LETTER III. TO Sir John Edgar.

SINCE I perceive that there is like to be a long Commerce of Paper Civilities between us two, I think we could not do better, for the mak⯑ing the Correſpondence perfectly eaſie to us both, than to continue, as we have begun, to throw off all manner of Ceremony, and to treat each other with that Familiarity, which is ſo becoming our long and old Acquain⯑tance. This is then one branch of the Cartel eſtabliſh'd between us, that thou ſhould'ſt ſeem not to remember that the King has made me a Gentleman, and that I ſhould not fail to forget that he ever made thee a Knight. So that for the future I ſhall be downright What d'ye call with thee; and thou my dear Knight ſhalt be plain Jack Edgar with me. In which branch of the Cartel, thou haſt by much the Advantage of me. For my diminutive Honour was eſta⯑bliſhd by no leſs than two Patents, the one granted by the late Queen, and the other by His [2] preſent Majeſty; whereas thine was conferr'd only by a tranſitory Blow given upon Shoulder-blade; which when ſome jeering malicious Per⯑ſons heard of, they ſaid, they rejoyc'd that Ho⯑nour was got ſo near as within a Foot of thy Pericranium.

But now to enter upon buſineſs; how agreea⯑bly was I ſurpriz'd with that notable Diſtinction in the beginning of thy eleventh Paper, which makes thy Apology for thy going by an Alias. And that is, that when a Man goes by an alias, in order to commit a Robbery, or a Murther, or lye, with his Neighbour's Wife, why that is not ſo well: But when an old Soldier of the Queen takes up a nom-de-guerre, only for the promotion of Virtue; why that is a laudable Action. Now here cannot I forbear for my Life uſing the ſame ex⯑preſſion to you, which was formerly us'd to an⯑other old^* Soldier. Dî voſtram Fidem! Quanti eſt ſapere! Nunquam accedo, Quin abs te abeam Do⯑ctior. For my part, I have all along been weak enough to believe, that to go by an alias is a ma⯑nifeſt Cheat, and that every Impoſtor means In⯑tereſt and not Virtue. But this notable Diſtin⯑ction has almoſt convinced me, that if the writer of a Libel puts but a ſham Name to it, he has a Diſpenſation by that alias to injure, ſlander, and threaten all that is Powerful and Noble in Great Britain. But that if any one pretends to write ev'n a juſt Satire, upon the vileſt Poetaſter or Politicaſter, between Dover and the Orcades without putting any Name at all to it; why the Action is abominable, it cries aloud for the ex⯑tremeſt Vengeance, and deſerves Death without [3] Mercy. But, honeſt Jack Edgar, I have one ſcruple in my Head. Boileau was certainly a Man of true Judgment, of nice Honour and a very juſt and admirable Satiriſt. His Cenſures were always juſt, and ſo were his Praiſes, if you except a very few addreſt to his Great Monarch. Merit and Virtue were always Sacred to him, and Vice and Folly the objects of his Scorn and Hatred. Now when he publiſh'd a Book of Sa⯑tires, which were chiefly levell'd at the Edgars and Ironſides, who flouriſh'd then at Paris, that is, at a number of Coxcombs who dar'd to appear upon Parnaſſus, without any lawful Summons thither, or in plain Engliſh, without either Genius or Judgment, you know very well, Jack Edgar, that he put no name to his Book.

The violence and virulence of the contending Parties in England, have, I am afraid, been one great cauſe, why we have had no juſt Satire in England, ſince the Author of Hudibras publiſh'd his, which ſeems to me, to be a very juſt one on Hypocriſy. But you are not to be told, that the Author of it put no Name to it. We have ſince had Libels which have paſs'd for Satires, as Abſa⯑lom and Achitophel, the Medal, Mac Fleckno, and the Diſpenſary. They are indeed, if you pleaſe, beautiful Libels, but they are every where full of Flattery or Slander, and a juſt Satire admits of neither. In the two firſt, how many were abus'd only for being true to the Religion and Liberties of their Country? And on the other ſide, ſome were extoll'd only for being falſe to both. The attempt to leſſen Shadwell in Mack⯑flecno, is every whit as unworthy of Satire. For Shadwell pretended to no Species of Poetry but the Comick, in which he was certainly very much ſuperiour to Dryden; as the latter acknow⯑ledges [4] by a very fair implication in his Preface to the State of Innocence, which was writ before the Quarrel between them began. The buſineſs of Sir Samuel Garth in his Diſpenſary was to ex⯑poſe much better Physicians than himſelf, for no other reaſon but becauſe they were not of his Opi⯑nion in the affair of the Diſpenſary. Now tho' theſe were Libels, and very injurious, yet the Authors juſtly thought it more creditable to ſuf⯑fer them to be publiſh'd without any Name ra⯑ther than to make uſe of falſe ones.

