
fcattercd. Writers of cxteniivc comprchenfion
have incidental remarks upon topicks very re-
mote from the principal lubjefl, which are of-
ten more valuable than formal treatifes, and
which yet are not known becaufe they are not
promifed in the title. He that collects thofe
under proper heads is very laudably employed ;
for though he exerts no great abilities in the
work, he facilitates the progrefs of others, and
by making that eafy of attainment which is al-
ready written may give fome mind, more vigo-
rous or more adventurous than his own, leifute
for new thoughts and original defigns.

But the colleftions poured lately from the
prefs have been feldom made at any great ex-
pence of time or inquiry, and therefore only
ferve to diftrad choice without fupplying any
veal want.

Kog^, THE IDLERV r^r

It is obferved that a cmupt Socitty has many
lawi i 1 know not whether it is not equally true,
that an ignorant Jge has many Books. When the
freafures of ancient knowledge lye unexamined,
and original Authors are negleaed and forgotten.
Compilers and Pkgiaries are encouraged, who
give us again what we had before, and grow
great by fetting before us what our own flotU
had hidden from our view. . . . '

Yet are not even thefe Writers to be indifcri-
minately cenfured and rejeaed. Truth like
Beauty varies its fafliions, and is beft recom-
mended by difFcrent drefles to different mmds ;
and he, that recalls the attention of mankind
ro any part of learning which time has left be-
hind it, may be truly faid to advance the lite-
rature of his own age. As the manners of na-
tions vary, new topicks of perfuafion become
neceflary, and new combinations of imagery are
produced j and he that can accommodate himfe^f
to the reigning tafte, may always have readers
who perhaps, would not have looked upon better

performances.

To exaa of every man who writes that he
fhould fay fomething new, would be to reduce
Authors to a fmall number ; to oblige the moil
fertile Genius to fay only what Fs new, would
be to contraa his volumes to a few pages. Yet,
furely, there ought to be fome bounds to repeti-
tion ; libraries ought no more to be heaped for

H A ever

'I .

M .

L' i

15a THE IDLER. ^^"85.

ever with the fame thoughts differently ex-
prefled, than with the fame books differently de-
corated.

The good or evil which thefe fecondary Wri-
ters produce is feldom of any long duration.
As they owe their exiftence to change of fafhion,
they commonly difappear when a new faihioii
becomes prevalent. The Autljors that in any na-
tion laft from age to age are very few, becaufc
there are very feiy that have any other claim to
notice than that they catch hold on prefent cu-
liofity, and gratify fome accidental dcfirc, or pro-
duce fome temporary conveniency.

But however the Writer? of the Day may de-
fpair of future Fame, they ought at leaft to for-
Jjfar any prefem mifchief. Though they can-
.pot arrive at eminent height* of excellence,
tjiey mightkeep ihemfelvesharmJefs. Theymight
take care to inform themfelves before they at-
tempt to inform others, and exert the little
influence wnidi they have for honeft purpofes.

But fuch is the prefent flate of our literature,
that the ancient Sage, who thought a great Book
^ great EvU, would now think the multitude of
Books a multitude of Evils. He would con-
fider a bulky Writer who engroffed a year, and
9. fwarm of Pamphleteers who ftolc each an
Jiour, as equal wallers of human life, and would
inake no other difference between them, tlian
between a gcftjl pf fyey, aji^ ^^ f Ijght of Lo-

Numb.

N' 38.

THE IDLER.

»53

Numb. S6. Saturday, i^/^/w^/^" 8, i'jS9*
To the IDLE R.

Sir,

I AM a yoang Lady newly married to a young
Gentleman. Our Fortune is large, our
Minds are vacant, our Difpofitions gay, our
Acquaintances numerous, and our Relations
fplendid. We confidered tliat Marriage, like
Life, has its Youth, that the firll year is tlic
year of Gaiety and Revel, and refolved to fee th©
Shews and feel the Joys of London before the in-
creaie of our family fhould confine us to domef-
tick Cares and domeftick Plcafures.

Little time was fpcnt in preparation; th^
coach was harnaffed, and a few days brought us
to Lendan, and we alighted at a lodging pro-
vidsd for us by Mik Biddy %'ifie, a maidea
niece of my hufband's father, where we found
Apartments on a fecond floor, which my coulin
told us would fcrvc us till wc could pleafe our-
fclves with a more commodious and elegant
habitation, and which the had taken at a very
high price, bccaufe it was not worth the while to*
make a hard bargain for fo fhorta time.

Here 1 intended to lie concealed till my netjr
cloaths were made^ and my new lodgin^^ hired ;

H 5 l>ttfe

HHi

..,

154 THE IDLER. N 86.

but Mifs Trip had fo induftriouny given norice
of our arrival to all her acquaintance, that Iliad
the mortification next day of feeing the door
thronged with painted coaches, and chairs with
coronets, and was obliged to receive all my
hufband*s relations on a fecond floor.

Inconveniences are often balanced by fome
advantage : the elevation of my Apartments fur-
nilhed a fubjcft for converfation, which, with-
out fome fuch help, wefhould have been in dan-
ger of wanting. Lady Stawly told us how many
years had pafTed fmce (he climbed fo many fteps..
Mifs ^/7 ran to the window, and thought it
charming to fee the walkers fo little in the flreet ;
and Mifs Gentle went to try the fame experi-
ment, and fcreamed to find herfelf fo far above
the ground.

They all knew that we intended to remove^
and therefore all gave me advice about a proper
choice. One flreet was recommended for tlifi
purity of its air, another for its freedom from
noife, another for its nearnefs to the Park, ano-
ther becaufe there was but a ftep from it to all
places of Diverfion, and another, becaufe its in-
habitants enjoyed at once the town and country.
I had civility enough to hear every recommen^
teion with a look of curiofity while it was made,
'and of aquiefcence when it was concluded, but
in my heart felt no other defire than to be free
fromtJ^e djfgracc of a fccood floor, and carejd

liuie

*-^r~%^ ^t^L.

N°86.

THE IDLER.

'55

little where I ihould fix, if the Apartments were
fpacious and fplendid.

Next day a chariot was hired, and Mifs Trifii
was difpatched to find a lodging. She returned
in the afternoon, with an account of a charm-
ing place, to which my hulband went in the
morning to makf the contract. Being young and
unexperienced, he took with him his friend Ned
^ici, a gentleman of great fkill in rooms and
furniture, who fees, at a fingle glance, what-
ever there is to be commended orcenfured. Mr,
^dick^ at the firft view of the houfe, declared
that it could not be inhabited, for the Sun in
the afternoon (hone with full glare on the win-
dows of the dining-room.

Mifs Trifle went out again, and (bon dif*
covered another lodging, which Mr. ^Uk went
to furvey, and found, that, whenever the wind
fhould blow from the Eaft, all thefmoke of the
city would be driven upon it* -

A magnificent fett of rooms was the» found irt
one of the ftreets hqt^v WeJlminPer- Bridge, which
Mifs Trifle preferred to any which (he had yet
feen ; but Mr. ^ickf having mufed upon it for
a timCf concluded that it.woul^ be too much
cxpofea .1 the morning to the fogs that rife from

the River. '

Thus Mr; ^ici proceeded to give us every
day new tcftimonies of his tafte and circumfpec-
tion J fometimes the ftreet was too narrow for a

H 6 double-

ftii

In} 1

156 THE IDLER. N» 86.

double range of Coaches ; fometimes it was an
©bfcure place, not inhabited by Perfons of
Quality. Some places were dirty, and fome
crowded ; in fome houfes the furniture was ill*
fuited, and in others the flairs were too narrow.
He had fuch fertility of objections that Mifs
ITrifte was at laft tired, and defilted from all at*
tempts for our accomnibdation.

In the meantime I have Hill continued to fee my
company on a fecond Hoor, and am aiked twenty
times a day when I am to leave thofe odious
lodgings, in which I live tumultuoufly without
pleafure, and expenfively without honour. My
hufband thinks fp highly of Mr. ^ick^ that he
cannot be perfuaded to remove without his ap-
probation ; and Mr. ^ick thinks his reputation
laifed by the multiplication of difficulties.

In this diftrefs to whom can I have recourfe ?
I find my temper vitiated by daily difappoint-
ment, by the fight of Pleafures which 1 cannot
partake, and the pofleilioa of Riches which I
cannot enjoy. Dear Mr. JdUr^ inform my
huiband that he is tri^ng away, in fuperHuous
vexation, the few montlis which Culiiom has
appropriated to Delight ; that matcimonial quar-
xcU are not eaii}y reconciled betweea Dhofe that
have no children ; that wherever we fettle he
m.uA always find fom& inco&venience -y but no-
thing

N»86. THE IDLER. ^S7

thing is fo much to be avoided as a perpetual ftatc
of Enquiry and Sufpence.
1 am, Sir,

Your humble fervant,

Peggy Heartlesj.

Numb. 87. Saturday, December 15, 1759.

OF what we know not we can only judge
by what we know. Every novelty ap-
pears more wonderful as it is more remote frotrv
any thing with which experience or tellimony
have hitherto acquainted us j and if it paffes fur-
ther beyond the notions that we have been ac-
cuftomed to form, it becomes at laft incredible.
We feldora confider that human knowledge
is very narrow, that national manners are forme4
by chance, that uncommon coajunaures of
caufes produce rare effeas, or that what is im.-
poflible at one time or place may yet happen ni
another. It is always cafier to deny than 10 eit.
quire. To refufe credit confers, for a monent
an appearance of fuperiority, which every httl«
mind is tempted t6 alTume when it may be gained
fo cheaply as by withdrawing attentioa from
evidence, anddechning the fatigue of comparing

proba-

J58 THE IDLER. N** 87.

probabilities. The moft: pertinacious and vehe-
ment demonftrator may be wearied in time by
continual negation ; and Incredulity, which an
oJdPoet, in his Addrefs to Raleigh, calls the IVit
»f Fools, obtunds the argument which it cannot
anfwer, as wool-facks deaden arrows though they
-cannot repel them.

Many Relations of travellers have been flighted
as fabulous, till more frequent Voyages have
confirmed their veracity ; and it may reafonably
be imagined, that many ancient Hiftorians are
unjuftly fufpedled of falfhood, becaufe our own
times afford nothing that referables what they
tell.

Had only the Writers of Antiquity informed
\3S that there was once a nation in which the
wife lay down upon the burning pile only to mix
her allies with thofe of her bulband, we fliould
have thought it a tale to be told with that of
Endymion's Commerce with the Moon. Had
only a fingle Traveller related that many nations
of the earth were black, we Jhould have thought
the accounts of Nfgroes and of the Phoenix equally
credible* But of black, men the numbers are
too great, who are now repining under EngHjh
cruelty, and the cuftom of voluntary cremation
is not yet loft among the Ladies of India^ -

Few narratives will, either to men or women;
appear more incredible than the hiftories of the
Amazons i of female nations of whofe conftitu-

tiom^

N'^a.); THE IDLER. 159

tion it was the effential and fundaraefital law
to exclude men from all participatioa either of
public affairs or domeftic bufincfs ; where
female armies marched under female captains,
female farmers gathered the harveft, female part-
ners dan<:ed together, aiid female wits diverted

one another.

Yet feveral ages of anttquity have tranfmitted
accounts of the Amazom oi Caucafus ; and. of the
Amazons of Amerlcoy who have given their name
to the greateft River in the world. Condamine
lately found fuch memorials as can be expefled
among erratick. and unlettered nations, where
events are recorded only by tradition, and. new
fwarms fettling in the country, from time to
time, confufe and efface all traces of former

times.

To die with hufbands,, or to live without
them, are the two extremes which the Prudence
and Moderation oi European Ladies have, in all
ages, equally declined; they have never been
allured to death by the kindnefs or civility of the
politeft nations, nor has the roughnefs and. bru-
tality of more favage countries ever provoked
them to doom their male affbciates to irrevoca-
bl«" banifliment. The Bohemian matrons arc
faid to have made one fhort ftruggle for fupe-
riority ; but, inftead of banifhing the men, they
contented themfelves with condemning them to

fcrvile

'. Mil 1

,-. i.

« 1

i6o THE IDLER. N<^ gy

fervile offices ; and their conftitution, thus left
imperfe£t, was quickly ovei thrown.

There is, I think, no clafs of Engltjh women
from whom we are in any danger of Amazonian
tifurpation. The old Maids feem neareft to in-
dependence, and moft likely to be animated by
revenge againft mafculine authority ; they often
fpeak of men with acrimonious vehemence, but
it is feldom found that they have any fettled
hatred againft them, and it is yet more rarely
obferved that they have any kindnefs for each
other. They will not eafily combine rn any
plot ; and if they Ihould ever agree to retire and
fortify themfelves in caftles or in mountains, the
fentinel will betray the paffes in fpite, and the
garrifon will capitulate upon eafy terms, if the
befiegers have hand fo me fword-knots, and are
well fupplied with fringe and lace.

The Gamefters, if they were united, would
make a formidable body ; and fince they con-
iider men only as beings that are to lofe tlieir
moneys they might live together without any
wifh for the Officioufnefs of Gallantry or the
Delights of diverfified Converfation. But as
nothing would hold them together but the hope
of plundering one another, their government
would fail from the defeat of its principles, the
men would need only to negle£t them, and they
would perilh in a few weeks by a civil war.

I do

N^g;, THE IDLER. 161

I do not mean to cenfure the Ladies of Eng'
land as defeftivc in knowledge or in fpirit, when
I fuppofe them unlikely to revive the military
honours of their fex. The chara^er of the an-
tient ySmazons was rather terrible than lovely ;
the hand could not be very delicate that was only
employed in drawing the bow and brandifhing
the battle-axe ; their power was maintained by
cruelty, their courage was deformed by ferocity,
and their example only Ihews, that men and
women live beft together.

||.iil

jM||jng^|

^;^^^^i,J^(^icJ0l^^iJ^^^ir^.>^^^i^

ti-:l

Numb. 88. Saturday, December 22, i759«

WHEN the Philofophers of the laft Age
were firft congregated into the Royal
Society, great expectations were raifed of the
fudden progrefs of ufeful Arts ; the time was
fuppofed to be near when Engines Ihould turn
by a perpetual motion, and Health be fecure by
the univerfal Medicine ; when Learning fhouid
be facilitated by a real Character, and Commerce
extended by (hips which could reach their Ports
in defiance of the Tempeft,

But Improvement is naturally flow. The
Society met and parted witUout any vifiblc dimi-
nution

i6a TH£ IDLER. N«8^:

iiution of tlie miferies of life. The Gout and
Stone were Hill painful, tke Ground that was not
plowed brought no Hapveft, and neither Oranges
nor Grapes would grow upon the Hawthorn. At
iart, thofe who were difappoiiucd began to be
angry ; thole Jikewife who-hated innovation were
glad to gain an opportunity of ridiculing men
who had depreciated, perhaps with too much
.arrogance, the Knowledge of- Antiquity. And
it appears from fomc of their earlieft apologies,
that the P! ilofophers felt with great fenfibility
the unwelcome importunities of thofe who were
daily afking, ** What have ye done f"

The truth is, that little had been done com-
pared with what Fame had been fufFeredto pro-
mife ; and the qucftion could only be anfwered
by general apologies and by new hopes, which,
when they were fruflrated; gave a nevy occafion
to the fame vexatious enquiry.

This fatal queftion has difturbed the quiet
of many other minds. He that in the latter
part of his life too ftri£lly enquires what he has
done, can very feldom receive from his own'
heart fuch an account as will give him fatisfac-
iion.

We do not indeed fo often difappoint others
as ourfelves. We not only think. more high l-y
than others of our own abilities, but allow our-
felves to form hopes which we never commiirii-
eate, and pleafe oxv: thoughts with employnicnts

vvhiclv

N*88. THE IDLER. ' 163

which none ever will allot us, and with eleva-
tions to which wc are never expeaed to rife 5
and when our days and years are pafled away in
common bufinefs or common amufements, and
we find at laft that we have fufFered ourpurpofeJ
to deep till the time of aftion is paft, we are re-
proached only by our own. reflexions ; neither
our friends nor our enemies wonder tluit wc
live and die like the. reft of mankind; that we
live without notice, and die without mem.orial :
they know not what tafk we had propofed, and
therefore cannot difcern whether it is finifhed.

He that compares what he has done with what
he has left undone, will feel the cfFeft which
mu ft always follow the comparifon of imagina-
tion with reality ; he will look with contempt
on his own unimportance, aiid wonder to what
purpofc he came into the world -, he will repine
that he fhall leave behind him no evidence of his
having been, that he has added nothing to tlic
fyftem of life, but has glided from Youth to Age
among the crowd, without any effort for dif-

tinftion. , r ,1 ,

Man is feldpm wilUng to let fall the opmioa

of his own dignity, or to believe that he does
little only becaufe every individual is a very httle
being. He is better content to want Diligence
than Power, and fooncr confefles the De-
pravity of his Will than the In^becillity of his

Nature. ^ '

i: torn

I It

1^4 TkE IDLER. i>jo g^

From this millaken notion of human Great-
nefs it proceeds, that many who pretend to have
made great Advances in Wifdom fo loudly de-
clare Uiat they dcfpife themfelves. If I had ever
found^any of the Self-contemners much irritated
or pained by the confcioufncfs of their mean-
nefs, 1 fhould have given them confolation by
obferving, that a little more than nothing is as
much as can be cxpeaed from a being who
with refpea to the multitudes about him is him-
felf little more than nothing. Every man is ob-
liged by the Supreme Mafter of the Univerfe to
improve all the opportunities of Good which
are afforded him, and to keep in continual ac-
tivity fuch Abilities as are beftowcd upon him,
But he has no reafon to repine, though his
Abilities are fmall, and his Opportunities few.
He that has improved the Virtue or advanced
the Happinefs of one Fellow-creature, he that
has afcertaincd a fingle Moral Propofition, or
added one ufeful Experiment to Natural Know-
ledge, may be contented with his own Perfor-
mance, and, with refped to mortals like him-
felf, may demand, like Auguftuu to be difmiflcd
at his departure with Applaufe

NUMBt

N^ »9.

