THE CHARACTERS AND CONDUCT OF Sir
John Edgar,
&c.
THE CHARACTERS AND CONDUCT OF Sir
John Edgar,
AND HIS Three
Deputy-Governours.
During the Administration of the late SEPARATE MINISTRY. In a Third and Fourth Letter to the KNIGHT. WITH A Picture of Sir JOHN, Drawn by a Pen, exactly after the Life.
LONDON:
Printed and Sold by J. ROBERTS, in
Warwick-Lane.
1720. Price
Six Pence.
To His GRACE the DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.
My LORD,
A Dresses of this nature are but too often Petitions for Favours to come. But the Intention of this is to return thanks to your Grace for the Favour you did me the Honour to confer upon me in
November
last. Your Grace, perhaps, may inclin'd to believe, that my Acknowledgment comes somewhat of the latest. I therefore being concern'd to vindicate the Reputation of my Gratitude, take the Liberty to assure your Grace, that I knew nothing certainly of the Favour, which by your Order was conferr'd upon me in
November
last, till within this Fortnight. And as I had heard nothing certain of it, till so long after your Grace had commanded it; for that very Reason, I had believ'd nothing of it, when I did hear of it, if a Gentleman of undoubted Honour had not assur'd me, that he was present, when you were pleas'd to give Directions about it. As I knew nothing of it till within this Fortnight, so all I know of it now, is the assurance which that Gentleman has given me that your Grace has ordered it. For, tho, depending upon that Gentleman's Honour and his Integrity, I have endeavour'd to have Evidence of Sense in the Case, as much as I could endeavour it with any manner of Decency, and without subjecting my self to be treated, in my Messengers, with repeated and intolerable Insolence, by that Servant who receiv'd your Grace's Command, to convey your Favour to me, I have found to my infinite Surprize, that, at the very time that I have been, labouring to unmask and expose an Hypocritical, Wretch, who has had the Impudence and the Ingratitude publickly to affront your Grace, as far, as Animals of his Species can affront you; at that very time one of your own Domestick Servants, your errant Creature, who subsists entirely by your Bounty, has been diligent and industrious, in giving me all the Disappointment, and all the Disturbance, that, it has been in his, Power to give me; and consequently all the Diversion that he could possibly give me in favour of your Grace's declar'd and mortal Enemy.
But as your Grace's conferring this Favour consisted in your ordering it to be done, and not in my receiving it, I am obliged to return you my humble Thanks for it, as much as if I were in actual Possession of it.
I am Very sorry that upon Addressing my self twice to your Grace after this manner, I have been oblig'd each time, to make a Complaint to you. But I cannot absolutely despair of your Pardon for it, when I consider that your Grace's Honour has been more concern'd in each Complaint than any Inrerest of mine. Since I made the first Complaint to you, I have had the Satisfaction to see, that your Grace has retriev'd the Jurisdiction over our
Theatres,
which is annex'd to your Office, as
Lord Chamberlain
of his Majesty's
Houshold;
and have had the Pleasure to hear that you have mortify'd four Insolent Wretches, who had dar'd to usurp it from you.
As for the Complaint which I lay before you at present, I must leave it to be determin'd by your Grace's Wisdom and Justice, whether the Insolence of the late
Separate Ministry,
whether the Insolence of Sir
John Edgar
himself, was ever so flagrant or so insupportable, as that of your Domestick and Menial Servant, who has presum'd to abuse your Grace's Service in the most Injurious Manner; to treat a Person insolently, whom you had treated favourably; to intercept and retain your Favour, and betray the Trust repos'd in him, and to controul you in your very Domain; where because you are most independent, you ought to be most uncontroulable.
My Lord, if your Grace should be in the least surpriz'd at the uncommon Method of conveying this Complaint to you, I am inclin'd to believe that you will have the Goodness to consider, that the subject Matter of it is a great deal more strange and more extraordinary, than the manner of conveying it to you. For I appeal to all those Persons of Condition, who have been us'd to receive Addresses of this nature, if they ever knew, or ever heard of any thing like it, in any of their Servants before.
