Title: The Present State of Wit (1711) - In a Letter to a Friend in the Country
Author: Gay, John, 1685-1732
Language: English
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Series One:

_Essays on Wit_


No. 3


John Gay, _The Present State of Wit_ (1711)


With an Introduction by

Donald F. Bond

and

a Bibliographical Note

and

Excerpts from

_The English Theophrastus: or the Manners of the Age_ (1702)


With an Introduction by

W. Earl Britton


The Augustan Reprint Society

May, 1947

_Price_: 75c



GENERAL EDITORS: _Richard C. Boys_, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor;
_Edward N. Hooker_, _H.T. Swedenberg, Jr._, University of California,
Los Angeles 24, California.

Membership in the Augustan Reprint Society entitles the subscriber to
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Address subscriptions and communications to the Augustan Reprint
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EDITORIAL ADVISORS: _Louis I. Bredvold_, University of Michigan; _James
L. Clifford_, Columbia University; _Benjamin Boyce_, University of
Nebraska; _Cleanth Brooks_, Louisiana State University; _Arthur
Friedman_, University of Chicago; _James R. Sutherland_, Queen Mary
College, University of London; _Emmett L. Avery_, State College of
Washington; _Samuel Monk_, Southwestern University.


Lithoprinted from Author's Typescript

EDWARDS BROTHERS, INC.

_Lithoprinters_

ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN

1947



THE

Present State

OF

WIT,

IN A

LETTER

TO A

Friend in the Country.

_LONDON_ Printed in the Year, MDCCXI

(Price 3 d.)



INTRODUCTION


Gay's concern in his survey of _The Present State of Wit_ is with the
productions of wit which were circulating among the coffee-houses of
1711, specifically the large numbers of periodical essays which were
perhaps the most distinctive kind of "wit" produced in the "four last
years" of Queen Anne's reign. His little pamphlet makes no pretence at
an analysis of true and false wit or a refining of critical distinctions
with regard to wit in its relations to fancy and judgment. Addressed to
"a friend in the country," it surveys in a rapid and engaging manner the
productions of Isaac Bickerstaff and his followers which are engrossing
the interest of London. In other words it is an early example of a
popular eighteenth-century form, of which Goldsmith's more extended
_Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning_ is the best known
instance.

As such it well deserves a place in the Augustan Reprints series on wit.
It has been reproduced before in this century, in _An English Garner:
Critical Essays and Literary Fragments_ (Westminster, 1903, pp. 201-10),
with an attractive and informative introduction by J. Churton Collins.
More information, however, is now at our disposal in the forty year
interval since Collins wrote, both in regard to John Gay and to the
bibliography of periodical literature in Queen Anne's time. Furthermore,
the Arber reprint is difficult to obtain.

Gay is writing, he tells us, without prejudice "either for Whig or
Tory," but the warm praise which he extends to Steele and Addison makes
his pamphlet sound like the criticism of one very close to the Whigs.
Though Gay is ordinarily associated with the Tory circle of Swift and
Pope, he was in 1711 still in the somewhat uncertain position of a
youngster willing to be courted by either group. His earliest
sympathies were if anything on the side of the Whigs, in spite of the
turn of events in the autumn of 1710. Gay's interests in these early
years are nowhere so well analyzed as in the early pages of W.H.
Irving's _John Gay: Favorite of the Wits_ (Durham, N.C., 1940): cf. the
title of the second chapter: "Direction Found--the Year 1713." Even as
late as 1715 Swift apparently thought of him as a Whig (Swift's
_Letters_, ed. Ball, II, 286, cited by Irving, p. 91).

One need not be surprised, then, to find Gay eulogizing Captain Steele
as "the greatest scholar and best casuist of any man in England," an
essayist whose writings "have set all our wits and men of letters on a
new way of thinking." Swift's reaction is well known. "Dr. Freind was
with me," he writes to Stella on May 14th, "and pulled out a two-penny
pamphlet just published, called, _The State of Wit_, giving a character
of all the papers that have come out of late. The author seems to be a
Whig, yet he speaks very highly of a paper called the _Examiner_, and
says the supposed author of it is Dr. Swift. But above all things he
praises the _Tatlers_ and _Spectators_; and I believe Steele and Addison
were privy to the printing of it. Thus is one treated by these impudent
dogs" (_Journal to Stella_, ed. J.K. Moorhead, Everyman's Library, p.
168).

In addition to the _Tatler_ and _Spectator_ Gay discusses a dozen other
periodical publications which are of some interest to-day. Dr. King's
"monthly _Philosophical Transactions_," mentioned in the third
paragraph, had begun as a parody of the Royal Society's publications,
but they had failed to hold the public interest, in spite of the wit of
the author of the _Art of Cookery_: "though that gentleman has a world
of wit..., the town soon grew weary of his writings." King's _Useful
Transactions in Philosophy_ had in fact run to only three numbers in the
early months of 1709. The _Monthly Amusement_ of John Ozell, mentioned
in the following paragraph, which Churton Collins erroneously considered
to be not a periodical but "simply his frequent appearances as a
translator" (p. xxxii)--a statement, repeated by Lewis Melville in his
_Life and Letters of John Gay_ (London, 1921, p. 12)--ran for only six
numbers, from April to September 1709. Gay's statement that it "is still
continued" may refer to the better known _Delights for the Ingenious; or
a Monthly Entertainment for the Curious of Both Sexes_ (edited by John
Tipper) which was currently appearing in 1711.

As to the political papers Gay's observations are moderate in tone.
_Defoe's Review_ (1704-13) and _The Observator_ (1702-12), begun by John
Tutchin, are noticed in rather supercilious fashion. _The Examiner_
(1710-14) is damned with faint praise: though "all men, who speak
without prejudice, allow it to be well written" and "under the eye of
some great persons who sit at the helm of affairs," Gay's admiration is
reserved for its two chief opponents, Addison's short-lived _Whig
Examiner_ (1710) and _The Medley_ (1710-12).

The real hero of the pamphlet, however, is Richard Steele, with his
coadjutor Mr. Addison, "whose works in Latin and English poetry long
since convinced the world, that he was the greatest master in Europe of
those two languages." The high praise which Gay lavishes upon this
pair--comparable in their own field, he says, to Lord Somers and the
Earl of Halifax--is eloquent testimony to the immense interest aroused
by their two papers in the London of 1709-12. There is no need to review
here the particulars of Gay's eulogy, but one or two points may be
noted. In the first place, Gay's remarks are not extravagant when
compared with other contemporary testimony. Many of these tributes were
brought together by Aitken in his monumental biography of Steele, and
since 1889 other contemporary sources have been published which give
corroborating support. Hearne first mentions the _Spectator_ on April
22, 1711, in a comment on No. 43, and even this crusty Tory and Jacobite
notes in his diary: "But Men that are indifferent commend it highly, as
it deserves" (_Remarks and Collections_, ed. Doble, III, Oxford, 1895,
p. 154). The published reports of the Historical Manuscripts Commission,
too, contain many contemporary references (see, e.g., _Manuscripts of
the Hon. Frederick Lindley Wood_ (1913), p. 247; _Manuscripts of the
Marquess of Downshire_, I (1924, 889)). It is interesting to observe,
further, that Gay makes no reference to the political prejudices of the
_Spectator_ though it was not without criticism at the time for its
meddling in politics. _The Plain Dealer_ of May 24, 1712, for example,
objected to the publication of No. 384 (the reprinting of the Bishop of
St. Asaph's Introduction to his _Sermons_) and hinted at a "Mercenary
Consideration" behind this sorry attempt to "propagate ill Principles."
Gay's attitude on this point would, be another reason for Swift's
dislike of the pamphlet.

The "continuations" of the _Tatler_ are given due attention by Gay, as
well as three of its imitators: _The Grouler_ (6 numbers, 1711), _The
Whisperer_ (one number, 1709), and _The Tell Tale_, which may be _The
Tatling Harlot_ (3 numbers, 1709), or, as Churton Collins conjectured,
_The Female Tatler_ (1709-10). Gay's postscript makes an agreeable
reference to _The British Apollo_ (1708-11), which has "of late,
retreated out of this end of the town into the country," where "it still
recommends itself by deciding wagers at cards, and giving good advice to
shopkeepers and their apprentices," an interesting comment in view of
Gay's own possible connection with this journal (cf. Irving, pp. 40-56).
It is these casual remarks, as well as the more extensive critical
comments on the present state of "wit," which give Gay's pamphlet a
permanent interest.

The typescript copy of the _Present State of Wit_ is taken from the
pamphlet owned by the Henry E. Huntington Library.

Donald F. Bond

University of Chicago



THE

PRESENT STATE

of

WIT, &c.


SIR,

You Acquaint me in your last, that you are still so busie Building at
-----, that your Friends must not hope to see you in Town this Year; At
the same time you desire me that you may not be quite at a loss in
Conversation among the Beau Monde next Winter, to send you an account of
the present State of Wit in Town; which, without further Preface, I
shall therefore endeavour to perform, and give you the Histories and
Characters of all our Periodical Papers, whether Monthly, Weekly, or
Diurnal, with the same freedom I used to send you our other Town News.

I shall only premise, that as you know I never cared one Farthing either
for Whig or Tory, So I shall consider our Writers purely as they are
such, without any respect to which Party they may belong.

Dr. King has for some time lain down his MONTHLY PHILOSOPHICAL
TRANSACTIONS, which the Title Page informed us at first, were only to be
continued as they Sold; and tho' that Gentleman has a World of Wit, yet
as it lies in one particular way of Raillery, the Town soon grew weary
of his Writings; tho' I cannot but think, that their Author deserves a
much better Fate, than to Languish out the small remainder of his Life
in the Fleet Prison.