TIHE IDLER.

'6i.

Numb. 89. Saturday, December 2^, ^1S9*

*A)fi^H Kf etTTS^H, £piCT«

HO W Evil came into the world ; for what
reafon it is that Life is overfpread with
fuch boundlefs varieties of mifery ; why the only
thinking being of this globe is doomed to think
merely to be wretched, and to pafs his time
from youth to age in fearing or in fuifering
calamities ; is a queftion which Philofophers
have long afked, and which Philofophy could
never anfwer.

Religion informs us that Mifery and Sin were
produced together. The depravation of human
will was followed by a diforder of the harmony
of Nature ; and by that Provideace which often
places antidotes in the neighbourhood of poi-
fons, vice was checked by mifery, left it Ihould
fwell to univerfal and unlimited dominion.

A ftate of Innocence and Happinefs is fo re-
mote from all that we have ever feen, that
though we can eafily conceive it poffible, and
may therefore hope to attain it, yet our fpecu-
lations upon it muft be general and confafed.
We can difcover that where there is univerfal
Innocence, there will, probably, be univerfal
Happinefs j for why Ihould Afflidlions be per-
mitted

'' ^Hl

il^^H

m -rkAii

ell

^66 THE IDLER. N'' Sq.

mlttcd to Infeft beings who are not 1 1> danger
of corruption from Bleflings, and where there
js no ufe of Terrour nor caufe of Punifliment?
But in a world hke r,^}rs, where our Senfes af-
fault us, and oiir HcbjIv betray us, we fhould
pafs on from cruiie to crime, heedlefs and re-
nK)rfelefs, if Mifery did not {land in our way,
and our own Pains admonilli us of our folly.

Almoft all the Moral G' od which is uftamon2:
US, is the apparent ciT^^ of Phyfical Evil.

Goodnefs is divided by Divines into Sober-
ncfs, Rightcoufuefs, and Goodlinefs. Let it be
examined haw eacli of thefc Duties would be
praiflifed if there were no Phyfical Evil to eii'
force it.

Sobriety, or Temperance, is nothing but the
forbearance of Pleafure ; and if Pleafurc was
not followed by Pain, who would forbear it ?
We fee every hour thofe in whom tlie defire of
prefent indulgence overpowers all fenfe of paft
and all forefight of future mifery. In a remif-
fion of tlie Gout the Drunkard returns to his
Wine, and the Glutton to his Feaft ; and if
neither Difeafe nor Poverty w^ere felt or dreaded,
every one would {ink down in idle fenfuality,
without any care of others, or of himfelf. To
cat and drink, and lie down to fleep, would be
tlie whole bufinefs of mankind.

Righteoufnefs, or the fyftem of Social Duty,
fiiay be fubdivided into Juftice and Charity. Of

Juftice

N^Sq. the idler. 167

Juftice one of the Heathen Sages has fhcwn, with
gTcat acutenefs, that it was imprefled upon
mankind only by the inconveniences which In-
juflico had produced. *' In the firft agns," fays
he, ** men a6led without any rule but the im-
*' pulfe of Defirc, they praftifed Injuftice upon
** others, and fufFe red it from others in their turn;
^' but in tin., it was difcovcrd, that the pain of
*' fuffering wrong was greater than the picafure
*' of doing it ; and mankind, by a general com-
*' pa(St, fubmitted to lie rcllraint of laws, and
" rcfigncdthe plrafurc to efcnpc the pain."

Of Charity it is fuperfluous to obferve,
tliat it could have no place if there were no want ;
for of a virtue which could not be pr:i<5lifed, the
omiflion could not be culpable. Evil is not
only the occa(ion:^l but the efficient caufe of cha-
rity,; we are incited to the rehef of mifery by
the confcioufnefs that we have the fame nature
with the fuflerer, that we are in danger of the
fame diilrelTes, .and may fomctime implore the
f^me afiiftance.

Godlinefs, or Piety, k elevation of the mind
towards the Supreme Being, and extcnfion of
the thoughts of another life. The other life is
future, and the Supreme Being is invi"fible.
None would have rec urfe to an invifible power,
ibut that all other fubjtjfts had eluded their hopes.
None would fix their attention upon the future,
'i)ut that they ?ire difcontented with the prefent.

5 If

i ■

I SI I

'Sit i>f

ill

,68 THE IDLER. N* 89.

If the fcnfcs arc fcattcd with perpetual Pleafure,
they would always keep the mind in fubjeftion.
Reafon has no authority over us, but by its
power to warn us againft Evil.

In Childhood, while our minds are yet unoc-
cupied, Religion is imprcfled upon them, and
the firft years of almoft all who have been well
educated' are pafled in a regular difcharge of the
duties of Piety. But as we advance forward into
the crowds of life, innumerable delights folicit
our inclinations, and innumerable cares diftraft
our attention. The time of youth is pafled in
noify frolicks ; Manhood is led on from hope to
hope, and from projca to projeft j the diflo-
lutenefs of pleafure, the inebriation of fuccefs,
the ardour of expeftation, and the vehemence
of competition, chain down the mind alike to the
prefent fcene : nor is it remembered how foonthis
mift of trifles muft be fcattered, and the bubbles
that float upon the rivulet of life be loft for ever
in the gulph of eternity. To this confideration
fcarce any man is awakened but by fome pref-
fing and refiftlefs evil ; the death of thofe from
whom he derived his pleafures, or to whom he
deftined his pofleffions, fome difeafe which
fhews him the vanity of all external acquifitions,
or the gloom of age which intercepts his pro-
fpefts of long enjoyment, forces him to fix his
hopes upon another ftatc ; and when he has
contended with the tempcfts of life till his

ftrengU

N^89. THE IDLER. 169

ilrcngth fails him, he flics at lafl to the Ihehcr
of Religion.

That mifcry- does not make all virtuous, ex-
perience too certainly informs us ; but it is
no Icfs certain, that of what Virtue there is, Mi-
fcry produces far the greater part. Phyilcal Evil
may be therefore endured with patience, fincc
it is the caufe of Moral Good ; and Patience it«
felf is one Virtue by which we are prepared for
that (late in which Evil (hall be no more.

Numb. 90. Saturday, Jaw^ry 5, 1760.

IT is a complaint which has been made from
time to time, and which fecms to have lately
become more frequent, that Engl'ijh Oratory,
however forcible in argument, or elegant in ex-
prcflion, is deficient and inefficacious, becaufe
uur fpeakcrs want the Grace and Energy of Ac«
tion.

Among the numerous Projeflors who arc
defirous to refine our manners, and improve
our Faculties, fome are willing to fupply the
deficiency of our fpeakers. We have had more
than one exhortation to ftudy the negledVed
Art of moving the paflions, and have been en-
couraged to believe that our tongues, however
feeble in themfclves, may, by the help of our
Vol.11. I liands

r".ii-i

^HE IDLER.

170 1 n Ji. lui^nii. AN'' 90.

^hands and legs, obtain an uncontroulable domi-
nion over the moil ilubborn audience, animate
the infenfible, engage the carclefs, force tears
jVom the obdurate, and money from the avari-
cious.

If by fleight of hand, or niniblenefs of foot,
all thefe v,^onders can be performed, he that Ihall
iiegledl to attain the free ufe of his limbs may
be juflly ccnfured as criminally lazy. But I am
afraid that no fpecimen of fach effc6ts will eafily
be fhewn. if I could once find a fpeaker in
Change-Alley railing the price of ftocks by the
power of perfuaiive gefturcs, I fhould very zea-

, joufly recommend the iludy of his art; but hav-
ing never feen any adlion by which language
was much affifted, 1 have been hitherto in-
clined to doubt whether my countrymen are not
blamed too hai\ily for their calm and motionlefs
Etterance.

Foreigners of many nations accompany their
ipeech with n £^ ion ; but why ihould their ex-
ample have more iniluence upon us than ours
upon them ? Cufloms are not to be changed
but for better. Let thofe, who defire to reform
Tis, fhew the benefits of the change propofed.
When the Fienchman waves his hands and
writhes his body in recounting the revolutions
«:)f a game at cards ;. or the Neapolitan, who tells
the hour of the day, {hews upon his fingers the

,- .number which lie irxntions ; I do not perceive

that

Ili'p"

N«90. THE IDLER. 171

that their manual exercife is of much ufc, or
that they leave any image more deeply imprcfled
by their buftle and vehemence of communi-
cation.

Upon the- Engl! /h Stage there is no want of
Aftion ; but the difficulty of making it at once
various and proper, and its perpetual tendency
to become ridiculous, notwithflanding all the
advantages which art and fhow, and cuftom and
prejudice, can give it, may prove how little it
can be admitted into any other place, where it
can have no recommendation but from Truth
and Nature.

The ufe of Eng'iJIj Oratory is only at the
Bar, in the Parliament, and in the Church.
Neither the Judges of our Laws, nor the Re-
prefentatives of our People, would be much af-
fefted by laboured gefticulation ; or believe any
man the more becaufe he rolled his eyes, or
puffed his cheeks, or fpread abroad his arms, or
Hamped the ground, or thumped his breaft, or
turned his eyes fometimes to the cicling and
fometimcs to the floor. Upon men intcit only
Upon truth, the arm of an Orator has little
power J a credible teftimony, or a cogent argu-
ment, will overcome all the art of modulation,
and all the violence of contortion.

It is well known that in the City which may
be called the Parent of Oratory, all the arts of
mechanical pcrfuafion were banilhed from the

I 2 court

•-WA

'•i

*#
\\'^

n-j% THE IDLER. N-'c^a.

.court of fupreme judicature. The Judges of the
Areopagui confidered a6^ion and vociferation as a
foolifh appeal to the external fenfes, and un-
worthy to be pradlifed before thofe who had no
defire of idle arnulement, and whofe only plea-
fure was to difcover right.

Whether A6lion may not be yet of ufe in
churches, where the Preacher addrefles a mingled
audience, may deferve enquiry. It is certain
that the fenfes are more powerful as the reafoa
is weaker ; and that he, whole ears convey little
to his mind, may fometimes liftcn with his eyes
till truth may gradually take pofTeffion of liis
heart* If there be any ufe of g^fticula.ion, it
■niuft be applied to the ignorant and rude, who
will be more afFe<ftcd by vehemence, than de-
jighted by propriety. In the pulpit, little aftioFi
can be proper ; for aftion can illuftrate nothing
but that to which it may be referred by nature or
by cuftom. He that imitates by his hand a
motion which he .defcribes, explains it by na-
tural fimilitude ; he that lays his hand on his
t>reaft, when he expreffcs pity, enforces his
words by cuflomary illuiion, . Bat 1 heology
'Jhas few topicks to which adlion can be appropri-
,ated ; that aftion which is vague and indetermi-
nate, will at laft fettle into habit, and habitual
peculiarities are quickly ridiculous.

It is perhaps the character of the Engl'ijh to
vdefpife trifles j and that art nvay furely be ac-
counted

'N'()0,

THE IDLER.

173:

counted a trifle, which is at once ufelefs and'
ollcntatious, which can feldom be praftifcd with
propriety, and which, as the mind is more cul-
tivated, is Icls powerful. Yet, as all innocent
means are to be uCcd for the propagation of truth,-
1 would not deler ihofc who are employed in
preaching to common congregations, from any
practice which they may lind perfuafive ; for,
compared with the converfion of fmners, pro-
priety and elegance are kfs than nothing.

^i^^^H^r^m^^^fi^^^^i^^^^^^'^^^^^

Numb. 91. Saturday, Jcnru^ry ii^ 1760*

IT is common to overlook what is ncary by
keeping the eye fixed upon fomething re-
mote. In the fame mat.ncr prefent opportuni-
ties are ncgle£\ed. and attainable good is flighted,
by minds bufied in extcnfive ranges, and intent
upon future advantages, life, however fhorty
is made flill fliorter by wafte of time ; and its
progrefs towards happinefs, though naturally
flow, ii yet retarded by unneceflary labour.

The difficulty of obtaining knowledge is uni-
verfally confelTcd. To fix deeply in the mind
the principles of fcience, to fettle their limita-
tions, and deduce the long fuccelTion of their
confequences ; to comprehend the whole com-

1 3 pafs

111

; S* I

174 THE IDLER. N'qi.

pafs of complicated fyftcms, with all the argu-
ments, objeflions, and folutioiis, and to repo-
fite in the intelleftual treafury the numberlefs
fafts, experiments, apophthegms, and portions,
which muft ftand fingle in the memory, and
of which none has any perceptible connection
with the reft ; is a taik which, though under-
taken with ardour, and purlued with dihgence,
muft. at laft be left anfiniflied by the frailty of
our nature.

To make the way to learning either lefs (hort,
or lefs fmooth, is certainly abfurd ; yet this is
the apparent effeft of the prejudice which feems
to prevail among us in favour of foreign authors,
and of the contempt of our native literature,
which this excurfive curiofity muft necefiariiy
produce. Every man is more fpeedily inftru£led
by his own language, than by any other ; before
we fearch the reft of the world for teachers, let
us try whether we may not fpare our trouble by
finding them at home.

The riches of the Engltjh language are much
greater than they are commonly fuppofed. Many
ufeful and valuable books lie buried in (hops and
libraries, unknown and unexamined, unlefs
fome lucky compiler opens them by chance, and
finds an eafy fpoil of wit and learning. I am
far from intending to infinuate, that other lan-
guages are not necelTary to him who afpires to
eminence, and whofe whole life is devoted to ftudy ;

but

N«9t^. THE IDLER* iff

but to him who reads only for amufement, or
whofe purpofe is not to deck himfelf with the
honours of hterature, but to be quahfi^d for do-
meftick ufefuhiefs, and fit down content with
fubordinate reputation, we have authors fuf-
ficient to fill up all the vs.cancies of his time,
and gratify moft of his wiihes for information.
Of our Poets I need fay little, becaufe they
are perhaps the only authors to whom their
country has done juftice. We confider the
whole fucceflion from Spenfer to Pope, as fupe-
rior to any names which the Continent can
boaft i and therefore the poets of other nations,
however familiarly they may be fometimes men-
tioned, are very little read, except by thofe wha
defign to borrow their beauties.

There is, I think, not one of the liberal arts
which may not be competently learned in the
Engl'fi) language. He that fearches after mathe-
matical knowledge, may bufy himfelf among
his own countrymen, and will find one or
other able to inflrua him in every part of thofe
abftrufe fciences. He that is delighted with ex-
periments, and wifhes to know the nature of bo-
dies from certain and vifible efFeas, is happily
placed where the mechanical philofophy was firft
eftablillied by a pubiick inftitution, and from
which it was fpread to ?\\ other countries.

The more airy and elegant ftudies of Philo-
logy and Criticifm have little need of any foreign

I 4 i^elp.

J :.y

'Ml

t I

176 THE IDLER. N"9i.

help. Though our language, not being very
analogicaJ, gives few opportunities for gram-
matical refearches, yet wc have not wanted au-
thors who haveconfidercdtheprinciples of fpeech ;
and with critical writings we abound fufficientJy
to enable Pedantry to impofe rules which can
feldom be obferved, and Vanity to talk of books
which are feldom read.

^ But our own language has, from the Reforma-
tion to the piefent time, been chiefly dignified and
adorned by the works of our Divines, who,
confidered as commentators, controvertifts, or
preachers, have tindoubttdly left all other na-
tions far behind them. No vulgar language can
boaft fuch treafurt;s of theological knowledge,
or fuch multitudes of authors at once learned,
elegant, and pious. Other countries, and other
communions, have authors perhaps equal in
abilities and dil'gence to ours ; bur, if we unite
number with excellence, theie is certainly no
nation which muft not allow us to be fuperior.
Of JXlorality little is neceifary to be faid, becaufe
it is comprehended in practical divinity, and h
|)erhaps better taught in Englifh fermons than
in any oth-er books ancient or modern. Nor
fhali I dwell on our excellence in metaphyseal
fpeculations, becaufe he that reads the works of
our divines, will eafily difcover how far human
fubtilty lias been able to penetrate.

Po-

N«9i- THE tDLER. 177

Political knowledge is forced upon us by the
form of our conftitution ; and all the myftcrics
of government are difcovered in the attacks or
defence of every minifler. The original law of
fociety, the rights of fubje£ls, and the preroga-
tives of kings, have been confidered with the
utmoft nicety, fometimes profoundly invefti-
gated, and fometimes familiarly explained.

Thus copioufly inftru£live is the Englijh Izxy-
guage, and thus needlefs is all recourfe to foreign
writers. Let us not therefore make our neigh-
bours proud by foliciting help which we do not
want, nor difcourage our owmi ind lift ry by dif-
ficulties which we need not fufFer.

