LETTER LXIV. Mr. PRESTON to Miss NANCY BLISSET.

IN this Letter I shall give you some Remarks on only one Book of the Odyssey, namely, the Seventh.

Verse 21 and 22, contain a very just Observation on the Temper of a Mob, [Page 2] and that too perhaps, in all Countries and all Ages.

Is the Epithet rude, which is applied to the Phoeacians, Verse 55, entirely re­concileable to the Character given of them at Verse 12, in the last Book?

From Verse 110 to 175, is a most charming Description of the Palace and Garden of Alcinous. Does it not appear to you that Ovid has borrowed the De­scription of the Palace of the Sun, in the second Book of his Metamorphoses, from this Place?

Verse 224. Here is a Passage very ex­pressive of that Hospitality you have re­marked and admired so much.

[Page 3]From Verse 265 to 275, we have a great Resemblance to the Holy Scrip­tures. One of the Apostles commands us ‘to relieve Strangers, in-as-much as such have entertained Angels.’ We see it was so with Lot, Abraham, Ja­cob, &c. and further it is said, that God conversed with Moses, Face to Face, as a Man does with his Friend.

At Verse 295, are the two Lines with which the Critics have found great Fault in the Translation, as being too mean. The Expression, "craving Bowels," is rather beneath Mr. Pope's usual Style. ‘ Ver. 370. All Night I slept oblivious of my Care.’ Methinks forgetful of my Care, would, from its Simplicity, have suited the Sub­ject better.

[Page 4]I have done with this Book, so shall release you from Criticisms at present, and change to another Subject, in which I would recommend a little of that Hos­pitality we so admire in the Antients. I desire, nay insist, that you will prepare a little genial Board for your Birth-Day, as I shall do. Invite your Mama, your Aunt, and any other Friend you like; and I beg you will not suffer any thing to be abridged, on this Occasion, to save a few Shillings. I know your Turn for Oeconomy, but remit the Strictness of it for once. Besides the Pleasure it brings, it may answer some useful Ends. It will give you an Opportunity to shew your own Address, as Mistress of the Feast, display your Respect to your Pa­rents in an amiable Light, and, at the [Page 5] same Time, gratify your affectionate Sen­sations. I am a Friend to little Indul­gencies of this Kind, when confined within proper Restrictions, and not too often repeated. Thus directed, they come within the Compass of Virtue, other­wise they extend to Profusion.

Pray do as I desire; so wishing you many happy Birth-Days,

LETTER LXV.

I Hope this will be delivered into your Hands to-morrow, being your Birth-Day, when you are with your Friends, or preparing to be with them. I wish you many such Days, and that they may be happy. Give my humble Service to all that are with you when this comes to Hand, or that are to be with you in the Evening.

I went to the Inn myself yesternight, and gave Mrs. Bew very peremptory Di­rections about your Box, so I hope you will receive it safe.

[Page 7]You are now entering into a new Year of your Life. The best Advice I can give you, is to be thankful to God for the past, and shew your Gratitude by using the coming Year well. As you are going to be chearful with your Friends, I will not detain you long.

You have read of Pacolet's wooden Horse, who, on turning a Pin, flew through the Air with his Rider, and went a great Journey in a few Moments. I could wish for such an Horse to-morrow Night, and after spending four or five Hours with you, to mount and come back here; but as such a Wish is vain, I must even be content to want that Pleasure, and within two or three Weeks make use of a wooden Coach, instead of [Page 8] a wooden Horse, and travel over Land, instead of flying through the Air.

I hope you will spare so much Time to-morrow Evening as to write me, if it is no more than two or three Lines; and in the next Letter after that, I must have the History of this Evening, your Birth-Day, and Sunday. Salute your your Mama, Aunt, and Mrs. M—, with a Kiss for me. Again I wish you a haypy Birth-Day, and many more; and am, my dear Ange,

P. S. Remember what I told you in my last. I insist upon it that your Birth-Day is not kept in a poor niggardly Way. Remember, I insist upon it. Adieu, ma chere Petite!

LETTER LXVI. ^*

HAving an Opportunity of sending this by a private Hand, I could not omit to wish you all Health and Happiness on your Birth-Day. May you [Page 10] know your Duty to God, your Neigh­bour, and to yourself, and practise what you know! May you enjoy a moderate Share of the good Things of this Life, have Health of Body and Content of Mind, and then you need no more!

LETTER LXVII.

JUST now I received yours of the 29th, and was about to be much surprized that you was so long in answering all the Letters I wrote you last Week. I was [Page 11] suddenly taken ill on your Birth-Day, and though I had engaged myself to pass the Evening at a Gentleman's Chambers in Baliol College, yet I could not sup, but after drinking your Health, and two or three sparing Glasses more, I was forced to quit the Company and return home. I kept my Bed two Days, and have not been out since. Though somewhat better now, I still continue ill. Pray write me soon again, and let me know how your Mama does. I shall be sure to acquaint you how I am. I dare not venture to write farther; it is with Pain I have written this.

I have made Remarks on the eighth Odyssey, but must defer them till my next.

[Page 12]My Spirits are low. Your Letters cheer, as well as delight me.

LETTER LXVIII.

I AM not yet quite recovered, and have been out but once, to wit, this Day ^*, to Chapel, it being a high Festival, and the Sacrament administered.

[Page 13]I am mightily pleased with your Ob­servations on Rochefaucault. I shall make some few Remarks here on the 8th and 9th Odyssey, if I can get through them; but I am doubtful of my Abi­lity, as I yet cannot endure much Ap­plication.

From the Beginning of the 8th Book, we find the great Duties that were most highly esteemed in antient Times, were Prayer, Praises, Hospitality, and Sacri­fices, attended with Music.

Though the Resentment of Ulysses at Verse 183, is very just, yet surely he car­ries it too far.

Mr. Pope mentions the Opening of the 9th Book to have given great Joy to the [Page 14] Critics, who wished to find Fault with so great an Author. I wonder what provoked them. Ulysses only animad­verts on the happy State of the Phaeacians, which is extremely just, and by no Means inconsistent with Virtue. To me there­fore all Apologies to soften the Matter are entirely useless.

Verse 46. Quaere, what is meant by the Expression, a like Reward?

I am at a Loss to know why the Translator makes use of this Expression here, the genial Rite.

The Speech of Ulysses to Polypheme, be­ginning at Verse 307, is excellent. The last eight Lines are beautifully translated, [Page 15] and the Matter of them highly pious and instructive.

Verse 495. I think all this fort outrée, notwithstanding all that Mr. Pope has said to make it pass; as well as the whole Story of [...], or Noman.

By all Means let me know how your Mama and Aunt do. Write soon, no Mat­ter on what Subject. I would hear any thing from you, though ever so trifling. As drowning Men catch at Straws for Relief, so dispirited Folks catch at Tri­fles for Comfort; not that your Letters can ever be such to me.

LETTER LXIX.

I JUST now received yours of the 5th. I am somewhat better, but not en­tirely recovered.

If you chuse Milton or Virgil for the Subject of our ensuing Correspondence, I shall be pleased; but if you like better to write such Thoughts as occur to you on any Author you happen to be reading at the Time of writing, I shall be very well satisfied. It is true there is a noble Fund in Milton and Virgil, but I would not keep you always confined to one [Page 17] Kind of Study. The Book of Job, the Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, the Wis­dom of Solomon, and of the Son of Sirach, supply large and rich Funds for Observa­tions; but take your own way, and please yourself.

I should not have written you till I had read four or five more Books of the Odyssey, unless you had been impa­tient; and as the Post is just going out, I shall not add more here, nor even transcribe my Remarks on two Books of the Odyssey, that are ready; so you will probably get five together.

I may see you about this Day fort­night, or perhaps sooner. In the mean Time, keep yourself employed. Write [Page 18] about something, no Matter what. The Mind requires Exertion, and it is as liable to be disordered through Inactivity, as the Body.

LETTER LXX.

IT is worth Observation, that Homer every now and then scatters short moral Reflections as he goes along: for Example, Book x. Verse 29. ‘Rare Gift! —but oh! what Gift to Fools avails?’ [Page 19] No Wonder indeed he is so pregnant with them, since Virtue is the great End of his Work.

The Interview between Ulysses and his Mother, in Hell, Book xi. Verse 190, is exceeding fine.

At Verse 423, we have a new Instance of the Hospitality of the Antients.

Verse 444. In spite of all that is said in Defence of Homer here, I cannot help thinking all this Speech very mean, and unworthy of Ulysses.

The Description of Hercules, at Verse 747, is very awful.

[Page 20]I am of Opinion, that if you take the whole Account of Ulysses's Descent into Hell, and compare it with that of Aeneas in Virgil's sixth Aeneid, you will find the former fall infinitely short of the latter; than which nothing, sure, was ever writ­ten with greater Mastery of Fancy and Judgment. It is worth your while to compare them.

Now we are to leave the Phoeacians, and I cannot, for my Heart, think they were so worthless a People, as the Com­mentators would make them. Are they not kind, hospitable, and beneficent? Do they not understand the Arts of Sail­ing, Building, Gardening, Commerce, and so forth? All that can be said against them, is, that they lived luxuriously; [Page 21] and is there any Wonder that such a happy People should live so?

The Commentators excuse Homer for the strange improbable Stories he makes Ulysses tell, because he tells them to an idle, credulous, vain-glorious People. But, in my Opinion, this is no Defence, at all; for as they do not contradict his Narrations, so it is immaterial, as to the Truth of the Stories, who he told them to.

Virgil, in my Opinion, has not only happily imitated the Story of Elpenor, in the twelfth Book of the Odyssey, but has also improved upon it. Herein the Latin seems to have an Advantage over the Greek Poet. Homer's Elpenor was a [Page 22] worthless Fellow, yet the Author treats him as a Man of great Importance. Ulysses first meets him in Hell, where there is a long Conversation between them, and, un­deserving as he was, great Care is taken about his Monument; whereas Virgil's Palinurus, besides being his chief Pilot, was a Man of Integrity and Virtue.

Verse 210. What Reason can be assign­ed why Ulysses did not stop his Ears with Wax as well as the rest? The Song of the Syrens here is admirable, and Mr. Pope has rendered it in Lines exquisitely smooth and melodious.

[Page 23]Was not this Madness in Ulysses? Yet it were Pity, had it not been; since it contains a noble Moral, in shewing us the Folly and Absurdity of disobeying the Commands of Heaven.

The People whom Homer devotes to Destruction, Verse 420, you are to ob­serve, he first prepares for it, by a pro­fane and illicit Way of performing Sa­crifice. They are going to perpetrate an impious Deed, and they address themselves to it in a profane Manner. Compare this with the Sacrifices of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and with the Of­ferings of Nabal and Abihu, who put unhallowed Fire into their Censers. See the Book of Numbers, Chap. xvi. &c. The Vengeance which overtook the Com­panions [Page 24] of Ulysses for destroying, or taking to their own Use, what was consecrated to Apollo, seems to be a general Warn­ing to Mankind, not to convert to pro­fane Uses what has been once set apart for religious Purposes.

Book xiii. Verse 35. Here is a fine Representation of Ulysses, and it is much heightened by the Simile. Had you ever been in the Country at the Time of great Labour, you would be much more sen­sible of the Strength of it; but the Just­ness speaks for itself.

Verse 270. I cannot but think that the Doubts of Ulysses, after he knew the Person who spoke to him was Pallas, are unjustifiable and unreasonable.

How very like is this Sentiment to what is frequently said in the Holy Scriptures! For Instance, ‘I will not be afraid for ten Thousands of People, that have set themselves against me round about.’ Psal. iii. Ver. 6.

At Verse 486, we have one of Homer's short moral Reflections,

We now come to the fourteenth Book, one of the most beautiful in the whole Work. This was my Favourite when I was a Boy, and has remained so ever [Page 26] since. Nothing can be more simple, na­tural, and affecting, than this Interview between Ulysses and Eumoeus. The whole indeed is such a sweet Scene of the Coun­try, and contains such a Series of Piety and Goodness, as fills the Mind with inexpressible Delight. What an exqui­site Picture does the Poet give of Eumoeus at the Opening!

Verse 146. How true, even to this Day, is the Observation which Eumoeus makes in this Place!

It appears that Homer, notwithstand­ing he has a great Respect for the Priest­hood, [Page 27] thought every Head, or Chief of a Family, was a sort of Priest in his own House, at least in case of Necessity, and this many People contend for, at this Day. Even some very learned and pious Men maintain, that, if a Society of Men were cast on some Place, where they could not have the Ordinances duly administered by a legally-admitted Cler­gyman, it were then lawful for a Lay­man to perform the sacred Functions. Something of this Nature is the Permis­sion which the Church of Rome gives to Midwives to baptize, in Cases of Ne­cessity.

Here is a Piece of Theology exactly [Page 28] correspondent to what many Christian Divines maintain.

Verse 510. Here follows a strange Con­trivance to get some Cloaths against the Rigour of the Season, which I cannot think altogether necessary, considering how humane an Host Eumoeus is de­scribed.

Mr. Pope seems to differ much in Opi­nion from Longinus about Homer, when he wrote the Odyssey. I cannot but join with Longinus, in thinking Homer was on the Decline. Though it is a charm­ing as well as instructive Composition, yet it seems to me to carry some Marks of old Age. If you have never seen Lon­ginus, I will bring one to Town. You [Page 29] may read it in a short Time. It is a small Treatise, but admirably judicious. Recall what Pope says of him in his Essay on Criticism,

The Post is just come in, but not a Syllable from you, which makes it less welcome to me. The Duke of Hamil­ton is to come here on Tuesday, which will take me off from writing you any more on Homer, for some Time; yet [Page 30] let not that hinder your writing, and give me every thing that occurs.

LETTER LXXI.

I Have now finished five Books more of the Odyssey, and my Remarks shall be as short as I can possibly make them.

Book xv. Verse 61. Here we meet another Instance of the great Hospitality of the Antients.

[Page 31]Verse 75, and some of the ensuing Lines, contain admirable Rules for good Behaviour then, for what it is now, and ever will continue. The last Line I al­lude to, namely, ‘Welcome the coming, speed the parting Guest,’ is liberally just; but then the Manner of putting it in Practice should be as deli­cate as the Precept itself.

Verse 426. What Homer here observes of dedicating a Part of a Winter-Night to Conversation, and particularly to the Re­collection of past Afflictions, is very na­tural and just.

Verse 450. To bend a Bow with tender Skill, appears to me a very odd Expression.

[Page 32]Book xvi. Verse 9. What follows here is very natural and beautiful, especially the Dogs playing so familiarly at the Re­turn of the Prince, whom they knew so well. Observe, their Behaviour was far different when Ulysses came.

Verse 144. When Telemachus has en­joined Eumoeus to announce his Return to his Mother, how beautifully affecting is the Swain's Reply!

His compassionate Concern for the Grand-father's dejected Situation, joined to the Readiness wherewith he undertakes to carry glad Tidings to Penelope, is the [Page 33] Result of the most humane and benevo­lent Mind.

This Notion prevails among Country Peo­ple, at least in Scotland, to this Day. They fancy the Dogs are sensible when a good or an evil Spirit comes into a House.

Verse 204. Ulysses discovering himself to his Son affords us a very fine and pleasing Scene; yet I think it much in­ferior to that of Joseph making himself known to his Brethren, I confess.

[Page 34] What a Pack of unfeeling Wretches must they be, who cavilled at this In­cident of the faithful Dog! All that Pope says on it does Honour to his own Hu­manity and Discernment.

The Power of curing Wounds by Charms or Incantations, is still believed by many common People.

On Sunday I hope to send you some more Observations, and finish with the Odyssey by the Time I come to Town, which perhaps will not be before Wed­nesday. You see my Remarks now come within a very small Compass. It would be as endless, as unnecessary, to animad­vert on every Beauty. I shall, at all Events, write again on Sunday, and [Page 35] let you know, to an Hour, when I come to Town. I would certainly have come on Monday, but the Duke of Ha­milton does not go from this till Saturday; after that I must go see Lady Susan Keck, the Duke's Aunt, who lives twelve Miles from this; from her I return to Oxford, and thence set off for London.

Do not neglect to write me. The Duke took his Degree of Doctor of Laws yesterday; there was a vast Crowd, and the whole University met.—How does your Mama?

P. S. You did not write me if you wish to see Longinus. Your Mama's Letter is just come to Hand.

LETTER LXXII.

ON Sunday I received a Letter from you, of no Date, which I impute to the Hurry you were in when you wrote it. If the Duke of Hamilton had not been here, I had seen you before now. He went away on Saturday; I accom­panied him to Henley, about 18 Miles from this City, stayed there all Night, and returned hither on Sunday. My Visit to Tew, the Place where his Grace's Aunt resides, was to have been made [Page 37] this Day, but is deferred till my Return from London; so I shall see you sooner than I thought, and perhaps may be able to tell you the exact Time, before I seal this Letter.

The Duke of Hamilton has no Occa­sion for the Degree of Doctor of Laws, but it is an Honour the University pays him. It is customary to confer dif­ferent Degrees of Honour, to those who study therein. That of Batchelor of Arts, may be taken after having resided so long a Time, and undergoing such Examina­tions as are appointed. In the same Manner, Students may be advanced to the Degree of Master of Arts. After­wards they can be promoted to a Batche­lorship in one of the three great Profes­sions, [Page 38] Divinity, Law, or Physic; and after that they may be made Doctors in those Professions, according to the dif­ferent Studies they have pursued. But sometimes these Degrees are conferred, without waiting the ordinary Time, or passing the Examinations, Honoris Gratiâ, that is to say, to do Honour to the Per­son who receives them. This was the Case with the Duke of Hamilton, he hav­ing been greatly beloved, esteemed, and respected, for his Behaviour, while at this University. I hope I have now sa­tisfied your Curiosity; but I had almost forgot to tell you that sometimes a Doc­torship in a fourth Profession is given, namely, in Music; but this is not held, in any wise, equal to the others.

[Page 39]I have now taken my Place in the Stage-Coach for Friday next, so if it please God, I hope to see you about eight o'Clock at Night, on Saturday, at farthest.

LETTER LXXIII.

I Arrived safe here yesternight, between seven and eight, nothing having hap­pened worth mentioning, except that I [Page 40] was mortified with a great deal of imper­tinent Chat in the Coach. We were forced to drive two Miles out of the Way to set down two Boys at their Mo­ther's Door. One Passenger grumbled much at it. I asked him, whether he would not, in the Parent's Situation, wish for such a Courtesy, at the trifling Inconvenience of a short Delay to the Passengers, and in fine Weather? He received the Reproof in Silence, though he did not seem by his Looks to thank me for it. There are more such unfo­ciable Persons to be met, who prefer the Indulgence of their own peculiar Hu­mour, to any essential Gratification or Ser­vice they can bestow on others. Poor Peo­ple! they are composed of very indifferent Principles, or have been very ill taught.

[Page 41]I have found all my Friends here well. No Revolutions or News in our littte Society since I left it.

I shall now finish the Odyssey; but as I have several Things to do and settle, and Letters to write, you may perhaps not hear from me again for two or three Days. As soon as I have finished the Odyssey, we shall think of something else to furnish out our epistolary Conversation. You know no Post goes from this Place on Saturday, nor arrives here on Mon­day, so you cannot expect a Letter from from me again till Tuesday at soonest, and it may be later; yet let not that pre­vent your writing.

[Page 42]At the Beginning of my Letter, I men­tioned impertinent Chat. I will give you one Instance. There was one Fel­low in the Coach, who told us, three Times, a long, dull, and consequently tedious Story, of his having been at the taking of a Highwayman; but that, like a prudent Soldier, he reserved his Fire till he had Occasion for it. When he had told it us once, he took care to re­peat it as often as any new Passenger came into the Coach, which produced, on the whole, a third Narration. He described the Highwayman's Person and Dress, his Horse, his own Horse, the whole Chace, his personal Intrepidity, the taking, Trial, and Condemnation of the unhappy Rogue, with a Thousand more contingent Circumstances equally [Page 43] important and entertaining. How na­tural is it to repeat, as well as to aggran­dize Matters, which we think may re­dound to our own Credit! The Story still buzzes in my Ears, and haunts me like a Ghost; but if I dwell upon it any longer, I shall become as troublesome as the Relater, so I break off.

LETTER LXXIV.

JUST now I received yours, which was very acceptable. My first was under Cover; you'll see it is not franked; [Page 44] the second was sent tout droit, which is the Reason why they were both delivered at once. The Story of the poor young Lady makes me melancholy.

I informed you, some Time since, that the Proverbs, Ecclesiasticus, Ecclesiastes, and the Wisdom of the Son of Sirach, would furnish us with Materials for writing. You cannot read more profitable Books, believe me; and if you bestow a due Share of Attention and Reflection on them, you will find them exceedingly pleasant, as well as profitable.

Let me know if you have been with Lady W— yet. Be not too bashful; yet withal, never lose that graceful Modesty, which is the greatest Ornament of your Sex. Never give yourself Airs; never [Page 45] press to shew away, as they call it. Hate and detest Affectation, foolish Pride, and Vanity. Be affable and courteous to all, be inwardly familiar with few. Neither harm nor speak ill of any one, and be not concerned for Fame and Admiration.

Observe these Rules, which, though few, if well observed, will shew you to the World in that Light, wherein it is your Desire and Interest to appear, with­out your giving yourself any Trouble about it.

LETTER LXXV.

ONCE more for the Odyssey. I have got through three Books more, on which I have made but few Obser­vations.

Book xx. Verse 55. The Complaint of Minerva, in this Place, is analogous to that which we find so often made by our Saviour in the Gospel, O ye of little Faith, &c.

Verse 120. Ulysses desiring a Sign to confirm his Faith, in this and the two [Page 47] following Books, is exactly conformable to many Places in Scripture. The Story of Ahaz, as well as of others, will suf­ficiently prove it.

Book xxi. Verse 10. Is it not too much affected to call Ivory, Elephant? It is done, however, in other Places as well as in this.

Verse 274. The Suitors impute their Impotence in bending the Bow of Ulys­ses, to their Profanation of a holy Day. Whether it was a fictitious or a real Ex­cuse, it shews at least that Irreligion was held a very atrocious Crime in Homer's Time.

Verse 427. Ulysses turning and examin­ing the Bow, to prove if it was decayed [Page 48] or worm-eaten, amid the Taunts of the Suitors, and his bending it, compared to a Musician winding up the Strings of his Instrument, is most admirably fine. The Notes here are well worth reading.

Verse 448. This is an exquisite Com­parison. The Twang of the String, short and sharp, like the shrill Note of a Swal­low, was equally a Mark of Vigour and Address.

Book xxii. Verse 367. All that follows here, relative to Phemius and Medon, their Supplication, the Interposition of Tele­machus, and the Motives which induced Ulysses to spare them, excite both our Pity and Admiration. The Idea which Phemius gives of Poets and Poetry, is [Page 49] one of the finest that can be conceived, and worthy to be imprinted on every Memory.

Verse 425. Here is a most just and beautiful Comparison. The Situation of the Fishes, so poetically rendered by Mr. Pope, must touch every compassionate Mind;

[Page 50]I must return to Verse 137, of this Book. Read the Note upon it, and tell me if you don't think the Caution of placing the Bow out of the Reach of the Suitors was needless, when none of them could bend it.

My next shall finish the Odyssey.

LETTER LXXVI.

I Shall in this close what I have to say on the Odyssey.

Book xxiii. Verse 13. Here are four Lines which are very consonant to what [Page 51] we frequently meet in the holy Writings, particularly in the 19th Chapter Isaiah; "Surely the Princes of Zoan are Fools, &c."

Verse 81, and some following Lines, contain Sentiments very analogous to many in the Book of Job. It is worth your while to compare them with the following Chapters, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, which indeed are worth the most atten­tive Perusal and Remarks.

Verse 320. This Conversation between Ulysses and Penelope, how naturally beau­tiful! In all Degrees of Life we may hourly trace the same Consequences of a long Absence, whether between Man and Wife, or Friend and Friend. The [Page 52] Episode of Mercury conducting the Souls of the Suitors to Hell, at the Opening of the 24th Book, is undoubtedly fine; though after all that can be said in De­fence of it, to me it appears brought in (to use a common Phrase) by Head and Shoulders. It seems as if the Poet had the Character of Achilles so much at Heart, that he thought it not sufficient­ly compleated, without this finishing Stroke.

Verse 224. Homer, you observe, takes every Opportunity to pay Honour to Poets and Poetry. These two Lines,

and the six preceding, are so strong, and at the same Time so charming an Incen­tive [Page 53] to Virtue, that I cannot but think a Woman, who has a laudable Ambi­tion and Love of Virtue, must be greatly confirmed by them, in a virtuous and honourable Course of Life.

Verse 249. I cannot endure Pope's bald Expression of the old Man, for so he makes Ulyssses stile his Father. In Homer it is the Father, which has undeniably much more Decorum, Respect, and Af­fection.

I have nothing further to add to what has been said in the Notes on the Close of this great Work. I shall endeavour to get you Kennel's Translation of Ho­race's Judgment on the I [...]iad and Odyssey. All other Translations of that Passage are bad. His only is tolerable.

[Page 54]I scarce need remark to you that Vir­gil copied much from Homer, particu­larly in the sixth and last Book; but methinks it would be entertaining to compare the Passages of two such great Poets, and two such fine Translators as Pope and Dryden.

I have received only one Letter from you since I left London, yet this is the fifth I have written to you.

LETTER LXXVII.

THE whole Hall is gone on a Merry-making, this Day, into the Coun­try, except the Principal (Dr. King) and myself. I have therefore laid hold of this Occasion to send you The Furniture of a Lady's Mind, and Extracts from another Poem, by Dr. Swift. I think them both instructive and pleasing. In my last, you know, I enclosed some select Passages from his Grizette. I transcribed as much of it as I thought worthy your Notice. This Author, excellent as he is, often mixes a Something very gross, even in [Page 56] his wittiest Poems ^*. When you have read those Passages, tell me if you do not think it a most judicious Distinction between affected and real Wit, Wit mingled with ill Manners, instead of that Decorum and Modesty, which best becomes your Sex.

Swift did not think so ill of Women as he wrote. His Motives were to wean them from such Faults, as he thought them most subject to. There is a good deal of Affinity between the Grizette, and the Furniture, &c. I will send you two or three little Poems more by the same Author, and shall be glad to have [Page 57] your Opinion of them; I mean, when you are at Leisure, for I do not desire to oppress you.

Pray put the enclosed into the Penny-Post.

LETTER LXXVIII.

JUST now I have the Pleasure of of yours. You thank me for what does not deserve Thanks. The Picture was drawn to my Hand, and I thought [Page 58] it a Picture worth your looking at; though I assure you, I had not the least Idea that it resembled you. Had I thought so, I should not have been at so much Pains as to transcribe it, merely to mor­tify you. Yet your Application may turn to some Account: it may serve as a Hint or Notice to shew you what you are to shun, or as a Beacon set up to warn you of the Rocks and Shelves, whereon many of your Sex have been shipwrecked.

I now send you two Songs, leaving you to find out where their Value lies; and when you have wrote me your Thoughts of them, I will then let you know wherein I think their Merit consists. I do not know if ever you read the Pro­gress [Page 59] of Love; if not, I will send it to you. You have herewith the New Ballad of New Similes.

It is really true, that Sir Alexander Mur­ray is dead. He died at Edinburgh, on the 18th of May.