Besides, I had a great deal of Reason to believe, that I had no other way of approaching your Grace. For he who has had the Assurance for four Months together, to intercept and retain your Grace's Favour, would certainly have ventur'd to intercept any Letter that should have come from me, or to hinder my having any personal Access to you. But I believe he dare hardly do that by the little Book to which this is prefix'd, and which I have here the Honour to send you. If his Presumption should extend so far, my Comfort is, that your Grace will hear of the Contents of this Epistle from a Hundred of your Humble Servants.
I am, My Lord, Your Grace's most obedient, and most humble Servant,
LETTER III. TO Sir John Edgar.
My Dear KNIGHT,
S INCE 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 making 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 Acquaintance. 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 establishd by no less than two Patents, the one granted by the late Queen, and the other by His present Majesty; whereas thine was conferr'd only by a transitory Blow given upon Shoulder-blade; which when some jeering malicious Persons heard of, they said, they rejoyc'd that Honour was got so near as within a Foot of thy
Pericranium.
But now to enter upon business; how agreeably 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 expression to you, which was formerly us'd to another old
Thraso
in the Eunuch of
Terence.
Soldier.
Dî vostram Fidem! Quanti est sapere! Nunquam accedo, Quin abs te abeam Doctior.
For my part, I have all along been weak enough to believe, that to go by an
alias
is a manifest Cheat, and that every Impostor means Interest and not Virtue. But this notable Distinction 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 extremest Vengeance, and deserves Death without 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 Satires, 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
Absalom
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
Mackflecno,
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 acknowledges 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 expose much better Physicians than himself, for no other reason but because they were not of his Opinion in the affair of the
Dispensary.
Now tho' these were Libels, and very injurious, yet the Authors justly thought it more creditable to suffer them to be publish'd without any Name rather 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 Design, 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 understand. For there is a wise and a knowing Ignorance, 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.
And now, my dear Friend, thou art for mounting 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 nothing 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 effusion 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 terrible 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 peregrinum 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 forbear laughing then, to hear thee cry out, that thou shouldst be the happiest Man in the World, 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 restrain thee from going to Law? Hast thou not Money to pay thy Lawyers? Or art thou suing some unaccountable Debtors, who having Money to spare for their Liberalities and their Profusions, have that irregular greatness of Soul, that they scorn to pay a just Debt till it comes to Execution; 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 Serjeant at Law, with a hard Name, who, if thou repairest to him, will instruct thee in an admirable 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 Counsel 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 you? Besides, how come you so earnest to get a Patent for the Hoop, which you were so eager to demolish in your wonderful Speculations?
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 giving 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 endeavour 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
In proper terms, such as Men smatter,
When they throw out and miss the matter.
Hud.
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 Memory. 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 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 dogmatizing 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 Writings, 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 govern'd 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 convinced 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 converse 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 worthy Friend, I make no doubt but to make it appear, not only that thou hast the Spirit of Pedantry in thee, equal to any of thy Contemporaries or Predecessours; but that thou hast by Nature and Genius, what they have acquir'd by Industry 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, Lover
or
Englishman,
I hardly ever knew thee argue once; thou hast carried Authority to a more ridiculous 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 Authority, 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, where Reason alone ought to prevail, by an
Ipse dixit;
yet none before thy self has had the Arrogance and the Impudence to do it by an
Ipse dixi.
But thou hast often set up thy own Authority, not only against Human Reason, but against all other Human Authority. Thou hast thought thy own dogmatick Assertion, enough to establish any Opinion, which thy private Interest 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
Spectators
likewise have some of these good Qualities; 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 Schoolmaster. 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 serious 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 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 Woman, 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.
Dear Sir,
YOURS of Yesterday I receiv'd this Morning. I have seen the noble Knight's Production which you mention, and could not but laugh to read of the Knight's Tears. I suppose they were produc'd by the Author of the two Letters questioning his Beauty, which he takes some pains in a most ridiculous manner to vindicate. He seems patient enough under the Confutation of his Reason and Understanding, to which he replyes not one Word. But the
Beau Garcon
of Sixty cannot bear an attack on his Beauty, and is forc'd to write Letters to himself like other old Beaux, from suppos'd Ladies, to vindicate what he never possess'd. The Knight has discover'd a great deal of Malice, and utter'd a great deal of Slander in his last Paper; but this Verse of
Dryden
's will fit his Performance.