^^^^^^^^^.^'^^^^i^^^f^.^^^^

Numb. 92. Saturday, January 19, 1760.

l'-\.
?;'!:

^1,

WHATEVER is ufeful or honourable will
be defired by many who never can ob-
tain it ; and that which cannot be obtained when '
it is defircd, artifice or folly will be Jiligcnt to
counterfeit. Thcfe to whom Fortune has de-
nied gold and diamonds decorate themfelves with
ftones and metals, which have fomething of the
Ihow, but little of the value ; and every moral
excellence or intelledtual faculty has. fome vice
or foiiy which imiates its appearance.

I 5 Every

,78 THE IDLER. N° 92.

Every man wiflies to be wife ; and they who
cannot be wife are ahnoft always cunning.
The lefs is the real difcernment of thofe whom
bufinefs or converfation brings together, the
more illuHons are pra£lifed ; nor is caution ever
fo neceflary as with aflbciates or opponents of
feeble minds.

Cunning difFers from wifdom as twilight from
open day. He that walks in the fun-£liine goes
boldly forwards by the neareft way ; he fees that
where the path is ftraight and even, he may pro-
ceed in fecurity ; and where it is rough and
crooked, he eafily complies with the turns, and
avoids the obftrudlions. But the traveller in the
dulk fears more as he fees lefs ; he knows there
may be danger, and therefore fufpefts that he
is never fafe, tries every ftep before he fixes his
foot, and Hirinks at every noife, left violence
Should approach him. Wifdom comprehends
at once the end and the means, eftimates eafinefs
or difficulty, and is cautious or confident in due
proportion. Cunning difcovers little at a time,
and has no other means of certainty than multi-
plication of ftratagems and fuperfluity offufpi-
cion. The man of Cunning always confiders
that he can never be too fafe, and therefore al-
ways keeps himfelf enveloped in a mift, impe-
netrable, as he hopes, to the eye of rivalry or
curiofity.

Upon

N°92. THE IDLER. 179

Upon this principle, Tom Double has formed
a habit ot eluding the moft harmlefs queftion.
What he has no incUnation to aulwer, he pre-
tends iomctimes not to hear, and endea-
vours to divert the enquirer's attention by fome
other fubjca i but, if he be preffed hard by re-
peated interrogation, he always evades a direft
reply. Alk him whom he hkes bell on the
ftage > he is ready to tell that there are feveral
excellent performers. Enquire when he was
laft at the coffee-houfe ; he replies, that the
weather has been bad lately. Defire him to tell
the age of any of his acquaintance i he im-
mediately mentions another who is older or

younger. ■

ff/ill Puzzle values himfelf upon a long reacli.
He forefees. every thing before it will happen,
though he never relates his prognoftications till
the event is pail. Nothing has come to pafs for
thefe twenty years of which Mr. Puzzle had not
given broad hints, and told at lead that it was
not proper to tell. Of thofe prediaions, which
every conchifion will equally verify, he always
claims the credit, and wonders that his friends

, did not underftand them. He fuppofes very
truly that much may be known which he knows
not, and therefore pretends to know much
of vvhich he and all mankind are equally igno-
rant I defired his opinion ycllerday of the
Gmnan war, and was told that, if the PruJJIa>.'s

I 6 were

>':•:-•.

THE IDLER.

180 ItllL, lUJbt-K.. IS^ 92.

were well fupportcd, fometliing great may be
«Kpe£ted ; but that they have very powerful ene-
mies to encounter, that the Auftr'ian general has
long experience, and the Rujftans are hardy and
Tcfolute^ but that no human power is invinci-
We. I then drew the converfation to our own
aifFairs, and invited him to balance the probabi-
lities of war and peace : he told me, that war re-
<ju;res courage, and negociation judgment ; and
that tlie time will come when it will be fecn
whether our (kill in treaty is equal to our bravery
in battle. To this general prattle he will appeal
hereafter; and will demand to have his forefight
applauded, whoever fliall at laft be conquered
or victorious.

With Ntd Smuggle s.\\ is a fecret. He believes
himfelf watched by obfervation and malig-
.nity on every lide, and rejoices in the dexterity
by which he efcaped fnares that never were laid.
Ned holds, that a man is never deceived if he
never truft, and therefore will not tell the name
of his taylor or his hatter ; he rides out every
morning for the air, and pleafes himfclfwith
thinking that nobody knows where he has been ;
when he dines with a friend, he never goes to
his houfe the neareft way, but walks up a bye-
llreet to perplex the fccnf. When he has a
coach called, he never tells him at the door "he
true place to which he is going, butilops him

N° 92.

THE IDLER.

181

in the way that he may give direaions where no-
body can hear him. 1 he price of what he buys
or fells is always concealed. He often takes
lodgings in the country by a*wrong name, and
thinks that the world is wondering where he can
be hid. All thefe tranfaaions he regifters in a
book, which, he fays, will fome time or other
ama7X' pofterity.

It is remarked b" Bacon, that many men try
to procure reputation only by objeaions, of
which, if they areonce admitted, the nullity never
appears, becaufe the defign is laid afide. This
falfe feint of JVif'Om, fays he, h the rum of Bufu
nefs. The whole power of cunning is privative;
to fay nothing, and to do nothing, is the utmoft
of its reach. Yet men, thus narrow by nature,
and mean by art, are fometimes able to rife by
the mifcarriages of bravery and the opennefs of
. integrity ; and by watching failures and fnatch-
ing opportunities obtain advantages which be-
long properly to higher charaaers.

Numb,

..«»;.

SMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

i^.

1.0

I.I

11.25

1^128 125

itt lyi 12.2
s^ uii mil 2.0

llllim

U ill 1.6

'^*

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716)872-4503

iSa

THE IDLER.

93-

Numb. 93. Saturday, January 26, '.760.

I '

W I

I !

Ii i

SAM Softly was bred a Sugar-baker : but
fucceeding to a confiderable eftate on the
death of his elder brother, he retired early from
bufinefs, married a fortune, and fettled in a
country-houfe near Kenti/h-town. Sam, who
formerly was a fportfman, and in his appren-
ticelhip ufed to frequent Burnet races, keeps a
high chaife, with a brace of feafoned geldings.
During the fummer months, the principal paf-
iion and employment of Sam's life is to vifit, in
this vehicle, the moft eminent feats of the No*
bility and Gentry in different parts of the king-
dom, with his wife and fome feleft friends. By
thefe periodical excurfions Sam gratifies many
important purpofes. He aflifts the feveral preg-
nancies of his wife ; he Ihews his chaife to the
beft advantage ; he indulges his inlatiable curio-
fity for finery, which, fince he has turned gen-
tleman, has grown upon him to an extraordinary
degree i he difcovers tafte and fpirit ; and, what
is above all, he finds frequent opportunities of
difplaying to the party, at every houfe he fees,
his knowledge of faraily-conne£iions. At firft,
Sam w,as contented with driving a friend between
London and his villa. Here he prided himfelf in
pointing out the boxes of the citizens on each
fide of the road, with an accurate detail of their

refpeflive

THE IDLER.

185

N*93-

refpeaive failures or fuccefles in trade ; and
harangued on the feveral equipages that were ac-
cidentally pairing. Here, too, the feats, inter-
fperfed on the furrounding hills, afforded ample
matter for Sarrt's curious difcoveries. For one,
he told his companion, a rich J^w had offered '
money ; and that a retired widow was courted at
another* by an eminent Ury-falter. At the fame
time he difcufled the utility, and enumerated the
expcnces, of the IJImgton Turnpike. But Sam's
ambition is at prefent raifed to nobler under-
takings.

When the happy hour of the annual expedi-
tion arrives, the feat of the chaife is furnifhed
with Ogilhfs Book of Roads, and a choice quan-
tity of cold tongues. The moft alarming dif-
after which can happen to our Hero, who thinks
he throws a IVhip admirably well, is to be over-
taken in a road which affords no garter for
wheels. Indeed few men poiTefs more fkill or
difcernment for concerting and conduaing a
Earty of Pleafure. When a Seat is to be fur-
veyed, he has a peculiar talent at fele^ing fomc
Ihady bench in the Park, where the company
may moft commodioufly refrefli themfelves with
cold tongue, chicken, and French rolls; and is
very fagacious in difcovering what cool temple
in the garden will be beft adapted for drinking
tea, brought for this purpofe, in the afternoon,
and from which the chaife may be xefumed with

the

i84^ THE IDLER. N^g,.

the greateft convenience. In viewing the houfe
itfelf, he is principally attraaed by the chairs
and bedsi concerning the coft of which his mi-
nute enquiries generally gain the clearcft infor-
mation. An Agate Table eafily diverts his eyes
^om the molV capital ftrokes of Rubens; and a
7*^;% Carpet has more charms than a litian.
5ttw, however, dwells with fome attention on
the Family Portraits, particularly the moft
modern ones ; and as this is a topick on which
thehoufe-keeper ufually harangues in a more co-
pious manner, he takes this opportunity of im-
proving his knowledge of intermarriages. Yet,
notwithflanding this appearance of fatisfadion,
Sam has fome objeftion to all' he fees. One
houfe has too much gilding; at another, the
chimney-pieces are all monuments ; at a third,
L^ conjeaures that the beautiful canal muft cer-
taialy be dried up in a hot fummer. He defpifes
the flatues at Wiltcn, becaufe he thinks he can
fee much better carving at Weftmmjter Abbey.
But there is one general objeaion which he is
fure to make at almoft every houfe, particularly
at thofe which are moft diftinguifhed. He al-
lows that all the apartments are extremely fine,
but adds, with a fneer, that they are too fine to
be inhabited.

Mifapplied Genius moft commonly proves
ridiculous. Had Saw, as Nature intended, con-
tentedly continued in the calmer and lefs con-

fpicuous

THE IDLER.

1S5

N'93-

fpicuous purfuits of Sugar-baking, he might
have been a refpeaable and ufeful charaaer.
At prefent he diffipates his hfe in a fpecious idle-
nefs, which neither improves himfelf nor his
friends. Thofe talents wliich might have bene-
fited fociety, he expofes to contempt by falfe
pretenfions. He affeds pleafuies which he can-
not enjoy, and is acquainted only with thofe
fubjeas on which he has no right to talk, and-
which it is no merit to underftarid.

It! ^^

i J'

\ I'.

Numb. 94. Saturday, Fehrmry 2^ i76o»

IT is common to find young men ardent and
diligent in the purfuit of knowledge ; but
the progrefs of life very often produces laxity
and indifference ; and not only thofe who are at
liberty to chufe thehv bufinefs and araufement^
but thofe likewife whofe profeffions engage them
in literary enquiries^ pafs the latter part of tlieir
time without improvement, and fpend the day
rather in any other entertainment than that
which they might find among their books.

This abatement of the vigour of curiofity i»
fometimes imputed to the infufficiency of Learn-
ing. Men arc fuppofed to remit their labours,,
becaufe they find their labours to have been

vaiivi

lii

r86

THE IDLER.

94.

vain ; and to fcarch no longer after Truth and
Wifdom, becaufe they at laft defpair of finding

them.

But thi« reafon is for the moft part very
falfcly afligned. Of Learning, as of Virtue, it
may be affirmed, that it is at once honoured and
ncglea:ed. Whoever forfakes it will for ever
look after it with longing, lament the lols which
he does not endeavour to repair, and deiire the
good which he wants refolution to ferze and
keep. The Idler never applauds his own Idle-
nefs ; nor does any maiv repent of the diligence
of his youth.

So many hindrances may obftru£l the acqui-
fition of Knowledge, that there is little reafon for
wondering that it is in a few hands. To the
greater part of mankind the duties of life are
inconfiftent with much iludy, and the hours
which they would fpend . upon letters muft be
ilolen from their occupations and their families.
Many fufFer themfelves to be lured by more
fprightly and luxurious pleafures from the fhades
of Contemplation, where they find feldom more
than a calm delight, fuch as, though greater than
all others, its certainty and its duration being
reckoned with its power of gratification, is yet
eafily quitted for fome extemporary joy, which
the prefent moment offers, and another perhaps

will put out of reach.

THE IDLER.

94. I ti iL I u L. r. ts^* 187

It is the great excellence of Learning, that it
borrows very little from time or place j it is not
confined to feafon or to climate, to cities or to
the country, but may be cultivated and enjoyed
where no other pleafure can be obtained. But
this quality, which conftitutcs iTiUch of its value,
is one occafion of negleft ; what may be done at
all times with equal propriety, is deferred from
day to day, till the mind is gradually reconciled
to the omiflion, and the attention is turned to
other objeas. Thus habitual idlenefs gains too
much power to be conquered ; and the foul
Ihrinks from the idea of intelleftual labour and
intenfenefs of meditation.

That ihofe who profefs to advance Learning
fometimes cbftru£t it, cannot be denied; the
continual multiplication of books not only dif-
tra£ts choice, but" difappoints enquiry. To
him that has moderately ftored his mind with
images, few writers afford any novelty ; or
what little they liave to add to the common
ftock of Learning is fo buried in the mafs of
general notions, that, like filver mingled with
the ore of lead, it is too little to pay for the la-
bour of feparation ; and he that has often been
deceived by the promife of a title, at lad grows
weary of examining, and is tempted to confider
all as equally fallacious.

There are indeed fome repetitions always law-
ful, becaufethey never deceive. He that writes

the

r8^

THE IDLER.

94'

tlie Hiftory of paft times, undertakes only to de-
corate known fails by ncv beauties of metbod or
of flyle, or at molV to illuftrate them by his own
reflections. The Author of a lyllem, whether
moral or phyfical, is obliged to nothing beyond
care of fele6tion and regularity of difpofition..
But 'there are others who claim the name of Au-
thors merely to difgrace it, and fill the world
with volumes only to bury letters in their own
rubbilh». The Traveller who tells in a poni-
ous Foliov that he faw the Panthron at Romf^ and
the Miiirxan Vtnus at Fbrtnee ; the Natural Hif»
torian» who, defcribing the productions of a^
narrow Ifland, recounts all that it has in com-
mon with every other part of the world ; the
Collector of Antiquities, that accounts every
thing a curioiity which the Ruins of Her^
cularuum happen to emit, though an inftru-
nient already Ihewn in a thoufand repoiito-
ries, or a cup common to the ancients, the
moderns, and all mankind ; may be juftly cen-
fured as the Perfecutors of wStudents, and the
Thieves of that Time which never can be r&-
ftored..

NlfMB<

V'-^S-

THE IDLER.

•8,

NuMB.95. Saturday, February (^ 1760-

Mr. Idler,

IT is, I think, univcrfally agreed, that feldom
any good is gotten by complaint; yet we find
that few forbear to complain, but thofe who are
afraid of being reproached as the Authors of their
own miferies. I hope, therefore, for the com-
mon permiffion, to Jay my cafe before you and
your readers, by which 1 fhall dilburthen my
heart, though I cannot hope to receive either aC-
-iiftance or confolation.

I am a trader, and owe my fortune to fruga-
lity and induftry. I began with little; but by
the eafy and obvious method of fpending lefs than
1 gain, 1 have every year added fomething to
my llock, and expert to have a feat in the com-
mon council at the next election.

My wife, wlao was as prudent as myfelf,
died fix years ago, and left me one fon and one
•daughter, for whofe fake 1 refolved never to
marry again, and rejected the overture? of Mrs.
Squerzf^ the broker's widow, who had ten thou-*
fand pounds at her own difpofal.

I bred my fon at a fchool near IJl'ngton ; and
i!vhca he had learned arithmetick, and wrote a

good

' jM li

14)0 THL IDLER. N" 95.

good hand, I took him into the fhop, dcfign-
ing, in about ten years, to retirs.* to Stratford or
Huckmy, and leave him cltablifhcd in the bufincfs.

For four years he was diligent and fcdatc, en-
tered the fhop before it was opened, and when
it was Ihut always examined the pins of the
window. In any intermiflion ofbufincTs it was
his conftant praflicc to perufe the Ledger. 1 h;id
ulways great hopes of him, when 1 obfcrved
how forrowfully he would Ihake his head over
a bad debt ; and how eagerly he would liftcn
to me, when 1 told him that he might, at one
time or other, become an Alderman.

We lived together with mutual confidence,
til! unluckily a vifit was paid him by two of his
fchool-fcllows, who were placed, I fuppofe, in
the army, becaufe they were fit for nothing
better: they came glittering in the military
drefs, accofted their old acquaintance, and in-
vited him to a tavern, where, as 1 have been
iince informed, they ridiculed the meannefs of
commerce, and wondered how a youth of fpirit
could fpend the prime of life behind a counter.

I did not fufpe(5l any mifchief. I knew my
fon was never without money in his pocket, and
was better able to pay his reckoning than his
companions, and expe^ed to fee him return
triumphing in his own advantages, and con-
gratulating himfelf that he was not one of thofe

who

1'*

Nr9S. THE IDLER. i^

who cxpofe their heads to a mufquct-bullct for
three (hillings a day.

He returned fullcn and thoughtful ; I fup-
pofed him forry for the hard fortune of his
friends, and tried to comfort him by faying
that the war would foon be at an end ; and that,
if they had any honcft occupation, half-pay
would be a pretty help. He looked at me with
indignation ; and fnatching up his candle, told
me, as he went up the ftairs, that he hoped to ftt
a battle yet.

Why he fhould' hope to fee a battle I could
not conceive, but let him go quietly to fleep
away his folly. Next day he made two mif-
takes in the firft bill, difobliged a cuflomer by
furly anfwers, and dated ail his entries in the
Journal in a wrong month. At night he met
his military companions again, came home late,
and quarrelled with the maid.