My Compliments to your Aunt and Mama.

LETTER LXXIX.

JUST now I received yours. Your Observations are very just. The whole Song consists of a Heap of fine [Page 60] smooth Words, put together either with­out any Meaning at all, or ending in downright Nonsense, after the Manner of many of our modern Love-Songs. I would have you observe too that there are no less than two Similes in so short a Poem, which is very ordi­nary in our Love-Songs, though very unnatural; and, besides that they have no Relation to the Subject, they are very absurd in themselves.

The other Ballad is a very severe Sa­tire on the Gentlemen of the Army. The Beauty of it consists in its appear­ing so very serious, and being so exceed­ingly ridiculous. I beg you will par­ticularly observe the two last Stanzas, save one. Here the personated Officer [Page 61] accuses himself both with Cowardice and Ignorance of Letters. Mark how ri­diculous a Fall he makes in Stanza the third. ‘Alas! I never thought a Priest would please your Palate;’ This seems to be grave and serious; ob­serve what follows; ‘Besides, I'll hold a Groat, he'll put you in a Ballad.’ How serious does he appear, when he says, ‘It fills my Heart with Woe, &c.’ and afterwards calls a Churchman being by the Ladies preferred to an Officer, "the Growth of Corruption, &c." It [Page 62] is, all through, a most admirable Satire, and the Humour is exceedingly well hit off. Then it is calculated for the Tune of Patie's Mill. If you heard it sung to that Tune, you would find it set off mightily; it being a sweet com­plaining Scotch Tune, the Captain's Complaint, if we may so call it, would thereby become still more ridiculous.

Charles Murray does not succeed to the Title, but a Son of David Murray, who was an elder Brother than Charles.

A Campaign is the Warfare of one Season; and to open the Campaign, im­plies no more than to begin the military Operations of such or such a Year.

[Page 63]When I send you a Production writ­ten with Spirit, Wit, and Judgment, either for or against your Sex, you are to understand the Contents as so many Hints to you, what you are to shun, and what you are to pursue. I have here­with enclosed three very, severe Pieces, but do not fancy I am drawing your Picture. I am only offering that to your View, from which you may discern Beauty from Ugliness. The next three I shall send will be much more pleasing; but do not be so vain as to imagine them intended to represent you neither; though I trust you come much nearer these, than what I send you now. I shall give you my Sentiments of these three Portraits in my next.

P. S. I don't desire you to write oftner than you like, but consider well what you write.

Adieu!

LETTER LXXX.

I Suppose you have, before this comes to your Hand, formed a Judgment of the three Ladies I sent to wait upon you; I mean Sylvia, Artimesia, and Phryne. You may learn something from the Con­versation of the two first; but as for Ma­dam Phryne, I cannot say you can im­prove by her; and indeed, but that she has a little Wit in her Conversation, I [Page 65] had not sent her to you at all. Sylvia is a poor Lady, who struggles between Virtue and Vice, and is really not so bad as she would appear. She has taken up a false Notion of the Means of recom­mending herself to the Esteem of Man­kind. She thinks ill-natured Wit, Cen­sure, and Raking, are the Ingredients for the Composition of a fine Lady, yet her Heart recoils every now and then. How many poor Women have lost them­selves through this foolish Notion! There is nothing more dangerous for any Per­son, especially a Woman, than to set up some wrong Quality as the distinguish­ing Mark of her Character. A Coward perhaps sets up for a Bully, a chearful Woman for a Prude, or a modest, good-natured Girl takes it into her Head to [Page 66] be a Termagant. Now besides being unnatural from quitting their proper Characters, they are all alike full of Af­fectation, than which nothing is more detestable, except downright Inconti­nence. Artimesia is a Prude, but a mas­culine Prude; she affects Learning, but neglects Decency, Cleanliness, and Mo­desty. If I were with you, I think I could name three Persons, with whom the Characters agree very well, though I could not tell you the exact Persons the Poet meant.

I have herewith sent you a fourth Character, which is not so bad as the former; for I think it very natural, as well as excusable, for People, especially Women, to talk of their Children, Family [Page 67] Affairs, and so forth; and still more so in Country Places, where they meet their Neighbours only now and then. Hence I think the Doctor rather too severe, un­less he barely meant that Women should not carry this sort of Discourse to Ex­cess.

I have now sent you five or six bad Characters of your Sex, to which you may add whatever you may have read beside. Congreve furnishes many; name­ly, Mrs. Fondlewife ⁽¹⁾, Mrs. Frail ⁽²⁾, Mrs. Foresight ⁽³⁾, Lady Froth ⁽⁴⁾, Lady Pliant ⁽⁵⁾, Lady Touchwood ⁽⁶⁾, Lady Wishfort ⁽⁷⁾, Mrs. Marwood ⁽⁸⁾, &c. [Page 68] &c. and even his virtuous Characters are worth observing for their Failings; for Example, the Affectation of Belin­da ⁽¹⁾ and Millamant ⁽²⁾, and the Wild­ness of Angelica ⁽³⁾.

Some Critics have asserted that Con­greve has drawn none but vicious Cha­racters, but I think they are mistaken. Cynthia ⁽⁴⁾ is an Exception. He has many other beautiful Characters, not faultless indeed. That Writer was too great a Master of Nature, to draw ‘Faultless Monsters that the World ne'er saw,’ as the Duke of Buckingham calls them. We must not forget Ben Johnson's Lady [Page 69] Wou'd-be ⁽¹⁾, and Otway's Lady Dunce ⁽²⁾. These bad Characters (which weak un­discerning People have condemned as [...]mproper for Representation, and thence have endeavoured to decry the Utility of the Drama in general) have all their good Tendencies. There is something to be culled out of every one worth ob­serving and shunning; and those who say that faulty Characters should not be produced on the Stage, might with an equal Degree of Propriety assert, that there should be no Shade in a Picture.

In my next I will send you some pleas­ [...]ng Characters from the same Author; but in the mean Time (by the way of Music between the Acts) I give you some [Page 70] Extracts from Dr. Swift's Poem on his own Death. You will find in it a great deal of Wit, Humour, good Sense, and true Judgment of Mankind, and the Faults of both Sexes most humourously exposed and ridiculed.

Perhaps you may have read this Poem already, notwithstanding, attend to it once more. Much Good may be derived from it Vice and Folly appear in so many Shapes, that it is worth our while to study as many and as various Cha­racters of faulty Men and Women, as we can find, in order to warn us against them, in whatsoever Shape they may appear, or attack us. I shall refer a Translation of a Passage of this Tenden­cy from the noble Historian, Livy, to [Page 71] my next Letter; but observe, when I said that we should study as many of these Characters as we can, I meant to im­ply, if they are well-drawn; for, if they are not, we may mislead and deceive our­selves.

If Affairs will permit, I could wish you to come and stay a while here this Summer; but then you ought to bring a Recommendation with you to some Fa­mily here, (for indeed I am not acquaint­ed with any) otherwise, I fear your Time may go off very heavily.

LETTER LXXXI.

I JUST now received yours of yester­day. I am perfectly of your Opinion about the Verses on the Dean's Death; and especially of those four Lines, which are so lively a Representation of what usually happens on such Occasions.

I have one Word more to say about Artimesia. It is not a vicious Character, only it includes a Want of Decency, and a total Neglect of all the Duties of Life, for the Affectation of Learning. If I remember right, Pope imputes much the same Charge to Mrs. Haywood and [Page 73] Centlivre. I have said thus much, for the Sake of quoting you four Lines from the admirable Boileau, which I think much a-propos.

I have not much more Time for writ­ing at present, but on Sunday I will send you many Things to make Amends for what I now defer. I shall not send you the pleasing Characters I mentioned till then; but to recompense your Pa­tience, I enclose the Progress of Love, with which I believe you will be much pleas­ed. I likewise convey you some Lines [Page 74] of Mr. Pope on the Birth-Day of Mrs. Blunt, a Lady whom he admires. There you will see another faulty Character drawn in the Lines I have marked; Phyllis is another of the same Species; yet these, and those I sent you formerly, are all different from each other.

I have not Time to say more, so [...].

P. S. I shall continue to send you occa­sionally some more of the Dean's comic Pieces.

LETTER LXXXII.

I Here enclose you two Poems; in one of them the estimable and unbecom­ing Qualifications of your Sex are set in Opposition to each other, by Way of Contrast. How lasting are those of the first Sort, how fleeting those of the lat­ter! Beauty and all external Advantages are ingeniously compared to Fruit in­grafted on the Stock of an annual Plant, which indeed makes a luxuriant Shoot, but is soon gone. I presume you know that an annual Plant continues only one Year, such as Fruits, Vegetables, and [Page 76] Corn of all Kinds. Those which last many Years, as large Trees, we call Perennials.

In the other Poem the Dean pursues Epictetus's Notion of Things in our own Power, such as Virtue and Truth. He makes small Account of Beauty, Shape, Complexion, and such Qualities as we cannot procure to ourselves; but Honour, Chastity, Decency, Integrity, and all within our own Power to attain, he places in a most estimable Light.

Ovid, in his Art of Love, which I be­lieve you have by you, or at least have read, finely pursues the same Train of Ideas, both in his two first Books, which he wrote to instruct the Men, and in his [Page 77] third, which he calculated to regulate the Conduct of Women.

There is something exceeding singular in the Humour of both Poems. In Stella's Birth-Day he continues the Strain he be­gan with, in talking of her. He then puts these in Opposition, and, as it were, Foils to her, as if they were really Signs. Witness those four most humorous Lines,

I have many more entertaining Pieces for you of the Dean's, such as Mary the Cookmaid's Letter to Dr. Sheridan, and two Bal­lads; [Page 78] the one stiled Quadrille, the other Molly Mog, which I will send you at some future Time, if you tell me in your next Letter that you have not seen them. I do not think it a Trouble to transcribe a Piece of any Length, provided I am assured you reap either Instruction or Delight from it; but both these united ought to be the Result of Reading. If you do not acquire this Advantage, the Fault, I should conceive, must be in my wrong Choice of Materials. You are docile and quick; and with a Person of your Talents, Hints and transient Obser­vations, delivered in this light easy Mode of a Letter, will go further than all the set formal Rules for teaching, that ever were laid down.

[Page 79]Till I send you the above, you shall have Prometheus, written against Wood and his Halfpence. It is very full of Wit. I give it you therefore now by way of Relief, and at some future Time you shall have his favourable Characters of Women.

I think it necessary to premise some Account of the above-mentioned Poem, which possibly you are a Stranger to.

A Man, whose Name was Wood, ob­tained a Patent from King George I. to make Halfpenny Pieces of base Metal, which were to be current in Ireland. This Project would have drained that poor Kingdom of all the good Money; but the Dean, under the Name of M. B. [Page 80] Drapier, wrote such smart Letters and Poems, sometimes serious and sometimes ludicrous, as to raise a Resentment against Wood, that abolished his Scheme. The Nation would not receive any of his Coin, and the Coiner was in Danger of being torn in Pieces. From that Time, the Dean was looked on as the Deliverer of his Country.

You talk of going to Richmond for a few Days. You must stay a Week abroad at least, otherwise it is not worth your while to go. During your Excursion, you should go by Water to Hampton Court, see that Palace, the famous Cartoons of Ra­phael, and the Beauties of King William's Court. Then I would recommend to you to walk through the Park, to view the [Page 81] Cascades, from thence to Ham-House, and so return to Richmond.

I give you this Advice, because I wish that every thing you undertake, even a Scheme of Dissipation, should answer some useful End. A Survey of fine Paint­ing feeds the Mind, by enlarging the Fancy; the Walks and Cascades shew what human Art is capable of; and even a Meadow or common Field are Sources of Learning, Piety, and Admira­tion, in an attentive and well-directed Mind.

My humble Duty to your Mama and Aunt.

LETTER LXXXIII.

I Have your Letter of the 14th, but where has it been? It was not put into the Post till yesternight, for the Post-Mark bears the 16th Day of the Month, the Letter itself is dated the 7th, and I have only received it this Day. Here is an Interval of nine Days. However, now that it is come at last, I am very well pleased with it. It is written very clean and genteel. It has the Appearance of coming from a Gentle­woman. People are not in general suf­ficiently aware how much they expose [Page 83] themselves to Censure or Ridicule, by a wrong or careless Manner of acquitting themselves in trifling Affairs. A neat or a slovenly Disposition may be known as well in the Folding and Address of a Let­ter, as by personal Acquaintance.

Your Thoughts and Reflections are entirely just, and prettily expressed, en­tirely of a Piece with the Neatness of the writing, so that (if I may use the Expres­sion) I love both the Soul and Body of your Letter.

I here send you Prometheus, and Part of a Song, wherein there is a pretty Con­trast of three young Ladies. In my next Letter I propose sending you three Poems, all written in Favour of the Ladies, to [Page 84] make Amends for the disagreeable Pic­tures I shewed you before. After these you shall have Mary the Cook-Maid, and Quadrille, with some Things out of Ho­race; which, although the Translation is not dressed in the best Poetry in the World, will, in Respect to the Sentiment, I dare say, give you much Delight.

P. S. There is one Passage in the Poem of Prometheus, which requires Explana­tion. It is this following Line, ‘Venus was brib'd to let it pass.’ [Page 85] The Dutchess of Munster was meant by Venus, who was bribed by Wood to get the Patent passed by the King.

LETTER LXXXIV.

I Never heard of that Song of Stella and Flavia, which you say is now so much in Vogue. I wish you would get me a Copy of it. I have at last sent the beau­tiful Characters I promised, and hope you will like them. I leave you to find out the Beauties in the Extract, and the Lady at Court; but I must have a Word or two about Biddy Floyd, which I dare say you have seen long before now.

[Page 86]The Humour, it is true, is whimsi­cal, but exceeding just. You see it is given by way of Receipt, and carried on pretty much in the Stile of common Receipts for making Jellies or Conserves. In the first Place, he gives you the essen­tial Qualities, and then points out the Faults which are apt to grow up with them, and from which those Qualities ought to be separated. For Example, he says, that ‘Candour, Innocence, and Good-nature,’ should be picked clean from ‘Demureness, Aukwardness, and Coyness;’ the Seasoning or Pickle to those fine Qua­lities consists of ‘Good Breeding, Wit, Air, and decent Pride,’ cleansed from ‘Coquetry, Affectation, Pertness, and Vanity.’

[Page 87]This you must allow to be very apt and judicious, perfectly in the Stile of common Receipts. For Instance now,

To preserve Apples, you must sepa­rate the Fruit from ‘The Peel, the Stalk, the Core, and Seeds,’ you must then make use of ‘The finest Sugar free from all Dross;’ and during the Process, to clear off the Scum as it rises, and so forth.

This is all as instructive as entertain­ing; and I do think, my dear Nancy, that every young Woman should always carry this Receipt to make a Beauty about with her. The Female that is seasoned, and preserved in this Manner, take my Word for it, will be a Beauty in the Eyes [Page 88] of all sensible Men and Women, though Jove, in mixing up the Composition, has not, perhaps, employed his finest Clay.

In my next I will send you the Quid­nuncs; it is, in my Opinion, a fine Tale, full of Humour, and carries with it a very useful Moral.

LETTER LXXXV.

HAVE you an Inclination for Molly Mog, or the Letter to Mr. John Moore about Worms? They are both di­verting.

[Page 89]You have now read the Journal of a modern fine Lady. It sets forth the foolish unprofitable Manner in which many La­dies pass, or rather waste their Time, in so lively a Strain, that I think you should read it often, and that with great Atten­tion. Not that I mean to imply any immediate Necessity you have for it; but though you do not stand in need of it by way of Remedy, it might serve to carry about as an Amulet or Charm; a kind of Preservative against the Evils it is calculated to cure.

Livy, the great Roman Historian, says, the Use of History is to teach us what we are to shun, and what we are to imi­taee. This ought to be the great End of Poetry as well as History. And Horace, [Page 90] who was one of the most judicious Poets that ever lived in any Age or Country, tells us, this Instruction is to be attained from a Mixture of the utile with the dulce, that is, of the useful with the pleasant. Now in all the little Poems I have sent you, I think there is this Mixture; and they likewise answer the End prescribed by Livy, they ‘teach what we are to shun, and what to imitate.’

Horace's golden Rule of utile dulci, was never more properly applied than when it was made the Motto of a Thea­tre; since the Stage, under suitable Re­gulations, is most capable of answering the Intent. The greatest moral Writers can only prescribe Rules for a Rectitude of Conduct and Decorum of Behaviour; [Page 91] the Stage shews you the Beauty and Force of those Rules, when put into Practice. It moreover answers the great Purpose and Use which Livy ascribes to History. It shews ‘what to shun, and what to imitate,’ more immediately and ac­curately than any Historian whatsoever is capable of doing.

I enclose the Quidnuncs. I think there is not any thing necessary to subjoin, by way of Note, except to tell you that the Duke of Orleans was Regent of France in this King's Minority. He was a very great Man, and died when I was in France, in the Year 1722.

I should be glad to know exactly when you set out for Richmond, because I [Page 92] think I can provide you a very agreeable Companion in the literary Way. It is a Poem called The Alley. It describes all inconvenient and disagreeable Circum­stances, which are met in the pleasant-situated Town and Villages on the Banks of the Thames. It would be an Enter­tainment to you any where, and at any Time; but you will be much more sen­sible of the Beauties, when you are passing through those Places. I therefore shall not send it, till you tell me that you are about to set forward.

You shall have two or three little di­verting Poems to-morrow.

LETTER LXXXVI.

I Send you herewith a small Collection of Epigrammatical Poems; the Beauty of this Kind of writing consists in a cer­tain Point, or Turn of Wit. They are rather for your Diversion, than any thing else. This perhaps you may reproach me for, as deviating from the great utile dulci, which I so strongly recom­mended in my last Letter. But, pro­vided this Rule is generally practised, there is no Harm in a short casual Devia­tion; as there is not any thing amiss in rising to a Game of Battledore and Shut­tlecock, [Page 94] after a long sedentary Applica­tion to Reading or Writing; nay it is ra­ther right than wrong, in-as-much as it tends to render both Mind and Body, like Aesop's relaxed Bow, ‘fitter for Use when you want them.’

The Happiness of a Parson's Life, is surely exceeding humorous. It very na­turally describes those simple and hum­ble Pleasures, whereof a Country Cler­gyman's Life consists. Yet these per­haps afford a more lasting Satisfaction, (though not so exquisite an Enjoyment) than those which are more refined, and what the French call more spirituelles; at least, they are very innocent Plea­sures.

[Page 95]One of the next two Poems I shall send you, is called the Elephant, or Par­liament-Man, and the other Aye and No. They both satirize, with great Wit and Humour, the Corruption of Members, which so shamefully prevails at present. The Parliament, I presume you know, is an Assemblage of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and the Commons of a Kingdom, for national Purposes. It de­rives its Name from the French Verb parler, to speak. We have our English Word Parley, from the same Root. Per­haps you could have told me this, and perhaps not, and your Ignorance never­theless not to be taxed with Blame. It is amazing how much Knowledge is lost for Want of a little common Attention or Observation in our general Intercourse [Page 96] with the World. Numberless are the Instances I have seen of sensible clever People being put to the Blush, and to a Difficulty, by a simple Question pro­posed from a Person of inferior Talents, and be infinitely astonished at themselves, that they should have been so long igno­rant of so plain a Matter.

If I have a Letter from you by this Day's Post, which I look for, I will add a Postscript. Pray see that the enclosed be immediately put into the Penny-Post.

LETTER LXXXVII.

YOUR Letter just now came to my Hand. I find that, which I wrote you this Day Se'nnight, is miscarried. I enclosed the Cook-Maid's Letter in it, and, If I am not mistaken, sent it un­der Mr. K —'s Cover. Perhaps he con­signed it to the Penny-Post, and it has been mislaid or neglected there. It is worth your while to enquire at the little Office near you; and if it be entirely gone, I will send you another Copy of the Poem. I mentioned therein that I would send you a Letter of Introduc­tion [Page 98] to a Family at Richmond; and your not noticing this Particular, convinces me that same must be what we have lost.

Now to your Questions—

A Rap is a Blow, and likewise a base Coin used in Ireland.

The Whigs are for destroying the Church, or at least, for reducing it. The Tories are for exalting it. Down with the Church, and Up with the Church, were frequent Expressions with the respective Parties.

The Mill-Dam is the Place where they keep a Reservoir of Water, to set [Page 99] the Mill going. Observe though this is only for Water-Mills, and the Sound, you know, pretty near that of a vulgar Oath.

Pinking is making small Holes. This was more in Use, at the Time of the old English Habit, when the Doublets for Men were laced, as Stays are for Women. Captain Bluff, in Congreve, you know, says, I'll pink his Soul, in Allusion to this Fashion.

The Ana-Baptists are not baptized till they come to Years of Discretion, and then they are plunged, not sprinkled. The first Part of the Word is adopted from the Greek, [...], which signifies against, or contrary. Thus they are [Page 100] against baptizing, till such an Advance of Life.

The Mortuary-Guinea is the Parson's Due at Burials, for reading the Service, Church-yard Fees, &c. It is derived from the Latin Word Mors, which means Death; thence too we have mortal.

You shall have all the Poems you write of. In the mean Time, I send The Ele­phant, and Aye and No; which I believe will please you much.

I hope to hear from you soon, to know if you are removed, and all Things set­tled, and how you like your new Apart­ments. I am, my dear Heart,

LETTER LXXXVIII.

I Write to you so often, and you write to me so seldom, that I am afraid you begin to be tired with the Corre­spondence, but hope my Fears are groundless. I assure you it is not every one I would take so much Pains for. I thought that the Want of Amusements in London, at this Season of the Year, would have rendered my frequent Writ­ing a sort of Diversion to you, and, in some Measure, an Amends for the Loss of others. In order to make this Diver­sion as agreeable and instructive as I am [Page 102] able, I have transcribed several Poems, such as I thought would best contribute to both these Purposes.

You have Talents so capable of Cul­tivation, that to be weary of receiving In­struction, would argue an Ingratitude to Nature, and I cannot think you liable to it. Perhaps I write too often, per­haps I burthen you with a Frequency of Subjects; or perhaps a little Lassitude and Inattention comes over you now and then, which, at your Time of Life, are excusable, if not indulged too far. If that be the Case, confess. Such Omis­sions call, at worst, for the mildest Re­proof; but, I cannot help saying, they would become many young Folks better than you.

[Page 103]Convinced that you cannot be pur­posely negligent, I shall proceed in the old Way. I herewith send Mary the Cook-Maid's Letter to Dr. Sheridan, and The Grove, translated from Pastor Fido, by the Earl of Roscommon. This is one of the best Pictures of a happy Life that I have ever seen; true Content and true Love, virtuous and innocent, are here delineated in their native beautiful Co­lours. I shall send you two or three more Poems which I think equal to the former, when I next write, and then rest awhile, or turn to some other Subject. I will not hurry you at all. I request that you will write only when you have Leisure, and be at Pains to do it in a right Manner. You have gain­ed great Esteem by so doing, for some [Page 104] Time past; do not now begin to for­feit it.

If there be any Passages or Expressions in what I send, which require an Eclair­cissement, let me know so much, and I will explain them to you, as fully as I am able. All I do is meant to contri­bute to your Delight. Nothing can give me more. Pleasure, than to hear that you are happy. Virtue and Piety are the cer­tain Road to Happiness. Let me hear you are virtuous, and I am sure you are happy.

Let me know certainly when you go for Richmond. My humble Service to Your Mother and Aunt.

P. S. You may perceive, my dear, that the above was written before I re­ceived yours; and the Reasons for your apparent Remissness are very satisfactory. I shall write again to-morrow, and an­swer that Letter, et vous envoyer l'Epi­tre recommendatoire.

LETTER LXXXIX.

I Here enclose a Letter to Mr. O—y at Richmond, under the Hill. Any one will tell you the Way to his House. Go there the Morning after your Arrival. If you do not go by ten o'Clock, you [Page 106] may happen to miss of him; should that be the Case, leave the Letter, and your Name, and go again after Dinner about three.

Now to your Questions—

A Congress is a Meeting of Ambassa­dors to settle Variances between different States and Kingdoms. Cambray is a Town in Flanders, where such a Con­gress was held. The Word quadruple signifies four-fold, and four Sovereign Powers were there going to enter into an Alliance at that Congress, but, some strong Exceptions being started, they disagreed, and broke up their Party at Quadrille.

[Page 107]I think Stella and Flavia very pretty, but it does not, to me, carry the Air of Dr. Swift's Writing. I have enclosed the Alley, which I promised should ac­company you on your little Tour. Con­sider the Cook-maid's Letter well, and it will amuse you much. You will find some Things in it very like what are called Blunders; some Words are used for others, as whereof and whereby; some are introduced that have no Meaning at all, as which, and it is four Years, &c. Now the Word which has no Relation to any thing; then see, the Clock strikes ten, and not that I know to my Knowledge. In a Word, it is exceeding good low Humour, and that was all the Author intended. In order to relish any Piece well, it is necessary to consider thoroughly what [Page 108] the Author proposed, and how far he meant to go; if he compasses his own Design, though the Work may not en­tirely satisfy your Imagination, he has done his Part; and the Deficiency is not to be charged on his having done too little, but on your having expected too much.

Did you ever see the Furniture of a Lady's Dressing-Room? If you have not, I will send it to you; though it falls short of Dr. Swift's usual Humour, it is nevertheless worth your reading. In Fact, there cannot be any Production of a great Genius, which is not worth one Revisal, provided it be within the Bounds of Decency.

[Page 109]Do you propose to let me know how I shall direct to you during your Stay at Richmond, or must I give over­writing till your Return to Town?

P. S. I have sent you six Franks un­der another Cover. You will find Mr. and Mrs. O—y, very sensible knowing People.

LETTER XC.

YEsterday I received your agreeable Letter; but you put no Year of our Lord. I don't like this careless Way, because it is the Means of con­tracting an ill Habit. Besides, you be­gin a new Sentence with a small Letter, and place no Point between that and your last, which ought never to be done; for though the smaller Points, such as Commas, and Semicolons, may be omit­ted, full Points never should.

[Page 111]When you go to Richmond, you will be hurried about in seeing various Places. This was the Reason for my mention­ing an Interval, and I meant no more by it; but as Franks begin to be scarce, I shall be pleased if you write me once a Week, and tell me every Occurrence worth Observation in your Journeys, and how you are received. Perhaps they may be worthy to be called The Lady's Travels (not to Spain, but) to Richmond. You have not yet said when you are to set out, nor how you are to get my Letters, or transmit yours to me. The Penny-Post does not reach Richmond, but there is an Office at Marsh-Gate, very near the Town. Your best Way to write to me is, in my Opinion, to keep your old Direction, and add, by [Page 112] London. I suppose you will take out your few Franks with you.

I send you with this The Journal of a modern Lady. In my next, you shall have the new Simile of a Woman to a Cloud, and in the next after that, the Cloud's Answer; though there are some Indeli­cacies I much disapprove. However, you are now very capable of discerning, adopting, and rejecting, as best beseems. I have taken up The Furniture of a La­dy's Dressing-Room, I believe, ten Times, in order to transcribe it for you, and have flung it aside as often; I find, on Examination, it does not please me.

