,ver4#jd4bi4ic99;,,end99                
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donated by ,caere ,corporation1         
#a-hjj-ece-gbbf4  ,contact ,mike ,lough 
,mikelcaere4com            ,,the ,,works
 ,,of ,,samuel ,,johnson  ,,in ,,sixteen
 ,,volumes  ,,volume ,,iv      ,,the    
,,rambler    ,,by ,,samuel ,,johnson    
,,contents    ,no4  #aga ,misella's     
description of the life of a prostitute4
  #agb ,the effect of sudden riches upon
 the manners4  #agc ,unreasonable fears 
of pedantry4  #agd ,the mischiefs of    
unbounded raillery4  ,history of        
,dicaculus  #age ,the majority are      
wicked4  #agf ,directions to authors    
attacked by criticks4  ,the various     
degrees of critical perspicacity4  #agg 
,an account of a club of antiquaries4   
#agh ,many advantages not to be enjoyed 
together4  #agi ,the awkward merriment  
of a student4  #ahj ,the study of life  
not to be neglected for the sake of     
books4  #aha ,the history of an         

adventurer in lotteries4  #ahb ,the     
history of ,leviculus1 the              
fortune-hunter4  #ahc ,the influence of 
envy and interest compared4  #ahd ,the  
subject of essays often suggested by    
chance4      ,chance equally prevalent  
in other affairs  #ahe ,the prohibition 
of revenge justifiable by reason4  ,the 
meanness of regulating our conduct by   
the opinions of men  #ahf ,anningait and
 ,ajut2 a ,greenland history  #ahg ,the 
history of ,anningait and ,ajut         
concluded  #ahh ,favour often gained    
with little assistance from             
understanding4  #ahi ,the mischiefs of  
falsehood4  ,the character of           
,turpicula4  #aij ,the history of       
,abouzaid1 the son of ,morad4  #aia ,the
 busy life of a young lady4  #aib ,love 
unsuccessful without riches4  #aic ,the 
author's art of praising himself4  #aid 
,a young nobleman's progress in         
politeness44  #aie ,a young nobleman's  
introduction to the knowledge of the    
town4  #aif ,human opinions mutable4    

,the hopes of youth fallacious4  #aig   
,the history of a legacy-hunter4  #aih  
,the legacy-hunter's history concluded4 
#aii ,the virtues of ,rabbi ,abraham's  
magnet4  #bjj ,asper's complaint of the 
insolence of ,prospero                  
,unpoliteness not always the effect of  
pride4  #bja ,the importance of         
punctuality4  #bjb ,the different       
acceptations of poverty4  ,cynicks and  
,monks not poor4  #bjc ,the pleasures of
 life to be sought in prospects of      
futurity4      ,future fame uncertain4  
#bjd ,the history of ten days of ,seged1
 emperour of ,ethiopia4  #bje ,the      
history of ,seged concluded4  #bjf ,the 
art of living at the cost of others4    
#bjg ,the folly of continuing too long  
upon the stage4  #bjh ,the ,rambler's   
reception4  ,his design4      ,,the     
,,adventurer    ,,no4  #cd ,folly of    
extravagance4  ,the story of            
,misargyrus4  #ci ,on sleep4  #da       
,sequel of the story of ,misargyrus4    
#de ,the difficulty of forming          

confederacies4  #ej ,on lying4  #ec     
,misargyrus' account of his companions  
in the ,fleet4  #eh ,presumption of     
modern criticism censured4     ,ancient 
poetry necessarily obscure4  ,examples  
from ,horace4  #fb ,misargyrus' account 
of his companions concluded4  #fg ,on   
the trades of ,londo4  #fi ,idle hope4  
#gd ,apology for neglecting officious   
advice4  #ha ,incitement to enterprise  
and emulation4     ,some account of the 
admirable ,crichton4  #hd ,folly of     
false pretences to importance4  ,a      
journey in a stage coach4  #he ,study1  
composition and converse equally        
necessary     to intellectual           
accomplishment4  #ib ,criticism on the  
,pastorals of ,virgil4  #ie ,apology for
 apparent plagiarism4  ,sources of      
literary variety4  #ii ,projectors      
injudiciously censured and applauded4   
#ajb ,infelicities of retirement to men 
of business4  #ajg ,different opinions  
equally plausible4  #ajh ,on the        
uncertainty of human things4            

,,the ,,works ,,of ,,samuel ,,johnson   
,,in ,,sixteen ,,volumes  ,,volume ,,iv 
,,the ,,rambler    ,,by ,,samuel        
,,johnson            ,no4 #aga4         
,,tuesday1 ,,november #e1 #agea         
,toeet coeli convexa tueri4    ,,virg4  
,a,en4 iv4 #dea4   ,dark is the sun1 and
 loathsome is the day4    ,,to ,,the    
,,rambler4    ,,sir1    ,,misella now   
sits down to continue her  narrative4   
,i am convinced that nothing would  more
 powerfully preserve youth from         
irregularity1  or guard inexperience    
from seduction1 than a just  description
 of the condition into which the wanton 
plunges herself2 and therefore hope that
 my letter  may be a sufficient antidote
 to my example4    ,after the           
distraction1 hesitation1 and delays     
which  the timidity of guilt naturally  
produces1 ,i was  removed to lodgings in
 a distant part of the town1  under one 
of the characters commonly assumed upon 
such occasions4  ,here being by my      
circumstances  condemned to solitude1 ,i

 passed most of my hours  in bitterness 
and anguish4  ,the conversation of the  
people with whom ,i was placed was not  
at all capable  of engaging my          
attention1 or dispossessing the         
reigning ideas4  ,the books which ,i    
carried to my  retreat were such as     
heightened my abhorrence of  myself2 for
 ,i was not so far abandoned as to sink 
voluntarily into corruption1 or         
endeavour to conceal  from my own mind  
the enormity of my crime4    ,my        
relation remitted none of his fondness1 
but  visited me so often1 that ,i was   
sometimes afraid  lest his assiduity    
should expose him to suspicion4         
,whenever he came he found me weeping1  
and was  therefore less delightfully    
entertained than he  expected4  ,after  
frequent expostulations upon the        
unreasonableness of my sorrow1 and      
innumerable  protestations of           
everlasting regard1 he at last found    
that ,i was more affected with the loss 
of my  innocence1 than the danger of my 

fame1 and that he  might not be         
disturbed by my remorse1 began to  lull 
my conscience with the opiates of       
irreligion4  ,his arguments were such as
 my course of life has  since exposed me
 often to the necessity of hearing1     
vulgar1 empty1 and fallacious2 yet they 
at first  confounded me by their        
novelty1 filled me with doubt  and      
perplexity1 and interrupted that peace  
which ,i  began to feel from the        
sincerity of my repentance1  without    
substituting any other support4  ,i     
listened  a while to his impious gabble1
 but its influence was  soon overpowered
 by natural reason and early education1 
and the convictions which this new      
attempt  gave me of his baseness        
completed my abhorrence4  ,i have heard 
of barbarians1 who1 when tempests  drive
 ships upon their coast1 decoy them to  
the rocks  that they may plunder their  
lading1 and have always  thought that   
wretches1 thus merciless in their       
depredations1 ought to be destroyed by a

 general  insurrection of all social    
beings2 yet how light is this  guilt to 
the crime of him1 who1 in the agitations
 of  remorse1 cuts away the anchor of   
piety1 and1 when  he has drawn aside    
credulity from the paths of  virtue1    
hides the light of heaven which would   
direct  her to return4  ,i had hitherto 
considered him as a man  equally        
betrayed with myself by the concurrence 
of  appetite and opportunity2 but ,i now
 saw with horrour  that he was          
contriving to perpetuate his            
gratification1  and was desirous to fit 
me to his purpose1  by complete and     
radical corruption4    ,to escape1      
however1 was not yet in my power4  ,i   
could support the expenses of my        
condition only  by the continuance of   
his favour4  ,he provided all  that was 
necessary1 and in a few weeks           
congratulated  me upon my escape from   
the danger which  we had both expected  
with so much anxiety4  ,i  then began to
 remind him of his promise to restore   

me with my fame uninjured to the world4 
,he promised  me in general terms1 that 
nothing should be  wanting which his    
power could add to my happiness1  but   
forbore to release me from my           
confinement4  ,i knew how much my       
reception in the world  depended upon my
 speedy return1 and was therefore       
outrageously impatient of his delays1   
which ,i  now perceived to be only      
artifices of lewdness4  ,he  told me at 
last1 with an appearance of sorrow1 that
  all hopes of restoration to my former 
state were for  ever precluded2 that    
chance had discovered my  secret1 and   
malice divulged it2 and that nothing    
now remained1 but to seek a retreat more
 private1  where curiosity or hatred    
could never find us4    ,the rage1      
anguish1 and resentment1 which ,i felt  
at this account are not to be expressed4
  ,i was in so  much dread of reproach  
and infamy1 which he represented  as    
pursuing me with full cry1 that ,i      
yielded  myself implicitly to his       

disposal and was removed1  with a       
thousand studied precautions1 through   
by-  ways and dark passages to another  
house1 where ,i  harassed him with      
perpetual solicitations for a small     
annuity that might enable me to live in 
the country  in obscurity and innocence4
    ,this demand he at first evaded with
 ardent  professions1 but in time       
appeared offended at my  importunity and
 distrust2 and having one day           
endeavoured to sooth me with uncommon   
expressions  of tenderness1 when he     
found my discontent  immoveable1 left me
 with some inarticulate murmurs  of     
anger4  ,i was pleased that he was at   
last roused  to sensibility1 and        
expecting that at his next visit  he    
would comply with my request1 lived with
 great  tranquillity upon the money in  
my hands1 and was  so much pleased with 
this pause of persecution1 that  ,i did 
not reflect how much his absence had    
exceeded  the usual intervals1 till ,i  
was alarmed with  the danger of wanting 

subsistence4  ,i then suddenly          
contracted my expenses1 but was         
unwilling to  supplicate for assistance4
  ,necessity1 however1 soon  overcame my
 modesty or my pride1 and ,i applied to 
him by a letter1 but had no answer4  ,i 
writ in terms  more pressing1 but       
without effect4  ,i then sent an  agent 
to inquire after him1 who informed me1  
that  he had quitted his house1 and was 
gone with his  family to reside for some
 time on his estate in  ,ireland4       
,however shocked at this abrupt         
departure1 ,i was  yet unwilling to     
believe that he could wholly abandon    
me1 and therefore1 by the sale of my    
clothes1 ,i  supported myself1 expecting
 that every post would  bring me relief4
  ,thus ,i passed seven months  between 
hope and dejection1 in a gradual        
approach to  poverty and distress1      
emaciated with discontent1 and          
bewildered with uncertainty4  ,at last  
my landlady1  after many hints of the   
necessity of a new lover1  took the     

opportunity of my absence to search my  
boxes1 and missing some of my apparel1  
seized the  remainder for rent1 and led 
me to the door4    ,to remonstrate      
against legal cruelty1 was vain2 to     
supplicate obdurate brutality1 was      
hopeless4  ,i went  away ,i knew not    
whither1 and wandered about without  any
 settled purpose1 unacquainted with the 
usual  expedients of misery1 unqualified
 for laborious  offices1 afraid to meet 
an eye that had seen me  before1 and    
hopeless of relief from those who were  
strangers to my former condition4       
,night came on  in the midst of my      
distraction1 and ,i still continued  to 
wander till the menaces of the watch    
obliged me  to shelter myself in a      
covered passage4    ,next day1 ,i       
procured a lodging in the backward      
garret of a mean house1 and employed my 
landlady  to inquire for a service4  ,my
 applications were  generally rejected  
for want of a character4  ,at length  ,i
 was received at a draper's1 but when it

 was known  to my mistress that ,i had  
only one gown1 and that  of silk1 she   
was of opinion that ,i looked like a    
thief1  and without warning hurried me  
away4  ,i then tried  to support myself 
by my needle2 and1 by my landlady's     
recommendation obtained a little work   
from  a shop1 and for three weeks lived 
without repining2  but when my          
punctuality had gained me so much       
reputation1 that ,i was trusted to make 
up a head of  some value1 one of my     
fellow-lodgers stole the lace1  and ,i  
was obliged to fly from a prosecution4  
,thus driven again into the streets1 ,i 
lived upon  the least that could support
 me1 and at night  accommodated myself  
under pent-houses as well as ,i  could4 
,at length ,i became absolutely         
pennyless1  and having strolled all day 
without sustenance1 was1  at the close  
of evening1 accosted by an elderly man1 
with an invitation to a tavern4  ,i     
refused him with  hesitation2 he seized 
me by the hand1 and drew me  into a     

neigbouring house1 where1 when he saw my
  face pale with hunger1 and my eyes    
swelling with  tears1 he spurned me from
 him1 and bade me cant  and whine in    
some other place2 he for his part would 
take care of his pockets4    ,i still   
continued to stand in the way1 having   
scarcely strength to walk further1 when 
another soon  addressed me in the same  
manner4  ,when he saw  the same tokens  
of calamity1 he considered that ,i      
might be obtained at a cheap rate1 and  
therefore  quickly made overtures1 which
 ,i no longer had  firmness to reject4  
,by this man ,i was maintained four     
months in penurious wickedness1 and then
 abandoned  to my former condition1 from
 which ,i was  delivered by another     
keeper4    ,in this abject state ,i have
 now passed four years1  the drudge of  
extortion and the sport of drunkenness2 
sometimes the property of one man1 and  
sometimes the common prey of accidental 
lewdness2  at one time tricked up for   
sale by the mistress of a  brothel1 at  

another begging in the streets to be    
relieved from hunger by wickedness2     
without any  hope in the day but of     
finding some whom folly or  excess may  
expose to my allurements1 and without   
any reflections at night1 but such as   
guilt and terrour  impress upon me4     
,if those who pass their days in plenty 
and  security1 could visit for an hour  
the dismal receptacles  to which the    
prostitute retires from her nocturnal   
excursions1 and see the wretches that   
lie crowded  together1 mad with         
intemperance1 ghastly with  famine1     
nauseous with filth1 and noisome with   
disease2  it would not be easy for any  
degree of abhorrence  to harden them    
against compassion1 or to  repress the  
desire which they must immediately feel 
to rescue such numbers of human beings  
from a state  so dreadful4    ,it is    
said1 that in ,france they annually     
evacuate  their streets1 and ship their 
prostitutes and vagabonds  to their     
colonies4  ,if the women that infest    

this city  had the same opportunity of  
escaping from their  miseries1 ,i       
believe very little force would be      
necessary2 for who among them can dread 
any change8  ,many of us indeed are     
wholly unqualified for any  but the most
 servile employments1 and those perhaps 
would require the care of a magistrate  
to hinder  them from following the same 
practices in another  country2 but      
others are only precluded by infamy     
from reformation1 and would gladly be   
delivered on  any terms from the        
necessity of guilt1 and the  tyranny of 
chance4  ,no place but a populous city1 
can afford opportunities for open       
prostitution2 and  where the eye of     
justice can attend to individuals1      
those who cannot be made good may be    
restrained  from mischief4  ,for my     
part1 ,i should exult at the  privilege 
of banishment1 and think myself happy in
  any region that should restore me once
 again to  honesty and peace4    ,i am1 
,sir1 c4    ,,misella4        ,no4 #agb4

 ,,saturday1 ,,november #i1 #agea       
,saepe rogare soles1 qualis sim1        
,prisce1 futurus1       ,si fiam        
locuples1 simque repente potens4        
,quemquam poss putas mores narrare      
futuros8       ,dic mihi1 si tu leo1    
qualis eris8    ,,mart4 ,lib4 xii4 ,ep4 
#ic4       ,priseus1 you've often ask'd 
me how ,i'd live1   ,should fate at once
 both wealth and honour give4   ,what   
soul his future conduct can foresee8    
,tell me what sort of lion you would be4
  ,f4 ,,lewis4    ,,nothing has been    
longer observed1 than that  a change of 
fortune causes a change of manners2  and
 that it is difficult to conjecture from
 the  conduct of him whom we see in a   
low condition1  how he would act1 if    
wealth and power were put  into his     
hands4  ,but it is generally agreed1    
that few  men are made better by        
affluence or exaltation2  and that the  
powers of the mind1 when they are       
unbound and expanded by the sunshine of 
felicity1  more frequently luxuriate    

into follies1 than blossom  into        
goodness4    ,many observations have    
concurred to establish  this opinion1   
and it is not likely soon to become     
obsolete1 for want of new occasions to  
revive it4  ,the  greater part of       
mankind are corrupt in every condition1 
and differ in high and in low stations1 
only  as they have more or fewer        
opportunities of gratifying  their      
desires1 or as they are more or less    
restrained by human censures4  ,many    
vitiate their  principles in the        
acquisition of riches2 and who can      
wonder that what is gained by fraud and 
extortion  is enjoyed with tyranny and  
excess8    ,yet ,i am willing to believe
 that the depravation  of the mind by   
external advantages1 though certainly   
not uncommon1 yet approaches not so     
nearly  to universality1 as some have   
asserted in the  bitterness of          
resentness1 or heat of declamation4     
,whoever rises above those who once     
pleased  themselves with equality1 will 

have many malevolent  gazers at his     
eminence4  ,to gain sooner than  others 
that which all pursue with the same     
ardour1  and to which all imagine       
themselves entitled1 will  for ever be a
 crime4  ,when those who started with   
us in the race of life1 leave us so far 
behind1 that we  have little hope to    
overtake them1 we revenge our           
disappointment by remarks on the arts of
 supplantation  by which they gained the
 advantage1 or on  the folly and        
arrogance with which they possess it4   
,of them1 whose rise we could not       
hinder1 we solace  ourselves by         
prognosticating the fall4    ,it is     
impossible for human purity not to      
betray  to an eye1 thus sharpened by    
malignity1 some stains  which lay       
concealed and unregarded1 while none    
thought it their interest to discover   
them2 nor can  the most circumspect     
attention1 or steady rectitude1  escape 
blame from censors1 who have no         
inclination  to approve4  ,riches       

therefore1 perhaps1 do not so  often    
produce crimes as incite accusers4      
,the common charge against those who    
rise above  their original condition1 is
 that of pride4  ,it is  certain that   
success naturally confirms us in a      
favourable opinion of our own abilities4
  ,scarce any man  is willing to allot  
to accident1 friendship1 and a  thousand
 causes1 which concur in every event    
without  human contrivance or           
interposition1 the part  which they may 
justly claim in his advancement4  ,we   
rate ourselves by our fortune rather    
than our  virtues1 and exorbitant claims
 are quickly produced  by imaginary     
merit4  ,but captiousness and jealousy  
are likewise easily offended1 and to him
 who  studiously looks for an affront1  
every mode of behaviour  will supply it2
 freedom will be rudeness1 and reserve  
sullenness2 mirth will be negligence1   
and seriousness  formality2 when he is  
received with ceremony1 distance  and   
respect are inculcated2 if he is treated

  with familiarity1 he concludes himself
 insulted by  condescensions4    ,it    
must however be confessed1 that as all  
sudden  changes are dangerous1 a quick  
transition from  poverty to abundance   
can seldom be made with safety4  ,he    
that has long lived within sight of     
pleasures  which he could not reach1    
will need more than  common moderation1 
not to lose his reason in unbounded     
riot1 when they are first put into his  
power4    ,every possession is endeared 
by novelty2 every  gratification is     
exaggerated by desire4  ,it is difficult
  not to estimate what is lately gained 
above its real  value2 it is impossible 
not to annex greater happiness  to that 
condition from which we are unwillingly 
excluded1 than nature has qualified us  
to  obtain4  ,for this reason1 the      
remote inheritor of an  unexpected      
fortune1 may be generally distinguished 
from those who are enriched in the      
common course  of lineal descent1 by his
 greater haste to enjoy his  wealth1 by 

the finery of his dress1 the pomp of    
his equipage1 the splendour of his      
furniture1 and the  luxury of his table4
    ,a thousand things which familiarity
 discovers to  be of little value1 have 
power for a time to seize  the          
imagination4  ,a ,virginian king1 when  
the ,europeans  had fixed a lock on his 
door1 was so delighted  to find his     
subjects admitted or excluded with such 
facility1 that it was from morning to   
evening his  whole employment to turn   
the key4  ,we1 among  whom locks and    
keys have been longer in use1 are       
inclined to laugh at this ,american     
amusement2 yet  ,i doubt whether this   
paper will have a single reader  that   
may not apply the story to himself1 and 
recollect some hours of his life in     
which he has been  equally overpowered  
by the transitory charms of  trifling   
novelty4    ,some indulgence is due to  
him whom a happy  gale of fortune has   
suddenly transported into new  regions1 
where unaccustomed lustre dazzles his   

eyes1  and untasted delicacies solicit  
his appetite4  ,let him  not be         
considered as lost in hopeless          
degeneracy1  though he for a while      
forgets the regard due to  others1 to   
indulge the contemplation of himself1   
and in the extravagance of his first    
raptures  expects that his eye should   
regulate the motions of  all that       
approach him1 and his opinion be        
received  as decisive and oraculous4    
,his intoxication will give  way to     
time2 the madness of joy will fume      
imperceptibly away2 the sense of his    
insufficiency will  soon return2 he will
 remember that the co-operation  of     
others is necessary to his happiness1   
and learn to conciliate their regard by 
reciprocal  beneficence4    ,there is1  
at least1 one consideration which ought 
to alleviate our censures of the        
powerful and rich4  ,to imagine them    
chargeable with all the guilt and  folly
 of their own actions1 is to be very    
little  acquainted with the world4      

,de l'absolu pouvoir vous ignorez       
l'yvresse1   ,et du lache flateur la    
voix enchanteresse4     ,thou hast not  
known the giddy whirls of fate1   ,nor  
servile flatteries which enchant the    
great4  ,,miss ,a4 ,w4      ,he that can
 do much good or harm1 will not find    
many whom ambition or cowardice will    
suffer to  be sincere4  ,while we live  
upon the level with the  rest of        
mankind1 we are reminded of our duty by 
the admonitions of friends and          
reproaches of  enemies2 but men who     
stand in the highest ranks of  society1 
seldom hear of their faults2 if by any  
accident an opprobrious clamour reaches 
their ears1  flattery is always at hand 
to pour in her opiates1 to  quiet       
conviction1 and obtund remorse4         
,favour is seldom gained but by         
conformity in  vice4  ,virtue can stand 
without assistance1 and  considers      
herself as very little obliged by       
countenance  and approbation3 but vice1 
spiritless and timorous1  seeks the     

shelter of crowds1 and support of       
confederacy4  ,the sycophant1 therefore1
 neglects the good  qualities of his    
patron1 and employs all his art on  his 
weaknesses and follies1 regales his     
reigning vanity1  or stimulates his     
prevalent desires4    ,virtue is        
sufficiently difficult with any         
circumstances1 but the difficulty is    
increased when reproof  and advice are  
frighted away4  ,in common life1 reason 
and conscience have only the appetites  
and  passions to encounter2 but in      
higher stations1 they  must oppose      
artifice and adulation4  ,he1 therefore1
  that yields to such temptations1      
cannot give those  who look upon his    
miscarriage much reason for  exultation1
 since few can justly presume that from 
the  same snare they should have been   
able to escape4        ,no4 #agc4       
,,tuesday1 ,,november #agea     ,quo    
virtus1 quo ferat error4  ,,hor4 ,de    
,ar4 ,poet4 #cjh4     ,now say1 where   
virtue stops1 and vice begins8    ,,as  

any action or posture1 long continued1  
will  distort and disfigure the limbs2  
so the mind  likewise is crippled and   
contracted by perpetual  application to 
the same set of ideas4  ,it is easy to  
guess  the trade of an artizan by his   
knees1 his fingers1 or  his shoulders3  
and there are few among men of  the more
 liberal professions1 whose minds do not
  carry the brand of their calling1 or  
whose conversation  does not quickly    
discover to what class of the  community
 they belong4    ,these peculiarities   
have been of great use1 in the  general 
hostility which every part of mankind   
exercises  against the rest1 to furnish 
insults and sarcasms4  ,every art has   
its dialect1 uncouth and ungrateful to  
all whom custom has not reconciled to   
its sound1 and  which therefore becomes 
ridiculous by a slight  misapplication1 
or unnecessary repetition4    ,the      
general reproach with which ignorance   
revenges the superciliousness of        
learning1 is that of  pedantry2 a       

censure which every man incurs1 who  has
 at any time the misfortune to talk to  
those who  cannot understand him1 and by
 which the modest  and timorous are     
sometimes frighted from the display  of 
their acquisitions1 and the exertion of 
their  powers4    ,the name of a pedant 
is so formidable to young  men when they
 first sally from their colleges1 and   
is so liberally scattered by those who  
mean to boast  their elegance of        
education1 easiness of manners1  and    
knowledge of the world1 that it seems to
 require  particular consideration2     
since1 perhaps1 if it were  once        
understood1 many a heart might be freed 
from  painful apprehensions1 and many a 
tongue delivered  from restraint4       
,pedantry is the unseasonable           
ostentation of  learning4  ,it may be   
discovered either in the choice of a    
subject1 or in the manner of treating   
it4  ,he is  undoubtedly guilty of      
pedantry1 who1 when he has  made himself
 master of some abstruse and            

uncultivated  part of knowledge1        
obtrudes his remarks and  discoveries   
upon those whom he believes unable to   
judge of his proficiency1 and from whom1
 as he  cannot fear contradiction1 he   
cannot properly expect  applause4    ,to
 this error the student is sometimes    
betrayed  by the natural recurrence of  
the mind to its common  employment1 by  
the pleasure which every man receives   
from the recollection of pleasing       
images1 and  the desire of dwelling upon
 topicks1 on which he  knows himself    
able to speak with justness4  ,but      
because we are seldom so far prejudiced 
in favour of  each other1 as to search  
out for palliations1 this failure  of   
politeness is imputed always to vanity2 
and the  harmless collegiate1 who1      
perhaps1 intended  entertainment and    
instruction1 or at worst only spoke     
without sufficient reflection upon the  
character of  his hearers1 is censured  
as arrogant or overbearing1  and eager  
to extend his renown1 in contempt of the

  convenience of society and the laws of
 conversation4    ,all discourse of     
which others cannot partake1 is  not    
only an irksome usurpation of the time  
devoted  to pleasure and entertainment1 
but what never fails  to excite very    
keen resentment1 an insolent assertion  
of superiority1 and a triumph over less 
enlightened  understandings4  ,the      
pedant is1 therefore1 not only  heard   
with weariness1 but malignity2 and those
 who  conceive themselves insulted by   
his knowledge1  never fail to tell with 
acrimony how injudiciously  it was      
exerted4    ,to avoid this dangerous    
imputation1 scholars  sometimes divest  
themselves with too much haste  of their
 academical formality1 and in their     
endeavours to accommodate their notions 
and their style  to common conceptions1 
talk rather of any thing  than of that  
which they understand1 and sink into    
insipidity of sentiment and meanness of 
expression4    ,there prevails among men
 of letters an opinion1  that all       

appearance of science is particularly   
hateful  to women2 and that therefore1  
whoever desires to  be well received in 
female assemblies1 must qualify  himself
 by a total rejection of all that is    
serious1  rational1 or important2 must  
consider argument or  criticism1 as     
perpetually interdicted2 and devote all 
his attention to trifles1 and all his   
eloquence to  compliment4    ,students  
often form their notions of the present 
generation from the writings of the     
past1 and are  not very early informed  
of those changes which the  gradual     
diffusion of knowledge1 or the sudden   
caprice of fashion1 produces in the     
world4  ,whatever  might be the state of
 female literature in the last  century1
 there is now no longer any danger lest 
the  scholar should want an adequate    
audience at the  tea-table2 and whoever 
thinks it necessary to  regulate his    
conversation by antiquated rules1 will  
be  rather despised for his futility    
than caressed for his  politeness4      

,to talk intentionally in a manner above
 the  comprehension of those whom we    
address1 is unquestionable  pedantry2   
but surely complaisance requires1  that 
no man should1 without proof1 conclude  
his  company incapable of following him 
to the highest  elevation of his fancy1 
or the utmost extent of his  knowledge4 
,it is always safer to err in favour of 
others than of ourselves1 and therefore 
we seldom  hazard much by endeavouring  
to excel4    ,it ought at least to be   
the care of learning1 when  she quits   
her exaltation1 to descend with dignity4
  ,nothing is more despicable than the  
airiness and  jocularity of a man bred  
to severe science1 and  solitary        
meditation4  ,to trifle agreeably is a  
secret  which schools cannot impart2    
that gay negligence  and vivacious      
levity1 which charm down resistance     
whenever they appear1 are never         
attainable by him  who1 having spent his
 first years among the dust  of         
libraries1 enters late into the gay     

world with an  unpliant attention and   
established habits4    ,it is observed  
in the panegyrick on ,fabricus the      
mechanist1 that1 though forced by       
publick employments  into mingled       
conversation1 he never lost the  modesty
 and seriousness of the convent1 nor    
drew  ridicule upon himself by an       
affected imitation of  fashionable life4
  ,to the same praise every man  devoted
 to learning ought to aspire4  ,if he   
attempts  the softer arts of pleasing1  
and endeavours to learn  the graceful   
bow and the familiar embrace1 the       
insinuating accent and the general      
smile1 he will  lose the respect due to 
the character of learning1  without     
arriving at the envied honour of doing  
any  thing with elegance and facility4  
,theophrastus was discovered not to be a
 native  of ,athens1 by so strict an    
adherence to the ,attick  dialect1 as   
shewed that he had learned it not by    
custom1 but by rule4  ,a man not early  
formed to habitual  elegance1 betrays1  

in like manner1 the effects of his      
education1 by an unnecessary anxiety of 
behaviour4  ,it is as possible to become
 pedantick1 by fear of  pedantry1 as to 
be troublesome by ill-timed civility4   
,there is no kind of impertinence more  
justly  censurable than his who is      
always labouring to level  thoughts to  
intellects higher than his own2 who     
apologizes for every word which his own 
narrowness  of converse inclines him to 
think unusual2  keeps the exuberance of 
his faculties under visible  restraint2 
is solicitous to anticipate inquiries by
  needless explanations2 and endeavours 
to shade his  own abilities1 lest weak  
eyes should be dazzled with  their      
lustre4        ,no4 #agd4 ,,saturday1   
,,november #ae1 #agea     ,faenum habet 
vn cornu1 longe fuge2 dummodo risum     
,excutiat sibi1 non hic cuiquam parcet  
amico4    ,,hor4 ,lib4 i4 ,sat4 iv4 #cd4
       ,yonder he drives--avoid that    
furious beast3   ,if he may have his    
jest1 he never cares   ,at whose        

expense2 nor friend nor patron spares4  
,,francis4      ,,to ,,the ,,rambler4   
,,mr4 ,,rambler1    ,,the laws of social
 benevolence require1 that  every man   
should endeavour to assist others  by   
his experience4  ,he that has at last   
escaped into  port from the fluctuations
 of chances and the gusts  of           
opposition1 ought to make some          
improvements  in the chart of life1 by  
marking the rocks on which  he has been 
dashed1 and the shallows where he has   
been stranded4    ,the errour into which
 ,i was betrayed1 when  custom first    
gave me up to my own direction1 is very 
frequently incident to the quick1 the   
sprightly1 the  fearless1 and the gay2  
to all whose ardour hurries  them into  
precipitate execution of their designs1 
and imprudent declaration of their      
opinions2 who  seldom count the cost of 
pleasure1 or examine the  distant       
consequences of any practice that       
flatters  them with immediate           
gratification4    ,i came forth into the

 crowded world with the  usual juvenile 
ambition1 and desired nothing  beyond   
the title of a wit4  ,money ,i          
considered as  below my care2 for ,i saw
 such multitudes grow rich  without     
understanding1 that ,i could not forbear
 to  look on wealth as an acquisition   
easy to industry  directed by genius1   
and therefore threw it aside as  a      
secondary convenience1 to be procured   
when my  principal wish should be       
satisfied1 and the claim to             
intellectual excellence universally     
acknowledged4    ,with this view ,i     
regulated my behaviour in  publick1 and 
exercised my meditations in solitude4   
,my  life was divided between the care  
of providing  topicks for the           
entertainment of my company1 and  that  
of collecting company worthy to be      
entertained2  for ,i soon found1 that   
wit1 like every other  power1 has its   
boundaries2 that its success depends    
upon the aptitude of others to receive  
impressions2  and that as some bodies1  

indissoluble by heat1 can  set the      
furnace and crucible at defiance1 there 
are  minds upon which the rays of fancy 
may be pointed  without effect1 and     
which no fire of sentiment can  agitate 
or exalt4    ,it was1 however1 not long 
before ,i fitted myself  with a set of  
companions who knew how to laugh1  and  
to whom no other recommendation was     
necessary  than the power of striking   
out a jest4  ,among  those ,i fixed my  
residence1 and for a time enjoyed  the  
felicity of disturbing the neighbours   
every night  with the obstreperous      
applause which my sallies  forced from  
the audience4  ,the reputation of our   
club  every day increased1 and as my    
flights and remarks  were circulated by 
my admirers1 every day brought  new     
solicitations for admission into our    
society4    ,to support this perpetual  
fund of merriment1 ,i  frequented every 
place of concourse1 cultivated the      
acquaintance of all the fashionable     
race1 and passed  the day in a continual

 succession of visits1 in which  ,i     
collected a treasure of pleasantry for  
the expenses  of the evening4  ,whatever
 errour of conduct ,i could  discover1  
whatever peculiarity of manner ,i could 
observe1 whatever weakness was betrayed 
by confidence1  whatever lapse was      
suffered by neglect1 all  was drawn     
together for the diversion of my wild   
companions1 who when they had been      
taught the  art of ridicule1 never      
failed to signalize themselves  by a    
zealous imitation1 and filled the town  
on  the ensuing day with scandal and    
vexation1 with  merriment and shame4    
,i can scarcely believe1 when ,i        
recollect my own  practice1 that ,i     
could have been so far deluded with     
petty praise1 as to divulge the secrets 
of trust1 and  to expose the levities of
 frankness2 to waylay the  walks of the 
cautious1 and surprise the security of  
the thoughtless4  ,yet it is certain1   
that for many  years ,i heard nothing   
but with design to tell it1 and  saw    

nothing with any other curiosity than   
after some  failure that might furnish  
out a jest4    ,my heart1 indeed1       
acquits me of deliberate  malignity1 or 
interested insidiousness4  ,i had no    
other  purpose than to heighten the     
pleasure of laughter by  communication1 
nor ever raised any pecuniary  advantage
 from the calamities of others4  ,i led 
weakness  and negligence into           
difficulties1 only that ,i might  divert
 myself with their perplexities and     
distresses2  and violated every law of  
friendship1 with no other  hope than    
that of gaining the reputation of       
smartness  and waggery4    ,i would not 
be understood to charge myself with  any
 crimes of the atrocious or destructive 
kind4  ,i  never betrayed an heir to    
gamesters1 or a girl to  debauchees2    
never intercepted the kindness of a     
patron1 or sported away the reputation  
of innocence4  ,my delight was only in  
petty mischief1 and momentary           
vexations1 and my acuteness was employed

 not  upon fraud and oppression1 which  
it had been  meritorious to detect1 but 
upon harmless ignorance or  absurdity1  
prejudice or mistake4    ,this inquiry  
,i pursued with so much diligence  and  
sagacity1 that ,i was able to relate1 of
 every man  whom ,i knew1 some blunder  
or miscarriage2 to  betray the most     
circumspect of my friends into follies1 
by a judicious flattery of his          
predominant passion2  or expose him to  
contempt1 by placing him in             
circumstances which put his prejudices  
into action1  brought to view his       
natural defects1 or drew the  attention 
of the company on his airs of           
affectation4    ,the power had been     
possessed in vain if it had  never been 
exerted2 and it was not my custom to    
let any arts of jocularity remain       
unemployed4  ,my  impatience of applause
 brought me always early to  the place  
of entertainment2 and ,i seldom failed  
to  lay a scheme with the small knot    
that first gathered  round me1 by which 

some of those whom we expected  might be
 made subservient to our sport4  ,every 
man has some favourite topick of        
conversation1  on which1 by a feigned   
seriousness of attention1  he may be    
drawn to expatiate without end4  ,every 
man has some habitual contortion of     
body1 or  established mode of           
expression1 which never fails to raise  
mirth if it be pointed out to notice4   
,by premonitions  of these              
particularities ,i secured our          
pleasantry4  ,our  companion entered    
with his usual gaiety1 and began  to    
partake of our noisy cheerfulness1 when 
the  conversation was imperceptibly     
diverted to a subject  which pressed    
upon his tender part1 and extorted  the 
expected shrug1 the customary           
exclamation1 or  the predicted remark4  
,a general clamour of joy  then burst   
from all that were admitted to the      
stratagem4  ,our mirth was often        
increased by the triumph  of him that   
occasioned it2 for as we do not hastily 

form conclusions against ourselves1     
seldom any one  suspected1 that he had  
exhilarated us otherwise than  by wit4  
,you will hear1 ,i believe1 with very   
little surprise1  that by this conduct  
,i had in a short time united  mankind  
against me1 and that every tongue was   
diligent in prevention or revenge4  ,i  
soon perceived  myself regarded with    
malevolence or distrust1 but  wondered  
what had been discovered in me either   
terrible or hateful4  ,i had invaded no 
man's property2  ,i had rivalled no     
man's claims3 nor had ever engaged  in  
any of those attempts which provoke the 
jealousy  of ambition or the rage of    
faction4  ,i had lived but  to laugh1   
and make others laugh2 and believed that
  ,i was loved by all who caressed1 and 
favoured by  all who applauded me4  ,i  
never imagined1 that he  who1 in the    
mirth of a nocturnal revel1 concurred in
  ridiculing his friend1 would consider1
 in a cooler  hour1 that the same trick 
might be played against  himself2 or    

that even where there is no sense of    
danger1 the natural pride of human      
nature rises  against him1 who1 by      
general censures1 lays claim to  general
 superiority4    ,i was convinced1 by a 
total desertion1 of the  impropriety of 
my conduct2 every man avoided1 and      
cautioned others to avoid me4  ,wherever
 ,i came1 ,i  found silence and         
dejection1 coldness and terrour4  ,no   
one would venture to speak1 lest he     
should lay  himself open to unfavourable
 representations2 the  company1 however 
numerous1 dropped off at my  entrance   
upon various pretences2 and1 if ,i      
retired  to avoid the shame of being    
left1 ,i heard confidence  and mirth    
revive at my departure4    ,if those    
whom ,i had thus offended could have    
contented themselves with repaying one  
insult for  another1 and kept up the war
 only by a reciprocation  of sarcasms1  
they might have perhaps vexed1  but     
would never have much hurt me2 for no   
man  heartily hates him at whom he can  

laugh4  ,but these  wounds which they   
give me as they fly1 are without  cure2 
this alarm which they spread by their   
solicitude  to escape me1 excludes me   
from all friendship  and from all       
pleasure4  ,i am condemned to pass a    
long interval of my life in solitude1 as
 a man  suspected of infection is       
refused admission into cities2  and must
 linger in obscurity1 till my conduct   
shall  convince the world1 that ,i may  
be approached  without hazard4    ,i am1
 c4    ,,dicaculus4        ,no4 #age4   
,,tuesday1 ,,november #ai1 #agea        
,rari quippe boni1 numerus vix est      
totidem quot   ,thebarum portoe1 vel    
divitis ostia ,nili4  ,,juv4 ,sat4 xiii4
 #bf4     ,good men are scarce1 the just
 are thinly sown3   ,they thrive but    
ill1 nor can they last when grown4      
,and should we count them1 and our store
 compile1   ,yet ,thebes more gates     
could shew1 more mouths the ,nile4      
,,creech4      ,,none of the axioms of  
wisdom which recommend  the ancient     

sages to veneration1 seem to  have      
required less extent of knowledge or    
perspicacity of penetration1 than the   
remarks of ,bias1  that gr oi pleones   
cacoioe1 ,the majority are wicked4      
,the depravity of mankind is so easily  
discoverable1 that nothing but the      
desert or the cell can  exclude it from 
notice4  ,the knowledge of crimes       
intrudes uncalled and undesired4  ,they 
whom their  abstraction from common     
occurrences hinders from  seeing        
iniquity1 will quickly have their       
attention  awakened by feeling it4      
,even he who ventures not  into the     
world1 may learn its corruption in his  
closet4  ,for what are treatises of     
morality1 but persuasives  to the       
practice of duties1 for which no        
arguments  would be necessary1 but that 
we are continually  tempted to violate  
or neglect them 8  ,what are all  the   
records of history1 but narratives of   
successive  villanies1 of treasons and  
usurpations1 massacres  and wars8       