I am heartily glad, my dear Friend, that I have pleas'd thee ſo, by ſaying that thou haſt done more harm to the Stage, than any hundred Men in all England. For ſay'ſt thou, the World is ſo Wicked, that tis hardly a Diſparagement to be great ev'n in Ill. But I am afraid, honeſt Jack, thou miſtakeſt me. For when I accus'd thee of doing this harm to the Stage, I did not affirm, that thou didſt it altogether through a ſiniſter De⯑ſign, or a wicked Motive of Intereſt; but that there was always a mixture with the other two, of want of Knowledge and Judgment. And tho' it may be reputable in this wicked World to be great in Ill, I believe it will hardly ever be creditable to be great in Folly. I do not ſay, but that there may be a very wiſe Man, who may know nothing of Theatrical matters. But then this Perſon who does not know them, muſt not pretend to know them, nor to dictate to the World in an affair which he does not at all un⯑derſtand. For there is a wiſe and a knowing Ig⯑norance, an Ignorance that reflects upon its ſelf, and reſtrains him who has it from expoſing or hurting himſelf or others, by undertaking things which he does not in the leaſt underſtand.

[5] And now, my dear Friend, thou art for mount⯑ing that War Horſe a-freſh, from which I ſhew'd thee deſcending. Methinks I ſee thee upon him in all thy Accoutrements, thy cock'd Hat, thy broad Sword, thy Shoulder Belt, and thy Jack Boots, and a hugeous merry Figure thou makeſt upon him. But when thou talkeſt of planting thy ſelf behind King William the Third, againſt Lewis the Fourteenth, does not thy Memory fail thee a little? If thou meaneſt planting thy ſelf behind the Coach of King William, I have no⯑thing to ſay againſt that. But I never heard a great deal of thy attendance on him, when he got on Horſe-back. He ſeldom held the Honour of thy Company, to expreſs my ſelf in the quaint Dialect of thy elder Brother of Brentford, either on the Boyne or the Shannon, or the Maeſe, or the Sambre. Thou hadſt that averſion for the effu⯑ſion of Chriſtian Blood, that rather than go into the Field with thy broad Sword, and thy dead doing Hand, to make piteous Slaughter of the Enemy, thou mad'ſt it thy choice to ſtay here at Home, and make wicked Jokes with thy Iriſh Gooſe Quill, upon the Funerals of thy Friends.

But here my dear Friend, thou art in a terri⯑ble fuſs about going to Law. Thou pretend'ſt to be even Mad, that thou art hinder'd from going to Law; the Law is not open to thee; thou haſt not the freedom of the Law. But, Quaere pere⯑grinum vicinia rauca reclamat. For do not we all know that thou art up to the Ears in Law; that thou haſt been up to the Ears in Law theſe twenty Years; and wilt be up to the Ears in Law, if thou ſhouldſt live theſe hundred Years? Can we for⯑bear laughing then, to hear thee cry out, that thou ſhouldſt be the happieſt Man in the World, [6] if thou couldſt but go to Law? Ah, my dear Friend, I could name ſome certain Perſons, who if they were no more reſtrain'd from going to Law than thou art, would be happy indeed. But what is it that hinders thee from going to Law? The Gate of Madam Juſtice, like that of Hell, is open at all Hours. Free ingreſs is denyed to none that have but Money to pay their Entrance; Egreſs, I muſt confeſs, is not altogether To eaſie. What is it then that thou pretendeſt ſhould re⯑ſtrain thee from going to Law? Haſt thou not Money to pay thy Lawyers? Or art thou ſuing ſome unaccountable Debtors, who having Mo⯑ney to ſpare for their Liberalities and their Profu⯑ſions, have that irregular greatneſs of Soul, that they ſcorn to pay a juſt Debt till it comes to Ex⯑ecution; and who inſtead of diſcharging, or ſo much as owning the Obligation they have to thee, pretend to keep thee at Arms length, and bid thee open Defiance? Should that be the Caſe, I believe I can give thee wholſome Advice. Know then, that there is a certain notable Ser⯑jeant at Law, with a hard Name, who, if thou repaireſt to him, will inſtruct thee in an admira⯑ble Method of dealing with ſuch Perſons. But at the ſame time I cannot help acquainting my dear Friend, that he ought to be aſham'd to have the word Law in his Mouth, as long as he pretends to undo an Act of the Legiſlature, by an Act of the Executive Power.

We are come now from Law, by a Whirl of Imagination, to Conjurers and Hoop Petticoats. But why will you go abroad for Intelligence, which you may have at home; or go for Coun⯑ſel to the Deputy, when you may be advis'd by the Principal? For does not every Mortal who reads your Papers, ſay, the Devil in Hell is in [7] you? Beſides, how come you ſo earneſt to get a Patent for the Hoop, which you were ſo eager to demoliſh in your wonderful Specula⯑tions?