When you come from your Excursion, I will execute a Promise I made some [Page 113] Time since; namely, to send you Horace's Judgment of the Iliad and Odyssey. How much I regret that so exquisite an Author, as Horace was, should not hitherto have been translated with that Spirit and Ener­gy he deserves! He had a most elegant Pen; yet he too had, now and then, his Grossnesses; but they, like Shakespeare's Puns, were rather the Fault of the Age he lived in, than Deficiency in his own Taste. I will however get you the best Translation I can of the above-named Piece, and some others.

This is the third Letter I have written you this Week.

P. S. On Recollection, you had best write me by the General-Post, and not trust to the other. I am greatly pleased with your last, it is so clean and so dis­tinct, the Faults, I have already men­tioned, alone excepted.

LETTER XCI.

I Have just now received your Letter, and am very sorry for your ill For­tune; but as this Day and yesterday have been pretty seasonable, and as the Wea­ther seems to be settled, I hope it will now make you some little Amends. If [Page 115] not, you must endure with Patience, or return home ungratified.

You will possibly think me a very cold dull Philosopher, to preach up Patience and Forbearance to a Person at your Time of Life. I confess they are hard Les­sons to learn at any Time, but especially so while the Heart is gay, the Passions warm, and Wishes impetuous. Permit me, however, to make one short Obser­vation, which may, in some Measure, qualify those impatient irksome Sensa­tions that arise from Disappointments.

The great Reason why Disappoint­ments sit more uneasy on young Folks, than on Persons advanced in Life, is, that the former assure themselves of a [Page 116] proposed Enjoyment, beyond the Power of Chance to prevent it. They no more advert to the Possibility of a cross Acci­dent, than if there were no such Thing in Nature. Now methinks it is easy to remember that there is such a Thing as a Disappointment, as well as a Delight. If you, my dear Nancy, when you pro­ject a Scheme of Pleasure for yourself, or have one proposed to you, would but make it a Rule to say, I ought not to set my Heart on this, it would awaken you to all the Chances against you, and so qualify your Mind as to endure the Dis­appointment without repining, and even enhance the Enjoyment, if your Wishes are gratified ^*.

[Page 117]I wonder you neglected to take a Book with you. Never travel without one; if you do, you go without your best Com­panion, in Case of foul Weather or Dis­appointments.

If the Weather should continue fa­vourable, which I hope it may, do not, [Page 118] by any Means, omit the Sight of Hamp­ton Court, Ham Walks, and Kew Gardens.

You neither tell me when you went out, nor whether you received the Let­ters I sent you, after the Date of your last, with the Extracts from Cadenus and Vanessa, and The Journal of the modern Lady; but I can excuse that, considering your Uneasiness. If this reaches you at Richmond, pray wait on Mr. and Mrs. O—y, with my hearty Service.

Much Enjoyment attend you, if you ob­tain your Wishes, Patience, if you do not!

LETTER XCII.

I Received yours of the 15th just now. I am glad your Mama has conde­scended to stay another Week, for, not­withstanding my philosophic Admoni­tion, it would grieve me that you should be disappointed of your proposed Plea­sure. I hope you will let me know how you like the Places you see about Rich­mond. The Country all around is charm­ing. Be sure not to omit the Green, nor indeed any Place. Every Object is Food to a contemplative Mind; and without Observation our Travels are nothing [Page 120] worth. You may smile perhaps at my Application of the Word Travel, to your little Excursion, and think it rather ludi­crous; but I do not mean it so. At your early Time of Life, and considering the little you have seen of the World, the Phrase is not so improper as, at first, it may appear.

You seem not to relish your Reception at Mr. O—y's; you think it was cold, but it consisted only in Manner. A second or third Visit will convince you of this. They are very friendly, sincere People, but have no Ostentation. Such Persons generally improve upon our Acquaintance, whereas those who are full of Professions and external Ceremonies, like great Pro­misers, too often defraud our Expectations.

[Page 121]In your Progress to Hampton Court, I beg you will observe the Village of Teddington. It is a Place which I love much.

As soon as I send the Answer to the Simile here enclosed, I shall give you my Thoughts on the Dean's Way of treating these Subjects; but this must be after your Return to London. Give my humble Service to your Ma­ma. I wish you both much Pleasure. Be sure to write me again before you go away, and let me have the whole History of your Travels and Adven­tures; and pray take Time in doing it; you seem to write in Haste, at least your two last Letters carry this Ap­pearance. It is not how speedily, but [Page 120] [...] [Page 121] [...] [Page 122] how properly you acquit yourself, that will gain Approbation.

LETTER XCIII.

I AM glad my last arrived safe, and that you have had the Satisfaction of seeing some Things about Richmond worth Observation. I should be pleased if your Mama would let, you stay a lit­tle longer, as you seem to like it so well; I think too it would be of Service to [Page 123] both your Healths. You may give my Respects, and say I join in the Request that she would grant this Indulgence.

I don't know the Adventures you speak of; but why not buy the Book, if you can­not borrow or hire it? I would rather you should do so, than have your Curiosity left ungratified; and as I know the pru­dent Motive that has restrained you from making the Purchase, I beg you will let me be at the Charge of all such Books as you wish should compose your little Library. But you need not be quite so much at a Loss where you are. Mr. O—y has a good Collection of Authors, and if you will ask the Favour, I am sure he will lend you any you desire, or let you come and chuse for yourself. But [Page 124] then you must take great Care of what you have, and regularly return one when you wish for another, otherwise you will find him reluctant. Some Persons would perhaps accuse him herein of being par­ticular, but it is a Particularity which I have frequently seen; and why should a Compliance with it be deemed hard, since it is no more than is consistent with common good Manners? Lovers of read­ing very often take up a capricious Fond­ness for their own Books; and, in Case of an Author being lost, it is not always that a new, and perhaps neater, Edition will make Amends.

I have seen Lord Cholmondeley's fine Room, but it was not finished when I saw it.

[Page 125]The Cloud was written by Dr. Sheri­dan, I think, but the Answer by Dr. Swift. The latter is, in my Opinion, much the wittiest, so I have sent it en­closed.

I hope your Stay will be prolonged, for you will not easily forgive yourself, if you do not see Hampton Court, and the fine Cartoons of the immortal Ra­phael. The Stair-Cafe, and the Beauties of King William's Court, are well worth your Notice, as are the Lodge and Cas­cade in Bushy Park. Ham Walks will also give you great Pleasure, but of ano­ther Kind. The former will rather raise your Wonder, (I mean the Court and Paintings) the latter inspire with a soft Delight. You will be more at home [Page 126] here, as you are happily possessed of a greater Relish for the humble, than the exalted Scenes of Life. Hence you will feel much Indulgence, I believe, in pass­ing through my favourite Village, Ted­dington.

I have now done with Dr. Swift, and shall, by way of Foil, send you the De­scription of a Lady's Dressing-Room, which is an Imitation (but far inferior) of the Doctor's Way of Writing; however you may, in some Measure, learn what to avoid, by reading it. There are many Things in that Part of Ovid's Art of Love, which Mr. Congreve has translated, worth noticing, in order to a Lady's making herself agreeable, besides the cri­minal Part. This latter ought to be [Page 127] carefully and judiciously distinguished (and you are very capable of doing it) from the truly-useful and allowable, nay commendable Precepts, which he lays down.

After sending you some few Reflections on Swift's Way of Writing, I will turn to Horace next. It is a great Pity that we have never yet had a good Translation of him; but so it is; and indeed he is so difficult to be rightly hit off, that I despair of ever seeing one.

P. S. I am much pleased with your last Letter.

LETTER XCIV.

I HAD the Pleasure of yours of the 22d instant. No Letters go from this on Saturday, so I could not answer you sooner.

If the Weather prove fair this Week, I suppose you will go to Hampton Court, where I think you had better stay a Night, that you may see every thing at Leisure. All the Places I wrote you of are in your Way. Let me scheme for you.

[Page 129]I would go by Water to Hampton Court, return the next Morning on Foot, (it is a pleasant Walk) through the Park, to Teddington, there take Water to Ham House and from that walk to Richmond.

Now your Mama and you have got to so pleasant a Spot, methinks I would have you stay some Time. As I said be­fore, it will improve your Health and Spirits. If you are come abroad with Finances too narrow for this, let me know, and I can give you a Draught on Mr. O—y. He is my Banker; all my Monies go through his Hands, so there is nothing improper or inconve­nient in it.

[Page 130]I am much delighted with your deli­cate Reasons for declining my Offer of furnishing you with Books; but you are too nice. Any thing in my Power, my dear Nancy, that may contribute either to your Health or Pleasure, I think well bestowed, that is to say, while you are so deserving in every Respect. Per­haps I might do the same, were your Merit not quite equal to what it is, but not with the same good Will; and I know your Disposition would scorn to be obliged, when you thought you did not deserve the Obligation.

As I told you in my last, Mr. O—y, I am sure, will let you have any Book you desire. If you could find the Life of Guzman d' Alfarache, I think it would [Page 131] entertain you. I well remember, when I was young, it entertained me.

I expect to be called to London some Time next Month, but am not certain exactly when. You shall know before I set out. Now to what I proposed about Dr. Swift.

Although Swift was a very nice Judge of Mankind, (I mean herein to include both Sexes) and consequently found many Things to censure, and might pos­sibly, on that Account, have too great a Contempt for the Generality of the World, yet we must not thence con­clude, that he was either a Man-Hater or a Woman-Hater. He wanted only to correct Vices; and though he launched [Page 132] into personal Satire against many parti­ticular Men, (who, I believe, deserved it at his Hands) yet I do not remember that he has been guilty of the same against the fair Sex.

In the next Place it may be observed, that he has perhaps painted his Charac­ters larger than the Life, as the Painters phrase it; but this is often necessary, to make the deeper Impression, as Figures larger than the Life must be adopted sometimes in Painting and Statuary, for the very same Purpose, especially when placed at a great Distance. But who­ever reads his Works attentively, will find that his Characters, though some­times too strong, are nevertheless per­fectly natural.

[Page 133]His Satire or Censure of your Sex has various Sources. It is sometimes drawn from Faults incident to the Sex in gene­ral; that is to say, Faults, or rather Weaknesses, which Women are more subject to than Men, and which may be said to arise from the Sex itself; for Example, Fear, Whims, and idle Fan­cies. These, you see, he wishes to era­dicate from their Minds.

At other Times his Satire arises from Faults, to which your Mode of Edu­cation exposes you; namely, Affectation, Dissembling, Tittle-Tattle, amusing your­selves with Trifles of Dress, Colours, Shapes, &c. for which indeed you are not to be blamed yourselves, but the Persons are, who have had the Care of your Youth.

[Page 134]Some Faultinesses which he arraigns, are those that attend certain Times and Places, as Fashions; and I take the Mo­dern Lady to be of this Sort. Others are what this or that particular Woman runs into, which arise out of Affectation or Vanity, and wear, at the same Time, the Semblance of Virtue. Such is the Cha­racter of Artimesia.

Perhaps the Author had some parti­cular Woman in his View when he drew this Character, Phryne, and Sappho, &c. so possibly had Mr. Congreve, when he drew Doris and Amoret, but then they take Care not to expose any one. Of all these, I think Amoret the nicest; be­cause her Faults are hardly distinguish­able from Virtue, and such as are most [Page 135] likely to impose not only on the World, but even on the Person who has them; and I do say, a Girl of good Sense and a virtuous Disposition, is not in so much Danger of becoming Phryne or Doris, or even Artimesia or Sappho, as she is of be­coming an Amoret. The last Stanza of this little Poem, namely,

is the most judicious and most true Re­mark I ever read on the Sex, and yet the least noticed. By the bye, it may very often be applied to our Sex as well as yours, and with as much Propriety.

[Page 136]Thus you see the Doctor has shewn your Sex what they ought to shun, in some Poems, and what they ought to be, in others; namely, in his Biddy Floyd, a Lady at Court, Stella, Mrs. B——, &c.

Adieu, my dear. I shall write you soon some further Thoughts, perhaps to-morrow or next Day; but I am afraid I tire you.

LETTER XCV.

I Have not yet got Time to make a Copy of The Dressing-Room for you, but shall do it by the next Post-Day, and then to Horace.

Besides what I mentioned in my last Letter relative to female Faults, there are some which proceed from the Condition of Life. Women, by their Constitu­tion, by their Frame of Body and Mind, are more formed for Subjection, than Men are. Some People indeed have dis­puted this, but it has been rather to shew their Wit and Parts, than for any other [Page 138] Purpose, for the Fact is too evident to be denied. Allowing it to be so, there are then some Temptations which arise from the Condition of the Sex. A Desire of Rule, or perhaps of having their Will, which is as strong in many Women as in Men, naturally incites them to find out some crafty Methods to obtain it. By the Prerogative of our Sex, we go a shorter and more direct Way to work. Some masculine Women do the same, especially when they meet with soft, easy, womanish Men; but, for the most Part, it is otherwise. Women then, I say, who are desirous of Sway, are re­duced to peculiar Contrivances to obtain it: they must apply to Art and Cunning, to wheedling or teazing, according to the Temper of the Persons they have to [Page 139] deal with. I do not mean to infer from this, that Women are by Nature more insincere, more cunning, flattering, or more affected than the Men, but that it is only the Condition, whereto the Disadvantage of their Sex reduces them, which is the Source and Origin of such indirect Practices. To confirm this, we may observe that Children, (Boys I mean) wilt do the self same Thing, to obtain what they want from their Parents; so will Servants, or any Inferiors, from their Masters and Superiors. But Women, who have humane and reasonable Hus­bands, and who are reasonable them­selves, or are independent, (in either of which Cases the Condition is different from what I before described) are not chargeable with such Subtleties; I say, [Page 140] we do not see them make Use of any of these little, though too often necessary, Arts.

I fear I have tired you. I have dwelt too long on a Subject too grating to a female Ear; I shall therefore only ob­serve, that some Faults flow from the Sex, (are generical, if I may so call them) more arise from Education, but most from their Condition or Station in Life.

I think it is Dr. Swift who will not allow that there is such a Thing as mas­culine and feminine Virtues. What is Virtue in a Man, is so in a Woman, says he. I will not dispute that Opinion, but I believe I may affirm, that there are Virtues, as well as Vices, in general, [Page 141] more strongly implanted in the one Sex, than in the other; as for Example, Fear, Tenderness, Compassion, &c. in Women, and Intrepidity, Roughness, Hardiness, &c. in Men. There are moreover some Faults and Frailties pardonable in the one Sex, which are abominable in the other.

A young Fellow who rambles about, and runs Riot, is easily forgiven; if a young Woman should do so, she is gone at once. As Rowe says, ‘She sets, like Stars that fall, to rise no more.’ I do not presume to say but that the World is rather unjust to be so indul­gent on the one Hand, and so severe on the other; but that is no Kind of Alle­viation [Page 142] to the young Woman who ex­poses herself to such Danger.

There are some Instances on the other Hand. If a Woman is frighted at Trifles or Shadows, she is compassionated; a Man so circumstanced, would be ridi­culed. If Women put on affected Airs, or are over-solicitous about their Dress and Appearance, at worst they are de­spised perhaps only pitied; but let a Ma [...] be guilty of such Things, he is detested.

These Hints, my dear, were occa­sioned by the Poems I sent you. Yo [...] may pursue them to a greater Length, and they may serve as useful Warning [...] to shew you where your Danger lies an [...] preserve you from falling into it. To know [Page 143] where we are most weak, is one Step towards our Security. Every young Per­son, especially a Female, coming into Life, should nicely observe the Distinction between the Virtues and Vices of both Sexes, and be able to ascertain the respec­tive Conduct necessary to be pursued.

The Post is just come in, but I have nothing from you. I hope you are well. My next Letter shall be on a quite dif­ferent Subject.

Je suis, ma chere Nannette, très sin­cerement,

LETTER XCVI.

JUST now, my dear, I have the Plea­sure of yours of the 27th, and thank you for it. I do not call this an Answer, but barely an Acknowledgment; for I am obliged to defer sending you the Copy of Verses I promised, and writing what I proposed, being compelled to go out of Town for some few Days; but do not let that hinder your writing to me, for your Letters will be sent to me, and I can answer them from the Country.

[Page 145]I wonder you have so long put off going to Hampton Court. You should have seized your first good Weather for that; that is, if your Mama did not dis­approve it; but if she found herself in­clined to rest at Richmond, I make no Doubt but your warmest Desires for Pleasure would be submitted to her Ease. No Duty is so graceful as that which is paid to a Parent, and it should be continued through Life; the first to be taken up, the last to be laid aside.

When you return to London, I will endeavour to get you a little Hoard of Franks; but, in the mean Time, write on, and give me Pleasure. My Re­tirement will be improved, as my Hours [Page 146] of Business are relieved, by our Corre­spondence.

My Service to your Mama.

LETTER XCVII.

AT my Return to this Place, my dear Nancy, I received yours of the 13th of July, and yesterday I had another of the 5th instant. I cannot ac­count for the Letter having been five Days on the Road.

[Page 147]Your being taken sick upon your Tour must be both a Disappointment and In­convenience. I hope however your Dis­order will not increase. If it should, and you are unable to write, beg your Mama to favour me with a Line, as you may reasonably suppose I shall otherwise be kept in a very uneasy Suspence.

Suffer me here to trouble you with a little Caution, which however I cannot think you stand in Need of. There is an idle Custom, wherein too many of your Sex indulge themselves, which ought to be carefully guarded against; I mean that of complaining for Trifles, and endeavouring to impose a flight In­disposition for a material Illness. Some [Page 148] Ladies who follow this Practice, per­haps would never dream of doing it of their own Accords, but they have seen the Affectation in others, and fancied it became them; thus they are guilty of that through Imitation, which they would never have been through Prin­ciple. Such Persons draw on themselves one Inconvenience at least, namely, that of not being credited, when they are really ill.

To divert you, I will quote a Pas­sage out of Horace, somewhat similar to this. I own the Translation to be very indifferent, but the Sense is ex­cellent.

I wish there were a good Translation of Horace, for your Sake, but it is what I despair of ever seeing: however, I would have you acquainted with him even in such Translation as we have. I will get you the best I can very soon. [Page 150] He is a Treasure that you would be glad to be possessed of; and though you may relish him but indifferently, as he is given in our Language, yet it is better than not to be acquainted with him at all.

I do not know how long it may be before I see London. If you are willing therefore, we will supply the Absence as usual, by Letter, and perhaps to better Advantage than if we were together.

P. S. Since writing the above, I have a Letter from Mr. K—, and one from you, about the Parcel of Snuff you have been so good to send me. I thank you very kindly. Such little Remembrances are endearing, and sometimes more so than material Services; since the latter are generally called out by some occasional Claim of Exigency, whereas the former are the Result of a constant Attention and Inclination to oblige. The Portuguese have a pretty Adage, or Proverb, to this Pur­pose, which means, ‘Civility costs little, and gains much.’

You ask about the unhappy Acci­dent, mentioned in the News-Papers. You perceive, by this, that the Disaster [Page 152] did not befal me. It is true, the poor Servant was drowned, by the Boat oversetting. Mr. L— was got out, without any Damage. I was not in the Boat. I have neither mentioned it in writing, nor talked of it to any one, when I could avoid it. Such Events, I think, are painful to the Hearer as well as the Speaker; for this Reason, I did not hint it to Mr. K—.

A great Concourse of Company is to be at our Races this Week. This Hall will be crouded. The Duke of Hamilton, Earl of Orrery, and his Son, Lord Boyle, will lye here; a Brother of Mr. L— from the Indies, and many more Gentlemen.

[Page 153]Give my hearty Service to your Mama and Aunt; thank them for their kind Concern about me, and write me when you think fitting.

LETTER XCVIII.

I Have yours of the 23d, for which I am much obliged, since it brings me News of your Amendment. It may ap­pear odd to say, I am now very glad to be informed that you have been verita­blement malade; as I would rather that a [Page 154] Person, for whom I entertain such a high Esteem, as I do for you, should be lost to Health, than lost to Truth. In such a Case as ours, however, I know the Generality of the World would not call it a Falshood, only an Equivocation; but surely, instead of mending the Matter, this is only making it worse; the Fault is the same, with the Aggravation of Meanness. We see frequent Instances hereof in the common Occurrences of Life, and People are either insensible, or regardless of them. But call the Trans­gression what by Name you will, still it is such as I thought you incapable of, and am pleased to be confirmed in my Opi­nion; though by your calling my Quo­tation from Horace a bitter Pill, you cer­tainly strained it to a Meaning I did not [Page 155] intend you should. I had some Suspi­cion of this when I wrote it. However, I chose to leave it for you to comment on, and for myself to defend afterwards, which I thus do.

Every Fable has, or may have, a ge­neral, as well as a particular Applica­tion. Our Story shews the Danger of People using false Pretences, on various Occasions, and thereby running a Risque of not being believed, when they speak truth. This is the general Moral or Ap­plication. The particular Moral is spe­cified in the kept Woman losing her Cre­dit with her Friend, by pretending eter­nal Wants and Losses; a Hanger-on with his Retainer; and a Beggar with the Pas­senger. Now you chose to introduce a [Page 156] particular Application to your own Ill­ness, which I thought I had guarded against in my Premisal to the Quotation. It seems you did not think so, and there was no Harm in it; it was but the na­tural Result of a strong and a nice Feel­ing; and, were it an Error, I would rea­dily take it on myself, being, as I am, the Source of it; and again assure you I meant only to amuse, not to reproach you.

I have bought Horace for you; but the Translation being very indifferent, many Allusions made to Roman Cus­toms, and Roman Names of People and Places introduced, I fear it will read very heavily. You would nevertheless find it worth your while to put up with [Page 157] the former, and be at some extraordinary Pains to make yourself acquainted with the others, for the Sake of the prudent Sayings, Advices, Maxims, and Reflec­tions, wherewith the Author abounds. In short, you must, for once, be contented with the utile without the dulce, for the latter is all left behind with the Ori­ginal. It will somewhat resemble a wholesome Pill, without any Gilding.

There is another Author I want to make you acquainted with, and that is Longinus on the Sublime. I will get one for you, and send it with Horace. Ob­serve, my dear, while I am recommend­ing these to you, I have no Design to induce you to set up for a Critic, or a female Pedant, only to enable you to [Page 158] know the Extent of your own Judg­ment, and how to correct and regulate it to your Profit and Pleasure. For this Purpose merely it is that I wish to make you acquainted with some of the best Writers of Antiquity, who accu­rately distinguish between Sense and Non-sense, true and false Wit, Humour and Farce, Sublime and Bombast, a noble Flight and a Rant, a graceful Complaint and an unbecoming Whining.

The melancholy Accident, which you enquire about, happened in the follow­ing Manner.

We were at a Treat which a new Comer to the Hall gives to the other Students. It [Page 159] was at the celebrated Place, called God-stow where Fair Rosamond, the Favourite of Henry II. was buried. A Branch of the Isis runs there, which at London is called the Thames. There is a Bridge of two Arches; the one was stopped up, in order to catch Fish there, so the whole Stream was thrown into the other. Mr. L— had taken his Servant into his Boat, and was endeavouring to push through the Arch, which he had, at other Times, done without Difficulty; but, on this Occasion, the Impetuosity of the Current suddenly drove the Boat back with great Violence; Mr. L— stumbling against his Servant, they were both thrown for­cibly on the Edge of the Boat, and oc­casioned it to be so far overbalanced, as to be filled with Water. Apprehensive [Page 160] that the Boat would immediately sink, Mr. L— jumped out, and was taken up without the least Harm; but the Servant, staying longer by the Boat, was drove further from the Bank, and being unable to swim, he unfortunately sunk, before the Boat, which took up his Master, could reach him. They once or twice got a Pole under him, but could not save him. I did not see the first Part of the Misfortune, for I was not come out from Dinner, but arrived Time enough to see Mr. L— taken up, and the poor Man lost.

I have gratified your Curiosity, but you need not tell the Story out of your Family. There is something very shocking in the Idea of a poor Creature being snatched [Page 161] thus from Life, in an Instant, and, as Shakespeare says, ‘With all his Imperfections on his Head,’ and Calamities like these should serve as a Warning to us all, to lead such Lives, as might best enable us to meet such. Deaths, if called on.

LETTER XCIX.

I Have just now received yours of the 26th. Some Mistakes have happened between us about Dates, which we can­not [Page 162] easily settle, I find, and some Mis­carriages in the Post, which we cannot repair; therefore I do not hold it worth our while to enter into a Discussion about them. Time ill-employed is worse than Time unemployed, and the last is bad enough in all Conscience.

The entire Occasion of my writing just now is to tell you that I go into the Country, to Tew, to-morrow early, and shall not return for two or three Days. When I do, I shall send you Horace and Longinus. You are probably thinking of their Arrival now; I therefore hold it necessary to make an Apology for not gra­tifying the Expectation I have raised. It is, in some Degree, like not paying a Debt which we have voluntarily con­tracted.

[Page 163]You promised to read those Books in the Holy Scriptures, and the Apocrypha, which I recommended, and to let me have your Thoughts of them. Why do you not so employ yourself now, and write your Thoughts at your Leisure? When you get Horace and Longinus, there will be a new Subject of Correspondence. But I do not desire to hurry you. Write, when you find the Spirit of writing upon you, that is, when you find yourself best inclined to it.

LETTER C.

JUST now I have the Pleasure of yours. I have been hurried ever since I wrote you last. I am this Even­ing returned to Town, and must leave it again early to-morrow Morning.

My present Business occasions a second Disappointment in the Books I promised. They cannot come till I return; but, believe me, you should not wait so long for them, if it were in my Power to prevent it. I have known People who made a Point of baulking young Folks [Page 165] of Presents and Enjoyments that had been promised them, from a prudent Design (as they termed it) of inuring them early to Disappointments. I hold it the most dangerous Way of proceed­ing in the World. Beside that it will never answer the End proposed (for it will be much more likely the Temper should be hurt than improved by it) it is practising Cunning and low Artifice with them; setting them a bad Exam­ple; for as soon as they are old enough to discover the Means you use, they will be induced to practise the same with you, and endeavour to counteract one Craft by another. Hence they are early se­duced from the first great Principle of Goodness, Truth, and by Degrees all that is open and ingenuous in the Mind [Page 166] may be quenched, ere they know the Value of it.

If I return on Tuesday, your Books shall be sent on Wednesday; if I do not, you cannot have them till Friday. Wait with Patience till then, and I think you need not wait longer. I be­lieve Longinus will give you great Satis­faction. Our Correspondence about Books, and Observations on them, has been long interrupted. I care not now how soon it is resumed; but it shall be at your own Choice. I will not hurry you.

I have one Letter more to write about Dr. Swift's Genius, and then I have en­tirely done with that Subject. I promised, [Page 167] 'tis true, to let you have what Horace [...]ays of the Iliad and Odyssey, but as I am [...]o send you the Book itself, that Promise [...]s superseded.

I wish, for your Sake, that the Trans­lation were better, or that you under­stood the Original; I will however assist you as far as I am able, and, in my next Letter, point out some Places, to which I would have you particularly attend.

LETTER CI.

THREE Lines to inform my dearest Nancy that I am just returned from Tew with Dr. King; where I have staid, at least, one Day longer than I expected. I am just Time enough to keep my last Promise. You may send to the Black Bull in Holborn, at the Time I men­tioned, and the Messenger will find a little Box addressed to you, containing my Pro­mise, and an Author or two over and above, by way of Interest, for the Prin­cipal having been so long due.