,but1 perhaps1 the excellence of        
aphorisms  consists not so much in the  
expression of some rare  and abstruse   
sentiment1 as in the comprehension of   
some obvious and useful truths in a few 
words4  ,we  frequently fall into errour
 and folly1 not because  the true       
principles of action are not known1 but 
because1 for a time1 they are not       
remembered2  and he may therefore be    
justly numbered among  the benefactors  
of mankind1 who contracts the great     
rules of life into short sentences1 that
 may be easily  impressed on the memory1
 and taught by frequent  recollection to
 recur habitually to the mind4          
,however those who have passed through  
half the  life of man1 may now wonder   
that any should require  to be cautioned
 against corruption1 they will  find    
that they have themselves purchased     
their  conviction by many               
disappointments and vexations  which an 
earlier knowledge would have spared     
them2  and may see1 on every side1 some 

entangling themselves  in perplexities1 
and some sinking into ruin1  by         
ignorance or neglect of the maxim of    
,bias4    ,every day sends out1 in quest
 of pleasure and  distinction1 some heir
 fondled in ignorance1 and  flattered   
into pride4  ,he comes forth with all   
the  confidence of a spirit unacquainted
 with superiors1 and  all the           
benevolence of a mind not yet irritated 
by  opposition1 alarmed by fraud1 or    
embittered by  cruelty4  ,he loves all1 
because he imagines himself  the        
universal favourite4  ,every exchange of
 salutation  produces new acquaintance1 
and every acquaintance  kindles into    
friendship4    ,every season brings a   
new flight of beauties into  the world1 
who have hitherto heard only of their   
own  charms1 and imagine that the heart 
feels no passion  but that of love4     
,they are soon surrounded by  admirers  
whom they credit1 because they tell them
  only what is heard with delight4      
,whoever gazes  upon them is a lover2   

and whoever forces a sigh1 is  pining in
 despair4    ,he surely is a useful     
monitor1 who inculcates to  these       
thoughtless strangers1 that the         
,,majority ,,are  ,,wicked2 who informs 
them1 that the train which  wealth and  
beauty draw after them1 is lured only   
by the scent of prey2 and that1 perhaps1
 among all  those who crowd about them  
with professions and  flatteries1 there 
is not one who does not hope for  some  
opportunity to devour or betray them1 to
 glut  himself by their destruction1 or 
to share their spoils  with a stronger  
savage4    ,virtue presented singly to  
the imagination or the  reason1 is so   
well recommended by its own graces1  and
 so strongly supported by arguments1    
that a  good man wonders how any can be 
bad2 and they  who are ignorant of the  
force of passion and interest1  who     
never observed the arts of seduction1   
the  contagion of example1 the gradual  
descent from one  crime to another1 or  
the insensible depravation  of the      

principles by loose conversation1       
naturally  expect to find integrity in  
every bosom1 and  veracity on every     
tongue4    ,it is1 indeed1 impossible   
not to hear from those  who have lived  
longer1 of wrongs and falsehoods1  of   
violence and circumvention2 but such    
narratives  are commonly regarded by the
 young1 the heady1  and the confident1  
as nothing more than the murmurs  of    
peevishness1 or the dreams of dotage2   
and1  notwithstanding all the documents 
of hoary wisdom1  we commonly plunge    
into the world fearless and  credulous1 
without any foresight of danger1 or     
apprehension of deceit4    ,i have      
remarked1 in a former paper1 that       
credulity  is the common failing of     
unexperienced virtue2 and  that he who  
is spontaneously suspicious1 may be     
justly charged with radical corruption2 
for1 if he has  not known the prevalence
 of dishonesty by information1  nor had 
time to observe it with his own eyes1   
whence can he take his measures of      

judgment but  from himself8    ,they who
 best deserve to escape the snares of   
artifice1 are most likely to be         
entangled4  ,he that  endeavours to live
 for the good of others1 must  always be
 exposed to the arts of them who live   
only  for themselves1 unless he is      
taught by timely  precepts the caution  
required in common transactions1  and   
shewn at a distance the pitfalls of     
treachery4    ,to youth1 therefore1 it  
should be carefully  inculcated1 that1  
to enter the road of life without       
caution  or reserve1 in expectation of  
general fidelity and  justice1 is to    
launch on the wide ocean without the    
instruments of steerage1 and to hope    
that every wind  will be prosperous1 and
 that every coast will afford  a        
harbour4    ,to enumerate the various   
motives to deceit and  injury1 would be 
to count all the desires that prevail   
among the sons of men2 since there is no
 ambition  however petty1 no wish       
however absurd1 that  by indulgence will

 not be enabled to overpower the        
influence of virtue4  ,many there are1  
who openly and  almost professedly      
regulate all their conduct by their     
love of money2 who have no other reason 
for action  or forbearance1 for         
compliance or refusal1 than that  they  
hope to gain more by one than by the    
other4  ,these are indeed the meanest   
and cruellest of human  beings1 a race  
with whom1 as with some pestiferous     
animals1 the whole creation seems to be 
at war2 but  who1 however detested or   
scorned1 long continue to  add heap to  
heap1 and when they have reduced one  to
 beggary1 are still permitted to fasten 
on another4    ,others1 yet less        
rationally wicked1 pass their lives  in 
mischief1 because they cannot bear the  
sight of  success1 and mark out every   
man for hatred1 whose  fame or fortune  
they believe increasing4    ,many who   
have not advanced to these degrees  of  
guilt are yet wholly unqualified for    
friendship1  and unable to maintain any 

constant or regular  course of kindness4
  ,happiness may be destroyed  not only 
by union with the man who is apparently 
the slave of interest1 but with whom a  
wild opinion  of the dignity of         
perseverance1 in whatever cause1        
disposes to pursue every injury with    
unwearied and  perpetual resentment2    
with him whose vanity inclines  him to  
consider every man as a rival in every  
pretension2 with him whose airy         
negligence puts  his friend's affairs or
 secrets in continual hazard1  and who  
thinks his forgetfulness of others      
excused  by his inattention to himself2 
and with him whose  inconstancy ranges  
without any settled rule of  choice     
through varieties of friendship1 and who
  adopts and dismisses favourites by the
 sudden  impulse of caprice4    ,thus   
numerous are the dangers to which the   
converse of mankind exposes us1 and     
which can be  avoided only by prudent   
distrust4  ,he therefore that1          
remembering this salutary maxim1 learns 

early to  withhold his fondness from    
fair appearances1 will  have reason to  
pay some honours to ,bias of ,priene1   
who enabled him to become wise without  
the cost  of experience4        ,no4    
#agf4 ,,saturday4 ,,november #bc1 #agea 
--------,naso suspendis adunco4         
,,hor4 ,lib4 i4 ,sat4 vi4 #e4       ,on 
me you turn the nose4--------    ,,there
 are many vexatious accidents and uneasy
  situations which raise little         
compassion for  the sufferer1 and which 
no man but those whom  they immediately 
distress can regard with  seriousness4  
,petty mischiefs1 that have no influence
 on  futurity1 nor extend their effects 
to the rest of life1  are always seen   
with a kind of malicious pleasure4  ,a  
mistake or embarrassment1 which for the 
present  moment fills the face with     
blushes1 and the mind  with confusion1  
will have no other effect upon those    
who observe it1 than that of convulsing 
them with  irresistible laughter4  ,some
 circumstances of misery  are so        

powerfully ridiculous1 that neither     
kindness  nor duty can withstand them2  
they bear down love1  interest1 and     
reverence1 and force the friend1 the    
dependent1 or the child1 to give way to 
instantaneous  motions of merriment4    
,among the principal of comick          
calamities1 may  be reckoned the pain   
which an author1 not yet  hardened into 
insensibility1 feels at the onset of a  
furious critick1 whose age1 rank1 or    
fortune1 gives him  confidence to speak 
without reserve2 who heaps  one         
objection upon another1 and obtrudes his
 remarks1  and enforces his corrections1
 without tenderness or awe4    ,the     
author1 full of the importance of his   
work1  and anxious for the justification
 of every syllable1  starts and kindles 
at the slightest attack2 the  critick1  
eager to establish his superiority1     
triumphing  in every discovery of       
failure1 and zealous to  impress the    
cogency of his arguments1 pursues him   
from line to line without cessation or  

remorse4  ,the  critick1 who hazards    
little1 proceeds with vehemence1        
impetuosity1 and fearlessness2 the      
author1 whose  quiet and fame1 and life 
and immortality1 are  involved in the   
controversy1 tries every art of         
subterfuge and defence2 maintains       
modestly what he  resolves never to     
yield1 and yields unwillingly what      
cannot be maintained4  ,the critick's   
purpose is to  conquer1 the author only 
hopes to escape2 the critick  therefore 
knits his brow1 and raises his voice1   
and rejoices whenever he perceives any  
tokens of  pain excited by the pressure 
of his assertions1 or the  point of his 
sarcasms4  ,the author1 whose endeavour 
is at once to mollify and elude his     
persecutor1  composes his features and  
softens his accent1 breaks the  force of
 assault by retreat1 and rather steps   
aside  than flies or advances4    ,as it
 very seldom happens that the rage of   
extemporary criticism inflicts fatal or 
lasting wounds1  ,i know not that the   

laws of benevolence entitle  this       
distress to much sympathy4  ,the        
diversion of  baiting an author has the 
sanction of all ages and  nations1 and  
is more lawful than the sport of teasing
  other animals1 because1 for the most  
part1 he  comes voluntarily to the      
stake1 furnished1 as he  imagines1 by   
the patron powers of literature1 with   
resistless weapons1 and impenetrable    
armour1 with  the mail of the boar of   
,erymanth1 and the paws of  the lion of 
,nemea4    ,but the works of genius are 
sometimes produced  by other motives    
than vanity2 and he whom necessity  or  
duty enforces to write1 is not always so
 well  satisfied with himself1 as not to
 be discouraged by  censorious          
impudence4  ,it may therefore be        
necessary  to consider1 how they whom   
publication lays open  to the insults of
 such as their obscurity secures        
against reprisals1 may extricate        
themselves from  unexpected encounters4 
,vida1 a man of considerable skill in   

the politicks  of literature1 directs   
his pupil wholly to abandon  his        
defence1 and even when he can           
irrefragably refute  all objections1 to 
suffer tamely the exultations  of his   
antagonist4    ,this rule may perhaps be
 just1 when advice is  asked1 and       
severity solicited1 because no man tells
  his opinion so freely as when he      
imagines it received  with implicit     
veneration2 and criticks ought never  to
 be consulted1 but while errours may yet
 be rectified  or insipidity suppressed4
  ,but when the book  has once been     
dismissed into the world1 and can be  no
 more retouched1 ,i know not whether a  
very different  conduct should not be   
prescribed1 and whether  firmness and   
spirit may not sometimes be of use to   
overpower arrogance and repel brutality4
  ,softness1  diffidence1 and           
moderation1 will often be mistaken  for 
imbecility and dejection2 they lure     
cowardice  to the attack by the hopes of
 easy victory1 and it  will soon be     

found that he whom every man thinks  he 
can conquer1 shall never be at peace4   
,the animadversions of criticks are     
commonly  such as may easily provoke the
 sedatest writer to  some quickness of  
resentment and asperity of reply4  ,a   
man1 who by long consideration has      
familiarized  a subject to his own mind1
 carefully surveyed the  series of his  
thoughts1 and planned all the parts of  
his composition into a regular          
dependance on each  other1 will often   
start at the sinistrous interpretations 
or absurd remarks of haste and          
ignorance1 and  wonder by what          
infatuation they have been led  away    
from the obvious sense1 and upon what   
peculiar  principles of judgment they   
decide against him4    ,the eye of the  
intellect1 like that of the body1 is    
not equally perfect in all1 nor equally 
adapted in  any to all objects2 the end 
of criticism is to supply  its defects2 
rules are the instruments of mental     
vision1 which may indeed assist our     

faculties when  properly used1 but      
produce confusion and obscurity  by     
unskilful application4    ,some seem    
always to read with the microscope  of  
criticism1 and employ their whole       
attention upon  minute elegance1 or     
faults scarcely visible to  common      
observation4  ,the dissonance of a      
syllable1 the  recurrence of the same   
sound1 the repetition of a  particle1   
the smallest deviation from propriety1  
the  slightest defect in construction or
 arrangement1  swell before their eyes  
into enormities4  ,as they  discern with
 great exactness1 they comprehend but  a
 narrow compass1 and know nothing of the
 justness  of the design1 the general   
spirit of the performance1  the artifice
 of connection1 or the harmony of the   
parts2 they never conceive how small a  
proportion  that which they are busy in 
contemplating bears to  the whole1 or   
how the petty inaccuracies1 with which  
they are offended1 are absorbed and lost
 in general  excellence4    ,others are 

furnished by criticism with a telescope4
  ,they see with great clearness        
whatever is too remote  to be discovered
 by the rest of mankind1 but are        
totally blind to all that lies          
immediately before them4  ,they discover
 in every passage some secret meaning1  
some remote allusion1 some artful       
allegory1  or some occult imitation1    
which no other reader  ever suspected2  
but they have no perception of the      
cogency of arguments1 the force of      
pathetick sentiments1  the various      
colours of diction1 or the flowery      
embellishments of fancy2 of all that    
engages the  attention of others they   
are totally insensible1 while  they pry 
into worlds of conjecture1 and amuse    
themselves  with phantoms in the clouds4
    ,in criticism1 as in every other    
art1 we fail  sometimes by our weakness1
 but more frequently by our  fault4  ,we
 are sometimes bewildered by ignorance1 
and sometimes by prejudice1 but we      
seldom deviate  far from the right1 but 

when we deliver ourselves  up to the    
direction of vanity4        ,no4 #agg4  
,,tuesday1 ,,november #bf1 #agea        
,turpe est difficiles habere nugas4     
,,mart4 ,lib4 ii4 ,ep4 lxxxvi4 #i4      
,those things which now seem frivolous  
and slight1   ,will be of serious       
consequence to you1   ,when they have   
made you once ridiculous4  ,,roscommon4 
,,to ,,the ,,rambler4    ,,sir1         
,,when ,i was1 at the usual time1 about 
to enter  upon the profession to which  
my friends had  destined me1 being      
summoned1 by the death of  my father1   
into the country1 ,i found myself master
  of an unexpected sum of money1 and of 
an estate1  which1 though not large1    
was1 in my opinion1  sufficient to      
support me in a condition far preferable
  to the fatigue1 dependance1 and       
uncertainty of any  gainful occupation4 
,i therefore resolved to devote  the    
rest of my life wholly to curiosity1 and
 without  any confinement of my         
excursions1 or termination of  my views1

 to wander over the boundless regions of
  general knowledge4    ,this scheme of 
life seemed pregnant with  inexhaustible
 variety1 and therefore ,i could not    
forbear  to congratulate myself upon the
 wisdom of my  choice4  ,i furnished a  
large room with all  conveniencies for  
study2 collected books of every kind2   
quitted every science at the first      
perception of disgust2  returned to it  
again as soon as my former ardour       
happened to revive2 and having no rival 
to  depress me by comparison1 nor any   
critick to alarm  me with objections1 ,i
 spent day after day in profound        
tranquillity1 with only so much         
complaisance  in my own improvements1 as
 served to excite and  animate my       
application4    ,thus ,i lived for some 
years with complete  acquiescence in my 
own plan of conduct1 rising early  to   
read1 and dividing the latter part of   
the day  between economy1 exercise1 and 
reflection4  ,but1 in  time1 ,i began to
 find my mind contracted and  stiffened 

by solitude4  ,my ease and elegance were
  sensibly impaired2 ,i was no longer   
able to accommodate  myself with        
readiness to the accidental current  of 
conversation2 my notions grew particular
  and paradoxical1 and my phraseology   
formal and  unfashionable2 ,i spoke1 on 
common occasions1 the  language of      
books4  ,my quickness of apprehension1  
and celerity of reply1 had entirely     
deserted me2  when ,i delivered my      
opinion1 or detailed my knowledge1  ,i  
was bewildered by an unseasonable       
interrogatory1  disconcerted by any     
slight opposition1 and  overwhelmed and 
lost in dejection1 when the smallest    
advantage was gained against me in      
dispute4  ,i  became decisive and       
dogmatical1 impatient of  contradiction1
 perpetually jealous of my character1   
insolent to such as acknowledged my     
superiority1 and  sullen and malignant  
to all who refused to receive  my       
dictates4  ,this ,i soon discovered to  
be one of those  intellectual diseases  

which a wise man should make haste  to  
cure4  ,i therefore resolved for a time 
to shut my  books1 and learn again the  
art of conversation2 to  defecate and   
clear my mind by brisker motions1 and   
stronger impulses2 and to unite myself  
once more  to the living generation4    
,for this purpose ,i hasted to ,london1 
and  entreated one of my academical     
acquaintances to  introduce me into some
 of the little societies of  literature 
which are formed in taverns and coffee- 
houses4  ,he was pleased with an        
opportunity of  shewing me to his       
friends1 and soon obtained me  admission
 among a select company of curious men1 
who met once a week to exhilarate their 
studies1  and compare their             
acquisitions4    ,the eldest and most   
venerable of this society was           
,hirsutus1 who1 after the first         
civilities of my  reception1 found means
 to introduce the mention of his        
favourite studies1 by a severe censure  
of those who  want the due regard for   

their native country4  ,he  informed me1
 that he had early withdrawn his        
attention from foreign trifles1 and that
 since he began  to addict his mind to  
serious and manly studies1 he  had very 
carefully amassed all the ,english books
  that were printed in the black        
character4  ,this search  he had pursued
 so diligently1 that he was able to     
shew the deficiencies of the best       
catalogues4  ,he had  long since        
completed his ,caxton1 had three sheets 
of ,treveris unknown to the antiquaries1
 and wanted  to a perfect ,pynson but   
two volumes1 of which one  was promised 
him as a legacy by its present          
possessor1  and the other he was        
resolved to buy1 at whatever  price1    
when ,quisquilius's library should be   
sold4  ,hirsutus had no other reason for
 the valuing or  slighting a book1 than 
that it was printed in the  ,roman or   
the ,gothic letter1 nor any ideas but   
such  as his favourite volumes had      
supplied2 when he was  serious he       

expatiated on the narratives of ,johan  
de ,trevisa1 and when he was merry1     
regaled us  with a quotation from the   
,shippe of ,foles4    ,while ,i was     
listening to this hoary student1        
,ferratus entered in a hurry1 and       
informed us with  the abruptness of     
ecstasy1 that his set of halfpence  was 
now complete2 he had just received in a 
handful  of change1 the piece that he   
had so long been  seeking1 and could now
 defy mankind to outgo his  collection  
of ,english copper4    ,chartophylax    
then observed how fatally human         
sagacity was sometimes baffled1 and how 
often the  most valuable discoveries are
 made by chance4  ,he  had employed     
himself and his emissaries seven years  
at great expense to perfect his series  
of ,gazettes1  but had long wanted a    
single paper1 which1 when  he despaired 
of obtaining it1 was sent him wrapped   
round a parcel of tobacco4              
,cantilenus turned all his thoughts upon
 old  ballads1 for he considered them as

 the genuine records  of the national   
taste4  ,he offered to shew me a copy   
of ,the ,children in the ,wood1 which he
 firmly  believed to be of the first    
edition1 and1 by the help  of which1 the
 text might be freed from several       
corruptions1 if this age of barbarity   
had any claim to  such favours from him4
    ,many were admitted into this       
society as inferior  members1 because   
they had collected old prints and       
neglected pamphlets1 or possessed some  
fragment  of antiquity1 as the seal of  
an ancient corporation1 the  charter of 
a religious house1 the genealogy of a   
family  extinct1 or a letter written in 
the reign of ,elizabeth4    ,every one  
of these virtuosos looked on all his    
associates as wretches of depraved taste
 and narrow  notions4  ,their           
conversation was1 therefore1 fretful    
and waspish1 their behaviour brutal1    
their merriment  bluntly sarcastick1 and
 their seriousness gloomy and           
suspicious4  ,they were totally ignorant

 of all that  passes1 or has lately     
passed1 in the world2 unable to  discuss
 any question of religious1 political1  
or military  knowledge2 equally         
strangers to science and politer        
learning1 and without any wish to       
improve their  minds1 or any other      
pleasure than that of displaying        
rarities1 of which they would not suffer
 others to  make the proper use4        
,hirsutus graciously informed me1 that  
the number  of their society was        
limited1 but that ,i might  sometimes   
attend as an auditor4  ,i was pleased to
  find myself in no danger of an honour1
 which ,i could  not have willingly     
accepted1 nor gracefully refused1  and  
left them without any intention of      
returning2  for ,i soon found that the  
suppression of those  habits with which 
,i was vitiated1 required association   
with men very different from this solemn
 race4    ,i am1 ,sir1 c4               
,,vivaculus4      ,it is natural to feel
 grief or indignation when  any thing   

necessary or useful is wantonly wasted1 
or negligently destroyed2 and therefore 
my  correspondent cannot be blamed for  
looking with  uneasiness on the waste of
 life4  ,leisure and curiosity  might   
soon make great advances in useful      
knowledge1  were they not diverted by   
minute emulation  and laborious trifles4
  ,it may1 however1 somewhat  mollify   
his anger to reflect1 that perhaps none 
of the  assembly which he describes1 was
 capable of any  nobler employment1 and 
that he who does his best1  however     
little1 is always to be distinguished   
from  him who does nothing4  ,whatever  
busies the mind  without corrupting it1 
has at least this use1 that it  rescues 
the day from idleness1 and he that is   
never  idle will not often be vicious4  
,no4 #agh4 ,,saturday1 ,,november #cj1  
#agea     ,pars sanitatis velle sanari  
fuit4  ,,seneca4     ,to yield to       
remedies is half the cure4              
,,pythagoras is reported to have        
required  from those whom he instructed 

in philosophy a  probationary silence of
 five years4  ,whether this  prohibition
 of speech extended to all the parts of 
this time1 as seems generally to be     
supposed1 or  was to be observed only in
 the school or in the  presence of their
 master1 as is more probable1 it was    
sufficient to discover the pupil's      
disposition2 to try  whether he was     
willing to pay the price of learning1   
or whether he was one of those whose    
ardour was  rather violent than lasting1
 and who expected to  grow wise on other
 terms than those of patience  and      
obedience4    ,many of the blessings    
universally desired1 are  very          
frequently wanted1 because most men1    
when  they should labour1 content       
themselves to complain1  and rather     
linger in a state in which they  cannot 
be at rest1 than improve their condition
 by  vigour and resolution4             
,providence has fixed the limits of     
human  enjoyment by immoveable          
boundaries1 and has set  different      

gratifications at such a distance from  
each other1  that no art or power can   
bring them together4  ,this  great law  
it is the business of every rational    
being  to understand1 that life may not 
pass away in an  attempt to make        
contradictions consistent1 to combine   
opposite qualities1 and to unite things 
which  the nature of their being must   
always keep asunder4    ,of two objects 
tempting at a distance on  contrary     
sides1 it is impossible to approach one 
but by  receding from the other2 by long
 deliberation and  dilatory projects1   
they may be both lost1 but can  never be
 both gained4  ,it is1 therefore1       
necessary to  compare them1 and1 when we
 have determined the  preference1 to    
withdraw our eyes and our thoughts  at  
once from that which reason directs us  
to reject4  ,this is more necessary1 if 
that which we are forsaking  has the    
power of delighting the senses1 or      
firing  the fancy4  ,he that once turns 
aside to the  allurements of unlawful   

pleasure1 can have no security  that he 
shall ever regain the paths of virtue4  
,the philosophick goddess of ,boethius1 
having  related the story of ,orpheus1  
who1 when he had  recovered his wife    
from the dominions of death1 lost  her  
again by looking back upon her in the   
confines  of light1 concludes with a    
very elegant and forcible  application4 
,whoever you are that endeavour to      
elevate your minds to the illuminations 
of ,heaven1  consider yourselves as     
represented in this fable2 for  he that 
is once so far overcome as to turn back 
his  eyes towards the infernal caverns1 
loses at the first  sight all that      
influence which attracted him on high3  
,vos haec fabula respicit1   ,quicunque 
in superum diem   ,mentem ducere        
quaeritis4   ,nam qui ,tartareum in     
specus   ,victus lumina flexerit1       
,quidquid praecipuum trahit1   ,perdit1 
dum videt inferos4      ,it may be      
observed1 in general1 that the future is
  purchased by the present4  ,it is not 

possible to secure  instant or permanent
 happiness but by the forbearance  of   
some immediate gratification4  ,this is 
so evidently true with regard to the    
whole of our  existence1 that all the   
precepts of theology have no  other     
tendency than to enforce a life of      
faith2 a life  regulated not by our     
senses but our belief2 a life in  which 
pleasures are to be refused for fear of 
invisible punishments1 and calamities   
sometimes to be  sought1 and always     
endured1 in hope of rewards  that shall 
be obtained in another state4    ,even  
if we take into our view only that      
particle  of our duration which is      
terminated by the grave1  it will be    
found that we cannot enjoy one part of  
life beyond the common limitations of   
pleasure1  but by anticipating some of  
the satisfaction which  should          
exhilarate the following years4  ,the   
heat of  youth may spread happiness into
 wild luxuriance1  but the radical      
vigour requisite to make it perennial   

is exhausted1 and all that can be hoped 
afterwards  is languor and sterility4   
,the reigning errour of mankind is1 that
 we are  not content with the conditions
 on which the goods  of life are        
granted4  ,no man is insensible of the  
value of knowledge1 the advantages of   
health1 or  the convenience of plenty1  
but every day shews us  those on whom   
the conviction is without effect4       
,knowledge is praised and desired by    
multitudes  whom her charms could never 
rouse from the couch  of sloth2 whom the
 faintest invitation of pleasure  draws 
away from their studies2 to whom any    
other  method of wearing out the day is 
more eligible than  the use of books1   
and who are more easily engaged  by any 
conversation1 than such as may rectify  
their  notions or enlarge their         
comprehension4    ,every man that has   
felt pain1 knows how little  all other  
comforts can gladden him to whom health 
is denied4  ,yet who is there does not  
sometimes  hazard it for the enjoyment  

of an hour8  ,all  assemblies of        
jollity1 all places of public           
entertainment1  exhibit examples of     
strength wasting in riot1 and  beauty   
withering in irregularity2 nor is it    
easy to  enter a house in which part of 
the family is not  groaning in          
repentance of past intemperance1 and    
part admitting disease by negligence1 or
 soliciting  it by luxury4    ,there is 
no pleasure which men of every age and  
sect have more generally agreed to      
mention with  contempt1 than the        
gratifications of the palate2 an        
entertainment so far removed from       
intellectual  happiness1 that scarcely  
the most shameless of the  sensual herd 
have dared to defend it3 yet even to    
this1 the lowest of our delights1 to    
this1 though  neither quick nor lasting1
 is health with all its  activity and   
sprightliness daily sacrificed2 and for 
this  are half the miseries endured     
which urge impatience  to call on death4
    ,the whole world is put in motion by

 the wish  for the riches and the dread 
of poverty4  ,who1 then1  would not     
imagine that such conduct as will       
inevitably  destroy what all are thus   
labouring to acquire1  must generally be
 avoided8  ,that he who spends  more    
than he receives1 must in time become   
indigent1 cannot be doubted2 but1 how   
evident soever  this consequence may    
appear1 the spendthrift moves  in the   
whirl of pleasure with too much rapidity
 to  keep it before his eyes1 and1 in   
the intoxication of  gaiety1 grows every
 day poorer without any such  sense of  
approaching ruin as is sufficient to    
wake  him into caution4    ,many        
complaints are made of the misery of    
life2  and indeed it must be confessed  
that we are subject  to calamities by   
which the good and bad1 the  diligent   
and slothful1 the vigilant and heedless1
 are  equally afflicted4  ,but surely1  
though some  indulgence may be allowed  
to groans extorted by  inevitable       
misery1 no man has a right to repine at 

evils  which1 against warning1 against  
experience1 he  deliberately and        
leisurely brings upon his own  head2 or 
to consider himself as debarred from    
happiness by such obstacles as          
resolution may break  or dexterity may  
put aside4    ,great numbers who quarrel
 with their condition1  have wanted not 
the power but the will to obtain a      
better state4  ,they have never         
contemplated the  difference between    
good and evil sufficiently to  quicken  
aversion1 or invigorate desire2 they    
have  indulged a drowsy thoughtlessness 
or giddy levity2  have committed the    
balance of choice to the  management of 
caprice2 and when they have long        
accustomed themselves to receive all    
that chance  offered them1 without      
examination1 lament at last  that they  
find themselves deceived4        ,no4   
#agi4 ,,tuesday1 ,,december #c1 #agea   
,perpetuo risu pulmonem agitare solebat4
  ,,juv4 ,sat4 x4 #cc4     ,democritus  
would feed his spleen1 and shake   ,his 

sides and shoulders till he felt them   
ake4  ,,dryden4      ,,every man1 says  
,tully1 has two characters2  one which  
he partakes with all mankind1 and  by   
which he is distinguished from brute    
animals2  another which discriminates   
him from the rest of  his own species1  
and impresses on him a manner and       
temper peculiar to himself2 this        
particular character1  if it be not     
repugnant to the laws of general        
humanity1 it is always his business to  
cultivate and  preserve4    ,every hour 
furnishes some confirmation of ,tully's 
precept4  ,it seldom happens1 that an   
assembly of  pleasure is so happily     
selected1 but that some one  finds      
admission1 with whom the rest are       
deservedly  offended2 and it will       
appear1 on a close inspection1  that    
scarce any man becomes eminently        
disagreeable1  but by a departure from  
his real character1 and  an attempt at  
something for which nature or  education
 have left him unqualified4             

,ignorance or dulness have indeed no    
power of  affording delight1 but they   
never give disgust except  when they    
assume the dignity of knowledge1 or ape 
the sprightliness of wit4  ,awkwardness 
and inelegance  have none of those      
attractions by which ease  and          
politeness take possession of the heart2
 but  ridicule and censure seldom rise  
against them1  unless they appear       
associated with that confidence  which  
belongs only to long acquaintance with  
the  modes of life1 and to consciousness
 of unfailing  propriety of behaviour4  
,deformity itself is regarded  with     
tenderness rather than aversion1 when it
 does  not attempt to deceive the sight 
by dress and  decoration1 and to seize  
upon fictitious claims the  prerogatives
 of beauty4    ,he that stands to       
contemplate the crowds that  fill the   
streets of a populous city1 will see    
many  passengers whose air and motion it
 will be difficult  to behold without   
contempt and laughter2 but if he        

examines what are the appearances that  
thus  powerfully excite his risibility1 
he will find among them  neither poverty
 nor disease1 nor any involuntary or    
painful defect4  ,the disposition to    
derision and insult  is awakened by the 
softness of foppery1 the swell  of      
insolence1 the liveliness of levity1 or 
the solemnity  of grandeur2 by the      
sprightly trip1 the stately stalk1  the 
formal strut1 the lofty mien2 by        
gestures  intended to catch the eye1 and
 by looks elaborately  formed as        
evidences of importance4    ,it has1 ,i 
think1 been sometimes urged in favour   
of affectation1 that it is only a       
mistake of the means  to a good end1 and
 that the intention with which it  is   
practised is always to please4  ,if all 
attempts to  innovate the constitutional
 or habitual character  have really     
proceeded from public spirit and love of
  others1 the world has hitherto been   
sufficiently  ungrateful1 since no      
return but scorn has yet been  made to  

the most difficult of all enterprises1 a
  contest with nature2 nor has any pity 
been shown to  the fatigues of labour   
which never succeeded1 and  the         
uneasiness of disguise by which nothing 
was  concealed4    ,it seems therefore  
to be determined by the  general        
suffrage of mankind1 that he who decks  
himself in adscititious qualities rather
 purposes to  command applause than     
impart pleasure3 and he is  therefore   
treated as a man who1 by an unreasonable
  ambition1 usurps the place in society 
to which he  has no right4  ,praise is  
seldom paid with willingness  even to   
incontestable merit1 and it can be no   
wonder  that he who calls for it without
 desert is repulsed  with universal     
indignation4    ,affectation naturally  
counterfeits those  excellencies which  
are placed at the greatest distance from
  possibility of attainment4  ,we are   
conscious of our  own defects1 and      
eagerly endeavour to supply them  by    
artificial excellence2 nor would such   

efforts be  wholly without excuse1 were 
they not often excited  by ornamental   
trifles1 which he1 that thus anxiously  
struggles for the reputation of         
possessing them1  would not have been   
known to want1 had not his  industry    
quickened observation4    ,gelasimus    
passed the first part of his life in    
academical privacy and rural retirement1
 without any  other conversation than   
that of scholars1 grave1  studious1 and 
abstracted as himself4  ,he cultivated  
the mathematical sciences with          
indefatigable diligence1  discovered    
many useful theorems1 discussed  with   
great accuracy the resistance of fluids1
 and1  though his priority was not      
generally acknowledged1  was the first  
who fully explained all the properties  
of the catenarian curve4    ,learning1  
when it rises to eminence1 will be      
observed in time1 whatever mists may    
happen to  surround it4  ,gelasimus1 in 
his forty-ninth year1 was  distinguished
 by those who have the rewards of       

knowledge in their hands1 and called out
 to display  his acquisitions for the   
honour of his country1 and  add dignity 
by his presence to philosophical        
assemblies4  ,as he did not suspect his 
unfitness for  common affairs1 he felt  
no reluctance to obey the  invitation1  
and what he did not feel he had yet too 
much honesty to feign4  ,he entered into
 the world  as a larger and more        
populous college1 where his             
performances would be more publick1 and 
his  renown further extended2 and       
imagined that he should  find his       
reputation universally prevalent1 and   
the  influence of learning every where  
the same4    ,his merit introduced him  
to splendid tables and  elegant         
acquaintance2 but he did not find       
himself  always qualified to join in the
 conversation4  ,he was  distressed by  
civilities1 which he knew not how to    
repay1 and entangled in many ceremonial 
perplexities1  from which his books and 
diagrams could not  extricate him4  ,he 

was sometimes unluckily  engaged in     
disputes with ladies1 with whom         
algebraick  axioms had no great weight1 
and saw many whose  favour and esteem he
 could not but desire1 to whom  he was  
very little recommended by his theories 
of  the tides1 or his approximations to 
the quadrature  of the circle4          
,gelasimus did not want penetration to  
discover1  that no charm was more       
generally irresistible than  that of    
easy facetiousness and flowing hilarity4
  ,he  saw that diversion was more      
frequently welcome  than improvement2   
that authority and seriousness  were    
rather feared than loved2 and that the  
grave  scholar was a kind of imperious  
ally1 hastily  dismissed when his       
assistance was no longer necessary4  ,he
 came to a sudden resolution of throwing
 off  those cumbrous ornaments of       
learning which  hindered his reception1 
and commenced a man of wit  and         
jocularity4  ,utterly unacquainted with 
every  topick of merriment1 ignorant of 

the modes and  follies1 the vices and   
virtues of mankind1 and  unfurnished    
with any ideas but such as ,pappas and  
,archimedes had given him1 he began to  
silence all inquiries  with a jest      
instead of a solution1 extended his face
  with a grin1 which he mistook for a   
smile1 and in the  place of scientifick 
discourse1 retailed in a new  language1 
formed between the college and the      
tavern1  the intelligence of the        
newspaper4    ,laughter1 he knew1 was a 
token of alacrity2 and1  therefore1     
whatever he said or heard1 he was       
careful  not to fail in that great duty 
of a wit4  ,if he asked  or told the    
hour of the day1 if he complained of    
heat or cold1 stirred the fire1 or      
filled a glass1  removed his chair1 or  
snuffed a candle1 he always found  some 
occasion to laugh4  ,the jest was indeed
 a secret  to all but himself2 but      
habitual confidence in his  own         
discernment hindered him from suspecting
 any  weakness or mistake4  ,he wondered

 that his wit was  so little understood1
 but expected that his audience  would  
comprehend it by degrees1 and persisted 
all  his life to shew by gross          
buffoonery1 how little the  strongest   
faculties can perform beyond the limits 
of  their own province4    ,no4 #ahj4   
,,saturday1 ,,december #g4 #agea     gr 
,tau8t' eidwoes isqi1 mathn d'          
',epicouron eason   gr ,hou8 tooe       
cenooen zhtei8n1 caioe tines ai monades4
  ,,automedon4     ,on life1 on morals1 
be thy thoughts employ'd2   ,leave to   
the schools their atoms and their void4 
,,it is somewhere related by ,le ,clerc1
 that a wealthy  trader of good         
understanding1 having the common        
ambition to breed his son a scholar1    
carried him to  an university1 resolving
 to use his own judgment  in the choice 
of a tutor4  ,he had been taught1 by    
whatever intelligence1 the nearest way  
to the heart  of an academick1 and at   
his arrival entertained all  who came   
about him with such profusion1 that the 

professors were lured by the smell of   
his table from  their books1 and flocked
 round him with all the  cringes of     
awkward complaisance4  ,this eagerness  
answered the merchant's purpose3 he     
glutted them  with delicacies1 and      
softened them with caresses1  till he   
prevailed upon one after another to open
 his  bosom1 and make a discovery of his
 competitions1  jealousies1 and         
resentments4  ,having thus learned  each
 man's character1 partly from himself1  
and partly  from his acquaintances1 he  
resolved to find some  other education  
for his son1 and went away convinced1   
that a scholastick life has no other    
tendency  than to vitiate the morals and
 contract the  understanding3 nor would 
he afterwards hear with patience  the   
praises of the ancient authors1 being   
persuaded  that scholars of all ages    
must have been the same1  and that      
,xenophon and ,cicero were professors of
  some former university1 and therefore 
mean and  selfish1 ignorant and servile1

 like those whom he had  lately visited 
and forsaken4    ,envy1 curiosity1 and a
 sense of the imperfection  of our      
present state1 incline us to estimate   
the  advantages which are in the        
possession of others above  their real  
value4  ,every one must have remarked1  
what powers and prerogatives the vulgar 
imagine  to be conferred by learning4   
,a man of science is  expected to excel 
the unlettered and unenlightened  even  
on occasions where literature is of no  
use1  and among weak minds1 loses part  
of his reverence1  by discovering no    
superiority in those parts  of life1 in 
which all are unavoidably equal2 as     
when a monarch makes a progress to the  
remoter  provinces1 the rustics are said
 sometimes to  wonder that they find him
 of the same size with  themselves4     
,these demands of prejudice and folly   
can never be  satisfied2 and therefore  
many of the imputations  which learning 
suffers from disappointed ignorance1    
are without reproach4  ,but there are   

some failures1  to which men of study   
are peculiarly exposed4  ,every         
condition has its disadvantages4  ,the  
circle of  knowledge is too wide for the
 most active and diligent  intellect1   
and while science is pursued1 other     
accomplishments are neglected2 as a     
small garrison must  leave one part of  
an extensive fortress naked1 when  an   
alarm calls them to another4  ,the      
learned1 however1 might generally       
support  their dignity with more        
success1 if they suffered not           
themselves to be misled by the desire of
 superfluous  attainments4  ,raphael1 in
 return to ,adam's inquiries  into the  
courses of the stars1 and the           
revolutions of  heaven1 counsels him to 
withdraw his mind from  idle            
speculations1 and employ his faculties  
upon  nearer and more interesting       
objects1 the survey  of his own life1   
the subjection of his passions1 the     
knowledge of duties which must daily be 
performed1  and the detection of dangers

 which must daily be  incurred4    ,this
 angelick counsel every man of letters  
should  always have before him4  ,he    
that devotes himself  to retired study  
naturally sinks from omission to        
forgetfulness of social duties2 he must 
be therefore  sometimes awakened and    
recalled to the general  condition of   
mankind4    ,i am far from any intention
 to limit curiosity1 or  confine the    
labours of learning to arts of immediate
  and necessary use4  ,it is only from  
the various  essays of experimental     
industry1 and the vague  excursions of  
minds sent out upon discovery1 that  any
 advancement of knowledge can be        
expected2  and1 though many must be     
disappointed in their  labours1 yet they
 are not to be charged with having      
spent their time in vain2 their example 
contributed  to inspire emulation1 and  
their miscarriages taught  others the   
way to success4    ,but the distant hope
 of being one day useful or  eminent1   
ought not to mislead us too far from    

that  study which is equally requisite  
to the great and  mean1 to the          
celebrated and obscure2 the art of      
moderating the desires1 of repressing   
the appetites1  and of conciliating or  
retaining the favour of  mankind4    ,no
 man can imagine the course of his own  
life1  or the conduct of the world      
around him1 unworthy  his attention2    
yet1 among the sons of learning1  many  
seem to have thought of every thing     
rather  than of themselves1 and to have 
observed every  thing but what passes   
before their eyes3 many who  toil       
through the intricacy of complicated    
systems1  are insuperably embarrassed   
with the least perplexity  in common    
affairs2 many who compare the  actions1 
and ascertain the characters of ancient 
heroes1 let their own days glide away   
without  examination1 and suffer vicious
 habits to encroach upon  their minds   
without resistance or detection1    ,the
 most frequent reproach of the          
scholastick race  is the want of        

fortitude1 not martial but philosophick4
  ,men bred in shades and silence1      
taught to immure  themselves at sunset1 
and accustomed to no  other weapon than 
syllogism1 may be allowed to  feel      
terrour at personal danger1 and to be   
disconcerted by tumult and alarm4  ,but 
why should he  whose life is spent in   
contemplation1 and whose  business is   
only to discover truth1 be unable to    
rectify the fallacies of imagination1 or
 contend  successfully against prejudice
 and passion8  ,to what  end has he read
 and meditated1 if he gives up his      
understanding to false appearances1 and 
suffers  himself to be enslaved by fear 
of evils to which  only folly or vanity 
can expose him1 or elated  by advantages
 to which1 as they are equally          
conferred upon the good and the bad1 no 
real dignity  is annexed4    ,such1     
however1 is the state of the world1 that
 the  most obsequious of the slaves of  
pride1 the most  rapturous of the gazers
 upon wealth1 the most  officious of the

 whisperers of greatness1 are collected 
from seminaries appropriated to the     
study of wisdom  and of virtue1 where it
 was intended that  appetite should     
learn to be content with little1 and    
that hope should aspire only to honours 
which no  human power can give or take  
awaya4       a ,such are a sort of      
sacrilegious ministers in the temple of 
intellect4  ,they profane its shew-bread
 to pamper the palate1 its  everlasting 
lamp they use to light unholy fires     
within their  breast1 and show them the 
way to the sensual chambers of sense    
and worldliness4  ,,irving4      ,the   
student1 when he comes forth into the   
world1  instead of congratulating       
himself upon his exemption  from the    
errours of those whose opinions have    
been formed by accident or custom1 and  
who live  without any certain principles
 of conduct1 is  commonly in haste to   
mingle with the multitude1 and  shew his
 sprightliness and ductility by an      
expeditious compliance with fashions or 

vices4  ,the first  smile of a man1     
whose fortune gives him power to  reward
 his dependants1 commonly enchants him  
beyond resistance2 the glare of         
equipage1 the sweets  of luxury1 the    
liberality of general promises1 the     
softness of habitual affability1 fill   
his imagination2  and he soon ceases to 
have any other wish than to  be well    
received1 or any measure of right and   
wrong  but the opinion of his patron4   
,a man flattered and obeyed1 learns to  
exact  grosser adulation1 and enjoin    
lower submission4  ,neither our virtues 
nor vices are all our own4  ,if  there  
were no cowardice1 there would be little
  insolence2 pride cannot rise to any   
great degree1 but  by the concurrence of
 blandishment or the sufferance  of     
tameness4  ,the wretch who would shrink 
and crouch before one that should dart  
his eyes  upon him with the spirit of   
natural equality1 becomes  capricious   
and tyrannical when he sees himself     
approached with a downcast look1 and    

hears the soft  address of awe and      
servility4  ,to those who are willing   
to purchase favour by cringes and       
compliance1  is to be imputed the       
haughtiness that leaves nothing  to be  
hoped by firmness and integrity4    ,if1
 instead of wandering after the meteors 
of  philosophy1 which fill the world    
with splendour for  a while1 and then   
sink and are forgotten1 the  candidates 
of learning fixed their eyes upon the   
permanent lustre of moral and religious 
truth1 they would  find a more certain  
direction to happiness4  ,a little      
plausibility of discourse1 and          
acquaintance with  unnecessary          
speculations1 is dearly purchased1 when 
it excludes those instructions which    
fortify the heart  with resolution1 and 
exalt the spirit to independence4       
,no4 #aha4 ,,tuesday1 ,,december #aj1   
#agea     ----,neu fluitem dubiae spe   
pendulus horae4  ,,hor4 ,lib4 i4 ,ep4   
xviii4 #aaj4     ,nor let me float in   
fortune's ponv'r1   ,dependent on the   

future hour4  ,,fraxcis4      ,,to ,,the
 ,,rambler4    ,,sir1    ,,as ,i have   
passed much of my life in disquiet and  
suspense1 and lost many opportunities of
 advantage  by a passion which ,i have  
reason to believe  prevalent in         
different degrees over a great part of  
mankind1 ,i cannot but think myself well
 qualified  to warn those who are yet   
uncaptivated1 of the  danger which they 
incur by placing themselves  within its 
influence4    ,i served an              
apprenticeship to a linen-draper1 with  
uncommon reputation for diligence and   
fidelity2  and at the age of            
three-and-twenty opened a shop  for     
myself with a large stock1 and such     
credit  among all the merchants1 who    
were acquainted with  my master1 that ,i
 could command whatever was  imported   
curious or valuable4  ,for five years ,i
  proceeded with success proportionate  
to close application  and untainted     
integrity2 was a daring bidder at every 
sale2 always paid my notes before they  