But, my dear Friend, thou haſt been pleas'd in this thy eleventh Paper, to return the Title of Pedant, by which I ſaluted thee in one of my former, according to thy uſual Method of giv⯑ing what is thy own, to thoſe who do not in the leaſt deſerve it. Tho' I plainly perceive that thou art not quite ſo proud of this Title, as thou art of that of Knight; yet to ſhew thee that I ſaluted thee with proper Greeting, I ſhall en⯑deavour to prove, that however diſagreeable the Sound of Pedant may be to thee, thou art certainly the Thing; and in order to this, will endeavour to ſhew thee what a Pedant, and Pedantry are, of which in thy Lucubrations and Speculations thou haſt ſo often treated

The Pedant then is, literally and originally ſpeaking, he who has the Inſtruction of Boys; and the Pedant in the figurative Appellation, which is now come to be the common one, is he who in his Converſations with Men, or in his Writings to Men, ſhews the qualities of an Inſtructor of Boys. Now Boys not being come to the uſe of their Judgment, nor the force of their Imagination, are chiefly inſtructed by Me⯑mory. Their Inſtructors therefore never argue with them, but only dictate to them, and make uſe of Authority inſtead of Reaſon with them. And to exert their Authority the more, and to [8] cauſe it to make the ſtronger Impreſſion, they dictate with a haughty and imperious Air, which ſometimes is augmented to ſuch a Degree, by Weakneſs, Ill-Breeding, Pride and Choler, that it becomes inſupportable, even to their deareſt Friends and Relations. And if their Pupils are backward in receiving their Inſtructions, or give them the ſlighteſt Provocation, they treat them with all thoſe Flowers of Rhetorick, with which thoſe Perſons are always inſpir'd, who frequent the ſonorous Nymphs of the Floud, that haunt the Banks of the vocal Thames between the Bridge and the Tower.

Thus have I ſhewn, that the Pedant, in the Acceptation in which the Word is commonly us'd, has the ſame qualities with an Inſtructor of Boys; the chief of which qualities are a dog⯑matizing Spirit, a preſumptuous Arrogance, and a ſoaring Inſolence.

Now the Man of Senſe, and the Gentleman, being diametrically oppoſite to the Pedant, muſt be one, who in his Converſations and in his Wri⯑tings, has the qualities of one who converſes with or writes to Men. Now he who knows the World, and converſes with, or writes to Men, always Argues, and never Dictates; as well knowing, that reaſonable Creatures are to be convinced by Reaſon, and not by Authority. And as Reaſon and Truth are calm and modeſt things, he never aſſumes the Dictatorian Air, is never Haughty, never Inſolent.

But if at any time, he barely aſſerts, he does it with Modeſty, if not with Diffidence; as very well knowing, that, tho' a Man by an inſolent deciſive Air, may paſs upon thoſe who are go⯑vern'd [9] by Fancy or Opinion; it never fails to render him ſuſpected to thoſe who are reſolv'd never to ſubmit to any Opinion till they be con⯑vinced by Reaſon; which latter ſort only may be truly ſaid to be Men. He therefore treats his Companion or Reader with reſpect, and would look upon it as a ſcandalous Indignity, the breaking out into thoſe Tropes and Figures which are ſo much in uſe, with thoſe who con⯑verſe with, or who write to Boys, of what Age, or Rank, or Condition whatſoever thoſe Boys are; whether they are in Infancy, or Youth, or Virility, or Gravity or Decrepitude; whether they are Ignorant or Learned Boys, of the Lees of the People, or of Equeſtrian Dignity.

And now by applying all this to my very wor⯑thy Friend, I make no doubt but to make it ap⯑pear, not only that thou haſt the Spirit of Pedan⯑try in thee, equal to any of thy Contemporaries or Predeceſſours; but that thou haſt by Nature and Genius, what they have acquir'd by Indu⯑ſtry and hard Labour; (for thou art certainly an illiterate Pedant) and art the very Cock Pedant of all the Neſt of Pedants. For beſides, that in all thy Writings, whether Papers or Pamphlets, whether Lucubrations, Speculations, Guardian, Lo⯑ver or Engliſhman, I hardly ever knew thee argue once; thou haſt carried Authority to a more ri⯑diculous Height, than ever Pedant before thee did. For if the reſt of thy Brethren have had the Extravagance, and the Preſumption, to bear down Human Reaſon, by downright Human Au⯑thority, they have ſtill had ſo much ſhadow of Modeſty left, as to attempt it by the Authority of others, and not by their own. If ſhoals of modern Pedants have arriv'd to that height of Extravagance, as to pretend to decide Diſputes, [10] where Reaſon alone ought to prevail, by an Ipſe dixit; yet none before thy ſelf has had the Ar⯑rogance and the Impudence to do it by an Ipſe dixi. But thou haſt often ſet up thy own Autho⯑rity, not only againſt Human Reaſon, but a⯑gainſt all other Human Authority. Thou haſt thought thy own dogmatick Aſſertion, enough to eſtabliſh any Opinion, which thy private In⯑tereſt requir'd; and like an Abſolute Monarch upon the Throne of Pedantry, haſt believ'd it ſufficient to ſay, Car tel eſt notre plaiſir.

I muſt confeſs that ſeveral of the Tatlers have Wit and Humour in them, a fine Raillery, and an agreeable Pleaſantry; and ſome of the Spec⯑tators likewiſe have ſome of theſe good Quali⯑ties; but I have powerful reaſons to believe, that for the moſt part the good Qualities in thoſe Writings are deriv'd from thy Correſpondents, and that only the Pedantry of them is thine. For when thou endeavourdſt to entertain the World with a Paper call'd the Guardian, after that Mr. Addiſon had abandon'd thee, and Mr. Manwaring was entirely employ'd againſt the Examiner, I found nothing in that Paper of the Qualities of the other, but only thy eternal Dogmatizing, and the haughty and pedantick Air of a School⯑maſter. Nay in this Paper thou wert dwindled into a Pedant, even according to the Litteral Acceptation of the Words; and appear'dſt every Morning with thy formal Inſtructors amidſt thy Boys and thy Girls.