[Page 169]I want to read Longinus myself, and to compare it and the Notes with another Edition which I had designed for you, but I would not longer delay. I have, I think, sent you the best. I have no more to say at present, only that I wish to hear from you; but that at your Lei­sure.

We shall now begin to correspond in earnest again. This Interval of Relaxa­tion may have its Use. We shall return to more intense Studies with greater Spirit.

LETTER CII.

YOU have now received the Books. Longinus is a most admirable Au­thor, but he will require a deep Atten­tion in reading. I advise you to observe the Notes as you go along; not leave them till last. When you have made yourself Mistress of them, read the Book through again. This will give you a very competent Knowledge of him, and your Pleasure will be increased in Pro­portion. A real good Author, you know, like a real good. Man, improves on our [Page 171] Acquaintance. Your own Judgment will suggest to you the most useful and remarkable Places; however, I recom­mend the 8th, 14th, 17th, 34th, and the two last Chapters. You will give me your Opinion of the whole, in due Time. When you enter upon Horace, you must make great Allowance for the Stile, the Measure of his Verse, and yet more for the weak Expression in which the origi­nal Sense and Meaning is given.

This Minute yours of the 9th. Never delay writing, because Franks are want­ing. I hold such a Consideration un­worthy to be put in Balance with a Let­ter from a Friend. Postage is cheap enough; and your Correspondence is dear to me.

[Page 172]I cannot say when I am to be in Lon­don. You will have another little Parcel soon, containing some Buckles and other Necessaries, which Mr. K— desired me to procure for him. Please to send them to him, and he will remit the Price; I have advised him what the Amount is. Do me the Favour to accept it, for the Improvement of your little Library. Make such Purchases as Fancy dictates; I will not direct or controul your Choice.

I am concerned for your Mama's Indisposition. I beg to hear about her soon, but desire nothing more from you. I would not be the Means of employ­ing a Minute of your Time now, which [Page 173] is so essentially necessary to your Care and Attention to her.

I have little Leisure at present; my next shall be longer. When you can return to our usual Custom, why may you not write me in French now and then? The Archbishop of Cambray's Dia­logues des Morts, &c. are excellent; com­posed of very fine, easy, and familiar French. They deserve to be read often.

LETTER CIII.

I Have the Pleasure of yours of the 13th, and am glad to hear you got the Things safe, and that your good Mama is better. You have one of the greatest Comforts and Blessings of this Life, a good Parent; and indeed you are one of the few young Folks who deserve the Blessing, in-as-much as you are sensible of it, and, by your Conduct towards her, prove you are grateful for it. May it be long continued to you!

[Page 175]I hold myself indebted to you for your ready Acceptance of my little Present; it was the most pleasant and grateful Re­turn you could make me. There is a Delicacy necessary in accepting, as well as conferring a Kindness, which is nicely explained by our Shakespear. He makes Othello say to Iago, (who has sworn to devote himself to his Service)

This Phrase, bounteous Acceptance, is libe­ral beyond defining; it can only be felt. What is usually called Taste, consists en­tirely in Feeling; and I am not clear that the latter Expression would not be the most proper.

[Page 176]I have no Doubt but you will soon get through Longinus, and all the Notes. I know your Expedition, therefore wish you to attack him a second Time, be­fore you transmit me your Opinion. Let me likewise have your Thoughts on Ho­race, the Scriptures, and the Apocrypha, as you go on with them. I shall soon give my additional Letter of Observations on Swift's Mode of writing.

There is a little Publication, called Dialogues sur l' Eloquence en general, et sur celle de la Chair en particulier, avec une Lettre ecrite à l' Academie Francoise, by the Archbishop of Cambray. It is a most ex­cellent little Book, and I wish you would endeavour to get it. The Bookseller in Clare-Court, I dare say, will find it for [Page 177] you. Read it with the closest Atten­tion; it deserves you should, for it will assist you in a right Way of thinking and and judging.

The Duke of Hamilton is, or was lately, at Stockbridge in Hampshire. I hope he will be soon in London. But why do you ask?

The Translations you speak of may more properly be called Imitations than Translations; and you will certainly find more Beauty in them, than in Creech, though they do not follow the Original so close. I think therefore Creech should be your first Object, by way of ground­ing yourself in the original Meaning of Horace, then turn to what you please; [Page 178] in particular, to Pope's Imitations of some of his Epistles and Satires; they will charm you.

I hope to hear soon, and am,

LETTER CIV.

ON Saturday last I sent you a Letter by Dr. King's Servant, which I hope you have received safe.

For these three Months past, I have employed my spare Hours in reading such [Page 179] Authors as have wrote on Poetry; for Example, Horace, Boileau's and Vida's Art of Poetry, Pope's Essay on Criticism, the Duke of Buckingham's Essay on Poetry, and Lord Roscommon's Essay on translated Verse. I have also been at the Pains to make Abstracts from them all, and this for two Reasons; first, to make the deeper Impression on my Mind, secondly, to have them to recur to, on Occasion.

As I said once before, I would not have you set up for a Critic; but as Nature has implanted in you a Love and Taste for reading, I could wish you, at this Leisure-Time of your Life, to ac­quire as right a Judgment as you can of what you read, and be able to converse upon it. But your own Discretion must [Page 180] be your Monitor, not to let these Studies engage your Time and Attention, to the Neglect of such domestic Qualifica­tions, as your Sex and Situation may hereafter demand.

I have sent you a loose Abstract of the Duke of Buckingham's Essay, and, if you desire them, will furnish you with Abstracts of the rest. This may, at first View, appear an useless Trouble to one who has the Originals at Hand, but, in Fact, is not so; it may be of the same Use to you, that it was to me; and you will still have a much stronger Impression of any Rule or Passage, by writing your Remarks to me, or adding what is de­fective to mine; for, as I did them hasti­ly, [Page 181] no Doubt, many Things want to be corrected.

Shall I give you a short Character of the Authors I have named?

Horace is always allowed the first Place. Notwithstanding he slides over Things in a short, easy, careless Way, scarce seeming to observe any Order, yet he requires a great deal of Attention. Roscommon's Translation of him is good, though Oldham's loose Manner gives us most Pleasure. This Author has also been translated by Ben Jonson and several others.

Vida stands next. He does not med­dle with the different Kinds of Poetry, [Page 182] only with Poetry in general, and chiefly applies what he says to the Epic. He is more full, regular, and methodical, than any of them. He points out how a Youth of Genius should be trained in the Art of Poetry; and treats of many Things, which none of the others, whom I have named, have touched upon; all in such excellent Verse, and so suited to the Na­ture of his Subjects, that the Sound is in Reality "an Echo to the Sense." The Original is in Latin. I am not certain whether he has been translated, but will enquire; if he has, I will get him for you; but, at all Events, you must com­pound for the Loss of his genuine Beauty.

[Page 183] Boileau is very judicious; he takes in all Kinds of Poetry, and borrows a great deal from Horace, but is more metho­dical.

Pope's Essay on Criticism is a consum­mate Piece; but it is so concise, that, like Horace, he demands close Atten­tion. He borrows much from the three before-mentioned.

Roscommon and the Duke of Bucking­ham are much shorter. They omit many Things which the others mention, but what they have written is finely executed. The Duke of Buckingham insists most on Dramatic Writing. What he has said, though imperfect, is very judicious, and his Lines are masterly.

[Page 184]On the whole, I have one Piece of Ad­vice for you; namely, that you would particularly observe what they have in common with each other. By this Means you will be nearest to the right.

No more, till I hear from you, which I hope will be soon; but pray do not write, when you are in a Hurry.

LETTER CV.

I Have, on the other Leaf of this Let­ter, sent you an Abstract of Lord Ros­common's Essay on translated Verse. If you [Page 185] will let the Abstract lye by you, while you go through the Work itself, it will assist you to distinguish one Rule from another, and implant them still deeper in your Mind.

This Author will particularly define Tragedy and Comedy, and enable you to form a proper Judgment of them.

I need not observe to you that the first general Qualification necessary in all Kinds of Writing is good Sense. The peculiar Ingredients requisite for Tragedy are Terror and Pity, those for Comedy are Wit and Humour. Corneille thought to bring a fourth into Tragedy, namely, Admiration; but it is not by any Means so essential as the former. It will some­times [Page 186] have its Effect, and act very agree­ably on the Mind, but Terror and Pity always have been, and always will be, allowed the main Ingredients.

In like Manner, Wit and Humour are necessary to Comedy. The Prefe­rence between these is generally given to Humour, and I think very justly. If Humour is that peculiar Mode of think­ing, and of saying and doing Things, which some Persons possess, and are thereby distinguished from all others, then it must be the chief Ingredient in Comedy. Most People are endued with this Talent in a greater or less Degree; and it is not uncommon to see the Hap­piness or Unhappiness of Life depend on this peculiar Cast of Mind and of Be­haviour. [Page 187] Congreve has an excellent Letter on Humour in Comedy. Pray read it.

Wit assuredly claims only the second Place. Complaints have been made of too much Wit in some of our Co­medy-Writers, in Congreve, for Instance. If any one merits the Charge, he must be the Man; but I am afraid it is generally rather false Wit, or something mistaken for Wit, which is complained of. There are very few Authors, however, who can be arraigned of this Fault; though I have heard Terence and Wycherley in the List with Congreve.

True Wit is hard to be defined. Some call it merely a Propriety of Thoughts and Words; but I think it rather is good [Page 188] Sense well expressed. Others term it an Assemblage of Ideas of very distinct and different Nature, yet capable of being solved into an agreeable and unexpected Likeness. Congreve's Comparison of Re­ligion and Politics to Oil and Vinegar, is an Instance in Point. But I think this ra­ther a Species, than a Definition of Wit. In my Opinion, Wit consists in an inge­nious Thought, cloathed in good Phrase, expressed with Liveliness, and creative of Pleasure and Mirth ^*. If so, it is an Es­sential to Comedy. It recommends and enforces our Sentiments, which, how­soever just or important they may be, [Page 189] would otherwise too frequently, make very slight Impressions. Let us how­ever not forget that it is a dangerous Weapon in the Hands of a Fool, or a vicious Person; for false Sentiments and [...]ad Doctrine, thus seasoned, might too generally prevail, and mislead Persons of very right Dispositions. More in my next.

P. S. In reading the annexed Abstract, [...]ou are to observe that many of the Au­thor's Rules and Observations will serve [...]or Poetry in general, as well as for [...]anslated Verse, as will those of Mr. [Page 190] Pope either for Poetry or Criticism. Lord Roscommon has had Horace, Boileau, and Vida, in his Eye, but principally Vida;

LETTER CVI.

A Comedy with too much Wit in it has been compared to a Suit of Cloaths, so richly embroidered, as to pre­vent the Ground-Work being seen. I think however it is oftner Tinsel, than Sterling, of which we complain.

It has been objected to Congreve, that his very Servants and low Characters are [Page 191] witty. Why should they not be so? Have we not seen such in real Life, especially those who have acquired a little better Sort of Education; Jeremy in his Love for Love is described to have waited on a Gentleman at Cambridge; is there any Wonder such a Servant should be witty; or such as are bred in or near London, or in the Neighbourhood of the Court? I do not see why they may not be as witty as their Betters, as they often are.

He is again charged with having writ­ten bad English. He does so sometimes, but puts it in the Mouth of a low Cha­racter. He must be a weak Observer indeed, who cannot distinguish between the Character and the Author.

[Page 192]Mr. Pope himself objects that Congreve's Fools are not Fools;

In my humble Opinion, Mr. Pope should have considered that Congreve had de­clared, and justly, against bringing er­rant Fools on the Stage, that is, such as are created so. Why, for what End bring Persons there, who ought rather to be pitied than exposed? We might as jus­tifiably reduce deaf or dumb People to Ridicule, as such Fools as these. Lord Rochester has an excellent Observation on this Head; he says, the Folly which de­serves to be exposed, is procured

[Page 193] meaning to imply that Coxcombry must proceed from Vanity, Pride, Affectation, or a wrong Taste,

Congreve complains that his Witwou'd, in the Way of the World, was mistaken by the Town for a True-Wit. The Er­ror was wholly theirs. His Judgment was too nice to suffer him to draw gross Fools: his were of a refined Cast, and were Men, who had the Appearance, at least, of something like Men of Sense. Of this Sort are Tattle, Petulant, Witwou'd, and Brisk; though they are Fools enough at the Bottom; but nevertheless are such to whom we should rather give the Ap­pellation of Fops or Coxcombs.

[Page 194]The Objection to Congreve, that his Fools are not Fools enough, is not half so bad as if they had been too much so. Surely the Town would not have wished him to have brought either an Ideot or a Lunatick on the Stage. He has indeed brought a Counterfeit-Madman there, and Ben Johnson a real Madman, (in his Comedy of Bartholomew Fair) but not with an Intent to expose either the one or the other. If we consider the Con­duct of the Persons I have named, from their first Entrance to the Time they leave the Stage, we shall find them Fools enough in all Conscience. Petulant and Wit­wou'd, for Example, can seldom be asun­der; they speak ill of one another, when apart; they play at Snip Snap, and a rude Sort of bantering one another in Com­pany, [Page 195] and even before Strangers. They affect a strange Sort of Cant; there is a kind of Pertness in all they say; their Repartee is lively, but silly and unman­nerly; they get drunk, and come in that Pickle before their Mistress; they fall into an absurd Fit of wrangling, in which they both speak rank Nonsense; they set up for being very severe upon the Ladies; they give up their Preten­sions to Millamant with as little Reason as they formed them; in a Word, they are a Couple of Coxcombs, approaching towards Wit and Breeding, but in Truth having neither. Instead of good Sense, polite Wit, and genteel Repartee, they have a sort of rude Briskness, and run the Rig, as the young Tem­plars, [Page 196] and spruce Wits, call this Sort of joking.

This has diverted me from what I was going to say about Wit. I will de­fer it till my next.

P. S. Your Letter is just now arrived, but I have no Time to answer it till to-morrow.

LETTER CVII.

I Thought to have pursued the Sub­ject of my last Letter two Days ago, but had not Time. I now proceed to enquire what Wit is, and when it may be used with Propriety.

Though I cannot give you a perfect Definition of Wit, (which perhaps is not to be done, the Word being so va­riously applied) yet I think we may de­fine in what Shape it generally appears. In the first Place, Wit, in my Opinion, [Page 198] is good Sense; or, at least, it is founded in good Sense, although there is some­thing more necessary to constitute it; for Example, Jocoseness, Sprightliness, Ridi­cule; but above all, Aptness. The Time and Manner of applying it makes great Part of the Merit.

A good Pun passes for Wit, with some Folks, but I fear it is no Way al­lied to it. A wild Expression carries the same Appearance with others, but if there be not something ingenious in it as well as wild, I doubt it will never de­serve the Name of Wit.

Wit appears often in a smart Repar­tee, if made off-Hand; Impromptu's, [Page 199] as the French call them. These are very entertaining, provided a fair Occasion of­fers, and the Person, who gives that Oc­casion, deserves the Smart. The Conver­sation between Millamant and Marwood, in the Way of the World, is a lively In­stance hereof. The former retorts on the latter with Abundance of Wit, Humour, and Satire.

I will give you one Instance in a little Story where the Repartee was lively, and severe, and deserved, and immediately took its Rise from what had been said.

The famous Judge Jefferies was notable at confounding and brow-beating Wit­nesses, as they call it, especially when [Page 200] their Testimonies were not agreeable to him. An old reverend Man, with a great Beard, was giving Evidence before him, when Jefferies, in Hope to put him out of Countenance, said, ‘If that Fel­low's Conscience is as large as his Beard, he may swear what he pleases.’ The Witness, taking hold of his Beard, gravely replied, ‘Nay, my Lord, if you measure Consciences by Beards, your Lordship has none at all.’

Thus introduced, Repartee surely me­rits to be called Wit, and is not only an agreeable, but an useful Talent; but when it is exercised against good-natured, inoffensive People, or such as are in Want or Affliction, it becomes detesta­ble, [Page 201] and rather deserves the Name of Cru­elty. It is indeed as unmanly and cow­ardly in these Cases, as it would be to assail with Violence one who had not a Weapon to defend himself, or if he had, who possessed neither Strength or Spirits to make Use of it. And yet many such witty Fools are to be found, who chuse to display their Talents on any Subject, rather than lose an Opportunity of shew­ing them ^*. One Comfort is, that they often feel the ill Effects themselves; for Wit, improperly placed, is as apt to injure the Possessor, as a Gun, by recoiling, to [Page 202] bruise an injudicious Shooter. Shall I illustrate this by another little Anecdote?

A certain noble Roman was standing for one of their highest Offices; the Con­sulship, I believe. The Election being popular, the Candidates were obliged to court the Freemen, as is practised in our Country at every Election for a Seat in Parliament. All the Voters were caress­ed. This Noble was shaking Hands with a poor labouring Man, and per­ceiving them to be very hard, "Friend," quoth he, with a Sneer, "dost thou walk upon thy Hands?" The Man took the Witticism in Dudgeon, and had Resent­ment and Interest enough to make the Noble lose his Election.

[Page 203]The famous Sir Thomas Sydenham, who was an extraordinary great Man in his Way, had so indifferent an Opinion of Wit, that he used to say, "There was almost as great a Difference between Wis­dom and Wit, as between Something and Nothing." Yet I cannot agree with him. Wit, properly managed and tem­pered, may be rendered (as I said be­fore) an agreeable and useful Quality. We should only take Care not to let it get the better of good Sense, good Nature, good Humour, or good Man­ners.

I am about to send you a Book, which contains the Duke of Buckingham's and Lord Roscommon's Poems, and the Arch­bishop of Cambray's Reflections on Elo­quence. [Page 204] Boileau's Art of Poetry, a Trans­lation from Vida, and the Abstracts you desire shall accompany them. Here­with you receive a Portion of Pope's Es­say on Criticism, but I wish you may be able to read it. It was written in a Hur­ry, and I have not present Leisure to transcribe it afresh.

P. S. I shall write again to-morrow, or Sunday, at farthest.

LETTER CVIII.

WIT deals occasionally in various Fi­gures of Speech, for Example, in Metonymy and Metaphor. As you have now read Longinus, I need not ex­plain those Figures here.

He had Wit, who first called useless Learning, learned Lumber. A very learn­ed Man has been termed a Magazine of Learning; but if that Learning be confused and indigested, they aptly say, his Head is a Lumber-House of Learn­ing.

[Page 206]Religious Enthusiasts pretend to, what they call, inward Light, as a Warrant to their Belief and Actions; whence Hudi­bras says, with great Wit,

intimating that their pretended Light, if it were useful at all, was not so to any but themselves.

But Wit deals most in Similies; that is, in drawing Likenesses between Things of a different Nature; and the more surprizing and unexpected those Like­nesses are, and by how far the Things compared differ in their Kinds, by so much more is the Wit prized. There is one of this Kind in Hudibras, which [Page 207] has been much admired, and often quoted. Speaking of People, who are truly loyal, even in Disgrace and Afflic­tion, he says,

It is in Similies chiefly that most of our Poets, who deal in Wit, or pretend to it, have run Riot. What a Flood of them do we sometimes meet in Dramatic, and other Writers, introduced and pursued, without Rhyme or Reason! Every thing talked of is "like this," or "like that." Except a Simile be exceedingly well hit off, it had better be unattempted. Me­tonymy and Metaphor (which are indeed [Page 208] but concealed Similies) are, in my Opi­nion, an easier and genteeler Conveyance of our Ideas.

There is an admirable Sneer on these Strings of Similies, which some Authors are so fond of, in Swift's Introduction to The Tale of a Tub. "Wisdom," says that admirable Writer, ‘is a Fox, who, after long hunting, will, at last, cost you the Pains to dig out. It is a Cheese, which, by how much the richer, has the thicker, the homelier and the coarser Coat; and whereof, to a judicious Palate, the Meggots are the best. It is a Sack-Posset, wherein the deeper you go, you will find it the sweeter. Wisdom is a Hen, whose Cackling we must value and consider, [Page 209] because it is attended with an Egg. But then, lastly, it is a Nut, which, unless you chuse with Judgment, may cost you a Tooth, and pay you with nothing but a Worm.’

Had Swift been in earnest in these Similies, he would, at best, have appeared whimsically ridiculous; but, in-as-much as he meant them a Satire on Simile-Mongers in general, he is most unques­tionably witty; and the whole Air and Turn of the Introduction being facetious, nothing could be better suited to the Character of the Writer.

An Author should therefore well con­fider, in whose Mouth to put his Simi­lies. That will do well for one Person, [Page 210] which will, by no Means, suit another. I suppose Congreve's Comparison of Re­ligion and Politics to Oil and Vinegar, to be as witty as ever was said on any Occasion; yet because there is something wild in it, he has properly put it into the Mouth of a Madman, at least, a Cha­racter that appears so.

In the same Comedy, Jeremy contrives to beguile Tattle and Mrs. Frail into a Match with each other, when each was on the Hunt for a Fortune elsewhere. Ben, a rough Sailor, compares them hereon to a Couple of Privateers, who were looking out for a Prize, and fell foul of each other. This is admirably hu­morous and witty in itself, but derives double Beauty and Force from the Sailor's speaking it.

[Page 211]I shall conclude this Letter with a Transcript from the famous Mr. Locke, where he treats of the Difference between Wit and Judgment.

"If in having our Ideas in the Me­mory, ready at Hand, consists Quickness of Parts, in this of having them uncon­fused, and being able nicely to distin­guish one Thing from another, where there is but the least Difference, con­sists, in a great Measure, the Exactness of Judgment and Clearness of Reason, which is to be observed in one Man, above another. And, perhaps, hence may be given some Reason of that common Ob­servation, that Men, who have a great deal of Wit and prompt Memories, have not always the clearest Judgment or [Page 212] deepest Reason. For Wit lies most in the Assemblage of Ideas; and putting these together with Quickness and Variety, wherein can be found any Resemblance and Congruity, thereby to make up pleasant Pictures and agreeable Visions in the Fancy. Judgment, on the con­trary, lies quite on the other Side, in separating carefully, one from another, Ideas, wherein can be found the least Difference, thereby to avoid being misled by Similitude, and by Affinity to take one Thing for another.

"This is a Way of proceeding quite contrary to Metaphor and Allusion; wherein, for the most Part, lies that Entertainment and Pleasantry of Wit, [Page 213] which strikes so lively on the Fancy, and therefore so acceptable to all People, because its Beauty appears at first Sight, and there is required no Labour of Thought to examine what Truth or Rea­son there is in it. The Mind, without looking any further, rests satisfied with the Agreeableness of the Picture, and the Gaiety of the Fancy; and it is a kind of Affront to go about to examine it by the severe Rules of Truth and good Rea­son; whereby it appears that it consists in something that is not perfectly con­formable to them."

I would have you, my dear Nancy, con­sider attentively this Distinction between Wit and Judgment. It is the best phi­losophical [Page 214] Account of them that ever I met; though perhaps this Definition does not reach to Wit in its utmost Extent, at least, in the Sense of the Word, as used at present, and thence comes it so hard to be defined or described. Mr. Locke himself seems indeed somewhat sensible of this, for he, you perceive, always speaks with a sort of Exception and Doubt, as, in a great Measure—perhaps —for the most part, &c. &c.

I believe I shall have something more for you on this Subject the next Time I write, and then I shall quit it.

I have bespoke Vida for you in English, and all Pope's Epistles in Verse, among which are his Imitations from Horace. [Page 215] They shall come with the Books I men­tioned in my last.

LETTER CIX.

I Received yours of the 30th of last Month, with which I am very well pleased. I hope you have received one from me dated on the same Day with yours. In my last I exhausted almost every thing I had to say on the Topic [Page 216] of Wit and Humour; I shall only add, that, after all that can be said of them, they can only be considered as the Sea­soning of Comedy. The great Standard of all is good Sense, with Discernment, Judgment, and a thorough Knowledge of Mankind.

These must appear in the Plot, Con­struction, and Conduct of a Play; in the Sentiments; in the Manners; in the Characters; and in the Propriety of the Diction: our Vices, our Affections, and Passions; our Humours, Weaknesses, and Follies, as well as their Contraries, ought to be well understood, coloured, and expressed. Then all are to be sea­soned with Wit and Humour, in an easy and just Manner.

[Page 217]As for the Unities of Action, Time, and Place, which the Antients insist upon so strongly, especially that of Action, the best that can be said in their Behalf (in my Opinion) is, that it is better to have them, than be without them; for a Play, if it is not good in itself, will not become so, for the Unities being ever so religi­ously observed. We have many Plays extant, where they are all kept to the utmost Nicety, and yet the Pieces alto­gether are not worth a Perusal.

There are also Dramatic Productions, wherein the Rules are wholly set aside, which are the Admiration of every Reader of the most refined Taste. Our inimitable Shakespeare stands an Example of this, against all the cold Observers of Accura­cy, that ever did, or ever will exist.

[Page 218]Pray read what Longinus says of Plato and Lysias, Demosthenes and Hyperides, Ion and Sophocles.

As you have Horace's Art of Poetry, I shall send you an Abstract of it in my next, which I could wish you would compare carefully with the Poem itself, as you go through it.

I hope to hear from you soon. I have no Time for a longer Letter at present. My most humble Service to your Mama and Aunt.

LETTER CX.

I Have the Pleasure of yours of the 6th, and am pleased with it. You enter into the Subject spiritedly, and your Remarks are just.

I have collected all your Books; name­ly, Roscommon's and Buckingham's Essays, Boileau, Vida, Pope's Epistles from Ho­race, &c. (These last are sent to be new-bound) and the Arch-Bishop of Cambray on Eloquence. As these, together with Aristotle's Art of Poetry, and Longinus [Page 220] which you have already, will give yo just Ideas and form your Taste, so Le-Faucheur will give you a right No­tion of Pronunciation. He is said to be the best who ever wrote on that Point. He is greatly commended by those two famous Men Bayle and Le Clerc. I have got him for you in English, but I could not get him in French. It seems the Translator did not know who wrote the Original, but I well know it was Le-Faucheur. I think you ought to consider him well.

Aristotle may, perhaps, seem some­what hard and tedious, at first, but he is worth much Time and Labour. He is the great Original that all the Rest have followed. Use your Patience, but [Page 221] if, on such Trial, you find him require too much Attention, lay him aside, till you become a little older. Whenever you are acquainted with him, you will find him the true Master of true Cri­ticism.

All these Books shall be sent you one Day this Week, and you shall have previous Notice. I have some Business, which will engage me for two Days, so you may not hear from me till Wednesday or Thursday next.

My humble Service to your Mama and Aunt.

LETTER CXI.

I Have just now received yours of the 14th, I have a troublesome and te­dious Job on my Hands, yet I will set it aside a Moment to answer your Ques­tion about Terence.

The Sense, the Conduct, Characters, Sentiments and Diction of this Author (I am speaking of the Original) are wonderfully fine; but the great Julius Caesar complained that he wanted the Vis Comica, that is, (translated literally) [Page 223] the comic Force or Strength. I presume Caesar meant Humour; and in that he assuredly fell infinitely short of Plautus, who alone is the other comic Poet of Rome that is left us.

I am entirely of your Opinion in Regard to the two Plays you mention. The Squire of Alsatia is a Disgrace to the Drama, to Letters, common Sense, and common Decency, and yet there have been Audiences found to encou­rage the Representation.