were due1  and advanced so fast in      
commercial reputation1 that  ,i was     
proverbially marked out as the model of 
young  traders1 and every one expected  
that a few years  would make me an      
alderman4    ,in this course of even    
prosperity1 ,i was one day  persuaded to
 buy a ticket in the lottery4  ,the sum 
was inconsiderable1 part was to be      
repaid though  fortune might fail to    
favour me1 and therefore my  established
 maxims of frugality did not restrain me
  from so trifling an experiment4  ,the 
ticket lay  almost forgotten till the   
time at which every man's  fate was to  
be determined2 nor did the affair even  
then seem of any importance1 till ,i    
discovered by  the publick papers that  
the numbers next to mine  had conferred 
the great prize4    ,my heart leaped at 
the thought of such an  approach to     
sudden riches1 which ,i considered      
myself1  however contrarily to the laws 
of computation1 as  having missed by a  
single chance2 and ,i could not  forbear

 to revolve the consequences which such 
as  bounteous allotment would have      
produced1 if it had  happened to me4    
,this dream of felicity1 by degrees1    
took possession of my imagination4  ,the
 great delight  of my solitary hours was
 to purchase an estate1  and form       
plantations with money which once might 
have been mine1 and ,i never met my     
friends but ,i  spoiled all their       
merriment by perpetual complaints  of my
 ill luck4    ,at length another lottery
 was opened1 and ,i had  now so heated  
my imagination with the prospect  of a  
prize1 that ,i should have pressed among
 the  first purchasers1 had not my      
ardour been withheld  by deliberation   
upon the probability of success from    
one ticket rather than another4  ,i     
hesitated long  between even and odd2   
considered the square and  cubick       
numbers through the lottery2 examined   
all  those to which good luck had been  
hitherto annexed2  and at last fixed    
upon one1 which1 by some  secret        

relation to the events of my life1 ,i   
thought  predestined to make me happy4  
,delay in great  affairs is often       
mischievous2 the ticket was sold1  and  
its possessor could not be found4    ,i 
returned to my conjectures1 and after   
many arts  of prognostication1 fixed    
upon another chance1 but  with less     
confidence4  ,never did captive1 heir1  
or  lover1 feel so much vexation from   
the slow pace of  time1 as ,i suffered  
between the purchase of my  ticket and  
the distribution of the prizes4  ,i     
solaced  my uneasiness as well as ,i    
could1 by frequent  contemplation of    
approaching happiness2 when the sun     
rose ,i knew it would set1 and          
congratulated myself  at night that ,i  
was so much nearer to my wishes4  ,at   
last the day came1 my ticket appeared1  
and  rewarded all my care and sagacity  
with a despicable  prize of fifty       
pounds4    ,my friends1 who honestly    
rejoiced upon my  success1 were very    
coldly received2 ,i hid myself a        

fortnight in the country1 that my       
chagrin might  fume away without        
observation1 and then returning  to my  
shop1 began to listen after another     
lottery4    ,with the news of a lottery 
,i was soon gratified1  and having now  
found the vanity of conjecture1  and    
inefficacy of computation1 ,i resolved  
to take  the prize by violence1 and     
therefore bought forty  tickets1 not    
omitting1 however1 to divide them       
between the even and odd numbers1 that  
,i might not  miss the lucky class4     
,many conclusions did ,i form1  and many
 experiments did ,i try1 to determine   
from  which of those tickets ,i might   
most reasonably  expect riches4  ,at    
last1 being unable to satisfy myself  by
 any modes of reasoning1 ,i wrote the   
numbers  upon dice1 and allotted five   
hours every day to the  amusement of    
throwing them in a garret2 and1         
examining the event by an exact         
register1 found1 on  the evening before 
the lottery was drawn1 that one  of my  

numbers had been turned up five times   
more  than any of the rest in three     
hundred and thirty  thousand throws4    
,this experiment was fallacious2 the    
first day  presented the hopeful ticket1
 a detestable blank4  ,the  rest came   
out with different fortune1 and in      
conclusion  ,i lost thirty pounds by    
this great adventure4    ,i had now     
wholly changed the cast of my behaviour 
and the conduct of my life4  ,the shop  
was for  the most part abandoned to my  
servants1 and if ,i  entered it1 my     
thoughts were so engrossed by my        
tickets1 that ,i scarcely heard or      
answered a  question1 but considered    
every customer as an intruder  upon my  
meditations1 whom ,i was in haste to    
despatch4  ,i mistook the price of my   
goods1  committed blunders in my bills1 
forgot to file my  receipts1 and        
neglected to regulate my books4  ,my    
acquaintances by degrees began to fall  
away2 but ,i  perceived the decline of  
my business with little  emotion1       

because whatever deficience there might 
be in my gains1 ,i expected the next    
lottery to  supply4    ,miscarriage     
naturally produces diffidence2 ,i  began
 now to seek assistance against ill     
luck1 by an  alliance with those that   
had been more successful4  ,i inquired  
diligently at what office any prize had 
been sold1 that ,i might purchase of a  
propitious  vender2 solicited those who 
had been fortunate in  former lotteries1
 to partake with me in my new  tickets2 
and whenever ,i met with one that had in
  any event of his life been eminently  
prosperous1 ,i  invited him to take a   
larger share4  ,i had1 by this rule  of 
conduct1 so diffused my interest1 that  
,i had a  fourth part of fifteen        
tickets1 an eighth of forty1 and  a     
sixteenth of ninety4    ,i waited for   
the decision of my fate with my  former 
palpitations1 and looked upon the       
business  of my trade with the usual    
neglect4  ,the wheel at  last was       
turned1 and its revolutions brought me a

  long succession of sorrows and        
disappointments4  ,i  indeed often      
partook of a small prize1 and the loss  
of one day was generally balanced by the
 gain of  the next2 but my desires yet  
remained unsatisfied1  and when one of  
my chances had failed1 all  my          
expectation was suspended on those which
  remained yet undetermined4  ,at last a
 prize of five  thousand pounds was     
proclaimed2 ,i caught fire at  the cry1 
and inquiring the number1 found it to be
  one of my own tickets1 which ,i had   
divided among  those on whose luck ,i   
depended1 and of which ,i  had retained 
only a sixteenth part4    ,you will     
easily judge with what detestation of   
himself1 a man thus intent upon gain    
reflected that  he had sold a prize     
which was once in his possession4  ,it  
was to no purpose1 that ,i represented  
to  my mind the impossibility of        
recalling the past1 or  the folly of    
condemning an act1 which only its       
event1 an event which no human          

intelligence could  foresee1 proved to  
be wrong4  ,the prize which1  though put
 in my hands1 had been suffered to slip 
from me1 filled me with anguish1 and    
knowing that  complaint would only      
expose me to ridicule1 ,i gave  myself  
up silently to grief1 and lost by       
degrees my  appetite and my rest4    ,my
 indisposition soon became visible2 ,i  
was  visited by my friends1 among them  
by ,eumathes1 a  clergyman1 whose piety 
and learning gave him such  an ascendant
 over me1 that ,i could not refuse to   
open my heart4  ,there are1 said he1 few
 minds sufficiently  firm to be trusted 
in the hands of chance4  ,whoever finds 
himself inclined to anticipate futurity1
  and exalt possibility to certainty1   
should avoid  every kind of casual      
adventure1 since his grief must  be     
always proportionate to his hope4  ,you 
have long  wasted that time1 which1 by a
 proper application1  would have        
certainly1 though moderately1 increased 
your fortune1 in a laborious and anxious

 pursuit of  a species of gain1 which no
 labour or anxiety1 no art  or          
expedient1 can secure or promote4  ,you 
are now  fretting away your life in     
repentance of an act1  against which    
repentance can give no caution1 but  to 
avoid the occasion of committing it4    
,rouse from  this lazy dream of         
fortuitous riches1 which1 if  obtained1 
you could scarcely have enjoyed1 because
  they could confer no consciousness of 
desert2 return  to rational and manly   
industry1 and consider the  mere gift of
 luck as below the care of a wise man4  
,no4 #ahb4 ,,saturday1 ,,december #ad1  
#agea     ----,dives qui fieri vult1    
,et cito vult fieri4----     ,,juv4     
,sat4 xiv4 #agf4     ,the lust of wealth
 can never bear delay4    ,,it has been 
observed in a late paper1 that we are   
unreasonably desirous to separate the   
goods of  life from those evils which   
,providence has  connected with them1   
and to catch advantages without  paying 
the price at which they are offered us4 

,every  man wishes to be rich1 but very 
few have the powers  necessary to raise 
a sudden fortune1 either by  new        
discoveries1 or by superiority of skill1
 in any  necessary employment2 and among
 lower  understandings1 many want the   
firmness and industry  requisite to     
regular gain and gradual acquisitions4  
,from the hope of enjoying affluence by 
methods  more compendious than those of 
labour1 and more  generally practicable 
than those of genius1 proceeds  the     
common inclination to experiment and    
hazard1  and that willingness to snatch 
all opportunities of  growing rich by   
chance1 which1 when it has once  taken  
possession of the mind1 is seldom driven
 out  either by time or argument1 but   
continues to waste  life in perpetual   
delusion1 and generally ends in         
wretchedness and want4    ,the folly of 
untimely exultation and visionary       
prosperity1 is by no means peculiar to  
the purchasers  of tickets2 there are   
multitudes whose life is  nothing but a 

continual lottery2 who are always       
within a few months of plenty and       
happiness1 and  how often soever they   
are mocked with blanks1  expect a prize 
from the next adventure4    ,among the  
most resolute and ardent of the         
votaries of chance1 may be numbered the 
mortals whose  hope is to raise         
themselves by a wealthy match2  who lay 
out all their industry on the           
assiduities of  courtship1 and sleep and
 wake with no other ideas  than of      
treats1 compliments1 guardians and      
rivals4    ,one of the most             
indefatigable of this class1 is my  old 
friend ,leviculus1 whom ,i have never   
known for  thirty years without some    
matrimonial project of  advantage4      
,leviculus was bred under a merchant1   
and by the graces of his person1 the    
sprightliness of  his prattle1 and the  
neatness of his dress1 so much          
enamoured his master's second daughter1 
a girl of  sixteen1 that she declared   
her resolution to have no  other        

husband4  ,her father1 after having     
chidden her  for undutifulness1         
consented to the match1 not much  to the
 satisfaction of ,leviculus1 who was    
sufficiently  elated with his conquest  
to think himself entitled  to a larger  
fortune4  ,he was1 however1 soon rid of 
his perplexity1 for his mistress died   
before their  marriage4    ,he was now  
so well satisfied with his own          
accomplishments1 that he determined to  
commence  fortune-hunter2 and when his  
apprenticeship  expired1 instead of     
beginning1 as was expected1 to  walk the
 ,exchange with a face of importance1 or
  associating himself with those who    
were most  eminent for their knowledge  
of the stocks1 he at once  threw off the
 solemnity of the counting-house1       
equipped himself with a modish wig1     
listened to  wits in coffee-houses1     
passed his evenings behind the  scenes  
in the theatres1 learned the names of   
beauties  of quality1 hummed the last   
stanzas of fashionable  songs1 talked   

with familiarity of high play1 boasted  
of his achievements upon drawers and    
coachmen1  was often brought to his     
lodgings at midnight in a  chair1 told  
with negligence and jocularity of       
bilking  a tailor1 and now and then let 
fly a shrewd jest at a  sober citizen4  
,thus furnished with irresistible       
artillery1 he turned  his batteries upon
 the female world1 and1 in the first    
warmth of self-approbation1 proposed no 
less than  the possession of riches and 
beauty united4  ,he  therefore paid his 
civilities to ,flavilla1 the only       
daughter of a wealthy shopkeeper1 who   
not being  accustomed to amorous        
blandishments1 or respectful  addresses1
 was delighted with the novelty of love1
  and easily suffered him to conduct her
 to the play1  and to meet her where she
 visited4  ,leviculus did  not doubt but
 her father1 however offended by a      
clandestine marriage1 would soon be     
reconciled by  the tears of his         
daughter1 and the merit of his son-     

in-law1 and was in haste to conclude the
 affair4  ,but  the lady liked better to
 be courted than married1  and kept him 
three years in uncertainty and          
attendance4  ,at last she fell in love  
with a young ensign  at a ball1 and     
having danced with him all night1       
married him in the morning4             
,leviculus1 to avoid the ridicule of his
 companions1  took a journey to a small 
estate in the country1  where1 after his
 usual inquiries concerning the  nymphs 
in the neighbourhood1 he found it proper
  to fall in love with ,altilia1 a      
maiden lady1 twenty  years older than   
himself1 for whose favour fifteen       
nephews and nieces were in perpetual    
contention4  ,they hovered round her    
with such jealous officiousness1  as    
scarcely left a moment vacant for a     
lover4  ,leviculus1 nevertheless1       
discovered his passion in a  letter1 and
 ,altilia could not withstand the       
pleasure  of hearing vows and sighs1 and
 flatteries and  protestations4  ,she   

admitted his visits1 enjoyed for five   
years the happiness of keeping all her  
expectants in  perpetual alarms1 and    
amused herself with the various         
stratagems which were practised to      
disengage  her affections4  ,sometimes  
she was advised with  great earnestness 
to travel for her health1 and  sometimes
 entreated to keep her brother's house4 
,many  stories were spread to the       
disadvantage of ,leviculus1  by which   
she commonly seemed affected for a      
time1 but took care soon afterwards to  
express her  conviction of their        
falsehood4  ,but being at last  satiated
 with this ludicrous tyranny1 she told  
her  lover1 when he pressed for the     
reward of his services1  that she was   
very sensible of his merit1 but was     
resolved not to impoverish an ancient   
family4    ,he then returned to the     
town1 and soon after his  arrival1      
became acquainted with ,latronia1 a lady
  distinguished by the elegance of her  
equipage1 and  the regularity of her    

conduct4  ,her wealth was  evident in   
her magnificence1 and her prudence in   
her  economy1 and therefore ,leviculus1 
who had scarcely  confidence to solicit 
her favour1 readily acquitted  fortune  
of her former debts1 when he found      
himself  distinguished by her with such 
marks of preference  as a woman of      
modesty is allowed to give4  ,he now    
grew bolder1 and ventured to breathe out
 his  impatience before her4  ,she heard
 him without  resentment1 in time       
permitted him to hope for happiness1    
and at last fixed the nuptial day1      
without any  distrustful reserve of     
pin-money1 or sordid stipulations  for  
jointure1 and settlements4    ,leviculus
 was triumphing on the eve of marriage1 
when he heard on the stairs the voice of
 ,latronia's  maid1 whom frequent bribes
 had secured in his  service4  ,she soon
 burst into his room1 and told him  that
 she could not suffer him to be longer  
deceived2  that her mistress was now    
spending the last payment  of her       

fortune1 and was only supported in her  
expense by the credit of his estate4    
,leviculus  shuddered to see himself so 
near a precipice1 and found  that he was
 indebted for his escape to the         
resentment  of the maid1 who having     
assisted ,latronia to  gain the         
conquest1 quarrelled with her at last   
about  the plunder4    ,leviculus was   
now hopeless and disconsolate1 till  one
 ,sunday he saw a lady in the ,mall1    
whom her  dress declared a widow1 and   
whom1 by the jolting  prance of her     
gait1 and the broad resplendence of  her
 countenance1 he guessed to have lately 
buried  some prosperous citizen4  ,he   
followed her home1 and  found her to be 
no less than the relict of ,prune the   
grocer1 who1 having no children1 had    
bequeathed to  her all his debts and    
dues1 and his estates real and          
personal4  ,no formality was necessary  
in addressing  madam ,prune1 and        
therefore ,leviculus went next  morning 
without an introductor4  ,his           

declaration  was received with a loud   
laugh2 she then collected  her          
countenance1 wondered at his impudence1 
asked  if he knew to whom he was        
talking1 then shewed  him the door1 and 
again laughed to find him  confused4    
,leviculus discovered that this         
coarseness was  nothing more than the   
coquetry of ,cornhill1 and  next day    
returned to the attack4  ,he soon grew  
familiar to her dialect1 and in a few   
weeks heard1  without any emotion1 hints
 of gay clothes with  empty pockets2    
concurred in many sage remarks  on the  
regard due to people of property1 and   
agreed  with her in detestation of the  
ladies at the other  end of the town1   
who pinched their bellies to buy  fine  
laces1 and then pretended to laugh at   
the city4    ,he sometimes presumed to  
mention marriage2  but was always       
answered with a slap1 a hoot1 and a     
flounce4  ,at last he began to press her
 closer1 and  thought himself more      
favourably received2 but going  one     

morning1 with a resolution to trifle no 
longer1 he found her gone to church with
 a young  journeyman from the           
neighbouring shop1 of whom  she had     
become enamoured at her window4    ,in  
these1 and a thousand intermediate      
adventures1 has ,leviculus spent his    
time1 till he is now  grown grey with   
age1 fatigue1 and disappointment4  ,he  
begins at last to find that success is  
not to be  expected1 and being unfit for
 any employment that  might improve his 
fortune1 and unfurnished with  any arts 
that might amuse his leisure1 is        
condemned  to wear out a tasteless life 
in narratives which few  will hear1 and 
complaints which none will pity4        
,no4 #ahc4 ,,tuesday1 ,,december #ag1   
#agea     ,nulla fides regni sociis1    
omnisque potestas   ,impatiens consortis
 erit4   ,,lucan1 ,lib4 i4 #ib4     ,no 
faith of partnership dominion owns2     
,still discord hovers o'er divided      
thrones4    ,,the hostility perpetually 
exercised between  one man and another1 

is caused by the desire  of many for    
that which only few can possess4  ,every
 man would be rich1 powerful1 and       
famous2  yet fame1 power1 and riches are
 only the names of  relative conditions1
 which imply the obscurity1  dependance1
 and poverty of greater numbers4        
,this universal and incessant           
competition  produces injury and malice 
by two motives1 interest  and envy2 the 
prospect of adding to our possessions   
what we can take from others1 and the   
hope of  alleviating the sense of our   
disparity by lessening  others1 though  
we gain nothing to ourselves4    ,of    
these two malignant and destructive     
powers1  it seems probable at the first 
view1 that interest has  the strongest  
and most extensive influence4  ,it is   
easy to conceive that opportunities to  
seize what  has been long wanted1 may   
excite desires almost  irresistible2 but
 surely the same eagerness cannot  be   
kindled by an accidental power of       
destroying  that which gives happiness  

to another4  ,it must be  more natural  
to rob for gain1 than to ravage only    
for mischief4    ,yet ,i am inclined to 
believe1 that the great law  of mutual  
benevolence is oftener violated by envy 
than by interest1 and that most of the  
misery which  the defamation of         
blameless actions1 or the obstruction   
of honest endeavours1 brings upon the   
world1  is inflicted by men that propose
 no advantage to  themselves but the    
satisfaction of poisoning the  banquet  
which they cannot taste1 and blasting   
the  harvest which they have no right to
 reap4    ,interest can diffuse itself  
but to a narrow  compass4  ,the number  
is never large of those who can  hope to
 fill the posts of degraded power1 catch
 the  fragments of shattered fortune1 or
 succeed to the  honours of depreciated 
beauty4  ,but the empire of  envy has no
 limits1 as it requires to its influence
  very little help from external        
circumstances4  ,envy  may always be    
produced by idleness and pride1 and  in 

what place will they not be found8      
,interest requires some qualities not   
universally  bestowed4  ,the ruin of    
another will produce no  profit to him  
who has not discernment to mark his     
advantage1 courage to seize1 and        
activity to pursue  it2 but the cold    
malignity of envy may be exerted  in a  
torpid and quiescent state1 amidst the  
gloom  of stupidity1 in the coverts of  
cowardice4  ,he that  falls by the      
attacks of interest1 is torn by hungry  
tigers2 he may discover and resist his  
enemies4  ,he  that perishes in the     
ambushes of envy1 is destroyed  by      
unknown and invisible assailants1 and   
dies like  a man suffocated by a        
poisonous vapour1 without  knowledge of 
his danger1 or possibility of  contest4 
,interest is seldom pursued but at some 
hazard4  ,he that hopes to gain much1   
has commonly something  to lose1 and    
when he ventures to attack superiority1 
if he fails to conquer1 is irrecoverably
  crushed4  ,but envy may act without   

expense or  danger4  ,to spread         
suspicion1 to invent calumnies1  to     
propagate scandal1 requires neither     
labour nor  courage4  ,it is easy for   
the author of a lie1 however  malignant1
 to escape detection1 and infamy needs  
very little industry to assist its      
circulation4    ,envy is almost the only
 vice which is practicable  at all      
times1 and in every place2 the only     
passion  which can never lie quiet for  
want of irritation3 its  effects        
therefore are every where discoverable1 
and  its attempts always to be dreaded4 
,it is impossible to mention a name     
which any  advantageous distinction has 
made eminent1 but  some latent animosity
 will burst out4  ,the wealthy  trader1 
however he may abstract himself from    
publick affairs1 will never want those  
who hint1 with  ,shylock1 that ships are
 but boards4  ,the beauty1  adorned only
 with the unambitious graces of         
innocence  and modesty1 provokes1       
whenever she appears1  a thousand       

murmurs of detraction4  ,the genius1    
even when he endeavours only to         
entertain or  instruct1 yet suffers     
persecution from innumerable  criticks1 
whose acrimony is excited merely by the 
pain of seeing others pleased1 and of   
hearing  applauses which another enjoys4
    ,the frequency of envy makes it so  
familiar1 that  it escapes our notice2  
nor do we often reflect upon  its       
turpitude or malignity1 till we happen  
to feel its  influence4  ,when he that  
has given no provocation  to malice1 but
 by attempting to excel1 finds himself  
pursued by multitudes whom he never saw1
 with  all the implacability of personal
 resentment2 when  he perceives clamour 
and malice let loose upon him  as a     
publick enemy1 and incited by every     
stratagem  of defamation2 when he hears 
the misfortunes of  his family1 or the  
follies of his youth1 exposed to  the   
world2 and every failure of conduct1 or 
defect  of nature1 aggravated and       
ridiculed2 he then learns  to abhor     

those artifices at which he only laughed
  before1 and discovers how much the    
happiness of  life would be advanced by 
the eradication of envy  from the human 
heart4    ,envy is1 indeed1 a stubborn  
weed of the mind1  and seldom yields to 
the culture of philosophy4  ,there  are1
 however1 considerations1 which1 if     
carefully  implanted and diligently     
propagated1 might in time  overpower and
 repress it1 since no one can nurse it  
for the sake of pleasure1 as its effects
 are only shame1  anguish1 and          
perturbation4    ,it is above all other 
vices inconsistent with the  character  
of a social being1 because it sacrifices
 truth  and kindness to very weak       
temptations4  ,he that  plunders a      
wealthy neighbour gains as much as he   
takes away1 and may improve his own     
condition in  the same proportion as he 
impairs another's2 but he  that blasts a
 flourishing reputation1 must be content
  with a small dividend of additional   
fame1 so small  as can afford very      

little consolation to balance the  guilt
 by which it is obtained4    ,i have    
hitherto avoided that dangerous and     
empirical morality1 which cures one vice
 by means of  another4  ,but envy is so 
base and detestable1 so vile  in its    
original1 and so pernicious in its      
effects1 that  the predominance of      
almost any other quality is to  be      
preferred4  ,it is one of those lawless 
enemies of  society1 against which      
poisoned arrows may honestly  be used4  
,let it therefore be constantly         
remembered1  that whoever envies        
another1 confesses his superiority1  and
 let those be reformed by their pride   
who  have lost their virtue4    ,it is  
no slight aggravation of the injuries   
which  envy incites1 that they are      
committed against those  who have given 
no intentional provocation2 and that    
the sufferer is often marked out for    
ruin1 not because  he has failed in any 
duty1 but because he has dared  to do   
more than was required4    ,almost every

 other crime is practised by the help   
of some quality which might have        
produced esteem  or love1 if it had been
 well employed2 but envy is  mere       
unmixed and genuine evil2 it pursues a  
hateful  end by despicable means1 and   
desires not so much  its own happiness  
as another's misery4  ,to avoid         
depravity like this1 it is not necessary
 that any one  should aspire to heroism 
or sanctity1 but only that  he should   
resolve not to quit the rank which      
nature  assigns him1 and wish to        
maintain the dignity of a  human being4 
,no4 #ahd4 ,,saturday1 ,,december #ba1  
#agea     ,permittes ipsis expendere    
numinibus1 quid   ,conveniat nobis1     
rebusque sit utile nostris4    ,,juv4   
,sat4 x4 #cdg4       ,intrust thy       
fortune to the pow'rs above2   ,leave   
them to manage for thee1 and to grant   
,what their unerring wisdom sees thee   
want4  ,,dryden4    ,,as every scheme of
 life1 so every form of writing1  has   
its advantages and inconveniences1      

though  not mingled in the same         
proportions4  ,the writer of  essays    
escapes many embarrassments to which a  
large work would have exposed him2 he   
seldom  harasses his reason with long   
trains of consequences1  dims his eyes  
with the perusal of antiquated volumes1 
or burthens his memory with great       
accumulations  of preparatory knowledge4
  ,a careless glance upon  a favourite  
author1 or transient survey of the      
varieties of life1 is sufficient to     
supply the first hint  or seminal idea1 
which1 enlarged by the gradual          
accretion of matter stored in the mind1 
is by the  warmth of fancy easily       
expanded into flowers1 and  sometimes   
ripened into fruit4    ,the most        
frequent difficulty by which the authors
  of these petty compositions are       
distressed1 arises  from the perpetual  
demand of novelty and change4  ,the     
compiler of a system of science lays his
 invention  at rest1 and employs only   
his judgment1 the  faculty exerted with 

least fatigue4  ,even the relator  of   
feigned adventures1 when once the       
principal  characters are established1  
and the great events  regularly         
connected1 finds incidents and episodes 
crowding upon his mind2 every change    
opens new  views1 and the latter part of
 the story grows  without labour out of 
the former4  ,but he that attempts  to  
entertain his reader with unconnected   
pieces1 finds  the irksomeness of his   
task rather increased than  lessened by 
every production4  ,the day calls afresh
  upon him for a new topick1 and he is  
again obliged  to choose1 without any   
principle to regulate his  choice4      
,it is indeed true1 that there is seldom
 any  necessity of looking far1 or      
inquiring long for a proper  subject4   
,every diversity of art or nature1 every
  publick blessing or calamity1 every   
domestick pain or  gratification1 every 
sally of caprice1 blunder of  absurdity1
 or stratagem of affectation1 may supply
  matter to him whose only rule is to   

avoid uniformity4  ,but it often        
happens1 that the judgment is distracted
  with boundless multiplicity1 the      
imagination  ranges from one design to  
another1 and the hours  pass            
imperceptibly away1 till the composition
 can  be no longer delayed1 and         
necessity enforces the use  of those    
thoughts which then happen to be at     
hand4  ,the mind1 rejoicing at          
deliverance on any terms from           
perplexity and suspense1 applies herself
 vigorously  to the work before her1    
collects embellishments and             
illustrations1 and sometimes finishes1  
with great  elegance and happiness1 what
 in a state of ease and  leisure she    
never had begun4    ,it is not commonly 
observed1 how much1 even of  actions1   
considered as particularly subject to   
choice1  is to be attributed to         
accident1 or some cause out of  our own 
power1 by whatever name it be           
distinguished4  ,to close tedious       
deliberations with hasty  resolves1 and 

after long consultations with reason to 
refer the question to caprice1 is by no 
means peculiar  to the essayist4  ,let  
him that peruses this paper  review the 
series of his life1 and inquire how he  
was  placed in his present condition4   
,he will find1 that  of the good or ill 
which he has experienced1 a great  part 
came unexpected1 without any visible    
gradations  of approach2 that every     
event has been influenced  by causes    
acting without his intervention2  and   
that whenever he pretended to the       
prerogative  of foresight1 he was       
mortified with new conviction  of the   
shortness of his views4    ,the busy1   
the ambitious1 the inconstant1 and the  
adventurous1 may be said to throw       
themselves by  design into the arms of  
fortune1 and voluntarily to  quit the   
power of governing themselves2 they     
engage  in a course of life in which    
little can be ascertained  by previous  
measures2 nor is it any wonder that     
their time is passed between elation and

 despondency1  hope and disappointment4 
,some there are who appear to walk the  
road of  life with more circumspection1 
and make no step  till they think       
themselves secure from the hazard of a  
precipice1 when neither pleasure nor    
profit can tempt  them from the beaten  
path2 who refuse to climb  lest they    
should fall1 or to run lest they should 
stumble1 and move slowly forward without
 any  compliance with those passions by 
which the heady and  vehement are       
seduced and betrayed4    ,yet even the  
timorous prudence of this judicious     
class is far from exempting them from   
the dominion  of chance1 a subtle and   
insidious power1 who  will intrude upon 
privacy and embarrass caution4  ,no     
course of life is so prescribed and     
limited1 but  that many actions must    
result from arbitrary  election4  ,every
 one must form the general plan  of his 
conduct by his own reflections2 he must 
resolve whether he will endeavour at    
riches or at  content2 whether he will  

exercise private or publick  virtues2   
whether he will labour for the general  
benefit  of mankind1 or contract his    
beneficence to his  family and          
dependants4    ,this question has long  
exercised the schools of  philosophy1   
but remains yet undecided2 and what     
hope is there that a young man1         
unacquainted with  the arguments on     
either side1 should determine his  own  
destiny otherwise than by chance8       
,when chance has given him a partner of 
his bed1  whom he prefers to all other  
women1 without any  proof of superior   
desert1 chance must again direct  him in
 the education of his children2 for1 who
 was  ever able to convince himself by  
arguments1 that  he had chosen for his  
son that mode of instruction  to which  
his understanding was best adapted1 or  
by which he would most easily be made   
wise or  virtuous8    ,whoever shall    
inquire by what motives he was          
determined on these important occasions1
 will find  them such as his pride will 

scarcely suffer him to  confess2 some   
sudden ardour of desire1 some  uncertain
 glimpse of advantage1 some petty       
competition1 some inaccurate conclusion1
 or some example  implicitly reverenced4
  ,such are often the first causes  of  
our resolves2 for it is necessary to    
act1 but  impossible to know the        
consequences of action1 or to  discuss  
all the reasons which offer themselves  
on  every part to inquisitiveness and   
solicitude4  ,since life itself is      
uncertain1 nothing which has  life for  
its basis can boast much stability4     
,yet this  is but a small part of our   
perplexity4  ,we set out on  a          
tempestuous sea in quest of some port1  
where we  expect to find rest1 but where
 we are not sure of  admission1 we are  
not only in danger of sinking in  the   
way1 but of being misled by meteors     
mistaken  for stars1 of being driven    
from our course by the  changes of the  
wind1 and of losing it by unskilful     
steerage2 yet it sometimes happens1 that

 cross winds  blow us to a safer coast1 
that meteors draw us aside  from        
whirlpools1 and that negligence or      
errour  contributes to our escape from  
mischiefs to which a  direct course     
would have exposed us4  ,of those that1 
by precipitate conclusions1 involve     
themselves in  calamities without guilt1
 very few1 however they  may reproach   
themselves1 can be certain that other   
measures would have been more           
successful4    ,in this state of        
universal uncertainty1 where a  thousand
 dangers hover about us1 and none can   
tell  whether the good that he pursues  
is not evil in  disguise1 or whether the
 next step will lead him to  safety or  
destruction1 nothing can afford any     
rational tranquillity1 but the          
conviction that1  however we amuse      
ourselves with unideal sounds1  nothing 
in reality is governed by chance1 but   
that  the universe is under the         
perpetual superintendance  of ,him who  
created it2 that our being is in the    

hands of omnipotent ,goodness1 by whom  
what  appears casual to us1 is directed 
for ends ultimately  kind and merciful2 
and that nothing can finally  hurt him  
who debars not himself from the ,divine 
favour4        ,no4 #ahe4 ,,tuesday1    
,,december #bd1 #agea     ,at vindicta  
bonum vita jucundius ipsa1   ,nempe hoc 
indocti4------------   ,chrysippus non  
dicet idem1 nec mite ,thaletis          
,ingenium1 dulcique senex vicinus       
,hymetto1   ,qui partem adceptae saeva  
inter vincla ,cicutoe   ,adcusatori     
nollet dare4----                        
----------------,quippe minuti   ,semper
 et infirmi est animi exiguique voluptas
   ,ultio4                 ,,juv4 ,sat4 
xiii4 #ahj4     ,,but ,o6 ,,revenge ,,is
 ,,sweet4   ,thus think the crowd2 who1 
eager to engage1   ,take quickly fire1  
and kindle into rage4   ,not so mild    
,thales nor ,chrysippus thought1   ,nor 
that good man1 who drank the poisonous  
draught   ,with mind serene2 and could  
not wish to see   ,his vile accuser     

drink as deep as he3   ,exalted         
,socrates6 divinely brave6   ,injur'd he
 fell1 and dying he forgave6   ,too     
noble for revenge2 which still we find  
,the weakest frailty of a feeble mind4  
,,dryden    ,,no vicious dispositions of
 the mind more  obstinately resist both 
the counsels of philosophy  and the     
injunctions of religion1 than those     
which  are complicated with an opinion  
of dignity2 and  which we cannot dismiss
 without leaving in the  hands of       
opposition some advantage iniquitously  
obtained1 or suffering from our own     
prejudices some  imputation of          
pusillanimity4    ,for this reason      
scarcely any law of our ,redeemer  is   
more openly transgressed1 or more       
industriously  evaded1 than that by     
which he commands his followers  to     
forgive injuries1 and prohibits1 under  
the  sanction of eternal misery1 the    
gratification of the  desire which every
 man feels to return pain upon  him that
 inflicts it4  ,many who could have     

conquered  their anger1 are unable to   
combat pride1 and pursue  offences to   
extremity of vengeance1 lest they should
  be insulted by the triumph of an      
enemy4    ,but certainly no precept     
could better become  him1 at whose birth
 ,,peace was proclaimed ,,to ,,the      
,,earth4  ,for1 what would so soon      
destroy all the order of  society1 and  
deform life with violence and ravage1 as
  a permission to every one to judge his
 own cause1  and to apportion his own   
recompense for imagined  injuries8      
,it is difficult for a man of the       
strictest justice not  to favour himself
 too much1 in the calmest moments  of   
solitary meditation4  ,every one wishes 
for the  distinctions for which         
thousands are wishing at the  same time1
 in their own opinion1 with better      
claims4  ,he that1 when his reason      
operates in its full force1  can thus1  
by the mere prevalence of self-love1    
prefer himself to his fellow-beings1 is 
very unlikely to  judge equitably when  

his passions are agitated by  a sense of
 wrong1 and his attention wholly        
engrossed  by pain1 interest1 or danger4
  ,whoever arrogates to  himself the    
right of vengeance1 shews how little he 
is qualified to decide his own claims1  
since he  certainly demands what he     
would think unfit to be  granted to     
another4    ,nothing is more apparent   
than that1 however  injured1 or however 
provoked1 some must at last be          
contented to forgive4  ,for it can never
 be hoped1  that he who first commits an
 injury1 will contentedly  acquiesce in 
the penalty required3 the same          
haughtiness of contempt1 or vehemence of
 desire1  that prompt the act of        
injustice1 will more strongly  incite   
its justification2 and resentment can   
never so  exactly balance the punishment
 with the fault1 but  there will remain 
an overplus of vengeance which  even he 
who condemns his first action will think
  himself entitled to retaliate4  ,what 
then can ensue  but a continual         

exacerbation of hatred1 an              
unextinguishable feud1 an incessant     
reciprocation of  mischief1 a mutual    
vigilance to entrap1 and eagerness to   
destroy4    ,since then the imaginary   
right of vengeance must  be at last     
remitted1 because it is impossible to   
live  in perpetual hostility1 and       
equally impossible that  of two enemies1
 either should first think himself      
obliged by justice to submission1 it is 
surely eligible  to forgive early4      
,every passion is more easily  subdued  
before it has been long accustomed to   
possession  of the heart2 every idea is 
obliterated with less  difficulty1 as it
 has been more slightly impressed1  and 
less frequently renewed4  ,he who has   
often  brooded over his wrongs1 pleased 
himself with  schemes of malignity1 and 
glutted his pride with  the fancied     
supplications of humbled enmity1 will   
not easily open his bosom to amity and  
reconciliation1  or indulge the gentle  
sentiments of benevolence and peace4    

,it is easiest to forgive1 while there  
is yet little to  be forgiven4  ,a      
single injury may be soon dismissed     
from the memory2 but a long succession  
of ill offices  by degrees associates   
itself with every idea2 a  long contest 
involves so many circumstances1 that    
every place and action will recall it to
 the mind1  and fresh remembrance of    
vexation must still enkindle  rage1 and 
irritate revenge4    ,a wise man will   
make haste to forgive1 because  he knows
 the true value of time1 and will not   
suffer  it to pass away in unnecessary  
pain4  ,he that  willingly suffers the  
corrosions of inveterate hatred1 and    
gives up his days and nights to the     
gloom of malice1  and perturbations of  
stratagem1 cannot surely be  said to    
consult his ease4  ,resentment is an    
union of  sorrow with malignity1 a      
combination of a passion  which all     
endeavour to avoid1 with a passion which
  all concur to detest4  ,the man who   
retires to  meditate mischief1 and to   

exasperate his own rage2 whose  thoughts
 are employed only on means of distress 
and contrivances of ruin2 whose mind    
never pauses  from the remembrance of   
his own sufferings1 but to  indulge some
 hope of enjoying the calamities of     
another1 may justly be numbered among   
the most  miserable of human beings1    
among those who are  guilty without     
reward1 who have neither the gladness   
of prosperity1 nor the calm of          
innocence4    ,whoever considers the    
weakness both of himself  and others1   
will not long want persuasives to       
forgiveness4  ,we know not to what      
degree of malignity  any injury is to be
 imputed2 or how much its guilt1  if we 
were to inspect the mind of him that    
committed  it1 would be extenuated by   
mistake1 precipitance1  or negligence2  
we cannot be certain how  much more we  
feel than was intended to be inflicted1 
or how much we increase the mischief to 
ourselves  by voluntary aggravations4   
,we may charge to design  the effects of

 accident2 we may think the blow        
violent only because we have made       
ourselves delicate  and tender2 we are  
on every side in danger of errour  and  
of guilt2 which we are certain to avoid 
only by  speedy forgiveness4    ,from   
this pacifick and harmless temper1 thus 
propitious to others and ourselves1 to  
domestick  tranquillity and to social   
happiness1 no man is  withheld but by   
pride1 by the fear of being insulted  by
 his adversary1 or despised by the      
world4    ,it may be laid down as an    
unfailing and universal  axiom1 that all
 pride is abject and mean4  ,it is      
always an ignorant1 lazy1 or cowardly   
acquiescence  in a false appearance of  
excellence1 and proceeds  not from      
consciousness of our attainments1 but   
insensibility of our wants4    ,nothing 
can be great which is not right4        
,nothing  which reason condemns can be  
suitable to the dignity  of the human   
mind4  ,to be driven by external        
motives from the path which our own     

heart approves1  to give way to any     
thing but conviction1 to  suffer the    
opinion of others to rule our choice1 or
  overpower our resolves1 is to submit  
tamely to the  lowest and most          
ignominious slavery1 and to resign  the 
right of directing our own lives4       
,the utmost excellence at which humanity
 can  arrive1 is a constant and         
determinate pursuit of  virtue1 without 
regard to present dangers or  advantage2
 a continual reference of every action  
to  the divine will2 an habitual appeal 
to everlasting  justice2 and an unvaried
 elevation of the  intellectual eye to  
the reward which perseverance only can  
obtain4  ,but that pride which many1 who
 presume  to boast of generous          
sentiments1 allow to regulate  their    
measures1 has nothing nobler in view    
than the  approbation of men1 of beings 
whose superiority  we are under no      
obligation to acknowledge1 and  who1    
when we have courted them with the      
utmost  assiduity1 can confer no        

valuable or permanent  reward2 of beings
 who ignorantly judge of what  they do  
not understand1 or partially determine  
what they never have examined2 and whose
 sentence  is therefore of no weight    
till it has received  the ratification  
of our own conscience4    ,he that can  
descend to bribe suffrages like these1  
at the price of his innocence3 he that  
can suffer the  delight of such         
acclamations to withhold his attention  
from the commands of the universal      
,sovereign1  has little reason to       
congratulate himself upon the  greatness
 of his mind2 whenever he awakes to     
seriousness and reflection1 he must     
become despicable  in his own eyes1 and 
shrink with shame from  the remembrance 
of his cowardice and folly4    ,of him  
that hopes to be forgiven1 it is        
indispensably required that he forgive4 
,it is therefore  superfluous to urge   
any other motive4  ,on this great  duty 
eternity is suspended1 and to him that  
refuses  to practise it1 the ,throne of 

mercy is inaccessible1  and the ,saviour
 of the world has been born in vain4    
,no4 #ahf4 ,,saturday1 ,,december #bh1  
#agea     ,pone me1 pigris ubi nulla    
campis   ,arbor aestiva recreatur       
aura----   ,dulce ridentem ,lagagen     
amabo    ,dulce loquentem4   ,,hor4     
,lib4 i4 ,ode xxii4 #ag4       ,place me
 where never summer breeze   ,unbinds   
the glebe1 or warms the trees2   ,where 
ever lowering clouds appear1   ,and     
angry ,jove deforms th' inclement year3 
,love and the nymph shall charm my      
toils1   ,the nymph1 who sweetly speaks 
and sweetly smiles4    ,,francis4       
,,of the happiness and misery of our    
present state1  part arises from our    
sensations1 and part from  our opinions2
 part is distributed by nature1 and part
  is in a great measure apportioned by  
ourselves4  ,positive pleasure we cannot
 always obtain1 and positive  pain we   
often cannot remove4  ,no man can give  
to his own plantations the fragrance of 
the ,indian  groves2 nor will any       

precepts of philosophy enable  him to   
withdraw his attention from wounds or   
diseases4  ,but the negative infelicity 
which proceeds1  not from the pressure  
of sufferings1 but the absence  of      
enjoyments1 will always yield to the    
remedies  of reason4    ,one of the     
great arts of escaping superfluous      
uneasiness1 is to free our minds from   
the habit of  comparing our condition   
with that of others on whom  the        
blessings of life are more bountifully  
bestowed1  or with imaginary states of  
delight and security1  perhaps          
unattainable by mortals4  ,few are      
placed in  a situation so gloomy and    
distressful1 as not to see  every day   
beings yet more forlorn and miserable1  
from whom they may learn to rejoice in  
their own lot4    ,no inconvenience is  
less superable by art or  diligence than
 the inclemency of climates1 and        
therefore  none affords more proper     
exercise for this philosophical         
abstraction4  ,a native of ,england1    