I come next to the Vindication of thy Beauty. But here, my dear Jacky Boy, let us be ſe⯑rious a little. Thou knoweſt I am thy Friend, and wiſh thee well, I would not have thee make thy ſelf a Jeſt and a By-word, and a Butt to all [11] the World. Thy Beauty, Man! Why thou mayſt as well brag in thy old Age of thy Dancing a Jig. I never heard thee mention'd by any Wo⯑man, for theſe three Years laſt paſt, but thou either wentſt by the Appellation of the Black Knight with her, or ſhe ſaid ſhe could reſemble thee to nothing ſo nearly as to the Knave of Clubs. I receiv'd the following Letter from a Friend, immediately upon the publication of the 11th and 12th Theatre.

[12] This is only under one Man's Hand, but this, you may depend upon it, is the Voice of the Peo⯑ple. And whereas thou ſayſt, that thou art ſo far from having a dusky Countenance, that all Orders of Men ſmile on thee; thou putſt me in mind of part of a Dialogue between Monſieur Nathaniel Paris, and his Couſin Hippolita in the Gentleman Dancing Maſter of the late Mr. Wycher⯑ly. 'Tis in the beginning of the Third Act.

Am I ſo happy den Couſin in the bon quality of making People laugh?

Mighty Happy, Couſin.

De-grace?

Indeed.

Nay, Sans vanitie, I obſerve that whereſoever I come, I make every body Merry, Sans vanitie, Da.

I do believe you do.

Nay, as I march in de Street, I can make de dull Apprentie Laugh and Sneer.

This Fool, is as apt I ſee as an ill Poet, to miſtake the Contempt and Scorn of People, for Applauſe and Admiration.

Thus far the Gentleman Dancing Maſter. But tell me one thing my dear Friend, has an Owl a dusky. Countenance? Moſt certainly, a very reverend dusky Countenance. Now does not an Owl, whereſoever it appears, make every mor⯑tal Smile?

And now, if I ſhould call upon thee, according to thy pretended deſire, to ſee what treatment a Ghoſt would give a Mortal, I have reaſon to queſtion very much, whether thou wouldſt ap⯑pear to me; for thou knoweſt I am in the num⯑ber of thoſe things, which during thy whole [13] life time, have always been moſt terrible to thee; I mean in the number of thy Creditors. Thou haſt ow'd me theſe two Years twelve Gui⯑neas, for the firſt Payment of twelve certain Re⯑ceipts, which upon taking the Receipts, thou didſt promiſe to pay in a Week. But ſince that time, I never could ſee either the Money or the Receipts; ſo that, if I ſhould enquire for thee, the anſwer that Snug thy Servant would make, would certainly be, the Ghoſt will not appear to Day.

LETTER IV. TO Sir John Edgar.

I Come now to conſider thy twelfth Paper, in which thou pretendſt to Draw Pictures; for which thou art juſt as much Qualifyed as thou art to Cri⯑ticize; for to draw Characters, and to Criticize, requires the ſame Talent, that is, Judg⯑ment, which God and Nature have never vouch⯑ſafed to endow thee with. And therefore, all who know thee an errant Bungler, that is, all who do know thee, are very well ſatisfyed, that they are no more to expect any more Reſemblance in thy Draughts, than from a Sign Poſt Painter, nay, not the twentieth part ſo much. For no Sign Poſt Painter was ever yet ſuch a Blockhead, as to Draw the Picture of a Rat, when he deſign'd that of an Elephant; or to Draw the Figure of an Elephant, when he deſign'd that of a Rat. But now to whom is it not known, that thou haſt gi⯑ven us the Picture, of a Wren, inſtead of that of [16] an Eagle; and the Picture of an Eagle, inſtead of that of a Wren. And after thou haſt call'd thy dead Friend Wren, and thy ſelf Eagle, does not every Body know, that thou haſt not the know⯑ledge of Adam in thee, nor art qualified to give Names to Creatures agreeable to their Natures? But as thou art able to draw no body, no body can have any occaſion to draw thee. Thy Name alone is thy Picture, and comprehends as ſevere and as entire a Satire in it as Boileau ſays that of the Aſs does.

Thou canſt draw no Picture, but it wants a Name to diſtinguiſh it; no one who names thee has occaſion to draw any Picture of thee.