In his Felonious Heart tho' Venom lyes,
It does but touch his
Irish
Pen and dyes.
I am,
&c.
This is only under one Man's Hand, but this, you may depend upon it, is the Voice of the People. 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.
Wycherly.
'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 mortal 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 appear to me; for thou knowest I am in the number of those things, which during thy whole 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
Guineas,
for the first Payment of twelve certain Receipts, 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.
I am,
&c.
LETTER IV. TO Sir John Edgar.
My Excellent FRIEND,
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 Criticize; for to draw Characters, and to Criticize, requires the same Talent, that is, Judgment, which God and Nature have never vouchsafed 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 given us the Picture, of a
Wren,
instead of that of 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 knowledge 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.
Dont le nom seul en soy comprend une Satire.
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 Merit, who art continually endeavouring to bespatter and expose Ministers of State, of admirable Abilities; and who have done the most important 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 Distinguisher, the celebrated Knower of the World, and of Merit, who at the same time that thou art vainly and impertinently endeavouring to expose and ridicule these Illustrious Patriots, art most ridiculously attempting to make two or three paultry Players, pass upon the World for Men of Manly, Generous, Elegant, Ornamental Qualities? After this need any one care whom 'tis thou Censurest, and whom 'tis thou Commendest? And yet to make thy Judgment 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. insipid 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 borrow'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
Starling?
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 Panegyrick 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 perpetually 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 Understanding, 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 talking 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 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 reckon'd a Beast and an Idiot by his own, Acquaintance, but who set up for the Character of being Judicious in the Profession which he had embraced? 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 Stockings, 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
StockJobber,
or an
Exchange Broker
set up for the Character 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 skilful and Judicious in the ways of Salvation, than his other Antagonists? Wouldst thou Fee a Lawyer 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 upon a dangerous Crisis, in the Hands of a Physician, who should assure thee, that he had no more Judgment in Physick than one of his Patients? 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 Instruct, 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?
When
Copernicus
publish'd his System of the World, did not he pretend to a little more Judgment in
Astronomy,
than some who had gone before 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 wonderful Discoveries of the motion of the Earth, and others, pretend to a little more Judgment in that Science, and to penetrate further into the Secrets of Nature than those who had gone before him? When the Celebrated
Harvey
gave the World his Treatise of the Circulation 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 Learned World by his Immortal and unparallel'd Treatises; those Treatises which have made him an Honour to his Country, An Advancer of the noblest Learning, and an Enlarger of the Empire of the Mind; what, did he pretend to no more Judgment in
Mathematicks,
than the herd of Mathematicians?,
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? 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 endeavouring to impose upon the World according to thy laudable Custom, and setting up for the Character of being more Judicious in Theatrical 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 understandest 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 ridiculous
Maxim Monger!
Thou hast a hundred such pretty Jingles in thy wonderful Speculations, I mean the Speculations which are peculiarly thine, and to which thou, hast let thy Mark; Maxims which are calculated for Understandings 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 little Art I can Couch the Cataracts of thy Understanding.
But the mischief of it is, that there is this difference 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 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, together, among Persons of thy noble Understanding. 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 forerunning Type of thy self, who wert to strut upon 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, immediately cryed out, and made all their Disciples repeat 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 Gentleman'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
Shakespear
's or
Ben. Johnson
's first Damatick Poems were Master-pieces; and neither
Ben
nor
Shakespear,
they had left nothing behind them but these, would have pass'd with Posterity tor great Poets. But whatever was the Reason of Mr.
Rymer
's Miscarriage, 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 qualifyed 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 other 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 Example. 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 Assertion: 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.