About the same time that the Doctor left off Writing, one Mr. Ozell put
out his MONTHLY AMUSEMENT, (which is still continued) and as it is
generally some French Novel or Play indifferently Translated, is more or
less taken Notice of, as the Original Piece is more or less Agreeable.

As to our Weekly Papers, the Poor REVIEW is quite exhausted, and grown
so very Contemptible, that tho' he has provoked all his Brothers of the
Quill round, none of them will enter into a Controversy with him. This
Fellow, who had excellent Natural Parts, but wanted a small Foundation
of Learning, is a lively instance of those Wits, who, as an Ingenious
Author says, will endure but one Skimming.

The OBSERVATOR was almost in the same Condition, but since our
Party-Struggles have run so high, he is much mended for the better;
which is imputed to the Charitable Assistance of some out-lying Friends.

These Two Authors might, however, have flourish'd some time longer, had
not the Controversie been taken up by much abler Hands.

The EXAMINER is a Paper, which all Men, who speak without Prejudice,
allow to be well Writ. Tho' his Subject will admit of no great Variety,
he is continually placing it on so many different Lights, and
endeavouring to inculcate the same thing by so many Beautiful Changes of
Expressions, that Men, who are concern'd in no Party, may Read him with
Pleasure. His way of assuming the Question in Debate, is extremely
Artful; and his Letter to Crassus, is, I think, a Master-piece. As these
Papers, are suppos'd to have been Writ by several Hands, the Criticks
will tell you, That they can discern a difference in their Stiles and
Beauties, and pretend to observe, that the first EXAMINERS abound
chiefly in Wit, the last in Humour.

Soon after their first appearance, came out a Paper from the other Side,
called the WHIG EXAMINER, writ with so much Fire, and in so excellent a
Stile, as put the Tories in no small pain for their favourite Hero,
every one cry'd Bickerstaff must be the Author, and People were the more
confirm'd in this opinion, upon its being so soon lay'd down; which
seem'd to shew, that it was only writ to bind the EXAMINERS to their
good Behaviour, and was never design'd to be a Weekly Paper. The
EXAMINERS therefore have no one to Combat with at present, but their
Friend the MEDLEY; The Author of which Paper, tho' he seems to be a Man
of good Sense, and expresses, it luckily enough now and then, is, I
think, for the most part, perfectly a Stranger to fine Writing.

I presume I need not tell you that the EXAMINER carries much the more
Sail, as 'tis supposed to be writ by the Direction, and under the Eye of
some Great Persons who sit at the helm of Affairs, and is consequently
look'd on as a sort of publick Notice which way they are steering us.

The reputed Author is Dr. S---t, with the assistance, sometimes, of Dr.
Att---y; and Mr. P---r.

The MEDLEY, is said to be Writ by Mr. Old---n, and supervised by Mr.
Mayn---g, who perhaps might intirely write those few Papers which, are
so much better than the rest.

Before I proceed further in the account of our Weekly Papers, it will be
necessary to inform you, that at the begining of the Winter, to the
infinite surprize of all Men, Mr. Steele flung up His TATLER, and
instead of Isaac Bickerstaff Esq.; Subscrib'd himself Richard Steele to
the last of those Papers, after an handsome Compliment to the Town for
their kind acceptance of his Endeavours to divert them. The Chief
Reason he thought fit to give for his leaving off writing, was, that
having been so long look'd on in all publick Places and Companies as the
Author of those Papers, he found that his most intimate Friends and
Acquaintance were in Pain to Act or Speak before him. The Town was very
far from being satisfied with this Reason; and most People judg'd the
true cause to be, either that he was quite spent, and wanted matter to
continue his undertaking any longer, or that he lay'd it down as a sort
of Submission to, and Composition with the Government for some past
Offences; Or lastly, that he had a Mind to vary his Shape, and appear
again in some new Light.

However that were, his disappearing seem'd to be bewailed as some
general Calamity, every one wanted so agreeable an Amusement, and the
Coffee-houses began to be sensible that the Esquires Lucubrations alone,
had brought them more Customers than all their other News papers put
together.

It must indeed be confess'd, that never Man threw up his Pen under
Stronger Temptations to have imployed it longer: His Reputation was at a
greater height than, I believe, ever any living Author's was before him.
'Tis reasonable to suppose that his Gains were proportionably
considerable; Every one Read him with Pleasure and Good Will, and the
Tories, in respect to his other Good Qualities, had almost forgiven his
unaccountable Imprudence in declaring against them.

Lastly, It was highly improbable that if he threw off a Character, the
Ideas of which were so strongly impress'd in every one's mind, however
finely he might write in any new form, that he should meet with the same
reception.

To give you my own thoughts of this Gentleman's Writings, I shall in the
first place observe, that there is this noble difference between him and
all the rest of our Polite and Gallant Authors: The latter have
endeavour'd to please the Age by falling in with them, and incouraging
them in their fashionable Vices, and false notions of things. It would
have been a jest, sometime since, for a Man to have asserted, that any
thing Witty could be said in praise of a Marry'd State, or that Devotion
and Virtue were any way necessary to the Character of a fine Gentleman.
Bickerstaff ventur'd to tell the Town, that they were a parcel of Fops,
Fools, and vain Cocquets; but in such a manner, as even pleased them,
and made them more than half enclin'd to believe that he spoke Truth.

Instead of complying with the false Sentiments or Vicious tasts of the
Age, either in Morality, Criticism, or Good Breeding, he has boldly
assur'd them, that they were altogether in the wrong, and commanded them
with an Authority, which perfectly well became him, to surrender
themselves to his Arguments, for Vertue and Good Sense.

'Tis incredible to conceive the effect his Writings have had on the
Town; How many Thousand follies they have either quite banish'd, or
given a very great check to; how much Countenance they have added to
Vertue and Religion; how many People they have render'd happy, by
shewing them it was their own fault if they were not so; and lastly, how
intirely they have convinc'd our Fops, and Young Fellows, of the value
and advantages of Learning.

He has indeed rescued it out of the hands of Pedants and Fools, and
discover'd the true method of making it amiable and lovely to all
mankind: In the dress he gives it, 'tis a most welcome guest at
Tea-tables and Assemblies, and is relish'd and caressed by the Merchants
on the Change; accordingly, there is not a Lady at Court, nor a Banker
in Lumbard-Street, who is not verily perswaded, that Captain Steele is
the greatest Scholar, and best Casuist, of any Man in England.

Lastly, His Writings have set all our Wits and Men of Letters upon a new
way of Thinking, of which they had little or no Notion before; and tho'
we cannot yet say that any of them have come up to the Beauties of the
Original, I think we may venture to affirm, that every one of them
Writes and Thinks much more justly than they did some time since.

The vast variety of Subjects which he has treated of in so different
manners, and yet All so perfectly well, made the World believe that
'twas impossible they should all come from the same hand. This set every
one upon guessing who was the Esquires Friend, and most people at first
fancied it must be Dr. Swift; but it is now no longer a Secret, that his
only great and constant assistant was Mr. Addison.

This is that excellent Friend to whom Mr. Steele ow's so much, and who
refuses to have his Name set before those Pieces, which the greatest
Pens in England would be Proud to own. Indeed, they could hardly add to
this Gentleman's Reputation, whose Works in Latin and English Poetry,
long since convinc'd the World, that he was the greatest Master in
Europe of those Two Languages.

I am assur'd from good hands, That all the Visions, and other Tracts in
that way of Writing, with a very great number of the most exquisite
Pieces of Wit and Raillery throughout the Lucubrations, are intirely of
this Gentleman's Composing; which may in some Measure account for that
different Genius, which appears in the Winter Papers from those of the
Summer; at which time, as the EXAMINER often hinted, this Friend of Mr.
Steele's was in Ireland.

Mr. Steele confesses in his last Volume of the TATLERS, that he is
oblig'd to Dr. Swift for his "Town Shower," and the "Description of the
Morn," with some other hints received from him in Private Conversation.

I have also heard, that several of those Letters, which came as from
Unknown Hands, were writ by Mr. Henly; which is an Answer to your Query,
Who those Friends are, whom Mr. Steele speaks of in his last TATLER?

But to proceed with my account of our other Papers: The Expiration of
Bickerstaff's Lucubrations, was attended with much the same Consequences
as the Death of Melibæus's Ox in Virgil; as the latter engendred Swarms
of Bees, the former immediately produc'd whole Swarms of little
Satyrical Scriblers.

One of these Authors, call'd himself The GROWLER, and assur'd us, that
to make amends for Mr. Steele's Silence, he was resolv'd to Growl at us
Weekly, as long as we should think fit to give him any Encouragement.
Another Gentleman, with more Modesty, call'd his Paper The WHISPERER;
and a Third, to Please the Ladies, Christen'd his, The TELL-TALE.

At the same time came out several TATLERS; each of which, with equal
Truth and Wit, assur'd us, That he was the Genuine Isaac Bickerstaff.

It may be observ'd, That when the Esquire laid down his Pen, tho' he
could not but foresee that several Scriblers would soon snatch it up,
which he might, one would think, easily have prevented, he Scorn'd to
take any further Care about it, but left the Field fairly open to any
Worthy Successor. Immediately some of our Wits were for forming
themselves into a Club, headed by one Mr. Barrison, and trying how they
could shoot in this Bow of Ulysses; but soon found that this sort of
Writing, requires so fine and particular a manner of Thinking, with so
exact a Knowledge of the World, as must make them utterly Despair of
Success.