The Hint of the Plain Dealer is evi­dently taken from the Misantrope of Mo­liere, but there is a great Exception to this Comedy, in Point of Decorum; which is to be much lamented when we [Page 224] consider the vast Fund of Wit, wherewith it abounds.

You will have all your Books by Bew's Coach on Wednesday next. My Service at Home.

LETTER CXII.

I Have sent the Books according to Promise.

Herewith you have a short Abstract of Vida's Art of Poetry. If any Part [Page 225] appears unintelligible, the Poem itself will clear it up. To that I refer you. I have already given my Reasons, why I send Extracts from a Poem, which you have at Hand.

I will be more particular as to those Reasons, that you may be very clear in my Meaning—

You may, perhaps, think that I might have spared myself the Pains of transcribing, and you the Pains of reading these Abstracts. But, in my Opinion, they will be of some, and even of more Use than if you had not the Books. All the Heads are but short Hints and Items, which would be of little Service without the Authors, at [Page 226] large. The Authors explain and en­force what is in my little Abridg­ments, and those very Abridgments impress deeper in your Mind what the Author has said. They reciprocally aid each other. The Abstracts serve yet further to sort the different Heads and Precepts, and to range them in order; so that you may thereby obtain a distinct and well-disposed View of them all at once.

You shall next have an Abstract from Boileau. These are all to be read with great Care; and I must warn you that there are several Errors in the Printing, especially in Pope's Epistles, and in the Essays of Buckingham and [Page 227] Roscommon. Those you must notice, and correct, as they occur.

Faucheur is an excellent Book. As I told you formerly, I am not for your setting up for a Critick, but I would have you attain to a just Idea of the Nature and Excellencies of fine Writ­ting, and to form a right Judgment; towards which it is with great Plea­sure that I contribute, from time to time, such Assistance as lies within my poor Ability. Write to me on Receipt of the Box.

I am, with Service to your Mama and Aunt,

P. S. Although Vida treats only of the Epic Poem, he has many useful Rules, which are applicable to every other Species of Poetry.

LETTER CXIII.

I Hope you have received your Books safe, and found the Letter which was with them in the Box.

I here send you an Abstract of Boileau's Art of Poetry, as I did of Vida there. I have two or three Things to recommend to you in reading these Authors.

[Page 229]In the first Place, you should con­sider the great Rules, on which the Rest depend, and which are laid down by all, or, at least, the major Part of these Critics. These great Rules may be thus comprehended;

Good Sense is the Foundation of all good Writing.

In the next Place, observe such Rules as are in few, or but in one of these Authors. These are more likely to escape your View, and therefore should be more carefully searched for, and attended to.

[Page 230]You should not run over these Rules carelessly, and in a cursory Manner, but deliberately, both with Attention and Application.

Sometimes reflect, at Leisure, upon one Rule or Head, sometimes upon another, and endeavour to account to yourself for the Reason of such Rule. If you cannot clearly satisfy yourself, ask some Person, or write to me. It may be no unprofitable, nor unpleasant Diversion to enter on a Disquisition of that Kind.

One Caution, by the Bye. Do not load your Head with all these Rules lumbered together in a confused, indi­gested Heap, but strive to understand them clearly and minutely by a pa­tient, [Page 231] and leisurely Attention, and you will reap the Fruit of them in due Time.

When you cannot see quite through the Reason of any Proposition, and yet are desirous to account for it by your­self, rather suspend your Search, than re­main content with a poor imperfect So­lution of the Difficulty; of all Things, never rest satisfied with Absurdities, which many Persons are too apt to do, some from Oversight, some from, mere Lazi­ness. Such Errors are attended with a double Disadvantage. In the first In­stance, no Progress is made, in our Stu­dies; in the next, the Time is lost, which might have been employed to some Pur­pose.

[Page 232]The Books, which I have sent you, have, I believe, many Errata, or Mis-Printings in them; a due Observation of the Advice given above, will not only enable you to discover those, but also to supply the true Meaning of the Author.

Remember that, next to Epic Poetry, Tragedy and Comedy are the great Spe­cies of Writing. Tragedy indeed is it­self a Species of the Epic. I do not re­commend them to you merely that you should read Plays, (according to the Ac­ceptation of dissipated People, who pass, or rather waste an idle Hour, over what they neither comprehend nor retain) but as moral Treatises; for no dramatic Works, but what have this Tendency, [Page 233] answer the Ends they were designed for, or are worth your Attention.

I could wish you would improve your­self in reading; it is a nice Art, and known but to few. You promise, I think, to excel in it. When engaged in a Poem, you would do well to repeat aloud sometimes. It is of Service to the Breath, if not done to Excess, and will be of great Use; for many Errors will be discovered by the Ear, that are come at by no other Means. For the Rules of Pronunciation, Le Faucheur is the best Instructor extant among the Mo­derns.

But all these Rules, however well un­derstood, will be of small Use, without [Page 234] knowing the great Models from which these Rules are drawn; you should there­fore read the best Authors in the different Sorts of Poetry.

The Antients lay down these three Things necessary to perfect us in any Sci­ence; first, ‘Art—that is, Precept or Rule;’

Imitation— that is, an Endeavour to study the best Models, and follow their Manner; and, ‘Exercitation—namely, Practice.’

Vida, as you may observe, is the most regular of all these Essayists. His first Book is on ‘ [Page 235]Invention, or the Provision of Matter;’ the next is

The Disposition, or Well-ordering of that Matter;

the third is

The Beautifying and Adorning of that Matter.

These are the three great Points to be observed not only in Poetry, but in Ora­tory; and in almost every Art and Sci­ence, as Painting, Sculpture, Building, &c.

LETTER CXIV.

I Received yours of the 22d, and an­swered it forthwith, but have kept the Answer by me, having been in hourly Expectation of a Recruit of Franks, and they are but now arrived. You have neglected to notice one or two Circum­stances, which I enquired about. I wish you would always place the Letter be­fore you, which you are about to answer, and answer Correspondents as soon as you can after you hear from them. What you thus say while the Feelings are [Page 237] and lively, though contained in six Lines alone, is worth a whole Vo­lume, that is damped by the Coldness of Delay.

I never read Cleveland, but am told it is an excellent Book, and shews les Plis et les Replis de Coeur humain very agreeably and accurately.

I think you should read Vida first very carefully; then Horace; next to him Boi­leau; then Pope's Criticism, Buckingham, and Roscommon, progressively. The Arch­bishop of Cambray and Le-Faucheur, may come in last.

Such Particulars as are treated by more than one of them, ought to be compared, after you have gone through the Au­thors. [Page 238] For Example, I would have you collect and compare all they have said upon Epic Poetry together; upon Ode, Satire, Tragedy, and Comedy; and when you have Leisure, write a sort of Abridg­ment of them, for your own Use.

You should make yourself a perfect Mistress of the principal Figures of Speech; such as Metaphor, Simile, Al­legory, Metonymy, Irony, &c. Con­greve's Letter on Humour is a most ad­mirable Piece. The Preface, or Intro­tion to Joseph Andrews, about Ridicule, is well worth considering. Fielding is an excellent Judge of Nature and Mankind. Congreve's Epistle to Sir Richard Temple, on Affectation, and another, under the Name of Cobham, are equally excellent.

[Page 239]I am heartily sorry you do not under­stand Latin, on many Accounts; among the rest, that you cannot read Vida in the Original. Though the Translation must be allowed pretty good, yet there is no coming up to the Beauties of the Author's Lines.

If I mistake not, Cleveland is a Ro­mance; there may, perhaps, be some Truth in it; but I never read nor heard of a natural Son of Cromwell's under that Name, which, had the Story been true, must have been known long before now.

LETTER CXV.

I Received yours of the 27th in due Course. I have written to you on so many Subjects, that I am almost ex­hausted; and latterly you have not entered into what I have said sufficiently to give me a Handle for proceeding. It is true, I cannot but admit your Excuse, in Part, to wit, your having so much to do during your Mother's Indisposition. Your At­tion to her must create you full Employ­ment, and you are right not to let any Consideration interrupt that pious Care. [Page 241] I most heartily acquit you from the Use of Pen and Ink, till you are at better Leisure, and will, in the mean Time, endeavour to give you Amusement.

I thought to have said something about Figures in Writing, but you now have Longinus and Vida, who explain them much better than I can.

In a Letter I wrote you lately, I ob­served there is a great deal of Satire in true Comedy. I have now to add, that there is a great deal of Irony in Satire. This is a very extensive Figure, and con­verts itself into many Shapes. Sometimes it is direct, pointed, and sharp; some­times it appears in the Shape of Praise. It occasionally counterfeits Love, Pity, [Page 242] Fear, in short, what not? Sometimes it lurks in Metaphor, Allegory, Compari­son, Fable, &c. Dr. Swift has varied it so many Ways, and all so naturally and pleasantly, that the Study of his Works, especially The Tale of a Tub, and the Pieces bound up with it, gives us a bet­ter Idea of true Irony, in all its Branches, than any Description is capable of af­fording.

The Tale of a Tub has represented the Fopperies and Absurdities of the Roman Catholic Tenets more glaringly than the gravest Discourse in the World could have done, and that under a Story taken from common Life. In that Author's other Works, he has exposed an hundred Fol­lies in so droll a Manner, that they strike [Page 243] us in that Way beyond the Power of the most solemn Essay or Declamation. How has he exposed all Kinds and Degrees of Vain-Glory and Affectation, by imi­tating the very Fault he is exposing! In how contemptible and just a Light has he placed the Custom of punning, of talking always proverbially, and all idle Discourse, in his Polite Conversation! In short, it is needless to say more than that the whole Art of Ridicule is to be learned from Swift.

The only Addition I have to make to this Subject, is to quote you one Instance of Irony from the Holy Scriptures, which I think as strong and as just as any I ever read. It is in Ridicule of the Priests of Baal, who was a false God; an Idol, [Page 244] and no more. His Priests invoked him to perform a Miracle. Elijah mocketh them. The Reasons which he assigns for their God not answering their Interces­sions, are the severest Piece of Raillery imaginable.

"Cry aloud," says he, ‘for he is a God; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a Journey; or, peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked.’

All which Charges being so unworthy of a God, the Raillery is conceived, in its full Force, the Moment the Prophet opens his Mouth, and must be under­stood by the most ordinary Capacity. The whole Chapter is worth your read­ing. [Page 245] It is the 18th of the first Book of Kings.

I do not recollect if I ever mentioned to you the 58th Chapter of Isaiah. If I did, you have not noticed it in any of your Letters; if I did not, I now re­commend it to you. It is admirable, as far as respects the Subject itself; but the Disposition of the Chapter, the Repeti­tions, the Emphasis and Energy, and the many Figures introduced, make it admirably worth your Notice. The Chap­ter is still more excellent, in-as-much as it is full of strong Figures, yet appears exceedingly simple and plain. This is the great Beauty of Diction, when the Figures are so naturally brought in, that [Page 246] we feel their Effect, before we perceive them. They strike unseen.

Dryden says, ‘Figures ought to be worked into a Discourse, as if they were Part of the Tissue itself, not em­bossed upon it.’

The Allusion is excellent, and the Ob­servation just.

LETTER CXVI.

I Have yours of the third of this Month. You have not yet entered into any of the late Subjects I wrote to you about, but your former Excuse, I presume, still exists, and it is too strong to be op­posed.

It is not material whether you ever read Polite Conversation again or no; the Moral of that Satire is too obvious to re­quire much Attention, it being designed only to ridicule the insipid Conversation [Page 248] that passes too ordinarily among the most fashionable People. And can it well be wondered at, when so little Attention is paid to the Education of Children, whether Male or Female, in higher Life? To qualify them for Company (such is the fashionable Phrase) is the chief Object of Parents in that Style; that is, to make a Bow, dance a Minuet, and play at Cards. The two first I acknowledge to be agreeable, and even necessary Quali­fications, provided they are accompanied with something intrinsic. But while so much Care is employed in gracing the Outside, surely some little might be used in cultivating the Mind. Perhaps Master is sent to some public Seminary, and Miss to a Boarding-School; at both which Places, I am sorry to say, the moral Part [Page 249] of Education is the last attended to, if it be at all. They are quickly launched into Life (poor Souls!) and possibly to the most important State of Life, Matri­mony, (as Family-Purposes and Interests lead, or rather, too often mislead) with­out a single Idea to bless themselves with, or even knowing that there is such a Thing as a Mind to inspire and regulate their earthly Composition.

The Reason for calling The Tale of a Tub by that Name, is, I think, pretty plain. We call any idle, romantic Story, A Tale of a Tub, and if this Story of Swift's were to be taken in a literal Sense, none ever more justly deserved the Name.

[Page 250]I would have you look often on the Abstract of Vida, while you are reading him. Besides the Beauty of his Stile, the Worth, Weight, and Importance of his Subject, besides these I say, the Order, Disposition, and Method of his Poem, is admirable; preferable, in my Opinion, to all the rest.

You should read Boileau with great Care, and make the same Use of your Abstracts with them all. Have you yet got a thorough Conception of the prin­cipal Figures in Rhetoric and Poetry, the chief, I mean, which I pointed out to you? I hope to have an Answer to this Question soon, and your Observa­tions on those Passages in the Holy Scrip­tures which I recommended. Your Let­ters [Page 251] are always acceptable and entertain­ing, my dear Nancy, to

P. S. I wish you would mention the Dates of my Letters, when you acknow­ledge the Receipt of them.

LETTER CXVII.

I Have the Pleasure of yours of the 10th. You say there are some Fi­gures, which you do not, in any wise, understand. Add to Longinus, Vida's Discourse on this Point, in his third [Page 252] Book, and you must acquire a due No­tion of the principal Figures or Tropes, both in Poetry and Rhetoric. Metaphor is the chief of all; and even the princi­pal Figures, next to Metaphor, are but Species or Branches of it.

A Metaphor is the Use of a Word in a borrowed Sense. The principal Pro­perties and Uses of it, are,

First, to express Things for which we have not suitable Words or Phrases;

Secondly, to express them so strongly, as to convey deep and agreeable Im­pressions;

Thirdly, to give us the Representation and Resemblance of two Things at once.

[Page 253]In short, it is like a Picture, where the Resemblance to the Thing painted gives us the chief Pleasure.

Near the Beginning of the third Book of Vida's Art of Poetry, there is this glo­rious Description of Metaphor:

[Page 254] After producing some beautiful Instan­ces where the Metaphor is thus happily introduced, he proceeds, and illustrates his Sentiment with a Simile, which deserves our highest Admiration;

[Page 255]We have no adequate Words in our Language to express the Intenseness of Love, or the Extravagance of any vio­lent Passions; for which Reason it is very common to make use of Metaphor in our usual Discourse; for Example, we burn with Love—we are inflamed with Rage, &c. We say of a Man who is of a kind Disposition, that he has a warm Heart, of one otherwise disposed, that he has a cold, or a hard Heart. We melt into Tears; we sink with Grief; we swell with Anger; our Hearts leap with Joy; we die with Fear; and so on. Virgil, describing Dido concealing her Love, says, ‘She feeds within her Veins a Flame unseen.’

[Page 256]In the Holy Scriptures these metapho­rical Expressions are frequently met. God hides his Face, or shines upon us, viz.

In other Instances, where we use Me­taphors to express Things with more Strength, and make a deeper Impression, for a dull Discourse, we say a cold, life­less Discourse. A Poet, instead of tell­ing us, the Side-Board was filled with Plate, says, ‘The Side-Board groan'd with Plate.’

[Page 257]Metaphor is sometimes used to bring the Thing, from which it is borrowed, before our Eyes, that we may enjoy the Beauty of the Similitude. Cowley says, ‘The beechen Bowl foams with a Flood of Wine;’ and Pope, ‘A Tide of Trojans flow, and fill the Place.’ What a beautiful Resemblance is this! It not only presents us with the Idea of a great Crowd breaking into an Intrench­ment, but likewise with that of a raging Sea breaking over its Banks; and to add to both, conveys the perfect Resemblance which each bears to the other.

Sometimes the Metaphor of a Meta­phor is made use of; for Example, we [Page 258] usually call a dull Preacher a heavy Preach­er. Pope carries this Word heavy, which in itself is a Metaphor, to a Metaphor be­yond it, where he says, in his new Dunciad, — — — leaden Gilbert preach'd. Heavy is a metaphorical Expression for dull, and leaden for heavy.

I will trouble you no further, till I know whether you chuse I should thus proceed to perfect you in the Knowledge of Figures; if you do, I shall bring you acquainted with the rest of the metapho­rical Family, their Relations, and De­scendants.

P. S. I know you will drink my Health to-morrow.

LETTER CXVIII.

YOU cannot conceive how much you have pleased me, in submitting to so unentertaining a Subject for a Letter, rather than be without Instruc­tion. It is but undergoing a little dis­agreeable Labour now, to reap the Plea­sure hereafter; for that you certainly will; and without a thorough Knowledge of the Grounds of Rhetorick, the most elegant Author or Orator can never take a proper Possession of you.

[Page 260]You ask, in your last, about Polyp­totes, and Gradations; I shall therefore make them the Subject of this Letter.

Their ordinary Names are Polyptoton, and Climax, which are both Greek Words. I need not here insert what Longinus says of them, but refer you to him. I shall only observe that, beside the Substitution of one Number or Tense for another, (which is the Polyptoton) or rather the Licence of so doing, there is often great Beauty in it; especially in the Greek and Latin Languages, and chiefly in the former, owing to the Variety of Terminations in their Verbs and Nouns. The French Lan­guage too exceeds ours in this parti­cular, [Page 261] though it falls very short of the other two.

That you may clearly understand what I mean, take the following Example in French.

Do you not here perceive a beautiful Variety in the Persons and Tenses? Take the same in English, and you will dis­cover a total Want of it.

Here you see nothing but love and loved all along, and this, I presume, explains what I mean.

The Climax is a noble and beau­tiful Figure, when managed with­out Affectation. We ascend from one Step to another, building, as it were, something on something laid down be­fore, till we come to the great Point, at which we aim. I will give you two Instances, one on a ludicrous, the other on a solemn Subject. How excellently is the Tumult and Confusion increased in the Poem of the Alley, (which I sent you some Time since) from a Girl's Whim­pering [Page 263] to a Boy's roaring, Dogs barking, Vixens scolding, and Swine grunting! Again, How beautiful is the Gradation of Distress in Congreve's Pastora!

This Figure, you may observe by the foregoing Example, is generally accom­panied by Repetition. I will add one more Instance from the great Tillotson, not only to illustrate this Figure, (which indeed it does to an Excellency) but also [Page 264] for the Beauty, Justness, and Utility of the Observation.

You will observe that this great Master of Eloquence avoids repeating the same Word too literally, but uses a Sort of Variation, to give a greater Beauty to [Page 265] his Discourse, and to avoid seeming af­fected, to which Censure an exact Re­petition would probably have exposed him.

The Omission of Copulatives adds much Grace to a Discourse, on some Occasions, particularly in Haste or Passion; for Instance, Go—run—fly—be quick, &c. and on others, great Beauty is derived from their being multiplied. The Quo­tation, I have already made from the Arch-Bishop, wherein the Word and is found no less than six Times, renders it unnecessary to seek further for an Ex­ample.

I may probably take another Oppor­tunity to enlarge somewhat further on [Page 266] these two opposite Figures. I hope to see you about Christmas.

P. S. After finishing the above, my Dear, yours of Yesterday came to Hand, and is there answered. I thank God, I am very well, and drank your Health, your Mama's and Aunt's on the four­teenth, as you did mine. Your Letter gives me much Pleasure.

Encore, adios! ma chere.

LETTER CXIX.

AS you now understand a Meta­phor, I shall say no more on that Head, but consider the Figures, which [Page 267] are near a-kin to it. These are, Meto­nymy, Synecdoche, Hyperbole, Irony, Simile, Allegory, Fable, and Cata­chresis.

Before I proceed, let me transcribe a Passage out of Blackwell's new Intro­duction to the Classics, with a little Ad­dition. You may get Acquaintance with this odd Family, through his Means, I dare say. He is intimate with them.

There is a general Analogy and Re­lationship between all Tropes; and in all of them we use a foreign or strange Word, instead of one that is proper. Hence we sometimes say one Thing, and mean another quite different; but this is not always the Cafe. These [Page 268] Tropes, like other Relations in Life, are some nearer, some farther removed.

When we advance one Thing, and then say some other, which has a near Affinity to it, it is a Synecdoche.

When we say one Thing, and mean another mutually depending, it is a Metonymy.

When we say one Thing, and mean the very opposite, it is Irony.

When we say one Thing, and mean another like to it, it is a Metaphor.

A Metaphor long continued is an Allegory.

[Page 269]An Allegory turned into a Story is called a Fable, and in the Scripture-Language is a Parable.

When a Metaphor is carried into a great Degree of Boldness it is an Hy­perbole; and when it is far-fetched, or carries some Impropriety in it, 'tis a Catachresis.

The Metaphor is the Source and Foun­tain of them all; and lies chiefly in Verbs;

Metonymy lies most in Nouns, and this is the best Distinction I can make be­tween them.

To exemplify the latter, We call a wise Man a Cato or a Solomon; a strong Man, a Hercules; a handsome Youth, [Page 270] an Adonis; a fine Woman, a Venus, or an Angel.

The Instance is preserved too between rational Creatures, and Brutes. A rude Fellow is termed a Bear, a bold Fel­low, a Lyon. "Go, tell that Fox," &c. says our Saviour, speaking of Herod, who was a cunning, supple, fawning Prince.

Again, between animate, and inani­mate Beings; a fine Woman is a Jewel, a Rose, a Lilly. "Our God," says the Prophet, "is a consuming Fire." "I am the Vine," declares our Saviour; and even names himself by Appellations of Qualities and Virtues, as well as by those of inanimate Beings— viz.—"I am the Way," "the Truth," "the Life."

[Page 271]Rivers are often named to imply the Country through which they pass, es­pecially if they be the chief Rivers; as in a Line of Prior, ‘Her Warriors Anna sends from Tweed and Thames."’

To use a Metonymy properly, we should start a new Thought; else it is to no Purpose; for why should we Call any one a Sir Francis Wronghead, un­less we design to paint him under that Character? If Prior had meant Tweed and Thames in a proper Sense, there would have been no Meaning in the Expression at all.

The Figure Synecdoche is defined by a Part being placed for the Whole, [Page 272] as "My dear Heart." The Romans said, My dear Head! Honest Heart! Honest Breast! &c. It is again seen, when the Containing is used for the Contained, as, Drink this Glass—Eat of this Dish—The whole Theatre burst into Tears— Greece was in Confusion— Africa was in Arms—The Rhine and Danube made their Submissions to Caesar. Again, when Plurals are used for Singulars. As if a veteran Actor should say, Your Quins and your Cibbers were not comparable to the Bettertons and Barrys of the former Age.

This Figure is used both to extoll and depreciate, as you will easily discern. Great Judgment is required in the Ma­nagement of this, and indeed of all. [Page 273] Nothing is more ridiculous than a Fi­gure ill-placed.

There is a Passage in Claudian so ex­cellent, that I must insert it. You will discover in it, the Metaphor, the Meto­nymy, the Synecdoche, and the Hyper­bole. It loses a great Deal of its Beauty, to be sure, when stripped of the Original Language; where it runs thus—

—Maduerunt Saxone fuso Orcades; incaluit Pictorum Sanguine Thule; Scotorum Cumulos flevit glacialis Ierne. This literally translated, is, ‘The Orkneys were drenched, the Saxon being overthrown; Thule grew warm with the Blood of the Picts, and the icy River Ierne mourned, in Tears, the Heaps of the Scots, that were slain.’

[Page 274]In my next, I shall go through the other Tropes, and shew you the Dif­ference between what is called a Trope, and what a Figure. In the mean Time I leave it to you to find out where the Beauties of the above-cited Passage of Claudian lye.

LETTER CXX.

I Have not heard from you since Sunday last, so not having any Thing to an­swer, I shall resume my Discourse, where I left off.

[Page 275]I shall not make any Mention of Irony, as you understand it sufficiently; nor need I say much of Hyperbole. It is only an Exaggeration of Things be­yond the Reality, to make a deeper Im­pression, or to give us a stronger Idea of what is meant to be conveyed to the Mind. We often run naturally into this, as indeed all Figures have their Source from our Passions and Sensibilities. How common is it to say, sweeter than Ho­ney, whiter than Snow, when, in Truth, we mean no more than to say, very sweet, and very white.

An Hyperbole, like Irony, appears in the Shape of other Figures, sometimes in Similies, as, like the Snow for White­ness; and there are Degrees in the Hy­perbole, [Page 276] as in the Simile; for, speaking of any antient Custom, we often say, as old as the Creation; and, when we would raise the Comparison higher, we say, older than the Creation. This Fi­gure is noble, when judiciously used, but when improperly, it is harsh, un­couth, and degenerates into a Catachre­sis. There are so many noble Hyperboles in Homer and Virgil, and particularly in the Holy Writings, that it is needless to quote them.

A bold Metaphor becomes an Hyper­bole, a strong extravagant Hyperbole becomes a Catachresis, and even in this there is some Beauty, when introduced with Judgment.

[Page 277]A Metaphor and Hyperbole are some­times softened by a Comparison; and there is a Manner of expressing that Com­parison, whereby not only the two first Figures, but even the third itself, is sof­tened; and this is sometimes necessary to be contrived, to avoid Expressions which otherwise would be too strong.

All these shall be spoken of in their due Places, but I shall confine the Re­mainder of this Letter solely to the Hy­perbole.

In the first Place, an Hyperbole may be direct, as ‘The Giant's Head o'ertopp'd the Clouds;’ and the Beauty of the Image presented, and Manner of the Description, frequently [Page 278] set off this Figure, and totally conceal the Extravagance of the Fancy. Virgil gives us an Example of this in the ninth Book of his Aeneid, near the End. He tells us, Camilla

This Passage is very beautiful, as Dry­den has rendered it, but it is ten Times more so in the Original. Virgil says,

This is a literal Translation; but no Description can reach the Beauties of the Original. Observe the pleasing Meta­phors of flying instead of running fast; of hurting the Grain instead of treading it down; and the Word which I have ren­dered dipp'd, is in the Latin tingeret, and conveys less than dipping; it implies no more than wetting or tincturing.

An Hyperbole, in the next Place, may be indirect, as in a Comparison; thus,

When Hyperboles are very strong, the Subject or the Object at the instant, the Hurry, Heat, and Passion, ought not only to deserve, but even to require them.

I shall conclude this Letter with one Example from the Holy Scriptures, where the Boldness of the Figure, in my Opinion, exceeds every thing of that Kind, which can any where be found; and surely the Occasion not only requires, but commands it. I think it is the Pro­phet Isaiah, who, speaking of poor Mor­tals in Comparison with the infinitely great and powerful God, says,

Does not this strike us with a prodi­gious Idea of the infinite Disproportion between God and us?

Though these Figures are easily un­derstood yet it requires much Nicety and Attention to discover how, when, and where they are to be applied, what Degree of Force or Abatement is to be used in the Application, and how they should be dressed out for the Purpose.

LETTER CXXI.

YOU observe very truly, that if the Word as were taken out from the Passages of the Canticles, which you quoted, they would be still more beau­tiful; and indeed it is not in the Origi­nal. You see the as is in Italick Cha­racters, which is constantly used when Words, that were not in the Original, are added to make the Sense more intel­ligible, or to suit the warm Expressions of the Oriental Language to the Coldness of ours.