What! art not thou the famous Diſtinguiſher, the celebrated Knower of the World, and of Me⯑rit, who art continually endeavouring to beſ⯑patter and expoſe Miniſters of State, of admi⯑rable Abilities; and who have done the moſt im⯑portant Services for their King, their Country, and the whole Chriſtian World; and among whom, I have convincing Reaſons to believe, there are ſuch, who are as much thy Superiours in ſolid Learning, or in Polite Litterature; in Wit, and graceful Court-like Behaviour, and the fine Converſation of Gentlemen; as they are above thee in Sagacity and Penetration, in the profoundneſs of State Affairs, and the depths of Politicks? Art thou, I ſay, the famous Diſtin⯑guiſher, the celebrated Knower of the World, and of Merit, who at the ſame time that thou art vainly and impertinently endeavouring to ex⯑poſe and ridicule theſe Illuſtrious Patriots, art moſt ridiculouſly attempting to make two or [17] three paultry Players, paſs upon the World for Men of Manly, Generous, Elegant, Or⯑namental Qualities? After this need any one care whom 'tis thou Cenſureſt, and whom 'tis thou Commendeſt? And yet to make thy Judg⯑ment manifeſt ſtill further, at the ſame time that thou art endeavouring to expoſe thoſe whom the King moſt confides in, and whom he moſt values; thou art at every turn printing thy. inſi⯑pid Madrigals in the Praiſe of His Majeſty; and ſtill the Burthen of thy Song is the ſame with that of an old Starling, who is moulting his bor⯑row'd Plumes in a Cage, Dick is a Bird for the King! Dick is a Bird for the King! But how much preferable to thine is the Song of the Star⯑ling? Tho it does not mean what it ſays, like thee; yet it does not like thee, mean ſomething contrary to it. The Bird itſelf is not ſuch a Beaſt as not to know, that a Libel upon all a Man's beſt Friends, can never be interpreted a Pane⯑gyrick upon the Man. Thus we ſee, that thou never Cenſureſt, and never Commendeſt by Reaſon and by Judgment, becauſe Reaſon and Judgment are things which thou never hadſt. But thy Diſlike, or Approbation, proceeds per⯑petually from thy Paſſions, thy Malice, and thy Intereſt; but eſpecially from the laſt, which is thy great Diana.

I come now to an Error of thy Underſtand⯑ing, about which I ſhall uſe the more Words, becauſe thou ſayſt thou haſt ſo often repeated it; and that is, 'tis generally for want of Judgment, that Men ſet up for the Character of being Judicious.

And here I cannot for my Soul forbear talk⯑ing to thee in the Language of thy Brother of Brentford; Thou art mighty Ignorant poor Man, my dear Friend is very Silly, I gad he is. For to what [18] purpoſe can this jingle of Words ſerve, but to rattle in the Noddle of a wrong-headed Fellow? For was there ever any Mortal who was not rec⯑kon'd a Beaſt and an Idiot by his own, Acquain⯑tance, but who ſet up for the Character of being Judicious in the Profeſſion which he had embra⯑ced? Does not a Shoe-maker, a Taylor, a Hoſier, ſet up for the Character of being Judicious in the nature and faſhion and make of Shoes and Stoc⯑kings, and Coats and Breeches and Cloaks? Does not a Mercer ſet up for the Character of being Judicious, in the nature, and faſhion of Stuffs and Silks, and Brocades? Does not a Stock⯑Jobber, or an Exchange Broker ſet up for the Cha⯑racter of being Judicious, in the Turns, the Riſe and Fall of the Publick Funds? When ten or more Clergy-men Preach for a vacant Benefice, does not each of them pretend to be more skil⯑ful and Judicious in the ways of Salvation, than his other Antagoniſts? Wouldſt thou Fee a Law⯑yer in an important Cauſe, who ſhould tell thee ſeriouſly, that he did not ſet up for having more Judgment than his Neighbours in Statute and Common Law? Wouldſt thou truſt thy Life up⯑on a dangerous Criſis, in the Hands of a Phyſi⯑cian, who ſhould aſſure thee, that he had no more Judgment in Phyſick than one of his Pa⯑tients? But to come to Authors, does not every one who publiſhes a Book in any Art or Science, pretend to inſtruct at leaſt ſome of his Readers? But which of his Readers can he pretend to In⯑ſtruct, but thoſe who are more Ignorant than himſelf in the matters of which he treats? But if he ſuppoſes that ſome of his Readers are more Ignorant than himſelf in the matters of which he treats, does not he ſet up for the Character of being more Judicious in thoſe matters than they are?

[19] When Copernicus publiſh'd his Syſtem of the World, did not he pretend to a little more Judg⯑ment in Aſtronomy, than ſome who had gone be⯑fore him, and others who liv'd at the ſame time with him, and who ſtill adher'd to the Piolemaick Syſtem? When Des Cartes publiſh'd his Syſtem of Natural Philoſophy, did not he by thoſe won⯑derful Diſcoveries of the motion of the Earth, and others, pretend to a little more Judg⯑ment in that Science, and to penetrate fur⯑ther into the Secrets of Nature than thoſe who had gone before him? When the Celebrated Harvey gave the World his Treatiſe of the Circu⯑lation of the Blood, could he have oblig'd and adorn'd the Common-wealth of Learning by that noble and uſeful Diſcovery, if he had not ſet up for the Character of having more Judgment in Anatomy, than either his Predeceſſours, or his Contemporaries? And when Sir Iſac Newton, whoſe Merit is above what the Muſes themſelves can Commend, oblig'd and aſtoniſh'd the Learn⯑ed World by his Immortal and unparallel'd Trea⯑tiſes; thoſe Treatiſes which have made him an Honour to his Country, An Advancer of the no⯑bleſt Learning, and an Enlarger of the Empire of the Mind; what, did he pretend to no more Judgment in Mathematicks, than the herd of Ma⯑thematicians?,