They seem'd indeed at first to think, that what was only the Garnish of
the former TATLERS, was that which recommended them, and not those
Substantial Entertainments which they every where abound in.

According they were continually talking of their Maid, Night-Cap,
Spectacles, and Charles Lillie. However there were now and then some
faint endeavours at Humour and Sparks of Wit, which the Town, for want
of better Entertainment, was content to hunt after, through an heap of
Impertinencies; but even those are at present, become wholly Invisible,
and quite swallow'd up in the Blaze of the SPECTATOR.

You may remember I told you before, that one Cause assign'd for the
laying down the TATLER was, want of Matter; and indeed this was the
prevailing Opinion in Town, when we were Surpriz'd all at once by a
paper called The SPECTATOR, which was promised to be continued every
day, and was writ in so excellent a Stile, with so nice a Judgment, and
such a noble profusion of Wit and Humour, that it was not difficult to
determine it could come from no other hands but those which had penn'd
the Lucubrations.

This immediately alarm'd these Gentlemen, who (as 'tis said Mr. Steele
phrases it) had The Censorship in Commission. They found the new
SPECTATOR come on like a Torrent and swept away all before him; they
despaired ever to equal him in Wit, Humour, or Learning; (which had been
their true and certain way of opposing him) and therefore, rather chose
to fall on the Author, and to call out for help to all Good Christians,
by assuring them again and again, that they were the First, Original,
True, and Undisputed Isaac Bickerstaff.

Mean while The SPECTATOR, whom we regard as our shelter from that Flood
of False Wit and Impertinence which was breaking in upon us, is in every
ones Hand, and a constant Topick for our Morning Conversation at
Tea-Tables, and Coffee-Houses. We had at first indeed no manner of
Notion, how a Diurnal paper could be continu'd in the Spirit and Stile
of our present SPECTATORS; but to our no small Surprize, we find them
still rising upon us, and can only wonder from whence so Prodigious a
Run of Wit and Learning can proceed; since some of our best Judges seem
to think that they have hitherto, in general, out-shone even the
Esquires first TATLERS.

Most People Fancy, from their frequency, that they must be compos'd by a
Society; I, with all, Assign the first places to Mr. Steele and His
Friend.

I have often thought that the Conjunction of those two Great Genius's
(who seem to stand in a Class by themselves, so high above all our other
Wits) resembled that of two famous States-men in a late Reign, whose
Characters are very well expressed in their two Mottoes (viz.) Prodesse
quam conspici, and Otium cum Dignitate. Accordingly the first was
continually at work behind the Curtain, drew up and prepared all those
Schemes and Designs, which the latter Still drove on, and stood out
exposed to the World to receive its Praises or Censures.

Mean time, all our unbyassed well-wishers to Learning, are in hopes,
that the known Temper and Prudence of one of these Gentlemen, will
hinder the other from ever lashing out into Party, and rend'ring that
wit which is at present a Common Good, Odious and Ungrateful to the
better part of the Nation.

If this piece of imprudence do's not spoil so excellent a Paper, I
propose to my self, the highest Satisfaction, in Reading it with you
over a Dish of Tea, every Morning next Winter.

As we have yet had nothing new since the SPECTATOR, it only remains for
me to assure you, that I am

Yours, &c.
J.G.

Westminster,
May 3, 1711.


POSTSCRIPT.

Upon a Review of my Letter, I find I have quite forgot The BRITISH
APOLLO; which might possibly happen, from its having of late Retreated
out of this end of the Town into the City; where I am inform'd however,
That it still recommends its self by deciding Wagers at Cards, and
giving good Advice to Shop-keepers, and their Apprentices.

FINIS.


The / Present State / of / Wit, / in a / Letter / to a / Friend in the
Country. / [double rule] / London / Printed in the Year, MDCCXI./ (Price
3 d.) /

Collation: A-C4. Pp. [1-24] P. [1] half-title, signed "A"; p. [2] blank;
p. [3] title, as above; p. [4] blank; pp. 5-22 text; p. [23] Postscript;
p. [24] blank.

This appears to be the only contemporary edition.

Colton Storm



THE

_English Theophrastus_:

OR, THE

Manners of the Age.


Being the

MODERN CHARACTERS

OF THE

COURT, the TOWN,

and the CITY.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Quicquid agunt Homines, Votum, Timor, Ira, Voluptas, Gaudia, Discursus,
nostri est Farrago, Libelli._

Juven.

--_Quis enim Virtutem amplectitur ipsam?_

Id.

       *       *       *       *       *

_LONDON_,

Printed for _W. Turner_, at _Lincolns-Inn Back-Gate_; _R. Basset_ in
_Fleetstreet_; and _J. Chantry_, without _Temple Bar_, 1702



INTRODUCTION


Abel Boyer, a Huguenot who settled in London in 1689, devoted himself to
language, history, and literature. As a linguist, he tutored Allen
Bathurst and the Duke of Gloucester in French, prepared a textbook for
English students of French, compiled a French and English dictionary,
and endeavored to promote a better understanding between France and
England by translating works of each nation into the language of the
other. As a historian, he recorded the principal events of English
national life from 1688 to 1729. As a literary figure, he wrote a play
that was approved by Dryden and published two collections of characters.

Coming in on the great flood of character books which reached its crest
in the seventeenth century, Boyer's collections were part of the final
surge before the character was taken over by Steele and handed on to the
novelists. The first was _Characters of the Virtues and Vices of the
Age; or, Moral reflections, maxima, and thoughts upon men and manners.
Translated from the most refined French wits ... and extracted from the
most celebrated English writers.... Digested alphabetically under proper
titles_ (1695). The second, resembling the first in design but
considerably enlarged, was published in 1702 under the title _The
English Theophrastus: Or The Manners of the Age. Being the Modern
Characters Of The Court, the Town, and the City_. No author is given on
the title page, but the work is usually ascribed to Boyer because his
name appears beneath the dedication.

That Boyer's purpose in preparing _The English Theophrastus_ was moral
is evident in the preface, where he describes the subject of his book as
the "Grand-Lesson, _deliver'd by the_ Delphian _Oracle_, Know thy Self:
_Which certainly is the most important of a Man's Life_." Distempers of
the mind, he continues, like those of the body, are half cured when well
known. Although philosophers of all ages have agreed in their aim to
expose human imperfections in order to rectify them, their methods have
differed. Those moralists who have inveighed magisterially against man's
vices generally have been "_abandon'd to the ill-bred Teachers of Musty
Morals in Schools, or to the sowr Pulpit-Orators_." Those who, by
"_nipping Strokes of a Side-wind Satyr, have endeavour'd to tickle Men
out of their Follies_," have been welcomed and caressed by the very
people who were most abused. Since self-love waves the application,
satire, unless bluntly direct, can fail as completely as reprehension.

Modern moralists, according to Boyer, have pursued a third course and
cast their observations on men and manners into the entertaining form
employed by Theophrastus, Lucian, Plutarch, and Diogenes Laertius. Among
the moderns, La Rochefoucauld, Saint-Evremond, and La Bruyère are
admired by all judicious readers. From these French writers Boyer has
selected materials for the groundwork of his collection. He has added
passages from Antoninus, Pascal, and Gratian; from the English authors
Bacon, Cowley, L'Estrange, Raleigh, Temple, Dryden, Wycherley, Brown
and others; and from his own pen. They range from a single line to a
passage of several pages. Those of English origin are distinguished by
"_an_ Asterism," his own remarks by inverted commas. Other matter is
unmarked.

Although Boyer has used as his title _The English Theophrastus_,
examination of the sections here reprinted will show that he has
departed from the way of the Greek master. Instead of sharply defined
portraits, Boyer offers maxims, reflections, and manners, after the
French pattern. Gathered from a variety of sources, these observations
are sometimes related to one another only by their common subject
matter, but often they have been altered and rearranged by Boyer for
sharper focus and unity. A few examples will make his method clear.

Of the paragraphs that begin on page eight of the first selection, the
second and fourth are taken from _An Essay in Defence of the Female Sex_
(1696), perhaps the work of Mrs. Judith Drake. The first of these is the
last half of a paragraph from Drake, but minus her concluding figure,
"as Fleas are said to molest those most, who have the tenderest _Skins_,
and the sweetest _Blood_" (p. 78). Into the first line of the second
paragraph from Drake, "Of these the most voluminous Fool is the Fop
Poet," Boyer inserts a reference to Will's. Thereafter, he follows Drake
rather closely, but replaces the final portion of the paragraph with two
or three sentences from other parts of her essay. The Drake material
ends at the paragraph break on page nine. Between these two paragraphs
Boyer places the single statement, "There's somewhat that borders upon
_Madness_ in every exalted _Wit_," which may be his own version of
Dryden's line, "Great Wits are sure to Madness near allied" (_Absalom
and Achitophel_, l. 248). By means of these alterations in his sources,
Boyer has compiled a passage that has focus and direction, and gives
little evidence of its patchwork origin.

In other instances Boyer adheres more closely to the original form of
the material he borrows. The long passage from the middle of page twenty
to the middle of twenty-five is taken from "Des Ouvrages de L'Esprit" of
La Bruyère's _Les Caractères_. Though retaining the sequence of these
observations, he has deleted certain paragraphs. In most cases he has
translated the French faithfully, but here and there he has paraphrased
a passage or added a brief remark of his own. There was little he could
do, of course, with La Rochefoucauld, from whose _Maximes_ all of page
282 and about half of 283 of the second selection are taken. Boyer was
content to translate almost literally these remarks upon wit and
judgment which he collected from widely scattered sections of the
_Maximes_.