The general purpose of this Paper is to expose the false Arts of Life, and to pull off the Disguises 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 Perfections 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 hundred 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 Author 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 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 Address 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 concerted; 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 Grimaces, and his Thrummings upon his dumb Lute, upon 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 Mistress and the Chambermaid.
I will leave thee, my dear Friend, to apply all this to thy self. But I cannot forbear taking notice, 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.
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.
Congreve
and Mr.
Addison,
upon whom thou sayst I have been more severe than upon any other Persons. 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 Conversation. 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 another extraordinary Figure, where thou pretendst to insinuate that I have been us'd by some People 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 given other sort of Proofs of my Courage, than one who in the time of a Bloody War, for twenty Years together, took the King's Pay as a Soldier 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, Ornamental 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
Theatres,
after having declar'd against single Combat by thy Lucubrations, and against Siege and Battle by thy Conduct? Was it not Bravely and Heroically 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 Fortitude 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 several 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 Apology 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 Bankrupt, and an Oppressor. But yet to shew you that I am not in the condition which you imagine, I have for these last four Years lodg'd continually 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.
I should now say something of the Falshoods, of which you accuse me, in my two former Letters, and of the Ingratitude of which thou pretendest 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 Countenance 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 Acknowledgment, 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.
THE PICTURE OF Sir John Edgar.
S IR
John Edgar,
the County of —in
Ireland,
is of a middle Stature, broad Shoulders, thick Legs, a Shape like the Picture of
somebody
over a Farmers Chimney, a short Chin, a short Nose, a short Forehead, a broad flat Face, and a dusky Countenance. He us'd to compare himself to an
Eagle;
and to oblige the first Fool that he met with, to give it under his Hand that he was so. But neither his Nose, nor his Eyes, nor his Discernment, nor his broad flat Face, nor his dusky Countenance were held to be Aquiline. He was believ'd to be in all these more like to another Bird than an
Eagle.
Yet with such a Shape, and such a Face, he discover'd at Sixty that, he took himself for a Beauty, and appear'd to be more mortify'd upon his being told he was Ugly, than he was by any reflection that was ever made upon his Honour or his Understanding.
He is a Gentleman born, Witness himself: of a very Honourable Family, certainly of a very Ancient one. For his Ancestours flourish'd in
Tipperary
long before the
English
ever set Foot in
Ireland.
He has Testimony of this more Authentick than the
Heralds
Office, or than any Human Testimony; for God has mark'd him more abundantly than he did
Cain,
and stamp'd his Native Country upon his Face, his Understanding, his Writings, his Actions, his Passions, and above all his Vanity. The
Hibernian
Brogue is still upon all these, tho long Habitude and length of Days have worn it from off his Tongue.
He is the greatest Pretender but one, of the Age in which he lives; a Pretender both to Understanding and Virtue, but especially to the latter, But some malicious People have thought, that he made constant Court to that venerable Lady, not out of any Affection which he had for her Person, but because he was struck by the Charms of the Joynture which he believ'd might follow her. And they were confirm'd in this Opinion, by observing the Quarrels, which he had every Day with one or other of her four Daughters. Yet this pretended Passion did him great Service. It was to him
Major Domo, Factotum, Housekeeper, Cook, Butler, Taylor
and
Sempstress;
because we live in a noble Climate, where Persons who are universally known to be Cheats and Sharpers, keep their Coaches by being so.
Yet to one of the Daughters of that venerable Lady, he paid great respect in Publick,
videlicet,
to Madam
Justice.
And to gain her Favour, and obtain her Protection, he thought it not beneath him, to admit the meanest of her Servants and Officers into the greatest familiarity with him. So that there was no respect of Persons among them. But it was
Jack
and
Tom,
and
Will
and
Hal,
and
Dick
with them. But he always combin'd with these her Servants to injure and abuse her in Private, and unknown to her play'd a hundred Pranks with them to the prejudice of her Interest and Reputation; which were not long kept so very Private, but the World took notice that neither he nor the Servants car'd one Farthing for the Mistress they pretended to serve. He would very often do Extravagant things, very seldom Generous ones, and never by his good will Just ones. Yet was he a great pretender to Generosity; but Generosity with him was squandring away his Money upon Knaves and Fools who flatter'd him. Thus a Bubble is a very generous Creature to the
Shark
who preys upon him; and a Beggar is generous to the Vermin that feed upon him.