Is it not now moſt apparent, that every one ſets up for the Character of being Judicious in his own Profeſſion, and his own Art? Why then ſhould not that be allow'd to a Poet, which is granted to all the reſt? And why ſhould it be denyed by thee of all Men; and be denyed in a Paper, in which you are doing the very ſame thing which you pretend to ridicule in others? [20] For are not you pretending to write a Paper here for the Improvement of-the Stage? And how doeſt thou pretend to Improve it, by en⯑deavouring to impoſe upon the World according to thy laudable Cuſtom, and ſetting up for the Character of being more Judicious in Theatri⯑cal matters, than moſt of your Readers; or by ſpeaking the Truth, and telling the World that thou art a very Silly Fellow, and an eternal Jabberer about, matters of which thou under⯑ſtandeſt not a Syllable? What is become now of that fine Maxim, that 'tis generally for want of Judgment that Men ſet up for the Character of being Judicious? Why thou errant Triſler! Thou ri⯑diculous Maxim Monger! Thou haſt a hundred ſuch pretty Jingles in thy wonderful Specula⯑tions, I mean the Speculations which are pecu⯑liarly thine, and to which thou, haſt let thy Mark; Maxims which are calculated for Under⯑ſtandings of the ſame Latitude with thine, and which are under the ſame Elevation of Pole; Maxims which ſhew'd thee as blind as Hector, or Pompey, or Caeſar's Offspring, that came into the World but Yeſterday. But as I have now ſome leiſure to conſider them, I will try, if by my lit⯑tle Art I can Couch the Cataracts of thy Under⯑ſtanding.

But the miſchief of it is, that there is this dif⯑ference between a four Leg'd Puppy, and a two Leg'd one; that whereas a four Leg'd one is Blind but for nine Days, a two Leg'd one does not only come into the World Blind, but for the moſt part continues to be Blind, when he comes to be an old Dog.

To this bleſſed Maxim, thou art pleas'd to ſubjoyn theſe Words, Every body of any ſtanding in [21] Town, knows that the dulleſt and moſt ſtupid Writers we have had, have ſet up for Criticks; why yes truly, this has been the Cant for forty Years, to⯑gether, among Perſons of thy noble Under⯑ſtanding. The Cry has gone round, that 'tis impoſſible for any one who has ſhewn himſelf a Critick by his Proſe, to ſhew himſelf a good Poet by his Verſe; which was occaſion'd firſt, by the late Mr. Rymer's publiſhing a very dull Tragedy of Edgar, after he had publiſh'd a Book in Proſe, in which there was a great deal of good and juſt Criticiſm. 'Tis true indeed, Edgar was ſo abſurd a Monarch, that he ſeem'd to be a fore⯑running Type of thy ſelf, who wert to ſtrut up⯑on the Stage in the, ſucceeding Century, under the ſame Heroick Name. From this accident, the Poetaſters of the Age, who believ'd it their Intereſt to fix a Brand upon Criticiſm, immedi⯑ately cryed out, and made all their Diſciples re⯑peat after them, that no Critick could be a Poet; not conſidering that one of the greateſt of the Roman Poets, and, one of the greateſt of the French, were Criticks by Profeſſon, as well as Poets; and ſet up for the Character of being Judicious in their own Art; nay, and had the Impudence to appear publickly out of Humour with ſome Popular Scriblers, who had had Succeſs. But to return to Mr. Rymer; whether that Gentle⯑man's ill Performance proceeded from his want of Imagination, without which no Man can make a Poet, let him have what Judgment he will; or from his want of Exerciſe and Practice, we ſhould have been better able to determine, if that Judicious Gentleman had writ more. If Mr. Rymer's Tragedy is an ill one, neither Shake⯑ſpear's or Ben. Johnſon's firſt Damatick Poems were Maſter-pieces; and neither Ben nor Shakeſpear, they had left nothing behind them but theſe, [22] would have paſs'd with Poſterity tor great Poets. But whatever was the Reaſon of Mr. Rymer's Miſ⯑carriage, if theſe Authors had only infer'd from it, that a Man may ſometimes have the Theory of an Art, which yet he may not be fully qua⯑lifyed to practice with Succeſs, nothing could have been more juſt. But for them to draw not only a general Inference from a particular Fact, but an Inference ſo very abſurd, as that a Man cannot Practice an Art with Succeſs, for no o⯑ther reaſon, but becauſe he has ſhewn that he Underſtands it, was Beſtial and Abominable. I am afraid, my dear Friend, that it will be found upon enquiry, that the very contrary of this is an eternal Truth. He who Practices an Art with Succeſs, which he does not underſtand, is moſt infallibly an ill Artiſt, notwithſtanding all his Succeſs; and is indebted for that Succeſs, to the groſs Ignorance and Barbarity of thoſe whom he has the Luck to pleaſe.

If ever that Aſſertion, that the dulleſt and moſt ſtupid Writers which we have had, have ſet up for Criticks is prov'd it muſt be by thy Ex⯑ample. For as there is not one Author alive, who has ſet up for Criticiſm ſo much as thou haſt, there is not in all Great Britain ſo ſtupid and ſo dull a Writer as thou art, when thou art left to thy ſelf.