Boyer's own contribution to his collection was slight, covering, all
told, little more than fifteen of the 383 pages. Distinguished neither
by originality of conception nor individuality of style, it is,
nevertheless, marked by good sense. A moderate man in his
pronouncements, Boyer was less clever than reasonable.

Boyer's remarks on wit are in keeping with his character. Like many of
his contemporaries, he has something to say on the subject, but uses the
term rather loosely. He would seem, though, to identify wit with genius,
which gives evidence of itself in literary utterance. But judgment is a
necessary concomitant of good wit. Conversely, the would-be wit lacks
genius, expression, and judgment, and therefore turns critic, that he
may denounce in others what is not to be found in himself. Hence the
word critic has come to mean a fault finder rather than a man of sound
judgment.

The following selections are reproduced, with permission, from a copy of
_The English Theophrastus_ in the library of the University of Michigan.

W. Earl Britton

University of Michigan



THE

MANNERS

Of the AGE.


_Authors, Wits, Poets, Criticks,_ Will's _Coffee-House, Play-House,_ &c.


"Eubulus fancying himself Inspir'd, stands up for the Honour of Poetry,
and is mightily provok'd to hear the Sacred Name of _Poet_, turn'd into
Scandal and Ridicule; He tells you what a profound Veneration the
_Athenians_ had for their Dramatick Writers; how greatly _Terence_ and
_Virgil_ were Honour'd in _Rome_; the first, by _Scipio_ and _Lælius_,
the other by _Augustus_ and _Mecænas_; how much _Francis_ the First, and
Cardinal _Richelieu_, encourag'd the Wits of _France_; and drawing his
Argument more home, he relates to you, how in this Island the
_Buckinghams_, the _Orrerys_, the _Roscommons_, the _Normanbys_, the
_Dorsets_, the _Hallifaxs_, and several other Illustrious Persons have
not only encouraged Poetry, but ennobled the Art itself by their
Performances.

"True _Eubulus_; we allow Poetry to be a Divine Art, and the name of
_Poet_ to be _Sacred_ and Honourable, when a _Sophocles_, a _Terence_, a
_Virgil_, a _Corneille_, a _Boileau_, a _Shakespear_, a _Waller_, a
_Dryden_, a _Wycherly_, a _Congreve_, or a _Garth_ bears it: But then we
intend it as a Scandal, when we give it to _Mævius, Chapelain, Ogilby_,
W---- D----, D----, S----, and _your self_.

"I question whether some Poets allow any other Poets to have Perform'd
better, than themselves, in that kind of Poetry which they profess. Sir
_R---- B----_, I suppose, tho' he has declaim'd against Wit, yet is not
so conceited, as to Vie with _Horace_ and _Juvenal_ for _Satyr_; but as
to _Heroick Poetry_, methinks he Reasons thus with himself; _Homer_ has
writ the _Ilias_ and the _Odysseis_, and _Virgil_ only the _Æneid_; I
have writ _Prince Arthur_, and _King Arthur_; am I not then equal to
_Homer_, and Superior to _Virgil_? No, _B----re_, we judge of _Poetry_
as we do of _Metals_, nor by the _Lump_, but the intrinsick Value. New
cast your Poems; purge 'em of their Dross; reduce 'em to the Bulk of the
_Dispensary_, and if then they weigh in the Balance with _that_, we will
allow you a Place among the First-Rate _Heroick Poets_.

"The _Wits_ of mean Descent and scanty Fortune, are generally apt to
reflect on Persons of Quality and Estates, whom they rashly tax with
Dullness and Ignorance, a _Normanby_, a _Dorset_, a _Spencer_, a
_Hallifax_, a _Boyle_, a _Stanhope_, and a _Codrington_, (to pass over
abundance more) are sufficient to convince the World, that either an
Ilustrious Birth, or vast Riches, are not incompatible with _deep
Learning_, and _Sterling-Wit_.

"_Rapin_, St. _Evremont_, and some other _French_ Criticks, do the
_English_ wrong, in the Judgments they pass upon their Plays: The
_English_ Criticks are even with them, for generally they judge as _ill_
of _French_ Poetry.

"There is a great reach of Discernment, a deep Knowledge, and abundance
of Candor requir'd to qualifie a Man for an _equal Judge_ of the Poetry
and ingenious Compositions of two Nations, whose _Tempers,_ _Humours_,
_Manners_, _Customs_, and _Tastes_, are so vastly different as the
_French_ are from the _English_: _Rapin_, St. _Evremont_, and _Rymer_,
are _candid_, _judicious_, and _learned_ Criticks, I own it; but yet
neither the two first are sufficiently acquainted with _England_, nor
the latter with _France_, to enter equally into the Genius of both
Nations; and consequently they cannot pass a just Sentence upon the
Performances of their respective Writers.

"Tis a great piece of Injustice in us, to charge the _French_ with
Fickleness; for, to give them their due, They are ten times more
constant in their Judgments, than we; Their _Cid_ and _Iphigenia_ in
_Aulis_, are Acted at this very day, with as much Applause as they were
thirty Years ago: All _London_ has admir'd the _Mourning Bride_ one
Winter, and endeavoured to find fault with it the next.

"_Philo_ comes _piping hot_ out of the College, and having his Head full
of Poetical Gingles, writes an _Elegy_, a _Panegyrick_ or a _Satyr_ upon
the least frivolous Occasion: This brings him acquainted with all the
_Second-Rate Wits_; One of these introduces him at _Will's_, and having
a Play upon the Stocks, and ready to be Launch'd, he prevails with
_Philo_ to write him a _Song_, a _Dialogue_, a _Prologue_ and
_Epilogue_, in short, the Trimming of his Comedy. By this time, _Philo_
begins to think himself a great Man, and nothing less than the writing
of a Play, can satisfie his towring Ambition; well, the Play is writ,
the Players, upon the Recommendation of those that lick'd it over, like
their Parts to a Fondness, and the _Comedy_, or _Tragedy_, being
supported partly by its real Merit, but most powerfully by a _Toasting_,
or _Kit-cat-Club_, comes off with universal Applause. How _slippery_ is
_Greatness_! _Philo_ puff'd up with his Success, writes a second Play,
scorns to improve it by the Corrections of better Wits, brings it upon
the Stage, without securing a Party to protect it, and has the
Mortification to hear it _Hist_ to death. Pray how many _Philos_ do we
reckon in Town since the Revolution?

"The reason we have had so many _ill Plays_ of late, is this; The
extraordinary _Success_ of the worst Performances encourages every
Pretender to Poetry to Write; Whereas the indifferent Reception some
excellent Pieces have met with, discourages our best Poets from Writing.

"After all, one of the boldest Attempts of Human Wit, is to write a
taking _Comedy_: For, how many different sorts of People, how many
various Palates must a Poet please, to gain a general Applause? He must
have a _Plot_ and _Design_, _Coherence_ and _Unity_ of _Action_, _Time_
and _Place_, for the Criticks, _Polite Language_ for the Boxes,
_Repartee_, _Humor_, and _Double Entendres_ for the Pit; and to the
shame of our Theatres, a mixture of Farce for the Galleries, What Man of
Sense now will venture his Reputation upon these hard Terms.

"The Poet often arrogates to himself the Applause, which we only give
to Mrs. _Barry_ or _Bracegirdle_'s inimitable Performances: But then he
must take as often upon his Account the Hisses, which are only intended
for _Cæsonia_, and _Corinna's abominable Acting_. One makes amends for
'tother.

"Many a pert Coxcomb might have past for a _Wit_, if his Vanity had not
brought him to _Will_'s.

"The same thing that makes a Man appear with Assurance at _Court_;
qualifies him also to appear unconcern'd among Men of Sense at _Will_'s:
I mean _Impertinence_.

"As some People _Write_, so others _talk themselves_ out of their
_Reputation_."

* The name of a _Wit_ is little better than a Slander, since it is
generally given by those that have _none_, to those that have _little_.

"How strangely some words lose their Primitive Sense! By a _Critick_,
was originally understood a _good Judge_; with us now-a-days, it
signifies no more than a _Fault-finder_."

* A _Critick_ in the Modern Acceptation, seldom rises, either in
_Merit_, or _Reputation_; for it argues a mean grov'ling Genius, to be
always finding Fault; whereas, a candid Judge of Things, not only
improves his Parts, but gains every Body's Esteem.

* None keep generally worse Company than your Establish'd _Wits_, for
there are a sort of Coxcombs, that stick continually to them like Burrs,
to make the Town think from their Company, that they are Men of Parts.

* _Criticks_ are useful, that's most certain, so are Executioners and
Informers: But what Man did ever envy the condition of _Jack Ketch_, or
_Jack P----r_.

* How can we love the Man, whose Office is to torture and execute other
Men's Reputation.

* After all, a _Critick_ is the last Refuge of a pretender to _Wit_.

"Tis a great piece of Assurance in a profest _Critick_ to write _Plays_,
for if he does, he must expect to have the whole Club of _Wits_,
scanning his Performances with utmost Severity, and magnifying his
_Slips_ into _prodigious Faults_."

* I don't wonder Men of Quality and Estate resort to _Will_'s, for
really they make the best Figure there; an indifferent thing from 'em,
passes for a Witty Jest, and sets presently the whole Company a
Laughing. Thus we admire the pert Talk of Children, because we expected
nothing from 'em.