pinched  with the frosts of ,december1  
may lessen his affection  for his own   
country by suffering his imagination  to
 wander in the vales of ,asia1 and sport
 among  the woods that are always green1
 and streams that  always murmur2 but if
 he turns his thought towards  the polar
 regions1 and considers the nations to  
whom  a great portion of the year is    
darkness1 and who  are condemned to pass
 weeks and months amidst  mountains of  
snow1 he will soon recover his          
tranquillity1 and1 while he stirs his   
fire1 or throws his  cloak about him1   
reflect how much he owes to ,providence1
  that he is not placed in ,greenland or
 ,siberia4    ,the barrenness of the    
earth and the severity of  the skies in 
these dreary countries1 are such as     
might be expected to confine the mind   
wholly to the  contemplation of         
necessity and distress1 so that the     
care of escaping death from cold and    
hunger1 should  leave no room for those 
passions which1 in lands of  plenty1    

influence conduct1 or diversify         
characters2  the summer should be spent 
only in providing for  the winter1 and  
the winter in longing for the summer4   
,yet learned curiosity is known to have 
found its  way into these abodes of     
poverty and gloom3 ,lapland  and        
,iceland have their historians1 their   
criticks1  and their poets2 and love1   
that extends his dominion  wherever     
humanity can be found1 perhaps exerts   
the same power in the ,greenlander's hut
 as in the  palaces of eastern monarchs4
    ,in one of the large caves to which 
the families of  ,greenland retire      
together1 to pass the cold months1  and 
which may be termed their villages or   
cities1 a  youth and maid1 who came from
 different parts of  the country1 were  
so much distinguished for their  beauty1
 that they were called by the rest of   
the  inhabitants ,anningait and ,ajut1  
from a supposed  resemblance to their   
ancestors of the same names1 who  had   
been transformed of old into the sun and

 moon4    ,anningait for some time heard
 the praises of ,ajut  with little      
emotion1 but at last1 by frequent       
interviews1 became sensible of her      
charms1 and first made  a discovery of  
his affection1 by inviting her with her 
parents to a feast1 where he placed     
before ,ajut the  tail of a whale4      
,ajut seemed not much delighted by  this
 gallantry2 yet1 however1 from that time
 was  observed rarely to appear1 but in 
a vest made of  the skin of a white     
deer2 she used frequently to  renew the 
black dye upon her hands and forehead1  
to adorn her sleeves with coral and     
shells1 and to  braid her hair with     
great exactness4    ,the elegance of her
 dress1 and the judicious  disposition  
of her ornaments1 had such an effect    
upon  ,anningait1 that he could no      
longer be restrained  from a declaration
 of his love4  ,he therefore  composed a
 poem in her praise1 in which1 among    
other  heroick and tender sentiments1 he
 protested1 that  she was beautiful as  

the vernal willow1 and  fragrant as the 
thyme upon the mountains2 that her      
fingers were white as the teeth of the  
morse1 and  her smile grateful as the   
dissolution of the ice2 that  he would  
pursue her1 though she should pass the  
snows of the midland cliffs1 or seek    
shelter in the  caves of the eastern    
cannibals3 that he would tear  her from 
the embraces of the genius of the rocks1
  snatch her from the paws of ,amarock1 
and rescue  her from the ravine of      
,hafgufa4  ,he concluded  with a wish1  
that whoever shall attempt to hinder    
his union with ,ajut1 might be buried   
without his  bow1 and that1 in the land 
of souls1 his skull might  serve for no 
other use than to catch the droppings   
of the starry lamps4    ,this ode being 
universally applauded1 it was  expected 
that ,ajut would soon yield to such     
fervour  and accomplishments2 but ,ajut1
 with the natural  haughtiness of       
beauty1 expected all the forms of       
courtship2 and before she would confess 

herself  conquered1 the sun returned1   
the ice broke1 and the  season of labour
 called all to their employments4       
,anningait and ,ajut for a time always  
went out  in the same boat1 and divided 
whatever was caught4  ,anningait1 in the
 sight of his mistress1 lost no         
opportunity of signalizing his courage3 
he attacked  the sea-horses on the ice2 
pursued the seals into the  water1 and  
leaped upon the back of the whale1 while
  he was yet struggling with the remains
 of life4  ,nor  was his diligence less 
to accumulate all that could  be        
necessary to make winter comfortable3 he
 dried  the roe of fishes and the flesh 
of seals2 he entrapped  deer and foxes1 
and dressed their skins to adorn his    
bride2 he feasted her with eggs from the
 rocks1 and  strewed her tent with      
flowers4    ,it happened that a tempest 
drove the fish to a  distant part of the
 coast1 before ,anningait had  completed
 his store2 he therefore entreated      
,ajut1  that she would at last grant him

 her hand1 and  accompany him to that   
part of the country whither  he was now 
summoned by necessity4  ,ajut thought   
him not yet entitled to such            
condescension1 but  proposed1 as a trial
 of his constancy1 that he should       
return at the end of summer to the      
cavern where  their acquaintance        
commenced1 and there expect  the reward 
of his assiduities4  ,o virgin1         
beautiful  as the sun shining on the    
water1 consider1  said ,anningait1 what 
thou hast required4  ,how  easily may my
 return be precluded by a sudden  frost 
or unexpected fogs6 then must the night 
be passed without my ,ajut4  ,we live   
not1 my fair1  in those fabled          
countries1 which lying strangers so     
wantonly describe2 where the whole year 
is divided  into short days and nights2 
where the same  habitation serves for   
summer and winter2 where they  raise    
houses in rows above the ground1 dwell  
together from year to year1 with flocks 
of tame  animals grazing in the fields  

about them2 can travel at  any time from
 one place to another1 through ways     
inclosed with trees1 or over walls      
raised upon the  inland waters2 and     
direct their course through wide        
countries by the sight of green hills or
 scattered  buildings4  ,even in summer 
we have no means of  crossing the       
mountains1 whose snows are never        
dissolved2 nor can remove to any distant
 residence1  but in our boats coasting  
the bays4  ,consider1 ,ajut1  a few     
summer-days1 and a few winter-nights1   
and  the life of man is at an end4      
,night is the time of  ease and         
festivity1 of revels and gaiety2 but    
what  will be the flaming lamp1 the     
delicious seal1 or the  soft oil1       
without the smile of ,ajut8    ,the     
eloquence of ,anningait was vain2 the   
maid  continued inexorable1 and they    
parted with ardent  promises to meet    
again before the night of winter4       
,no4 #ahg4 ,,tuesday1 ,,december #ca1   
#agea     ,non illuwm nostri possunt    

mutare labores2   ,non si frigoribus    
mediis ,hebrumque bibamus1              
,sithoniasque nives hyemis subeamus     
aquosae3----       ,omnia vincit amor4  
,,virg4 ,ec4 x4 #fd4     ,love alters   
not for us his hard decrees1   ,not     
though beneath the ,thracian clime we   
freeze1   ,or the mild bliss of         
temperate skies forego1   ,and in mid   
winter tread ,sithonian snow3----       
,love conquers all4----    ,,dryden4    
,,anningait1 however discomposed by the 
dilatory coyness of ,ajut1 was yet      
resolved to  omit no tokens of amorous  
respect2 and therefore  presented her at
 his departure with the skins of  seven 
white fawns1 of five swans and eleven   
seals1  with three marble lamps1 ten    
vessels of seal oil1 and  a large kettle
 of brass1 which he had purchased from  
a ship1 at the price of half a whale1   
and two horns  of sea-unicorns4    ,ajut
 was so much affected by the fondness of
  her lover1 or so much overpowered by  
his magnificence1  that she followed him

 to the sea-side2 and1  when she saw him
 enter the boat1 wished aloud1  that he 
might return with plenty of skins and   
oil2  that neither the mermaids might   
snatch him into  the deeps1 nor the     
spirits of the rocks confine him  in    
their caverns4    ,she stood a while to 
gaze upon the departing  vessel1 and    
then returning to her hut1 silent and   
dejected1 laid aside1 from that hour1   
her white deer  skin1 suffered her hair 
to spread unbraided on her  shoulders1  
and forbore to mix in the dances of the 
maidens4  ,she endeavoured to divert her
 thoughts1  by continual application to 
feminine employments1  gathered moss for
 the winter lamps1 and dried  grass to  
line the boots of ,anningait4  ,of the  
skins  which he had bestowed upon her1  
she made a fishing-  coat1 a small boat1
 and tent1 all of exquisite             
manufacture2 and while she was thus     
busied1 solaced  her labours with a     
song1 in which she prayed1 that  her    
lover might have hands stronger than the

 paws  of the bear1 and feet swifter    
than the feet of reindeer2  that his    
dart might never err1 and that his boat 
might  never leak2 that he might never  
stumble on the ice1  nor faint in the   
water2 that the seal might rush on  his 
harpoon1 and the wounded whale might    
dash  the waves in vain4    ,the large  
boats in which the ,greenlanders        
transport their families1 are always    
rowed by women2  for a man will not     
debase himself by work1 which  requires 
neither skill nor courage4  ,anningait  
was  therefore exposed by idleness to   
the ravages of  passion4  ,he went      
thrice to the stern of the boat1 with   
an intent to leap into the water1 and   
swim back to  his mistress2 but1        
recollecting the misery which they  must
 endure in the winter1 without oil for  
the lamp1  or skins for the bed1 he     
resolved to employ the  weeks of absence
 in provision for a night of plenty  and
 felicity4  ,he then composed his       
emotions as he  could1 and expressed1 in

 wild numbers and uncouth  images1 his  
hopes1 his sorrows1 and his fears4  ,o  
life6 says he1 frail and uncertain6     
where shall  wretched man find thy      
resemblance1 but in ice  floating on the
 ocean8  ,it towers on high1 ,it        
sparkles  from afar1 while the storms   
drive and the waters  beat it1 the sun  
melts it above1 and the rocks shatter   
it below4  ,what art thou1 deceitful    
pleasure6 but a  sudden blaze streaming 
from the north1 which plays  a moment on
 the eye1 mocks the traveller with the  
hopes of light1 and then vanishes for   
ever8  ,what1  love1 art thou but a     
whirlpool1 which we approach  without   
knowledge of our danger1 drawn on by    
imperceptible degrees1 till we have lost
 all power of  resistance and escape8   
,till ,i fixed my eyes on the  graces of
 ,ajut1 while ,i had not yet called her 
to  the banquet1 ,i was careless as the 
sleeping morse1  was merry as the       
singers in the stars4  ,why1 ,ajut1  did
 ,i gaze upon thy graces8 why1 my fair1 

did ,i call  thee to the banquet8  ,yet1
 be faithful1 my love1  remember        
,anningait1 and meet my return with the 
smile of virginity4  ,i will chase the  
deer1 ,i will subdue  the whale1        
resistless as the frost of darkness1 and
 un-  wearied as the summer sun4  ,in a 
few weeks ,i shall  return prosperous   
and wealthy2 then shall the roe-  fish  
and the porpoise feast thy kindred2 the 
fox and  hare shall cover thy couch2 the
 tough hide of the  seal shall shelter  
thee from cold2 and the fat of the      
whale illuminate thy dwelling4          
,anningait having with these sentiments 
consoled  his grief1 and animated his   
industry1 found that they  had now      
coasted the headland1 and saw the whales
  spouting at a distance4  ,he therefore
 placed himself  in his fishing-boat1   
called his associates to their  several 
employments1 plied his oar and harpoon  
with  incredible courage and dexterity2 
and1 by dividing  his time between the  
chace and fishery1 suspended  the       

miseries of absence and suspicion4      
,ajut1 in the mean time1 notwithstanding
 her  neglected dress1 happened1 as she 
was drying some  skins in the sun1 to   
catch the eye of ,norngsuk1 on  his     
return from hunting4  ,norngsuk was of  
birth  truly illustrious4  ,his mother  
had died in child-birth1  and his       
father1 the most expert fisher of       
,greenland1  had perished by too close  
pursuit of the whale4  ,his  dignity was
 equalled by his riches2 he was master  
of four men's and two women's boats1 had
 ninety  tubs of oil in his winter      
habitation1 and five-and-  twenty seals 
buried in the snow against the season   
of darkness4  ,when he saw the beauty of
 ,ajut1 he  immediately threw over her  
the skin of a deer that  he had taken1  
and soon after presented her with a     
branch of coral4  ,ajut refused his     
gifts1 and determined  to admit no lover
 in the place of ,anningait4            
,norngsuk1 thus rejected1 had recourse  
to stratagem4  ,he knew that ,ajut would

 consult an ,angekkok1  or diviner1     
concerning the fate of her lover1  and  
the felicity of her future life4  ,he   
therefore  applied himself to the most  
celebrated ,angekkok  of that part of   
the country1 and1 by a present of  two  
seals and a marble kettle1 obtained a   
promise1  that when ,ajut should consult
 him1 he would declare  that her lover  
was in the land of souls4  ,ajut1  in a 
short time1 brought him a coat made by  
herself1  and inquired what events were 
to befall her1  with assurances of a    
much larger reward at the  return of    
,anningait1 if the prediction should    
flatter  her desires4  ,the ,angekkok   
knew the way to riches1  and foretold   
that ,anningait1 having already caught  
two whales1 would soon return home with 
a large  boat laden with provisions4    
,this prognostication she was ordered to
 keep  secret2 and ,norngsuk depending  
upon his artifice1  renewed his         
addresses with greater confidence2 but  
finding his suit still unsuccessful1    

applied himself to  her parents with    
gifts and promises4  ,the wealth of     
,greenland is too powerful for the      
virtue of a  ,greenlander2 they forgot  
the merit and the presents of           
,anningait1 and decreed ,ajut to the    
embraces of  ,norngsuk4  ,she entreated2
 she remonstrated2 she  wept1 and raved2
 but finding riches irresistible1 fled  
away into the uplands1 and lived in a   
cave upon  such berries as she could    
gather1 and the birds or  hares which   
she had the fortune to ensnare1 taking  
care1 at an hour when she was not likely
 to be  found1 to view the sea every    
day1 that her lover  might not miss her 
at his return4    ,at last she saw the  
great boat in which ,anningait  had     
departed1 stealing slow and heavy laden 
along the coast4  ,she ran with all the 
impatience of  affection to catch her   
lover in her arms1 and relate  her      
constancy and sufferings4  ,when the    
company  reached the land1 they informed
 her that ,anningait1  after the fishery

 was ended1 being unable to  support the
 slow passage of the vessel of carriage1
  had set out before them in his        
fishing-boat1 and  they expected at     
their arrival to have found him  on     
shore4    ,ajut1 distracted at this     
intelligence1 was about to  fly into the
 hills1 without knowing why1 though  she
 was now in the hands of her parents1   
who forced  her back to their own hut1  
and endeavoured to  comfort her2 but    
when at last they retired to rest1      
,ajut went down to the beach2 where1    
finding a  fishing-boat1 she entered it 
without hesitation1 and  telling those  
who wondered at her rashness1 that  she 
was going in search of ,anningait1 rowed
 away  with great swiftness1 and was    
seen no more4    ,the fate of these     
lovers gave occasion to various         
fictions and conjectures4  ,some are of 
opinion1 that  they were changed into   
stars2 others imagine1 that  ,anningait 
was seized in his passage by the genius 
of the rocks1 and that ,ajut was        

transformed into a  mermaid1 and still  
continues to seek her lover in  the     
deserts of the sea4  ,but the general   
persuasion  is1 that they are both in   
that part of the land of  souls where   
the sun never sets1 where oil is always 
fresh1 and provisions always warm4  ,the
 virgins  sometimes throw a thimble and 
a needle into the  bay1 from which the  
hapless maid departed2 and  when a      
,greenlander would praise any couple for
  virtuous affection1 he declares that  
they love like  ,anningait and ,ajut4   
,no4 #ahh4 ,,saturday1 ,,january #d1    
#agea     ----,si te colo1 ,sexte1 non  
amabo4    ,,mart4 ,lib4 ii4 ,ep4 iv4    
#cc4       ,the more ,i honour thee1 the
 less ,i love4    ,,one of the desires  
dictated by vanity is more  general1 or 
less blamable1 than that of being       
distinguished for the arts of           
conversation4  ,other  accomplishments  
may be possessed without opportunity  of
 exerting them1 or wanted without danger
  that the defect can often be remarked2

 but as no  man can live1 otherwise than
 in an hermitage1  without hourly       
pleasure or vexation1 from the fondness 
or neglect of those about him1 the      
faculty of giving  pleasure is of       
continual use4  ,few are more           
frequently envied than those who have   
the power of  forcing attention wherever
 they come1 whose entrance  is          
considered as a promise of felicity1 and
  whose departure is lamented1 like the 
recess of the  sun from northern        
climates1 as a privation of all  that   
enlivens fancy1 or inspirits gaiety4    
,it is apparent1 that to excellence in  
this valuable  art1 some peculiar       
qualifications are necessary2 for  every
 one's experience will inform him1 that 
the  pleasure which men are able to give
 in conversation1  holds no stated      
proportion to their knowledge  or their 
virtue4  ,many find their way to the    
tables  and the parties of those who    
never consider them as  of the least    
importance in any other place2 we have  

all1 at one time or other1 been content 
to love those  whom we could not esteem1
 and been persuaded  to try the         
dangerous experiment of admitting him   
for a companion1 whom we knew to be too 
ignorant  for a counsellor1 and too     
treacherous for a friend4    ,i question
 whether some abatement of character  is
 not necessary to general acceptance4   
,few spend  their time with much        
satisfaction under the eye of           
uncontestable superiority2 and          
therefore1 among  those whose presence  
is courted at assemblies of  jollity1   
there are seldom found men eminently    
distinguished for powers or             
acquisitions4  ,the wit whose  vivacity 
condemns slower tongues to silence1 the 
scholar whose knowledge allows no man to
 fancy  that he instructs him1 the      
critick who suffers no  fallacy to pass 
undetected1 and the reasoner who        
condemns the idle to thought1 and the   
negligent  to attention1 are generally  
praised and feared1  reverenced and     

avoided4    ,he that would please must  
rarely aim at such  excellence as       
depresses his hearers in their own      
opinion1 or debars them from the hope of
 contributing  reciprocally to the      
entertainment of the company4           
,merriment1 extorted by sallies of      
imagination1  sprightliness of remark1  
or quickness of reply1 is too  often    
what the ,latins call1 the ,sardinian   
laughter1  a distortion of the face     
without gladness of heart4    ,for this 
reason1 no style of conversation is more
  extensively acceptable than the       
narrative4  ,he who  has stored his     
memory with slight anecdotes1 private   
incidents1 and personal peculiarities1  
seldom  fails to find his audience      
favourable4  ,almost every  man listens 
with eagerness to contemporary history2 
for almost every man has some real or   
imaginary  connexion with a celebrated  
character1 some desire  to advance or   
oppose a rising name4  ,vanity often    
co-operates with curiosity4  ,he that is

 a hearer in  one place1 qualifies      
himself to become a speaker in  another2
 for though he cannot comprehend a      
series  of argument1 or transport the   
volatile spirit of wit  without         
evaporation1 he yet thinks himself able 
to  treasure up the various incidents of
 a story1 and  please his hopes with the
 information which he shall  give to    
some inferior society4    ,narratives   
are for the most part heard without     
envy1 because they are not supposed to  
imply any  intellectual qualities above 
the common rate4  ,to be  acquainted    
with facts not yet echoed by plebeian   
mouths1 may happen to one man as well as
 to  another2 and to relate them when   
they are known1  has in appearance so   
little difficulty1 that every one       
concludes himself equal to the task4    
,but it is not easy1 and in some        
situations of life  not possible1 to    
accumulate such a stock of  materials as
 may support the expense of continual   
narration2 and it frequently happens1   

that they who  attempt this method of   
ingratiating themselves1  please only at
 the first interview2 and1 for want of  
new supplies of intelligence1 wear out  
their stories  by continual repetition4 
,there would be1 therefore1 little hope 
of  obtaining the praise of a good      
companion1 were it not  to be gained by 
more compendious methods2 but  such is  
the kindness of mankind to all1 except  
those who aspire to real merit and      
rational dignity1  that every           
understanding may find some way to      
excite benevolence2 and whoever is not  
envied may  learn the art of procuring  
love4  ,we are willing to be  pleased1  
but are not willing to admire3 we favour
 the  mirth or officiousness that       
solicits our regard1 but  oppose the    
worth or spirit that enforces it4       
,the first place among those that       
please1 because  they desire only to    
please1 is due to the ,,merry ,,fellow1 
whose laugh is loud1 and whose voice is 
strong2 who  is ready to echo every jest

 with obstreperous approbation1  and    
countenance every frolick with          
vociferations  of applause4  ,it is not 
necessary to a merry  fellow to have in 
himself any fund of jocularity1 or      
force of conception2 it is sufficient   
that he always  appears in the highest  
exaltation of gladness1 for  the greater
 part of mankind are gay or serious by  
infection1 and follow without resistance
 the attraction  of example4    ,next to
 the merry fellow is the                
,,good-,,natured  ,,man1 a being        
generally without benevolence1 or any   
other virtue1 than such as indolence and
 insensibility  confer4  ,the           
characteristick of a good-natured  man  
is to bear a joke2 to sit unmoved and   
unaffected  amidst noise and turbulence1
 profaneness and  obscenity2 to hear    
every tale without contradiction2  to   
endure insult without reply2 and to     
follow the  stream of folly1 whatever   
course it shall happen to  take4  ,the  
good-natured man is commonly the darling

  of the petty wits1 with whom they     
exercise  themselves in the rudiments of
 raillery2 for he never  takes advantage
 of failings1 nor disconcerts a puny    
satirist with unexpected sarcasms2 but  
while the  glass continues to circulate1
 contentedly bears the  expense of an   
uninterrupted laughter1 and retires     
rejoicing at his own importance4    ,the
 ,,modest ,,man is a companion of a yet 
lower  rank1 whose only power of giving 
pleasure is not to  interrupt it4  ,the 
modest man satisfies himself with       
peaceful silence1 which all his         
companions are candid  enough to        
consider as proceeding not from         
inability  to speak1 but willingness to 
hear4    ,many1 without being able to   
attain any general  character of        
excellence1 have some single art of     
entertainment which serves them as a    
passport through  the world4  ,one ,i   
have known for fifteen years the        
darling of a weekly club1 because every 
night1  precisely at eleven1 he begins  

his favourite song1 and  during the     
vocal performance1 by corresponding     
motions of his hand1 chalks out a giant 
upon the  wall4  ,another has endeared  
himself to a long  succession of        
acquaintances by sitting among them     
with his wig reversed2 another by       
contriving to smut  the nose of any     
stranger who was to be initiated in  the
 club2 another by purring like a cat1   
and then  pretending to be frighted2 and
 another by yelping  like a hound1 and  
calling to the drawers to drive out  the
 dogb4       b ,mrs4 ,piozzi1 in her    
,anecdotes1 informs us1 that the man who
  sung1 and1 by corresponding motions of
 his arm1 chalked out a  giant on the   
wall1 was one ,richardson1 an attorney3 
the ingenious  imitator of a cat1 was   
one ,busby1 a proctor in the ,commons3  
and  the father of ,dr4 ,salter1 of the 
,charter-,house1 a friend of            
,johnson's1 and a member of the         
,ivy-,lane ,club1 was the person who    
yelped like a hound1 and perplexed the  

distracted waiters4--,mr4  ,chalmers1 in
 his preface to the ,rambler observes1  
that the  above-quoted lively writer was
 the only authority for these           
assignments4  ,she is certainly far too 
hasty and negligent to be  relied on1   
when unsupported by other               
testimony4--,see ,preface4      ,such   
are the arts by which cheerfulness is   
promoted1 and sometimes friendship      
established2 arts1  which those who     
despise them should not rigorously      
blame1 except when they are practised at
 the  expense of innocence2 for it is   
always necessary to  be loved1 but not  
always necessary to be reverenced4      
,no4 #ahi4 ,,tuesday1 ,,january #g1     
#ageb     ,quod tam grande ,sophos      
clamat tibi turba togata2   ,non tu1    
,pomponi2 caena diserta tua est4        
,,mart4 ,lib4 vi4 ,ep4 xlviii4          
,resounding plaudits though the crowd   
have rung   ,thy treat is eloquent1 and 
not thy tongue4  ,f4 ,lewis4    ,,the   
world scarcely affords opportunities of 

making any observation more frequently1 
than on  false claims to commendation4  
,almost every man  wastes part of his   
life in attempts to display qualities   
which he does not possess1 and to gain  
applause  which he cannot keep2 so that 
scarcely can two persons  casually meet1
 but one is offended or diverted  by the
 ostentation of the other1    ,of these 
pretenders it is fit to distinguish     
those  who endeavour to deceive from    
them who are deceived2  those who by    
designed impostures promote  their      
interest1 or gratify their pride1 from  
them who  mean only to force into regard
 their latent excellencies  and         
neglected virtues2 who believe          
themselves  qualified to instruct or    
please1 and therefore invite  the notice
 of mankind4    ,the artful and         
fraudulent usurpers of distinction      
deserve greater severities than ridicule
 and contempt1  since they are seldom   
content with empty  praise1 but are     
instigated by passions more pernicious  

than vanity4  ,they consider the        
reputation which  they endeavour to     
establish as necessary to the           
accomplishment of some subsequent       
design1 and value  praise only as it may
 conduce to the success of avarice  or  
ambition4    ,the commercial world is   
very frequently put into  confusion by  
the bankruptcy of merchants1 that       
assumed the splendour of wealth only to 
obtain the  privilege of trading with   
the stock of other men1 and  of         
contracting debts which nothing but     
lucky casualties  could enable them to  
pay2 till after having  supported their 
appearance a while by tumultuous        
magnifience of boundless traffick1 they 
sink at once1  and drag down into       
poverty those whom their equipages  had 
induced to trust them4    ,among        
wretches that place their happiness in  
the  favour of the great1 of beings whom
 only high titles  or large estates set 
above themselves1 nothing is  more      
common than to boast of confidence which

 they  do not enjoy2 to sell promises   
which they know their  interest unable  
to perform2 and to reimburse the        
tribute which they pay to an imperious  
master1 from  the contributions of      
meaner dependants1 whom they  can amuse 
with tales of their influence1 and hopes
  of their solicitation4    ,even among 
some1 too thoughtless and volatile  for 
avarice or ambition1 may be found a     
species of  falsehood more detestable   
than the levee or exchange  can shew4   
,there are men that boast of            
debaucheries1  of which they never had  
address to be guilty2 ruin1  by lewd    
tales1 the characters of women to whom  
they are scarcely known1 or by whom they
 have  been rejected2 destroy in a      
drunken frolick the  happiness of       
families2 blast the bloom of beauty1 and
  intercept the reward of virtue4       
,other artifices of falsehood1 though   
utterly  unworthy of an ingenuous mind1 
are not yet to be  ranked with          
flagitious enormities1 nor is it        

necessary  to incite sanguinary justice 
against them1 since they  may be        
adequately punished by detection and    
laughter4  ,the traveller who describes 
cities which he has  never seen2 the    
squire1 who1 at his return from         
,london1 tells of his intimacy with     
nobles to whom he  has only bowed in the
 park or coffee-house2 the  author who  
entertains his admirers with stories of 
the  assistance which he gives to wits  
of a higher rank2  the city dame who    
talks of her visits at great houses1    
where she happens to know the cook-maid1
 are  surely such harmless animals as   
truth herself may  be content to despise
 without desiring to hurt them4    ,but 
of the multitudes who struggle in vain  
for  distinction1 and display their own 
merits only to  feel more acutely the   
sting of neglect1 a great part  are     
wholly innocent of deceit1 and are      
betrayed1 by  infatuation and credulity1
 to that scorn with which  the universal
 love of praise incites us all to drive 

feeble competitors out of our way4      
,few men survey themselves with so much 
severity1  as not to admit prejudices in
 their own favour1  which an artful     
flatterer may gradually strengthen1     
till wishes for a particular            
qualification are improved  to hopes of 
attainment1 and hopes of attainment to  
belief of possession4  ,such flatterers 
every one will  find1 who has power to  
reward their assiduities4  ,wherever    
there is wealth there will be dependance
  and expectation1 and wherever there is
 dependance1  there will be an emulation
 of servility4    ,many of the follies  
which provoke general  censure1 are the 
effects of such vanity as1 however it   
might have wantoned in the imagination1 
would  scarcely have dared the publick  
eye1 had it not been  animated and      
emboldened by flattery4  ,whatever      
difficulty there may be in the knowledge
 of  ourselves1 scarcely any one fails  
to suspect his own  imperfections1 till 
he is elevated by others to  confidence4

  ,we are almost all naturally modest   
and  timorous2 but fear and shame are   
uneasy sensations1  and whosoever helps 
to remove them is received  with        
kindness4    ,turpicula was the heiress 
of a large estate1 and  having lost her 
mother in infancy1 was committed  to a  
governess1 whom misfortunes had reduced 
to  suppleness and humility4  ,the      
fondness of ,turpicula's  father would  
not suffer him to trust her at a        
publick school1 but he hired domestick  
teachers1  and bestowed on her all the  
accomplishments that  wealth could      
purchase4  ,but how many things are     
necessary to happiness which money      
cannot obtain6  ,thus secluded from all 
with whom she might converse  on terms  
of equality1 she heard none of those    
intimations of her defects1 which envy1 
petulance1  or anger1 produce among     
children1 where they are  not afraid of 
telling what they think4    ,turpicula  
saw nothing but obsequiousness1 and     
heard nothing but commendations4  ,none 

are so  little acquainted with the      
heart1 as not to know that  woman's     
first wish is to be handsome1 and that  
consequently the readiest method of     
obtaining her  kindness is to praise her
 beauty4  ,turpicula had a distorted    
shape and a dark complexion2 yet1 when  
the impudence  of adulation had ventured
 to tell her of the  commanding dignity 
of her motion1 and the soft  enchantment
 of her smile1 she was easily convinced1
  that she was the delight or torment of
 every eye1  and that all who gazed upon
 her felt the fire of  envy or love4    
,she therefore neglected the culture  of
 an understanding which might have      
supplied the  defects of her form1 and  
applied all her care to the  decoration 
of her person2 for she considered that  
more could judge of beauty than of wit1 
and was1  like the rest of human beings1
 in haste to be admired4  ,the desire of
 conquest naturally led her to  the     
lists in which beauty signalizes her    
power4  ,she  glittered at court1       

fluttered in the park1 and talked  aloud
 in the front box2 but after a thousand 
experiments  of her charms1 was at last 
convinced that she  had been flattered1 
and that her glass was honester  than   
her maid4        ,no4 #aij4 ,,saturday1 
,,december #aa1 #ageb     ,ploravere    
suis non respondere favorem   ,speratum 
meritis4----  ,,hor4 ,lib4 ii4 ,ep4 i4  
#i4     ,henry and ,alfred----   ,clos'd
 their long glories with a sigh1 to find
   ,th' unwilling gratitude of base     
mankind4    ,,pope4    ,,among the emirs
 and visiers1 the sons of valour  and of
 wisdom1 that stand at the corners  of  
the ,indian throne1 to assist the       
counsels or  conduct the wars of the    
posterity of ,timur1 the  first place   
was long held by ,morad the son of      
,hanuth4  ,morad1 having signalized     
himself in many  battles and sieges1 was
 rewarded with the government  of a     
province1 from which the fame of his    
wisdom and moderation was wafted to the 
pinnacles  of ,agra1 by the prayers of  

those whom his  administration made     
happy4  ,the emperour called  him into  
his presence1 and gave into his hand the
  keys of riches1 and the sabre of      
command4  ,the  voice of ,morad was     
heard from the cliffs of ,taurus  to the
 ,indian ocean1 every tongue faltered in
 his  presence1 and every eye was cast  
down before him4    ,morad lived many   
years in prosperity2 every  day         
increased his wealth1 and extended his  
influence4  ,the sages repeated his     
maxims1 the captains  of thousands      
waited his commands4  ,competition      
withdrew into the cavern of envy1 and   
discontent  trembled at his own murmurs4
  ,but human greatness  is short and    
transitory1 as the odour of incense  in 
the fire4  ,the sun grew weary of       
gilding the  palaces of ,morad1 the     
clouds of sorrow gathered  round his    
head1 and the tempest of hatred roared  
about his dwelling4    ,morad saw ruin  
hastily approaching4  ,the first  that  
forsook him were his poets2 their       

example was  followed by all those whom 
he had rewarded for  contributing to his
 pleasures1 and only a few1 whose       
virtue had entitled them to favour1 were
 now to be seen  in his hall or         
chambers4  ,he felt his danger1 and     
prostrated himself at the foot of the   
throne4  ,his  accusers were confident  
and loud1 his friends stood  contented  
with frigid neutrality1 and the voice of
 truth  was overborne by clamour4  ,he  
was divested of his  power1 deprived of 
his acquisitions1 and condemned  to pass
 the rest of his life on his hereditary 
estate4    ,morad had been so long      
accustomed to crowds and  business1     
supplicants and flattery1 that he knew  
not  how to fill up his hours in        
solitude2 he saw with  regret the sun   
rise to force on his eye a new day for  
which he had no use2 and envied the     
savage that  wanders in the desert1     
because he has no time vacant  from the 
calls of nature1 but is always chasing  
his  prey1 or sleeping in his den4      

,his discontent in time vitiated his    
constitution1  and a slow disease siezed
 upon him4  ,he refused  physick1       
neglected exercise1 and lay down on his 
couch peevish and restless1 rather      
afraid to die than  desirous to live4   
,his domesticks1 for a time1  redoubled 
their assiduities2 but finding that no  
officiousness could soothe1 nor         
exactness satisfy1 they  soon gave way  
to negligence and sloth2 and he that    
once commanded nations1 often languished
 in his  chamber without an attendant4  
,in this melancholy state1 he commanded 
messengers to recall his eldest son     
,abouzaid from the  army4  ,abouzaid was
 alarmed at the account of his  father's
 sickness1 and hasted by long journeys  
to his  place of residence4  ,morad was 
yet living1 and felt  his strength      
return at the embraces of his son2 then 
commanding him to sit down at his       
bedside1 ,abouzaid1  says he1 thy father
 has no more to hope or  fear from the  
inhabitants of the earth2 the cold hand 

of the angel of death is now upon him1  
and the  voracious grave is howling for 
his prey4  ,hear1  therefore1 the       
precepts of ancient experience1 let not 
my  last instructions issue forth in    
vain4  ,thou hast seen  me happy and    
calamitous1 thou hast beheld my         
exaltation and my fall4  ,my power is in
 the hands of  my enemies1 my treasures 
have rewarded my accusers2  but my      
inheritance the clemency of the         
emperour has spared1 and my wisdom his  
anger  could not take away4  ,cast thine
 eyes around thee2  whatever thou       
beholdest will1 in a few hours1 be      
thine3 apply thine ear to my dictates1  
and these  possessions will promote thy 
happiness4  ,aspire not to  public      
honours1 enter not the palaces of kings2
 thy  wealth will set thee above insult1
 let thy moderation  keep thee below    
envy4  ,content thyself with private    
dignity1 diffuse thy riches among thy   
friends1 let  every day extend thy      
beneficence1 and suffer not  thy heart  

to be at rest till thou art loved by all
 to  whom thou art known4  ,in the      
height of my power1  ,i said to         
defamation1 ,who will hear thee8 and  to
 artifice1 ,what canst thou perform8    
,but1 my  son1 despise not thou the     
malice of the weakest1  remember that   
venom supplies the want of strength1    
and that the lion may perish by the     
puncture of  an asp4    ,morad expired  
in a few hours4  ,abouzaid1 after  the  
months of mourning1 determined to       
regulate  his conduct by his father's   
precepts1 and cultivate  the love of    
mankind by every art of kindness and    
endearment4  ,he wisely considered1 that
 domestick  happiness was first to be   
secured1 and that none  have so much    
power of doing good or hurt1 as  those  
who are present in the hour of          
negligence1  hear the bursts of         
thoughtless merriment1 and  observe the 
starts of unguarded passion4  ,he       
therefore  augmented the pay of all his 
attendants1 and  requited every exertion

 of uncommon diligence by  supernumerary
 gratuities4  ,while he congratulated   
himself upon the fidelity and affection 
of his family1  he was in the night     
alarmed with robbers1 who1 being        
pursued and taken1 declared that they   
had been  admitted by one of his        
servants2 the servant  immediately      
confessed1 that he unbarred the door1   
because another not more worthy of      
confidence was  entrusted with the keys4
    ,abouzaid was thus convinced that a 
dependant  could not easily be made a   
friend2 and that while  many were       
soliciting for the first rank of favour1
  all those would be alienated whom he  
disappointed4  ,he therefore resolved to
 associate with a few equal  companions 
selected from among the chief men of    
the province4  ,with these he lived     
happily for a time1  till familiarity   
set them free from restraint1 and  every
 man thought himself at liberty to      
indulge  his own caprice1 and advance   
his own opinions4  ,they then disturbed 

each other with contrariety  of         
inclinations1 and difference of         
sentiments1 and  ,abouzaid was          
necessitated to offend one party by     
concurrence1 or both by indifference4   
,he afterwards determined to avoid a    
close union  with beings so discordant  
in their nature1 and to  diffuse himself
 in a larger circle4  ,he practised the 
smile of universal courtesy1 and invited
 all to his  table1 but admitted none to
 his retirements4  ,many  who had been  
rejected in his choice of friendship1   
now refused to accept his acquaintance2 
and of  those whom plenty and           
magnificence drew to his  table1 every  
one pressed forward toward intimacy1    
thought himself overlooked in the crowd1
 and  murmured because he was not       
distinguished above the  rest4  ,by     
degrees all made advances1 and all      
resented  repulse4  ,the table was then 
covered with delicacies  in vain2 the   
musick sounded in empty rooms2 and      
,abouzaid was left to form in solitude  

some new  scheme of pleasure or         
security4    ,resolving now to try the  
force of gratitude1 he  inquired for men
 of science1 whose merit was  obscured  
by poverty4  ,his house was soon crowded
  with poets1 sculptors1 painters1 and  
designers1 who  wantoned in             
unexperienced plenty1 and employed      
their powers in celebration of their    
patron4  ,but in  a short time they     
forgot the distress from which  they had
 been rescued1 and began to consider    
their  deliverer as a wretch of narrow  
capacity1 who was  growing great by     
works which he could not perform1  and  
whom they overpaid by condescending  to 
accept his bounties4  ,abouzaid heard   
their  murmurs and dismissed them1 and  
from that hour  continued blind to      
colours1 and deaf to panegyrick4    ,as 
the sons of art departed1 muttering     
threats  of perpetual infamy1 ,abouzaid1
 who stood at the  gate1 called to him  
,hamet the poet4  ,hamet1  said he1 thy 
ingratitude has put an end to my  hopes 

and experiments3  ,i have now learned   
the  vanity of those labours that wish  
to be rewarded  by human benevolence2 ,i
 shall henceforth do good1  and avoid   
evil1 without respect to the opinion of 
men2 and resolve to solicit only the    
approbation of  that ,being whom alone  
we are sure to please by  endeavouring  
to please him4        ,no4 #aia4        
,,tuesday1 ,,january #ad1 #ageb         
,cereus in vitium flecti1 monitoribus   
asper4    ,,hor4 ,art4 ,poet4 #afc4     
,the youth----   ,yielding like wax1 th'
 impressive folly bears   ,rough to     
reproof1 and slow to future cares4      
,,francis4      ,,to ,,the ,,rambler4   
,,dear ,,mr4 ,,rambler1    ,i ,,have    
been four days confined to my chamber   
by a cold1 which has already kept me    
from three  plays1 nine sales1 five     
shows1 and six card-tables1  and put me 
seventeen visits behind-hand2 and the   
doctor tells my mamma1 that1 if ,i fret 
and cry1 it  will settle in my head1 and
 ,i shall not be fit to be  seen these  

six weeks4  ,but1 dear ,mr4 ,rambler1   
how  can ,i help it8  ,at this very time
 ,melissa is dancing  with the prettiest
 gentleman2--she will breakfast  with   
him to-morrow1 and then run to two      
auctions1  and hear compliments1 and    
have presents2 then she  will be drest1 
and visit1 and get a ticket to the play2
  then go to cards and win1 and come    
home with two  flambeaux before her     
chair4  ,dear ,mr4 ,rambler1 who  can   
bear it8    ,my aunt has just brought me
 a bundle of your  papers for my        
amusement4  ,she says you are a         
philosopher1  and will teach me to      
moderate my desires1 and  look upon the 
world with indifference4  ,but1 dear    
sir1  ,i do not wish nor intend to      
moderate my desires1 nor  can ,i think  
it proper to look upon the world with   
indifference1 till the world looks with 
indifference on  me4  ,i have been      
forced1 however1 to sit this morning  a 
whole quarter of an hour with your paper
 before  my face2 but just as my aunt   

came in1 ,phyllida  had brought me a    
letter from ,mr4 ,trip1 which ,i put    
within the leaves and read about        
,,absence and  ,,inconsolableness1 and  
,,ardour1 and ,,irresistible ,,passion1 
and  ,,eternal ,,constancy1 while my    
aunt imagined that ,i  was puzzling     
myself with your philosophy1 and often  
cried out1 when she saw me look         
confused1 ,if there  is any word that   
you do not understand1 child4  ,i will  
explain it4    ,dear soul6 how old      
people that think themselves  wise may  
be imposed upon6  ,but it is fit that   
they  should take their turn1 for ,i am 
sure1 while they can  keep poor girls   
close in the nursery1 they tyrannize    
over us in a very shameful manner1 and  
fill our  imaginations with tales of    
terrour1 only to make us  live in quiet 
subjection1 and fancy that we can never 
be safe but by their protection4    ,i  
have a mamma and two aunts1 who have all
 been  formerly celebrated for wit and  
beauty1 and are still  generally admired

 by those that value themselves  upon   
their understanding1 and love to talk of
 vice  and virtue1 nature and           
simplicity1 and beauty and  propriety2  
but if there was not some hope of       
meeting  me1 scarcely a creature would  
come near them  that wears a fashionable
 coat4  ,these ladies1 ,mr4  ,rambler1  
have had me under their government      
fifteen  years and a half1 and have all 
that time been  endeavouring to deceive 
me by such representations  of life as  
,i now find not to be true2 but ,i know 
not  whether ,i ought to impute them to 
ignorance or  malice1 as it is possible 
the world may be much  changed since    
they mingled in general conversation4   
,being desirous that ,i should love     
books1 they told  me1 that nothing but  
knowledge could make me an  agreeable   
companion to men of sense1 or qualify me
  to distinguish the superficial glitter
 of vanity from  the solid merit of     
understanding2 and that a habit  of     
reading would enable me to fill up the  

vacuities  of life without the help of  
silly or dangerous  amusements1 and     
preserve me from the snares of idleness 
and the inroads of temptation4    ,but  
their principal intention was to make me
  afraid of men2 in which they succeeded
 so well for  a time1 that ,i durst not 
look in their faces1 or be  left alone  
with them in a parlour2 for they made me
  fancy1 that no man ever spoke but to  
deceive1 or  looked but to allure2 that 
the girl who suffered him  that had once
 squeezed her hand1 to approach her a   
second time1 was on the brink of ruin2  
and that she  who answered a billet1    
without consulting her relations1  gave 
love such power over her1 that she would
  certainly become either poor or       
infamous4    ,from the time that my     
leading-strings were  taken off1 ,i     
scarce heard any mention of my beauty   
but from the milliner1 the mantua-maker1
 and my  own maid2 for my mamma never   
said more1 when  she heard me commended1
 but the girl is very  well1 and then   

endeavoured to divert my attention  by  
some inquiry after my needle1 or my     
book4    ,it is now three months since  
,i have been suffered  to pay and       
receive visits1 to dance at publick     
assemblies1 to have a place kept for me 
in the boxes1  and to play at lady      
,racker's rout2 and you may  easily     
imagine what ,i think of those who have 
so  long cheated me with false          
expectations1 disturbed  me with        
fictitious terrours1 and concealed from 
me  all that ,i have found to make the  
happiness of  woman4    ,i am so far    
from perceiving the usefulness or       
necessity of books1 that if ,i had not  
dropped all  pretensions to learning1 ,i
 should have lost ,mr4  ,trip1 whom ,i  
once frighted into another box1 by      
retailing some of ,dryden's remarks upon
 a tragedy2  for ,mr4 ,trip declares1   
that he hates nothing like hard  words1 
and ,i am sure1 there is not a better   
partner  to be found2 his very walk is a
 dance4  ,i have talked  once or twice  

among ladies about principles and       
ideas1 but they put their fans before   
their faces1 and  told me ,i was too    
wise for them1 who for their part  never
 pretended to read any thing but the    
play-bill1  and then asked me the price 
of my best head4    ,those vacancies of 
time which are to be filled up  with    
books ,i have never yet obtained2 for1  
consider1  ,mr4 ,rambler1 ,i go to bed  
late1 and therefore cannot  rise early2 
as soon as ,i am up1 ,i dress for the   
gardens2  then walk in the park2 then   
always go to some sale  or show1 or     
entertainment at the little theatre2    
then  must be dressed for dinner2 then  
must pay my  visits2 then walk in the   
park2 then hurry to the  play2 and from 
thence to the card-table4  ,this is the 
general course of the day1 when there   
happens nothing  extraordinary2 but     
sometimes ,i ramble into the  country1  
and come back again to a ball2 sometimes
  ,i am engaged for a whole day and part
 of the night4  ,if1 at any time1 ,i can

 gain an hour by not being at  home1 ,i 
have so many things to do1 so many      
orders  to give to the milliner1 so many
 alterations to make  in my clothes1 so 
many visitants' names to read over1  so 
many invitations to accept or refuse1 so
 many  cards to write1 and so many      
fashions to consider1  that ,i am lost  
in confusion1 forced at last to let in  
company or step into my chair1 and leave
 half my  affairs to the direction of my
 maid4    ,this is the round of my day2 
and when shall ,i  either stop my       
course1 or so change it as to want a    
book8  ,i suppose it cannot be imagined1
 that any  of these diversions will soon
 be at an end4  ,there  will always be  
gardens1 and a park1 and auctions1  and 
shows1 and playhouses1 and cards2 visits
 will  always be paid1 and clothes      
always be worn2 and how  can ,i have    
time unemployed upon my hands8    ,but  
,i am most at a loss to guess for what  
purpose they related such tragick       
stories of the cruelty1  perfidy1 and   

artifices of men1 who1 if they ever were
  so malicious and destructive1 have    
certainly now  reformed their manners4  
,i have not1 since my entrance  into the
 world1 found one who does not profess  
himself devoted to my service1 and ready
 to  live or die as ,i shall command    
him4  ,they are so far  from intending  
to hurt me1 that their only contention  
is1 who shall be allowed most closely to
 attend1  and most frequently to treat  
me2 when different  places of           
entertainment1 or schemes of pleasure   
are  mentioned1 ,i can see the eye      
sparkle and the cheeks  glow of him     
whose proposals obtain my approbation2  
he then leads me of in triumph1 adores  
my  condescension1 and congratulates    
himself that he  has lived to the hour  
of felicity4  ,are these1 ,mr4          
,rambler1 creatures to be feared8  ,is  
it likely that  an injury will be done  
me by those who can enjoy  life only    
while ,i favour them with my presence8  
,as little reason can ,i yet find to    

suspect them  of stratagems and fraud4  
,when ,i play at cards1 they  never take
 advantage of my mistakes1 nor exact    
from me a rigorous observation of the   
game4  ,even  ,mr4 ,shuffle1 a grave    
gentleman1 who has daughters  older than
 myself1 plays with me so negligently1  
that ,i am sometimes inclined to believe
 he loses his  money by design1 and yet 
he is so fond of play1 that  he says1 he
 will one day take me to his house in   
the  country1 that we may try by        
ourselves who can conquer4  ,i have not 
yet promised him2 but when the  town    
grows a little empty1 ,i shall think    
upon it1  for ,i want some trinkets1    
like ,letitia's1 to my watch4  ,i do not
 doubt my luck1 but must study some     
means  of amusing my relations4    ,for 
all these distinctions ,i find myself   
indebted  to that beauty which ,i was   
never suffered to hear  praised1 and of 
which1 therefore1 ,i did not before     
know the full value4  ,the concealment  
was certainly  an intentional fraud1 for

 my aunts have eyes like  other people1 
and ,i am every day told1 that nothing  
but blindness can escape the influence  
of my charms4  ,their whole account of  
that world which they  pretend to know  
so well1 has been only one fiction      
entangled with another2 and though the  
modes of life  oblige me to continue    
some appearances of respect1  ,i cannot 
think that they1 who have been so       
clearly  detected in ignorance or       
imposture1 have any right  to the       
esteem1 veneration1 or obedience of1    
,sir1 ,yours1    ,,bellaria4        ,no4
 #aib4 ,,saturday1 ,,january #ah1 #ageb 
gr ,genos ouoedeoen eioes ,erwta4,s   gr
 ,sofih1 tropos patei8tai4,s   gr ,monon
 arguron ,blepousin4   gr ',apoloito    
prw8tos auoetooes   gr ,o tooen arguron 
filhsas4   gr ,dtaoe tou8ton ouoec      
aoedelfooes1   gr ,dtaoe tou8ton ouoe   
toch8es4,s   gr ,polemoi1 fonoi dioe    
auoeton4   gr ,tooe deoe ,cei8ton1      
ooellumesqa   gr ,dtaoe touoeton oi     
filou8ntes4  ,,anacreon4 gr ,,odai1     