To make good both the Branches of this Aſ⯑ſertion: when old Bickerſtaff publiſh'd his Tatlers, did he ſet up for a Critick, did he ſet up for the Character of being Judicious or not? Let us ſee what he ſays himſelf in his Dedication to the late Mr. Maynwaring.

[23] The general purpoſe of this Paper is to expoſe the falſe Arts of Life, and to pull off the Diſ⯑guiſes of Cunning, Vanity, and Affectation; and to recommend a general Simplicity in our Dreſs, our Diſcourſe, and our Behaviour. No Man has a better Judgment for the Diſcovery, or a nobler Spirit for the Contempt of all Impoſture, than your ſelf; which Qualities render you the moſt proper Patron for the Author of theſe Eſſays.

Thus far old Bickerſtaff. Now this as I take it, is ſetting▪ up for ſomething more than the Character of being barely Judicious; tis ſetting up for Sagacity, tis ſetting up for Penetration, which are the Accompliſhments, and the Per⯑fections of Judgment. Now if it be true, that 'tis generally for want of Judgment, that a Man ſets up for the Character of being Judicious; what ſhall we ſay of the Man who ſets up for the Character of Sagacity, for the Character of Penetration? For ſuch a one arrogates a hun⯑dred times more to himſelf, than one who ſets up for the Character of being barely Judicious in paſſing his Judgment on the Works of Authors. To know the Hearts of Men requires infinitely more Capacity, than barely to know Books. A Book alas, has but one meaning; whatever it ſpeaks it thinks. But the Heart of Man has Folds and Doubles, and Receſſes innumerable. Yet thro' all theſe haſt thou pretended to pierce, and conſequently haſt pretended to Criticiſm, of a nobler and more difficult Nature, than any Au⯑thor living. But though thou didſt pretend to do all this, what thou really didſt of it was by the Sagacity and Penetration of others. And when thou hadſt got ingenious Tools to write thee into [24] an Income of two Thouſand Pounds a Year, thou coulſt not be ſatisfyed, till like the moſt dull and ſtupid of all Writers thou hadſt writ thy ſelf out of it again.

The Courtſhip which Sir Martin Mar-all made to Mrs. Milleſant, and that which thou didſt formerly make to Dame Fortune, and to Madam Fame, will certainly make a Parallel that will run upon all Four. Sir Martin had a mind to Mrs. Milleſant, but not having Capacity, nor Ad⯑dreſs to gain her, he prevail'd upon Warner to do that for him, but to do it in ſuch a way that Sir Martin was to have the Credit and the Benefit of it. Now the Lady being a Lover of Muſick, Sir Martin was to give her a Leſſon upon the Theorbo, and a Song. In order to this Sir Martin is to appear in a Balcony, at a diſtance from her, with a Lute in his Hand, and the Motions of a Thrummer, and the Grimaces of a Singer, while Warner is to Sing and to Play for him behind the Curtain. Well! All this was very well concer⯑ted; but the Succeſs of all was to depend upon the Signal agreed upon between them, and that was, that Sir Martin ſhould leave off his Grima⯑ces, and his Thrummings upon his dumb Lute, up⯑on the Ringing of a Bell. But the fooliſh Knight was ſo full of his Miſtreſs and himſelf, that tho' the Bell rung twice, yet his Hand and Jaws ſtill went, and expos'd him to the Scorn of his Mi⯑ſtreſs and the Chambermaid.

I will leave thee, my dear Friend, to apply all this to thy ſelf. But I cannot forbear taking no⯑tice, that it was very imprudent in thee not to leave off upon the Bells ringing twice; that is, upon the Bell that rung for Mr. Maynwaring's, and Mr. Addiſon's Funeral.

[25] I come now to ſome of the pretended Facts of which thou haſt been pleaſed to accuſe me; and I will begin with that which relates to Mr. Con⯑greve and Mr. Addiſon, upon whom thou ſayſt I have been more ſevere than upon any other Per⯑ſons. As for being ſevere upon Mr. Congreve, tis a figure in Speech, which Jeremy ſays in Love for Love, interlards the greateſt part of his Con⯑verſation. As for Mr. Addiſon, I muſt confeſs, I did write the Remarks upon Cato; but I did not baſely flatter and ſawn upon Mr. Addiſon while he was living, and then more baſely inſult him as ſoon as he was Dead. I did not while he was living, write a flattering fulſom Dedication to him, in which I made him a Thouſand times greater than my ſelf; and then as ſoon as he was Dead write a flattering fulſom Dedication to my ſelf, in which I made my ſelf a Thouſand times greater than him. A little below there is ano⯑ther extraordinary Figure, where thou pretendſt to inſinuate that I have been us'd by ſome Peo⯑ple ſo as a Man of Honour ought not to be us'd. Who are thoſe People? Thou canſt not, thou dareſt not name them. Becauſe then the Lye would appear too groſs and palpable. I'll tell thee whom I have us'd at that rate, and that is, thy Friend, thy Prieſt, thy Worſhipper, thy Viceroy. Thou either knoweſt or oughteſt to know that I have beat him; and I do not know but I might have been provok'd to do as much by his Wooden God, if he had dar'd to offer to my Face, what he has baſely writ. Thou ſayſt that my Pamphlet is ſo cruel, that it could be writ by none but a Coward. I believe I have gi⯑ven other ſort of Proofs of my Courage, than one who in the time of a Bloody War, for twen⯑ty Years together, took the King's Pay as a Sol⯑dier [26] and never was in any Action; than one who for twenty Years together fought as he writ, by Proxy. The Cruelty of a Coward conſiſts not in Words but Actions: Then, then, was the Cruelty, then was the Cowardice, when upon a certain Night in November laſt, three villanous Foot-Pads rob'd a poor defenceleſs Paſſenger of all that he had, and ſaid that they did it by a Deputation from thee. And thou wert afterwards pleas'd to abet this Action, and call thoſe Foot-Pads, Men of Manly, Elegant, Generous, Or⯑namental Qualities. Hinc illae Lachrymoe. From hence aroſe thoſe Crocodile Tears, which thou haſt ſhew'd in ſome of thy Papers.