He had that seeming respect for the Laws of his Country, and appear'd to be so delighted with them, that tho' he had the Happiness of enjoying them as much as the most zealous of his Fellow Subjects, even as those to whom one may say, the Zeal of the Law hath eaten them up; yet that he might be sure the Correspondence between them might be for Life, he had, thro' a greatness of Soul peculiar to him, assum'd a noble Resolution that would never suffer him to pay any one a Farthing, 'till it came to Execution. Yet notwithstanding all this he was not satisfy'd; but was always crying out Law, Law, more Law, more Law.
He appears to be mighty zealous for the Rights of the People, and to be terribly afraid of the return of the old Aristocracy, by which he has got the nick Name with some of
Aristocracy Edgar.
No Man had ever so much in his Mouth, Benevolence and Beneficence to Mankind, as he; which to his Creditors seems a great Fable: For, say they, since he hates us who have most oblig'd him, to that degree, that he cannot endure to see our Faces, how can he possibly love the rest? He us'd one while to call himself the
Christian Heroe,
till it grew a publick Jest. For the People would not allow him to be a Heroe, because, tho he had been a Soldier so many Years in the time of a Bloody War, he never had been present either at Siege or Battle; and he could not possibly, they us'd to say, be a Christian, because he us'd constantly to spend the Mornings in Cursing
the Houshold of Faith,
tho' they came in shoals to his Levees, out of pure Zeal to exhort him to do his Duty.
He valued himself exceedingly, upon being a great Improver, and a great Reformer, tho' the truth of the matter is, that he never had half Skill enough to improve any thing, nor half Virtue enough to reform any thing. During the time that he was Governour of the
Bear-Garden,
the Diversions of that place were more Stupid and Barbarous than ever they were known to be before, and the wild Beasts more mischievous and untractable. And he was especially so far from Reforming any thing, that it was generally observ'd, that the greater part of those who had been most intimate with him, were very far from being more Virtuous than their Neighbours; tho' he never fail'd of doing one thing in order to the making them so, and that is, entring them in the School of Adversity.
Now as for
Temperance,
another Daughter of the abovementioned venerable Lady, he caresses and courts her all the live-long Day; and compliments her as the Queen of Morals, and the Empress of Life. But as soon as the Night approaches, then sparkling Champaign puts an end to her Reign.
He judiciously believes, that by preaching Abstinence up by Day-light, he has made an honourable Composition for his drinking three Bottles by Candle-light.
We may say of his Fortitude, What
Butler
said of
Hudibras
's Wit; He may be Master of a very great deal, but thro' abundance of Modest'y is shie of making any Parade of it, but reserves it for an occasion which no body can diving. For he has declar'd against single Combat by his Writings, and against Siege and Battle by his Conduct and Actions, that is, by staying at home in a time of War, with a Commission in a Pennyless Pocket, and choosing rather to run the Risk of being taken Prisoner by the
English,
than of being kill'd by the
French.
Now as for
Prudence,
the fourth Daughter, he has a Magnanimity which teaches him utterly to despise her, and to regard her as an abandon'd Person, that prostitutes her self to the lowest Mechanicks. He therefore makes it the business of his Life to Affront her, and abuses her in all his Conversation, his Writings and his Actions; of which there can be ho stronger Testimony, than his mortally disobliging his cordial tho' partial Friends who rais'd him, and going over to a Party whom he had exasperated beyond any possibility of a sincere Reconcilement.
He is so great a Friend to Union, that almost all Orders and Ranks of Men are united in his Person. For he has been Poet, Orator, Soldier, Officer, Projector, News-monger, Casuist, Scribe, Politician, Fish monger, Knight▪ and Gold finder; and what is never enough to be admir'd, he has been all these, by virtue of other Mens Capacities. Like a very Patentee, he has perform'd the Functions of all these by Proxy, and by Deputy. As an Author he Writ by Proxy; as a Soldier by proxy he fought; He is so given to do every thing by Proxy and by Deputy, that one would swear he lies with his Mistress by Proxy and by Deputy, as several honest worthy Gentlemen of his Antiquity are us'd to lie with theirs.