From this fatal interview he has gradually loft
all his laudable paflions and defires. He foon
grew ufelefs in the fhop, where, indeed, I did not
willingly truft him any longer ; for he often
miftook the price of goods to his own lofs, and
once gave a promiflbry note inftead of a receipt,

I did not know to what degree he was cor-
rupted, till an honeft taylor gave me notice that
he had befpoke a laced fuit, which was to be left
for him at a houfe kept by theiiftcrof one of my

journeymen.

d.l

,gj THE IDLER. N" qj.

•.ourncvmen. I went to this clandcftinc lodging,

of a fine Gentleman, which he 1"';>>"'\"P°"
credit? or purcl.afcd with money fubduftcd Iroin

"''i^deteaion has made him defperate. He
now openly declares his refolution to be a gen-
tleman ; fays, that his foul is too great for a
couliug-houfe ; ridicules the converfafon of
cUy averns •, talks of new plays, and boxes.
LI ladies ; gives Uuchefles for h.s toafts ; car-
t fiver J readinefs. in his waiftcoat-pocket ,
Z omes home at night in a cha.r, w.th fuch
thunders at the door, as have move than once
brou 'It the watchmen from their ftands.

Li. .e expences will not hurt us ; and I codd
forgive a few juvenile frolicks, .f he would be
cireful of the main ; but his favourite top.ck ,s
contempt of money, which, he fays, .s of no
Xbut to be fpent. Riches, without honour,
he holds empty things •, and once told me to my
face, that wealthy plodders were only purveyors

for men of fpirit. ru-

He is always impatient in the company of h.s
old friends, and feldom fpeaks till he is warmed
with wine, he then entertams us with accounts
that we do not defiretohear, of intrigues among
lords and ladies, and quarrels b^^"""*"" "'
the guards ; ftews a miniature on his fuuiF-box,

N'95- THE IDLER. 193

and wonders that any man can loolqupon ihc
new dancer without rapture.

All this is very provoking, and yet all this
might be borne, if the boy could fiipport his pre-
tenfions. But whatever he may think, he is
yet far from the accompli fhments which he has
endeavoured to purchafc at fo dear a rate. I
have watched him in public places. He fncaks
in like a man that knows he is where he fhould
not be ; he is proud to catch the flighted faluta-
tion, and often claims it when it is not intended.
Other men receive dignity from drefs, but my
booby looks always uiore meanly for his finery.
Dear Mr. Idler, tell him what muft at laft be-
come of a fop, whom pride will not fufFer to be a
trader, and whom long habits in a ihop forbid
to be a gentleman.

I ara, Sir, &c.

Tim. Wainscot.

i i\

Nil

1 '

.-!,,

V-'

'i|

■

1 ^ 9

^ \' m

Vol. II.

Numb.

THE IDLER.

N'96.

Numb. 96. Saturday, February id, 1760.

TJACHO, a King oi Lapland, was in his youth
-" the moft renowned of the northern war-
riors. His martial atchievements remain en-
graved on a pillar of flint in the Rocks of Htinga,
and are to this day folemnly carolled to the
Harp by the Laplanden, at the-fires with which
they celebrate their nightly feftivities. Such
was his intrepid fpirit, that he ventured to pafs
the Lake Vtther to the Ifle of Wizards, where he
defcended alone into the dreary vault in which
a Magician had been kept bound for fix ages,
and read the Gothick charaaers infcribed on his
brazen mace. His eye was fo piercing, that, as
antient chronicles report, he could blunt the
weapons of his enemies only by looking at them.
At twelve years of age he carried an iron veflel
of a prodigious weight, for the length of five
furlongs, in the prefence of all the chiefs of
his father's caftle.

Nor was he lefs celebrated for his prudence
and wifdom. Two of his proverbs are yet re-
membered and repeated among the Laplanders.
To exprefs the vigilance of the Supreme Bemg,
he was wont to fay, Odin's Belt is always buckled.^
To (hew that the mofv profperous condition or
life is often hazardous, his leffon was, When you

flide

N''^. THE IDLER. 195

flide on the fmoothefl ice^ beware of pits beneath.
He confoled his countrymen, when they were
once preparing to leave the frozen defarts of
Lapland^ and refolved to feek fome warmer cH-
mate, by telling them, that the eaftern nations,
notwithftanding their boafted fertility, paffed
every night amidft the horrors of anxious ap-
prehenfion, and were iiiexpreflibly affrighted,
and almoft ftunned, every morning, with the
noife of the fun while he was rifing.

His temperance and feverity of manners were
his chief praife. In his early years he never
tailed wine ; nor would he drink out of a painted
cup. He conftantly flept in his armour, with
his fpear in his hand ; nor would he ufe a
battle-axe whofe handle was inlaid with brafs.
He did not, however, perfevere in this con*
tempt of luxury ; nor did he clofe his days with
honour.

One evening, after hunting the Guks^ or
wild-dog, being bewildered in a folitary foreft,
and having pafled the fatigues of the day with-
out any interval of refrelhment, he difcovered a
large ftorc of honey in the hollow of a pine.
This was a dainty which he had never tailed
before, and being at once faint and hungry, he
fed greedily upon it. From this unufual and
delicious repaft he received fo much fatlsfac-
tion, that, at his return home, he commanded
honey to be ferved up at his table every day.

s '

fv. 2

His

196 THE IDLER. N^ 9^.

His palate, by degrees, became refined and vi-
tiated ; he began to lofe his native relifb for
iimple fare, and contraaed a habit of indulging
himfclf in delicacies ; he ordered the deHghtful
gardens of his caflle to be thrown open, in which
the moft lufcious fruits had been fufFered to
ripen and decay, unobferved and untouched,
for many revolving autumns, and gratified his
appetite with luxurious deflerts. At length he
found it expedient to introduce wine, as an
agreeable improvement, or a neceffary ingre-
dient, to his new way of living ; and having
once tafled it, he was tempted, by little and
little, to give a loofe to the exceffes of intoxi-
cation. His general fimplicity of life was
changed ; he perfumed his apartments by burn-
ing the wood of the moft aromatick fir, and
commanded his helmet to be ornamented with
beautiful rows of the teeth of the rein-deer. In-
dolence and effeminacy ftole upon him by pleafing
and imperceptible gradations, relaxed the finews
of his refolution, and extinguifhed his thirft of

military glory.

While Hacho was thus immeried in picalure
aid in repofe, it was reported to him, one
raorning, that the preceding night, a difaftrous
omen had been difcovered, and that bats and
hideous birds had drunk up the oil which nou-
riflied the perpetual lamp in the temple of Odin.
About the fame time, a meffenger arrived to tell

. iiim.

N°96. TI4E idler. 1^7

him, that the king of Norway had invaded his
kingdom with a formidable army. Hacho^ ter-
rified as he was with the omen of the night, arid
enervated with indulgence, rouzcd himfelf from
his voluptuous lethargy, and, recolle<5ting feme
faint and few fparks of veteran valour, marched
forward to meet him. Both armies joined battle
in the foreft where Hacho liad been loft after
hunting ; and it fo happened, that the king of
Norway challenged ^him to lingle combat, near
the place where he had tafted the honey. The
Lapland Chief, languid and long difufed to arms,
was foon overpowered ; he fell to the ground ;
and, before his infulting adverlary ftruck his head
from his body, uttered this exclamation, which
the Laplanders ftill ufe as an early lelTon to their
children : *' The vicious man fhould date his
** deftru£tioii from the fiifl temptation. How
** juftly do I fall a facrifice to floth and luxury,
** in the place where I lirft yielded to thofe al-
** lurements which feduced me to deviate from
*' temperance and innocence ! Thclioney which
«* I tafted in this foreft, and not the hand of
** the king oi Norway, conquers Hacho,'^

»';i

I a

Numb.

198

THE IDLER.

N-97,

Numb. 97. Saturday, February 23, 1760.

IT may, I think, be juftly obfcrved, that few
books difappoint their readers more than
the Narrations of Travellers. One part of man-
kind is naturally curious to learn the fenti-
ments, manners, and condition of the reft ; and
every mind that has-leifure or power to extend
its views, muft be defirous of knowing in what
proportion Providence has diftributed the bleffings
of Nature, or the advantages of Art, among the
feveral nations of the earth.

This general defire eafily procures readers to
every book from which it can cxpeft gratifi-
cation. The adventurer upon unknown coafts,
and the defcriber of diftant regions, is always
welcomed as a man who has laboured for the
pleafure of others, and who is able to enlarge
our knowledge, and reftify our opinions ; but
when the volume is opened, nothing is found
butfuch general accounts as leave no diftin£t
idea behind them, or fuch minute enumera-
tions as few can read with either profit or de-
light.

Every writer of Travels (hould confider, that,
like all other Authors, he undertakes either .to
inftruft or pleafe, or to mingle pleafure with in-
ftrudtion. He that inftrudts muft offer to the

rim • n A

K°97- ^^^ IDLER. i99

mind fomething to be imitated, or fomething
to be avoided ; he that pleafes muft offer new
images to his reader, and enable him to form a
tacit comparifon of his own ftate with that of

others.

The greater part of Travellers tell nothmg,
becaufe their method of travelling fupplies them
with nothing to be told. He that enters a town
at night, and furveys it in the mormng, and
then haflens away to another place, and guelTes
at the manners of the inhabitants by the en-
tertainment which his inn afforded him, may
pleafe himfelf for a time with a hafty change of
fcenes, and a confufed remembrance of Palaces
and Churches ; he may gratify his eye with va*
riety of Landfcapes, and regale his palate with
. a fuccefTion of Vintages ; but let him be con-
tented to pleafe himfelf without endeavour
to difturb others. Why (hould he record ex-
curfions by which nothing could be learned, or
wirti to make a fhow of knowledge which, with-
out fome power of intuition unknown to other
mortals, he never could attain.

Of thofe who crowd the world with their
itineraries, fome have no other purpofe than to
defcribe the face of the country ; thole who lit
idle at home, and are curious to know what is
done or fuffered in diftant countries, may be
informed by one of thefe wanderers, that on a
certain day he l.-. .>ut early with the caravan,

K 4 ^""^

■ 1 . !l

ifilSl

r f

aoo

THE IDLER.

97'

and in the firft hour's march faw, towards the
fouth, a hill covered with trees, then paffed
over a ftream, which ran northward with a fvvift
conrfe, but which is probably dry in the lum-
mer months ; that an hour after he faw fome-
tliing to the right which looked at a diftance
like a caftle with towers, but which he difco-
vered, after wards to be a craggy rock ; that he
then entered a valley, in which he faw feveral
trees tall and flourifhing, watered by a rivulet
not marked in the maps, of which he was not
able to learn the name ; that the road afterward
grew ftony, and the country uneven, where he
obferved among the hills many hollows worn
by torrents, and was told that the road was
pailable only part of the year ; that going on
they found the remains of a building, once per-
haps a fortrefs to fecure the pafs, or to reflraiii
the robbers, of which the prefent inhabitants
can give no other account than that it is haunted
by Fairies ; that they went to dine at the foot of
a rock, and travelled the reft of the day along
the banks of a river, from which the road turn-
ed aiidc towards evening, and brought them
within fight of a village, which was once a con-
fiderable town, but which afforded them neither
good vi<ftuals nor commodious lodging.

Thus he condu£ls his reader through wet and
dry, over rough and fmooth, without incidents,
without refiedtion ; and, if he obtains his com-
pany

THE IDLER.

201

pany for another day, will difmifs him agam at
night, equally fatigued with a like fucceiriou of
rocks and ftreams, mountains and ruins.

7 his is the common flyle of thoie fons of
enterprize, who vifit favage countries, and
range through folitude and defolation ; who pafs
a defart, and tell that it is fandy ; who crofs a
vallev, and find that it is green. There are
others of more delicate fenfibihty, that viht
only the Realms of Elegance and Softnefs ; that
wander through Italian Palaces, and amufe the
gentle reader with catalogues of Piaures ; that
hear Maffes in magnificent Churches, and re-
count the Number of the Pillars, or Variegations
of the Pavement. And there are yet others, .
who, in difdain of trifles, copy Inicriptions elc<
gant and rude, ancient and modern ; and tran-
fcribe into their book the walls of every edifice,
facred or civil. He that reads thefe books muft
confider his labour as its own reward; for he
will find nothing on which Attention can fix,,
or which Memory can retain.

He that would travel for the entertainment of
others, lliould remember that the great objed
of remark is human life. Every Nation has
fomething particular in its Manufaftures, its
Works of Genius, its Medicines, its Agricul-
ture, its Cuftoms, and its Policy. He only is a
ufeful Traveller, who brings home fomethi-ig
by which his country may be benefited \ who

K 5 pro*

'¥,,

ao2 THE IDLER. No 97

procures fomefupply of Want, or fomc mitigation
of Evil, which may enable his readers to com-
pare their condition with that of others, to im-
prove it whenever it is worfe, and whenever it
is better to enjoy it.

^:^w

Numb. 98. Saturday, March i, 1760.

Sir,

To tht IDLE R.

I AM the daughter of a Gentleman, who
during his life-time enjoyed a fmall income
which arofe from a Pcnfion from the Court, by
which he was enabled to live in a genteel and
comfortable manner.

By the fituation in life in which he was
placed, he was frequently introduced into the
company of thofe of much greater fortunes
than his own, among whom he was always
received with complaifance, and treated with ci -
vility.

At fix years of age I was fent to a boarding
fchool in tlie country, at which I continued tiU
my father's death. This melancholy event hap-
pened at a time when I was by no means of
fofficient age* to manage for myfelf, while the

paflion s

N"98. THE IDLER. 203

paffions of youth continued unfubdued, and be-
fore experience could guide my fentiments or

my actions.

I was then taken from fchool by an uncle, ta
the care of whom my father had committed me
on his dying-bed. With him 1 lived feveral
years, and as he was unmarried, the manage-
ment of his family was committed to me. In
this charadler I always endeavoured to acquit
myfelf, if not with applaufe, at leaft without
cenfure.

At the age of twenty-one a young gentleman
of fome fortune paid his addrefles to me, and
offered me terms of marriage. This propofal
I (hould readily have accepted, becaufe, from vi-
cinity of relidence, and from many opportu-
nities of obferving his behaviour, I had in fome
fort contrafted an afFe£lion for him. My uncle,
for what reafon I do not know, refufed his con-
fent to this alliance, though it would have been
complied with by the father of the young gen-
tleman ; and as the future condition of my life
was wholly dependent on him, I was not willing
to difoblige him, and therefore, though unwil-
lingly, dechned the offer.

My uncle, who poflefled a plentiful fortune,
frequently hinted to me in converfation, that at
his death I fhould be provided for in fuch a man-
ner that I (hould be able to make my future life
comfortable and happy. As this promife was
often repeated, I was the lefs anxious about any

|L 6 pto-

^i|^

' ■'•■ i

;

204 THE IDLER. NV;8.

provifion for myfclf. In a Ihort time my nncic
was taken ill, nnd though all pofTihle means were
made ufc of for his recovery, in a few days he
died.

The forrow arifingfrom the Jofs of a relation,
by whom I had been always treated with the
greateft kindnefs, however grievous, was not
the worft of my misfortunes. As he enjoyed an
almoft uninterrupted Ihte of health, he' was the
lefs mindful of his diflblution, and died intcf-
tate; by which means his whole fortune de-
volved to a nearer relation, the heir at law.

Thus excluded from all hopes of living in the
manner with which I have fo long flattered my-
fclf, I am doubtful what method I fhall take to
procure a decent maintenance. 1 have been edu-
cated in a manner that has fct me above a f^ate
of fervitude ; and my fituation renders me unfit
' for the company of thofe with whom T have hi-
therto converfed. But, though difappointed in
my expeftations, I do not defpair. I will hope
that affiftance may ftill be obtained for innocent
diftref?, and that friendfhip, though rare, is yet
not impoflible to be found.

I am, Sir,

Your humble fervant,

Sophia Heedfull*

Numb,

N°99-

THE IDLER.

20^

Numb. 99. Saturday, March S^ 1760.

AS Ortogrulo( Bafra was one clay wandering
along the ftreets of Bct^^rlnty muilng on
the varieties of merchandize which the Ihops
offered to his view, and obferving the different
occupations which bufied the multitudes on
every fide, ho was awakened from the tranquillity
of meditation by a crowd that obftru6\ed hir. paf-
fage. He railed his eyes, and fiiw the cliicf Vi-
fier, who, having returned from the Divan, was
entering his palace.

Oitogtul mingled with the attendants, and be-
ing fuppofcd to have fomc petition for the Vifier,
was permitted to enter. He furveyed the fpa-
cioufncfs of the apartments, admired the walls
hung with golden tapeftry, and the floors co-
vered whh filken carpets, and dcfpifcd the fimpic
iieatnefs of his own little habitation.