"There are many unpertinent _Witlings_ at _Will_'s, that's certain; but
then your Retailers of _Politicks_, or of second-hand Wit at _Tom_'s,
are ten times more intolerable."

* _Wits_ are generally the most dangerous Company a Woman can keep, for
their Vanity makes 'em brag of more Favours than they obtain.

"Some Women care not what becomes of their Honour, so they may secure
the _Reputation_ of their _Wit_.

"Those People generally talk _most_, who have the least to say; go to
_Will_'s, and you'll hardly hear the Great _Wycherley_ speak two
Sentences in a quarter of an Hour, whilst _Blatero_, _Hamilus_,
_Turpinus_; and twenty more egregious Coxcombs, deafen the Company with
their Political _Nonsense_.

"There are at _Will_'s some _Wit-carriers_, whose business is, to
export the fine Things they hear, from one Room to another, next to a
Reciting-Poet; these Fellows are the most exquisite Plague to a Man of
Sense.

"In spight of the intrinsick Merit of _Wit_, we find it seldom brings a
Man into the _Favour_, or even _Company_ of the _Great_, and the _Fair_,
unless it be for a Laugh and away; never thought on, but when present;
nor then neither, for the sake of the Man of _Wit_, but their own
Diversion. The infallible way to ingratiate ones self with Quality, is
that dull and empty Entertainment, called _Gaming_, for _Picket_,
_Ombre_, and _Basset_, keep always Places even for a _quondam Foot-man,_
or a _Drawer_ at the _Assemblies_, _Apartments_, and _Visiting-days_. If
you lose, you oblige with your Money; if you Win, you command with your
Fortune; the _Lord_ is your _Bubble_, and the Lady what you please to
make her."

* _Flattery_ of our _Wit_, has the same Power over Us, which _Flattery_
of _Beauty_ has over a Woman; it keeps up that good Opinion of our
selves which is necessary to beget _Assurance_; and _Assurance_ produces
success both in _Fortune_ and _Love_.

* Some Men take as much Pains to persuade the World that they have
_Wit_, as _Bullies_ do that they have _Courage_, and generally with the
same Success, for they seldom deceive any one but themselves.

* Some _pert Coxcombs_, so violently affect the Reputation of _Wits_,
that not a _French Journal_, _Mercury_, _Farce_, or _Opera_, can escape
their Pillaging: yet the utmost they arrive at, is but a sort of
_Jack-a-lanthorn Wit_, that like the Sun-shine which wanton Boys with
fragments of Looking-glass reflect in Men's Eyes, dazles the
Weak-sighted, and troubles the strong. These are the Muses
_Black-Guard_, that like those of our Camp, tho' they have no share in
the Danger or Honour, yet have the greatest in the Plunder; that
indifferently strip all that lie before 'em, dead or alive, Friends or
Enemies: Whatever they light on, is _Terra incognita_, and they claim
the right of Discoverers, that is, of giving their Names to it.

* I think the _Learned_, and _Unlearned Blockhead_ pretty Equal: For
'tis all one to me, whether a Man talk _Nonsense_, or _Unintelligible
Sense_.

* There is nothing of which we assent to speak with more Humility and
Indifference than our own _Sense_, yet nothing of which we think with
more Partiality and Presumption. There have been some so bold, as to
assume the Title of the _Oracles_ of Reason to themselves, and their own
Writings; and we meet with others daily, that think themselves _Oracles
of Wit_. These are the most vexatious Animals in the World, that think
they have a privileee to torment and plague every Body; but those most
who have the best Reputation for their Wit and Judgment.

* There's somewhat that borders upon _Madness_ in every exalted _Wit_.

* One of the most remarkable Fools that resort to _Will_'s, is the
_Fop-Poet_, who is one that has always more Wit in his Pockets than any
where else, yet seldom or never any of his own there. _Æsop_'s Daw was a
Type of him, for he makes himself fine with the Plunder of all Parties;
He is a smuggler of Wit, and steals _French_ Fancies, without paying the
customary Duties; Verse is his _Manufacture_; for it is more the Labour
of his _Fingers_, than his _Brain_: He spends much time in _writing_,
but ten times more in _reading_ what he has written: He asks your
Opinion, yet for fear you should not jump with him, tells you his own
first: He desires no Favour, yet is disappointed if he is not Flatter'd,
and is always offended at the Truth. He is a _Poetical Haberdasher of
small Wares_, and deals very much in _Novels_, _Madrigals_, _Funeral_
and _Love Odes_, _Panegyricks_, _Elegies_, and other Toys of
_Parnassus_, which he has a Shop so well furnish'd with, that he can fit
you with all sorts in the twinkling of an Eye. He talks much of
_Wycherley_, _Garth_, and _Congreve_, and protests, he can't help having
some Respect for them, because they have so much for him and his
Writings, otherwise he could make it appear that they understand little
of Poetry in comparison of himself, but he forbears 'em meerly out of
Gratitude and Compassion. He is the _Oracle_ of those that want _Wit_,
and the _Plague_ of those that have it; for he haunts their Lodgings,
and is more terrible to them than their Duns.

* _Brutus_ for want of _Wit_, sets up for _Criticism_; yet has so much
ambition to be thought a _Wit_, that he lets his Spleen prevail against
Nature, and turns Poet. In this Capacity he is as just to the World as
in the other injurious. For, as the _Critick_ wrong'd every Body in his
Censure, and snarl'd and grin'd at their Writings, the _Poet_ gives 'em
opportunity to do themselves Justice, to return the Compliment, and
laugh at, or despise his. He takes his _Malice_ for a _Muse_, and thinks
himself _Inspir'd_, when he is only _Possess'd_, and blown up with a
Flatus of _Envy_ and _Vanity_. His Works are _Libels_ upon others, but
_Satyrs_ upon himself; and while they bark at Men of _Sense_, call him
Fool that writ 'em. He has a very great Antipathy to his own Species,
and hates to see a Fool any where but in his Glass; for, as he says,
_they provoke him, and offend his Eyes_. His Fund of Criticism, is a set
of Terms of Art, pick'd out of the _French Criticks_, or their
Translators; and his _Poetical Stock_, is a common Place of certain
_Forms_ and manners of Expression. He writes better in _Verse_ than
_Prose_; for in that there is _Rhime_, in this, neither _Rhime_ nor
_Reason_. He rails both at the _French_ Writers, "whom he does not
understand, and at those _English_ Authors, whose Excellencies he cannot
reach; with him _Voiture_ is flat and dull, _Corneille_ a stranger to
the Passions, _Racine_, Starch'd and Affected, _Moliere_, Jejune, _la
Fontaine_ a poor Teller of Tales; and even the Divine _Boileau_, little
better than a Plagiary. As for the _English_ Poets, he treats almost
with the same Freedom; _Shakespear_ with him has neither Language nor
Manners; _Ben. Johnson_ is a Pedant; _Dryden_ little more than a
tolerable Versifier; _Congreve_ a laborious Writer; _Garth_, an
indifferent imitator of _Boileau_. He traduces _Oldham_, for want of
Breeding and good Manners, without a grain of either, and steals his own
Wit to bespatter him with; but like an ill Chymist, he lets the _Spirit_
fly off in the drawing over and retains only the _Phlegm_. He Censures
_Cowley_ for too much Wit, and corrects him with none. He is a great
Admirer of the incomparable _Milton_, but while he fondly endeavours to
imitate his _Sublime_, he is blown up with _Bombast_ and _puffy
Expressions_. He is a great stickler for _Euripides_, _Sophocles_,
_Horace_, _Virgil_, _Ovid_, and the rest of the Ancients; but his ill
and lame Translations of 'em, ridicule those he would commend. He
ventures to write for the Play-Houses, but having his stol'n,
ill-patch'd fustian Plays Damn'd upon the Stage, he ransacks _Bossu_,
_Rapin_, and _Dacier_, to arraign the ill-taste of the Town. To compleat
himself in the Formalities of _Parnassus_, he falls in Love, and tells
his Mistress in a very pathetick Letter, he is oblig'd to her bright
_Beauty_ for his Poetry; but if this Damsel prove no more indulgent than
his Muse, his Amour is like to conclude but unluckily."

_Demetrius_ before the Curse of Poetry had seiz'd him, was in a pretty
way of _Thriving Business_, but having lately sold his Chambers in one
of the Inns of Court, and taken a Lodging near the Play-house, is now in
a fair way of _Starving_. This Gentleman is frequently possest with
Poetick Raptures; and all the Family complains, that he disturbs 'em at
Midnight, by reciting some incomparable sublime Fustian of his own
Composing. When he is in Bed, one wou'd imagine he might be quiet for
that Night, but 'tis quite otherwise with him; for when a new Thought,
as he calls it, comes into his Head, up he gets, sets it down in
Writing, and so gradually encreases the detested Bulk of his Poetick
Fooleries, which, Heaven avert it! he threatens to Print. _Demetrius_
having had the misfortune of miscarrying upon the Stage, endeavours to
preserve his unlawful Title to Wit, by bringing all the Dramatick Poets
down to his own Level. And wanting Spirit to set up for a Critick, turns
_Spy_ and _Informer_ of _Parnassus_. He frequents _Apollo_'s Court at
_Will_'s, and picks up the freshest Intelligence, what Plays are upon
the Stocks, what ready to be Launch'd; and if he can be inform'd, from
the _Establish'd Wits_, of any remarkable Fault in the new Play upon the
Bills, he is indefatigably industrious in whispering it about, to
bespeak its Damnation before its Representation.