[Page 283]The Simile, or Comparison, is a Figure easily comprehended, but a skilful Per­son alone knows how and when to use it. One general and unerring Caution belongs to this, as well as to the other Tropes a-kin to it; namely, that Baseness or Meanness, Impropriety, Loathsomeness, Obscenity, and Prophaneness, are to be avoided. A low and unworthy Comparison should never interfere with a grand Sub­ject. Homer is blamed for this in many In­stances. I shall mention only one; to wit, where he compares Ajax to an Ass. I refer you to what Vida had advanced in his Disfavour, and Pope in his Defence. There is however great Propriety in the Comparison, that lies in the Action or Behaviour of the one and the other, on the Occasions that Homer mentions, [Page 282] [...] [Page 283] [...] [Page 284] though not in the Person of Ajax and the Ass; but even the Introduction of them any how in a Likeness together, or pre­senting the Idea of one with the other, seems to debase the Thing compared. Virgil, says Vida, would never have done this, and indeed we find him delicate in his Applications, and ever studiously cautious to avoid low and gross Com­parisons.

There is a most disgustful Simile in one of Pope's Epistles, about Westphalia Hogs; nothing but the Loathsomeness of the Vice he is decrying, and his De­sign of making it detestable, can ex­cuse it.

Prophane Comparisons shock People of Virtue, as much as People of Breed­ing. [Page 285] I will give you one Instance, which I have many Times heard with Pain. When any one has talked or acted in an unintelligible or unaccountable Manner, I have heard a Pretender at Wit exclaim, ‘Oh! that's like the Peace of God, it passeth all Understanding;’ alluding prophanely to the Benediction at the End of the Communion-Service. Words and Phrases, which have been sanctified and consecrated in an especial Manner to re­ligious Purposes, ought not idly to be played with and scoffed at. Some Per­sons were so warm in the Revolution-Interest, that they called King William the Saviour of the Nation. It is true there was no actual Harm in this, but another Term might have been found, and with a better Grace, while we have so constant [Page 286] and material an Idea devoted to the Word Saviour.

Pope has been blamed by some Persons for calling Agamemnon, King of Kings; that Appellation having been so solemnly consecrated to God, in the Revelations, and elsewhere in the Holy Writings.

We are not to expect a Comparison should hit in every Particular; it is enough if the Thing, to which we allude, agree with the Thing compared in the prin­cipal Point or Points, that we intend to illustrate.

A short Comparison is easily turned into a Metaphor; but where it runs into a Length of Circumstances, it is impos­sible [Page 287] to do it. For Example, when Vir­gil, in the twelfth Book of the Aeneid, compares Aeneas and Turnus, in the Heat of the Battle, to two Torrents rushing down a Precipice, and laying every thing waste before them; and again, near the End of the Book, where he likens the same Heroes, Turnus flying, and Aeneas pursuing, to a Deer and a Hound, the Particulars are so many, and the Illus­tration so extensively beautiful, that it would not be comprized within the Compass of a Metaphor.

Where the Metaphor would be too hard or obscure, then a Simile is neces­sary; for Instance, it would have been uncouth in Homer to have called Hector a sudden Night, or a snowy Mountain; in [Page 288] the one Place therefore he says, ‘he came on the Greeks like sudden Night,’ which creates a strong Idea of Terror; and in the other, "like a snowy Mountain," from his Figure being so conspicuous, and his shining Arms.

Let me here digress a Moment, and raise your Admiration, perhaps, your In­dignation. Some piddling Criticks, who, forsooth, would have a Comparison hit in every Particular, and look in the wrong Place for the Simile, have found Fault with the last I mentioned. " What," say they, ‘does a snowy Mountain move?’ as if the Essence of the Simile consisted in the Motion. No, surely, the Beauty is only in the awful Appear­ance of a Mountain covered with Snow, [Page 289] which Hector resembled when he moved along, towering in his Stature, and shining in his Arms.

As Comparisons need not be exact in every Particular, so sometimes a Poet of a sublime Genius will run his Descrip­tion beyond the Comparison, when any singular Quality or Circumstance strikes upon his Fancy, though it has nothing to do with the Comparison itself, or the Matter that introduced it. Whether this is strictly allowable by the nice Rules of Criticism, I shall not determine; but surely it is very natural, and, in my Opinion, highly beautiful. The French call these Comparisons à longue Queue. Many of them are to be found in Homer and Milton. They are not so frequent in [Page 290] Virgil, though I shall instance you one from him, because it is but short, and has been the Subject of much Alterca­tion among the learned. It is in the first Book of the Aeneid, and thus translated by Dryden,

[Page 291] Trapp's Translation is more literal and nearer to the Words of Virgil, than Dry­den's; well it might, you will say, in-as-much as he was not fettered to Rhyme.

The Passage about Latona is, in the Ori­ginal, literally thus, ‘Joys beat quite thro' Latona's silent Breast ^*.’ [Page 292] but there is no coming up to Virgil himself.

Now what I mean particularly to ob­serve, is, the Circumstance of Latona's Joy. This has nothing to do with the Comparison itself, and therefore some Critics wish it had been omitted. I am not one of their Number. I think it adds great Beauty to the Passage. Is any thing more lovely than such a Reflection as this? Would it not immediately and almost irresistibly strike a Poet of a noble Fancy? And is it not highly natural that a Parent should be in Transport at the Sight of a Child in such an Attitude, if I may so express myself? "The chief among ten thousand," as the Scrip­ture [Page 293] terms it, and according to Otway, (if I do not err) ‘Among ten thousand eminently known?’ Does not the Poet give us also a lovely Instance of Decorum, in describing the Parent modestly attempting to conceal her Transports of Joy, too delicate in her Feelings to exult openly? How ju­dicious a Writer was Virgil!

The Fancy and Judgment of a Poet is not more conspicuous in any Particu­lar, than in a noble and apt Simile ele­gantly expressed; for which Reason, I could wish you, my dear, to remark such carefully in all your reading, but more especially in these three great Poets, Ho­mer, Virgil, and Milton.

[Page 294]I may possibly, some Time or other, shew you the vast Excellency of this Comparison (just quoted) in the Original, and how far it exceeds the Translation. I have little more to add at present, than to observe, Comparisons may be varied, heightened, or moderated and tempered, by way of adapting them better to your Purpose; nor need a Poet be confined to as, so, or like; for you perceive Vir­gil sometimes says, have you, or have you not seen, &c. You would think, &c. When he wishes to soften a strong Comparison, his Phrase is, you would be tempted to be­lieve; when to strengthen one, you would have sworn, and so on. I only give you Hints; you can enlarge on them in your own Mind; not that I mean to induce you to turn Poet; but to understand the [Page 295] preliminary Rules by which Things ought to be done, is the Method of tasting them, when done, and the most certain Means of distinguishing the Beau­ties and Merits of one Author from another.

I fear I have sufficiently tired you, but it is worth your while to understand this Topic well. I shall be concise in my Definition of Allegory, Fable, and Catachresis, and then I have done with Tropes.

LETTER CXXII.

I Shall now explain Allegory and Fa­ble, and then give you Time to breathe awhile, for I fear I grow tire­some to you; but it is your Good which I intend by my long Letters; and Pre­cepts, delivered in this Mode of Dis­course between Friends, often make a deeper Impression, than what are to be found in Books, although they may be better explained there. Besides, there are several Things only cursorily explained by Longinus, and even by Cicero and [Page 297] Quintilian, who have enlarged much more on these Heads. There are more­over, in the Course of what I write, several little Observations of my own, which if they do you but little Service, will do you as little Harm.

Allegory is said to be a String of Me­taphors; but I think this Description de­fective; for unless that Series of Meta­phors depends on some one particular Point, it is either a faulty Allegory, or, rather, no Allegory at all. To explain what I mean, I will quote a Passage from Shakespeare's Hamlet.

[Page 298]This has been much censured as a faulty Allegory, because the Writer flies from one Allusion to another, from Slings to taking up of Arms—against what?— a Sea—and then opposing a Sea, &c. Now if Shakespeare meant this for an Allegory, it is doubtless very faulty; but I verily believe that was not his Meaning. I am of Opinion that he only took the first strong Metaphor which came into his Head, to express himself forcibly and pathetically, and then another, and ano­ther, as the Subject rose upon them, but had no idea of making them connected with, or dependent on each other. I will not venture to affirm I am right, but I am certain that one of the most judicious and correct Authors that ever wrote Comedy, does the self-same Thing; [Page 299] I mean Terence. He makes one of his Characters say,

This, you see, is liable to the very same Exception with the former, the Metaphor not being continued in the same Kind; but I believe neither Author had even the most distant Notion of an Al­legory.

In the Passion of Biblis, in Ovid's Metamorphorsis, you have a perfect Alle­gory drawn from Sea-faring.

Here you see the Images are perfect and uniform. I will quote another from Prior's Henry and Emma, which is very beautiful;

Here also you find the Allegory finely pursued throughout; yet not so scru­pulously, as not to depart a little from it in the fourth Line, ‘ [Page 301]And Fortune's Favour fills, &c. ^*’

From Allegory there is an easy Tran­sition to little proverbial Sayings, and to Fables, which are but Allegories worked up into a Story. Our Saviour's Parables are of this Kind, exactly in Character, and obvious to every Understanding. [Page 302] Aesop, it is true, takes the Liberty to make Birds and Beasts speak, but, bar­ring that, he always adheres to Charac­ter. There ought to be a Moral couched in all Fables, or to no Purpose are they spoke or written.

Comparisons, proverbial Speeches, Pa­rables and Fables, may be easily convert­ed, the one into the other.

Sometimes the Moral is expressed, sometimes understood. By some Writers it is set in Front, as by Fontaine; by some, at the End, as by Aesop; and oc­casionally it is placed in the Middle of the Work.

Those moral Sentences which we find so frequently interspersed in Homer, Vir­gil, [Page 303] Milton, &c. before, in the Middle, or at the Close of some interesting Nar­ration, are entirely in the Nature of Mo­rals to a Fable.

I shall throw a little Illustration on these Points, particularly relative to pro­verbial Sentences and Phrases, and then release my dear Scholar.

We have a Proverb in Scotland, ‘Cocks are free of Horse-Corn;’ meaning to imply that People are liberal or profuse of what belongs to another.

Again, we have, ‘Use a Cat to the Churn, and she will call i [...] Custom;’ [Page 304] signifying, if you accustom your Servants, or other Folks, to make frequent Use of what is yours, they will think, at last, that they have acquired a Right to it.

How easily now may these be changed into a Comparison! for Instance, ‘As a Cat that has been allowed,’ &c.— ‘As a Cock, that sits in a Manger,’ &c. —or into a Fable, as, ‘A Widow had a favourite Cat, whom she indulged’ and so on. These simple Examples clearly shew how closely the Figures are allied.

A Fable or Story may be either true or false, it matters not which, so that a Moral accompanies it, and flows natu­rally from it.

[Page 305]Here follows a Quotation from Spen­ser, where a Fable, Comparison, and Moral, are finely wrought up together.

In the foregoing Part of this Letter, I observed that Aesop, though he makes his feigned Persons, that is, his Birds and Beasts, converse and reason, yet he always preserves Character. One Mi­nute's Patience more, while I illustrate this. His first Fable affords me the Means.

[Page 306] ‘A Dog, with a Piece of Meat in his Mouth, looking into a Pool of Water, imagines he there sees another Dog, with a Piece of Meat in his Mouth; he snatches at that, and thereby loses his own.’

This is all very natural to a Dog, and a plain Moral is to be deduced; namely; that we give up Certainty for Hope, when we greedily grasp at having too much.

The Reverse of this Rule of preserving Character is Dryden's Fable of the Hind and Panther. He has wholly departed from it. His Hind and Panther set forth at first in Kind, I allow; but in the Sequel, he makes them reason and [Page 307] dispute about Fathers and Councils, the Church, and the Pope, School-Divinity, Infallibility, and the Lord knows what. He then introduces a whole Flock of Birds, and characterizes them all as Men. The Buzzard was the famous Dr. Burnet, who was Bishop of Salisbury.

Dryden has been justly censured for this Inconsistency; for say the Critics, in Support of their Accusation, ‘Sup­pose a Colonel of Horse had thrown up his Regiment in foolish Hope of getting a higher Command, and was disappointed,’ Aesop's Fable might aptly be applied to him; but it would be absurd to say, ‘The Dog seeing another Dog in the Water, with a Piece of Meat in his Mouth, dropped [Page 308] the Piece in his own Mouth, and snatched at the other, and so lost his Regiment of Horse.’ This were to confound the Allusion with the Story alluded to, the Moral with the Fable.

I question whether I need trouble you with the Catachresis or no; however I will be brief.

Catachresis is the Abuse or over-strain­ing a Figure. One Species of it is, when, through the Want of proper, we use im­proper Terms; for Example, a Glass-Inkhorn, or a Silver Smoothing-Iron. Par­ricide is properly the Murderer of one's Father, but in Default of better Powers of Expression, we apply the Name to one who has murdered, either his Mo­ther, [Page 309] Brother or Sister. Longinus cen­sures some Writer for calling a Hillock a Wart. Quintilian has given many Instances of this, and even from Virgil; some of them very beautiful; but when the Image is beautiful, I think it can not with Propriety be called a Catachresis. Blackwell pronounces the following Pas­sage from Milton to be such;

This is when he describes the De­scent from Heaven of the Arch-Angel, Raphael. I am not of his Opinion; the Idea is supremely sublime, but not overstrained.

Statius, describing a general Silence and Quiet, says,

I forgot to mention the 29th Ode of Horace, in his 3d Book; it is finely imitated by Dryden; there he begins with Fortune as a Goddess, then allego­rizes her into a Bird, and lastly runs into another long Allegory of sailing in a Storm.

The next Time I write, I shall shew the Difference between Tropes and Fi­gures, and then, in Compassion to your wondrous Patience, quit the Subject.

Bless you, my dear Nancy!

LETTER CXXIII.

ONE Thing I advanced was, that in Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Milton, &c. the Moral is often placed in the Middle of the Story. Such Insertions are called Sentences, or short moral Reflections.

When Turnus kills Pallas, in the tenth Book of the Aeneid, and is exulting in the Victory he has obtained, the Poet, in the very Heart of his Story, breaks forth into this Reflection.

[Page 312]In the Beginning of the twelfth Book of the Iliad, Homer tells us in one Line, "The Grecian Wall was built without Sacrifices to the Gods;" in the next Line, he says, "Without the good Will of the Gods;" and immediately thereon adds,

The Meaning here is exactly the same with that In Psalm cxxvii. I.

Where, by the Way, you may remark the strong and figurative Turn of the Eastern Language; we should, probably, phrase it, "Without God's Assistance," but they more emphatically call it "God's own Doing."

There [Page 313]is a short, but noble, Reflection in the Story of Calisto in Ovid's Metamorphoses. Calisto, before she was dishonoured by Jupiter, was always at the Side of Diana, but, after that disgraceful Event, she de­clined the Freedom, and lagged behind her; whereon the Poet exclaims,

Having illustrated this Point, as far I think necessary, I am tempted, from the foregoing Quotation, to make a short Digression. A most excellent Lesson, my dear Nanoy, may fairly be deduced from the Story of Calisto; no doubt, the Author meant it.

[Page 314]Thus then it stands. An artful, prac­ticed, general Lover (such was Jove's Character) can assume any, and every Appearance to effect his Purpose; the more contradictory to what he really is, the better his Fraud is concealed. Jove assumes the Appearance even of Diana, by which the Poet means, that the Lover may wear the Mask of the most delicate Chastity, till he finds an Opportunity to throw it off, and resume the Jove. How this is to be guarded against, is also nicely insinuated by Ovid. He seems to say, ‘Never suffer yourself to listen to the specious Discourses of that Lover, who wishes to separate you from the Virgin Throng, in whose Company you are safe, or from your Protectress, the real Diana, and lead you to private [Page 315] Walks and secret Groves,’ as the Author phrases it. The poor Calisto, you see, meant no Ill, but she had thrown herself out of Protection. The more plausible and spe­cious a Lover appears, the more dan­gerous he really is. Every virtuous Wo­man shudders at a professed Libertine; but you remember the Moral to the Cha­peron rouge, my dear Nancy, which you translated at seven Years old,

and there is really but one Test to be made of this human Wolf; namely, will he suffer his Address to be made known to your tried and natural Friends, your Parents, or Guardians? If he declines this, and wishes it to be kept se­cret, [Page 316] then take Heed, ‘The Wolf, the Wolf's at Hand.’

I now proceed to give you, as far as I am able, the Difference between Tropes and Figures.

In the first Place, you are to know that both are occasionally called Figures; and Quintilian himself confesses, that the Distinction is very often hard to be ascer­tained; for some figurative Expressions may belong either to Synecdoche, which is a Trope, or Polyptote, Which is a Figure. The best Distinction then, that I can draw, is this; Trope is a Turn­ing of the proper Sense of the Word into a borrowed, or improper Sense. For Example, I swell with Rage, or Pride.

[Page 317]A Figure is an extraordinary Expres­sion; it consists in the Point, Arrange­ment, Repetition, or Disposition of Words in a Manner not common.

Trope comes from a Greek Word, which signifies a Turning or Changing, and is only applied where the Sense is turned. When the Turn is in the Words, we call it Figure; though the Word Trope would be as proper to imply Figure, but Custom has made it thus; and that is sufficient for our Purpose.

The Tropes are principally what we have been discoursing about, and are chiefly Metaphor, Metonymy, Synec­doche, Irony, Hyperbole, Allegory, Comparison, Sentences or short Morals, [Page 318] Fable or Parable, and Catachresis. These are most necessary to be studied.

LETTER CXXIV.

I Arrived here yesterday was a Week, the Day I proposed, in tolerable Health and Spirits.

I commend you prodigiously, my dear Nancy, for your Anxiety to serve your young Friend. I will assist you to the best of my Ability. I enclose two Let­ters, [Page 319] which I hope will be of Use, one to Mr. F—, the other to Mrs. K—th. I would have your Friend convey the first, but would request you to deliver the lat­ter yourself. Your speaking to the Point, will, I think, support my Recommenda­tion much, beside that I wish you to be better acquainted with Mrs. K—th. She is a kind-hearted Woman, but very resentful, if she conceives herself to be slighted. Such Extremes are quite in Nature. Our Anger or Indignation at the cooling Friendship of another, rises in Proportion to the Warmth of our own.

I am not very sorry for the Brevity of your Letter of the 21st, but for the Cause of it, and readily acquit you from [Page 320] fuller Writing, till your Mama is better. I will, in the mean Time, write often, not only with a Purpose to amuse, but to improve and serve you the best I can, with a sincere View to your Happiness both here and hereafter. Those who have an Eye only to the first, without considering and regarding the latter, will, as Tillotson says, find themselves miserably mistaken, and be, as he well terms them, but witty Fools at best.

I wish your Mama better.

LETTER CXXV.

I Have the Pleasure of yours of the 28th, and heartily congratulate you on your Mama being somewhat better. Do not remit your Attention to her, to oblige me. Till she is further advanced in her Recovery, I desire only a Line to tell me how you both go on, and whether your young Friend has been successful in her Application. The Want of a Situa­tion and Protection, at such an early Time of Life, naturally claims our Com­passion and Assistance; but I am still [Page 322] further concerned, and anxious for a happy Result in this Business, because I am so entirely pleased to see your Readi­ness to interest yourself in another's Wel­fare; and it would grieve me, were this first Effort of a kind Disposition damped or disappointed.

I have not had Time, since my Ar­rival, to apply to Authors; but if I had, I believe I should forbear to enter upon them minutely, till you are at Liberty to take Part in them.

I hope the young Lady you mention will not suffer that Inattention to her Mother to grow upon her. She should recall herself betimes, or Inattention will too soon become total Negligence, and [Page 323] Disobedience succeed to both. Let her then beware. I never, through Life, saw any Failure in Duty more certainly and constantly meet with a Punishment, than Undutifulness to Parents.

LETTER CXXVI.

I Received yours, and thank you for it. I do not expect or desire more than such a short Intelligence, while your Mama continues so ill. You are right not to neglect her in any Point; you owe her more than ever you can repay.

[Page 324]I have been reviewing some of your Letters to-day, and am thence induced to advance a Trifle on this Kind of Cor­respondence, and the Style necessary for it. Persevere, my dear, in that simple Manner of writing, which you seem to inherit from Nature. Epistolary Corre­spondence should be as easy as Conver­sation. Do not suffer an Intimacy with sublime Authors to tempt you out of this plain, humble Manner of expressing yourself. You are an Exception to a very general Rule. It is too much the Custom of young Folks, when once they have dipped into Books, to endeavour at high-flown Language in their Writing. Nothing is so absurd; allowing they ex­press themselves ever so properly, the Expressions are misplaced. They have [Page 325] no Business in a Letter, where every thing should be plain, easy, and concise.

Figure, above all Things, should be avoided in these familiar Discourses. I have known a Novice in Reading and Writing missed by a Simile, so as not to know the Point he first advanced, and another so envelope himself in a Meta­phor, as not to be able to find the Way out.

All Errors of this Kind you will be sure to avoid, if you persevere in your own Way. The more you adhere to Simplicity, the nearer you approach to Elegance.

P.S. I am going from this Place on Business, which I believe will detain me a Fortnight; so do not wonder if you do not hear from me in that Time; but what you write will be punctually con­veyed to me.

Encore, adieu!

LETTER CXXVII.

I Returned last Night. I had yours of the 12th, 16th, and 19th very safe, and am heartily glad your Mother is [Page 327] better. I make no Doubt but you dis­charged your Duty to her.

I here enclose a Letter for Mr. Mil­lan, whose Shop is near Old Man's Cof­fee-House, between Charing-Cross and White-Hall. It is an Order to deliver you Spenser, and any Author beside, that you may fancy, when you are there.

I expect to hear from you more fre­quently now, as you will have more Time. There are several Portions both of the Holy Scriptures, and the Apo­crypha, that I recommended long ago to your Perusal, and which you promised to read attentively. Have you done so? You do not mention them. They are of more intrinsic Value, towards your [Page 328] present Welfare and future Happiness, than all the other Books, I know, put together, and will be ever deemed so by Persons of solid Sense. I will men­tion one or two Passages, which I have reflected on a thousand Times; and it will be well for you to carry them much in your Mind, for they will never fail. God says,

The next Passage is in the first Book of Samuel, Chap. xvi. Verse 7.

LETTER CXXVIII.

Since my last, I have read the chief of Moliere's Plays; some of them are indeed but petites Pieces.

This Week I design to examine Le Medecin malgré lui, Amphitryon, Le Mi­santrope, and L'Avare. I propose to [Page 330] read the two last with great Care, as they are reputed two of his finest Plays. L'Ecole des Femmes is my great Favourite, and, for a petite Piece, Les precieuse Ri­dicules. I like the Femmes Sçavantes migh­tily.

Le Malade Imaginaire, was Moliere's last Play, and thought by some Critics to be the best he ever wrote. I think, at least, there is more Instruction and Diversion mingled together in this, than in many of his Pieces. The Misantrope, perhaps, is the most masterly, but it does not create so much Mirth as some others, and the Characters and Sentiments re­quire great Attention.

[Page 331]I will now set down the Plays which I have read, and which you are not ac­quainted with. George Dandin, Tartuffe, Monsieur Pourceaugnac, Le Bourgeois Gen­tilhomme, Les Fourberies de Scapin, Les Femmes Sçavanies, Le Malade Imaginaire. You will find the first, third, fourth, and fifth, very entertaining, fort enjouées, as the French say. The second, sixth, and seventh, are very instructing, and will likewise give you great Pleasure, espe­cially the two last.

Moliere's four great Plays, in my Opi­nion, are Le Misantrope, L'Avare, Le Malade Imaginaire, and L'Ecole des Femmes. I think the Character of Agnes, in L'Ecole des Femmes, and that of Alceste, in the Misantrope, the two finest he ever drew. [Page 332] The next in Degree is Arnolphe in L'Ecole des Femmes. The two Brothers, Ariste and Sganarelle, in L'Ecole des Maris, Madame Pernelle in Tartuffe, the two precieuses Ridicules, Sosie in Amphitryon, Harpagon and the Commissaire in L'Avare, are all finely drawn; not but there are many others well executed, but these strike me most, and must have cost him great Pains to paint, as their Excellence con­sists not only in their being truly just and natural, but they are withal nicely and highly finished.

Some of his Pieces are of the Opera-Kind, especially L'Isle D'Amour, and Princesse d'Elide, Psyche, and Melicerte, which last is a pastoral heroic Comedy.

[Page 333]These which you have read are the best, excepting only Le Malade Imaginaire. The Bourgeois Gentilhomme, and Monsieur de Pourceaugnac, will divert you much; George Dandin, Les Fourberies de Scapin, and La Contesse D'Escarbagnas, will like­wise give you some Pleasure. All which I have now gone through I did read for­merly, except the Contesse D'Escarbagnas. She is a silly, vain, affected Woman of Quality, who had been once in her Life at Paris, for about two Months, which runs mightily in her Head. She has some Resemblance of Lady Plyant, but, in my Opinion, is not so well drawn.

P. S. I write down such particular Phrases as I think worth remarking. I hope you do the same; it will much increase your Knowledge of the Lan­guage.

LETTER CXXIX.

I Have the Pleasure of yours of the 5th of this Month. Our Opinions of Mo­liere, I see, are pretty nearly alike, and I am not displeased to see it.

There is a Poem of Moliere in Com­mendation of Mignard's Painting in a [Page 335] Church at Paris. It is called La Gloire du Dome du Val de Grace, but this I have not yet read.

This Week I have gone through L'Etourdi, Don Juan, Le Depit amoureux, Les Amans Magnifiques, and L'Ombre de Moliere. L'Etourdi is the first Play he wrote. The chief Entertainment of this Piece consists in the Address and Contri­vance of the Servant being perpetually overturned by the Blunders of his Master. Though the latter promises again and again not to meddle in the Schemes of the former, yet his Vanity and Self-Suf­ficiency still prompt him to interfere anew, and ruin the whole. We see, in the Ser­vant, that a Pride to have his Plots suc­ceed induces him to be constant to his [Page 336] Master, rather than his Love and Fidelity; and, at the last, the Scheme succeeds more by good Luck, than any other Cir­cumstance. All this is very judiciously hit off by the Author; but to make the Servant talk to his Master in the most sarcastical Strain, and ever and anon call him Beast and Fool, is beyond all Bounds of Propriety and Decorum.

Don Juan is dreadfully destroyed by Thunder and Lightning, and the Earth swallows him, which Fate is, in a Man­ner, foretold to him by an Apparition. Nothing can end more tragically, yet Moliere calls it a Comedy. Juan's Cha­racter is horridly fine, and consistent throughout; bien soutenû, as the French express it. He is brave, fierce, exces­sively [Page 337] passionate, not devoid of Sense or Wit, but a most abandoned Wretch. The Moral of the Play is good, and there are some very diverting Scenes; particularly one with a Merchant, who comes to dun Juan for Money; whence Mr. Congreve, I surmise, took the Hint of the Scene, to the same Effect, between Valentine and Trapland.

The Sentiments and Dialogue of the Depit amoureux are good; the Character of Women given by Gros-renè to his Master, is very entertaining; and though there is no Excess of Wit or Humour in the Piece, yet it is the best-conducted Plot in all Moliere. The Manner whereby he winds all his Personages out of their Difficulties engages the Attention won­derfully, [Page 338] and conveys a Pleasure rather from the Result of the whole, than from Particulars. I would therefore, my Dear, have you read it with great At­tention.