Surely, faid he to himfelf, this palace is the
feat of happinefs, where pleafure fucceeds 10
pleafure, and difcontent and forrow can have
no admilTion. Whatever nature has provided
for the delight of fenfe, is here fprcad forth to
be enjoyed. What can mortals hope or ima-
gine, which the mailer of this palace has not
obtained ? The diihes of luxury cover his table ;
the voice of harmony lulls him in his bowers ;

il '^i

% i'.

io6

THE IDLER.

he breathes the fragrance of the groves of ^Java^
and flccps upon the down of the cygnets of
Ganges. He fpeaks, and his mandate is obeyed ;
he wilhes, and his wifli is gratified ; all whom
he fees obey him^ and all whom he hears flatter
him. How different, Ortogrui, is thy condition,
who art doomed to the perpetual torments of un-
fatisfied defire, and who haft no amufcment in
thy power that can withhold thee from thy own
reflexions ! They tell thee that thou art wife ;
but what does wifdom avail with poverty ? None
will flatter the poor ; and the wife have very
little power of flattering themfelves. Tliat man
is furely the moft wretched of the fons of wretch-
ednefs, who lives with his own faults and fol-
lies always before him, and who has none to
reconcile him to himfelf by praife and venera-
tion. I have long fought content, and hjtve not
found it ; I will from this moment endeavour to
be rich.

Full of his new refolution, he Ihut himfelf in
his chamber for fix months, to deliberate how
lie fhould grow rich ; he fometimes purpofed to.
offer himfelf as a counfellor to one of the Kings
of India ; and fometimes refolved to dig for
diamonds in the mines of Galconda. O \e day^
after fome hours paiTed in violent flu£^M ^ " •. i f
opinion, flecp infeniibly feized him in iiis cnair ;
he dreamed that he was ranging a defart country
in fearch of fome one that might teach him to

grow

N^99' THE IDLER* aoy

grow rich ; and as he ftood on the top of a hill
Siaded with cyprefs, in doubt whither to dircft
his fteps, his father appeared on a fuddcn {land-
ing before him, ** Ortogrul" faid the old man,
** 1 know thy perplexity ; liften to thy father ; turn
thine eye on the oppofite mountain." Ortogrut
looked, and faw a torrent tumWing down the
rocks, roaring with the noife of thunder, and
fcattcring its foam on the impending woods.
** Now," faid his father, " behold the valley that
lies between the hills.'* Ortogrul looked, and
efpied a little well, out of which iffued a fmall
rivulet. ** Tell me now," faid his father,
" doft thou wifh for fudden affluence, that may
pour upon thee like the mountain torrent, or
for a flow and gradual encreafe, refembling the
rill gliding from the well }** ** Let me be quickly
rich,** faid Ortogrul ; ** let the golden flream be
quick and violent." '* Look round thee," faid
his father, •* once again." Ortogrul looked,
and perceived the channel of the torrent dry
and dufty ; but following the rivulet from the
well, he traced it to a wide lake, which the fup-
ply, flow and conftant, kept always full. He
waked, and determined to grow rich by iilent
profit, and perfevering induftry.

Having fold his patrimony, he engaged in
merchandize, and in twenty years purchafed
lands on which he raifed a houfe, equal in

fump-

.^illl

' )l

if . ,,

I )V%

5to8 THE IDLER, N° 99.

fumptuoufnefs to that of the Vifier, td which
he invited all the minifters of pleafnre, ex-
pe,!ting to enjoy all the felicity which he had
imagined riches able to afford. Leifure foon
made him weary of himfelf, and he longed to
be perfuaded that he was great and happy.
He was courteous and liberal ) he gave all that"
approached him hopes of pleafing him, and all
who iliould pleafe him, hopes of being rewarded.
Every art of praife was tried, and every fource
of adulatory fiflion was exhaufted. Ortogrul
heard his flatterers without delight, becaule he
found himfelf unable to believe them. His
own heart told him its frailties ; his own un-
derflanding reproached him with his faults.
"How long," faid be, with a deep figh, ** have
I been labouring in vain to amafs wealth which
at lail is ufelefs ! Let no man hereafter wilh
to be rich, who is already too wife to be flat-
tered !'* '

MB<

N' 100.

THE IDLER.

209

Numb. ico. Saturday, March 15, 1760.
^ ro the IDLER.

Sir, -■^•

THE uncertainty and defeas of Language
have produced very frequent complaints
among the Learned ; yet there flill remaui many
words among us undefined, which are very ne-
ceflary to be rightly underftood, and which pro-
duce veryinifchievous miftakes when they are
erroneoufly interpreted.

I lived in a ftate of celibacy beyond the ufual
time. In the hurry firft of pleafure, and after-
wards of bufinefs, 1 felt no want of a domeftick
companion ; but, becoming weary of labour, I
foon grew more weary of idlenefs, and thought
it reafonable to follow the cuftom of life, and to
feek fome folace of my cares In female tender-
nefs, and fome amufement of my leifure in fe-
male chearfulnefs.

The choice which has been long delayed is
commonly made at lafl with great caution. My
lei'oiution was, to keep my palBons neutral, and
to marry only in compliance with my reafoi. I
drew upon a page in my pocket-book a fchcme
of all female virtues a!\d vices, with the vices
which border upon every virtue, and the virtues
which are allied to everv vice. I confidercd that

wit

^ 'i;,!'

210

THE IDLER.

wit was farcaftick, and magnanimity imperious ;
that avarice was oeconomical, and ignorance ob-
fequious ; and having efti mated the good and
evil of every quality, employed my own diligence,
and that of my friends, to find the lady in whom
nature and reafon had reached that happy medio-
crity which :s equally remote from exuberance
and deficiency.

Every woman has her admirers and her cen-
furers, and the expeftations which one raifed
were by another quickly deprefled : yet there
was one in whofe favour almoft all fulFrages
concurred. Mifs Gentle was univerfally al-
lowed to be a good fort of woman. Her for-
tune was not large, but fo prudently managed,
that Ihe wore finer cloaths and faw more com-
pany than many who were known to be twice
as rich. Mifs Gentle* s vifits were every where
welcome; and, whatever family ftie favoured with
her company, Ihe always left behind her fuch a
degree of kindnefs as recommended her to
others ; every day extended her acquaintance,
and all who knew her declared that they never
met with a better fort of woman.

To Mifs Gentle I made my addrefles, and was
received with great equality of temper. She did
not in the days of courtfhip aflume the privilege
of impofing rigorous commands, or refenting
flight offences. If I forgot any of her injundtions,
I was gently reminded ; if I miffed the minute
of appointment, I was eafiiy forgiven, i forefaw

nothing

• i,

* ■ I

W 100.

THE IDLER.

2X1

nothing in marriage but a halcyon calm, and
longed for the happinefs which was to be found
in the infeparable fociety of a good fort of wo-
man.

The jointure was foon fettled by the inter-
vention of friends, and the day came in which
Mifs Gentle was made mine for ever. The firft
month was pafled eafily enough in receiving and
repaying the civilities of our friends. The bride
pradlifed with great exaanefs all the niceties of
ceremony, and diftributed her notice in the moft
punftilious proportions to the friends who fur-
rounded us with their happy auguries.

But the time foon came when we were left to
ourfelves, and were to receive our pleafures from
each other ; and I then began to perceive that I
was not formed to be much delighted by a good
fort of woman. Her great principle is, that the or-
ders of a family mull not be broken. Every hour
of the day has its emyloyment inviolably appro-
priated, nor will any importunity perfuade her
to walk in the garden at the time which fhe has
devoted to her needlework, or to fit up {lairs in
'that part of the forenoon which Ihc has accuf-
tomed herfelf to fpend in the back parlour. She
allows herfelf to fit half an hour after breakfaO,
and an hour after dinner ; while I am talking or
reading to her, (he keeps her eye upon her
watch, and when the minute of departure comes,
will leave an argument unfinillied, or the in-
trigue

2l2

THE IDLER.

<T0

100.

rl; i

trigue of a play unravelled. She once called me
to fupper when I was watching an ecliple, and
fommoned me at another time to bed when 1
was going to give dire£tions at a fire.

Pier converfation is fo habitually cautious,
that the never talks to me but in general terms,
as to one whom it is dangerous to truft. For
difcriminations of character fhe has no names;
all whom fhe mentions are honeft men and
agreeable women. She fmiles not by fen-
fation, but by pra6tice. Her laughter is never
excited but by a joke, and her notion of a joke
is not very delicate. The repetition of a good
joke does not weaken its efFe£l'; if llie has
laughed once, fhe will laugh again.

She is an enemy to nothing but ill-nature
and pride, but fhe has frequent reafon to lament
that they are fo frequent in the world. All who
are not equally pleafed with the good and bad,
with the elegant and grofs, with the witty and
the dull, all who diftinguifh excellence from
defe£t, fhe conliders as ill-natured ; and fhe con-
demns as proud all who reprefs impertinence or
quell prefumption, or expert refpefl from any
other eminence than that of fortune, to which
file is always willing to pay homage.

There are none whom fhe openly hates ; for if
once fhe fufFers, or believes herfelf to fuffer,
any contempt or infult, fhe never difmifTes it
from her mind, but takes all opportunities to tell

how

N* 100.

THE IDLER.

213

how eafily fhe can forgive. There are none
whom fhe loves much better than others ; for
when any of her acquaintance dechne in the
opinion of the world, flie ahvays fmds it incon-
venient to viiit them ; her affeftion continues
unaltered, but it is impoffible to be intimate
with the whole town.

She daily exercifes her benevolence by pitying
every misfortune that happens to every family
within her circle of notice ; flie is in hourly ter-
rors left one fliould catch cold in the rain, and
another be frighted by the high wind. Her
charity fhe fliews by lamenting that fo many
poor wretches fhould languilh in the ftreets, and
by wondering what the great can think on that
they do fo little good with fuch large eftates.

Her houfe is elegant, and her table dainty,
though fhe has little tafte of elegance, and is
wholly free from vicious luxury ; but fhe com-
forts herfelf that nobody can fay that her
houfe is dirty, or that her difhes are not well
dreft.

This, Mr. Idle^^ I have found by long expe-
rience to be the character of a good fort of wo-
man, which I have fent you for the information
of thofe by whom a good fort of woman and a
good woman miay happen to be ufed as equiva-
lent terms, and who may fufFer by the miftake,
like

Your humble fervant,

NUMB»

•*■ !l

' i i,

214

THE IDLER. N° loi,

KuMB, loi. Saturday, March 22, 1760.

OMAR, the fon of Huffan, had paffed fc-
venty five years in honour and profpe-
nty The favour of three fucceflive CaUfs had
filled his houfe with gold and filver ; and when-
ever he appeared, the benediftions of the people
proclaimed his paflage.

Terreftrial happinefs is of (hort continuance.
The brightnefs of the flame is waftmg its fuel ;
the fragrant flower is pafling away in its own
odours. The vigour of Omar began to fail, the
curls of beauty fell from his head, llrength de-
parted from his hands, and agility from his feet.
He gave back to the Calif the keys of truft and the
feals of fecrecy ; and fought no other pleafure for
the remains of life than the converfe of the wife,
and the gratitude of the good. ^

The powers of his mind were yet unimpaired.
His chamber was filled by vifitants, eager to
catch the diaates of experience, and officious to
pay the tribute of admiration. Caled, the fon of
the viceroy o( Egypt, entered every day early,
and retired late. He was beautiful and eloquent ;
Omar admired his wit, and loved his docility.
Tell me, faid Caled, thou to whofe voice na-
tions have Uftened, and whofe wifdom is known
to the extremities of ^>, tell me how I may
..r.«,M. Qmnr the orudent. The arts by which

N'loi. . THE IDLER. tij

you haye gained power and preferved it, are to
you no longer neceflary or ufeful ; impart to me
the fecret of your conduft, and teach me the
plan upon which your wifdom has built your
fortune.

Young man, faid Omar^ it is of little ufe to
form plans of life. When I took my firft furvey
of the world, in my twentieth year, having con-
iidered the various conditions of mankind, in
the hour of folitude I faid tlius to myfelf, lean-
ing againft a cedar which fpread its branches
over my head j " Seventy years are allowed tp
man ; I have yet fifty remaining : Ten years I
will allot to the attainment of knowledge, and
ten I will pafs in foreign countries ; I (hall b«'
learned, and therefore fhall be honoured ; every
city will fhout at my arrival, and every ftudent
will folicit my friendlhip. Twenty years thus
palTed will ftore my mind with images, which
I (hall be bufy through the reft of my life in
combining and comparing. I (hall revel in in-
exhauftible accumulations of intelle£tual riches;
1 (hall find new pleafures for every moment, and
fhall never more be weary of myfelf. I will,
however, not deviate too far from the beaten
track of life, but will try what can be found in
female delicacy. I will marry a wife beauti-
ful as the Houries, and wife as Zobeide ; with her
I will live twenty years within the fuburbs of
Bogdat^ in every pleafure that wealth can pur-

'jiiill

irl

I *1

M
n

2i6 THfe IDLER. N" loi.

chafe, and fancy can invent. I will then retire to
a rural dwelling, pafs my days in obfcurity and
contcmpLuion, and lie filently down on the bed
of death. Through my life it (hall be my fet-
tled rcfolution, that 1 will never depend upon
the fmilc of Princes ; that I will never ftand ex-
pofed to the artifices of courts ; I will never
pant for publick honours, nor dillurb my quiet
with affairs of fl:ate." Such was my fcheme of
hfe, which I irapreffed indeUbly upon my me-
mory.

The flrft part of my enfuing time was to be
fpent in fearch of knowledge, and I know not
how I was diverted from my delign. I had no
vifible impediments without, nor any ungovern-
able paffions within. I regarded knowledge as
the higheft honour and the moft engaging
pleafure ; yet day ftole upon day, and month
glided after month, till 1 found that feven years
of the firft ten had vanifhed, and left nothing
behind them. I now poflponed my purpofe of
travelling ; for why fhould I go abroad while fo
much remained to be learned at home ? I im-
mured myfelf for four years, and iludied the
laws of the empire. The fame of my fkill
reached the judges ; I was found able to fpeak
upon doubtful queflions, and was commanded
to {land at the footftool of the Califf. I was
heard with attention, I was confulted with con-
6 ^ . fidence,

N^'ioi. THE. IDLER. 217

fidence, and the love of praife fattened on my
heart.

Iftill wifhed to fee diftant countries, liflened'
with rapture to the relations of travellers, and
lefolved foiTie time to alk my difmiflion, that 1
might feall my foul with novelty ; but my prc-
fence was always neceflary, and the ftrcam of
btifniefs hurried me along. Sometimes I was
afraid left I fliould be charged with ingratitude;
but I ftill propofcd to travel, and therefore would
not confine myfelf by marriage.

In my fiftieth year I began to fufpea that the
time of travelling was paft, and thought it beft
to lay hold on the felicity yet in my power, and
iiidulgc myfelf in domeftick pleafurcs. lint at
iifty no man cafily finds a woman beautiful as
the Houries, and wife as Zobelde, 1 enquired and
rejefted, confulted and deliberated, till the lixtv-
fecond year made me afliamed of gazing upon
girls. I had now nothing left but retirement ;
and for retirement I never found a time, till'
difeafe forced me from publick employment.

Such was my fcheme, and fuch has been its
confequence. With an infatiable thirft for
knowledge, I trifled away the years of improve-
ment j with a reftlefs defire of feeing different
countries, I have always refided in the fame
city ; with the higheft expe^ation of cojinu-
bial felicity, I have lived unmarried ; and with
unalterable refolutions of contemplative retire«

Vol. II, L m^nf.

laummtmumfrnkMummm*

2i8 THE IDLER. N*' loi.

mcnt, I am going to die within the walls of

ffft^

Numb. 102. Saturday, Mar.h 29, 1760.

IT very feldom happens to man that his bufi-
nefs is his pleafure. What is done from
neceflity, is fo often to be done when againft
the prefent inclination, and fo often fills the
mind with anxiety, that an habitual diflike deals
upon us, and we Ihrink involuntarily from the
remembrance of our talk. This is the reafon
why almoft every one wilhes to quit his employ-
ment ; he does not like another Hate, but is

difgufted with his own.

From this unwiUingnefs to 'perform more
than is required of that which is commonly per-
formed with reluaance. it proceeds that few
Authors write their own lives. Statefmen ;
Courtiers, Ladies, Generals, and Seamen have
Civen to th6 world their own ftories, and the
events with which their different ftations have
made them acquainted. They retired to the
clofet as to a place of quiet and amufeme«t, and
pleafed themfelves with writing, becaufe they
could lay down the pen whenever they were

N'^io'i. THfi IDLER.

219

weary. But the Author, however confpicuous,
or however important, cither in the public eye
or in his own, leaves his life to be related by his
fucceflbrs, for he cannot gratify his vanity but
by facrificing his cafe.

It is cqmmonly fuppofed that the uniformity
of a ftudious life afFords no matter for narration :
but the truth is, that of the moft ftudious life a
great part pafTes v^rithout ftudy. An Author
partakes of the common condition of humanity :
he is born and married like another man ; he
has hopes and fears, expeftatlans and difap-
pointments, griefs and joys, and friends and ene-
mies, like a courtier or a ftatcfman ; nor can I
conceive why his affairs fliould not excite cu-
riofity as much as the whifpcr of a drawing-
room, or the faftioiis of a camp.

Nothing detains the Reader's attention more
powerfully than deep involutions ofdiftrefs, or
fudden viciflitudes of fortune ; and thefe mitrht
be abundantly afforded by memoirs of the foris
of literature. They are entangled by contracts
which they know not how to fulfill, and obliged
to write on fubjeds which they do not under -
fland. Every publication is a new period of
time, from which fomeincreafc or declenfion of
fame is to be reckoned. The gradations of a
Hero's life arc from battle to battle, and of an
Author's from book to book.

L 2 Succcfs

i '

jao * THE IDLER. M' 102.