,ms4 #e4     ,vain the noblest birth    
would prove1   ,nor worth or wit avail  
in love2   ',tis gold alone succeeds--by
 gold   ,the venal sex is bought and    
sold4   ,accurs'd be he who first of    
yore   ,discover'd the pernicious ore6  
,this sets a brother's heart on fire1   
,and arms the son against the sire2     
,and what1 alas6 is worse than all1     
,to this the lover owes his fall4  ,f4  
,,lewis4      ,,to ,,the ,,rambler      
,,sir1    ,i ,,am the son of a          
gentleman1 whose ancestors1 for  many   
ages1 held the first rank in the        
country2  till at last one of them1 too 
desirous of popularity1  set his house  
open1 kept a table covered with         
continual  profusion1 and distributed   
his beef and ale to  such as chose      
rather to live upon the folly of others1
  than their own labour1 with such      
thoughtless liberality1  that he left a 
third part of his estate mortgaged4     
,his successor1 a man of spirit1 scorned
 to impair his  dignity by parsimonious 

retrenchments1 or to admit1  by a sale  
of his lands1 any participation of the  
rights  of his manour2 he therefore made
 another mortgage  to pay the interest  
of the former1 and pleased himself  with
 the reflection1 that his son would have
 the  hereditary estate without the     
diminution of an acre4    ,nearly       
resembling this was the practice of my  
wise progenitors for many ages4  ,every 
man boasted  the antiquity of his       
family1 resolved to support the  dignity
 of his birth1 and lived in splendour   
and  plenty at the expense of his heir1 
who1 sometimes  by a wealthy marriage1  
and sometimes by lucky  legacies1       
discharged part of the incumbrances1 and
  thought himself entitled to contract  
new debts1  and to leave to his children
 the same inheritance of  embarrassment 
and distress4    ,thus the estate       
perpetually decayed2 the woods  were    
felled by one1 the park ploughed by     
another1  the fishery let to farmers by 
a third2 at last the old  hall was      

pulled down to spare the cost of        
reparation1  and part of the materials  
sold to build a small  house with the   
rest4  ,we were now openly degraded     
from our original rank1 and my father's 
brother was  allowed with less          
reluctance to serve an apprenticeship1  
though we never reconciled ourselves    
heartily  to the sound of haberdasher1  
but always talked of  warehouses and a  
merchant1 and when the wind  happened to
 blow loud1 affected to pity the hazards
  of commerce1 and to sympathize with   
the solicitude  of my poor uncle1 who   
had the true retailer's terrour  of     
adventure1 and never exposed himself or 
his  property to any wider water than   
the ,thames4    ,in time1 however1 by   
continual profit and small  expenses1 he
 grew rich1 and began to turn his       
thoughts  towards rank4  ,he hung the   
arms of the family over  his            
parlour-chimney2 pointed at a chariot   
decorated  only with a cypher2 became of
 opinion that money  could not make a   

gentleman2 resented the petulance  of   
upstarts2 told stories of alderman      
,puff's  grandfather the porter2        
wondered that there was  no better      
method for regulating precedence2 wished
  for some dress peculiar to men of     
fashion2 and  when his servant presented
 a letter1 always inquired  whether it  
came from his brother the esquire4      
,my father was careful to send him game 
by every  carrier1 which1 though the    
conveyance often cost  more than the    
value1 was well received1 because it    
gave him an opportunity of calling his  
friends  together1 describing the beauty
 of his brother's seat1  and lamenting  
his own folly1 whom no remonstrances    
could withhold from polluting his       
fingers  with a shop-book4    ,the      
little presents which we sent were      
always  returned with great munificence4
  ,he was desirous  of being the second 
founder of his family1 and  could not   
bear that we should be any longer       
outshone by those whom we considered as 

climbers  upon our ruins1 and usurpers  
of our fortune4  ,he  furnished our     
house with all the elegance of          
fashionable expense1 and was careful to 
conceal his  bounties1 lest the poverty 
of his family should be  suspected4     
,at length it happened that1 by         
misconduct like  our own1 a large       
estate1 which had been purchased  from  
us1 was again exposed to the best       
bidder4  ,my  uncle1 delighted with an  
opportunity of reinstating  the family  
in their possessions1 came down with    
treasures scarcely to be imagined in a  
place where  commerce has not made large
 sums familiar1 and at  once drove all  
the competitors away1 expedited the     
writings1 and took possession4  ,he now 
considered  himself as superior to      
trade1 disposed of his stock1  and as   
soon as he had settled his economy1     
began  to shew his rural sovereignty1 by
 breaking the  hedges of his tenants in 
hunting1 and seizing the  guns or nets  
of those whose fortunes did not qualify 

them for sportsmen4  ,he soon afterwards
 solicited  the office of sheriff1 from 
which all his neighbours  were glad to  
be reprieved1 but which he regarded  as 
a resumption of ancestral claims1 and a 
kind of  restoration to blood after the 
attainder of a trade4    ,my uncle1     
whose mind was so filled with this      
change of his condition1 that he found  
no want of  domestick entertainment1    
declared himself too old  to marry1 and 
resolved to let the newly-purchased     
estate fall into the regular channel of 
inheritance4  ,i was therefore          
considered as heir apparent1 and        
courted with officiousness and caresses1
 by the  gentlemen who had hitherto     
coldly allowed me that  rank which they 
could not refuse1 depressed me with     
studied neglect1 and irritated me with  
ambiguous  insults4    ,i felt not much 
pleasure from the civilities for  which 
,i knew myself indebted to my uncle's   
industry1  till1 by one of the          
invitations which every  day now brought

 me1 ,i was induced to spend a week     
with ,lucius1 whose daughter ,flavilla  
,i had often  seen and admired like     
others1 without any thought  of nearer  
approaches4  ,the inequality which had  
hitherto kept me at a distance being now
 levelled1  ,i was received with every  
evidence of respect3  ,lucius  told me  
the fortune which he intended for his   
favourite  daughter2 many odd accidents 
obliged us to be  often together without
 company1 and ,i soon began  to find    
that they were spreading for me the nets
 of  matrimony4    ,flavilla was all    
softness and complaisance4  ,i1 who  had
 been excluded by a narrow fortune from 
much  acquaintance with the world1 and  
never been honoured  before with the    
notice of so fine a lady1 was  easily   
enamoured4  ,lucius either perceived my 
passion1 or ,flavilla betrayed it2 care 
was taken1 that  our private meetings   
should be less frequent1 and  my charmer
 confessed by her eyes how much pain    
she suffered from our restraint4  ,i    

renewed my visit  upon every pretence1  
but was not allowed one interview       
without witness2 at last ,i declared my 
passion  to ,lucius1 who received me as 
a lover worthy of his  daughter1 and    
told me that nothing was wanting to  his
 consent1 but that my uncle should      
settle his estate  upon me4  ,i objected
 the indecency of encroaching  on his   
life1 and the danger of provoking him by
 such  an unseasonable demand4  ,lucius 
seemed not to  think decency of much    
importance1 but admitted  the danger of 
displeasing1 and concluded that as he   
was now old and sickly1 we might without
 any in  convenience1 wait for his      
death4    ,with this resolution ,i was  
better contented1 as  it procured me the
 company of ,flavilla1 in which  the    
days passed away amidst continual       
rapture2 but  in time ,i began to be    
ashamed of sitting idle1 in  expectation
 of growing rich by the death of my     
benefactor1 and proposed to ,lucius many
 schemes of  raising my own fortune by  

such assistance as ,i knew  my uncle    
willing to give me4  ,lucius1 afraid    
lest ,i  should change my affection in  
absence1 diverted me  from my design by 
dissuasives to which my passions  easily
 listened4  ,at last my uncle died1 and 
considering  himself as neglected by me1
 from the time that  ,flavilla took     
possession of my heart1 left his estate 
to my younger brother1 who was always   
hovering  about his bed1 and relating   
stories of my pranks  and extravagance1 
my contempt of the commercial  dialect1 
and my impatience to be selling stock4  
,my condition was soon known1 and ,i was
 no longer  admitted by the father of   
,flavilla4  ,i repeated the             
protestations of regard1 which had been 
formerly  returned with so much ardour1 
in a letter which she  received         
privately1 but returned by her father's 
footman4  ,contempt has driven out my   
love1 and ,i am  content to have        
purchased1 by the loss of fortune1  an  
escape from a harpy1 who has joined the 

artifices  of age to the allurements of 
youth4  ,i am now going  to pursue my   
former projects with a legacy which  my 
uncle bequeathed me1 and if ,i succeed1 
shall expect  to hear of the repentance 
of ,flavilla4    ,i am1 ,sir1 ,yours1 c4
    ,,constantius4      ,no4 #aic4      
,,tuesday1 ,,january #ba1 #ageb         
,laudis amore tumes8 sunt certa piacula1
 quoe te   ,ter pure lecto poterunt     
recreare libella4    ,,hon4 ,lib4 i4    
,ep4 i4 #cf4       ,or art thou vain8   
books yield a certain spell   ,to stop  
thy tumour2 you shall cease to swell    
,when you have read them thrice1 and    
studied well4    ,,creech4              
,,whatever is universally desired1 will 
be  sought by industry and artifice1 by 
merit and  crimes1 by means good and    
bad1 rational and absurd1  according to 
the prevalence of virtue or vice1 of    
wisdom or folly4  ,some will always     
mistake the  degree of their own desert1
 and some will desire that  others may  
mistake it4  ,the cunning will have     

recourse to stratagem1 and the powerful 
to violence1  for the attainment of     
their wishes2 some will stoop  to theft1
 and others venture upon plunder4       
,praise is so pleasing to the mind of   
man1 that it  is the original motive of 
almost all our actions4  ,the  desire of
 commendation1 as of every thing else1  
is  varied indeed by innumerable        
differences of temper1  capacity1 and   
knowledge2 some have no higher wish     
than for the applause of a club2 some   
expect the  acclamations of a county2   
and some have hoped to fill  the mouths 
of all ages and nations with their      
names4  ,every man pants for the highest
 eminence within  his view2 none1       
however mean1 ever sinks below the  hope
 of being distinguished by his          
fellow-beings1  and very few have by    
magnanimity or piety been so  raised    
above it1 as to act wholly without      
regard to  censure or opinion4    ,to be
 praised1 therefore1 every man resolves2
  but resolutions will not execute      

themselves4  ,that  which all think too 
parsimoniously distributed to  their own
 claims1 they will not gratuitously     
squander  upon others1 and some         
expedient must be tried1  by which      
praise may be gained before it can be   
enjoyed4    ,among the innumerable      
bidders for praise1 some  are willing to
 purchase at the highest rate1 and offer
  ease and health1 fortune and life4    
,yet even of these  only a small part   
have gained what they so earnestly      
desired2 the student wastes away in     
meditation1 and  the soldier perishes on
 the ramparts1 but unless some          
accidental advantage co-operates with   
merit1 neither  perseverance nor        
adventure attracts attention1 and       
learning and bravery sink into the      
grave1 without  honour or remembrance4  
,but ambition and vanity generally      
expect to be  gratified on easier terms4
  ,it has been long observed1  that what
 is procured by skill or labour to the  
first  possessor1 may be afterwards     

transferred for money2  and that the man
 of wealth may partake all the          
acquisitions of courage without hazard1 
and all the  products of industry       
without fatigue4  ,it was easily        
discovered1 that riches would obtain    
praise among  other conveniences1 and   
that he whose pride was  unluckily      
associated with laziness1 ignorance1 or 
cowardice1 needed only to pay the hire  
of a panegyrist1  and he might be       
regaled with periodical eulogies2  might
 determine1 at leisure1 what virtue or  
science  he would be pleased to         
appropriate1 and be lulled in  the      
evening with soothing serenades1 or     
waked in the  morning by sprightly      
gratulations4    ,the happiness which   
mortals receive from the  celebration of
 beneficence which never relieved1      
eloquence which never persuaded1 or     
elegance which  never pleased1 ought not
 to be envied or disturbed1  when they  
are known honestly to pay for their     
entertainment4  ,but there are          

unmerciful exactors of  adulation1 who  
withhold the wages of venality2 retain  
their encomiast from year to year by    
general  promises and ambiguous         
blandishments2 and when  he has run     
through the whole compass of flattery1  
dismiss him with contempt1 because his  
vein of fiction  is exhausted4    ,a    
continual feast of commendation is only 
to be  obtained by merit or by wealth2  
many are therefore  obliged to content  
themselves with single morsels1  and    
recompense the infrequency of their     
enjoyment  by excess and riot1 whenever 
fortune sets the banquet  before them4  
,hunger is never delicate2 they  who are
 seldom gorged to the full with praise1 
may  be safely fed with gross           
compliments2 for the appetite  must be  
satisfied before it is disgusted4    ,it
 is easy to find the moment at which    
vanity is  eager for sustenance1 and all
 that impudence or servility  can offer 
will be well received4  ,when any one   
complains of the want of what he is     

known to possess  in an uncommon degree1
 he certainly waits with  impatience to 
be contradicted4  ,when the trader      
pretends anxiety about the payment of   
his bills1 or the  beauty remarks how   
frightfully she looks1 then is  the     
lucky moment to talk of riches or of    
charms1 of  the death of lovers1 or the 
honour of a merchant4    ,others there  
are yet more open and artless1 who1     
instead of suborning a flatterer1 are   
content to supply  his place1 and as    
some animals impregnate themselves1     
swell with the praises which they hear  
from  their own tongues4  ,recte is     
dicitur laudare sese1 cui  nemo alius   
contigit laudator4  ,it is right1 says  
,erasmus1 that he1 whom no one else will
 commend1  should bestow commendations  
on himself4  ,of all  the sons of       
vanity1 these are surely the happiest   
and greatest2 for what is greatness or  
happiness but  independence on external 
influences1 exemption  from hope or     
fear1 and the power of supplying every  

want from the common stores of nature1  
which can  neither be exhausted nor     
prohibited8  ,such is the  wise man of  
the stoicks2 such is the divinity of the
  epicureans2 and such is the flatterer 
of himself4  ,every other enjoyment     
malice may destroy2 every  other        
panegyrick envy may withhold2 but no    
human  power can deprive the boaster of 
his own encomiums4  ,infamy may hiss1 or
 contempt may growl1  the hirelings of  
the great may follow fortune1 and  the  
votaries of truth may attend on virtue2 
but  his pleasures still remain the     
same2 he can always  listen with rapture
 to himself1 and leave those who  dare  
not repose upon their own attestation1  
to  be elated or depressed by chance1   
and toil on in  the hopeless task of    
fixing caprice1 and propitiating        
malice4    ,this art of happiness has   
been long practised by  periodical      
writers1 with little apparent violation 
of  decency4  ,when we think our        
excellencies overlooked  by the world1  

or desire to recall the attention  of   
the publick to some particular          
performance1  we sit down with great    
composure and write a letter  to        
ourselves4  ,the correspondent1 whose   
character  we assume1 always addresses  
us with the deference  due to a superior
 intelligence2 proposes his doubts  with
 a proper sense of his own inability2   
offers an  objection with trembling     
diffidence2 and at last has  no other   
pretensions to our notice than his      
profundity  of respect1 and sincerity of
 admiration1 his  submission to our     
dictates1 and zeal for our success4  ,to
 such a reader1 it is impossible to     
refuse regard1  nor can it easily be    
imagined with how much alacrity  we     
snatch up the pen which indignation or  
despair  had condemned to inactivity1   
when we find such candour  and judgment 
yet remaining in the world4    ,a letter
 of this kind ,i had lately the honour  
of  perusing1 in which1 though some of  
the periods were  negligently closed1   

and some expressions of familiarity     
were used1 which ,i thought might teach 
others  to address me with too little   
reverence1 ,i was so  much delighted    
with the passages in which mention  was 
made of universal learning--unbounded   
genius--  soul of ,homer1 ,pythagoras1  
and ,plato--solidity  of                
thought--accuracy of                    
distinction--elegance  of               
combination--vigour of fancy--strength  
of  reason--and regularity of           
composition--that ,i  had once          
determined to lay it before the publick4
  ,three times ,i sent it to the        
printer1 and three times  ,i fetched it 
back4  ,my modesty was on the point of  
yielding1 when reflecting that ,i was   
about to waste  panegyricks on myself1  
which might be more profitably  reserved
 for my patron1 ,i locked it up for a   
better hour1 in compliance with the     
farmer's principle1  who never eats at  
home what he can carry to  the market4  
,no4 #aid4 ,,saturday1 ,,january #be1   

#ageb     ,si damnosa senem juvat alea1 
ludit et heres   ,bullatus1 parvoque    
eadem movet arma fritillo4    ,,juv4    
,sat4 xiv4 #d4     ,if gaming does an   
aged sire entice1   ,then my young      
master swiftly learns the vice1   ,and  
shakes in hanging sleeves the little box
 and dice4    ,j4 ,,dryden1 jun4        
,,to ,,the ,,rambler4    ,,sir1         
,,that vanity which keeps every man     
important  in his own eyes1 inclines me 
to believe that  neither you nor your   
readers have yet forgotten the  name of 
,eumathes1 who sent you a few months ago
  an account of his arrival at ,london1 
with a young  nobleman his pupil4  ,i   
shall therefore continue my  narrative  
without preface or recapitulation4      
,my pupil1 in a very short time1 by his 
mother's  countenance and direction1    
accomplished himself  with all those    
qualifications which constitute puerile 
politeness4  ,he became in a few days a 
perfect master  of his hat1 which with a
 careless nicety he could put  off or   

on1 without any need to adjust it by a  
second  motion4  ,this was not attained 
but by frequent  consultations with his 
dancing-master1 and constant  practice  
before the glass1 for he had some       
rustick  habits to overcome2 but1 what  
will not time and  industry perform8  ,a
 fortnight more furnished him  with all 
the airs and forms of familiar and      
respectful  salutation1 from the clap on
 the shoulder to the  humble bow2 he    
practises the stare of strangeness1  and
 the smile of condescension1 the        
solemnity of  promise1 and the          
graciousness of encouragement1 as  if he
 had been nursed at a levee2 and        
pronounces1  with no less propriety than
 his father1 the  monosyllables of      
coldness1 and sonorous periods of       
respectful profession4    ,he           
immediately lost the reserve and        
timidity  which solitude and study are  
apt to impress upon  the most courtly   
genius2 was able to enter a crowded     
room with airy civility2 to meet the    

glances of a  hundred eyes without      
perturbation2 and address those  whom he
 never saw before with ease and         
confidence4  ,in less than a month his  
mother declared her satisfaction  at his
 proficiency by a triumphant            
observation1  that she believed         
,,nothing ,,would ,,make ,,him ,,blush4 
,the silence with which ,i was contented
 to hear  my pupil's praises1 gave the  
lady reason to suspect  me not much     
delighted with his acquisitions2 but    
she attributed my discontent to the     
diminution of  my influence1 and my     
fears of losing the patronage  of the   
family2 and though she thinks favourably
 of  my learning and morals1 she        
considers me as wholly  unacquainted    
with the customs of the polite part  of 
mankind2 and therefore not qualified to 
form  the manners of a young nobleman1  
or communicate  the knowledge of the    
world4  ,this knowledge she  comprises  
in the rules of visiting1 the history of
 the  present hour1 an early            

intelligence of the change of  fashions1
 an extensive acquaintance with the     
names  and faces of persons of rank1 and
 a frequent appearance  in places of    
resort4    ,all this my pupil pursues   
with great application4  ,he is twice a 
day in the ,mall1 where he studies the  
dress of every man splendid enough to   
attract his  notice1 and never comes    
home without some observation  upon     
sleeves1 button-holes1 and embroidery4  
,at his return from the theatre1 he can 
give an  account of the gallantries1    
glances1 whispers1 smiles1  sighs1      
flirts1 and blushes of every box1 so    
much to  his mother's satisfaction1 that
 when ,i attempted to  resume my        
character1 by inquiring his opinion of  
the  sentiments and diction of the      
tragedy1 she at once  repressed my      
criticism1 by telling me1 that she      
hoped he did not go to lose his time in 
attending  to the creatures on the      
stage4    ,but his acuteness was most   
eminently signalized  at the masquerade1

 where he discovered his acquaintance   
through their disguises1 with such      
wonderful  facility1 as has afforded the
 family an inexhaustible  topick of     
conversation4  ,every new visitor is    
informed how one was detected by his    
gait1 and  another by the swinging of   
his arms1 a third by the  toss of his   
head1 and another by his favourite      
phrase2  nor can you doubt but these    
performances receive  their just        
applause1 and a genius thus hastening to
  maturity is promoted by every art of  
cultivation4    ,such have been his     
endeavours1 and such his  assistances1  
that every trace of literature was soon 
obliterated4  ,he has changed his       
language with his dress1  and instead of
 endeavouring at purity or propriety1   
has no other care than to catch the     
reigning phrase  and current            
exclamation1 till1 by copying whatever  
is peculiar in the talk of all those    
whose birth or  fortune entitles them to
 imitation1 he has collected every      

fashionable barbarism of the present    
winter1 and  speaks a dialect not to be 
understood among those  who form their  
style by poring upon authors4    ,to    
this copiousness of ideas1 and felicity 
of  language1 he has joined such        
eagerness to lead the  conversation1    
that he is celebrated among the ladies  
as  the prettiest gentleman that the age
 can boast of1  except that some who    
love to talk themselves1 think  him too 
forward1 and others lament that1 with so
  much wit and knowledge1 he is not     
taller4    ,his mother listens to his   
observations with her  eyes sparkling   
and her heart beating1 and can  scarcely
 contain1 in the most numerous          
assemblies1  the expectations which she 
has formed for his future  eminence4    
,women1 by whatever fate1 always  judge 
absurdly of the intellects of boys4     
,the vivacity  and confidence which     
attract female admiration1  are seldom  
produced in the early part of life1  but
 by ignorance at least1 if not by       

stupidity2 for  they proceed not from   
confidence of right1 but  fearlessness  
of wrong4  ,whoever has a clear         
apprehension1  must have quick          
sensibility1 and where he has  no       
sufficient reason to trust his own      
judgment1 will  proceed with doubt and  
caution1 because he perpetually  dreads 
the disgrace of errour4  ,the pain of   
miscarriage is naturally proportionate  
to the desire  of excellence2 and1      
therefore1 till men are hardened  by    
long familiarity with reproach1 or have 
attained1  by frequent struggles1 the   
art of suppressing their  emotions1     
diffidence is found the inseparable     
associate  of understanding4    ,but so 
little distrust has my pupil of his own 
abilities1 that he has for some time    
professed himself  a wit1 and tortures  
his imagination on all occasions  for   
burlesque and jocularity4  ,how he      
supports  a character which1 perhaps1 no
 man ever assumed  without repentance1  
may be easily conjectured4  ,wit1 you   

know1 is the unexpected copulation of   
ideas1 the discovery of some occult     
relation between  images in appearance  
remote from each other2 an  effusion of 
wit1 therefore1 presupposes an          
accumulation  of knowledge2 a memory    
stored with notions1  which the         
imagination may cull out to compose  new
 assemblages4  ,whatever may be the     
native vigour  of the mind1 she can     
never form many combinations  from few  
ideas1 as many changes cannot be  rung  
upon a few bells4  ,accident may indeed 
sometimes produce a lucky parallel or a 
striking contrast2  but these gifts of  
chance are not frequent1 and he  that   
has nothing of his own1 and yet condemns
  himself to needless expenses1 must    
live upon loans or  theft4    ,the      
indulgence which his youth has hitherto 
obtained1 and the respect which his rank
 secures1 have  hitherto supplied the   
want of intellectual qualifications2    
and he imagines that all admire who     
applaud1  and that all who laugh are    

pleased4  ,he therefore  returns every  
day to the charge with increase of      
courage1 though not of strength1 and    
practises all the  tricks by which wit  
is counterfeited4  ,he lays trains  for 
a quibble2 he contrives blunders for his
 footman2  he adapts old stories to     
present characters2 he mistakes  the    
question1 that he may return a smart    
answer2  he anticipates the argument1   
that he may  plausibly object2 when he  
has nothing to reply1 he  repeats the   
last words of his antagonist1 then says1
  your humble servant1 and concludes    
with a laugh  of triumph4    ,these     
mistakes ,i have honestly attempted to  
correct2 but what can be expected from  
reason  unsupported by fashion1         
splendour1 or authority8  ,he  hears me1
 indeed1 or appears to hear me1 but is  
soon  rescued from the lecture by more  
pleasing avocations2  and shows1        
diversions1 and caresses1 drive my      
precepts from his remembrance4    ,he at
 last imagines himself qualified to     

enter the  world1 and has met with      
adventures in his first sally1  which ,i
 shall1 by your paper1 communicate to   
the  publick4    ,i am1 c4              
,,eumathes4        ,no4 #aie4 ,,tuesday1
 ,,january #bh1 #ageb                   
--------,nescit equo rudis   ,haerere   
ingenuus puer1       ,venarique timet   
doctior1   ,seu ,graeco jubeas trocho1  
,seu malis vetita legibus alea4  ,,hor4 
,lib4 iii4 ,ode xxiv4 #ed4     ,nor     
knows our youth1 of noblest race1   ,to 
mount the manag'd steed1 or urge the    
chace2   ,more skill'd in the mean arts 
of vice1   ,the whirling troque1 or     
law-forbidden dice4 ,,francis4      ,,to
 ,,the ,,rambler4    ,,sir1    ,,favours
 of every kind are doubled when they    
are speedily conferred4  ,this is       
particularly true  of the gratification 
of curiosity4  ,he that long delays  a  
story1 and suffers his auditor to       
torment himself  with expectation1 will 
seldom be able to recompense  the       
uneasiness1 or equal the hope which he  

suffers  to be raised4    ,for this     
reason1 ,i have already sent you the    
continuation of my pupil's history1     
which1 though it  contains no events    
very uncommon1 may be of use  to young  
men who are in too much haste to trust  
their own prudence1 and quit the wing of
 protection  before they are able to    
shift for themselves4    ,when he first 
settled in ,london1 he was so much      
bewildered in the enormous extent of the
 town1 so  confounded by incessant      
noise1 and crowds1 and  hurry1 and so   
terrified by rural narratives of the    
arts  of sharpers1 the rudeness of the  
populace1 malignity  of porters1 and    
treachery of coachmen1 that he was      
afraid to go beyond the door without an 
attendant1  and imagined his life in    
danger if he was obliged  to pass the   
streets at night in any vehicle but his 
mother's chair4    ,he was therefore    
contented1 for a time1 that ,i  should  
accompany him in all his excursions4    
,but his  fear abated as he grew more   

familiar with its objects2  and the     
contempt to which his rusticity exposed 
him  from such of his companions as had 
accidentally  known the town longer1    
obliged him to dissemble  his remaining 
terrours4    ,his desire of liberty made
 him now willing to  spare me the       
trouble of observing his motions2 but   
knowing how much his ignorance exposed  
him to  mischief1 ,i thought it cruel to
 abandon him to the  fortune of the     
town4  ,we went together every day  to a
 coffee-house1 where he met wits1 heirs1
 and fops1  airy1 ignorant1 and         
thoughtless as himself1 with  whom he   
had become acquainted at card-tables1   
and  whom he considered as the only     
beings to be envied  or admired4  ,what 
were their topicks of conversation1  ,i 
could never discover2 for1 so much was  
their  vivacity repressed by my         
intrusive seriousness1 that  they seldom
 proceeded beyond the exchange of nods  
and shrugs1 an arch grin1 or a broken   
hint1 except  when they could retire1   

while ,i was looking on the  papers1 to 
a corner of the room1 where they seemed 
to  disburden their imaginations1 and   
commonly vented  the superfluity of     
their sprightliness in a peal of        
laughter4  ,when they had tittered      
themselves into  negligence1 ,i could   
sometimes overhear a few syllables1     
such as--solemn rascal--academical      
airs--  smoke the tutor--company for    
gentlemen6--and  other broken phrases1  
by which ,i did not suffer my  quiet to 
be disturbed1 for they never proceeded  
to  avowed indignities1 but contented   
themselves to  murmur in secret1 and1   
whenever ,i turned my eye  upon them1   
shrunk into stillness4    ,he was1      
however1 desirous of withdrawing from   
the subjection which he could not       
venture to break1  and made a secret    
appointment to assist his  companions in
 the persecution of a play4  ,his       
footman  privately procured him a       
catcall1 on which he  practised in a    
back-garret for two hours in the        

afternoon4  ,at the proper time a chair 
was called2 he pretended  an engagement 
at lady ,flutter's1 and hastened to  the
 place where his critical associates had
 assembled4  ,they hurried away to the  
theatre1 full of malignity  and         
denunciations against a man whose name  
they  had never heard1 and a performance
 which they  could not understand2 for  
they were resolved to  judge for        
themselves1 and would not suffer the    
town to be imposed upon by scribblers4  
,in the pit1  they exerted themselves   
with great spirit and vivacity2  called 
out for the tunes of obscene songs1     
talked  loudly at intervals of          
,shakespeare and ,jonson1  played on    
their catcalls a short prelude of       
terrour1  clamoured vehemently for a    
prologue1 and clapped  with great       
dexterity at the first entrance of the  
players4    ,two scenes they heard      
without attempting  interruption2 but1  
being no longer able to restrain their  
impatience1 they then began to exert    

themselves in  groans and hisses1 and   
plied their catcalls with  incessant    
diligence2 so that they were soon       
considered by  the audience as          
disturbers of the house2 and some  who  
sat near them1 either provoked at the   
obstruction  of their entertainment1 or 
desirous to preserve  the author from   
the mortification of seeing his hopes   
destroyed by children1 snatched away    
their instruments  of criticism1 and1 by
 the seasonable vibration  of a stick1  
subdued them instantaneously to decency 
and silence4    ,to exhilarate          
themselves after this vexatious  defeat1
 they posted to a tavern1 where they    
recovered  their alacrity1 and1 after   
two hours of obstreperous  jollity1     
burst out big with enterprize1 and      
panting  for some occasion to signalize 
their prowess4  ,they  proceeded        
vigorously through two streets1 and with
  very little opposition dispersed a    
rabble of drunkards  less daring than   
themselves1 then rolled two watchmen  in

 the kennel1 and broke the windows of a 
tavern  in which the fugitives took     
shelter4  ,at last it was  determined to
 march up to a row of chairs1 and       
demolish them for standing on the       
pavement2 the  chairmen formed a line of
 battle1 and blows were  exchanged for a
 time with equal courage on both sides4 
,at last the assailants were            
overpowered1 and the  chairmen1 when    
they knew their captives1 brought  them 
home by force4    ,the young gentleman1 
next morning1 hung his  head1 and was so
 much ashamed of his outrages and       
defeat1 that perhaps he might have been 
checked in  his first follies1 had not  
his mother1 partly in pity of  his      
dejection1 and partly in approbation of 
his spirit1  relieved him from his      
perplexity by paying the damages        
privately1 and discouraging all         
animadversion  and reproof4    ,this    
indulgence could not wholly preserve him
  from the remembrance of his disgrace1 
nor at once  restore his confidence and 

elation4  ,he was for three  days       
silent1 modest1 and compliant1 and      
thought  himself neither too wise for   
instruction1 nor too  manly for         
restraint4  ,but his levity overcame    
this  salutary sorrow2 he began to talk 
with his former  raptures of            
masquerades1 taverns1 and frolicks2     
blustered when his wig was not combed   
with exactness2  and threatened         
destruction to a tailor who had         
mistaken his directions about the       
pocket4    ,i knew that he was now      
rising again above  control1 and that   
his inflation of spirits would burst    
out into some mischievous absurdity4  ,i
 therefore  watched him with great      
attention2 but one evening1  having     
attended his mother at a visit1 he      
withdrew  himself1 unsuspected1 while   
the company was engaged  at cards4  ,his
 vivacity and officiousness were  soon  
missed1 and his return impatiently      
expected2  supper was delayed1 and      
conversation suspended2  every coach    

that rattled through the street was     
expected to bring him1 and every servant
 that entered  the room was examined    
concerning his departure4  ,at last the 
lady returned home1 and was with great  
difficulty preserved from fits by       
spirits and cordials4  ,the family was  
despatched a thousand ways without      
success1 and the house was filled with  
distraction1  till1 as we were          
deliberating what further measures  to  
take1 he returned from a petty          
gaming-table1  with his coat torn and   
his head broken2 without his  sword1    
snuff-box1 sleeve-buttons1 and watch4   
,of this loss or robbery1 he gave little
 account2 but1  instead of sinking into 
his former shame1 endeavoured  to       
support himself by surliness and        
asperity4    ,he was not the first that 
had played away a few  trifles1 and of  
what use were birth and fortune if  they
 would not admit some sallies and       
expenses8  ,his mamma was so much       
provoked by the cost of  this prank1    

that she would neither palliate nor     
conceal it2 and his father1 after some  
threats of  rustication which his       
fondness would not suffer him to        
execute1 reduce the allowance of his    
pocket1 that  he might not be tempted by
 plenty to profusion4  ,this method     
would have succeeded in a place  where  
there are no panders to folly and       
extravagance1 but was now likely to have
 produced  pernicious consequences2 for 
we have discovered a  treaty with a     
broker1 whose daughter he seems         
disposed to marry1 on condition that he 
shall be supplied  with present money1  
for which he is to repay thrice  the    
value at the death of his father4       
,there was now no time to be lost4  ,a  
domestick  consultation was immediately 
held1 and he was  doomed to pass two    
years in the country2 but his  mother1  
touched with his tears1 declared1 that  
she  thought him too much of a man to be
 any longer  confined to his book1 and  
he therefore begins his  travels        

to-morrow under a ,french governour4    
,i am1 c4    ,,eumathes4        ,no4    
#aif4 ,,saturday1 ,,february #a1 #ageb  
,multa ferunt anni venientes commoda    
secum1   ,multa recedentes adimunt4---- 
,,hor4 ,de ,ar4 ,poet4 #age4     ,the   
blessings flowing in with life's full   
tide1   ,down with our ebb of life      
decreasing glide4 ,,francis4            
,,baxter1 in the narrative of his own   
life1 has  enumerated several opinions1 
which1 though he  thought them evident  
and incontestable at his first  entrance
 into the world1 time and experience    
disposed him to change4    ,whoever     
reviews the state of his own mind from  
the dawn of manhood to its decline1 and 
considers  what he pursued or dreaded1  
slighted or esteemed1  at different     
periods of his age1 will have no reason 
to imagine such changes of sentiment    
peculiar to  any station or character4  
,every man1 however careless  and       
inattentive1 has conviction forced upon 
him2 the lectures of time obtrude       

themselves upon  the most unwilling or  
dissipated auditor2 and1  by comparing  
our past with our present thoughts1  we 
perceive that we have changed our minds1
  though perhaps we cannot discover when
 the  alteration happened1 or by what   
causes it was  produced4    ,this       
revolution of sentiments occasions a    
perpetual contest between the old and   
young4  ,they  who imagine themselves   
entitled to veneration by  the          
prerogative of longer life1 are inclined
 to treat  the notions of those whose   
conduct they superintend  with          
superciliousness and contempt1 for want 
of  considering that the future and the 
past have different  appearances2 that  
the disproportion will always be  great 
between expectation and enjoyment1      
between  new possession and satiety2    
that the truth of many  maxims of age   
gives too little pleasure to be allowed 
till it is felt2 and that the miseries  
of life would be  increased beyond all  
human power of endurance1 if  we were to

 enter the world with the same opinions 
as we carry from it4    ,we naturally   
indulge those ideas that please us4     
,hope will predominate in every mind1   
till it has  been suppressed by frequent
 disappointments4  ,the  youth has not  
yet discovered how many evils are       
continually hovering about us1 and when 
he is set  free from the shackles of    
discipline1 looks abroad  into the world
 with rapture2 he sees an elysian       
region open before him1 so variegated   
with beauty1  and so stored with        
pleasure1 that his care is rather  to   
accumulate good1 than to shun evil2 he  
stands  distracted by different forms of
 delight1 and has no  other doubt1 than 
which path to follow of those  which all
 lead equally to the bowers of          
happiness4    ,he who has seen only the 
superficies of life  believes everything
 to be what it appears1 and rarely      
suspects that external splendour        
conceals any latent  sorrow or vexation4
  ,he never imagines that there  may be 

greatness without safety1 affluence     
without  content1 jollity without       
friendship1 and solitude without  peace4
  ,he fancies himself permitted to cull 
the  blessings of every condition1 and  
to leave its  inconveniences to the idle
 and the ignorant4  ,he is  inclined to 
believe no man miserable but by his own 
fault1 and seldom looks with much pity  
upon failings  or miscarriages1 because 
he thinks them willingly  admitted1 or  
negligently incurred4    ,it is         
impossible1 without pity and contempt1  
to  hear a youth of generous sentiments 
and warm  imagination1 declaring1 in the
 moment of openness and  confidence1 his
 designs and expectations2 because  long
 life is possible1 he considers it as   
certain1 and  therefore promises himself
 all the changes of happiness1  and     
provides gratifications for every       
desire4  ,he is1 for a time1 to give    
himself wholly to frolick  and          
diversion1 to range the world in search 
of  pleasure1 to delight every eye1 to  

gain every heart1 and  to be celebrated 
equally for his pleasing levities and   
solid attainments1 his deep reflections 
and his sparkling  repartees4  ,he then 
elevates his views to nobler            
enjoyments1 and finds all the scattered 
excellencies  of the female world united
 in a woman1 who prefers  his addresses 
to wealth and titles2 he is afterwards  
to engage in business1 to dissipate     
difficulty1 and  overpower opposition3  
to climb1 by the mere force  of merit1  
to fame and greatness2 and reward all   
those  who countenanced his rise1 or    
paid due regard to  his early           
excellence4  ,at last he will retire in 
peace  and honour2 contract his views to
 domestick pleasures2  form the manners 
of children like himself2  observe how  
every year expands the beauty of his    
daughters1 and how his sons catch ardour
 from their  father's history2 he will  
give laws to the neighbourhood2  dictate
 axioms to posterity2 and leave the     
world an example of wisdom and          

happiness4    ,with hopes like these1 he
 sallies jocund into life2  to little   
purpose is he told1 that the condition  
of  humanity admits no pure and         
unmingled happiness2  that the exuberant
 gaiety of youth ends in poverty  or    
disease2 that uncommon qualifications   
and  contrarieties of excellence1       
produce envy equally with  applause2    
that whatever admiration and fondness   
may promise him1 he must marry a wife   
like the  wives of others1 with some    
virtues and some faults1  and be as     
often disgusted by her vices1 as        
delighted  by her elegance2 that if he  
adventures into the circle  of action1  
he must expect to encounter men as      
artful1 as daring1 as resolute as       
himself2 that of his  children1 some may
 be deformed1 and others vicious2  some 
may disgrace him by their follies1 some 
offend  him by their insolence1 and some
 exhaust him by  their profusion4  ,he  
hears all this with obstinate           
incredulity1 and wonders by what        

malignity old age  is influenced1 that  
it cannot forbear to fill his ears  with
 predictions of misery4    ,among other 
pleasing errours of young minds1  is the
 opinion of their own importance4  ,he  
that has  not yet remarked1 how little  
attention his contemporaries  can spare 
from their own affairs1 conceives  all  
eyes turned upon himself1 and imagines  
every  one that approaches him to be an 
enemy or a  follower1 an admirer or a   
spy4  ,he therefore considers  his fame 
as involved in the event of every       
action4  ,many of the virtues and vices 
of youth proceed  from this quick sense 
of reputation4  ,this it is that  gives 
firmness and constancy1 fidelity1 and   
disinterestedness1  and it is this that 
kindles resentment for  slight injuries1
 and dictates all the principles of     
sanguinary honour4    ,but as time      
brings him forward into the world1  he  
soon discovers that he only shares fame 
or reproach  with innumerable partners2 
that he is left  unmarked in the        

obscurity of the crowd2 and that  what  
he does1 whether good or bad1 soon gives
 way  to new objects of regard4  ,he    
then easily sets  himself free from the 
anxieties of reputation1 and  considers 
praise or censure as a transient breath1
 which1  while he hears it1 is passing  
away1 without any  lasting mischief or  
advantage4    ,in youth1 it is common to
 measure right and  wrong by the opinion
 of the world1 and1 in age1 to  act     
without any measure but interest1 and to
 lose  shame without substituting       
virtue4    ,such is the condition of    
life1 that something is  always wanting 
to happiness4  ,in youth1 we have  warm 
hopes1 which are soon blasted by        
rashness and  negligence1 and great     
designs1 which are defeated  by         
inexperience4  ,in age1 we have         
knowledge and  prudence without spirit  
to exert1 or motives to  prompt them2 we
 are able to plan schemes and  regulate 
measures1 but have not time remaining to
  bring them to completion4        ,no4 