There is no great Matter in the Amans Magnifiques, yet it is entertaining; but the Interlude after the second Act, a sort of little pastoral Drama, is, I think, one of the finest Things I ever saw, in that Way. It is simple, natural, and perfectly suited to the pastoral Character. The Song of Tircis, which is called the first Scene, and that of Caliste, which is the third, are tender and natural beyond Ex­pression, and the rest entirely accord with them.

[Page 339] Le Malade Imaginaire is admirably fine; but herein Moliere has been much blamed for attacking Physic as an Art. In his other Plays, say they, he attacks Quackery, and the Abuse of that Art; but here he attacks Physic itself, and re­presents the very Science as an Imposi­tion on Mankind. I am afraid there is something of this too true, in the Conversation between the Miser and his Brother.

L'Ombre du Moliere is a petite Piece. It was written by one Brecourt, who was an Actor under Moliere. The Plan is this—The Ghosts of many of those Per­sonages, whom Moliere had turned into Ridicule, come to Pluto, in the other World, to complain of him. The whole [Page 340] is pretty well executed, in particular the Character of the Doctor; but I cannot, by any Means, perceive a Reason for introducing the Ghost of Nicolle in the Bourgeois Gentilhomme.

LETTER CXXX.

I Have now read Moliere's Plaisirs de L'Isle Enchantée, with the Princesse d'Elide, which is a Part of it. It costs a World of Pains to read it through, and it is of that Species, which gives more [Page 341] Pleasure by being considered all together, than in its particular Parts. There is something remarkably fine and natural in the Character and Behaviour of the Prince d'Hague, and the Princesse d'Elide, and proves the Author well understood Hu­mankind. But I shall not enter into it minutely, that I may not forestall your Pleasure. It will cost you some Pains in reading, but is worth them all, only to consider those two Characters tho­roughly. They are not only perfectly well drawn, but withal very instructive. I think the Character of Moron rather unnatural. It is both in Verse and Prose, and there is something in each, not to be found in the other, which de­serves well to be read; it will therefore cost you a double Application. If you [Page 342] will mark down Phrases and Words, which are new to you, you will find the Advantage of it. When you have ex­amined these very carefully, we will dis­course on the particular Beauties.

Since I left Moliere, I have applied myself again to Horace. I have gone through all his Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry, the two first Books of his Odes, and half of the third. It is much to be lamented, that this inimitable Author is not well translated. I do not know where there are more excellent Instructions for the Conduct of human Life. At present, I shall only recommend to your Perusal the second and eighteenth Epistles in the first Book, and the tenth Satire, in the second Book. Howbeit in any Trans­lation, [Page 343] they must fall infinitely short of the poetical Beauty of the Original, yet the good Sense contained in them will shine through any Disguise.

LETTER CXXXI.

YOU desire my Opinion of Moliere. One general Complaint is, that he mixes too much Farce with his Plays. I own, I think so too. Boileau has no­ticed Geronte in the Sack in the Four­beries of Scapin. The Bourgeois Gentil­homme ends in a mere Farce and a most extravagant one too. The Dispute be­tween [Page 344] the two Servants about letting in their Master, is quite a Farce; so is Toinette's acting the Part of the Doctor in the Malade Imaginaire; nor can I per­ceive why it is introduced. There are many more Instances of this Kind in his Plays. Those who defend him say he was compelled to this by the Humour of the Time; that he had to please the Town, as well as the Sçavants, the Peo­ple of Taste and the Court; and that the Success of his Pieces depended on the first Set of Hearers, as well as the others. In Truth, I think this no bad Defence, and, it must be allowed, that these Scenes would, in a Farce, be very en­tertaining.

[Page 345]Some say his Language is not perfectly pure. I will not pretend to decide in that, but the different Characters he brings in ought to be considered; for Example, in the Bourgeois Gentilhomme, when he introduces a Gasconne, and a Pi­carde, should he not make them speak the Patois of their respective Countries? Moreover as many of his Plays are not only in Verse, but in Rhyme, this might be a Constraint, and oblige him often to use uncouth and obsolete Words.

The greatest Objection to Moliere is still behind; and that is, that there is sometimes a sort of Deficiency, in the Denouement of his Plot. This Objection was made by the great Monsieur Le Clerc; [Page 346] and I think this is not only true respect­ing the unravelling of the Story, but, in several of his Plays, I think his Plot is not conducted with all the Address in the World, and that it is even too loosely put together. Congreve's Plots are admirably conducted, and if they have any Fault, it is, that they are so closely woven, that, unless we consider them very narrowly, the Contexture will escape us; but then they add great Beauty and Grace to the Piece, when unfolded and brought in View. This is par­ticularly evinced in his Way of the World, where every thing is judiciously linked to­gether, and each Incident arises naturally out of the other. In my next, I shall send my Thoughts on Moliere's Beauties, which greatly exceed his Faults.

[Page 347]My humble Service to your Mama and Aunt, et restez bien assurée que je suis fort de vos Amis.

LETTER CXXXII.

I AM favoured with yours of the 18th instant, and shall answer the latter Part of it first.

Those People, whose Description you have noted, are the antient Belgians, and their Neighbourhood, which contains [Page 348] Holland, Flanders, and the rest of the Low Countries, the Archbishoprick of Triers, Liege, Juliers, Cleve, and Berg. You will understand such Descriptions better, if you will apply to a Map of Europe. Beside that it is useful to point out the Situation of Places, it will make your reading more pleasant. By these Means you will see how our Armies abroad lie, what Way they march, what Towns are besieged and taken. When we hear News, or read History, and have no Knowledge of the Situation of Towns, Countries, Rivers, Seas, &c. we receive little Pleasure, and less Instruction, from what we hear and read.

It is reported that Elephants never lie down to sleep, on Account of the Stiffness [Page 349] of their Joints, which makes them un­able to rise; therefore, when they are inclined to sleep, they lean against a Tree. The Indians, in order to catch them, saw the Tree half asunder, or more, which giving Way, the Beast falls. This, perhaps, is fabulous, for they have much better Methods to catch them; but the Story may serve well enough to build a Simile upon.

I think the Simile of Night exceeding fine, but defective; you should consider, it is not Night only, but Silence also that he is describing. Virgil takes in the Winds and Waves, the silent March of the Stars;

This is Part of the Description only, and infinitely short of the Original; it is in the fourth Book of the Aeneid. The last of these Lines contains, in the Ori­ginal, but four Words, and literally translated, signifies, "When every Field held its Tongue." What Dryden calls ‘To haunt the Woods, or swim the weedy Pool,’ is in Virgil, ‘which inhabit the Coun­try, that is rough with Shrubs and Bushes, and the wide-extended liquid Lakes.’

[Page 351] Virgil gives us none but beautiful Ideas. Why does Tasso present us with the Serpent's Hiss, and Dragon's Cry? I own they are natural, but they are also frightful, and, as Shakespeare says, they make Night hideous.

Virgil makes every thing to be at Rest, but Dido. It was for her Sake the Description was brought in; and the Excess of her Passion and Distress is vastly heightened by the beautiful Pic­ture of every thing being at Rest, ex­cept herself.

Tasso makes all at Rest, but the Music of the Spheres. This is injudicious. What has the Music of the Spheres to do here? It is an old, idle Fancy; be­sides, [Page 352] as Hudibras says, We hear it not; why then was it excepted? or how can a Noise, which is not heard, lull the World to Rest? I give you this as a Specimen of the superior Judgment of Virgil, and the Beauty that arises therefrom; notwithstanding I allow, that Tasso's Description, with these Abate­ments, has its Merit. If you would read Bossu carefully, especially his Con­trast of Virgil and Statius, you would see how natural and judicious the former is, and how much the latter falls short of him.

LETTER CXXXIII.

YOU ask my Advice in many Points, wherein I think you are able per­fectly to direct yourself. Your Conduct, in general, is very satisfactory to me, and I believe, to your Mama; however, to the best of my Ability, I will comply with your Request, and it will be no Burthen to have two or three spare Rules by you.

In one Part of your Letter, you desire a Plan to live by. I never could live [Page 354] by a Plan myself, consequently am unfit to lay down one to you; and I love my own Liberty too well, to abridge that of other People.

I believe one very general Error in young Folks is a too great Readiness to make Acquaintance. This ought to be most warily guarded against. Much of our Happiness, Reputation, end Welfare, depends upon the Choice of Intimates.

A proper Division of Time is another very material Point. I am as much a Friend to innocent Recreations, as to Bu­siness. The only Nicety is to steer be­tween too close an Application to the latter, and an Excess in the former. Your little Neighbour, Miss D—, will [Page 355] live to repent her ill Custom of sitting up late at Night, and loitering a-bed in the Morning. Few Things are more pre­judicial to Business, Reputation and Health. A thousand Inconveniencies are entailed, which are not dreamed of at first. She might break herself of it easily now, and may find it very hard some Years hence. I once loved it as well as she does, yet I got over it, and now rise every Day between six and seven.

A proper Division of Time preserves us from being hurried at one Time, and made languid and weary at another; it gives a Gout to Diversion, and makes Bu­siness sit light and easy.

[Page 356]A proper Choice of Companions, at your early Time of Life chiefly, is of the utmost Consequence. There is great Truth in the old Proverb, ‘A Man is esteemed according to the Company he keeps;’ for such as our Company is, such, in great Measure, shall we our­selves be. We fall insensibly, and al­most unavoidably, into the Manners, Air, Sentiments, and Turn of those Persons, with whom we converse much, especially in our early Years, so that young People cannot be too much on their Guard in this Particular. Our Reputation is also affected by the Company we keep. Is there any thing oftner heard than this, and when nothing else perhaps can be alledged, ‘Ay, such a young Man, or such a Girl, is very good, but too [Page 357] much in such or such-a-one's Com­pany?’ Our Associates therefore should be as good and as wise as may be found, at least, in our own Opi­nion, and the higher Credit and Re­putation they are in, the better still for us.

I am far from dictating or prescribing rigidly. I would not have a Person tied down to a formal Method, to move like a Puppet upon Wires. I am very sensible that Diversion and Com­pany are almost as necessary as Meat, Drink, or Sleep; but I dare say you will agree with me that there are cer­tain Measures, Proportions, and Distri­butions, in all Sorts of Recreation, as [Page 358] well as Business, which we ought seldom to exceed.

LETTER CXXXIV.

AS I begin to have but few Franks, I must put two or three Letters into one.

I am ready to answer your Questions about dividing your Time aright, and [Page 359] to give you the best Directions I can on that Point. It is of the greatest Moment to Happiness. Your desiring Information on this Head pleases me much, though, as I said before, I think you do not stand in need of it; however, I will express myself as if you did, that I may give my Meaning more clear, and to the Purpose.

I cannot enter minutely into Particu­lars; those must occur to yourself, as Circumstances, Times, and Occasions fall out; I shall only observe some general Things, and explain and illustrate them to you in the best Manner I can.

First then, in order to employ Time well, to lay it out to Purpose, and in [Page 360] due Proportions, it must be supposed that you have Time in your Possession. The Question then is, how to purchase a sufficient Quantum, or Measure of Time. This is not so hard for you, now, at least, as for many People, whose Time belongs to others, not to them­selves; who perhaps are Masters or Mis­tresses of Families, who have Ware-Houses, or Shops to look after, or some other Charge, that requires great Por­tions of their Time. Be that as it may, a certain Stock of Time is necessary for Business, for Improvement, and for all the necessary Functions of Life; Eating, Drinking, Sleeping, and even Recreation and Diversion; for these are necessary too; but always in Order to qualify us [Page 361] for some better and more important Purposes; and are to be used as Means to attain some End we aim at, and not as the Things themselves.

How then are we to purchase this Stock of Time? Without this by us, our Time, however judiciously distri­buted, will not answer. For Example, if I have but a Crown to go to Market with, and must necessarily have Things to the Value of a Guinea, let me lay out my Money ever so prudently, it will not serve my Purpose. Herein is evinced the vast Necessity of purchasing as great a Fund of Time, as we can.

To this Purpose I know no one parti­cular Thing so conducive, as rising early.

[Page 362]We then have the whole Day before us, can dress in Time, breakfast in Time, go abroad or stay at Home, as Affairs demand; if the former, we are sure of meeting People at the ordinary Hours of Meals, Business, or Diversion; beside, the Mind is more fresh, active, and strong to apply to Study, or any other Employment that requires us.

‘An Hour in the Morning is worth three in the Afternoon,’ is a common Proverb, and I never knew a truer. The Light, Heat, and Air of the Day is much more healthy and chearful than the cold dark Damps, and Inconveniency of the Night. The brute Creation teaches us this. The dumb Creatures retire early to Rest, and get up betimes, to busy [Page 363] themselves in Quest of Food, or in bring­ing forth, or bringing up their Young, or in providing for the Winter. Nature instructs them that the Light and Warmth of the Sun makes that the Time of Busi­ness; but if we will sit up in the Dead, and Damps, and Darkness of the Night, exposed to the Vapours of that unwhole­some Season, we must lie late, and there­by lose a great Part of the proper Time for Business or Study; we must breakfast when others dine, dine when others sup, and sup when they sleep; so that our Time is, as I may say, quite disjointed, and can never hit or square with the Times of Business, Meals, or Visits of other People. By these Irregularities, every Thing goes to Disorder and Confu­sion; and beside the Loss of so much [Page 364] Time, (and that the proper Time) the Indolence and Inactivity, that late-sitting-up and late lying-a-bed creates, renders us quite unfit and unapt for making Use of the Residue of Time left for Action.

Dr. Swift has painted this so just and strong in one of the Poems, which I co­pied out for you, that I need not expa­tiate further on it.

Would not a Merchant be laughed at for a Fool or Madman, who should loiter away his Time till the Exchange were shut, a Minister till the Time of Divine Service were past, a Lawyer till the Courts were up, or a Physician till the Patient were past Recovery, or dead? It is just as ridiculous and foolish in us, to mis-time, [Page 365] time the common Affairs, and Busi­ness of Life. Solomon, I think, says, ‘The slothful Man ploweth in Har­vest;’ meaning that he mis-times his Affairs, and neglects to sow his Grain, till others are going to reap theirs.

Another Means of purchasing Time, is, when we foresee a Crowd of Things coming on us together, and that we shall be hurried, to steal some Time before hand, if we can, to do some Part of it, or block it, as we say, and prepare it so that it may become more easy and light.

I have a great Number of Affairs to do to-morrow; I foresaw them yester­day. I therefore chose to let Mr. L— make a Visit then. I seized the Time, [Page 366] I had yesterday Afternoon to myself. I have wrote several Letters, which are not to go till to-morrow; have put my Papers in Order, and made a Beginning, in having dispatched all preparatory Work. I only mention this, to illustrate to you what I mean.

I shall give you the Respite of a Day or two, before I pursue this Matter. What I have to say further will be easily discussed.

LETTER CXXXV.

I Am very well pleased with your judi­cious Remarks on Tasso. I knew you did not prefer Tasso's Description of Night to that of Virgil, though I thought pro­per to observe the Difference of the Choice of Circumstances therein in those two Poets.

I wrote to you in my last about the Purchasing of Time, and shall here add the following Observation; leaving what I have to say farther on the Distribution of Time to another Occasion. A parti­cular [Page 368] Piece of Business will prevent me for a While.

What signifies getting Time enough, without being able to use it? If we are lazy, indolent, or indisposed, it will be much the same as if we had it not. It will be like earning a good Meal, with­out a Stomach to digest it, or an Appe­tite to eat it; so that if we have ever so much Time, and have not Application, or if we are what the French call dissipé, it can be of very little Advantage to us.

In order then to fit us for the right Employment of Time, our Mind ought to be cool and serene, our Thoughts clear, our Spirits in Vigour, but undis­turbed, and not in a Flurry. The Means [Page 369] to attain this Disposition is to endeavour to be in good Health of Body. There is a strange Sympathy and Connection be­tween the Body and Mind; the one is seldom well, when the other is out of Order. I am not going to prescribe to you as a Doctor; not being skilled in that Profession; but certainly Regula­rity and Moderation, in Eating, Drink­ing, Sleep, Exercises, Study, Business, and Diversions, are the best Means of preserving Health, and consequently of attaining an Easiness and Calm of Mind, joined with Clearness and Strength of Thought.

But there are some other Things, that incapacitate us for Study or Business, which arise from the Mind itself. All [Page 370] immoderate Passions, such as Grief, An­ger, too earnest Desires, an inordinate Pursuit of Pleasure, or Trifles, and set­ting a too high Value on them, all these dissipate our Minds, unnerve and weaken them; and at last sink them, leaving no­thing but the Dregs of Thought behind.

Another Consideration should make us still more careful to avoid whatever impairs or destroys our Health of Body, or the Faculties of our Mind. The Body and Mind do not only act upon, and affect one another mutually, but they re-act again and again upon each other; like a Ball tossed to and fro, forward and backward, in a Tennis-Court; Grief, Rage, Envy, or any other violent Pas­sions, do not only disturb and distract [Page 371] the Mind, but they affect the Health; when the Health is affected, these Pas­sions become more violent, and less supportable; these Passions, when be­come more violent, give a new Wound to the Health, which adds fresh Force, or, at least, more Malignity, to the Passions, and so on reciprocally; and if God, out of his infinite Goodness, had not given us such Constitutions, as some­times to get the better of all this, we do not know how, this Action and Re-action would certainly destroy us; indeed, it very often does.

I shall refer the Remainder to my next, and am,

LETTER CXXXVI.

I Have written you my Thoughts, in the best Manner I can, about pur­chasing Time, and how that Time may not be useless, by our being in an unfit Disposition to use it. The Question now is, how that Time ought to be distribut­ed, laid out, or bestowed.

There are two or three general Rules I would have you observe.

First, reckon with yourself, how much Time such or such a Thing may take, [Page 373] then how much such another Thing, and so on, and divide and distribute your Time accordingly.

But then in the next, or rather in the first Place, you ought to make a sort of Calculation or Reckoning of how many Things you have to do; as for Exam­ple, to-day, or to-morrow, and forecast in your Mind, in what Order you will do them.

Then consider what Time is most pro­per for the one, and what for the other; what in the Morning, what in the After­noon, &c.

By all Means, consider what is most necessary, what is most valuable, what [Page 374] deserves most Time. Common Sense, and the universal Consent of the World, allow that these are to be most minded; so that if you have Time, the greatest Portion of that, as well as of Care, Pains, Application, and Study, are to be laid out on Things that deserve it best, or that we are most interested in, or what must be necessarily done; and if, in Spite of all our Endeavours, we have not Time enough, and are hurried, we ought al­ways to prefer what is most necessary and most valuable.

Some People, when hurried either unavoidably, or through their own Fault, will leave nothing undone, but do a little of every thing, and so slubber their Af­fairs, that nothing is done to the Pur­pose; [Page 375] whereas it would have been much better in that Hurry, to have left the less necessary Things absolutely untouched, till another Occasion.

The Purchase of Time will put us out of the Necessity of being hurried; being in good Health and Spirits will double Time, and keep us from being languid; forecasting the Particulars will keep us from an Uncertainty and Irreso­lution of what we are to do.

The due Distribution of Time, and chusing the most proper Seasons, is neces­sary to doing Things well and effec­tually.

[Page 376]The Preference of Things, or Studies, that are most necessary, valuable, or profitable, will always make our Bu­siness and Study most advantageous to us.

To this I shall add, that in Things indifferent, we ought to consult our Bent and Humour; if it is not inclined to what is trifling, or worse, to what our Genius is fittest for. We shall assuredly learn much more, and more to the Pur­pose, when we apply to what we have a Turn for, than to what is against the Grain.

I only hint these Points to you, with­out expatiating on them, which indeed I have not Time for at present, nor do [Page 377] I think it needful. Your own good Sense will see into the Truth of them, and reflect and enlarge upon them.

I own, such is human Frailty, that we cannot, at all Times, come up to the strict Observance of them, even with all our Endeavours; but we should surely strive to do it, in the Main, and as forcibly as we are able.

I own too, that Sickness, Indisposi­tion, unforeseen Accidents, Visits, Avo­cations, and Interruptions of many Sorts, and even Business itself, will break in on these Rules; but they ought not surely to be wholly neglected, because they cannot be precisely kept.

[Page 378]These Rules are general, and will al­ways hold true, at least, in my humble Opinion; and if they always hold true, we should always endeavour to keep to them, with those Allowances above. I do not think I need trouble you with any more of this Kind, nor in­deed do I immediately recollect any; but there are some particular Things, which, in a long Course of Time, I have observed; these are a sort of Knacks, if I may call them so, of studying, or doing Business in an useful Way. Every Man, I suppose, has some of those peculiar to himself, and there may be many which I never heard of; but such as have been observed by me I shall make the Subject of my next Letter; and I am confident, from Experience, [Page 379] that they cannot fail of being very ser­viceable to any Person, who pleases to practise them.

LETTER CXXXVII.

I Received yours of the 4th of this Month, with which I am very well pleased.

[Page 380]I would fain give you a true Idea of the Importance of the few Rules or Directions which I offered you in my late Letters.

Consider then that our Time is li­mited; we have but a certain Portion of Time to live, and even That of the longest Liver is but very short. How great a Part of it is taken up in Eating, Drinking, Sleeping, Dressing, Company, Avocations, Interruptions, and many other Functions of Life, that are ne­cessary and indispensable, or, at least, unavoidable! Add to these, Indisposi­tion, Sickness, the Decays of old Age, and the Cares of Life, which grow upon us daily.

[Page 381]But if we were to live ever so long, pray consider that our Understandings and Memories are limited, and are very short and imperfect; even those Persons, whose Memories are strongest and most tena­cious, can retain but very few Things, in Comparison with what they see, hear, read, and observe. Many Things slide out of our Memories, some sooner, others later, and many make no Impres­sion at all.

In like Manner, our Understandings are limited; some can comprehend more, others less; but the highest Pitch, that human Understanding can fly to, is but very low. There are moreover Thou­sands of Things, that, if we should rack our Understandings ever so much, we [Page 382] can never attain to the Knowledge and Comprehension of; they lye without the Sphere and Province of our Con­ception, or, as Mr. Locke expresses it, beyond the Length of our Tether.

Philosophers say, there are certain Cells in the Brain, some of which are the Seats of our Reason or Understand­ings, and others of our Memory. Some are more capacious than others; others not so capacious, but hold, what they receive better; however there is but a limited Number, and, when full, they can hold no more; or, at least, new Ideas, when they take Place, justle out the old ones.

[Page 383]If Time were to endure for ever, or very long, we need not be so solicitous of husbanding it well; or, short as it is, if our Understandings and Memories were infinite, or, at least, of a vast Compass, we could do a great deal in a small Space. But as the wise Author of our Being has disposed Things otherwise, ought we not to obey the Limitation he has prescribed us?

To divide and distribute our Time aright, should we not endeavour to be in a Disposition of Mind and Body, to be able to take Time, when Time is, and to chuse fit and proper Periods for acting, and when we are disposed and capable to use Time?

[Page 384]Ought we not to prefer what is pro­per, useful, worthy and necessary, to that which is less so? much more to Trifles, (unless for Diversion or Recreation) and, most of all, to what is bad, hurtful, or vicious?

If you, or I, or any one else, waste Time in reading useless Books, or in some impertinent Thing or frivolous Employ, the idle Ideas we lay up jus­tle, or keep out, as many good and wholesome ones; if they slide away, and leave Room for better, which is the best that can befall us in such a Case, we have, at least, lost so much Time; but if they fix on our Memory and Un­derstanding, then indeed our State is doubly miserable. I still except neces­sary [Page 385] Recreations, and the particular Trades or Business, wherein we are brought up, and by which we must get a Lively­hood; many whereof are in themselves trifling enough, but then they are ne­cessary, as being the Means of Sub­sistence.

Now if the proper Times and parti­cular Seasons of Application, and when we are fit and capable to apply, are to be watched and taken, how much more is the Time of Life, in general, which is fittest for us, and to which we are best suited, to be well and diligently ap­plied? I mean, the Time of our Youth, when the Journey of Life is before us, when we have most Leisure, before we are engaged in the Cares and Concerns [Page 386] of the World we are to struggle through; when our Minds are most pliable, and when we receive the deepest and most lasting Impressions; when we have a certain Facility both of taking up Things, and retaining them—On all Accounts, therefore, Youth is the most proper Sea­son to lay in a Fund for carrying us through the World with Comfort, and Joy, and Innocence, and Credit. How many Wretches do we see of both Sexes, who, for Want of this Precaution and Provision, lead miserable and disgraceful Lives, and come to an untimely and shameful End!

There is one Thing in regard to the Narrowness of our Understanding, which give me Leave to mention to you.

[Page 387]Some Things are hard, and require much Attention to be comprehended aright. If these Things are necessary, or worth our While, the Difficulty ought not to frighten us; but if they are other­wise, we should not break our Heads about them. Some have a Genius for one Thing, some for another; and it is wonderful to observe how ready and able some People are to learn some Things, and how hard it is to make them comprehend others, which one would think much easier.

Pope has treated this with great Jus­tice, somewhere in his Works; I think it is in the fourth Book of his Dunciad. He laughs at the Practice of our Schools and Colleges, where they set every Boy [Page 388] to the making of Verses, without con­sidering whether he has Talents for it or no.

I have been often told that the Jesuits abroad take a quite different Method with their Pupils. They carefully study the Temper and Turn of Mind, and when they have discovered that, they then set them to that which their Genius is most suited to.

But some Things lie quite out of the Reach of our Understanding. All the natural Philosophers, that have been or are now in the World, have not hitherto been able to account for Thousands of Things, that present themselves to us every Day; why, for Example, the Grass [Page 389] is green, the Rose red, the Lily white, the Cowslip yellow, the Violet blue, the Tulip variegated or party-coloured; why a certain Sort of Tree always bears an Apple, another a Pear, a third a Plumb, and so forth, with Millions of other Things. We have but few Faculties, and fewer Senses, which are the Inlets of all Knowledge. All the Descriptions and Definitions that can be made, will never give a Man, who was born blind, the least Idea or Notion of a Colour, or one born deaf, any Notion of Sound. Things being thus, how idle is it in People to puzzle themselves with Ob­jects that lie without the Sphere of their Knowledge or Comprehension! And if it be so in these lesser Matters, how rash is it, with regard to the high and tre­mendous [Page 390] Mysteries of our Religion, in presuming Men to endeavour to explain them to others, who cannot comprehend them themselves!

Dr. Sherlock, Father to the present Bishop of Salisbury, did more Hurt to Re­ligion, (at least in my Opinion) though undesignedly, by endeavouring to explain the Trinity, than if he had wrote a Trea­tise against it.

Others presumptuously and prophanely contemn and deride, desperately reject and renounce our Holy Religion, and the sacred Treasures of the Scripture, because, forsooth, they cannot compre­hend every thing taught there; as if [Page 391] nothing could be true, but what they could account for; although they see ten thousand Things every Day, that are obvious to their Senses, and yet not one of them can be accounted for by the Wit of all Mankind put to­gether.