Surccfs and mifcarriagc have the fame cfFcas
in all conditions. The profperous arc feared,
hated, and flattered; and the unfortunate
avoided, pitied, and defplfed. No fooner is a
boc k publifhcd, than the writer may judge of the
opinion of the world. If his acquaintance prefs
round him in public places, or falute him from
the other fide of the ftrcet ; if invitations to
dinner come thick upon him, and thole with
whom he dines keep him to fupper ; if the
ladies turn to him when his coat is plain, and
the footmen ^»ve him with attention and ala-
crity ; he may be fure that his work has been
-praifea by fome leader of literary falhions.

Of declining reputation the fymptoms are not
Icfs eafily obferved. If the Author enters a
roffee-houfe, he has a box to himfelf ; if he calls
at a bookfeller's, the boy turns h.s back ; aiid,
what is the moft fatal of all prognofticks, Au-
thors will vlllt him in a morning, and talk to
bim hour after hour of the malevolence of
criticks, the neglea of merit, the bad tafte of
the age, and the candour of poftenty.

All this, modified and varied by accident and
cuftom, would form very amufing fcciies of
biography, and might recreate many a mind
which is very little delighted with confpiracies
or battles, intrigues of a court or deb^^^^ <;{ ^
a Parliament. To diis might be added ^all tli£
* changes

N" loa.

THE IDLER.

221

changes of the countenance of a patron, traced
ftom the firft glow which flattery raifcs in his
check, through ardour of fondneft, vehemence
of promife, magnificence of praifc, excufe of
delay, and lamentation of inability, to the hft
chill look of final difmifTion, when the one
grows weary of foliciting, and the other of hear-
ing folicitation. * * '

Thus copious are the materials which have
been hitherto fiifTered to lie negleaed, while the
repofitories- of every family that has produced a
foldicrora minifterareranfacked, and libraries are
crowded with ufelefs folios of ftate-papers, which
will never be read, and which contribute no-
tiling to valuable knowledge.

I hope the learned will be taught to know
their own ftrength and their value, and, inftead
of devoting their lives to the honour of thofe
who feldom thank them for their labours, rc-
ib)ve at lad to do juftice to themfelves.

Numb*

i. i.^ wf r mil ■ I It II I ii ii' II ' ammmmmm

222

THE IDLER.

N" 103-

NuMB. 103. Saturday, yfprl^ S* i?^^*

Rf/ficen Ad lon^a juJOit fpal'ta ultima vita, Ju V.

MUCH of the Pain and Pleafure of man-
kind arifes from the conjeftures which
every one makes of the thoughts of others- ; we
"all enjoy praife which we do not hear, and
refent contempt which we da not fee. The Wer
may therefore be forgiven, if he fuffershis Ima-
gination to reprefent to him what his readers
will fay or think when they are informed that
they have now his laft paper in their hands.

Value is more frequently raifed by fcarcity
than by ufe. That which lay neglefted whea
it was common, rifes in eftimation as its quan-
tity becomes Icfs. We feldom learn Uie true
want of what we have, tUl it is difcpvered th«^
we can have no more.

This effay will, perhaps, be read with care
even by thofe who have not yet attended to any
other ; and he that finds this late attention re-
compenfed, will not forbear to wilh that he had
beftowed it fooner.

Though the Mr and his readers have con-
traaed no clofe friendlhip, they are perkaps
both unwilling to part. There are few things
not purely evil, of which we can fay, without
fome emotion of uneafmefs, this is thejaji.

Thoi«

N°io3. THE IDLER. 223

Thofe who never could agree together, Ihed
tears when mutual 4il'content has determined
them to final reparation ; of a place which has
been frequently vifited, though without plcsfure,
the laft look is taken with heayinefs of heart ;
and the Idler ^ with all his chillnefs of tranquil-
lity, is not wholly un^ffeaed by the thought,
that his laft eflay is now before him.

This fecret horror of the laft is infeparable
from a thinking being, whofe Hfe is limited,
and to whom death is dreadful. We always
make a fecret comparifon between a part and the
whole ; the termination of any period of life
reminds us that life itfelf has likewiie its termina-
tion ; when we have done any thing for the laft
time, we involuntarily refleft that a part of the
days allotted us is paft, and that as more is paft
thete is lefs remaining.

It is very happily and kindly provided, that in
every life there are certain paufes and interrup-
tions, which force confiderations upon the
carelefs, and ferioufnefs upo'i the light; points
of time where one courfe of aftion ends, ancj
another begins ; and by viciffitude of fortune,
or alteration of employment, by change of place,
or lofs of friendftiip, we are forced to fay of
fomething, this is the laft.

An even and unvaried tenour of life always
hides fromr our apprehenlion the approach of

L 4 ks

I!'

THE IDLER.

224 1 y^ii' iU l.iL K. JN^ 103^.

its end. Succeffion is not perceived but by
variation ; he that lives to-day as he lived yef-
terday, and expe6ls that as the pvefent day is^
fuch will be the m-orrow, eaiily conceives time
as running in a circle and returning to itfelf.
The uncertainty of our duration is imprefled
commonly by dilTimilitude of condition ; it is
only by finding life changeable that we are re-
minded of its Ihortnefs.

This convi£lion, however forcible at, every
tiew impreflion, is every moment fading froni
the mind ; and partly by the inevitable incur-
fio» of new images, and partly by voluntary
excluiion of unwelcome thoughts, we are aga'uv
expofed to the univerfal fallacy ; and we nmft
do another thing for the laft time, before we
confider that the time is nigh when we (hall db^
MO more.

• As the laft IJIer is publifhcd'in that folemn
week which the Chriftian world has always
fet apart for the examination of the confci-
cnce, the review of life, the extinftion of
earthly defires, and the renovation of holy pur-
pofes ; I hope that my readers are already dif-
pofed to view every incident with ferioufnefs,
and improve it by meditation ; and that, when
they fee this feries of trities brought to a con-
cluiion, they will confider that, by outliving
the liikr^ they have pafled weeks j months, anxl

jears>

N** loj. THE IDLER. 225

years, which are now no longer in their power ;
that an end muft in time be put to every thing
great as to every thing little ; that to life
muft come its laft hour, and to this fyftem ©f
being its laft day, the hour at which probation
ceafes, and repentance will be vain ; the day
in which every work of the hand, and imagina-
tion of the heart, (hall be brought to judge-
ment, and an everlafting futurity Ihall be de-
termined by the paft.

iiiiiii

END OF THE IDLER.

*XXXX*

C *^9 • 3

,S^^%>^^k^^'^^^i>>'^^^'^>'^^^^

EPITAPHS.

THOUGH criticifin has been cultivated in
every age of learning, by men of great
abilities and extenfive knowledge, till the rules
of writing are become rather burthenfome than
inftruftive to the mind ; though almoft every
fpecics of composition has been the fubje£l of
particular treatifes, and given birth to defini-
tions, diflin£lions, precepts, and illuftrations ;
yet no critic of note, that has fallen within
my obfervation, has hitherto thought fepukbral
infcripttons worthy- of a minute examination,, or
pointed out with proper accuracy their beauties
and defeds. • -

The

'.'lit

til

■V

I J

a30 ESSAY ON EPITAPHS.

The reafons of this negleft it is ufelefs to en-
quire, and perhaps impoflible to difcover; it
might be juftly expefted that this kind of writing
would have been the favourite topic of criticifm,
and that felf-love might have produced forae re-
gard for it, in thofe authors that have crowded
libraries with elaborate differtations upon Hcmer ;
lince to afford a fubjeft for heroic poems is the
privilege of very few, but every man may ex-
pert to be recorded in an epitaph, and therefore
finds fome intereftin providing that his memory
may not fuffer by an unlkilful panegyrick.

If our prejudices in favour of antiquity deferve
to have any part in the regulation of our fludies,
Epitaphs feem entitled to more than common
regard, as they are probably of the fame age with
the art of writing. The moft ancient ftruaures
jn the world, the Pyramids, are fuppofed to be
fepulchral monuments, which either pride or
grathude ereaed ; and the fame paffions which
incited men to fuch laborious and expenfive
methods of preferving their own memory, or
that of their benefaftors, would doubtlefs incline
them not to negleft any eafier means by which the
fame ends might be obtained. Nature and Rea-
fon have dilated to every nation, that to pre-
ferve good afti'ons from oblivion, is both the
intereft and duty of mankind : and therefore we
find no people, acquainted witli thcufe of letters,

that

If '

•feSSAY ON EPITAPHS. 431

that o.nittcd to grace the tombs of their heroes
and wife men with panegyrical infcriptions.

To examine, therefore, in what the perfec-
tion of Epitaphs confifts, and what rules are
to be obferved in compofing them, will be at
leaft of as much u'fe as other critical enquiries ;
and for afligning a few hours to fuch difquili-
tions, great examples at leaft, if not ftrong rea-
fons, may be pleaded.

An Epitaph, as the word itfelf implies, is
an infcrlption on the t<imb, and in its moft exten-
five import may admit indifcriminately fatire or
praife. But as malice has feldom produced mo-
numents of defamation, and the tombs hitherto
raifed have been the work of friendfliip and be-
nevolence, cuftom has contrafted the original
latitude of the word, fo that it fignifies, in the
general acceptation, an infcription engraven on a
tomb in honour of the per/on deceafed.

As honours are paid to the dead in order to
incite others to the imitation of their excel-
lences, the principal intention of Epitaphs is
to perpetuate the examples of virtue, that the
tomb of a good man may fupply the want of his
prefence, and veneration for his memory pro-
duce the fame efFe(Sfc as the obfervation of his
life. Thofe Epitaphs are, therefore, the moft
perfect, which fet virtue in the ftrongeft light,
and are beft adapted to exalt the reader's ideas,

and roufe his emulation.

% To

332 ESSAY ON EPITAPHS;,

To this end it is not always neceflary to re-
count the a£lions of a Hero, or enumerate the
writings of a Philofopher ; to imagine fuch in-
formations neceflary, is to detract from their
characters, or to fuppofe their works mortal, or
their atchievements in dangpr of being forgotten.
The bare name of fuch men anfwers every pur-
pofe of a long infcription.

Had only the name of Sir Isaac Newton
been fubjoined to the defign upon his monu-
ment, inftead of a long detail of his difcoveries,
which no Philofopher can want, and which
none but a Philofopher can undcrftand, thofe,
by whofe direftion it was raifed, had done more
honour both to him and to fhemfelvcs.
, This indeed is a commendation which it
^requires no genius to beflow, but which can
never become vulgar or contemptible, if be-
flowed with judgement, becaufe no Ungle age
produces many men of merit fuperior to pane-
gyrick. None but tlie firfl: names can fland
unaflifted againft the attacks of time ; and if
men, raifed to reputation by accident or caprice,
have nothing but their names engraved on their
>tombs, there is danger left in a few years the
infcription require an interpreter. Thus have
their expectations been difappointed who ho»
noured Picus of Mirandula vvitli this pompous
epitaph :

. Hie

M. A

ESSAY ON EPITAPHS. 235

JoANNEsjacet hie Mirandula; cxtera norunt j
Et Tagus, et Ganges ; forlan et Antipodes.

His name, then celebrated iir the rcmoteft corners
of the earth, is now almoft forgotten ; and hi.H
works, then- lludied, admired, and applauded,
are now monldering in obfcurity.

Next in dignity to the bare name is a fhort
charafler fimple and unadorned, without exag-
geration, fuperlatrves, or rhetoric. Such were
the infcriptions in ufe among the R:mans^ iri
which tltc viftories gained by their emperors
were commemorated by a- fingle epithet ; as
Caefar Germanlcus^ Caefar Dac'tcus, GermanUus^
Iilyrkus. Such would be this epitaph, Tsaacus
TsIevvtonus, natures le^lbm invejligatis^ hie qui--
cfdt.

But to far the greateft part of mankind a
longer encomium is neceflury, for the publica*
tion of their virtues, and the preffervation of theif
memories ; and in the compofition of thefe it is
that art is principally required> and precepts
therefore may be ufefuK

In writing Epitaphs, one circumftance Is
to beconfidered, which atfefts no other compo-
fition ; the place, in which they are now com*
monly found, reftrams them to a particular air
of folemnitv, and debars them from the ad-
miffion of all lighter or gayer ornaments. lii
this it is that the ftyle of an Epitaph necef^
fexily differs from that of an Elegy. . Tlfe

cuHoii^

Jill 'I

ill

' ill

234 ESSAY ON EPITAPHS.

cuftom of burying our dead cither in or near
our churches, perhaps originally founded on a
r^ional dcfign of fitting the mind for religious
cxercifes, by la)ing before it the moil affefting
proof of the uncertainty of life, makes it pro-
per to exclude from our Epitaphs all fuch
allufions as arc contrary to the do£lrines for
the propagation of which the churches are ere£lcd,
and to the end for which thofe who perufe the
monuments muft be fuppofcd to come thither.
Nothing is, therefore, more ridiculous than to
copy the Roman infcriptions, which were en^-
graven on ftones by the highway, and compofed
by thofe who generally refle6led on mortality
only to excite in themfelves and others a quicker
relilh of pleafure, and a more luxurious enjoy-
ment of life, and whofe regard for the dead ex-
tended no farther than a wilh that the tarth might
hi light upon them.

All allufions to the Heathen Mythology are
therefore abfurd, and ail regard for the fenfelef'^
remains of a dead man impertinent and fupei-
ftitious. One of the firft diftinftions of the pri-
mitive Chriftians, was their negleft of bellow-
ing garlands on the dead, in which they are
very rationally defended by their Apologift in>
Minutiui. Felix : " We lavilh no flowers nor
•* odours on the dead," fays he, ** becaufe they
«* have no fenfe of fragrance or of beauty.'*
We profefs to reverence the dead, not fpr their

fake,

ESSAY oM EPITAPHS. 235

fake, but for our own. It is therefore always
with indignation or contempt that I read the
epitaph on CowUy^ a man, whofe learning and
poetry were his lowcft merits.

Aurea dum late volitant tua fcripta per orbem
Et fama cternum vivis, divine Poeta,
Hie placidajaceas requie, cudodiat urnam
Cana, Fides, vigilent que perenni Lampade Muiae!
Sit facer ille locus, nee quia temerarius aufit
Sacriiega turbare manu venerabile builum,
Iota£ti maiiennt, maneant per faecula dukes.
CowcEii cincres, ferventque immobile Saxum.

To prav that the aflies of a friend may He
landifturbed, and that tlie Divinities that fa-
voured him in his life may watch for ever
round him to preferve his tomb from violation^
and drive facrilege away, is only rational in him
who believes the foul interefted in. the rcpofe
©fthcbody^ and the powers which he invoke*
for its protection able to preferve it. To cen-
fure fuch expreilions as contrary to religion, or
as remains of Heathen fuperftition, would be too
great a degree of feverity. I condemn them only
as uninilru^iv€ and unafFe£king, as too ludicrous
for reverence or grief, for Chriflianky and a
temple.

That the deligns and decorations of monu-
ments ought likewife to be formed with the
iame regard to the folemnity of the placet cannot

' be

um i

I *
11

236 ESSAY ON EPITAPHS.

be denied : it is an eftablilhed principle, that all
©rnaments owe their beauty to their propriety.
The fame glitter of drefs that adds graces tO'
gaiety and youth, would make age and dignitjP
contemptible. Charon with his boat is far from
heightening the awful grandeur of the univerfal
judgement, though drawn by Angela himfelf;
jior is it eafy to imagine a greater abfurdlty thaiv
that of gracing the walls of a Chrillian temple
with the figure of M^trs leading a hero to battle,
er Cupids fporting round a virgin. The pope,
who- defaced the f^atues of the Deities at the
tomb of Sannazarim, is, in my opinion, more
eafily to be defended, than, he that ereaed
them.

It is for the fame reafon improper to addrefs
the Epitaph to the pafTenger, a cuftom which
an nijudicious veneration for antiquity intio*
duced again at the revival' of letters, and which,
among many others, Pajpratius fuffered to mif-
lead him in his Epitaph upon the heart of
Henry king of France, who was flabbed by
Clement the monk, which yet deferves to be in^
ferted, for th& fake of fhewing how beautiful even
improprieties may become in the hands of a
good writer. , .

Adfla, Viator, et dole regum vices-.
Cor Regis ifto conditur fub marmore,
Qui jura GalHs, jura Sarmatis dedit.
Te6tus Cucullo hunc fuftulit Sicarius.

Abi, Viator, et dole regum vices*-

ft »

ESSAY ON EPITAPHS. 43*^

In the Monkifli ages, however ignorant and
ninpoliflied, the Epitaphs were drawn up
with far greater propriety than can be fhewn in
thofe which naore enlightened times have pro-
duced. '

XDrate pro Anima— ^-miferrimi Peccatoris,

was an addrefs to the laft degree flriking and {o:»
lemn, as it flowed naturally from the religion
then believed, and awakened in the reader fenti-
ments of benevolence for the deceafed, and of
concern for his own happinefs. There was no-
thing trifling or ludicrous, nothing that did not
tend to the nobleft end, the propagation of piety,
and the increafe of devotion.

It may feem very fuperfluous to lay it down a?
the flrfl: rule for writing Epitaphs, that the
name of the deceafed is not to be omitted ; nor
(hould I have thought fuch a precept necefllary,
had not the practice of the greateft: writers fhewn,
that it has not been fuflSciently regarded. In
Hiofl: of the poetical Epitaphs, the names <for
whom they were compofed may be fought to no
purpofe, being only prefixed on the monument.
To expofe the abfurdity of this omiflion, it is
only neceflary to afk how the Epitaphs, which
have outlived the flones on which they were in-
fcribed, would have contributed to the inform-
- •• ation

Ull

! ,'

I, I

:: ).,■

t i.