#aig4 ,,tuesday1 ,,february #d1 #ageb   
,cujus vulturis hoc erit cadaver8       
,,mart4 ,lib4 vi4 ,ep4 lxii4 #d4        
,say1 to what vulture's share this      
carcase falls8  ,f4 ,,lewis4      ,,to  
,,the ,,rambler4    ,,sir1    ,i        
,,belong to an order of mankind1        
considerable  at least for their number1
 to which your notice  has never been   
formally extended1 though equally       
entitled to regard with those triflers1 
who have  hitherto supplied you with    
topicks of amusement  or instruction4   
,i am1 ,mr4 ,rambler1 a legacy-hunter2  
and1 as every man is willing to think   
well of the  tribe in which his name is 
registered1 you will  forgive my vanity1
 if ,i remind you that the legacy-      
hunter1 however degraded by an          
ill-compounded  appellation in our      
barbarous language1 was known1 as  ,i am
 told1 in ancient ,rome1 by the sonorous
 titles  of ,captator and ,haeredipeta4 
,my father was an attorney in the       
country1 who  married his master's      

daughter in hopes of a fortune  which he
 did not obtain1 having been1 as he     
afterwards  discovered1 chosen by her   
only because she  had no better offer1  
and was afraid of service4  ,i was  the 
first offspring of a marriage1 thus     
reciprocally  fraudulent1 and therefore 
could not be expected to  inherit much  
dignity or generosity1 and if ,i had    
them not from nature1 was not likely    
ever to attain  them2 for1 in the years 
which ,i spent at home1 ,i  never heard 
any reason for action or forbearance1   
but  that we should gain money or lose  
it2 nor was  taught any other style of  
commendation1 than that  ,mr4 ,sneaker  
is a warm man1 ,mr4 ,gripe has done  his
 business1 and needs care for nobody4   
,my parents1 though otherwise not great 
philosophers1  knew the force of early  
education1 and took  care that the blank
 of my understanding should be  filled  
with impressions of the value of money4 
,my  mother used1 upon all occasions1 to
 inculcate some  salutary axioms1 such  

as might incite me to ,,keep  ,,what ,i 
,,had1 ,,and ,,get ,,what ,i ,,could2   
she informed me  that we were in a      
world1 where ,,all ,,must ,,catch ,,that
  ,,catch ,,can2 and as ,i grew up1     
stored my memory  with deeper           
observations2 restrained me from the    
usual puerile expenses1 by remarking    
that ,,many ,a  ,,little ,,made ,a      
,,mickle2 and1 when ,i envied the finery
  of my neighbours1 told me that ,,brag 
,,was ,a ,,good  ,,dog1 ,,but ,,holdfast
 ,,was ,a ,,better4    ,i was soon      
sagacious enough to discover that ,i    
was not born to great wealth2 and having
 heard no  other name for happiness1 was
 sometimes inclined  to repine at my    
condition4  ,but my mother always       
relieved me1 by saying1 that there was  
money enough  in the family1 that ,,it  
,,was ,,good ,,to ,,be ,,of ,,kin ,,to  
,,means1  that ,i had nothing to do but 
to please my friends1  and ,i might come
 to hold up my head with the  best      
squire in the country4    ,these        

splendid expectations arose from our    
alliance to three persons of            
considerable fortune4  ,my  mother's    
aunt had attended on a lady1 who1 when  
she died1 rewarded her officiousness and
 fidelity  with a large legacy4  ,my    
father had two relations1  of whom one  
had broken his indentures and run to    
sea1 from whence1 after an absence of   
thirty years1  he returned with ten     
thousand pounds2 and the  other had     
lured an heiress out of a window1 who1  
dying of her first child1 had left him  
her estate1 on  which he lived1 without 
any other care than to  collect his     
rents1 and preserve from poachers that  
game which he could not kill himself4   
,these hoarders of money were visited   
and courted  by all who had any pretence
 to approach them1 and  received        
presents and compliments from cousins   
who could scarcely tell the degree of   
their relation4  ,but we had peculiar   
advantages1 which encouraged  us to     
hope1 that we should by degrees supplant

 our  competitors4  ,my father1 by his  
profession1 made  himself necessary in  
their affairs1 for the sailor and  the  
chambermaid1 he inquired out mortgages  
and  securities1 and wrote bonds and    
contracts2 and had  endeared himself to 
the old woman1 who once rashly  lent an 
hundred pounds without consulting him1  
by  informing her1 that her debtor1 was 
on the point  of bankruptcy1 and posting
 so expeditiously with  an execution1   
that all the other creditors were       
defrauded4    ,to the squire he was a   
kind of steward1 and had  distinguished 
himself in his office by his address in 
raising the rents1 his inflexibility in 
distressing the  tardy tenants1 and his 
acuteness in setting the parish  free   
from burdensome inhabitants1 by shifting
  them of to some other settlement4     
,business made frequent attendance      
necessary2  trust soon produced         
intimacy2 and success gave a  claim to  
kindness2 so that we had opportunity to 
practise all the arts of flattery and   

endearment4  ,my mother1 who could not  
support the thoughts  of losing any     
thing1 determined1 that all their       
fortunes should centre in me2 and1 in   
the prosecution  of her schemes1 took   
care to inform me that ,,nothing  ,,cost
 ,,less ,,than ,,good ,,words1 and that 
it is comfortable  to leap into an      
estate which another has got4    ,she   
trained me by these precepts to the     
utmost  ductility of obedience1 and the 
closest attention to  profit4  ,at an   
age when other boys are sporting in  the
 fields or murmuring in the school1 ,i  
was  contriving some new method of      
paying my court2  inquiring the age of  
my future benefactors2 or  considering  
how ,i should employ their legacies4    
,if our eagerness of money could have   
been  satisfied with the possessions of 
any one of my relations1  they might    
perhaps have been obtained2 but as it   
was impossible to be always present with
 all three1  our competitors were busy  
to efface any trace of  affection which 

we might have left behind2 and  since   
there was not1 on any part1 such        
superiority  of merit as could enforce a
 constant and unshaken  preference1     
whoever was the last that flattered or  
obliged1 had1 for a time1 the ascendant4
    ,my relations maintained a regular  
exchange of  courtesy1 took care to miss
 no occasion of condolence  or          
congratulation1 and sent presents at    
stated  times1 but had in their hearts  
not much esteem for  one another4  ,the 
seaman looked with contempt  upon the   
squire as a milksop and a landman1 who  
had lived without knowing the points of 
the compass1  or seeing any part of the 
world beyond the  county-town2 and      
whenever they met1 would talk  of       
longitude and latitude1 and circles and 
tropicks1  would scarcely tell him the  
hour without some  mention of the       
horizon and meridian1 nor shew him  the 
news without detecting his ignorance of 
the  situation of other countries4      
,the squire considered the sailor as a  

rude  uncultivated savage1 with little  
more of human than his  form1 and       
diverted himself with his ignorance of  
all  common objects and affairs2 when he
 could persuade  him to go into the     
field1 he always exposed him to  the    
sportsmen1 by sending him to look for   
game in  improper places2 and once      
prevailed upon him to  be present at the
 races1 only that he might shew  the    
gentlemen how a sailor sat upon a horse4
    ,the old gentlewoman thought herself
 wiser than  both1 for she lived with no
 servant but a maid1 and  saved her     
money4  ,the others were indeed         
sufficiently  frugal2 but the squire    
could not live without dogs  and horses1
 and the sailor never suffered the day  
to  pass but over a bowl of punch1 to   
which1 as he was  not critical in the   
choice of his company1 every man  was   
welcome that could roar out a catch1 or 
tell a  story4    ,all these1 however1  
,i was to please2 an arduous  task2 but 
what will not youth and avarice         

undertake8  ,i had an unresisting       
suppleness of temper1  and an insatiable
 wish for riches2 ,i was perpetually    
instigated by the ambition of my        
parents1 and assisted  occasionally by  
their instructions4  ,what these        
advantages enabled me to perform1 shall 
be told in  the next letter of1         
,yours1 c4    ,,captator4        ,no4   
#aih4 ,,saturday1 ,,february #h4 #ageb  
,nil mihi das das vivus3 dicis1 post2   
fata daturum4   ,si non es stultus1     
scis1 ,maro1 quid cupiam4  ,,mart4 ,lib4
 xi4 #fg4     ,you've told me1 ,maro1   
whilst you live1   ,you'd not a single  
penny give1   ,but that whene'er you    
chance to die4   ,you'd leave a handsome
 legacy3   ,you must be mad beyond      
redress1   ,if my next wish you cannot  
guess4 ,f4 ,,lewis4      ,,mr4          
,,rambler4    ,,sir1    ,,you1 who must 
have observed the inclination  which    
almost every man1 however unactive or   
insignificant1 discovers of representing
 his life as  distinguished by          

extraordinary events1 will not wonder   
that ,captator thinks his narrative     
important enough  to be continued4      
,nothing is more common than for  those 
to tease their companions with their    
history1  who have neither done nor     
suffered any thing that  can excite     
curiosity1 or afford instruction4  ,as  
,i was taught to flatter with the first 
essays  of speech1 and had very early   
lost every other  passion in the desire 
of money1 ,i began my pursuit  with     
omens of success2 for ,i divided my     
officiousness  so judiciously among my  
relations1 that ,i was equally  the     
favourite of all4  ,when any of them    
entered the  door1 ,i went to welcome   
him with raptures2 when he  went away1  
,i hung down my head1 and sometimes     
entreated to go with him with so much   
importunity1  that ,i very narrowly     
escaped a consent which ,i  dreaded in  
my heart4  ,when at an annual           
entertainment  they were altogether1 ,i 
had a harder task2 but  plied them so   

impartially with caresses1 that none    
could charge me with neglect2 and when  
they were  wearied with my fondness and 
civilities1 ,i was always  dismissed    
with money to buy playthings4    ,life  
cannot be kept at a stand3 the years of 
innocence and prattle were soon at an   
end1 and other  qualifications were     
necessary to recommend me to            
continuance of kindness4  ,it luckily   
happened that  none of my friends had   
high notions of book-learning4  ,the    
sailor hated to see tall boys shut up in
 a  school1 when they might more        
properly be seeing  the world1 and      
making their fortunes2 and was of       
opinion1 that when the first rules of   
arithmetick  were known1 all that was   
necessary to make a man  complete might 
be learned on ship-board4  ,the squire  
only insisted1 that so much scholarship 
was  indispensibly necessary1 as might  
confer ability to draw  a lease and read
 the court hands2 and the old           
chambermaid declared loudly her contempt

 of books1  and her opinion that they   
only took the head off6  the main       
chance4    ,to unite1 as well as we     
could1 all their systems1  ,i was bred  
at home4  ,each was taught to believe1  
that ,i followed his directions1 and ,i 
gained likewise1  as my mother observed1
 this advantage1 that  ,i was always in 
the way2 for she had known many         
favourite children sent to schools or   
academies1 and  forgotten4    ,as ,i    
grew fitter to be trusted to my own     
discretion1 ,i was often despatched upon
 various  pretences to visit my         
relations1 with directions from  my     
parents how to ingratiate myself1 and   
drive  away competitors4    ,i was from 
my infancy1 considered by the sailor  as
 a promising genius1 because ,i liked   
punch better  than wine2 and ,i took    
care to improve this  prepossession by  
continual inquiries about the art of    
navigation1 the degree of heat and cold 
in different  climates1 the profits of  
trade1 and the dangers of  shipwreck4   

,i admired the courage of the seamen1   
and gained his heart by importuning him 
for a recital  of his adventures1 and a 
sight of his foreign curiosities4  ,i   
listened with an appearance of close    
attention  to stories which ,i could    
already repeat1 and at the  close never 
failed to express my resolution to visit
  distant countries1 and my contempt of 
the cowards  and drones that spend all  
their lives in their native  parish2    
though ,i had in reality no desire of   
any thing  but money1 nor ever felt the 
stimulations of curiosity  or ardour of 
adventure1 but would contentedly  have  
passed the years of ,nestor in receiving
 rents1  and lending upon mortgages4    
,the squire ,i was able to please with  
less  hypocrisy1 for ,i really thought  
it pleasant enough to kill  the game and
 eat it4  ,some arts of falsehood1      
however1  the hunger of gold persuaded  
me to practise1  by which1 though no    
other mischief was produced1  the purity
 of my thoughts was vitiated1 and the   

reverence for truth gradually destroyed4
  ,i sometimes  purchased fish1 and     
pretended to have caught them2  ,i hired
 the countrymen to shew me partridges1  
and  then gave my uncle intelligence of 
their haunt2 ,i  learned the seats of   
hares at night1 and discovered  them in 
the morning with a sagacity that raised 
the  wonder and envy of old sportsmen4  
,one only  obstruction to the           
advancement of my reputation ,i  could  
never fully surmount2 ,i was naturally a
 coward1  and was therefore always left 
shamefully behind1  when there was a    
necessity to leap a hedge1 to  swim a   
river1 or force the horses to the utmost
 speed2  but as these exigencies did not
 frequently happen1  ,i maintained my   
honour with sufficient success1 and  was
 never left out of a hunting party4     
,the old chambermaid was not so         
certainly1 nor so  easily pleased1 for  
she had no predominant passion  but     
avarice1 and was therefore cold and     
inaccessible4  ,she had no conception of

 any virtue in a young man  but that of 
saving his money4  ,when she heard of my
  exploits in the field1 she would shake
 her head1  inquire how much ,i should  
be the richer for all my  performances1 
and lament that such sums should be     
spent upon dogs and horses4  ,if the    
sailor told her of  my inclination to   
travel1 she was sure there was no  place
 like ,england1 and could not imagine   
why any  man that can live in his own   
country should leave  it4  ,this sullen 
and frigid being ,i found means1        
however1 to propitiate by frequent      
commendations of  frugality1 and        
perpetual care to avoid expense4        
,from the sailor was our first and most 
considerable expectation2 for he was    
richer than the  chambermaid and older  
than the squire4  ,he was so  awkward   
and bashful among women1 that we        
concluded  him secure from matrimony2   
and the noisy  fondness with which he   
used to welcome me to his  house1 made  
us imagine that he would look out for   

no other heir1 and that we had nothing  
to do but  wait patiently for his death4
  ,but in the midst of our  triumph1 my 
uncle saluted us one morning with a cry 
of transport1 and1 clapping his hand    
hard on my shoulder1  told me1 ,i was a 
happy fellow to have a friend  like him 
in the world1 for he came to fit me out 
for  a voyage with one of his old       
acquaintances4  ,i turned  pale1 and    
trembled2 my father told him1 that he   
believed my constitution not fitted to  
the sea2 and my  mother1 bursting into  
tears1 cried out1 that her heart  would 
break if she lost me4  ,all this had no 
effect2  the sailor was wholly          
insusceptive of the softer  passions1   
and1 without regard to tears or         
arguments1  persisted in his resolution 
to make me a man4    ,we were obliged to
 comply in appearance1 and  preparations
 were accordingly made4  ,i took leave  
of  my friends with great alacrity1     
proclaimed the  beneficence of my uncle 
with the highest strains of  gratitude1 

and rejoiced at the opportunity now put 
into  my hands of gratifying my thirst  
of knowledge4  ,but1 a week before the  
day appointed for my departure1  ,i fell
 sick by my mother's direction1 and     
refused all food but what she privately 
brought me2  whenever my uncle visited  
me ,i was lethargick or  delirious1 but 
took care in my raving fits to talk     
incessantly of travel and merchandize4  
,the room was  kept dark2 the table was 
filled with vials and  gallipots2 my    
mother was with difficulty persuaded not
  to endanger her life with nocturnal   
attendance2 my  father lamented the loss
 of the profits of the voyage2  and such
 superfluity of artifices was employed1 
as  perhaps might have discovered the   
cheat to a man  of penetration4  ,but   
the sailor1 unacquainted with           
subtilties and stratagems1 was easily   
deluded2 and  as the ship could not stay
 for my recovery1 sold  the cargo1 and  
left me to re-establish my health at    
leisure4    ,i was sent to regain my    

flesh in a purer air1 lest it  should   
appear never to have been wasted1 and in
  two months returned to deplore my     
disappointment4  ,my uncle pitied my    
dejection1 and bid me prepare  myself   
against next year1 for no land-lubber   
should  touch his money4    ,a reprieve 
however was obtained1 and perhaps  some 
new stratagem might have succeeded      
another  spring2 but my uncle unhappily 
made amorous  advances to my mother's   
maid1 who1 to promote so  advantageous a
 match1 discovered the secret with      
which only she had been entrusted4  ,he 
stormed1  and raved1 and declaring that 
he would have heirs  of his own1 and not
 give his substance to cheats and       
cowards1 married the girl in two days1  
and has now  four children4             
,cowardice is always scorned1 and deceit
 universally  detested4  ,i found my    
friends1 if not wholly  alienated1 at   
least cooled in their affection2 the    
squire1  though he did not wholly       
discard me1 was less fond1  and often   

inquired when ,i would go to sea4  ,i   
was  obliged to bear his insults1 and   
endeavoured to  rekindle his kindness by
 assiduity and respect2 but all  my care
 was vain2 he died without a will1 and  
the  estate devolved to the legal heir4 
,thus has the folly of my parents       
condemned me  to spend in flattery and  
attendance those years in  which ,i     
might have been qualified to place      
myself  above hope or fear4  ,i am      
arrived at manhood without  any useful  
art1 or generous sentiment2 and1 if  the
 old woman should likewise at last      
deceive me1  am in danger at once of    
beggary and ignorance4    ,i am1 c4     
,,captator4        ,no4 #aii4 ,,tuesday1
 ,,february #aa1 #ageb     ,decolor1    
obscurus1 vilis4  ,non ille repexam     
,caesariem ,regum1 nec candida virginis 
ornat   ,colla1 nec insigni splendet per
 cingula morsu4   ,sed nova si nigri    
videas miracula saxi1   ,tum pulcros    
superat cultus1 et quidquid ,eois       
,indus litoribus rubra scrutatur in     

alga4    ,,claudianus1 xlviii4 #aj4     
,obscure1 upris'd1 and dark1 the magnet 
lies1   ,nor lures the search of        
avaricious eyes1   ,nor binds the neck1 
nor sparkles in the hair1   ,nor        
dignifies the great1 nor decks the fair4
   ,but search the wonders of the dusky 
stone1   ,and own all glories of the    
mine outdone1   ,each grace of form1    
each ornament of state1   ,that decks   
the fair1 or dignifies the great4       
,,to ,,the ,,rambler4    ,,sir1         
,,though you have seldom digressed from 
moral subjects1 ,i suppose you are not  
so rigorous  or cynical as to deny the  
value or usefulness  of natural         
philosophy2 or to have lived in this age
  of inquiry and experiment1 without any
 attention to  the wonders every day    
produced by the pokers  of magnetism and
 the wheels of electricity4  ,at  least1
 ,i may be allowed to hope that1 since  
nothing  is more contrary to moral      
excellence than envy1  you will not     
refuse to promote the happiness of      

others1 merely because you cannot       
partake of their  enjoyments4    ,in    
confidence1 therefore1 that your        
ignorance has  not made you an enemy to 
knowledge1 ,i offer you  the honour of  
introducing to the notice of the        
publick1 an adept1 who1 having long     
laboured for the  benefit of mankind1 is
 not willing1 like too many of  his     
predecessors1 to conceal his secrets in 
the grave4    ,many have signalized     
themselves by melting their  estates in 
crucibles4  ,i was born to no fortune1  
and  therefore had only my mind and body
 to devote to  knowledge1 and the       
gratitude of posterity will attest1     
that neither mind nor body have been    
spared4  ,i have sat whole weeks without
 sleep by the side  of an athanor1 to   
watch the moment of projection2  ,i have
 made the first experiment in nineteen  
diving  engines of new construction2 ,i 
have fallen eleven  times speechless    
under the shock of electricity2 ,i  have
 twice dislocated my limbs1 and once    

fractured  my skull1 in essaying to     
flyc2 and four times  endangered my life
 by submitting to the transfusion of    
blood4       c ,in the sixth chapter of 
,rasselas we have an excellent story  of
 an experimentalist in the art of       
flying4  ,dr4 ,johnson sketched  perhaps
 from life1 for we are informed that he 
once lodged in the  same house with a   
man who broke his legs in the daring    
attempt4      ,in the first period of my
 studies1 ,i exerted the  powers of my  
body more than those of my mind1  and   
was not without hopes that fame might be
  purchased by a few broken bones       
without the toil of  thinking2 but      
having been shattered by some violent   
experiments1 and constrained to confine 
myself to  my books1 ,i passed six and  
thirty years in searching  the treasures
 of ancient wisdom1 but am at last amply
  recompensed for all my perseverance4  
,the curiosity of the present race of   
philosophers1  having been long         
exercised upon electricity1 has been    

lately transformed to magnetism2 the    
qualities of  the loadstone have been   
investigated1 if not with  much         
advantage1 yet with great applause2 and 
as the  highest praise of art is to     
imitate nature1 ,i hope no  man will    
think the makers of artificial magnets  
celebrated or reverenced above their    
deserts4    ,i have for some time       
employed myself in the same  practice1  
but with deeper knowledge and more      
extensive  views4  ,while my            
contemporaries were touching  needles   
and raising weights1 or busying         
themselves  with inclination and        
variation1 ,i have been  examining those
 qualities of magnetism which may be    
applied to the accommodation and        
happiness of common  life4  ,i have left
 to inferior understandings the  care of
 conducting the sailor through the      
hazards of  the ocean1 and reserve to   
myself the more difficult  and          
illustrious province of preserving the  
connubial  compact from violation1 and  

setting mankind free for  ever from the 
danger of suppositious children1 and the
  torment of fruitless vigilance and    
anxious suspicion4    ,to defraud any   
man of his due praise is unworthy  of a 
philosopher2 ,i shall therefore openly  
confess1  that ,i owe the first hint of 
this inestimable secret  to the ,rabbi  
,abraham ,ben ,hannase1 who1 in his     
treatise of precious stones1 has left   
this account of  the magnet3  hb        
atymalqh1 c4  ,the calamita1 or         
loadstone that attracts iron1 produces  
many bad  fantasies in man4  ,women fly 
from this stone4  ,if  therefore any    
husband be disturbed with jealousy1 and 
fear  lest his wife converses with other
 men1 let him lay  this stone upon her  
while she is asleep4  ,if she be pure1  
she will1 when she wakes1 clasp her     
husband fondly in  her arms2 but if she 
be guilty1 she will fall out of  bed1   
and run away4    ,when ,i first read    
this wonderful passage1 ,i could  not   
easily conceive why it had remained     

hitherto  unregarded in such a zealous  
competition for  magnetical fame4  ,i   
would surely be unjust to suspect  that 
any of the candidates are strangers to  
the name  or works of ,rabbi ,abraham1  
or to conclude1 from  a late edict of   
the ,royal ,society in favour of the    
,english language1 that philosophy and  
literature  are no longer to act in     
concert4  ,yet1 how should a  quality so
 useful escape promulgation1 but by the 
obscurity of the language in which it   
was delivered8  ,why are footmen and    
chambermaids paid on every  side for    
keeping secrets1 which no caution nor   
expense  could secure from the all      
penetrating magnet8  ,or1 why are so    
many witnesses summoned1 and so  many   
artifices practised1 to discover what so
 easy an  experiment would infallibly   
reveal8    ,full of this perplexity1 ,i 
read the lines of ,abraham  to a friend1
 who advised me not to expose my  life  
by a mad indulgence of the love of fame2
 he  warned me by the fate of ,orpheus1 

that knowledge  or genius could give no 
protection to the invader of  female    
prerogatives2 assured me that neither   
the  armour of ,achilles1 nor the       
antidote of ,mithridates1  would be able
 to preserve me2 and counselled me1  if 
,i could not live without renown1 to    
attempt the  acquisition of universal   
empire1 in which the honour  would      
perhaps be equal1 and the danger        
certainly  be less4    ,i1 a solitary   
student1 pretend not to much  knowledge 
of the world1 but am unwilling to think 
it so  generally corrupt1 as that a     
scheme for the detection  of            
incontinence should bring any danger    
upon  its inventor4  ,my friend has     
indeed told me that all  the women will 
be my enemies1 and that1 however  ,i    
flatter myself with hopes of defence    
from the  men1 ,i shall certainly find  
myself deserted in the  hour of danger4 
,of the young men1 said he1 some  will  
be afraid of sharing the disgrace of    
their mothers1  and some the danger of  

their mistresses2 of those  who are     
married1 part are already convinced of  
the  falsehood of their wives1 and part 
shut their eyes to  avoid conviction2   
few ever sought for virtue in  marriage1
 and therefore few will try whether they
  have found it4  ,almost every man is  
careless or  timorous1 and to trust is  
easier and safer than to  examine4      
,these observations discouraged me1 till
 ,i began  to consider what reception ,i
 was likely to find among  the ladies1  
whom ,i have reviewed under the three   
classes of maids1 wives1 and widows1 and
 cannot but  hope that ,i may obtain    
some countenance among  them4  ,the     
single ladies ,i suppose universally    
ready  to patronise my method1 by which 
connubial wickedness  may be detected1  
since no woman marries with  a previous 
design to be unfaithful to her husband4 
,and to keep them steady in my cause1 ,i
 promise  never to sell one of my       
magnets to a man who  steals a girl from
 school2 marries a woman of forty  years

 younger than himself2 or employs the   
authority  of parents to obtain a wife  
without her own  consent4    ,among the 
married ladies1 notwithstanding the     
insinuations of slander1 yet ,i resolve 
to believe1 that  the greater part are  
my friends1 and am at least  convinced1 
that they who demand the test1 and      
appear on my side1 will supply1 by their
 spirit1 the  deficiency of their       
numbers1 and that their enemies  will   
shrink and quake at the sight of a      
magnet1 as  the slaves of ,scythia fled 
from the scourge4    ,the widows will be
 confederated in my favour by  their    
curiosity1 if not by their virtue2 for  
it may be  observed1 that women who have
 outlived their husbands1  always think 
themselves entitled to superintend  the 
conduct of young wives2 and as they are 
themselves in no danger from this       
magnetick trial1  ,i shall expect them  
to be eminently and unanimously  zealous
 in recommending it4    ,with these     
hopes ,i shall1 in a short time1 offer  

to  sale magnets armed with a particular
 metallick  composition1 which          
concentrates their virtue1 and          
determines their agency4  ,it is known  
that the efficacy  of the magnet1 in    
common operations1 depends  much upon   
its armature1 and it cannot be imagined1
  that a stone1 naked1 or cased only in 
a common  manner1 will discover the     
virtues ascribed to it by  ,rabbi       
,abraham4  ,the secret of this metal ,i 
shall  carefully conceal1 and1          
therefore1 am not afraid of  imitators1 
nor shall trouble the offices with      
solicitations for a patent4    ,i shall 
sell them of different sizes1 and       
various  degrees of strength4  ,i have  
some of a bulk proper  to be hung at the
 bed's head1 as scare-crows1 and  some  
so small that they may be easily        
concealed4  ,some ,i have ground into   
oral forms to be hung at  watches2 and  
some1 for the curious1 ,i have set in   
wedding rings1 that ladies may never    
want an  attestation of their innocence4

  ,some ,i can produce so  sluggish and 
inert1 that they will not act before the
  third failure2 and others so vigorous 
and animated1  that they exert their    
influence against unlawful  wishes1 if  
they have been willingly and            
deliberately  indulged4  ,as it is my   
practice honestly to tell my  customers 
the properties of my magnets1 ,i can    
judge1 by their choice1 of the delicacy 
of their  sentiments4  ,many have been  
content to spare cost  by purchasing    
only the lowest degree of efficacy1  and
 all have started with terrour from     
those which  operate upon the thoughts4 
,one young lady only  fitted on a ring  
of the strongest energy1 and  declared  
that she scorned to separate her wishes 
from  her acts1 or allow herself to     
think what she was  forbidden to        
practice4    ,i am1 c4    ,,hermeticus4 
,no4 #bjj4 ,,saturday1 ,,february #ae1  
#ageb4   ,nemo petit1 modicis quae      
mittebantur amicis   ,a ,seneca1 quae   
,piso bonus1 quae ,cotta solebat        

,largiri2 namque et titulis1 es fascibus
 olim   ,major habebatur dornandi       
gloria3 solum   ,poscimus1 ut coenes    
civiliter4  ,hoc face1 et esto1   ,esto1
 ut nunc multi1 dives tibi1 pauper      
amicis4  ,juv4 ,sat4 v4  #ajh4     ,no  
man expects 7for who so much a sot      
,who has the times he lives in so       
forgot87   ,what ,seneca1 what ,piso    
us'd to send1   ,to raise or to support 
a sinking friend4   ,those godlike men1 
to wanting virtue kind1   ,bounty well  
plac'd1 preferr'd1 and well design'd1   
,to all their titles1 all that height of
 pow'r1   ,which turns the brains of    
fools1 and fools alone adore4   ,when   
your poor client is condemn'd t' attend1
   ',tis all we ask1 to receive him as a
 friend3   ,descend to this1 and then we
 ask no more2   ,rich to yourself1 to   
all beside be poor4    ,,bowles4        
,,to ,,the ,,rambler4    ,,mr4          
,,rambler1    ,,such is the tenderness  
or infirmity of many  minds1 that when  
any affliction oppresses them1  they    

have immediate recourse to lamentation  
and  complaint1 which1 though it can    
only be allowed  reasonable when evils  
admit of remedy1 and then only  when    
addressed to those from whom the remedy 
is  expected1 yet seems even in hopeless
 and incurable  distresses to be        
natural1 since those by whom it is  not 
indulged1 imagine that they give a proof
 of  extraordinary fortitude by         
suppressing it4    ,i am one of those   
who1 with the ,sancho of ,cervantes1    
leave to higher characters the merit of 
suffering  in silence1 and give vent    
without scruple to  any sorrow that     
swells in my heart4  ,it is therefore   
to me a severe aggravation of a         
calamity1 when it is  such as in the    
common opinion will not justify the     
acerbity of exclamation1 or support the 
solemnity of  vocal grief4  ,yet many   
pains are incident to a man of          
delicacy1 which the unfeeling world     
cannot be  persuaded to pity1 and which1
 when they are separated  from their    

peculiar and personal circumstances1    
will  never be considered as important  
enough to claim  attention1 or deserve  
redress4    ,of this kind will appear to
 gross and vulgar  apprehensions1 the   
miseries which ,i endured in a morning  
visit to ,prospero1 a man lately raised 
to wealth by a  lucky project1 and too  
much intoxicated by sudden  elevation1  
or too little polished by thought and   
conversation1 to enjoy his present      
fortune with elegance  and decency4     
,we set out in the world together2 and  
for a long  time mutually assisted each 
other in our exigencies1  as either     
happened to have money or influence     
beyond his immediate necessities4  ,you 
know that  nothing generally endears men
 so much as participation  of dangers   
and misfortunes2 ,i therefore always    
considered ,prospero as united with me  
in the  strongest league of kindness1   
and imagined that our  friendship was   
only to be broken by the hand of  death4
  ,i felt at his sudden shoot of success

 an honest  and disinterested joy2 but  
as ,i want no part of his               
superfluities1 am not willing to descend
 from that  equality in which we        
hitherto have lived4    ,our intimacy   
was regarded by me as a dispensation    
from ceremonial visits2 and it was so   
long before  ,i saw him at his new      
house1 that he gently  complained of my 
neglect1 and obliged me to come on  a   
day appointed4  ,i kept my promise1 but 
found that  the impatience of my friend 
arose not from any desire  to           
communicate his happiness1 but to enjoy 
his  superiority4    ,when ,i told my   
name at the door1 the footman  went to  
see if his master was at home1 and1 by  
the  tardiness of his return1 gave me   
reason to suspect  that time was taken  
to deliberate4  ,he then informed  me1  
that ,prospero desired my company1 and  
shewed  the staircase carefully secured 
by mats from the  pollution of my feet4 
,the best apartments were               
ostentatiously set open1 that ,i might  

have a distant view  of the magnificence
 which ,i was not permitted to          
approach2 and my old friend receiving me
 with all  the insolence of             
condescension at the top of the stairs1 
conducted me to a back room1 where he   
told me he  always breakfasted when he  
had not great company4    ,on the floor 
where we sat lay a carpet covered  with 
a cloth1 of which ,prospero ordered his 
servant  to lift up a corner1 that ,i   
might contemplate the  brightness of the
 colours1 and the elegance of the       
texture1 and asked me whether ,i had    
ever seen any  thing so fine before8  ,i
 did not gratify his folly with  any    
outcries of admiration1 but coldly bade 
the  footman let down the cloth4    ,we 
then sat down1 and ,i began to hope that
  pride was glutted with persecution1   
when ,prospero  desired that ,i would   
give the servant leave to adjust  the   
cover of my chair1 which was slipt a    
little  aside1 to shew the damask2 he   
informed me that he  had bespoke        

ordinary chairs for common use1 but had 
been disappointed by his tradesman4  ,i 
put the chair  aside with my foot1 and  
drew another so hastily1  that ,i was   
entreated not to rumple the carpet4     
,breakfast was at last set1 and as ,i   
was not willing  to indulge the         
peevishness that began to seize me1  ,i 
commended the tea3  ,prospero then told 
me1 that  another time ,i should taste  
his finest sort1 but that  he had only a
 very small quantity remaining1 and     
reserved it for those whom he thought   
himself  obliged to treat with          
particular respect4    ,while we were   
conversing upon such subjects as        
imagination happened to suggest1 he     
frequently  digressed into directions to
 the servant that waited1  or made a    
slight inquiry after the jeweller or    
silversmith2 and once1 as ,i was        
pursuing an argument  with some degree  
of earnestness1 he started from  his    
posture of attention1 and ordered1 that 
if lord  ,lofty called on him that      

morning1 he should be  shown into the   
best parlour4    ,my patience was yet   
not wholly subdued4  ,i was  willing to 
promote his satisfaction1 and therefore 
observed that the figures on the china  
were  eminently pretty4  ,prospero had  
now an opportunity of  calling for his  
,dresden china1 which1 says he1 ,i      
always associate with my chased         
tea-kettle4  ,the cups  were brought2 ,i
 once resolved not to have looked  upon 
them1 but my curiosity prevailed4  ,when
 ,i had  examined them a little1        
,prospero desired me to set  them down1 
for they who were accustomed only to    
common dishes1 seldom handled china with
 much  care4  ,you will1 ,i hope1       
commend my philosophy1  when ,i tell you
 that ,i did not dash his baubles to    
the ground4    ,he was now so much      
elevated with his own  greatness1 that  
he thought some humility necessary to   
avert the glance of envy1 and therefore 
told me1  with an air of soft composure1
 that ,i was not to  estimate life by   

external appearance1 that all these     
shining acquisitions had added little to
 his happiness1  that he still          
remembered with pleasure the  days in   
which he and ,i were on the level1 and  
had  often1 in the moment of reflection1
 been doubtful1  whether he should lose 
much by changing his condition  for     
mine4    ,i began now to be afraid lest 
his pride should1 by  silence and       
submission be emboldened to insults     
that could not easily be borne1 and     
therefore coolly  considered1 how ,i    
should repress it without such          
bitterness of reproof as ,i was yet     
unwilling to use4  ,but he interrupted  
my meditation1 by asking leave  to be   
dressed1 and told me1 that he had       
promised  to attend some ladies in the  
park1 and1 if ,i was  going the same    
way1 would take me in his chariot4  ,i  
had no inclination to any other favours1
 and therefore  left him without any    
intention of seeing him  again1 unless  
some misfortune should restore his      

understanding4    ,i am1 c4    ,,asper4 
,though ,i am not wholly insensible of  
the  provocations which my correspondent
 has received1 ,i  cannot altogether    
commend the keenness of his  resentment1
 nor encourage him to persist in his    
resolution of breaking off all commerce 
with his old  acquaintance4  ,one of the
 golden precepts of  ,pythagoras        
directs1 that ,a ,,friend ,,should ,,not
 ,,be ,,hated  ,,for ,,little ,,faults2 
and surely he1 upon whom nothing  worse 
can be charged1 than that he mats his   
stairs1  and covers his carpet1 and sets
 out his finery to show  before those   
whom he does not admit to use it1  has  
yet committed nothing that should       
exclude him  from common degrees of     
kindness4  ,such improprieties  often   
proceed rather from stupidity than      
malice4  ,those who thus shine only to  
dazzle1 are  influenced merely by custom
 and example1 and neither  examine1 nor 
are qualified to examine1 the motives   
of their own practice1 or to state the  

nice limits  between elegance and       
ostentation4  ,they are often  innocent 
of the pain which their vanity produces1
  and insult others when they have no   
worse purpose  than to please           
themselves4    ,he that too much refines
 his delicacy will always  endanger his 
quiet4  ,of those with whom nature  and 
virtue oblige us to converse1 some are  
ignorant  of the art of pleasing1 and   
offend when they design  to caress2 some
 are negligent1 and gratify themselves  
without regard to the quiet of another2 
some1  perhaps1 are malicious1 and feel 
no greater satisfaction  in prosperity1 
than that of raising envy and  trampling
 inferiority4  ,but1 whatever be the    
motive  of insult1 it is always best to 
overlook it1 for folly  scarcely can    
deserve resentment1 and malice is       
punished  by neglectd4       d          
,garrick's little vanities are          
recognized by all in the  character of  
,prospero4  ,mr4 ,boswell informs us1   
that he never  forgave its pointed      

satire4  ,on the same authority we are  
assured1 that though ,johnson so dearly 
loved to ridicule his  pupil1 yet he so 
habitually considered him as his own    
property1  that he would permit no one  
beside to hold up his weaknesses to     
derision4        ,no4 #bja4 ,,tuesday1  
,,february #ah1 #ageb     ----,sanctus  
haberi   ,justitiaeque tenax factis     
dictisque mereris1   ,adnosco procerem4 
,,juv4 ,sat4 ,lib4 viii4 #bd4           
,convince the world that you're devout  
and true2   ,be just in all you say1 and
 all you do2   ,whatever be your birth1 
you're sure to be   ,a peer of the first
 magnitude to me4  ,,stepney4    ,,boyle
 has observed1 that the excellency of   
manufactures1 and the facility of       
labour1 would  be much promoted1 if the 
various expedients and  contrivances    
which lie concealed in private hands1   
were by reciprocal communications made  
generally  known2 for there are few     
operations that are not  performed by   
one or other with some peculiar         

advantages1 which1 though singly of     
little  importance1 would1 by           
conjunction and concurrence1 open  new  
inlets to knowledge1 and give new powers
 to  diligence4    ,there are1 in like  
manner1 several moral  excellencies     
distributed among the different classes 
of a  community4  ,it was said by       
,cujacius1 that he never  read more than
 one book by which he was not           
instructed2 and he that shall inquire   
after virtue  with ardour and attention1
 will seldom find a man  by whose       
example or sentiments he may not be     
improved4    ,every profession has some 
essential and appropriate  virtue1      
without which there can be no hope  of  
honour or success1 and which1 as it is  
more or less  cultivated1 confers within
 its sphere of activity  different      
degrees of merit and reputation4  ,as   
the  astrologers range the subdivisions 
of mankind under  the planets which they
 suppose to influence their  lives1 the 
moralist may distribute them according  