Tho no Man in
Great Britain
is so fit a Subject for Satire as himself, yet has he been always writing Waggish Lampoons upon others. And whenever he exposes a Lord in one of his Libels, he has got a trick of affronting him ten times more by way of begging his Pardon.
He has been always begging something of the Government; and tho he has obtain'd ten times more of it than he deserv'd, yet he grumbling thinks they have given him nothing, because he has retain'd nothing; and is outragiously angry with some of the great Officers of the Crown, because they have refus'd to wast the whole time of their Administration in
pouring Water into a Sieve.
He had one while, as I hinted above, obtain'd a Patent to be Governour of the,
Bear-Garden;
tho that Patent was invalid and void, by vertue of a previous Statute. Yet when he thought himself establish'd in that Post, he chose a
Bear,
a
Baboon,
and a
Wolf
for his Deputy Governours; but partly growing Lazy, and being partly convinc'd, that the Deputies were fitter for Government than the Principal, he abandon'd all to them; who conducting themselves by their Bestial Appetites, play'd such Pranks, that both Governours and Deputies were all remov'd, and the
Bear-Garden
turn'd into a
Theatre.
Which Conduct of his puts me in mind of one
Sempronius
a
Roman
Knight, who was made Director of the
Ludi Fescennini,
a rough sort of
Bear-Garden
Drama, in use among the uncultivated
Romans,
before they were polish'd by the
Grecian
Arts; into which Employment he introduc'd three Wretches as his Deputies, who were the utter ruin of that Diversion. For thess four Persons had not among them all as much Judgment as a
Ballad maker.
And yet upon having this paultry Office conferr'd upon him,
Sempronius
most vainly and impertinently usurp'd the name of
Censor;
which coming to alarm the true
Censors,
they enquir'd into his Life, upon which finding him to be the greatest
Fourbe,
and the greatest Impostor, that had appear'd among them since the Foundation of the City, they turn'd him with Disgrace out of his Government, dismounted him, and took his Horse from him; and not contented with this, banish'd him from
Rome
it self; and upon his Departure, caus'd the same general Lustration to be made, that was us'd, when a certain boding, broad, flat, duskyfac'd Prodigy had been hooted from out the Walls.
Postscript.
IF upon perusing this piece of Painting, or upon reading, the preceeding Letters, any honest impartial Gentlemen shall say, as they did upon reading the two Former, that I ought not to enter into the private Concerns of Life; I desire them to consider, that these Letters, tho written in Prose, were design'd to be Just and Legitimate Satires; and that the private Concerns of Life are the just and adaequate Subjects of Satire, and make the chief Beauties of the ancient Satirists, that is, of
Lucilius, Horace, Persius
and
Juvenal.
The unmasking of Hypocrites is the great business of Satire, according to that of
Horace
in the first Satire of his Second Book.
—Est Lucilius ausus
Primus in hunc operis componere carmina morem,
Detrabere & pellem, nitidus quâ quisque per ora
Cederet, introrsum Turpis.—
But how is it possible, for the most part, to unmask a Hypocrite without entring into the private Concerns of Life?
Juvenal
tells us in his first Satire, that all Human Actions, all the Passions of Men, all their Desires, and all their Inclinations, are the constant Subjects of his Satire.
Quidquid agunt Homines, votum, timor, ira voluptas,
Gaudia, Discursus, nostri est farrago Libelli.
Now will any one pretend that the private Concerns of Life are not included in these Verses?
I must confess the celebrated
French
Satirist has been a little more retentive; but yet they must know very little of him, who are to be told that he sometimes enters, into the private Concerns of Life; which once more are the just and adaequate Subjects of Satire. But then the Satirist ought to take care that the Censures are always Just, and that either the Vices Satiriz'd are very Flagrant, and of pernicious Example, or the Persons egregious Hypocrites.
FINIS.