238 ESSAY ON EPITAPHS.

ation of poftcrity, had they wanted the names
of thofe whom they celebrated.

In drawing the charadler of the deceafed,
there are no rules to be obfcrved which do not
equally rtlate to other compofitions. The praifc
ought not to be general, becaufe the mind is
loft in the extent of any indefinite idea, and
cannot be afFefted with what it cannot compre-
hend. When we hear only of a good ur great
man, we know not in what clafs to place him,
nor have any notion of his charafter, diftinft
from that of a thoufand others ; his example can
have no efFed upon our condu£V, as we have
nothing remarkable or eminent to propofe to
our imitation. The Epitaph, compofed by
Ennius for his own tomb, has both the faults
laft mentioned,

Nemo me decoret lacrumis, nee funera, fletu
Faxit. Cur ? volito vivu* per ora virum.

The reader of this Epitaph receives fcarce
any idea from it ; he neither conceives any ve-
neration for the man to whom it belongs, nor
is inftrufled by what methods this boafted re-
putation is to be obtained.

Though a fepulchral infcription is profefledly
a panegyric, and, therefore, not confined to
hiftorical impartiality, yet it ought always to be
written with regard to trvith. No man ought

ESSAY ON EPITAPHS. 239

to be commended for virtues which he never
poflefled ; but whoever is curious to know his
faults, muft enquire after them in other places ;
the monuments of the dead are not intended to
perpetuate the memory of crimes, but to exhibit
patterns of virtue. On the tomb oi MacenaSf
his luxury is not to be mentioned with his mu-
nificence, nor is the profcription to find a place
on the monument of AuguJIus.

The beft fubjeft for Epitaphs is private vir*
tue ; virtue exerted in the fame circumftances
in which the built of ipankind are placed, and
which, therefore, may aduiit of many imita-
tors. He that has delivered his country from
oppreflion, or freed the world from ignorance
and error, can excite the emulation of a very
fmall number ; but he that has repelled the
temptations of poverty, and difdained to free
himfelf from diftrefs at the expence of his vir-
tue, may animate multitudes, by his example,
to the fame firmnefs of heart and fteadinefs of
refolution.

Of this kind I cannot forbear the mention of
two Greek infcriptions ; one upon a man whofe
writings are well known, the other upon a per-
fon whofe memory is preferved only in her
Epitaph, who both lived in flavery, the moll
calamitous ellate in human life.

Ill r.
ir ' ,1

ii. J

Zvffifun

ZwcrifAn *» «e»» twrn fio»w Tw C^f^etn JbX»»,

Zos IMA, qua fob fuit olim corporc fc r\ a,
Corporc nunc etiam libera faaa fuit.

^« ZosiMA, who in her life could only liave her
'. body cnflaved, now finds her body likcwilc
fet at liberty."

It is impoffible to read this Epitaph witlioirt
being animated to bear the evils of life with
conftancy, and to fupport the dignity cf human
nature under the moft prelfint affliaions, both
by the example of the heroine, whofe grave wc
behold, and the profpea of that ftate in which,
to ufe the language of the infpired wnters,
•' The poor ceafe from their labours, and Uw

«« weary be at reft."- _ ,

The other is upon Epi^etus, the Stoic Ihi-

lofopher.

' Servus Epl^etus, mutilatus corporc vixi,

Pauperieque Irus, curaque prima Dcum.

• •« EpU^etus, who lies here, was a Have and a

cripple, poor as the beggar in the proverb,

• ' and the favourite of Heaven."

In this diflich is comprifed the nobleft pa^
^cgyric, and the moll important i««J^"^^^^^

ESSAY ON EPITAPHS. 241

We may learn from it that virtue is imprafticable
ill no condition, iince EpiSietus could recom-
mend himfelf to the regard of Heaven amidil
the temptations of poverty and flavery ; (lavcry,
which has always been found fo deflruftive to
virtue, that, in many languages, a Have and a
thief are exprcfled by the fame word. And we
may be likewife admonifhed by it, not to lay any
ftrefs on a man's outward circumftanccs, • in
making an ellimatc of his real value, faice Epic-
tetus the beggar, the cripple, and the flave, was
the favourite of Heaven.

Vbi.ir.

A BIS-

J a42 ]

ISSERTATION

ON THE

EPITAPHS' written by POPE;
Originally printed in the V i s i t o r.

EVERY art- is beft taught by example.
Nothing contributes more to the cultiva-
tion of propriety than remarks on the worjcs of
thofe who have moft excelled. I Ihall therefore
endeavour at this vifit to entertain the young
fludents in poetry with an examination of Pope s

Ealtaphs.

To define an epUaph is ufelefs ; every one
knows that it is an infcription on a tomb. An
epitaph, therefore, implies no particular cha-
rafter of writing, but may be compofed m
verfe or pvofe. It is indeed commonly pane-
evrical, becaufe we are feldom dift.ngtnlhed
with a ftone but by our friends ; but it has no
rule to leftrain or modify it, except this, that it

•** OUffllt

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 243
tJught not to be longer than common beholders
jliay be expected to have leifure and patience t©
perufe.

"On Charles Earl «/ Dorset, in the Church if
Wythyham in Suflex.

Don SET, the grace of courts, the Mufe*s
pride,
Patron of arts, and judge of nature, dy'd ;
The fcourge of pride, tho* fandify'd or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in flate j
Yet foft his nature, tho' fevere his lay,
His anger moral, and his wifdom gay.
Bleft fatyrift ! who touch'd the mean io thie.
As fliow*d, vice had his hate and pity too.
Bleft courtier ! who could king and country pleafe^
Yet facred keep hib fricndfliipsj nnd his eafe.
Bleft peer ! his great forefathers every grace
Refieding, and reflefted on his race ;
Where other Buckhurfts, other Dorfets fliincj
And patriots ftiH, or poets, deck the line.

The firft diftich of this epitaph contains a
kind of information which few would want,
that the man, for whom the tomb was erefted,
died. There are indeed fome qualities worthy
of praife afdribed to the de&d, but none tluit
were likely to exempt him from the lot of man-,
or incline us much to wonder that he Jhould die.
What is meant h^ judge of nature ^ is not cafy to
; Ma , fay.

■If'-

; MM

I.';, 5
It «

:!U

J44 DISSERTATION ON THE
fcv Mature is not the objeft of humaa judge-
Tent for it is vain to judge where wc cannot al-
w If by nature is meant, what is commonly
a ied '2. by the critics, a juft reprefcntafon
of things really exifting, and aa.ons really pcr-
ilJ, nature cannot be P™perJ; oppo fcd o
„rt, nature being, in this fenfe, only the belt
efFeft of art.

Of this couplet, the fccond line is not, what
is intended, an iUuftration of the former. P"^
i„ the Great is indeed vyell enough connefted
with knaves in ftate, though W« is a word
Tather too ludicrous and light ; but the mention
offa'ilifi"' pride will not lead the thoughts to
fjs in Uarnwg, but rather to fome fpec.es of ty-
ranny or oppreffion, fomething more gloomy
and more formidable than foppery.

This is a high compliment, but was not firft
Jowed on !>./.< by f.^. The next verfe .s
extremely beautiful.

Blejl falyrift > —

In this diftich is another line of which P^p*
was not the author. I do not mean to b latne
thefe imitations with much harflinefs ; m long
performances Uwy are fcarcely to be avoided^

Ml *l

E P 1 T A r H S o P P O P E. a45f

and in lliorter they- may be indulged, bccaule
the train of the compofition may naturally in-
volve them, or the fcantinefs of the fubje^l
allow little choice. However, what is borrowed
is not to be eiljoyed as our own ; and it is the
bufinefs of critical juftice to ^ive every bird of
the Mufcs his proper feather.
Bhji courtia ! —

Whether a courtier can properly be corn-
mended for keeping his eafe f acred ^ may, per-
haps, bedifp\]table. To pleafc king and coun-
try, without facrificing friendfhip to any change
of times, was a very uncommon inftance of
prudence or felicity, and defervcd to be kept fe-
parate from fo poor a commendation as care of
this eafe. I wi(h our poets would attend a lit-
tle more accurately to the ufe of the vioiAfacred^
which furely fliould never be applied, in a ferious
compofition, but where fome reference may be
made to a higher Being, or where fome duty
is exafted or implied. A man may keep his
friendfhip /flcrr^, becaufe promifes of friendfhip
are very aweful ties ; but methinks he cannot,
but in a biirlefque fenfe, be faid to keep his eafc
/acred,

Slejlpetr!-^

The bleffing afcribed to the peer has no con-
neaioii with his peerage ; they might happen to

M 3 a^y

;tt

246 DISSERTATION on the
any other man, whofe anceftors were rcmcm.-
>>ered, or whofe poftcrity were likely to be re-
garded.

I know not whether this epitaph be worthy
cither of the writer, or of the man entombed.

On Sir William Trumbal, one of the Pr'in^
cipal Secretaries of State to ^/V;^ William IIU
who, having refigned his place, died in his Rt-^
/;r^»2^«/ fl/ Eafthamfted /'« Berkfliire, 1716.

A pleafing form, a firm, yet cautious mind,
Sincere, iho* prudent ; conftant, yet refign'dj
•Honour unchang'd, a principle profeft,
iMx'd to one ilde, but moderate to the reft :
An hone ft courtier^ yet a patriot too,
juit to his prince, and to his country true;
. liil'd with theienle of age, the fire of youth,
A fcorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth j
A generous faith, from fuperftition free ;
'A love to peace, and hate of tyranny.
Such this man was ; who now, from earth re-

mov'd.
At length enjoys that liberty he lov*d.

In this epitaph, as in many others, there ap-
pears, at the firft view, a fault which I think
fcarcely any beauty can compenfate. The name
is omitted. The end of an epitaph is to convey
fome account of the dead; and to what pur pofe
is any thing told of him whofe name is con-
cealed I

EPITAPHS OP POPE. 247

ccaled ? An epitaph, and a hiftory, of a name-
lefs hero, are equally abfurd, fince the virtues
and qualities, fo recounted in either, are fcattered
at the mercy of fortune, to be appropriated by
guefs. The name, it is true, may be read upon
the ftone ; but what obligation has it to the
poet, whole verfes wander over the earth, and
leave their fubje^l behind them, and who is
forced,, hke an unlkilful painter, to make his
purpofe known by adventitious help ?

This epitaph is wholly without elevation,
and contains nothing ftrikingor particular,;, but
the poet is not to be blamed for the defers of
his fubjeft. He faid perhaps the beft that could
be faid. There are, however, fome defe£ls
which were not made neceflary by the charafter
in which he was employed. There is no oppo-
lition between an homft courtiev and a pJtrh/,
for an hcn^ft courtier cannot but be a patriot.

It was unfuitahle to the nicety required in
fhort compofitions to clofe his verfe with the
word too ; every rhyme fhould be a word of em-
phaiis ; nor can this rule be fafely neglefted,
except where the length of the poem makes
flight inaccuracies excufable, or allows room for
beauties fufficient to over-power the efFc£ls of
petty faults.

At the beginning of the feventh line the
^ox& filled is weak and profaic, having no par-

M 4 ticular

^.i

^4? DISSERTATION om the

ticvilar aUaptatioti to any of the words that
ibilow it.

The thought in the laft line is impertinent,
having no connexion with the foregoing cha-
fa£ter, nor with the condition of the man 6e»
fcribed. Had the epitaph been written on the
poor confpirator * who died lately in prifon af-
ter a confinement of more than forty years, with-
out ari^y crime proved againft him, the fenti-
iiiciit had been }uft and pathctical ; but why
fliould Trurf'bal be congratulated upon his li-
berty, who had never known reftraint \

HI.
Qn the Hc», Simon Harcourt, only Son of thi
Lord Chancellor Harcourt, at tht Church of
Stanton-Harcouit in Oxfordfhire, 1720.

To this f?d flirine, whoe'er thou art, draw near,
Here lies the friend moll lovM, the fon moft dear ; '
Who oe'er knew joy, but friendfliip might divide,
Or gave his father grief but when he dy'd.

How vain is reafon ! eloquence bow weak !
li Pope muft tell what i^nrcowr/ cannot fpeak.
Oh, let thy once-lov*d friend infcribe thy ftone,
And, with a father's forrows, mix his own.

This epitaph is principally remarl<able for the
artful introdudtion of the name, which is in-

* Major Bernardii Sec Gent. Mag^- vol. VI.

p, 5J3i vol.L. p. 125.

ferted

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 249

fcrtcd with a peculiar felicity » to which chance
muft concur with genius, which no man can
hope to attain twice, and which cannot be co-
pied but with fervile imitation.

1 cannot hut wi(h that, of this infcriptlon,
the two laft lines had been oiriitted, as they
lake a'vay from the energy what they do not add
to the fenfc.

IV.

On James Craggs, £/q;
In Weftminflcr- Abbey

JACOBUS CRAGGS

REGI MAGNAE BUITANNIAE A SECRETI9
ET CONSILllS SANCTIORIBUS,
PRINCIPIS PARITER AC POPULI AMOR ET

DELICIAE :
VIXIT TITULIS ET INVIDIA MAJOR,
ANN03 HEU PAUCOS XXXV.
OB. FEB. XVI. MDCCXX.

Statefman, yet friend to truth ' of foul fincere.
In action faithful, and in honour clear !
Who broke no promife, ferv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who loft no friend,
Ennobled by himfclf, by all approv'd,
Prais'd, wept, and honour'd, by the Mufe he lov'd.

The lines on Craggs were not originally in-
tended for an epitaph, and therefore fome fauhs

M 5 arc

250 DISSERTATION on the

arc- to be imputed to the violence with which
ehcy are torn from the poem that firft contained
^em. We may, however, obferve fome de-
feats. There is a redundancy of words in the
firft couplet ; it is fuperfluous to tell of him,
who was ftncere, true, ?Lnd faithful, that he was
in honour clear.

There feems to be an oppofition intended in-
the fourth liiie> which is not very obvious r
where is the wonder, that he gained no title, and
loft no friend,.

It may be proper here to remark the abfur-
dity of joining, in the fame infcription, Latin
and Englijh, or verfe and profe. If either lan-
guage be preferable to the other, let that only be-
ufed } for no reafon can be given why part of
the rnformation Ihould be given in one tongue,
and part in another, on a tomb more than in
any oth«r place, or any other occalion ; and to
tell all that can be conveniently told in verfe,
and then to call-in the help of prole, has always
the appearance of a very artlefs expedient, or of
an attempt unaccomplifhed. Such an epitaph'
refembles the converfation of a foreigner, who
tells part of his meaning by words, and con-
veys part by iigns. '

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 2S«

Intended fir M-. RowE.
In Weftminfter-Abbey.

Thy reliques, Rowe^ to this fair urn we trull:.
And, facred, place by Dryden*s awful duil :
Beneath a rude and namelefs ftone he lies,
To which thy tomb fliall guide enquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle fliade, and endlefs reft i
Bleft in thy genius, in thy love too blefl I'
One grateful woman to thy fame fupplies .
What a whole thanklefs land to liis denies^

Of this infcription* the chief fault is, that it
belongs lefs to Rwe, for whon it was written,
than to Dryden, who was buried near him ; and'
indeed gives very little information concerning;

either^

. The wifh, peace to thy jhnde, is too mythologi-
cal to be admitted into a Chriftian temple ; the
ancient worftiip has infefted almoft all our othe
compofitions, and might therefore be contented'
to fpare our epitaphs. Let fidtion, at lead, ceafe
with life ; and let us be ferious over the g^rave.

On Mrs. Corbet;
who died of a Cancer in hir Breaft,

Here refts a vvoman, good without pretence^.
Bleft with plain reafon, and with fober fenfe;
No conquefts (he, but o'er herlelf defir*d,,
Noarts eflay'd, but not to be adniir'd,.

!2^2 DISSERTATION on the

Paflion and pride were to her foul iinknowu,
Convinc*d that virtue only is our own.
So unaffeded, fo composed a mind,
So firm, yet foft, fo Ihong, yet fo refinM,
Heaven as its pureft gold, by tortures tryM ;
The faint fuftain'd it, but the woman dy*d.

1 have always confidcred this as the moft va-
luable of all Pcpe's epitaphs : the fubjeft of.it is
a chara(5ler not difcriminated by any Ihining or
eminent peculiarities ; yet that which really
makes, though not the fplendor, the felicity of
life, and that which every wife man will chufe
for his final and lafting companion in the lan-
guor of age, in the quiet of privacy, when he
departs weary and difgufted from the oftentati-
ous, the volatile,, and the vain. Of fuch a cha*
ra<5):er, which the dull overlook, and the gay
defpife, it was fit that the value (hould be made
known, and the dignity eftablifhed. Domeflic
virtue, as it is exerted without great occafions,
or confpicuous confequences, in an even un-
noted tenor, required the genius of Pope to dif-
play it in fuch a manner as might attrad re-
gard, and enforce reverence. Who can forbear
to lament that this amiable woman has no name
in the verfes ?