to the virtues which they necessarily   
practise1 and  consider them as         
distinguished by prudence or fortitude1 
diligence or patience4    ,so much are  
the modes of excellence settled by  time
 and place1 that men may be heard       
boasting in  one street of that which   
they would anxiously conceal  in        
another4  ,the grounds of scorn and     
esteem1  the topicks of praise and      
satire1 are varied according  to the    
several virtues or vices which the      
course of  life has disposed men to     
admire or abhor2 but he who  is         
solicitous for his own improvement1 must
 not be  limited by local reputation1   
but select from every  tribe of mortals 
their characteristical virtues1 and     
constellate in himself the scattered    
graces which  shine single in other men4
    ,the chief praise to which a trader 
aspires is that  of punctuality1 or an  
exact and rigorous observance  of       
commercial engagements2 nor is there any
 vice of  which he so much dreads the   

imputation1 as of  negligence and       
instability4  ,this is a quality which  
the  interest of mankind requires to be 
diffused through  all the ranks of life1
 but which many seem to consider  as a  
vulgar and ignoble virtue1 below the    
ambition of greatness or attention of   
wit1 scarcely  requisite among men of   
gaiety and spirit1 and sold  at its     
highest rate when it is sacrificed to a 
frolick or  a jest4    ,every man has   
daily occasion to remark what  vexations
 arise from this privilege of deceiving 
one  another4  ,the active and vivacious
 have so long  disdained the restraints 
of truth1 that promises and             
appointments have lost their cogency1   
and both parties  neglect their         
stipulations1 because each concludes    
that they will be broken by the other4  
,negligence is first admitted in small  
affairs1 and  strengthened by petty     
indulgences4  ,he that is not  yet      
hardened by custom1 ventures not on the 
violation  of important engagements1 but

 thinks himself  bound by his word in   
cases of property or danger1  though he 
allows himself to forget at what time he
  is to meet ladies in the park1 or at  
what tavern his  friends are expecting  
him4    ,this laxity of honour would be 
more tolerable1 if  it could be         
restrained to the play-house1 the       
ballroom1 or the card-table2 yet even   
there it is  sufficiently troublesome1  
and darkens those moments  with         
expectation1 suspense1 and resentment1  
which  are set aside for pleasure1 and  
from which we naturally  hope for       
unmingled enjoyment1 and total          
relaxation4  ,but he that suffers the   
slightest breach in  his morality1 can  
seldom tell what shall enter it1 or  how
 wide it shall be made2 when a passage  
is open1  the influx of corruption is   
every moment wearing  down opposition1  
and by slow degrees deluges the  heart4 
,aliger entered the world a youth of    
lively  imagination1 extensive views1   
and untainted principles4  ,his         

curiosity incited him to range from     
place to  place1 and try all the        
varieties of conversation2 his  elegance
 of address and fertility of ideas      
gained him  friends wherever he         
appeared2 or at least he found  the     
general kindness of reception always    
shown to a  young man whose birth and   
fortune give him a  claim to notice1 and
 who has neither by vice nor  folly     
destroyed his privileges4  ,aliger was  
pleased  with this general smile of     
mankind1 and was industrious  to        
preserve it by compliance and           
officiousness1  but did not suffer his  
desire of pleasing to vitiate his       
integrity4  ,it was his established     
maxim1 that a  promise is never to be   
broken2 nor was it without  long        
reluctance that he once suffered himself
 to be  drawn away from a festal        
engagement by the  importunity of       
another company4    ,he spent the       
evening1 as is usual in the rudiments   
of vice1 in perturbation and imperfect  

enjoyment1  and met his disappointed    
friends in the morning  with confusion  
and excuses4  ,his companions1 not      
accustomed to such scrupulous anxiety1  
laughed at his  uneasiness1 compounded  
the offence for a bottle1  gave him     
courage to break his word again1 and    
again  levied the penalty4  ,he ventured
 the same experiment  upon another      
society1 and found them equally  ready  
to consider it as a venial fault1 always
 incident  to a man of quickness and    
gaiety2 till1 by degrees1  he began to  
think himself at liberty to follow the  
last invitation1 and was no longer      
shocked at the  turpitude of falsehood4 
,he made no difficulty to  promise his  
presence at distant places1 and if      
listlessness happened to creep upon him1
 he would sit at  home with great       
tranquillity1 and has often sunk to     
sleep in a chair1 while he held ten     
tables in continual  expectations of his
 entrance4    ,it was so pleasant to    
live in perpetual vacancy1  that he soon

 dismissed his attention as an useless  
incumbrance1 and resigned himself to    
carelessness  and dissipation1 without  
any regard to the future  or the past1  
or any other motive of action than the  
impulse of a sudden desire1 or the      
attraction of  immediate pleasure4  ,the
 absent were immediately  forgotten1 and
 the hopes or fears felt by others1 had 
no influence upon his conduct4  ,he was 
in speculation  completely just1 but    
never kept his promise to  a creditor2  
he was benevolent1 but always deceived  
those friends whom he undertook to      
patronise or  assist2 he was prudent1   
but suffered his affairs to be          
embarrassed for want of regulating his  
accounts at  stated times4  ,he courted 
a young lady1 and when  the settlements 
were drawn1 took a ramble into the      
country on the day appointed to sign    
them4  ,he resolved  to travel1 and sent
 his chests on shipboard1  but delayed  
to follow them till he lost his passage4
  ,he was summoned as an evidence in a  

cause of great  importance1 and loitered
 on the way till the trial  was past4   
,it is said that when he had1 with great
  expense1 formed an interest in a      
borough1 his opponent  contrived1 by    
some agents who knew his temper1  to    
lure him away on the day of election4   
,his benevolence draws him into the     
commission  of a thousand crimes1 which 
others less kind or civil  would escape4
  ,his courtesy invites application2 his
  promises produce dependance2 he has   
his pockets  filled with petitions1     
which he intends some time to  deliver  
and enforce1 and his table covered with 
letters  of request1 with which he      
purposes to comply2 but  time slips     
imperceptibly away1 while he is either  
idle  or busy2 his friends lose their   
opportunities1 and  charge upon him     
their miscarriages and calamities4      
,this character1 however contemptible1  
is not  peculiar to ,aliger4  ,they     
whose activity of imagination  is often 
shifting the scenes of expectation1 are 

frequently subject to such sallies of   
caprice as make all  their actions      
fortuitous1 destroy the value of their  
friendship1 obstruct the efficacy of    
their virtues1 and  set them below the  
meanest of those that persist in  their 
resolutions1 execute what they design1  
and  perform what they have promised4   
,no4 #bjb4 ,,saturday1 ,,february #bb1  
#ageb    gr ,prooes apanta deilooes o   
penhs pragmata1  gr ,kaioe pantas       
auoetou8 catapronei8n upolambanei4  gr  
',o deoe metrioews prattwn              
periscelesteron  gr ,apanta t aoeniaraoe
 ,dampria1 peret4  ,,callimachus4       
,from no affliction is the poor exempt1 
,he thinks each eye surveys him with    
contempt2   ,unmanly poverty subdues the
 heart1   ,cankers each wound1 and      
sharpens ev'ry dart4  ,f4 ,,lewis4      
,,among those who have endeavoured to   
promote  learning1 and rectify judgment1
 it has  been long customary to complain
 of the abuse of  words1 which are often
 admitted to signify things so          

different1 that1 instead of assisting   
the understanding  as vehicles of       
knowledge1 they produce errour1         
dissention1 and perplexity1 because what
 is affirmed  in one sense1 is received 
in another4    ,if this ambiguity       
sometimes embarrasses the most  solemn  
controversies1 and obscures the         
demonstrations  of science1 it may well 
be expected to infest  the pompous      
periods of declaimers1 whose purpose  is
 often only to amuse with fallacies1 and
 change the  colours of truth and       
falsehood2 or the musical  compositions 
of poets1 whose style is professedly    
figurative1  and whose art is imagined  
to consist in distorting  words from    
their original meaning4    ,there are   
few words of which the reader believes  
himself better to know the import1 than 
of ,,poverty2  yet1 whoever studies     
either the poets or philosophers1  will 
find such an account of the condition   
expressed  by that term as his          
experience or observation will  not     

easily discover to be true4  ,instead of
 the meanness1  distress1 complaint1    
anxiety1 and dependance1  which have    
hitherto been combined in his ideas of  
poverty1 he will read of content1       
innocence1 and  cheerfulness1 of health 
and safety1 tranquillity and  freedom2  
of pleasures not known but to men       
unencumbered with possessions2 and of   
sleep that  sheds his balsamick anodynes
 only on the cottage4  ,such are the    
blessings to be obtained by the         
resignation of riches1 that kings might 
descend from  their thrones1 and        
generals retire from a triumph1  only to
 slumber undisturbed in the elysium of  
poverty4    ,if these authors do not    
deceive us1 nothing can  be more absurd 
than that perpetual contest for  wealth 
which keeps the world in commotion2 nor 
any complaints more justly censured than
 those  which proceed from want of the  
gifts of fortune1  which we are taught  
by the great masters of moral  wisdom to
 consider as golden shackles1 by which  

the wearer is at once disabled and      
adorned2 as  luscious poisons which may 
for a time please the  palate1 but soon 
betray their malignity by langour and   
by pain4    ,it is the great privilege  
of poverty to be happy  unenvied1 to be 
healthful without physick1 and  secure  
without a guard2 to obtain from the     
bounty  of nature1 what the great and   
wealthy are compelled  to procure by the
 help of artists and attendants1  of    
flatterers and spies4    ,but it will be
 found upon a nearer view1 that  they   
who extol the happiness of poverty1 do  
not  mean the same state with those who 
deplore its  miseries4  ,poets have     
their imaginations filled with  ideas of
 magnificence2 and being accustomed to  
contemplate the downfall of empires1 or 
to contrive  forms of lamentations1 for 
monarchs in distress1  rank all the     
classes of mankind in a state of        
poverty1  who make no approaches to the 
dignity of crowns4  ,to be poor1 in the 
epick language1 is only not to  command 

the wealth of nations1 nor to have      
fleets  and armies in pay4    ,vanity   
has perhaps contributed to this         
impropriety  of style4  ,he that wishes 
to become a philosopher  at a cheap     
rate1 easily gratifies his ambition by  
submitting to poverty when he does not  
feel it1  and by boasting his contempt  
of riches when he has  already more than
 he enjoys4  ,he who would shew  the    
extent of his views1 and grandeur of his
  conceptions1 or discover his          
acquaintance with  splendour and        
magnificence1 may talk like ,cowley1 of 
an  humble station and quiet obscurity1 
of the paucity  of nature's wants1 and  
the inconveniences of superfluity1  and 
at last1 like him1 limit his desires to 
five  hundred pounds a year2 a fortune1 
indeed1 not  exuberant1 when we compare 
it with the expenses of  pride and      
luxury1 but to which it little becomes a
  philosopher to affix the name of      
poverty1 since no  man can1 with any    
propriety1 be termed poor1 who  does not

 see the greater part of mankind richer 
than himself4    ,as little is the      
general condition of human life         
understood by the panegyrists and       
historians1 who  amuse us with accounts 
of the poverty of heroes  and sages4    
,riches are of no value in themselves1  
their use is discovered only in that    
which they  procure4  ,they are not     
coveted1 unless by narrow               
understandings1 which confound the means
 with the  end1 but for the sake of     
power1 influence1 and  esteem2 or1 by   
some of less elevated and refined       
sentiments1 as necessary to sensual     
enjoyment4    ,the pleasures of luxury1 
many have1 without  uncommon virtue1    
been able to despise1 even when         
affluence and idleness have concurred to
 tempt  them2 and therefore he who feels
 nothing from  indigence but the want of
 gratifications which he  could not in  
any other condition make consistent     
with innocence1 has given no proof of   
eminent  patience4  ,esteem and         

influence every man desires1  but they  
are equally pleasing1 and equally       
valuable1  by whatever means they are   
obtained2 and whoever  has found the art
 of securing them without the help  of  
money1 ought1 in reality1 to be         
accounted rich1  since he has all that  
riches can purchase to a wise  man4     
,cincinnatus1 though he lived upon a few
 acres  cultivated by his own hand1 was 
sufficiently removed  from all the evils
 generally comprehended  under the name 
of poverty1 when his reputation  was    
such1 that the voice of his country     
called him  from his farm to take       
absolute command into his  hand2 nor was
 ,diogenes much mortified by his        
residence in a tub1 where he was        
honoured with the  visit of ,alexander  
the ,great4    ,the same fallacy has    
conciliated veneration to the  religious
 orders4  ,when we behold a man         
abdicating  the hope of terrestrial     
possessions1 and precluding  himself1 by
 an irrevocable vow1 from the pursuit   

and acquisition of all that his         
fellow-beings consider  as worthy of    
wishes and endeavours1 we are           
immediately struck with the purity1     
abstraction1 and  firmness of his mind1 
and regard him as wholly  employed in   
securing the interests of futurity1 and 
devoid of any other care than to gain1  
at whatever  price1 the surest passage  
to eternal rest4    ,yet1 what can the  
votary be justly said to have  lost of  
his present happiness8  ,if he resides  
in a  convent1 he converses only with   
men whose condition  is the same with   
his own2 he has1 from the munificence   
of the founder1 all the necessaries of  
life1 and  is safe from that            
destitution1 which ,hooker declares  to 
be such an impediment to virtue1 as1    
till it be  removed1 suffereth not the  
mind of man to admit  any other care4   
,all temptations to envy and            
competition are shut out from his       
retreat2 he is not  pained with the     
sight of unattainable dignity1 nor      

insulted with the bluster of insolence1 
or the smile  of forced familiarity1 ,if
 he wanders abroad1 the  sanctity of his
 character amply compensates all other  
distinctions2 he is seldom seen but with
 reverence1  nor heard but with         
submission4    ,it has been remarked1   
that death1 though often  defied in the 
field1 seldom fails to terrify when it  
approaches the bed of sickness in its   
natural horrour2  so poverty may easily 
be endured1 while associated  with      
dignity and reputation1 but will always 
be  shunned and dreaded1 when it is     
accompanied with  ignominy and contempt4
        ,no4 #bjc4 ,,tuesday1 ,,february
 #be1 #ageb     ,cum volet illa dies1   
quae nil nisi corporis hujus   ,jus     
habett1 incerti spatium mihi finiat     
oevi4    ,,ovid4 ,met4 xv4 #hgc4        
,come1 soon or late1 death's            
undetermin'd day1   ,this mortal being  
only can decay4  ,,welsted4  ,,it seems 
to be the fate of man to seek all his   
consolations in futurity4  ,the time    

present is seldom  able to fill desire  
or imagination with immediate           
enjoyment1 and we are forced to supply  
its  deficiencies by recollection or    
anticipation4    ,every one has so often
 detected the fallaciousness  of hope1  
and the inconvenience of teaching       
himself to expect what a thousand       
accidents may  preclude1 that1 when time
 has abated the confidence  with which  
youth rushes out to take possession of  
the world1 we endeavour1 or wish1 to    
find entertainment  in the review of    
life1 and to repose upon  real facts1   
and certain experience4  ,this is       
perhaps  one reason1 among many1 why age
 delights in  narratives4    ,but so    
full is the world of calamity1 that     
every  source of pleasure is polluted1  
and every retirement  of tranquillity   
disturbed4  ,when time has supplied  us 
with events sufficient to employ our    
thoughts1  it has mingled them with so  
many disasters1 that  we shrink from    
their remembrance1 dread their          

intrusion upon our minds1 and fly from  
them as from  enemies that pursue us    
with torture4    ,no man past the middle
 point of life can sit down  to feast   
upon the pleasures of youth without     
finding  the banquet embittered by the  
cup of sorrow2  he may revive lucky     
accidents1 and pleasing  extravagancies2
 many days of harmless frolick1 or      
nights of honest festivity1 will perhaps
 recur2 or1 if  he has been engaged in  
scenes of action1 and  acquainted with  
affairs of difficulty and vicissitudes  
of fortune1 he may enjoy the nobler     
pleasure of  looking back upon distress 
firmly supported1 dangers  resolutely   
encountered1 and opposition artfully    
defeated4  ,a,eneas properly comforts   
his companions1  when1 after the        
horrours of a storm1 they have landed   
on an unknown and desolate country1 with
 the hope  that their miseries will be  
at some distant time  recounted with    
delight4  ,there are few higher         
gratifications1 than that of reflection 

on surmounted evils1  when they are not 
incurred nor protracted by our  fault1  
and neither approach us with cowardice  
nor  guilt4    ,but this felicity is    
almost always abated by the  reflection 
that they with whom we should be most   
pleased to share it are now in the      
grave4  ,a few years  make such havock  
in human generations1 that we  soon see 
ourselves deprived of those with whom we
  entered the world1 and whom the       
participation of  pleasures or fatigues 
had endeared to our remembrance4  ,the  
man of enterprise recounts his          
adventures  and expedients1 but is      
forced1 at the close of  the relation1  
to pay a sigh to the names of those     
that contributed to his success2 he that
 passes his  life among the gayer part  
of mankind1 has his  remembrance stored 
with remarks and repartees of  wits1    
whose sprightliness and merriment are   
now  lost in perpetual silence2 the     
trader1 whose industry  has supplied the
 want of inheritance1 repines in        

solitary plenty at the absence of       
companions1 with whom  he had planned   
out amusements for his latter years2    
and the scholar1 whose merit1 after a   
long series of  efforts1 raises him from
 obscurity1 looks round in  vain from   
his exaltation for his old friends or   
enemies1  whose applause or             
mortification would heighten his        
triumph4    ,among ,martial's requisites
 to happiness is1 ,res  non parta       
labore1 sed relicta1 an estate not      
gained  by industry1 but left by        
inheritance4  ,it is necessary  to the  
completion of every good1 that it be    
timely  obtained2 for whatever comes at 
the close of life will  come too late to
 give much delight2 yet all human       
happiness has its defects4  ,of what we 
do not gain  for ourselves we have only 
a faint and imperfect  fruition1 because
 we cannot compare the difference       
between want and possession1 or at least
 can derive  from it no conviction of   
our own abilities1 nor any  increase of 

self-esteem2 what we acquire by bravery 
or science1 by mental or corporal       
diligence1 comes  at last when we cannot
 communicate1 and therefore  cannot     
enjoy it4    ,thus every period of life 
is obliged to borrow its  happiness from
 the time to come4  ,in youth we have   
nothing past to entertain us1 and in    
age1 we derive  little from retrospect  
but hopeless sorrow4  ,yet the  future  
likewise has its limits1 which the      
imagination  dreads to approach1 but    
which we see to be not far  distant4    
,the loss of our friends and companions 
impresses hourly upon us the necessity  
of our own  departure2 we know that the 
schemes of man are  quickly at an end1  
that we must soon lie down in  the grave
 with the forgotten multitudes of former
  ages1 and yield our place to others1  
who1 like us1 shall  be driven a while  
by hope or fear about the surface  of   
the earth1 and then like us be lost in  
the shades  of death4    ,beyond this   
termination of our material existence1  

we are therefore obliged to extend our  
hopes2  and almost every man indulges   
his imagination with  something1 which  
is not to happen till he has changed    
his manner of being3 some amuse         
themselves with  entails and            
settlements1 provide for the            
perpetuation  of families and honours1  
or contrive to obviate the  dissipation 
of the fortunes1 which it has been their
  business to accumulate2 others1 more  
refined or  exalted1 congratulate their 
own hearts upon the  future extent of   
their reputation1 the reverence of      
distant nations1 and the gratitude of   
unprejudiced  posterity4    ,they whose 
souls are so chained down to coffers    
and tenements1 that they cannot conceive
 a state in  which they shall look upon 
them with less solicitude1  are seldom  
attentive or flexible to arguments2 but 
the votaries of fame are capable of     
reflection1 and  therefore may be called
 to reconsider the probability  of their
 expectations4    ,whether to be        

remembered in remote times be  worthy of
 a wise man's wish1 has not yet been    
satisfactorily decided2 and1 indeed1 to 
be long  remembered1 can happen to so   
small a number1 that the  bulk of       
mankind has very little interest in the 
question4  ,there is never room in the  
world for more than  a certain quantity 
or measure of renown4  ,the  necessary  
business of life1 the immediate         
pleasures or  pains of every condition1 
leave us not leisure beyond  a fixed    
proportion for contemplations which do  
not  forcibly influence our present     
welfare4  ,when this  vacuity is filled1
 no characters can be admitted into  the
 circulation of fame1 but by occupying  
the place  of some that must be thrust  
into oblivion4  ,the eye  of the mind1  
like that of the body1 can only extend  
its view to new objects1 by losing sight
 of those  which are now before it4     
,reputation is therefore a meteor1 which
 blazes a  while and disappears for     
ever2 and1 if we except  a few          

transcendent and invincible names1 which
  no revolutions of opinion or length of
 time is able to  suppress2 all those   
that engage our thoughts1 or  diversify 
our conversation1 are every moment      
hasting  to obscurity1 as new favourites
 are adopted by  fashion4    ,it is not 
therefore from this world1 that any ray 
of comfort can proceed1 to cheer the    
gloom of the  last hour4  ,but futurity 
has still its prospects2 there  is yet  
happiness in reserve1 which1 if we      
transfer our  attention to it1 will     
support us in the pains of disease1  and
 the langour of decay4  ,this happiness 
we  may expect with confidence1 because 
it is out of  the power of chance1 and  
may be attained by all that  sincerely  
desire and earnestly pursue it4  ,on    
this  therefore every mind ought finally
 to rest4  ,hope is  the chief blessing 
of man1 and that hope only is  rational1
 of which we are certain that it cannot 
deceive us4        ,no4 #bjd4           
,,saturday1 ,,february #bi1 #ageb       

,nemo tam divos habuit favintis1        
,crastinum ut possit sibi polliceri4    
,,seneca4     ,of heaven's protection   
who can be   ,so confident to utter     
this8--   ,to-morrow ,i will spend in   
bliss4  ,f4 ,,lewis4    ,,seged1 lord of
 ,ethiopia1 to the inhabitants of  the  
world3  ,to the sons of ,presumption1   
humility  and fear2 and to the daughters
 of ,sorrow1 content  and acquiescence4 
,thus1 in the twenty-seventh year of his
 reign1  spoke ,seged1 the monarch of   
forty nations1 the  distributor of the  
waters of the ,nile3  ,at length1       
,seged1 thy toils are at an end2 thou   
hast reconciled  disaffection1 thou hast
 suppressed rebellion1 thou  hast       
pacified the jealousies of thy          
courtiers1 thou  hast chased war from   
thy confines1 and erected  fortresses in
 the lands of thine enemies4  ,all who  
have  offended thee tremble in thy      
presence1 and where-  ever thy voice is 
heard1 it is obeyed4  ,thy throne is    
surrounded by armies1 numerous as the   

locusts of  the summer1 and resistless  
as the blasts of pestilence4  ,thy      
magazines are stored with ammunition1   
thy  treasures overflow with the tribute
 of conquered  kingdoms4  ,plenty waves 
upon thy fields1 and opulence  glitters 
in thy cities4  ,thy nod is as the      
earthquake  that shakes the mountains1  
and thy smile as  the dawn of the vernal
 day4  ,in thy hand is the  strength of 
thousands1 and thy health is the health 
of millions4  ,thy palace is gladdened  
by the song of  praise1 and thy path    
perfumed by the breath of  benediction4 
,thy subjects gaze upon thy greatness1  
and think of danger or misery no more4  
,why1  ,seged1 wilt not thou partake the
 blessings thou  bestowest8  ,why       
shouldst thou only forbear to rejoice   
in this general felicity8  ,why should  
thy face be  clouded with anxiety1 when 
the meanest of those  who call thee     
sovereign1 gives the day to festivity1  
and the night to peace8  ,at length1    
,seged1 reflect  and be wise4  ,what is 

the gift of conquest but safety8  ,why  
are riches collected but to purchase    
happiness8    ,seged then ordered the   
house of pleasure1 built  in an island  
of the lake of ,dambea1 to be prepared  
for  his reception4  ,i will retire1    
says he1 for ten days  from tumult and  
care1 from counsels and decrees4  ,long 
quiet is not the lot of the governours  
of nations1  but a cessation of ten days
 cannot be denied me4  ,this short      
interval of happiness may surely be     
secured  from the interruption of fear  
or perplexity1 sorrow  or               
disappointment4  ,i will exclude all    
trouble from  my abode1 and remove from 
my thoughts whatever  may confuse the   
harmony of the concert1 or abate the    
sweetness of the banquet4  ,i will fill 
the whole capacity  of my soul with     
enjoyment1 and try what it is  to live  
without a wish unsatisfied4    ,in a few
 days the orders were performed1 and    
,seged hasted to the palace of ,dambea1 
which stood  in an island cultivated    

only for pleasure1 planted with  every  
flower that spreads its colours to the  
sun1 and  every shrub that sheds        
fragrance in the air4  ,in one  part of 
this extensive garden1 were open walks  
for  excursions in the morning2 in      
another1 thick groves1  and silent      
arbours1 and bubbling fountains for     
repose  at noon4  ,all that could solace
 the sense1 or flatter  the fancy1 all  
that industry could extort from nature1 
or wealth furnish to art1 all that      
conquest could seize1  or beneficence   
attract1 was collected together1 and    
every perception of delight was excited 
and gratified4    ,into this delicious  
region ,seged summoned all the  persons 
of his court1 who seemed eminently      
qualified  to receive or communicate    
pleasure4  ,his call was  readily       
obeyed2 the young1 the fair1 the        
vivacious1  and the witty1 were all in  
haste to be sated with  felicity4  ,they
 sailed jocund over the lake1 which     
seemed to smooth its surface before     

them3 their  passage was cheered with   
musick1 and their hearts  dilated with  
expectation4    ,seged1 landing here    
with his band of pleasure1  determined  
from that hour to break off all         
acquaintance  with discontent1 to give  
his heart for ten days  to ease and     
jollity1 and then fall back to the      
common  state of man1 and suffer his    
life to be diversified1  as before1 with
 joy and sorrow4    ,he immediately     
entered his chamber1 to consider  where 
he should begin his circle of happiness4
  ,he  had all the artists of delight   
before him1 but knew  not whom to call1 
since he could not enjoy one1 but  by   
delaying the performance of another4    
,he chose  and rejected1 he resolved and
 changed his resolution1  till his      
faculties were harassed1 and his        
thoughts  confused2 then returned to the
 apartment where his  presence was      
expected1 with languid eyes and clouded 
countenance1 and spread the infection of
 uneasiness  over the whole assembly4   

,he observed their depression1  and was 
offended1 for he found his vexation     
increased by those whom he expected to  
dissipate and  relieve it4  ,he retired 
again to his private chamber1  and      
sought for consolation in his own mind2 
one  thought flowed in upon another2 a  
long succession  of images seized his   
attention2 the moments crept            
imperceptibly away through the gloom of 
pensiveness1  till1 having recovered his
 tranquillity1 he lifted  his head1 and 
saw the lake brightened by the setting  
sun4  ,such1 said ,seged1 sighing1 is   
the longest  day of human existence3    
before we have learned to  use it1 we   
find it at an end4    ,the regret which 
he felt for the loss of so great  a part
 of his first day1 took from him all    
disposition  to enjoy the evening2 and1 
after having endeavoured1  for the sake 
of his attendants1 to force an air of   
gaiety1  and excite that mirth which he 
could not share1 he  resolved to refer  
his hopes to the next morning1  and lay 

down to partake with the slaves of      
labour  and poverty the blessing of     
sleep4    ,he rose early the second     
morning1 and resolved  now to be happy4 
,he therefore fixed upon the gate  of   
the palace an edict1 importing1 that    
whoever1  during nine days1 should      
appear in the presence of  the king with
 a dejected countenance1 or utter any   
expression of discontent or sorrow1     
should be driven  for ever from the     
palace of ,dambea4    ,this edict was   
immediately made known in every  chamber
 of the court1 and bower of the gardens4
  ,mirth was frighted away1 and they who
 were before  dancing in the lawns1 or  
singing in the shades1 were at  once    
engaged in the care of regulating their 
looks1  that ,seged might find his will 
punctually obeyed1  and see none among  
them liable to banishment4    ,seged now
 met every face settled in a smile2 but 
a smile that betrayed solicitude1       
timidity1 and  constraint4  ,he accosted
 his favourites with familiarity  and   

softness2 but they durst not speak      
without  premeditation1 lest they should
 be convicted of  discontent or sorrow4 
,he proposed diversions1 to which  no   
objection was made1 because objection   
would  have implied uneasiness2 but they
 were regarded  with indifference by the
 courtiers1 who had no other  desire    
than to signalize themselves by         
clamorous  exultation4  ,he offered     
various topicks of conversation1  but   
obtained only forced jests1 and         
laborious  laughter2 and after many     
attempts to animate his  train to       
confidence and alacrity1 was obliged to 
confess to himself the impotence of     
command1 and  resign another day to     
grief and disappointment4    ,he at last
 relieved his companions from their     
terrours1 and shut himself up in his    
chamber to ascertain1  by different     
measures1 the felicity of the succeeding
  days4  ,at length he threw himself on 
the bed1  and closed his eyes1 but      
imagined1 in his sleep1 that  his palace

 and gardens were overwhelmed by an     
inundation1 and waked with all the      
terrours of a man  struggling in the    
water4  ,he composed himself again  to  
rest1 but was affrighted by an imaginary
 irruption  into his kingdom2 and       
striving1 as is usual in dreams1        
without ability to move1 fancied himself
 betrayed  to his enemies1 and again    
started up with horrour  and            
indignation4    ,it was now day1 and    
fear was so strongly  impressed on his  
mind1 that he could sleep no more4  ,he 
rose1 but his thoughts were filled with 
the deluge  and invasion1 nor was he    
able to disengage his attention1  or    
mingle with vacancy and ease in any     
amusement4  ,at length his perturbation 
gave way to reason1  and he resolved no 
longer to be harassed by visionary      
miseries2 but1 before this resolution   
could be  completed1 half the day had   
elapsed3 he felt a new  conviction of   
the uncertainty of human schemes1  and  
could not forbear to bewail the weakness

 of that  being whose quiet was to be   
interrupted by vapours  of the fancy4   
,having been first disturbed by a dream1
  he afterwards grieved that a dream    
could disturb  him4  ,he at last        
discovered1 that his terrours and  grief
 were equally vain1 and that to lose the
 present  in lamenting the past1 was    
voluntarily to protract a  melancholy   
vision4  ,the third day was now         
declining1  and ,seged again resolved to
 be happy on the morrow4        ,no4    
#bje4 ,,tuesday1 ,,march #c1 #ageb      
,volat ambiguis   ,mobilis alis hora1   
nec ulli   ,praestat velox ,fortuna     
fidem4  ,,seneca4 ,hippol4 #aada4   ,on 
fickle wings the minutes haste1   ,and  
fortune's favours never last4  ,f4      
,,lewis4    ,,on the fourth morning     
,seged rose early1 refreshed  with      
sleep1 vigorous with health1 and eager  
with  expectation4  ,he entered the     
garden1 attended by  the princes and    
ladies of his court1 and seeing  nothing
 about him but airy cheerfulness1 began 

to say to  his heart1 ,this day shall be
 a day of pleasure4  ,the sun played    
upon the water1 the birds warbled  in   
the groves1 and the gales quivered among
 the  branches4  ,he roved from walk to 
walk as chance  directed him1 and       
sometimes listened to the songs1        
sometimes mingled with the dancers1     
sometimes let  loose his imagination in 
flights of merriment2 and  sometimes    
uttered grave reflections1 and          
sententious  maxims1 and feasted on the 
admiration with which  they were        
received4    ,thus the day rolled on1   
without any accident of  vexation1 or   
intrusion of melancholy thoughts4  ,all 
that beheld him caught gladness from his
 looks1 and  the sight of happiness     
conferred by himself filled  his heart  
with satisfaction3 but having passed    
three  hours in this harmless luxury1 he
 was alarmed on a  sudden by an         
universal scream among the women1  and  
turning back saw the whole assembly     
flying in  confusion4  ,a young         

crocodile had risen out of the  lake1   
and was ranging the garden in wantonness
 or  hunger4  ,seged beheld him with    
indignation1 as a  disturber of his     
felicity1 and chased him back into  the 
lake1 but could not persuade his retinue
 to stay1  or free their hearts from the
 terrour which had seized  upon them4   
,the princesses inclosed themselves in  
the palace1 and could yet scarcely      
believe themselves  in safety4  ,every  
attention was fixed upon the late       
danger and escape1 and no mind was any  
longer at  leisure for gay sallies or   
careless prattle4    ,seged had now no  
other employment than to  contemplate   
the innumerable casualties which lie in 
ambush on every side to intercept the   
happiness of  man1 and break in upon the
 hour of delight and  tranquillity4  ,he
 had1 however1 the consolation of       
thinking1 that he had not been now      
disappointed  by his own fault1 and that
 the accident which had  blasted the    
hopes of the day1 might easily be       

prevented by future caution4    ,that he
 might provide for the pleasure of the  
next morning1 he resolved to repeal his 
penal edict1  since he had already found
 that discontent and  melancholy were   
not to be frighted away by the  threats 
of authority1 and that pleasure would   
only  reside where she was exempted from
 control4  ,he  therefore invited all   
the companions of his retreat  to       
unbounded pleasantry1 by proposing      
prizes for  those who should1 on the    
following day1 distinguish  themselves  
by any festive performances2 the tables 
of the antechamber were covered with    
gold and  pearls1 and robes and garlands
 decreed the rewards  of those who could
 refine elegance or heighten  pleasure4 
,at this display of riches every eye    
immediately  sparkled1 and every tongue 
was busied in celebrating  the bounty   
and magnificence of the emperour4  ,but 
when ,seged entered1 in hopes of        
uncommon  entertainment from universal  
emulation1 he found  that any passion   

too strongly agitated1 puts an end  to  
that tranquillity which is necessary to 
mirth1 and  that the mind1 that is to be
 moved by the gentle  ventilations of   
gaiety1 must be first smoothed by a     
total calm4  ,whatever we ardently wish 
to gain1 we  must in the same degree be 
afraid to lose1 and fear  and pleasure  
cannot dwell together4    ,all was now  
care and solicitude4  ,nothing was  done
 or spoken1 but with so visible an      
endeavour at  perfection1 as always     
failed to delight1 though it  sometimes 
forced admiration3 and ,seged could not 
but observe with sorrow1 that his prizes
 had more  influence than himself4  ,as 
the evening approached1  the contest    
grew more earnest1 and those who were   
forced to allow themselves excelled1    
began to  discover the malignity of     
defeat1 first by angry glances1  and at 
last by contemptuous murmurs4  ,seged   
likewise  shared the anxiety of the day1
 for considering  himself as obliged to 
distribute with exact justice  the      

prizes which had been so zealously      
sought1 he  durst never remit his       
attention1 but passed his  time upon the
 rack of doubt1 in balancing different  
kinds of merit1 and adjusting the claims
 of all the  competitors4    ,at last1  
knowing that no exactness could satisfy 
those whose hopes he should disappoint1 
and thinking  that on a day set apart   
for happiness1 it would  be cruel to    
oppress any heart with sorrow1 he       
declared  that all had pleased him      
alike1 and dismissed  all with presents 
of equal value4    ,seged soon saw that 
his caution had not been able  to avoid 
offence4  ,they who had believed        
themselves  secure of the highest       
prizes1 were not pleased to be  levelled
 with the crowd3 and though1 by the     
liberality of the king1 they received   
more than his  promise had entitled them
 to expect1 they departed  unsatisfied1 
because they were honoured with no      
distinction1 and wanted an opportunity  
to triumph  in the mortification of     

their opponents4  ,behold  here1 said   
,seged1 the condition of him who places 
his happiness in the happiness of       
others4  ,he then  retired to meditate1 
and1 while the courtiers were  repining 
at his distributions1 saw the fifth sun 
go  down in discontent4    ,the next    
dawn renewed his resolution to be happy4
  ,but having learned how little he     
could effect by  settled schemes or     
preparatory measures1 he thought  it    
best to give up one day entirely to     
chance1 and  left every one to please   
and be pleased his own way4    ,this    
relaxation of regularity diffused a     
general  complacence through the whole  
court1 and the emperour  imagined that  
he had at last found the secret  of     
obtaining an interval of felicity4  ,but
 as he was  roving in this careless     
assembly with equal carelessness1  he   
overheard one of his courtiers in a     
close arbour  murmuring alone3  ,what   
merit has ,seged  above us1 that we     
should thus fear and obey him1 a  man1  

whom1 whatever he may have formerly     
performed1  his luxury now shows to have
 the same  weakness with ourselves4     
,this charge affected him  the more1 as 
it was uttered by one whom he had       
always observed among the most abject of
 his flatterers4  ,at first his         
indignation prompted him to severity2   
but reflecting1 that what was spoken    
without  intention to be heard1 was to  
be considered as only  thought1 and was 
perhaps but the sudden burst of  casual 
and temporary vexation1 he invented some
  decent pretence to send him away1 that
 his retreat  might not be tainted with 
the breath of envy1 and1  after the     
struggle of deliberation was past1 and  
all  desire of revenge utterly          
suppressed1 passed the evening  not only
 with tranquillity1 but triumph1 though 
none  but himself was conscious of the  
victory4    ,the remembrance of his     
clemency cheered the  beginning of the  
seventh day1 and nothing happened  to   
disturb the pleasure of ,seged1 till1   

looking on the  tree that shaded him1 he
 recollected1 that1 under a  tree of the
 same kind he had passed the night after
  his defeat in the kingdom of ,goiama4 
,the reflection  on his loss1 his       
dishonour1 and the miseries which his   
subjects suffered from the invader1     
filled him with  sadness4  ,at last he  
shook of f the weight of sorrow1  and   
began to solace himself with his usual  
pleasures1  when his tranquillity was   
again disturbed by jealousies  which the
 late contest for the prizes had        
produced1  and which1 having in vain    
tried to pacify  them by persuasion1 he 
was forced to silence by  command4      
,on the eighth morning ,seged was       
awakened early  by an unusual hurry in  
the apartments1 and inquiring  the      
cause1 was told that the princess       
,balkis was  seized with sickness4  ,he 
rose1 and calling the  physicians1 found
 that they had little hope of her       
recovery4  ,here was an end of jollity3 
all his thoughts  were now upon his     

daughter1 whose eyes he closed  on the  
tenth day4    ,such were the days which 
,seged of ,ethiopia had  appropriated to
 a short respiration from the fatigues  
of war and the cares of government4     
,this narrative  he has bequeathed to   
future generations1 that no  man        
hereafter may presume to say1 ,this day 
shall  be a day of happiness4           
,no4 #bjf4 ,,saturday1 ,,march #g1 #ageb
     ----,propositi nondum pudet1 atque 
eadem est mens1   ,ut bona summa putes1 
aliena vivere quadra4  ,,juv4 ,sat4 v4  
#a4     ,but harden'd by affronts1 and  
still the same1   ,lost to all sense of 
honour and of fame1   ,thou yet canst   
love to haunt the great man's board1    
,and think no supper good but with a    
lord4  ,,bowles4    ,,when ,diogenes was
 once asked1 what kind of  wine he liked
 best8 he answered1 ,that  which is     
drunk at the cost of others4    ,though 
the character of ,diogenes has never    
excited any general zeal of imitation1  
there are many  who resemble him in his 

taste of wine2 many who  are frugal1    
though not abstemious2 whose appetites1 
though too powerful for reason1 are kept
 under  restraint by avarice2 and to    
whom all delicacies lose  their flavour1
 when they cannot be obtained but at    
their own expense4    ,nothing produces 
more singularity of manners  and        
inconstancy of life1 than the conflict  
of opposite  vices in the same mind4    
,he that uniformly pursues  any purpose1
 whether good or bad1 has a settled     
principle of action2 and as he may      
always find  associates who are         
travelling the same way1 is             
countenanced by example1 and sheltered  
in the multitude2  but a man1 actuated  
at once by different desires1  must move
 in a direction peculiar to himself1 and
  suffer that reproach which we are     
naturally inclined  to bestow on those  
who deviate from the rest of the  world1
 even without inquiring whether they are
  worse or better4    ,yet this conflict
 of desires sometimes produces          

wonderful efforts4  ,to riot in         
far-fetched dishes1 or  surfeit with    
unexhausted variety1 and yet practise   
the most rigid economy1 is surely an art
 which may  justly draw the eyes of     
mankind upon them whose  industry or    
judgment has enabled them to attain it4 
,to him1 indeed1 who is content to break
 open the  chests1 or mortgage the      
manours1 of his ancestors1  that he may 
hire the ministers of excess at the     
highest  price1 gluttony is an easy     
science2 yet we often  hear the votaries
 of luxury boasting of the elegance     
which they owe to the taste of others1  
relating with  rapture the succession of
 dishes with which their  cooks and     
caterers supply them2 and expecting     
their share of praise with the          
discoverers of arts and  the civilizers 
of nations4  ,but to shorten the way to 
convivial happiness1 by eating without  
cost1 is a  secret hitherto in few      
hands1 but which certainly  deserves the
 curiosity of those whose principal     

enjoyment is their dinner1 and who see  
the sun rise  with no other hope than   
that they shall fill their  bellies     
before it sets4    ,of them that have   
within my knowledge attempted  this     
scheme of happiness1 the greater part   
have been immediately obliged to desist2
 and some1  whom their first attempts   
flattered with success1  were reduced by
 degrees to a few tables1 from which    
they were at last chased to make way for
 others2  and having long habituated    
themselves to superfluous  plenty1      
growled away their latter years in      
discontented competence4    ,none enter 
the regions of luxury with higher       
expectations than men of wit1 who       
imagine1 that they  shall never want a  
welcome to that company whose  ideas    
they can enlarge1 or whose imaginations 
they  can elevate1 and believe          
themselves able to pay for  their wine  
with the mirth which it qualifies them  
to produce4  ,full of this opinion1 they
 crowd with  little invitation1 wherever

 the smell of a feast allures  them1 but
 are seldom encouraged to repeat their  
visits1 being dreaded by the pert as    
rivals1 and hated  by the dull as       
disturbers of the company4    ,no man   
has been so happy in gaining and keeping
  the privilege of living at luxurious  
houses as  ,gulosulus1 who1 after thirty
 years of continual revelry1  has now   
established1 by uncontroverted          
prescription1  his claim to partake of  
every entertainment1  and whose presence
 they who aspire to the praise  of a    
sumptuous table are careful to procure  
on a  day of importance1 by sending the 
invitation a  fortnight before4         
,gulosulus entered the world without any
 eminent  degree of merit2 but was      
careful to frequent houses  where       
persons of rank resorted4  ,by being    
often seen1  he became in time known2   
and1 from sitting in the  same room1 was
 suffered to mix in idle conversation1  
or assisted to fill up a vacant hour1   
when better  amusement was not readily  

to be had4  ,from the  coffee-house he  
was sometimes taken away to dinner2  and
 as no man refuses the acquaintance of  
him  whom he sees admitted to           
familiarity by others of  equal dignity1
 when he had been met at a few tables1  
he with less difficulty found the way to
 more1 till  at last he was regularly   
expected to appear wherever             
preparations are made for a feast1      
within the  circuit of his acquaintance4
    ,when he was thus by accident       
initiated in luxury1  he felt in himself
 no inclination to retire from  a life  
of so much pleasure1 and therefore very 
seriously considered how he might       
continue it4  ,great  qualities1 or     
uncommon accomplishments1 he did not    
find necessary2 for he had already seen 
that merit  rather enforces respect than
 attracts fondness2 and  as he thought  
no folly greater than that of losing a  
dinner for any other gratification1 he  
often congratulated  himself1 that he   
had none of that disgusting  excellence 

which impresses awe upon greatness1 and 
condemns its possessors to the society  
of those who  are wise or brave1 and    
indigent as themselves4    ,gulosulus1  
having never allotted much of his time  
to books or meditation1 had no opinion  
in philosophy  or politicks1 and was not
 in danger of injuring his  interest by 
dogmatical positions or violent         
contradiction4  ,if a dispute arose1 he 
took care to listen with  earnest       
attention2 and1 when either speaker grew
  vehement and loud1 turned towards him 
with eager  quickness1 and uttered a    
short phrase of admiration1  as if      
surprised by such cogency of argument as
 he  had never known before4  ,by this  
silent concession1  he generally        
preserved in either controvertist such  
a conviction of his own superiority1 as 
inclined him  rather to pity than       
irritate his adversary1 and  prevented  
those outrages which are sometimes      
produced  by the rage of defeat1 or     
petulance of triumph4    ,gulosulus was 

never embarrassed but when he was       
required to declare his sentiments      
before he had been  able to discover to 
which side the master of the  house     
inclined1 for it was his invariable rule
 to adopt  the notions of those that    
invited him4    ,it will sometimes      
happen that the insolence of  wealth    
breaks into contemptuousness1 or the    
turbulence  of wine requires a vent2 and
 ,gulosulus seldom  fails of being      
singled out on such emergencies1 as  one
 on whom any experiment of ribaldry may 
be  safely tried4  ,sometimes his       
lordship finds himself  inclined to     
exhibit a specimen of raillery for the  
diversion  of his guests1 and ,gulosulus
 always supplies him  with a subject of 
merriment4  ,but he has learned to      
consider rudeness and indignities as    
familiarities that  entitle him to      
greater freedom3 he comforts himself1   
that those who treat and insult him pay 
for their  laughter1 and that he keeps  
his money while they  enjoy their jest4 