Didſt thou not ſnew thy Courage in a notable manner, by giving ſuch Language in thy Thea⯑tres, after having declar'd againſt ſingle Combat by thy Lucubrations, and againſt Siege and Bat⯑tle by thy Conduct? Was it not Bravely and He⯑roically done to call upon both the Living and the Dead to revenge thy Cauſe upon one of Sixty Five; and to endeavour to ſet both the King's Horſe and Foot Guards upon one of Sixty Five? For my part, I have always firmly believ'd, that I have more true Courage than any one, than whom I have more Underſtanding. For if For⯑titude is a Virtue, of which I know no Man who doubts, it muſt depend upon the Reaſon and not upon the Complexion; but if it depends upon the Reaſon, then the ſtronger the Reaſon is, the ſtronger muſt be the Virtue. And I have always thought, that as God and Nature have given to Man the Dominion over Beaſt, they have ſo far given to reaſonable Men the Dominion over Blockheads, that they are rather born to ſcorn them than to fear them. And I appeal to all my Acquaintance in Town, of whom there are ſe⯑veral [27] living of 30 and 40 Years ſtanding, if theſe Sentiments were ever contradicted by any Action or Accident of my Life.

But if by the continual Fears thou haſt given me, thou meanſt, as thou ſeemſt to inſinuate, my apprehenſions of Perſons to whom I may owe Money; thou of all Men haſt as little reaſon to upbraid me with theſe Fears as the others. For who was it that lay skulking ſo many Years, at the Tilt-yard Sutlers, when he was ſo ſtrongly poſſeſs'd with Fear, that he could not think himſelf in ſafety, unleſs he had the Horſe and Foot-Guards for his Security? When the late facetious Daniel Purcel gave him the name of Major General Hide; and the chief Maxim of his Life ſeem'd to be, Qui latuit bene vixit. If I had the Misfortune to be an Inſolvent Debtor, I ſhould have this A⯑pology to make for my ſelf, that my Inſolvency would not be owing to any Extravagance or want of taking Pains, but to the hard, not to ſay the unjuſt Uſage which I have met with in the World; and in great part to your Injuſtice and Barbarity, and the Injuſtice and Barbarity of thoſe who deriv'd their Power from you. The being an Inſolvent Debtor, is rather to be pitied than condemn'd, when it has not been occaſion'd either by Profuſeneſs or Idleneſs, but tho being in Debt is both odious and contemptible in one, who is at the ſame time a Squanderer, a Bank⯑rupt, and an Oppreſſor. But yet to ſhew you that I am not in the condition which you ima⯑gine, I have for theſe laſt four Years lodg'd con⯑tinually in the Neighbourhood of White-hall, and I appeal to the Honourable Board of Greencloth, if during that time, ſo much as one Complaint as been preferr'd againſt me.

[28] I ſhould now ſay ſomething of the Falſhoods, of which you accuſe me, in my two former Let⯑ters, and of the Ingratitude of which thou pre⯑tendeſt to accuſe me, for writing againſt thoſe, who have endeavour'd to ſerve me. As theſe two Letters will be ſhortly follow'd by a Fifth and a Sixth, I ſhall endeavour to ſhew in them, who are the Lovers of Truth, and who are the Slanderers, who are the Benefactors, and who the Unjuſt and Oppreſſors. And then, if with thy little Underſtanding, thou haſt not loſt all Senſe of Shame, I ſhall cauſe thy dusky Coun⯑tenance to turn Red, as the Morning does, or as a Lobſter boil'd.

But having ſaid more already than I deſign'd to do at preſent, and you having heard more than thou hadſt a mind to hear, I ſhall take my leave for a little time; only adding, that as thou haſt form'd a Fantom in thy Mind, which thou wouldſt paſs upon the World for thy Friend, and which every impartial Man who has ſeen it, has declar'd to be juſt as like to me, as a Wren is like to the late Mr. Addiſon, or as thou art like to an Eagle; I ſhall, by way of Gratitude or Ac⯑knowledgment, ſubjoin to theſe Letters, the Picture of my dear Friend; and I appeal to all who ſhall ſee it, if I am not the happier Painter of the two, and draw the livelier Reſemblance. And ſo at preſent, my very worthy Friend, I heartily bid thee Farewel.