If the particular lines of this infcription be
examined, it will appear lefs faulty than the reft.
There is fcarce one line taken from common
places, unlefs it be that in which otily 'virtue is*

faid

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 253

fald to be our own. 1 once heard a lady of great
beauty aiul elegance ol)j.£l to the fourth line,
that it contained an unnatural and incredible
pancgyrick.. Of this let the ladies judge

On the Monument of the Hon. Robert Dig by
and of his Sifter Mary, itemed by their Father
tha Lord Digky, in the Church of Sherborne in
Dorfclfhire, I'^i']*

Go! fair cxnmpl<e of untainted youth.
Of modeft vvifdom, and pacifick truth :
CcniposM in fufferings, and in joy ferJate,
Good without noifc, without pretenfion great,
Juft of thy wed, in every thought fincerc,
Who knew no wifli but what the world might hear ;
Of foftefl manners, unaffected mind,
Lover of peace, nnd friend of human-kind:
Go, live ! for Heaven*9etern:il year is thine,
Go, und exalt thy mortal to divine.

And thou, bleft maid ! attendant on his doom,
Penfive haft follow'd to the filent tomb,
SteerM the fame courfc to the fame quiet fliore^
Not parted long, and now to part no more !
Go, then, where only blifs fincere is known I
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one !

Yet take thefe tears, mortality's relief;
And till we lliare your joys, forgive our grief:
Thefe little rites, a i>one, a ver(e receive,
'Tis all a father, all a friend can give.

This

^S4 i:)ISSERTATION on the.

This epitaph contaihs of the brother only x
general indifcriminate charadter, and of the lif-
ter tells nothing but that Ihe died. The diffi-
culty in writing epitaphs is to give a particular
and appropriate praife. This, however, is not
always to be performed, whatever be the diH-
gence or ability of the writer ; for the greater
part of mankind have no chara^er at ally have lit-
tle that diftinguilhes them from others equally
good or bad, and therefore nothing can be faid
of them which may not be applied with equal
propriety to a thoufand more, it is indeed no-
great panegyrick, that there is inclofed in this-
tomb one who was born in one year, and died
in another ; yet many ufeful and amiable lives
have been fpent, which yet leave little materials
for any other memorial. Thefe are however not
the proper fubje£ts of poetry ; and whenever
fricndfliip, or any other motive, obliges a popt.
to write oh fuch fubjefts, he muft be forgiven
if he fometimes wanders in generalities, and
utters the fame praifes over different tombs. -

The fcantinefs of human praifes can fcarcely
be made more apparent than by remarking how
often ?opt has, i-n the few epitaphs which he
compofed, found it neceflary to borrow from
himfelf. The fourteen epitaphs whieh he has
written comprife about an hundred and forty
lines, in which there are more repetitions than
will eafily be found in all the reft of his works.
In the eip^ht lines which make the chs^rs'fter of

5 Digb,.

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 25^

D'tgb^, there is fcarce any thought, or wordy
which may not be found in the other epitaphs.

The ninth line, which is far the ftrongeft and?
moft elegant, is borrowed from Drydcn. The'
conclufion is the fame with that on Harcourt,
but is here more elegant and better conneaedr-

VIII.
On Sir Godfrey Kneller^
/« Weftminfter-Abbey. 1723.
Kneller, by heaven, and not a mafler, taught,
Whofe art was nature/ and whofe piaures thought^.
Now for two ages, having fnatch'd from fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whatever was great.
Lies crownM with princes honours, poets lays,
Due to his merit, and brave thirft of praife.

Living, great Nature feared, he might outvie
Her works; and, dying, fears herfelf may die.

Of this epitaph the firft couplet is good, the.
fecond not bad ; the third is deformed with a
broken metaphor, the word crowned not being,
applicable to the honours or the lays ; and the
fourth is entirely borrowed from the epitaph m.
Raphael, but of very harfh conftruaion.

IX.
On General Henry Withers^

• In Weflminfter Abbey, 1729.
Here, Withers, reft! thou braveft, gentlelt
mind,
Thy country's friend, but more of human-kind ;

256 DISSERTATION on the

- O! born to arms ! O ! vvortli in youth approv'd I
O ! ibft humanity, in age bcIovM !
For thee the hardy veteran drops a tenr,
And the gay courtier feels the figh fincere.

Withers, adieu ! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial fpirit, or thy Ibcial love !
Amidil corru[)tion, luxury, and rage,
Still leave fome ancient virtues to our age :
Nor let us lay (thofe English glories gone)
The hid true Briton lies beneath this ftone*

The epitaph oil IFithets affords another in-
flaiice of common-places, though fomewhat
diveilified by mingled qualities, and the pecu-
liarity of a profeiTion.

The fecond couplet is abrupt, general, and
tanpleaiing ; exclamation feldom fucceeds in our
language ; and I think it inay be obferved, that
the particle O, ufed at the beginning of a hn^
tence, always offends.

The third couplet is more happy ; the value
expreffed for him, by different forts of men,
raifes him to efleem ; there is yet fomething of
the common cant of fuperficial fatyrifts, who
fuppofetliar the in(incerity of a courtier deflroys
all his fenfations, and that he is equally a dif-
fernbler to the living and the dead.

At the third couplet 1 (hould wi(h the epi-
taph to clofe, but that 1 fliould be unwilling to
lofe the two next lines, which yet are dearly
bought if they cannot be retained without the
four that follow them,

6 X. On

lEPITAPHS OF POPE. 257

' On Mr, Elijah FentoN,
jft Eafthamfted /« Berkfliirc, 1730*

This modcft ftone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly fay. Here lies an honeft man :
A poet bleft beyond a poet's fate.
Whom Heaven kept facred from the Proud and

Great ;
Foe to loud praife, and friend to learned eafe,"
Content with fcience in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on eidier life, and here <
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From Nature's temper.Ue feaft rofe fatisfy'd,
Thank'd Heaven that he had liv*d, and that he dyM,

The firft couplet of this epitaph is borrowed
from Crafhaw. The four next lines conts(iii a
Ipecies- of praife peculiar, original, and juft.
Here, therefore, the infcriplion ihould have
ended, the latter part containing nothing but
what is common to every man who is wife and
good. The character of Fenton was fo amiable,
that I cannot forbear to wifh for fome poet or
biographer to difplay it more fully for the ad-
vantage of pollerity. If he did not Hand in the
firft rank of genius, he may claim a place in
the fecond ; and, whatever Criticifm may objea
to his writings, Cenfure could find very little to
blame in his life.

XI.

-r ti

iS^> DISSERTATION on tut,

XL
On Afr.G AY. /« Weftminfter-Abbey, ij^^^

Of manners gentle, of affeaions mild j
In tvit, a man; fimplicity, a child j
A\ i»h native humour tempering virtuous rage,.
Form'd to delight at once and ialli the age : i

Above temptation in a low eftate,
And uncorrupted, ev*n among the Great ;
A fafe companion, and an eafy friend,
UnblamM through life, lamented in thy end,
Thefe are thy honours I not that here thy buff
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy duft ;
But that the Worthy and the Good fhall fay,
iStriking their penfive bofoms — Here lies Gat.

As Gay was the favourite of our author, this
epitaph was probably written with an uncom-
mon degree of attention ; yet it is not more fuc-
cefsfuliy executed than the reft ; for it will not
always happen that the fuccefs of a poet is
proportionate to his labour. The fame abferva-
tion may be extended to all works of imagina-
tion which are often influenced by caufes wholly
out of the performer's power, by hints of which
he perceives not the ..rigiii, by fudden eleva-
tions of mind which he cannot produce in him-
felf, and which fometimes rife when he expedls-
theiii ksLik^

The:

EPITAPHS OF POPE ^^ga

The two parts of tlie firft line are only echoes
of each other ; ggnt/e manners aad mild affeSiionij.
if they mean any thing, muft mean the fame.,
. That Gay was a man in wit is a very frigid
commendation ; to have the wit of a man is not
much for a Poet. The wit of many and xhtjim^
plicityof a child, make a poor and vulgar contrail,
and raife no ideas of excellence,, either intellec-
tual or moral.

In the next couplet rage is lefs properly in-
troduced after the mention o{ mildnefs and^«?«-
ilenefs^ which are made the conftituents of his
chara^er ; for a man fo mild and gentls to temper
his. rage, was not difficult.

The next line is unharmonious in its founds
and mean in its conception ; the oppolition isfc
obvious ; and the word lajh, ufed abfolutely, and
without any modification, is grofs and improper.

To be above temptation in poverty, and free
from corruption among the Greats is indeed fuch
a peculiarity as deferved notice. But to be a
fofe companion is praifd merely negative, ariiing
not from the pofleffion of virtue, but the
abfence of vice, and that one of the raoft
odious.. • -

As little can be added to liis character, by
aflerting that he was lamentei in his end. Every
man that dies is, at leaft by tlie writer of his
epitaph, fuppofed to be lamented, and there-
fore this general lamentation does no honour

to Gay..

The;

46o DISSERTaTTON on the

The eight fir ft lines have no grammar, the
adjc(^ives are without any fubftantivc, and the
epithets without a fubjcft.

The thor?'^^ in the laft line, that Gay is
buried in t'l;. Loioms of the worthy and tlie
goitly wJ}o are diftinguiflied only to lengthen
the line, is fo dark that few nnderftand it; and
fo harfli when it is explained, that ilill fewer
approve.

XIT.

Inttndcifor Sir Is a Ac Newton,

In Weftminfter- Abbey.

laAACUS NEWTONIUS:

, Q^^em Irr.mortalem

Teflantur Timpus, Natura, Calum:

Mortalem

Hoc marmor fatetnr.

Nature, and Nature's laws, lay hid in night :
GOD faid, Let Newton be ! And all was light.

Of this epitaph, fhort as it is, the faults
feem not to be very few. Why part fhould be
Latin and part Ettgl'ijh^ it rs not eafy to difcover.
In the l,atin, the opposition of immartahs and
moytalis is a mere found, or a mere quibble ; he
is not immoital in any fenfe contrary to that in
which he is mottal, .

In the verfcs the thought is obvi'ous, and
the words night and light ate too nearly allied.

XIII.

EPITAPHS OF POPE. 261

XIII.

On Edmund Duh 0/ Buckingham, who died in
the i^th Tear oj his Age^ I73S«

If modeft youth, with cool rcfle6lion crown'd,
And every opening virtue blooming round,
Pould fave a parent's jnfteft pride from fate,
Or add orie patriot to a finking ftate ;
This weeping marble had not a&'d thy tear.
Or fadly told, how many hopes lie here :
The living virtue now had flione approv'd,
The fenate heard him, and his country lov'd.
Yet foftcr honours, and lefs noify fame,
Attend thefliade of gentle Buckingham :
In whom a race, for courage fam*d and art,
Ends in the milder merit of the heart ;
And, chiefs or fages long to Britain given.
Pays the laH tribute of a faint to heaven.

This epitaph Mr. IVarburion prefers to the
reft, but I know not for what reafon. To
crown with reJi:Siion is furely a mode of fpeech
approaching to nonfenfe. Opening virtue blooms
ing round, fomething like tautology ; the fix
following lines are poor and profaic. Jrt is
another couplet ufed for arts, that a rhyme may
be had to h art. The fix laft lines are the beft,
but not Acellent.

The reft of his fepulchral performances
\iardly deferve the notice of criticifm. The
' con-

iC6a DISSERTATION, &:c.

contemptible Diabgut between He and She
Hiould have been fuppVefled for the author's fake.
In his laft epitaph on himfelf, in which he
attempts to be jocular upon one of the few
things that make wife men ferious, he con-
founds the living man with the dead :
•' Under this ftonc, or under this fill,
** Or under ihiB turf, &c."
When a man is once buried, the qucfliort
under what he is buried is eafily decided. He
forgot that though he wrote the epitaph in a flatc
of uncertainty, yet it could not be laid over him
till his grave was made. Such is the folly of wit
when it is ill employed.

The world has but little new ; even this
wretchednefs feems to have been borrowed from
the following tunelefs lines :
Ludovici Areofti humanturoflTa
Sub hoc marmore, vel fub hac humo, feu
Sub quicquid voluit benignus haeres
Sive hseredc benignior comes, feu
Opportunius incidens Viator ;
Nani fcire baud potuit futura, fed nee
Tantierat vacuum fibi cadaver
Ut utnam cuperet parare vivtns, .
Vivcns ifta tamen fibi paravit.
Qu* infcribi voluit fuo fepulchro
Olim liquod haberetis fepulchrum.
Surely Ariofto did not venture to expe*^ that
his trifle w©uld have ever had fuch an illuftrious
imitator* ^

T «63 ]

THE

BRAVERY

OF THE

Englifh Common Soldiers,

BY thofe who have compared the mih'tary
genius of the Englljh with that of the
French nation, it is remarked, that the French
officers will alwayt lead, if the foldiers wHlfollou, ;
and that the Etiglijh foldien will always follow ^ if
their officers will lead.

In all pointed fentences, fome degree of ac-
curacy muft be facrificed to concifenefs ; and,
in this comparifon, our officers feem to lofe
what our foldiers gain. 1 know not any reafdn
for fuppofing that the Englijh officers are lefs
willing than the French to lead; but it is, I
think, univerfally allowed, that the Englijl) fol-
diers are more willing to follow. Our nation
may boaft, beyond any other people in the
world, of a kind of epidemick bravery, diffufed

equally

a64 The Bravery of the

equally throT^gh all its ra,>ks. We can (hew a
pialaiury of bc.oes, and m our armies w.th
clowns, whofe courage may ve with that of thc.r

^"•rlwe may be fom* ?'==''""'■= '" ""^'"S '^'^
caufcs of this plebeian mngnanimity. 1 he qua-
lities which commonly make an army fotm.da-
ble, are long habits of regalarity, great exaft-
„efs of difcipline, and great confidence in the
commander. Regularity may, in tiine, produce
a kind of mechanical obedience to fignals and
commands, like that which the perverfe Car/.-
fyn, impute to animals : difciphne may unptcfs
fuch an awe upon the mind, that any danger
fliall be lefs dreaded than the danger of punilh-
nient • and confidence in the wifdom or fortune
o} the'^'neral may induce the foldiers to follow
him blindly to the moft dangerous enterpnze.

What may be done by difciphne and regula-
ritv may be ften in the troops of the RxJJmn
«Lefs and Fruff.n monarch. We find that
S Sy be brokin without coufufion, and re-
pulfed without flight. <• , r „

But the EngUA ^'°°V^ '^^^'^ "°"^ °^ ,
J&tcs in any eminent degree. Regularity ,s
Sno means part of their charaaer : they a e
rZrelv exercifcd, and therefore fhew very little
dexterity in their evolutions as bodies of men,
or inthe manual ufe of their weapons as indivi-
duals ; they neither are thought by others, nor

Enoliih Common Soldiers. 26c
by thcmfelves, more aaive or exaft than their
enemies, and therefore derive none of their
courage from fuch imaginary fuperiority.

The manner in which they are difpcrfcd in
quarters over the country during times of peace,
naturally produces laxity of difciplinc; they are
very little in fight of their officers ; and, when
they are not engaged in the flight duty of the
guard, are fufFered to live every man his own
way.

The equality oi Englljh privileges, the Impar-
tlahty of our laws, the freedom of our tenures,
and the profperity of our trade, difpofe us very
little to reverence of fupcriors. It is not to
any great efteem of the officers that the Engli/h
foldicr is indebted for his fpirit in the hour of
battle ; for perhaps it does not often happen
that he thinks much better of his leader than of
himfelf. The French count, who has lately
publifhed the Art of War, remarks how much
foldiers are animated, when they fee all their
dangers fhared by thofe who were born to be
their matters, and whom they confider as be-
ings of a different rank. The Englijhman dcfpifcs
fuch motives of courage : he was born without
amafter; and looks not on any man, however
dignified by lace or titles, as deriving from na-
ture any claims to his refpeft, or inheriting any
quahties fuperior to his own.

Vol, II. N There

266 The Bravsry of tkb

Tlierc are fomc, perhaps, who would imaghic .
that every Engli/hman fights better than the fub-
jeas of abfolute governments, becaufe he has
raore to defend. But what has the Englijh more
than the French foldier ? Property they are both
commonly without. Liberty is, to the loweft
rank of every nation, little more than the choice
of working or ftarving; and this choice is, I
fuppofe, equally allowed in every country. The
Engll/h foldier feldom has his head very full of the
conf^itution ; nor has there been, for more than
a century, any war that put the property or h-
berty of a fingle iJ^^/Z/^'WAn in danger.

Whence then is the courigc of t\\t Enghjh
vulgar ? It proceeds, in my opinion, from that
diffolution of dependance which obliges every
man to regard his own charaacr. While every
man is fed by his own hands, he has no need of
anv fervile arts : he may always have wages
for his labour ; and is no lefs neceflary to his
employer, than his employer is to him. While
he looks for no proteaion from others, he is
naturally roufed to be his own proteaor ; and,
having nothing to abate his efteem of himfelf,
he confequently afpires to the efteem of others.
Thus every man that crowds our ftreets ,s a
man of honour, difdainful of obligation, impa-
^ent of reproach, and defirous of extending his
reputation among thofe of his own rank ; and
L'courage is iaxnoft frequent ufe, the fa^me o

has

£ N'G LI S H Co M M N St) L D I E R S. 267

•courage is moft eagerly purfued. From this
negled of fubordination, I do not deny that
ibme inconveniences may from time to time
proceed 5 the power of the law does nOt always
fufficiently fupply the want of reverence, or
maintain the proper diflindtion between differ-
ent ranks ; but good and evil will grow up in
this world together ; and they who complain,
in peace, of the infolence of the populace, muft
remember, that their infolence in peace is bra-
very in war.

THE END.

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