* _Curculio_ is a Semi-Wit, that has a great _Veneration_ for the
_Moderns_, and no less a _Contempt_ for the _Ancients_: But his own ill
Composures destroy the force of his Arguments, and do the Ancients full
Justice. This Gentleman having had the good Fortune to write a very
taking, _undigested medly of Comedy_ and _Farce_, is so puff'd up with
his Success, that nothing will serve him, but he must bring this new
_fantastick way of writing_, into Esteem. To compass this Noble Design,
he tells you what a Coxcomb _Aristotle_ was with his Rules of the _three
Unities_; and what a Company of Senseless Pedants the _Scaligers_,
_Rapins_, _Bossu's_, and _Daciers_ are. He proves that _Aristotle_ and
_Horace_, knew nothing of _Poetry_; that Common Sense and Nature were
not the same in _Athens_, and _Rome_, as they are in _London_; that
_Incoherence_, _Irregularity_ and _Nonsense_ are the Chief Perfections
of the _Drama_, and, by a necessary Consequence that the _Silent woman_,
is below his own Performance.

"_No new Doctrine_ in _Religion_, ever got any considerable Footing
except it was grounded on _Miracles_; Nor any new _Hypothesis_ was ever
established in natural Philolqphy, unless it was confirm'd by
_Experience_. The same Rule holds, in some measure, in all Arts and
Sciences, particularly in Dramatick Poetry. It will be a hard matter for
any Man to trump up any new set of Precepts, in opposition to those of
_Aristotle_ and _Horace_, except by following them, he writes several
approved Plays. The great success of the _first Part_ of the _T---p_ was
sufficient I must confess, to justifie the Authors _Conceit_; But then
the _Explosion_ of the _Second_ ought to have cur'd him of it.

"_Writers_ like _Women_ seldom give one another a good Word; that's
most certain. Now if the _Poets_ and _Criticks_ of all Ages have allowed
_Sophocles_, _Euripides_, and _Terence_ to have been good _Dramatick
Writers_, and _Aristotle_ and _Horace_ to have been _judicious
Criticks_, ought not their _Censure_ to weigh more with Men of Sense,
than the Fancies, of a Modern Pretender. To be plain, whoever Disputes
_Aristotle_ and _Horace_, Rules does as good as call the _Scaligers_,
_Vossii_, _Rapins_, _Bossu's_, _Daciers_, _Corneilles_, _Roscommons_,
_Normanby's_ and _Rymers_, _Blockheads_: A man must have a great deal of
Assurance, to be so free with such illustrious Judges.

"Of all the modern Dramatick Poets the Author of _the Trip to the
Jubilee_ has the least Reason to turn into Ridicule _Aristotle_ and
_Horace_, since 'tis to their _Rules_ which he has, in some measure
followed, that he owed the great success of that Play. Those _Rules_ are
no thing but a strict imitation of Nature, which is still the same in
all Ages and Nations: And because the Characters of _Wildair_,
_Angelica_, _Standard_ and _Smuggler_ are _natural_, and well pursued,
They have justly met _with Applause_; but then the Characters of
_Lurewell_ and _Clincher_ Sen. being _out_ of _Nature_ they have as
justly been condemned by all the Good Judges."

* Some _Scholars_, tho' by their constant Conversation with Antiquity,
they may know perfectly the sense of the Learned dead, and be perfect
masters of the Wisdom, be throughly informed of the State, and nicely
skill'd in the Policies of Ages long since past, yet by their retired
and unactive Life, and their neglect of Business, they are such
strangers to the Domestick Affairs and manners of their own Country and
Times, that they appear like the Ghosts of old _Romans_ rais'd by
Magick. Talk to them of the _Assyrian_ or _Persian_ Monarchies of the
_Grecian_ or _Roman_ Commonwealths, they answer like Oracles; They are
such finished States-men that we should scarce take 'em to have been
less than Privy-Councellors to _Semiramis_, Tutors to _Cyrus_ the Great,
and old Cronies of _Solon_, _Licurgus_, and _Numa Pompilius_. But ingage
them in a discourse that concerns the present Times, and their Native
Country, and they hardly speak the language of it; Ask them how many
Kings there have been in _England_ since the Conquest, or in what Reign
the _Reformation_ happened, and they'll be puzzled with the Question;
They know all the minutest Circumstances of _Catiline's_ Conspiracy, but
are hardly acquainted with the late Plot. They'll tell you the Names of
such _Romans_ as were called to an Account by the Senate for their
_Briberies_, _Extortions_ and _Depredations_, but know nothing of the
four impeached Lords; They talk of the ancient way of Fighting, and
warlike Engines, as if they had been Lieutenant Generals under
_Alexander_, _Scipio_, _Annibal_ or _Julius Cæsar_; but are perfectly
ignorant of the modern military Discipline, Fortification and Artillery;
and of the very names of _Nassau_, _Condé_, _Turenne_, _Luxembourg_,
_Eugene_, _Villeroy_ and _Catinat_. They are excellent Guides, and can
direct you to every Alley, and Turning in old _Rome_ yet lose their way
home in their own Parish. They are mighty Admirers of the Wit and
Eloquence of the Ancients; Yet had they lived in the Time of
_Demosthenes_, and _Cicero_, would have treated them with as much
supercilious Pride, and disrespect as they do now the Moderns. They are
great Hunters of Ancient Manuscripts, and have in great Veneration any
thing that has escaped the Teeth of Time; and if Age has obliterated the
Characters, 'tis the more valuable for not being legible. These
Superstitious bigotted idolaters of time past, are children in their
Understanding all their lives, for they hang so incessantly upon the
leading-strings of Authority, that their Judgments like the Limbs of
some _Indian_ Penitents, become altogether crampt and motionless for
want of use. In fine, they think it a disparagement of their Learning to
talk what other Men understand, and will scarce believe that two and two
make four, under a Demonstration from _Euclid_, or a _Quotation from
Aristotle_.

The World shall allow a Man to be a wise Man, a good Naturalist, a good
Mathematician, Politician or Poet, but not a _Scholar_, or Learned Man,
unless he be a Philologer and understands Greek and Latin. But for my
part I take these Gentlemen have just inverted the life of the Term, and
given that to the Knowledge of Words, which belongs more properly to
Things. I take Nature to be the Book of Universal Learning, which he
that reads best in all or any of its Parts, is the greatest Scholar, the
most Learned Man; and 'tis as ridiculous for a Man to count himself more
learned than another, if he have no greater Extent of Knowledge of
things, because he is more vers'd in Languages, as it would be for an
old fellow to tell a young One, his own Eyes were better than the
other's because he reads with spectacles, the other without.

* _Impertinence_ is a Failing that has its Root in Nature, but is not
worth laughing at, till it has received the finishing strokes of _Art_.
A man thro' natural Defects may do abundance of incoherent foolish
Actions, yet deserves compassion and Advice rather than derision. But to
see Men spending their Fortunes, as well as lives, in a Course of
regular Folly, and with an industrious as well as expensive idleness
running thro' tedious systems of impertinence, would have split the
sides of _Heraclitus_, had it been his Fortune to have been a Spectator.
It's very easie to decide which of these impertinents is the most
signal: the Virtuoso is manifestly without a Competitor. For our follies
are not to be measured by the Degree of Ignorance that appears in 'em,
but by the study, labour and expence they cost us to finish and compleat
'em.

So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our
Extravagancies, the greater is the Folly of 'em. Upon this score it is
that the last mentioned deservedly claim the Preference to all others.
They have improved so well their Amusements into an Art, that the
credulous and ignorant are induced to believe there is some secret
Vertue, some hidden Mystery in those darling Toys of theirs: when all
their Bustling amounts to no more than a learned impertinence and all
they teach men is but a specious method of throwing away both Time and
Money.

"The _Illusions_ of _Poetry_ are fatal to none but the _Poets_
themselves: _Sidonius_ having lately miscarried upon the Stage, gathers
fresh Courage and is now big with the Hopes of a Play, writ by an
ancient celebrated Author, new-vampt and furbisht up after the laudable
Custom of our modern Witlings. He reckons how much he shall get by his
third day, nay, by his sixth; how much by the Printing, how much by the
Dedication, and by a modest Computation concludes the whole sum, will
amount to two hundred Pounds, which are to be distributed among his
trusty Duns. But mark the fallacy of _Vanity_ and _Self-conceit_: The
Play is acted, and casts the Audience into such a Lethargy, that They
are fain to damn it with _Yawning_, being in a manner deprived of the
Use of their _hissing_ Faculty. Well says, _Sidonius_, (after having
recover'd from a profound Consternation) _Now must the important Person
stand upon his own Leggs_. Right, _Sidonius_, but when do you come on
again, that _Covent-Garden_ Doctors may prescribe your Play instead of
Opium?

"The Town is not one jot more diverted by the Division of the
Play-houses: the _Players_ perform better 'tis true? but then the
_Poets_ write worse; Will the uniting of _Drury-Lane_ and
_Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_ mend Matters? No,--for then What the Town should
get in writing, they would lose it in Acting."

* A _Dramatick Poet_ has as hard a Task on't to manage, as a _passive
obedience Divine_ that preaches before the Commons on the 30th. of
_January_.

To please the _Pit_ and _Galleries_ he must take care to lard the
Dialogue with store of luscious stuff, which the righteous call Baudy;
to please the new Reformers he must have none, otherwise gruff _Jeremy_
will Lash him in a third _View_.

* I very much Question, after all, whether _Collier_ would have been at
the Pains to lash the immoralities of the stage, if the Dramatick Poets
had not been guilty of the _abominable Sin_ of making familiar now and
then with the Backslidings of the Cassock.