Such Scoffers as these would per­haps term what I am saying Cant; they have many low Arts and Expressions, to support each other in such vain Tenets, as are not to be justified by Reason. God forbid they should ever affect the sober and meek! Better is it for us to be submissive, teachable, and humble-minded, than to sail along with a Tide of Fools, whose greatest [Page 392] Comfort must be, the Hope of being Nothing at last.

LETTER CXXXVIII.

I Resume my Discourse on the Employ­ment of Time.

Besides the few general Rules, which every Body should observe as much as [Page 393] their Health and Disposition of Mind and Business will allow them, there are some particular Things, which, if observed, will, in my Opinion, tend much to our bestowing Time to Purpose.

But there is one of these general Rules, which I must again recommend, as a certain Knack or Nostrum to make Time pass easily and profitably, and that is what I called forecasting what we have to do, or what we design to read or study; for Instance, in the Evening what we are to do next Day, or in the Morning, what we are to do all Day, or for two or three Days to come.

There are many excellent Effects fol­low on this Method;

[Page 394]First, we find hereby when we shall have a void Space of Time; we can therefore fill it up with some­thing that would oppress us afterwards; or we can beforehand, if we have no Business that will hurry us after, contrive something to do or read, or some Di­version that would encroach too much on Business at another Time, or contrive our Visits so as not to encroach on Bu­siness at all.

It would also give us a View of all we had to do, at once, so that we should not only proportion our Time aright, but even chuse the fittest Time for every Branch of our Business and Diversion.

[Page 395]We should moreover not be at a Loss or Doubt, what to do first, or whether to do such a Thing or not. I have often felt, that, when I was surprised with an idle Space of Time, for Want of having forcasted what I was to do, I continued in Doubt and Irresolution, and in a saun­tering Disposition, and as much to seek, as when I happened to be surprised with a Hurry of Business, not knowing where or how to begin. This is the Reason that so many People are longer in be­ginning and falling to Action, than others are in compleating it. Many People have I seen come to a Friend's House, in order to spend an Afternoon, but presently, perhaps, they remembered they had something to do, then away they would go; then, perhaps, change [Page 396] their Minds and come back again, I have seen People go in and out of a Cof­fee-House, three or four Times in half an Hour; or go, perhaps, along half a Street, then turn short, and go another Way, or turn back. All this comes from not forecasting what they have to do, and not having resolved to do what they have suddenly taken into their Heads.

No Doubt, you have seen all this as well as I, and I do not say that I have not been guilty of it as well as others.

I have been in Company where I have seen People that were for the Park; then for Vaux-Hall, and not the Park; then for neither, but for the Play-House; then [Page 397] not for that, but for the Tavern; yet, at last, went to none of them. My God! how uneasy are these People to them­selves, and often to others! All proceeds, I say, from not forecasting Things be­forehand, and Want of Resolution to exe­cute what they intend. In short, the good Effects of Forecast are so visible, and the bad Effects of the Want of it so obvious, that I need not longer dwell upon it.

I must refer the rest to my next.

LETTER CXXXIX.

SINCE I wrote you last, I have been much in the Country, and besides there has been such a Hurry in this Town, with Horse-Races, Balls, Con­certs, and a World of Company, that I had not Time to write as I de­signed.

I have three Letters of yours unan­swered, all on the same Subject ^*, and am very well pleased with them.

[Page 399]What they call the Fortunate Islands is certainly fabulous, as the Gardens of Alcinous, the Grotto of Circe and Calypso, and the Hesperian Gardens. Whether any of the Antients found the Way to the Azores Islands, or our Bermudas Islands, which, it is said, bid fair to an­swer the poetical Descriptions, is more than we know, or whether they took their Hints from some dark Account of Paradise. Homer wrote (his Odyssey) near three thousand Years ago, Tasso, I believe, not above three Hundred. I cannot conceive why he differs from Ho­mer, in his Account of Ulysses. Lisbon is reported to have been named so by Ulysses; if he really did name it, he must have failed without Hercules's Pillars, [Page 400] which were at the Straits of Gibraltar, as may be seen by the Map.

To-morrow, or next Day, I shall have more Leisure to write, and then you may count to hear from me.

LETTER CXL.

TO resume my Discourse on Time— The last Rule, I think, that I wished to be observed, to stop weari­some [Page 401] Gaps in Time, was either to pre­pare something that we know is before our Hand, or resume something that we had not Time to finish. This is an ex­cellent Method of keeping ourselves from Indolence and Idleness, and forwarding our Business, Study, or Knowledge; and nothing so much contributes to make this easy and practicable, as fore-laying every thing we have to do. When we look before us, we shall see what Time we are like to be disengaged, and then we can provide for the right Use of that Time.

Another Point I would recommend, is as follows. When we have not any thing to prepare beforehand, nor any thing to do that was obliged to be left [Page 402] undone, suppose we were to think of some By-Study, or useful Matter to em­ploy ourselves in, that should touch us but on such Occasions.

For Example, Nancy, what if you, in such a Case, should get the Use of some News-Papers, particularly the Ge­neral or London Evening Post, read them over, and even the Advertisements? You would there find many Things, of which you have, as yet, perhaps, no Idea. As all Europe is now in Motion, you would hereby have a Conception of what is doing, and what you cannot miss to hear talked of; and if you would lay out a Trifle on a Map of Europe in general, and of the particular Countries likewise, and consult your Maps for every Thing [Page 403] you read about, it would be a very fine, and no unprofitable, Amusement; for by this Means, and, as it were, by Way of Diversion, you would come to un­derstand Geography, and comprehend what is now so much in the Mouths of all the World. This would give you the Pleasure of understanding what you hear and read, of forming, with some Exactness, an Idea of the Countries and Actions you read of, which none can do, who know not the Situations of Places, where the Scene of Action lies. Such Persons as know not, for Exam­ple, where France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Hungary, Prussia, &c. are, whether they lie East, West, North, or South, or how they lie in respect to each other, or whe­ther they are near or far off, what Plea­sure [Page 404] can they have in Prince Charles's passing and re-passing the Rhine, or what Notion can they have of his Marches, and the Marches of his Enemies? Why really, scarce any.

I would not, however, have you be either a great Geographer, or News-Monger; but this would not only be pleasant Amusement in idle Hours, but would enable you to have right Notions and Ideas of Things that are often talked of. Now this, or some such Employ, I would have you set apart only for the Hours you find yourself languid in; but, by no means, let it encroach on the Times of Business, and when you are more necessarily, and more impor­tantly engaged.

[Page 405]There is another Thing, in which Time that lies heavy on our Hands might be still more usefully employed, and that is, in doing some Handy-Work. I have many Times regretted that I ne­ver learned to do, or make, some useful Thing or other, to fill up these tedious Intervals. I have known Gentlemen learn to Draw, or Play on some Instru­ment, or Work at some useful Art, especially Turning, which is easily learn­ed; and I have seen a Lady lately sit five or six Hours at making Nets, Flow­ering or Embroidering. Such Employ­ments as these often turn out advantage­ous Concerns to those who are not ca­pable of high Pursuits, and are happy Relaxations to those who are.

LETTER CXLI.

I Wrote you three Days ago; what I have more to say will not take up much Time, but I shall spin it out to two Letters.

One Thing earnestly to be recom­mended, as the Means of making either Study or Business useful and effectual, is to improve the Times and Circum­stances, that favour them. There are certain Seasons and Occasions, by, and [Page 407] in, which we can profit more than others. I do not only mean what I wrote formerly about the proper Times of the Day for this or that, and the Times when we find ourselves in the best Disposition, or when the best Op­portunities offer, (tho' these are to be greatly noticed) yet I now mean some­thing more.

There are Accidents or Circumstances, that contribute much to make deep Impressions on the Mind and Memory. For Example, when we hear any Thing that is new to us; this excites the Cu­riosity, and is a proper Time to inform ourselves about it. When a Thing is strange or surprising, or when it comes newly in Vogue, or when we hear [Page 408] many People talk about a Book, or other Matter, or commend, or discom­mend it, or when we hear different Characters of some Circumstance or Au­thor, or when People contest and dis­pute about any Thing, then the Mind is excited; and such Opportunities of Improvement are never to be neglected, unless the Subject is of no Concern; but even in that Case, People will remem­ber, or be curious to know Things in such Circumstances.

Not only Things that are new, un­common, or extraordinary, make deep Impressions, but what we learn, hear, read, or do, at such Times, make deep Impressions too. There is a certain Con­nection of Ideas that I cannot account [Page 409] for, by which they are drawn along, as by a Chain of different Links. You have heard People say, ‘I remember such a Circumstance very well, be­cause such a Thing happened at that Time, or I was in such a Place.’ If we change our usual Place of Resi­dence, or our customary Way of Life, we shall, for some little While, remem­ber better what happened, or what we read, heard, or saw, in that Interval, than what occurs ordinarily; and I have often observed, when I have come to a Place or Company, from which I had been some Time absent, my former Thoughts have then come back into my Mind, tho' perhaps I had never once reflected on them, from the Time [Page 410] I had been before in that Place or Com­pany.

It is for this Reason, that those who teach the Art of Memory, lay down this Rule; namely, that when we have many Things to remember, we should join the Idea of some very known Place, Person, or Circumstance, to the Thing, we would remember; and we even see People, who never studied Rules, very commonly use this Method. How often have we heard People say, ‘This, that, or the other Circumstance, will make me remem­ber her such a Particular, or such, or such a Thing recalls it to my Mind.’

LETTER CXLII.

THE next Thing, I would recom­mend, is to conquer that Indolence, which some People are, either constitu­tionally or habitually, encumbered with. I know this is a very hard Lesson, and what I could never absolutely be Master of myself. What is accompanied with Difficulties, or what is not to our Taste, we bring ourselves to do with great Re­luctance; and we satisfy ourselves with any Sort of Excuse, to put it off and delay it, from Time to Time. I have often experienced this in myself; but if [Page 412] the Thing we thus fly from, is either necessary or proper, we ought, by all Means, to compel ourselves to do it, and even offer Violence to our Tempers, to overcome this Indolence. The best Method I know for this, is to take the first Opportunity when we are in a pro­per Disposition, and to make a Beginning. Thus all the Poets and Philosophers advise. Ovid says, "He, who has made a good Beginning, has half-ended his Business." ^* Horace and Perseus say the same; Incipe, that is, Begin, is their constant Rule. I will not give you the Translation of a noble Passage from Ho­race, it is so wretchedly rendered, but [Page 413] one of our Poets says, much to the same Purpose,

There is indeed nothing like making once a Beginning in earnest, for, by lit­tle and little, we are reconciled to the Subject and Task. Then Difficulties be­gin to vanish, at least, they grow smooth­er and easier by Degrees, especially if we set our Hearts to conquer them; and so, what was once our Aversion, be­comes, at last, easy, and often a Plea­sure to us.

The next Point to be observed, is to conquer our Curiosity. When we find [Page 414] our Hearts set upon some Reading, Bu­siness, or Diversion, that is improper, we should endeavour to master that Pas­sion, and make it submit to our Advan­tage; otherwise, every new Thing that surprises us, or that we are fond of, will make us break off, and turn away from the Pursuit of what is useful to us.

But in either Case, that is, when our Indolence, Aversion, or Curiosity, is so strong that we cannot conquer it at once, we ought to do it by Degrees. We may be in so unfit a Disposition, that our Struggling can do us no Good, at one Time; then, perhaps, we had better give Way, for that Instant, resolving not to yield it up, but get the better by Degrees. I have been seized with such [Page 415] a strong Curiosity, that if I had not in­dulged it for that Time, all other Appli­cations had been useless; for Example, on Receipt of some extraordinary News, or Letters long expected, and often on Receipt of Letters from you, that, tho' I had compelled myself not to read them, (which I could have done) yet I could not have done any Thing else to Pur­pose, 'till I had perused them, so much have they ran in my Head.

LETTER CXLIII.

THE last Point I would recommend in Study or Business, is what we call Method. The chief Rule herein, where the Nature of the Study requires it, is to get a general Idea of our Sub­ject-Matter, in all its different Parts. When we have seen through it, we should range those Parts in some Order, and fix them in our Mind. Thus seen through, the Affair will become much easier. Were we even but learning [Page 417] some new Game at Cards, it may be reasonably imagined that this Method will make us comprehend it much bet­ter, and more easily.

Our next Care is to be Master of the chief Difficulties, which will still ob­struct our Knowledge, and hang a dead Weight upon us, in the Course of our Studies, if not absolutely mastered. For Instance, in the French Language, those who will not be at the Pains to get the two Auxiliary Verbs Avoir and Etre perfectly at first, will find a heavy Clog lie upon them, through the whole Study of that Tongue, which will cost them ten Times the Pains, that would be ne­cessary to learn them perfectly at first.

[Page 418]You know yourself that there are some Rules of Practice, which make Things easy; and without which, we may puz­zle our whole Life over, without coming to our Purpose, or, at best, spend a long Time, and bestow vast Labour in resol­ving them. By common Arithmetick we may blacken many Sheets of Paper, and bestow many Hours, nay, even Days, to resolve a Question, which by Decimals or Algebra may be resolved in a few Minutes. But to illustrate this by an Instance familiar to yourself, how many Tricks at Cards have you shewed me, that I could never find out or ac­count for, unless you had pointed out the Method?

[Page 419]I shall take Occasion soon to transcribe the four famous Rules of Des-Cartes, and with them shall finish this Subject.

LETTER CXLIV.

YOU say there is Part of a former Letter, which you do not clearly comprehend; and I can perceive that you think I have given contradictory [Page 420] Rules, though you do not so express your­self. I proceed to explain it.

There is a great Difference between conquering or subduing our Passions, and extinguishing them. It is certainly our Duty to be Masters of our Passions and Appetites, but not to extinguish them, for they were given us by the wise Author of our Nature for excellent Purposes. Without them, we should never be at Pains to do any good or great Action; and therefore when they are subservient to our Reason, they bear the Mind up against Fatigue, Indolence, and In-appli­cation; but they make sad Work, when they reign and tyrannize over us. What Horace has said of Anger, may be said of every Passion and Appetite. I must [Page 421] give it you in the disadvantageous Trans­lation of Creech.

It is certain, that if we do not get the Mastery of our Passions, they will be our Masters— They must be ruled, or rule. Now to apply this to the Difficulty you propose.

It is most certainly a proper Oppor­tunity to learn a Thing, when our Cu­riosity is excited by some Accident. Then the Application will be vigorous, the [Page 422] Impressions deep, and will continue long. Yet, notwithstanding this, Reason, which is the Image of God in our Minds, and which distinguishes us from all the lower Creation, Reason, I say, should preside and controul.

If the Thing our Curiosity is employed about, is worth our While, we may then give the Reins to our Curiosity; otherwise, let us call in Reason to our Aid; let her keep her Seat, and do her Office. We must then take our strongest Bit, and firmest Rein. This is a Meta­phor, you see, taken from riding. The Rider is our Reason, the Horse, the Passions; which we must sometimes give the Reins to, sometimes check, some­times spur and switch, but, at all Times, [Page 423] direct and manage. You perceive all this agrees with what was first said, namely, that the Passions are to be go­verned, moderated, and subdued, but not extinguished, any more than a Horse, instead of being broke and trained, ought to be knocked on the Head, or all the Blood in the Body let out to cure a Fever, or the Head to be cut off, to cure a Vertigo.

Again, there is a great Difference be­tween some strong and sudden Gusts and Fits of Passion, Curiosity, for Instance, and an habitual Dominion of the Pas­sions over us. The best and wisest of Men may be now and then surprized, as the best Rider may be thrown, when [Page 424] he is not on his Guard, especially; now I say, in such a Case, for Example, if a strong Fit of Curiosity possesses us, which we cannot conquer, as in the Particulars I mentioned to you, it is bet­ter to yield a little for the Time, than to struggle in vain; yet, by no Means, to let it run into a Habit, but resume the Reins, as soon as possible. Just so, there are sometimes Fits of Indolence, Indisposition, Weariness, and Listlessness, if I may call it so, which seize us, and must be yielded Way to, for a short Time; but, if encouraged, are considera­bly more dangerous than the other; and for this good Reason, that all active Pas­sions, such as Curiosity, decrease in Time, and wear out, or grow weaker by their [Page 425] own Activity, as Things in Motion tend to Rest, at last; but Indolence, the more it is humoured, the more it grows, as Things at Rest never tend to Motion again of themselves, but must be put into Motion by a new Force; and if they are heavy Bodies, the longer they lie on the Earth, the deeper they sink into if. This common and daily Expe­rience shews us.

LETTER CXLV.

I Shall now give you the famous Mons. Des-Cartes four Rules of Me­thod.

Rule I. ‘To admit nothing for Truth, but what you hare fully examined, and found to be so true, as that you have no Reason to doubt it; and to conclude nothing absolutely, but what you see clearly to follow from what you have so considered.’

[Page 427]This Rule is of excellent Use, to find out the Truth in Things of Difficulty, or to attain to the Knowledge of what requires Application. But I must warn you, that there are many Things, where this is not necessary, as in Things qui sautent aux Yeux, as the French say, Things clear and obvious in themselves, or Things that commonly occur in Life, or are generally known and practised; and in Things that do not concern you whether they be true or false, and in many trifling Matters. For Want of this Precaution, I have heard of some Ad­mirers of Des-Cartes, who have run into unaccountable Follies, and have given themselves great Disquiet, in applying his Rules on every Occasion, and have [Page 428] thereby made their Lives a Burthen to selves.

Rule II. ‘That all the Difficulties you are to examine, be divided into such and so many Parts as are necessary, in order to attain the Knowledge of what you pursue.’

I shall say nothing on this Rule; I think the Usefulness of it is very plain.

Rule III. ‘To dispose all the Parti­culars you are to consider, in the most natural Order.’

That is, you are to consider the more simple and plain Things, before the more compounded and perplexed; those [Page 429] that are necessary to be first understood, before those that arise out of them. For Example, in Arithmetic, which you un­derstand a little.

A Numeration-Table stands first; then we learn to add Numbers to Num­bers; the next Thing that naturally fol­lows, is to take Numbers from Num­bers, which is most easily learned, after we have learned to add Numbers. This is called Substraction. After this, Mul­tiplication becomes familiar and easy; then follows Division, which requires both Addition, Subtraction, and Multi­plication in the Operation.

In Euclid's famous Principles of the Mathematics, called his Elements, he pro­ceeds [Page 430] in this admirable Method. His first Proposition is necessary to the un­derstanding the second, the second to the third, the third to the fourth, and so on. This I think sufficient to explain what I mean.

This Rule, however, only holds good in Things that have a Relation or Con­nection, and Dependence on one ano­ther. As for Example, in learning French, as I said before, we shall be continually at a Loss, if we do not make ourselves Masters of the auxiliary Verbs, avoir and étre, because they run into every Verb. Yet I think the surest Way to get the French is to begin, after these two Verbs, with the other Verbs regular and irregular, though they are much [Page 431] harder than Nouns, Pronouns, &c. The Reason is, there is no such necessary Connection between these and Verbs, that they must be learned first, in order to gain the other; and as we remember best what we learn first in the Study of Languages, I am firmly of Opi­nion, that Verbs ought to be first at­tained.

Rule IV. ‘To be sure to omit no­thing necessary to be taken into the Consideration of the Question you are in Search of, or the Attainment of what you want to know.’

How many People have laboured in vain to come to the Ground of a Difficulty, or even attain the Understanding of an [Page 432] Art or Trade perfectly, by not observing this Rule; and perhaps omitting one ne­cessary Thing, which made all the rest defective!

Some People have thought a fifth Rule necessary, and indeed I am one of them.

Rule V. ‘To separate every thing from the Question, that is not per­tinent to the Resolution of the Dif­ficulty.’

I have often thought this Rule as ne­cessary as any of the others. When we take any foreign Matter into the State of a Question, or Study of a Point, it embarrasses and perplexes us, and carries [Page 433] us away on a wrong Scent. You cannot fail to have observed this in People, whose Passions, Prejudices, Inattention, Igno­rance, or Mistakes, lead them away from the Point in Question, and make them wander quite from the true State of it.

The learned have stated two Kinds of Reasoning in the Mind, Discourse, or Method, as they call it. My next shall be on that Subject, but I shall be very short, and then I have done.

LETTER CXLVI.

THE two Methods I mentioned, my dear Nancy, are termed by the Learned, the Analytic Method, and the Synthetic Method. These are two Greek Words. The first signifies no more, in plain English, than to resolve, or sepa­rate, and take into Pieces; the latter, to compound or lay together; and in all Things that we would learn or know, one or other of these must be followed; for we must either separate the Subject into different Parts, and consider those distinctly, or we must put them toge­ther, [Page 435] and consider them jointly, and see what will be the Result.

But these two Methods are not indif­ferent to every Sort of Subject. The Nature of some requires to be considered analytically, others synthetically, and to come at the Knowledge of some Things, both must be used.

In Grammar, that is, the learning of a Language, the analytical Method is used to understand to read, write, or speak a Language; we consider the dif­ferent Parts of Speech, as Nouns, Pro­nouns, Verbs, &c. In Nouns we con­sider the Substantives and Adjectives; we divide them into declinable and indecli­nable; we divide the Declensions, con­sider [Page 436] the different Cases, Numbers, Gen­ders, and so forth. In Pronouns we consider the first, second, and third Per­son, the demonstrative, relative, and pos­sessive. Verbs we divide into regular and irregular; then into active, passive, neu­ter, and reciprocal; then we consider them in their different Moods, Tenses, Persons, and Numbers. This is suffi­cient to make you apprehend the Use­fulness of this Method, called analytical.

In Logic, that is, the Art of Reason­ing, we proceed in another Manner. Here we begin with simple Perception, or what is called a single Idea. Then we proceed to Judgment, that is, con­sidering two Ideas together, and com­paring them and finding the Relation or [Page 437] Want of Relation between them. For Example, when we consider the Ideas of Fire and Heat together, we pronounce "that Fire is hot." When we consider and compare the Ideas we have of God and Death, or Sin, we find a Want of Relation, or an Incompatibility between them; hence we pronounce, ‘God is not subject to Death, or to Sin.’

When we have thus formed a Judg­ment, we can go further, and carry on our Reasoning in a Chain; as thus— ‘If God cannot sin, he must necessa­rily be good; if he cannot die, he must be eternal.’ This is called Dis­course; which Word does not properly signify talking as we use it, but reason­ing, and laying Things together, or [Page 438] separating them, and so finding out In­ferences.

We then proceed to Method; which is, ordering and disposing our Thoughts, so as best to attain the Knowledge of what we want to find out, by either or both of the afore-mentioned Ways; and all the Art of Logic depends on these four Operations on the Mind, to wit, Perception, Judgment, Discourse, and Method.

Thus in Geometry, a Point is first considered; next to that a Line, which is a Continuation of Points; this gives us the Idea of Length; the next is the Idea of Breadth; from these two we have the Idea of Surface; and when to [Page 439] Length and Breadth we take in Depth, we get the Idea of a Solid. From these Ideas arise all our Notions of Squares, Curves, Triangles, Cubes, &c. with all their Proportions and Relations.

You have now, I doubt not, a just Notion of what is called analytical, what synthetical, and of the Usefulness of their different Operations.

I said that in some Studies both Me­thods may be necessary; and they may be so, either in some different Parts of a long or intricate Question, or even sometimes to the right understanding of the whole.

[Page 440]To give the best Idea hereof that I can, take this familiar Illustration.

Suppose you wanted to know the Ma­chinery and Movements of a Watch, it would be necessary to take the whole Movement in Pieces before you, to ex­plain the Use of every Part, to make you observe the Shape, Form, and Figure of each, to shew you how it is fitted for such or such an Use, or Purpose, and how its Structure contributes to this Use. This is the Analytical Method. But to make you understand it perfectly, would it not, think you, be proper to put it together again before you, and to shew you thereby how each Part corresponded with and related to another, and how, from that Construction and Composition, the [Page 441] Motions arise, and were continued, and conducted to the End, for which a Watch was designed? This is the Syn­thetical Method.

In such an Operation as this, we have Occasion to consider every thing duly, and so to admit nothing to be true, that is to say, fit for the Pur­pose it is said to be designed for, un­less it evidently appears so. Here then is a Distribution of the Subject into as many Parts as are necessary; the simple Parts are first considered, then the Connection with others, then these Parts as compounded, and lastly the whole Frame, Composition, or System. Now if all these are duly considered, a nice Discerner will find out what is [Page 442] wanting, and, by that Means, will omit nothing that is necessary to the Perfec­tion of the Machine; and if there is any thing amiss, or superfluous, he will be sensible, that it is to be altered, or re­moved. Herein then are the whole five Rules of Method, mentioned in my for­mer Letter, comprized.

If Mr. Greme (the best Watch-Maker, perhaps, that ever was in the World) had not seen many Watches both taken asunder and put together, and had not considered every Part nicely by itself, and the whole when united, he would never have been able to remove some Things, and to add or alter others, as he has often done, to amazing Advantage.

[Page 443]I shall add no more on this Sub­ject, only recommend a Treatise of Mr. Locke's, called The Conduct of the Un­derstanding.

LETTER CXLVII.

I AM very well pleased with your Ob­servations on Tasso; they are both in­genious and just, and no Critic needs be ashamed of them.

[Page 444]Since I wrote you last, our Professor of Poetry had a public Speech. It was on the Figure Prosopopea. This is, in plain English, imagining a Person, and directing our Discourse to him. He divided it into two Kinds, either ap­plying to a Person absent, or to an ina­nimate Thing, as if it were a living Person.

This Division is well understood and very common. Thousands of Instances, of both Kinds, are to be found in Ho­mer, Virgil, Ovid, Milton, &c. Of the first Sort there is an Instance near the Beginning of the first Book of the Aeneid, where Aeneas invokes Tydides, as if he were present; but it is much stronger expressed in the Original, than [Page 445] in the Translation. A noble Instance of the second Sort is in the fourth Book of Paradise Lost, where Satan addresses himself to the Sun; and in another Place, where Eve talks to the Flowers, Trees, and Brooks, from which she is about to be banished.

But our Professor's chief Design was to shew that there were more strong, more grand, and more emphatical Fi­gures, of this Kind, in the Holy Scrip­tures, than in all the Poets put toge­ther. For Instance, ‘Hear, O Heaven, and give Ear, O Earth.’ Jeremiah addresses himself to the Sword of the Lord, "which," he says, ‘thirsteth for Blood;’ and to his Arrows, which he calls "the Children of his Quiver." He [Page 446] quoted many more, all very strong and emphatical, and shewed us some of the finest Prosopopea's mixed with the strongest and most expressive Metaphors, and other Figures. But he insisted chiefly on a Passage in the Song of Deborah and Si­rak, where they do not make a Prosopo­pea to the Mother of Sisera, but imagine her talking to her Ladies, and thence so impatient as to answer herself ^*. He [Page 447] observed the Impatience of a Mother for the Return of her Son, her looking out at the Lattice, her asking her Ladies, her returning Answer to herself, and then the Particulars that ran most in her Head, not Conquest nor Glory, but captive Damsels, and fine gorgeous Raiment; with an Imagination so warm and full, that she describes them as minutely as if she had seen them. This, he said, was na­tural to the Sex, quoted a similar Pas­sage in Virgil, where Camilla is so blinded with the Armour of Arunces, that it oc­casions her to lose her Life. He then made an unfavourable Reflection, name­ly, how much the female Sex is taken up with Toys, and gaudy Trifles; a Reflection, which, I flatter myself, will [Page 448] never, with any Justice, be applied to you.