* _The Griping Usurer_, whose daily labour and nightly Care and Study
is to oppress the Poor, or over-reach his Neighbour, to betray the
Trusts his Hypocrisy procured; in short to break all the Positive Laws
of Morality, crys out, Oh! Diabolical, at a poor harmless _Double
Entendre_ in a Play.

"'Tis preposterous to pretend to reform the _Stage_ before the Nation,
and particularly the Town, is _reform'd_. The Business of a Dramatick
Poet is to _copy Nature_, and represent things as they are; Let our
Peers give over _whoring_ and _drinking_; the Citizens, _Cheating_; the
Clergy, their _Quarrels, Covetousness and Ambition_; the Lawyers, their
_ambi-dextrous dealings_; and the Women _intriguing_, and the stage will
reform of Course.

"Formerly _Poets_ made _Players_, but now adays 'tis generally the
_Player_ that makes the _Poet_. How many Plays would have expired the
very first Night of their appearing upon the Stage, but for _Betterton_,
_Barry_, _Bracegirdle_, or _Wilks_'s inimitable Performance.

"Who ever goes about to expose the Follies of others upon the Stage,
runs great hazard of exposing himself first; and of being made
Ridiculous to those very People he endeavours to make so.

"I doubt whether a Man of Sense would ever give himself the trouble of
writing for the Stage, if he had before his Eyes the fatigue of
Rehearsals, the Pangs and Agonies of the first day his Play is Acted,
the Disappointments of the third, and the Scandal of a Damn'd Poet.

"The reason why in _Shakespear_ and _Ben. Johnson_'s Time Plays had so
good Success, and that we see now so many of 'em miscarry, is because
then the Poets _wrote better_ than the Audience _Judg'd_; whereas
now-a-days the _Audience_ judge _better than the Poets write_."

* He that pretends to confine a Damsel of the Theatre to his own Use,
who by her Character is a Person of an extended Qualification, acts as
unrighteous, at least as unnatural, a Part, as he that would Debauch a
Nun. But after all, such a Spark rather consults his _Vanity_, than his
_Love_, and would be thought to ingross what all the young Coxcombs of
the Town admire and covet.

"Is it not a kind of Prodigy, that in this wicked and censorious Age,
the shining _Daphne_ should preserve her Reputation in a Play-House?"

The Character of a Player was Infamous amongst the _Romans_, but with
the _Greeks_ Honourable: What is our Opinion? We think of them like the
_Romans_, and live with them like the _Greeks_.

"Nothing so powerfully excites Love in us Men, as the view of those
Limbs of Women's Bodies, which the Establish'd Rules of Modesty bid 'em
keep from our Sight. No wonder then if _Aglaura_, _Cæsonia_, _Floria_,
and in general all the Women on our Stages, are so fond of acting in
Men's Cloaths.

"_Cæsonia_ is Young, I own it: But then _Cæsonia_ has an _African_ Nose,
hollow Eyes, and a _French_ Complexion; so that all the time she acted
in her Sex's Habit, her Conquests never extended further than one of her
Fellow-Players, or a Cast-Poet. Mark the Miracles of Fancy: _Cæsonia_
acts a _Boy_'s Part, and _Tallus_, one of the first _Patricians_, falls
desperately in Love with her, and presents her with two Hundred great
_Sesterces_ (a Gentlewoman's Portion) for a Night's Lodging.

"One would imagine our Matrons should be mighty Jealous of their
Husbands Intriguing with Players: But no, they bear it with a Christian
Patience. How is that possible? Why, they Intrigue themselves, either
with _Roscius_ the Tragedian, _Flagillus_, the Comedian, or _Bathillus_,
the Dancer."

Nothing Surprizes me more, than to see Men Laugh so freely at a Comedy,
and yet account it a silly weakness to Weep at a Tragedy. For is it less
natural for a Man's Heart to relent upon a Scene of Pity, than to be
transported with Joy upon one of Mirth and Humour? Or is it only the
alteration of the Features of one's Face that makes us forbear Crying?
But this alteration is undoubtedly as great in an immoderate Laughter,
as in a most desperate Grief; and good Breeding teaches us to avoid the
one as well as the other, before those for whom we have a Respect. Or is
it painful to us to appear tender-hearted and express grief upon a
Fiction? But without quoting great Wits who account it an equal
Weakness, either to weep or laugh out of Measure, can we expect to be
tickled by a Tragical Adventure? And besides, is not Truth as naturally
represented in that as in a Comical one? Therefore as we do not think it
ridiculous to see a whole Audience laugh at a merry jest or humour
acted to the life, but on the contrary we commend the skill both of the
Poet and the Actor; so the great Violence we use upon our selves to
contain our tears, together with the forc'd a-wry smiles with which we
strive to conceal our Concern, do forcibly evince that the natural
effect of a good _Tragedy_ is to make us all weep by consent, without
any more ado than to pull out our Handkerchiefs to wipe off our Tears.
And if it were once agreed amongst us not to resist those tender
impressions of _Pity_, I dare engage that we would soon be convinc'd
that by frequenting the Play-house we run less danger of being put to
the expence of Tears, than of being almost frozen to death by many a
cold, dull insipid jest.

We must make it our main Business and Study to _think_ and _write well_,
and not labour to submit other People's Palates and Opinions to our own;
which is the greater difficulty of the two.

One should serve his time to learn how to make a _Book_, just as some
men do to learn how to make a watch, for there goes something more than
either Wit or Learning to the setting up for an _Author_. A _Lawyer_ of
this Town was an able, subtle and experienc'd Man in the way of his
Business, and might for ought I know, have come to be _Lord Chief
Justice_, but he has lately miscarried in the Good Opinion of the World,
only by Printing some Essays which are a Master-piece--in _Nonsense_.

It is a more difficult matter to get a Name by a _Perfect Composure_,
than to make an _indifferent_ one valued by that Reputation a Man has
already got in the World.

There are some things which admit of no _mediocrity_; such as _Poetry_,
_Painting_, _Musick and Oratory_--What Torture can be greater than to
hear Doctor F---- declaim a flat Oration with formality and Pomp, or
D---- read his Pyndaricks with all the Emphasis of a _Dull Poet_.

We have not as yet seen any excellent Piece, but what is owing to the
Labour of one single Man: _Homer_, for the purpose, has writ the
_Iliad_; _Virgil_, the _Æneid_; _Livy_ his _Decads_; and the _Roman_
Orator his Orations; but our _modern several Hands_ present us often
with nothing but a _Variety of Errors_.

There is in the Arts and Sciences such a _Point of Perfection_, as there
is one of _Goodness_ or _maturity_ in Fruits; and he that can find and
relish it must be allowed to have a _True Tast_; but on the contrary, he
that neither perceives it, nor likes any thing on this side, or beyond
it, has but a defective Palate. Hence I conclude that there is a bad
_Taste_ and a _good_ one, and that the disputing about _Tastes_ is not
altogether unreasonable.

The Lives of _Heroes_ have enricht _History_ and History in requital has
embellished and heightened the Lives of _Heroes_, so that it is no easie
matter to determine which of the two is more beholden to the other:
either _Historians_, to those who have furnished them with so great and
noble a matter to work upon; or those great Men, to those Writers that
have convey'd their names and Atchievements down to the _Admiration of
after-Ages._

There are many of our _Wits_ that feed for a while upon the _Ancients_,
and the best of our Modern Authors: and when they have _squeez'd_ out
and _extracted_ matter enough to appear in Print and set up for
themselves, most ungratefully abuse them, like children grown strong and
lusty by the good milk they have sucked, who generally beat their
Nurses.

A _Modern_ Author proves both by Reasons and Examples that the
_Ancients_ are inferior to us; and fetches his Arguments from his own
particular Tast, and his Examples from his own _Writings_. He owns, That
the _Ancients_ tho' generally uneven and uncorrect, have yet here and
there some fine Touches, and indeed these are so fine, that the quoting
of them is the only thing that makes his _Criticisms_ worth a Mans
reading 'em.

Some great Men pronounce for the _Ancients_ against the _Moderns_: But
their own Composures are so agreeable to the Taste of Antiquity, and
bear so great a resemblance with the Patterns they have left us, that
they seem to be judges in their own Case and being suspected of
Partiality, are therefore _ceptionable_.

It is the Character of a _Pedant_ to be unwilling either to ask a
Friend's advice about his Work or to alter what he has been made
sensible to be a fault.

We ought to read our Writings to those only, who have Judgment enough to
correct what is amiss, and esteem what deserves to be commended.

An _Author_, ought to receive with an equal Modesty both the Praise and
Censure of other People upon his own Works.

A great facility in submitting to other People's Censure is sometimes as
faulty as a great roughness in rejecting it: for there is no Composure
so every way accomplisht, but what would be pared and clipped to nothing
if a man would follow the advice of every finical scrupulous Critick,
who often would have the best Things left out because forsooth, they are
not agreeable to his dull Palate.

The great Pleasure some People take in _criticizing_ upon the _small
Faults_ of a Book so vitiates their Taste, that it renders them unfit to
be _affected_ with it's _Beauties_.

The same Niceness of Judgment which makes some Men write sence, makes
them very often shy and unwilling to appear in Print.

Among the several _Expressions_ We may use for the same Thought, there
is but an individual one which is good and proper; any other but that is
flat and imperfect, and cannot please an ingenious Man that has a mind
to explain what he thinks: And it is no small wonder to me to consider,
what Pains, even the best of Writers are sometimes at, to seek out that
Expression, which being the most simple and natural, ought consequently
to have presented it self without Study.

'Tis to no great purpose that a Man seeks to make himself admir'd by his
Composures: Blockheads, indeed, may oftentimes admire him but then they
are but Blockheads; and as for _Wits_ they have in themselves the seeds
or hints of all the good and fine things that can possibly be thought of
or said; and therefore they seldom admire any thing, but only approve of
what hits their Palate.

The being a _Critick_ is not so much a Science as a sort of laborious,
and painful Employment, which requires more strength of Body, than
delicacy of Wit, and more assiduity than natural Parts.

As some merit Praise for writing well, so do others for not writing at
all.

That _Author_ who chiefly endeavours to please the Taste of the Age he
lives in, rather consults his private interest, than that of his
_Writings_. We ought always to have perfection in Prospect as the chief
thing we aim at, and that Point once gain'd, we may rest assured that
unbyassed _Posterity_ will do us Justice, which is often deny'd us by
our _Contemporaries_.

'Tis matter of discretion in an Author to be extreamly reserv'd and
modest when he speaks of the Work he is upon, for fear he should raise
the World's Expectation too high: For it is most certain, that our
Opinion of an extraordinary Promise, goes always further than the
Performance, and a Man's Reputation cannot but be much lessen'd by such
a Disparity.

The Name of the _Author_ ought to be the last thing we inquire into,
when we Judge of the merit of an ingenious Composure, but contrary to
this maxim we generally judge of the _Book_ by the _Author_, instead of
judging of the _Author_ by the _Book_.

As we see Women that without the knowledge of Men do sometimes bring
forth inanimate and formless lumps of Flesh, but to cause a natural and
perfect Generation, they are to be husbanded by another kind of seed,
even so it is with Wit which if not applied to some certain study that
may fix and restrain it, runs into a thousand Extravagancies, and is
eternally roving here and there in the inextricable labyrinth of
restless Imagination.

If every one who hears or reads a good Sentence or maxim, would
immediately consider how it does any way touch his own private concern,
he would soon find, that it was not so much a good saying, as a severe
lash to the ordinary Bestiality of his judgment: but Men receive the
Precepts and admonitions of Truth as generally directed to the common
sort and never particularly to themselves, and instead of applying them
to their own manners, do only very ignorantly and unprofitably commit
them to Memory, without suffering themselves to be at all instructed, or
converted by them.

We say of some compositions that they stink of Oil and smell of the
Lamp, by reason of a certain rough harshness that the laborious handling
imprints upon those, where great force has been employed: but besides
this, the solicitude of doing well, and a certain striving and
contending of a mind too far strain'd, and over-bent upon its
undertaking, breaks and hinders it self, like Water that by force of its
own pressing Violence and Abundance cannot find a ready issue through
the neck of a Bottle, or a narrow sluice.

Humour, Temper, Education and a thousand other Circumstances create so
great a difference betwixt the several Palates of Men, and their
Judgments upon ingenious Composures, that nothing can be more chimerical
and foolish in an Author than the Ambition of a general Reputation.

As Plants are suffocated and drown'd with too much nourishment, and
Lamps with too much Oyl, so is the active part of the understanding with
too much study and matter, which being embarass'd and confounded with
the Diversity of things is deprived of the force and power to disingage
it self; and by the Pressure of this weight, it is bow'd, subjected and
rendred of no use.

* Studious and inquisitive Men commonly at forty or fifty at the most,
have fixed and settled their judgments in most Points, and as it were
made their last understanding, supposing they have thought, or read, or
heard what can be said on all sides of things, and after that they grow
positive and impatient of Contradiction, thinking it a disparagement to
them to alter their Judgment.

All Skillful Masters ought to have a care not to let their Works be seen
in _Embryo_, for all beginnings are defective, and the imagination is
always prejudiced. The remembring to have seen a thing imperfect takes
from one the Liberty of thinking it pretty when it is finished.

Many fetch a tedious Compass of Words, without ever coming to the Knot
of the business: they make a thousand turnings and windings, that tire
themselves and others, without ever arriving at the Point of importance.
That proceeds from the Confusion of their Understanding, which cannot
clear it self. They lose Time and Patience in what ought to be let
alone, and then they have no more to bestow upon what they have omitted.

It is the Knack of Men of Wit to find out Evasions; With a touch of
Gallantry they extricate themselves out of the greatest Labyrinth. A
graceful smile will make them avoid the most dangerous Quarrel.


_Mind, Understanding, Wit, Memory, Heart._

The Strength and Weakness of a Man's Mind, are improper Terms, since
they are really nothing else but the _Organs_ of our _Bodies_, being
well or ill dispos'd.

'Tis a great Errour, the making a difference between the _Wit_ and the
_Judgment_: For, in truth, the _Judgment_ is nothing else but the
_Brightness of Wit_, which penetrates into the very bottom of Things,
observes all that ought to be observ'd there, and descries what seem'd
to be imperceptible. From whence we must conclude, That 'tis the
_Extention_ and _Energy_ of this _Light_ of _Wit_, that produces all
those Effects, usually ascrib'd to _Judgment_.

All Men may be allowed to give a good Character of their _Hearts_ (or
_Inclinations_) but no body dares to speak well of his own _Wit_.

_Polite Wit_ consists in nice, curious, and honest _Thoughts_.

The _Gallantry_ of _Wit_ consists in _Flattery_ well couch'd.

It often happens, that some things offer themselves to our _Wit_, which
are naturally finer and better, than is possible for a Man to make them
by the Additions of _Art_ and _Study_.

_Wit_ is always made a _Cully_ to the _Heart_.

Many People are acquainted with their own _Wit_, that are not acquainted
with their own _Heart_.

It is not in the power of _Wit_, to act a long while the _Part_ of the
_Heart_.

A Man of _Wit_ would be sometimes miserably at a loss, but for the
Company of _Fools_.

A Man of _Wit_ may sometimes be a _Coxcomb_; but a Man of _Judgment_
never can.

The different Ways or Methods for compassing a Design, come not so much
from the Quickness and Fertility of an industrious _Wit_, as a
dim-sighted _Understanding_, which makes us pitch upon every fresh
Matter that presents itself to our groping _Fancy_, and does not furnish
us with Judgment sufficient to discern at first sight, which or them is
best for our Purpose.

The _Twang_ of a Man's _Native Country_, sticks by him as much in his
_Mind_ and _Disposition_, as it does in his _Tone_ of _Speaking_.

_Wit_ serves sometimes to make us play the _Fool_ with greater
Confidence.

Shallow _Wits_ are apt to censure everything above their own _Capacity_.

'Tis past the Power of _Imagination_ it self, to invent so many distant
_Contrarieties_, as there are naturally in the _Heart_ of every Man.

No body is so well acquainted with himself, as to know his own _Mind_ at
all times.

Every body complains of his _Memory_, but no body of his _Judgment_.

There is a kind of general _Revolution_, not more visible in the turn it
gives to the Fortunes of the _World_, than it is in the Change of Men's
_Understandings_, and the different Relish or _Wit_.

Men often think to conduct and govern themselves, when all the while
they are led and manag'd; and while their _Understanding_ aims at one
thing, their _Heart_ insensibly draws them into another.

Great _Souls_ are not distinguish'd by having less _Passion_, and more
_Virtue_; but by having nobler and greater Designs than the _Vulgar_.

We allow few Men to be either _Witty_ or Reasonable, besides those who
are of our own Opinion.

We are as much pleas'd to discover another Man's _Mind_, as we are
discontented to have our own found out.

A straight and well-contriv'd _Mind_, finds it easier to yield to a
perverse one, than to direct and manage it.

_Coxcombs_ are never so troublesome, as when they pretend to _Wit_.

A little _Wit_ with _Discretion_, tires less at long-run, than much
_Wit_ without _Judgment_.

Nothing comes amiss to a great _Soul_; and there is as much _Wisdom_ in
bearing other People's _Defects_, as in relishing their good
_Qualities_.

It argues a great heighth of _Judgment_ in a Man, to discover what is in
another's Breast, and to conceal what is in his own.

If Poverty be the Mother of Wickedness, want of _Wit_ must be the
Father.

* A _Mind_ that has no Ballance in it self, turns insolent, or abject,
out of measure, with the various Change of Fortune.

* Our _Memories_ are frail and treacherous; and we think many excellent
things, which for want of making a deep impression, we can never recover
afterwards. In vain we hunt for the stragling _Idea_, and rummage all
the Solitudes and Retirements of our Soul, for a lost Thought, which has
left no Track or Foot-steps behind it: The swift Off-spring of the Mind
is gone; 'tis dead as soon as born; nay, often proves abortive in the
moment it was conceiv'd: The only way therefore to retain our Thoughts,
is to fasten them in Words, and chain them in Writing.

* A Man is never so great a _Dunce_ by _Nature_, but _Love_, _Malice_,
or _Necessity_, will supply him with some _Wit_.

* There is a _Defect_ which is almost unavoidable in great _Inventors_;
it is the Custom of such earnest and powerful Minds, to do wonderful
Things in the beginning; but shortly after, to be over-born by the
Multitude and Weight of their own Thoughts; then to yield and cool by
little and little, and at last grow weary, and even to loath that, upon
which they were at first the most eager. This is the wonted Constitution
of _great Wits_; such tender things are those exalted Actions of the
Mind; and so hard it is for those Imaginations, that can run swift and
mighty Races, to be able to travel a long and constant Journey. The
Effects of this Infirmity have been so remarkable, that we have
certianly lost very many Inventions, after they have been in part
fashion'd, by the meer _Languishing_ and _Negligence_ of their
_Authors_.





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