,his chief policy consists in selecting 
some dish  from every course1 and       
recommending it to the company1  with an
 air so decisive1 that no one ventures  
to contradict him4  ,by this practice he
 acquires at a  feast a kind of         
dictatorial authority2 his taste        
becomes the standard of pickles and     
seasoning1 and he  is venerated by the  
professors of epicurism1 as the  only   
man who understands the niceties of     
cookery4    ,whenever a new sauce is    
imported1 or any  innovation made in the
 culinary system1 he procures the       
earliest intelligence1 and the most     
authentick  receipt2 and1 by            
communicating his knowledge under       
proper injunctions of secrecy1 gains a  
right of tasting  his own dish whenever 
it is prepared1 that he  may tell       
whether his directions have been fully  
understood4    ,by this method of life  
,gulosulus has so impressed  on his     
imagination the dignity of feasting1    
that he  has no other topick of talk1 or

 subject of meditation4  ,his calendar  
is a bill of fare2 he measures the year 
by successive dainties4  ,the only      
common-places of  his memory are his    
meals2 and if you ask him at what  time 
an event happened1 he considers whether 
he  heard it after a dinner of turbot or
 venison4  ,he  knows1 indeed4  that    
those who value themselves  upon sense1 
learning1 or piety1 speak of him with   
contempt2 but he considers them as      
wretches1  envious or ignorant1 who do  
not know his happiness1  or wish to     
supplant him2 and declares to his       
friends1  that he is fully satisfied    
with his own conduct1 since  he has fed 
every day on twenty dishes1 and yet     
doubled his estate4        ,no4 #bjg4   
,,tuesday1 ,,march #aj1 #ageb     ,solve
 senescentem mature sanus equum1 ne     
,peccet ad extremum ridendus4----       
,,hor4 ,lib4 i4 ,ep4 i4 #h4     ,the    
voice of reason cries with winning      
force1   ,loose from the rapid car your 
aged horse1   ,lest1 in the race        

derided1 left behind1   ,he drag his    
jaded limbs and burst his wind4         
,,francis4    ,,such is the emptiness of
 human enjoyment1  that we are always   
impatient of the present4  ,attainment  
is followed by neglect1 and possession  
by disgust2 and the malicious remark of 
the ,greek  epigrammatist on marriage   
may be applied to every  other course of
 life1 that its two days of happiness   
are the first and the last4    ,few     
moments are more pleasing than those in 
which the mind is concerting measures   
for a new  undertaking4  ,from the first
 hint that weakens the  fancy1 till the 
hour of actual execution1 all is        
improvement and progress1 triumph and   
felicity4  ,every  hour brings additions
 to the original scheme1  suggests some 
new expedient to secure success1 or     
discovers consequential advantages not  
hitherto  foreseen4  ,while preparations
 are made1 and materials  accumulated1  
day glides after day through elysian    
prospects1 and the heart dances to the  

song of hope4    ,such is the pleasure  
of projecting1 that many  content       
themselves with a succession of         
visionary  schemes1 and wear out their  
allotted time in the calm  amusement of 
contriving what they never attempt  or  
hope to execute4    ,others1 not able to
 feast their imagination with  pure     
ideas1 advance somewhat nearer to the   
grossness  of action1 with great        
diligence collect whatever  is requisite
 to their design1 and1 after a thousand 
researches and consultations1 are       
snatched away by  death1 as they stand  
in procinctu waiting for a proper       
opportunity to begin4    ,if there were 
no other end of life1 than to find  some
 adequate solace for every day1 ,i know 
not  whether any condition could be     
preferred to that of  the man who       
involves himself in his own thoughts1   
and never suffers experience to shew him
 the vanity  of speculation2 for no     
sooner are notions reduced to  practice1
 than tranquillity and confidence       

forsake  the breast2 every day brings   
its task1 and often  without bringing   
abilities to perform it3 difficulties   
embarrass1 uncertainty perplexes1       
opposition retards1  censure            
exasperates1 or neglect depresses4  ,we 
proceed because we have begun2 we       
complete our  design1 that the labour   
already spent may not be  vain2 but as  
expectation gradually dies away1 the    
gay smile of alacrity disappears1 we are
 compelled  to implore severer powers1  
and trust the event to  patience and    
constancy4    ,when once our labour has 
begun1 the comfort  that enables us to  
endure it is the prospect of its  end2  
for though in every long work there are 
some  joyous intervals of self-applause1
 when the attention  is recreated by    
unexpected facility1 and the imagination
  soothed by incidental excellencies2   
yet the toil  with which performance    
struggles after idea1 is so  irksome and
 disgusting1 and so frequent is the     
necessity of resting below that         

perfection which we  imagined within our
 reach1 that seldom any man  obtains    
more from his endeavours than a painful 
conviction of his defects1 and a        
continual resuscitation  of desires     
which he feels himself unable to        
gratify4    ,so certainly is weariness  
the concomitant of our  undertakings1   
that every man1 in whatever he is       
engaged1 consoles himself with the hope 
of change2 if  he has made his way by   
assiduity to publick  employment1 he    
talks among his friends of the delight  
of retreat2 if by the necessity of      
solitary application  he is secluded    
from the world1 he listens with a       
beating heart to distant noises1 longs  
to mingle with  living beings1 and      
resolves to take hereafter his fill  of 
diversions1 or display his abilities on 
the universal  theatre1 and enjoy the   
pleasure of distinction and  applause4  
,every desire1 however innocent1 grows  
dangerous1  as by long indulgence it    
becomes ascendant in the  mind4  ,when  

we have been much accustomed to         
consider any thing as capable of giving 
happiness1 it  is not easy to restrain  
our ardour or forbear some              
precipitation in our advances1 and      
irregularity in our  pursuits4  ,he that
 has cultivated the tree1 watched the   
swelling bud and opening blossom1 and   
pleased himself  with computing how much
 every sun and shower  add to its       
growth1 scarcely stays till the fruit   
has  obtained its maturity1 but defeats 
his own cares by  eagerness to reward   
them4  ,when we have diligently         
laboured for any purpose1 we are willing
 to believe  that we have attained it1  
and1 because we have  already done much1
 too suddenly conclude that no  more is 
to be done4    ,all attraction is       
increased by the approach of the        
attracting body4  ,we never find        
ourselves so desirous  to finish1 as in 
the latter part of our work1 or so      
impatient of delay1 as when we know that
 delay cannot  be long4  ,thus          

unseasonable importunity of discontent  
may be partly imputed to langour and    
weariness1  which must always oppress   
those more whose  toil has been longer  
continued2 but the greater part  usually
 proceeds from frequent contemplation of
  that ease which is now considered as  
within reach1  and which1 when it has   
once flattered our hopes1 we  cannot    
suffer to be withheld4  ,in some of the 
noblest compositions of wit1 the        
conclusion falls below the vigour and   
spirit of the  first books2 and as a    
genius is not to be degraded  by the    
imputation of human failings1 the cause 
of  this declension is commonly sought  
in the structure  of the work1 and      
plausible reasons are given why in  the 
defective part less ornament was        
necessary1 or  less could be admitted4  
,but1 perhaps1 the author  would have   
confessed1 that his fancy was tired1 and
  his perseverance broken2 that he knew 
his design  to be unfinished1 but that1 
when he saw the end so  near1 he could  

no longer refuse to be at rest4         
,against the instillations of this      
frigid opiate1 the  heart should be     
secured by all the considerations  which
 once concurred to kindle the ardour of 
enterprise4  ,whatever motive first     
incited action1 has still  greater force
 to stimulate perseverance2 since he    
that might have lain still at first in  
blameless  obscurity1 cannot afterwards 
desist but with infamy  and reproach4   
,he1 whom a doubtful promise of distant 
good could encourage to set difficulties
 at  defiance1 ought not to remit his   
vigour1 when he has  almost obtained his
 recompense4  ,to faint or loiter1  when
 only the last efforts are required1 is 
to steer  the ship through tempests1 and
 abandon it to the  winds in sight of   
land2 it is to break the ground and     
scatter the seed1 and at last to neglect
 the harvest4    ,the masters of        
rhetorick direct1 that the most         
forcible arguments be produced in the   
latter part  of an oration1 lest they   

should be effaced or perplexed  by      
supervenient images4  ,this precept may 
be justly  extended to the series of    
life3 nothing is ended with  honour1    
which does not conclude better than it  
began4  ,it is not sufficient to        
maintain the first vigour2  for         
excellence loses its effect upon the    
mind by  custom1 as light after a time  
ceases to dazzle4  ,admiration must be  
continued by that novelty which first   
produced it1 and how much soever is     
given1 there  must always be reason to  
imagine that more remains4    ,we not   
only are most sensible of the last      
impressions1 but such is the            
unwillingness of mankind  to admit      
transcendant merit1 that1 though it be  
difficult to obliterate the reproach of 
miscarriages by  any subsequent         
achievement1 however illustrious1  yet  
the reputation raised by a long train of
 success  may be finally ruined by a    
single failure2 for  weakness or errour 
will be always remembered by that       

malice and envy which it gratifies4     
,for the prevention of that disgrace1   
which  lassitude and negligence may     
bring at last upon the  greatest        
performances1 it is necessary to        
proportion  carefully our labour to our 
strength4  ,if the design  comprises    
many parts1 equally essential1 and      
therefore  not to be separated1 the only
 time for caution  is before we engage2 
the powers of the mind must  be then    
impartially estimated1 and it must be   
remembered that1 not to complete the    
plan1 is not to  have begun it2 and that
 nothing is done1 while any  thing is   
omitted4    ,but1 if the task consists  
in the repetition of single  acts1 no   
one of which derives its efficacy from  
the  rest1 it may be attempted with less
 scruple1 because  there is always      
opportunity to retreat with honour4     
,the danger is only1 lest we expect from
 the world  the indulgence with which   
most are disposed to  treat themselves2 
and in the hour of listlessness         

imagine1 that the diligence of one day  
will atone  for the idleness of another1
 and that applause begun  by approbation
 will be continued by habit4    ,he that
 is himself weary will soon weary the   
publick4  ,let him therefore lay down   
his employment1  whatever it be1 who can
 no longer exert  his former activity or
 attention2 let him not  endeavour to   
struggle with censure1 or obstinately   
infest the stage till a general hiss    
commands him  to depart4        ,no4    
#bjh4 ,,saturday1 ,,march #ad1 #ageb    
gr ',hracleitos egw4,s ti me catw elcet'
 a34mousoi2       gr ,ouc' umi8n        
eoeponoun1 toi8s de m'                  
eoepistamenois4,s   gr ,eis eoemoioe    
anqrwpos trismurioi4,s oi d' aoenariqmoi
       gr ,ouoedeis4,s tau8t' auoedy8   
cai paraoe  ,persefonh4,s    ,,diog4    
,,laert4     ,begone1 ye blockheads1    
,herselitus cries1   ,and leave my      
labours to the learn'd and wise2   ,by  
wit1 by knowledge1 studious to be read1 
,i scorn the multitude1 alive and dead4 

,,time1 which puts an end to all human  
pleasures  and sorrows1 has likewise    
concluded the labours  of the ,rambler4 
,having supported1 for two years1  the  
anxious employment of a periodical      
writer1 and  multiplied my essays to    
upwards of two hundred1  ,i have now    
determined to desist4    ,the reasons of
 this resolution it is of little        
importance to declare1 since            
justification is unnecessary  when no   
objection is made4  ,i am far from      
supposing1 that the cessation of my     
performances  will raise any inquiry1   
for ,i have never been much  a favourite
 of the publick1 nor can boast that1 in 
the progress of my undertaking1 ,i have 
been animated  by the rewards of the    
liberal1 the caresses of  the great1 or 
the praises of the eminent4    ,but ,i  
have no design to gratify pride by      
submission1 or malice by lamentation2   
nor think it  reasonable to complain of 
neglect from those whose  regard ,i     
never solicited4  ,if ,i have not been  

distinguished by the distributors of    
literary honours1 ,i  have seldom       
descended to the arts by which favour   
is obtained4  ,i have seen the meteors  
of fashions rise  and fall1 without any 
attempt to add a moment to  their       
duration4  ,i have never complied with  
temporary  curiosity1 nor enabled my    
readers to discuss  the topick of the   
day2 ,i have rarely exemplified  my     
assertions by living characters2 in my  
papers1  no man could look for censures 
of his enemies1 or  praises of himself2 
and they only were expected to  peruse  
them1 whose passions left them leisure  
for  abstracted truth1 and whom virtue  
could please by  its naked dignity4     
,to some1 however1 ,i am indebted for   
encouragement1  and to others for       
assistance4  ,the number of  my friends 
was never great1 but they have been     
such as would not suffer me to think    
that ,i was  writing in vain1 and ,i did
 not feel much dejection  from the want 
of popularity4    ,my obligations having

 not been frequent1 my  acknowledgments 
may be soon despatched4  ,i can  restore
 to all my correspondents their         
productions1  with little diminution of 
the bulk of my volumes1  though not     
without the loss of some pieces to      
which particular honours have been paid4
    ,the parts from which ,i claim no   
other praise  than that of having given 
them an opportunity of  appearing1 are  
the four billets in the tenth paper1    
the second letter in the fifteenth1 the 
thirtieth1 the  forty-fourth1 the       
ninety-seventh1 and the hundredth       
papers1 and the second letter in the    
hundred and  seventh4    ,having thus   
deprived myself of many excuses  which  
candour might have admitted for the     
inequality of my compositions1 being no 
longer able  to allege the necessity of 
gratifying correspondents1  the         
importunity with which publication was  
solicited1 or obstinacy with which      
correction was  rejected1 ,i must remain
 accountable for all my faults1  and    

submit1 without subterfuge1 to the      
censures of  criticism1 which1 however1 
,i shall not endeavour to  soften by a  
formal deprecation1 or to overbear by   
the  influence of a patron4  ,the       
supplications of an author  never yet   
reprieved him a moment from oblivion2   
and1 though greatness has sometimes     
sheltered guilt1  it can afford no      
protection to ignorance or dulness4     
,having hitherto attempted only the     
propagation of  truth1 ,i will not at   
last violate it by the confession  of   
terrours which ,i do not feel2 having   
laboured to  maintain the dignity of    
virtue1 ,i will not now  degrade it by  
the meanness of dedication4    ,the     
seeming vanity with which ,i have       
sometimes  spoken of myself1 would      
perhaps require an apology1  were it not
 extenuated by the example of those who 
have published essays before me1 and by 
the privilege  which every nameless     
writer has been hitherto  allowed4  ,a  
mask1 say ,castiglione1 confers a  right

 of acting and speaking with less       
restraint1 even  when the wearer happens
 to be known4  ,he that  is discovered  
without his own consent1 may claim  some
 indulgence1 and cannot be rigorously   
called to  justify those sallies or     
frolicks which his disguise  must prove 
him desirous to conceal4    ,but ,i have
 been cautious lest this offense should 
be frequently or grossly committed2 for1
 as one of  the philosophers directs us 
to live with a friend1 as  with one that
 is some time to become an enemy1 ,i    
have always thought it the duty of an   
anonymous  author to write1 as if he    
expected to be hereafter  known4    ,i  
am willing to flatter myself with hopes1
 that1  by collecting these papers1 ,i  
am not preparing1 for  my future life1  
either shame or repentance4  ,that all  
are happily imagined1 or accurately     
polished1 that  the same sentiments have
 not sometimes recurred1 or  the same   
expressions been too frequently         
repeated1  ,i have not confidence in my 

abilities sufficient to  warrant4  ,he  
that condemns himself to compose on  a  
stated day1 will often bring to his task
 an attention  dissipated1 a memory     
embarrassed1 an imagination             
overwhelmed1 a mind distracted with     
anxieties1  a body languishing with     
disease3 he will labour on  a barren    
topick1 till it is too late to change   
it2 or1 in  the ardour of invention1    
diffuse his thoughts into  wild         
exuberance1 which the pressing hour of  
publication  cannot suffer judgment to  
examine or reduce4    ,whatever shall be
 the final sentence of mankind1  ,i have
 at least endeavoured to deserve their  
kindness4  ,i have laboured to refine   
our language to  grammatical purity1 and
 to clear it from colloquial            
barbarisms1 licentious idioms1 and      
irregular  combinations4  ,something1   
perhaps1 ,i have added to the  elegance 
of its construction1 and something to   
the  harmony of its cadence4  ,when     
common words were  less pleasing to the 

ear1 or less distinct in their          
signification1 ,i have familiarized the 
terms of  philosophy1 by applying them  
to popular ideas1 but have  rarely      
admitted any words not authorized by    
former  writers2 for ,i believe that    
whoever knows the ,english  tongue in   
its present extent1 will be able to     
express  his thoughts without further   
help from other nations4    ,as it has  
been my principal design to inculcate   
wisdom or piety1 ,i have allotted few   
papers to the  idle sports of           
imagination4  ,some1 perhaps1 may be    
found1 of which the highest excellence  
is harmless  merriment2 but scarcely any
 man is so steadily  serious as not to  
complain1 that the severity of          
dictatorial instruction has been too    
seldom relieved1 and  that he is driven 
by the sternness of the ,rambler's      
philosophy to more cheerful and airy    
companions4    ,next to the excursions  
of fancy are the disquisitions  of      
criticism1 which1 in my opinion1 is only

 to be  ranked among the subordinate and
 instrumental arts4  ,arbitrary decision
 and general exclamation ,i have        
carefully avoided1 by asserting nothing 
without a  reason1 and establishing all 
my principles of  judgment on           
unalterable and evident truth4    ,in   
the pictures of life ,i have never been 
so  studious of novelty or surprise1 as 
to depart wholly  from all resemblance2 
a fault which writers  deservedly       
celebrated frequently commit1 that they 
may raise1 as the occasion requires1    
either mirth or  abhorrence4  ,some     
enlargement may be allowed to           
declamation1 and some exaggeration to   
burlesque1  but as they deviate farther 
from reality1 they become  less useful1 
because their lessons will fail of      
application4  ,the mind of the reader is
 carried away from  the contemplation of
 his own manner2 he finds in  himself no
 likeness to the phantom before him2 and
  though he laughs or rages1 is not     
reformed4    ,the essays professedly    

serious1 if ,i have been able  to       
execute my own intentions1 will be found
 exactly  conformable to the precepts of
 ,christianity1 without  any            
accommodation to the licentiousness and 
levity  of the present age4  ,i         
therefore look back on this  part of my 
work with pleasure1 which no blame or   
praise of man shall diminish or augment4
  ,i shall  never envy the honours which
 wit and learning obtain  in any other  
cause1 if ,i can be numbered among  the 
writers who have given ardour to virtue1
 and  confidence to truth4    gr        
,auoetw8n eoec macarwn aoentaxios eih   
aoemoibh4    ,celestial pow'rs6 that    
piety regard1  ,from you my labours wait
 their last reward4        ,,the        
,,adventurer    ,no4 #cd4 ,,saturday1   
,,march #c4 #agec     ,has toties optata
 exegit gloria poenas4  ,,juv4 ,sat4 x4 
#ahg4     ,such fate pursues the        
votaries of praise4      ,,to ,,the     
,,adventurer4    ,,sir1    ,fleet       
,prison1 ,feb4 #bd4    ,,to a benevolent

 disposition1 every state of life  will 
afford some opportunities of            
contributing to  the welfare of mankind4
  ,opulence and splendour are  enabled  
to dispel the cloud of adversity1 to dry
 up the  tears of the widow and the     
orphan1 and to increase  the felicity of
 all around them3 their example will    
animate virtue1 and retard the progress 
of vice4  ,and  even indigence and      
obscurity1 though without power  to     
confer happiness1 may at least prevent  
misery1  and apprize those who are      
blinded by their passions1  that they   
are on the brink of irremediable        
calamity4    ,pleased1 therefore1 with  
the thought of recovering  others from  
that folly which has embittered my  own 
days1 ,i have presumed to address the   
,,adventurer  from the dreary mansions  
of wretchedness  and despair1 of which  
the gates are so wonderfully            
constructed1 as to fly open for the     
reception of  strangers1 though they are
 impervious as a rock of  adamant to    

such as are within them3                
----,facilis descensus ,averni3         
,noctes atque dies patet atri janua     
,ditis4   ,sed revocare gradum1         
superasque evadere ad auras1   ,hoc     
opus1 hic labor est4--------  ,,virg4   
,a,en4 vi4 #abf4     ,the gates of hell 
are open night and day2   ,smooth the   
descent1 and easy is the way3   ,but to 
return and view the cheerful skies2     
,in this the task and mighty labour     
lies4    ,,dryden4    ,suffer me to     
acquaint you1 ,sir1 that ,i have        
glittered at the ball1 and sparkled in  
the circle2 that ,i  have had the       
happiness to be the unknown favourite   
of an unknown lady at the masquerade1   
have been  the delight of tables of the 
first fashion1 and envy  of my brother  
beaux2 and to descend a little lower1   
it is1 ,i believe1 still remembered1    
that ,messrs4  ,velours and d',espagne  
stand indebted for a great part  of     
their present influence at ,guildhall1  
to the  elegance of my shape1 and the   

graceful freedom of my  carriage4       
----,sed quae praeclara et prospera     
tanti1   ,ut rebus laetis par sit       
mensura malorum8  ,,juv4 ,sat4 x4 #ig4  
,see the wild purchase of the bold and  
vain1   ,where every bliss is bought    
with equal pain6      ,as ,i entered    
into the world very young1 with an      
elegant person and a large estate1 it   
was not long  before ,i disentangled    
myself from the shackles of  religion2  
for ,i was determined to the pursuit of 
pleasure1 which according to my notions 
consisted  in the unrestrained and      
unlimited gratifications of  every      
passion and every appetite2 and as this 
could  not be obtained under the frowns 
of a perpetual  dictator1 ,i considered 
religion as my enemy2 and  proceeding to
 treat her with contempt and derision1  
was not a little delighted1 that the    
unfashionableness  of her appearance1   
and the unanimated uniformity  of her   
motions1 afforded frequent opportunities
 for  the sallies of my imagination4    

,conceiving now that ,i was sufficiently
 qualified  to laugh away scruples1 ,i  
imparted my remarks to  those among my  
female favourites1 whose virtue ,i      
intended to attack2 for ,i was well     
assured1 that pride  would be able to   
make but a weak defence1 when  religion 
was subverted2 nor was my success below 
my expectation3 the love of pleasure is 
too strongly  implanted in the female   
breast1 to suffer them scrupulously  to 
examine the validity of arguments       
designed  to weaken restraint2 all are  
easily led to  believe1 that whatever   
thwarts their inclination must  be      
wrong3 little more1 therefore1 was      
required1 than  by the addition of some 
circumstances1 and the  exaggeration of 
others1 to make merriment supply the    
place of demonstration2 nor was ,i so   
senseless as to  offer arguments to such
 as could not attend to them1  and with 
whom a repartee or catch would more     
effectually answer the same purpose4    
,this being  effected1 there remained   

only the dread of the  world3 but       
,roxana soared too high1 to think the   
opinion of others worthy her notice2    
,laetitia seemed  to think of it only to
 declare1 that if all her hairs  were   
worlds1 she should reckon them well lost
  for love2 and ,pastorella fondly      
conceived1 that she  could dwell for    
ever by the side of a bubbling fountain1
  content with her swain and fleecy     
care2 without  considering that         
stillness and solitude can afford       
satisfaction only to innocence4    ,it  
is not the desire of new acquisitions1  
but the  glory of conquests1 that fires 
the soldier's breast2 as  indeed the    
town is seldom worth much1 when it has  
suffered the devastations of a siege2 so
 that though  ,i did not openly declare 
the effects of my own  prowess1 which is
 forbidden by the laws of honour1 it    
cannot be supposed that ,i was very     
solicitous to  bury my reputation1 or to
 hinder accidental discoveries4  ,to    
have gained one victory1 is an          

inducement  to hazard a second          
engagement3 and though the  success of  
the general should be a reason for      
increasing  the strength of the         
fortification1 it becomes1 with  many1 a
 pretence for an immediate surrender1   
under  the notion that no power is able 
to withstand so  formidable an          
adversary2 while others brave the       
danger1  and think it mean to surrender1
 and dastardly to fly4  ,melissa1       
indeed1 knew better2 and though she     
could  not boast the apathy1 steadiness1
 and inflexibility of a  ,cato1 wanted  
not the more prudent virtue of ,scipio1 
and gained the victory by declining the 
contest4    ,you must not1 however1     
imagine1 that ,i was1  during this state
 of abandoned libertinism1 so fully     
convinced of the fitness of my own      
conduct1 as to be  free from uneasiness4
  ,i knew very well1 that ,i might      
justly be deemed the pest of society1   
and that such  proceedings must         
terminate in the destruction of  my     

health and fortune2 but to admit        
thoughts of this  kind was to live upon 
the rack3 ,i fled1 therefore1 to  the   
regions of mirth and jollity1 as they   
are called1  and endeavoured with       
,burgundy1 and a continual  rotation of 
company1 to free myself from the pangs  
of reflection4  ,from these orgies we   
frequently sallied  forth in quest of   
adventures1 to the no small terrour  and
 consternation of all the sober         
stragglers that  came in our way3 and   
though we never injured1 like  our      
illustrious progenitors1 the ,mohocks1  
either life  or limbs2 yet we have in   
the midst of ,covent ,garden  buried a  
tailor1 who had been troublesome to     
some of our fine gentlemen1 beneath a   
heap of  cabbage-leaves and stalks1 with
 this conceit1     ,satia te caule quem 
semper cupisti4     ,glut yourself with 
cabbage1 of which you have always been  
greedy4      ,there can be no reason for
 mentioning the common  exploits of     
breaking windows and bruising the       

watch2 unless it be to tell you of the  
device of  producing before the justice 
broken lanterns1 which have  been paid  
for an hundred times2 or their          
appearances  with patches on their      
heads1 under pretence of being  cut by  
the sword that was never drawn3 nor need
 ,i  say any thing of the more          
formidable attack of  sturdy chairmen1  
armed with poles2 by a slight stroke  of
 which1 the pride of ,ned ,revel's face 
was at once  laid flat1 and that        
effected in an instant1 which its  most 
mortal foe had for years assayed in     
vain4  ,i shall  pass over the accidents
 that attended attempts to  scale       
windows1 and endeavours to dislodge     
signs  from their hooks3 there are many 
hair-breadth  'scapes1 besides those in 
the imminent deadly  breach2 but the    
rake's life1 though it be equally       
hazardous with that of the soldier1 is  
neither  accompanied with present honour
 nor with pleasing  retrospect2 such is1
 and such ought to be1 the difference   

between the enemy and the preserver of  
his country4    ,amidst such giddy and  
thoughtless extravagance1  it will not  
seem strange1 that ,i was often the     
dupe of coarse flattery4  ,when ,mons4  
,l',allonge  assured me1 that ,i thrust 
quart over arm better than  any man in  
,england1 what could ,i less than       
present  him with a sword that cost me  
thirty pieces8  ,i was  bound for a     
hundred pounds for ,tom ,trippet1       
because he had declared that he would   
dance a minuet  with any man in the     
three kingdoms except myself4  ,but ,i  
often parted with money against my      
inclination1  either because ,i wanted  
the resolution to refuse1  or dreaded   
the appellation of a niggardly fellow2  
and ,i may be truly said to have        
squandered  my estate1 without honour1  
without friends1 and  without pleasure4 
,the last may1 perhaps1 appear  strange 
to men unacquainted with the masquerade 
of life3 ,i deceived others1 and ,i     
endeavoured to  deceive myself2 and have

 worn the face of pleasantry  and       
gaiety1 while my heart suffered the most
  exquisite torture4    ,by the         
instigation and encouragement of my     
friends1 ,i became at length ambitious  
of a seat in  parliament2 and           
accordingly set out for the town  of    
,wallop in the west1 where my arrival   
was  welcomed by a thousand throats1 and
 ,i was in three  days sure of a        
majority3 but after drinking out one    
hundred and fifty hogsheads of wine1 and
 bribing  two-thirds of the corporation 
twice over1 ,i had the  mortification to
 find that the borough had been  before 
sold to ,mr4 ,courtly4    ,in a life of 
this kind1 my fortune1 though           
considerable1 was presently dissipated2 
and as the  attraction grows more strong
 the nearer any body  approaches the    
earth1 when once a man begins to  sink  
into poverty1 he falls with velocity    
always  increasing2 every supply is     
purchased at a higher and  higher price1
 and every office of kindness obtained  

with greater and greater difficulty4    
,having now  acquainted you with my     
state of elevation1 ,i shall1 if  you   
encourage the continuance of my         
correspondence1  shew you by what steps 
,i descended from a  first floor in     
,pall-,mall to my present habitatione4  
,i am1 ,sir1    ,your humble servant1   
,,misargyrus4       e ,for an account of
 the disputes raised on this paper1 and 
on  the other letters of ,misargyrus1   
see ,preface4        ,no4 #ci4          
,,tuesday1 ,,march #bj1 #agec     gr    
--',oduseuoes fulloisi caluyato' ty8 d' 
ar' ',aqhnh   gr ,gpnon eoep' ommasi    
ceu8'1 ina min pauseie tacista   gr     
,duspones camatoio4--------   ,,hom4    
,e'4 #dia4     --,pallas pour'd sweet   
slumbers on his soul2   ,and balmy      
dreams1 the gift of soft repose1        
,calm'd all his pains1 and banish'd all 
his woes4  ,,pope4    ,,if every day did
 not produce fresh instances of  the    
ingratitude of mankind1 we might1       
perhaps1  be at a loss1 why so liberal  

and impartial a  benefactor as sleep1   
should meet with so few historians  or  
panegyrists4  ,writers are so totally   
absorbed by  the business of the day1 as
 never to turn their  attention to that 
power1 whose officious hand so          
seasonably suspends the burthen of life2
 and without  whose interposition man   
would not be able to endure  the fatigue
 of labour1 however rewarded1 or  the   
struggle with opposition1 however       
successful4    ,night1 though she       
divides to many the longest  part of    
life1 and to almost all the most        
innocent and  happy1 is yet unthankfully
 neglected1 except by  those who pervert
 her gifts4    ,the astronomers1 indeed1
 expect her with  impatience1 and       
felicitate themselves upon her arrival3 
,fontenelle has not failed to celebrate 
her praises2  and to chide the sun for  
hiding from his view the  worlds1 which 
he imagines to appear in every          
constellation4  ,nor have the poets been
 always deficient  in her praises3      

,milton has observed of the night1  that
 it is the pleasant time1 the cool1 the 
silent4    ,these men may1 indeed1 well 
be expected to pay  particular homage to
 night2 since they are indebted  to her1
 not only for cessation of pain1 but    
increase  of pleasure2 not only for     
slumber1 but for knowledge4  ,but the   
greater part of her avowed votaries are 
the  sons of luxury2 who appropriate to 
festivity the  hours designed for rest2 
who consider the reign of  pleasure as  
commencing when day begins to withdraw  
her busy multitudes1 and ceases to      
dissipate  attention by intrusive and   
unwelcome variety2 who  begin to awake  
to joy when the rest of the world  sinks
 into insensibility2 and revel in the   
soft affluence  of flattering and       
artifical lights1 which more shadowy    
set off the face of things4    ,without 
touching upon the fatal consequences of 
a custom1 which1 as ,ramazzini observes1
 will be for  ever condemned and for    
ever retained2 it may be  observed1 that

 however sleep may be put off from  time
 to time1 yet the demand is of so       
importunate a  nature1 as not to remain 
long unsatisfied3 and if1 as  some have 
done1 we consider it as the tax of life1
 we  cannot but observe it as a tax that
 must be paid1  unless we could cease to
 be men2 for ,alexander  declared1 that 
nothing convinced him that he was not a 
divinity1 but his not being able to live
 without sleep4    ,to live without     
sleep in our present fluctuating  state1
 however desirably it might seem to the 
lady in  ,clelia1 can surely be the wish
 only of the young or  the ignorant2 to 
every one else1 a perpetual vigil will  
appear to be a state of wretchedness1   
second only  to that of the miserable   
beings1 whom ,swift has in  his travels 
so elegantly described1 as supremely    
cursed with immortality4    ,sleep is   
necessary to the happy to prevent       
satiety1  and to endear life by a short 
absence2 and to the  miserable1 to      
relieve them by intervals of quiet4     

,life  is to most1 such as could not be 
endured without  frequent intermission  
of existence3  ,homer1 therefore1  has  
thought it an office worthy of the      
goddess  of wisdom1 to lay ,ulysses     
asleep when landed on  ,phaeacia4    ,it
 is related of ,barretier1 whose early  
advances in  literature scarce any human
 mind has equalled1 that  he spent      
twelve hours of the four-and-twenty in  
sleep3 yet this appears from the bad    
state of his  health1 and the shortness 
of his life1 to have been  too small a  
respite for a mind so vigorously and    
intensely employed3 it is to be         
regretted1 therefore1  that he did not  
exercise his mind less1 and his body    
more3 since by this means1 it is highly 
probable1  that though he would not then
 have astonished with  the blaze of a   
comet1 he would yet have shone with  the
 permanent radiance of a fixed star4    
,nor should it be objected1 that there  
have been  many men who daily spend     
fifteen or sixteen hours  in study3 for 

by some of whom this is reported it  has
 never been done2 others have done it   
for a short  time only2 and of the rest 
it appears1 that they  employed their   
minds in such operations as required    
neither celerity nor strength1 in the   
low drudgery of  collating copies1      
comparing authorities1 digesting        
dictionaries1 or accumulating           
compilations4    ,men of study and      
imagination are frequently  upbraided by
 the industrious and plodding sons of   
care1  with passing too great a part of 
their life in a state  of inaction4     
,but these defiers of sleep seem not to 
remember that though it must be granted 
them that  they are crawling about      
before the break of day1 it  can seldom 
be said that they are perfectly awake2  
they exhaust no spirits1 and require no 
repairs2 but  lie torpid as a toad in   
marble1 or at least are known  to live  
only by an inert and sluggish           
loco-motive  faculty1 and may be said1  
like a wounded snake1 to  drag their    

slow length along4    ,man has been long
 known among philosophers  by the       
appellation of the microcosm1 or epitome
 of  the world3 the resemblance between 
the great and  little world might1 by a 
rational observer1 be detailed  to many 
particulars2 and to many more by a      
fanciful  speculatist4  ,i know not in  
which of these two classes  ,i shall be 
ranged for observing1 that as the total 
quantity of light and darkness allotted 
in the course  of the year to every     
region of the earth is the same1  though
 distributed at various times and in    
different  portions2 so1 perhaps1 to    
each individual of the  human species1  
nature has ordained the same quantity   
of wakefulness and sleep2 though divided
 by  some into a total quiescence and   
vigorous exertion  of their faculties1  
and1 blended by others in a kind of     
twilight of existence1 in a state       
between dreaming  and reasoning1 in     
which they either think without  action1
 or act without thought4    ,the poets  

are generally well affected to sleep3 as
  men who think with vigour1 they       
require respite from  thought2 and      
gladly resign themselves to that gentle 
power1 who not only bestows rest1 but   
frequently  leads them to happier       
regions1 where patrons are  always kind1
 and audiences are always candid2 where 
they are feasted in the bowers of       
imagination1 and  crowned with flowers  
divested of their prickles1 and  laurels
 of unfading verdure4    ,the more      
refined and penetrating part of         
mankind1 who take wide surveys of the   
wilds of life1 who  see the innumerable 
terrours and distresses that are        
perpetually preying on the heart of man1
 and discern  with unhappy perspicuity1 
calamities yet latent in  their causes1 
are glad to close their eyes upon the   
gloomy prospect1 and lose in a short    
insensibility  the remembrance of       
others' miseries and their own4  ,the   
hero has no higher hope1 than that1     
after having  routed legions after      

legions1 and added kingdom to  kingdom1 
he shall retire to milder happiness1 and
  close his days in social festivity4   
,the wit or the sage  can expect no     
greater happiness1 than that1 after     
having harassed his reason in deep      
researches1 and  fatigued his fancy in  
boundless excursions1 he shall  sink at 
night in the tranquillity of sleep4     
,the poets1 among all those that enjoy  
the blessings  of sleep1 have been least
 ashamed to acknowledge  their          
benefactor4  ,how much ,statius         
considered  the evils of life as        
assuaged and softened by the balm  of   
slumber1 we may discover by that        
pathetick  invocation1 which he poured  
out in his waking nights3  and that     
,cowley1 among the other felicities of  
his  darling solitude1 did not forget to
 number the  privilege of sleeping      
without disturbance1 we may learn  from 
the rank that he assigns among the gifts
 of  nature to the poppy1 which is      
scattered1 says he1  over the fields of 

corn1 that all the needs of man  may be 
easily satisfied1 and that bread and    
sleep may  be found together4     ,si   
quis invisum ,cereri benignae   ,me     
putat germen1 vehementer errat2   ,illa 
me in partem recipit libenter           
,fertilis agri4     ,meque frumentumque 
simul per omnes   ,consulens mundo ,dea 
spargit oras2   ,creseite1 ,o6 dixit1   
duo magna susten-                       
tacula vitae4     ,carpe1 mortalis1 mea 
dona laetus1   ,carpe1 nec plantas alias
 require1   ,sed satur panis1 satur et  
soporis1                      ,caetera  
sperne4     ,he wildly errs who thinks  
,i yield   ,precedence in the           
well-cloth'd field1       ,tho' mix'd   
with wheat ,i grow3   ,indulgent ,ceres 
knew my worth1   ,and to adorn the      
teeming earth1       ,she bade the      
,poppy blow4     ,nor vainly gay the    
sight to please1   ,but blest with pow'r
 mankind to ease1       ,the goddess saw
 me rise3   ,thrive with the            
life-supporting grain1   ,she cried1 the

 solace of the swain1       ,the cordial
 of his eyes4     ,seize1 happy mortal1 
seize the good2   ,my hand supplies thy 
sleep and food1       ,and makes thee   
truly blest3   ,with plenteous meals    
enjoy the day1   ,in slumbers pass the  
night away1       ,and leave to fate the
 rest4 ,c4 ,b4      ,sleep1 therefore1  
as the chief of all earthly  blessings1 
is justly appropriated to industry and  
temperance2 the refreshing rest1 and the
 peaceful night1  are the portion only  
of him who lies down weary  with honest 
labour1 and free from the fumes of      
indigested luxury2 it is the just doom  
of laziness and  gluttony1 to be        
inactive without ease1 and drowsy       
without tranquillity4    ,sleep has     
often been mentioned as the image of    
deathf2 so like it1 says ,sir ,thomas   
,brown1 that  ,i dare not trust it      
without my prayers3 their  resemblance  
is1 indeed1 apparent and striking2 they 
both1 when they seize the body1 leave   
the soul at  liberty3 and wise is he    

that remembers of both1 that  they can  
be safe and happy only by virtue4       
f ,lovely sleep6 thou beautiful image of
 terrible death       ,be thou my       
pillow-companion1 my angel of rest6     
,come1 ,o sleep6 for thine are the joys 
of living and dying3       ,life without
 sorrow1 and death with no anguish1 no  
pain4    ,from the ,german of ,schmidt4 
,no4 #da4 ,,tuesday1 ,,march #bg1 #agec 
--------,si mutabile pectus   ,est tibi1
 consiliis1 non curribus1 utere nostris2
   ,dum potes1 et solidis etiam num     
sedibus adstas1   ,dumque male optatos  
nondum premis inscius axes4    ,,ovid4  
,met4 ii4 #adc4     --------,th' attempt
 forsake1   ,and not my chariot but my  
counsel take2   ,while yet securely on  
the earth you stand2   ,nor touch the   
horses with too rash a hand4  ,,addison4
      ,,to ,,the ,,adventurer4    ,,sir1
    ,fleet1 ,march #bd4    ,i ,,now send
 you the sequel of my story1 which had  
not been so long delayed1 if ,i could   
have brought  myself to imagine1 that   

any real impatience was  felt for the   
fate of ,misargyrus2 who has travelled  
no  unbeaten track to misery1 and       
consequently can  present the reader    
only with such incidents as occur  in   
daily life4    ,you have seen me1 ,sir1 
in the zenith of my glory1  not         
dispensing the kindly warmth of an      
all-cheering  sun3 but1 like another    
,phaeton1 scorching and blasting  every 
thing round me4  ,i shall proceed1      
therefore1  to finish my career1 and    
pass as rapidly as possible  through the
 remaining vicissitudes of my life4     
,when ,i first began to be in want of   
money1 ,i  made no doubt of an immediate
 supply4  ,the newspapers  were         
perpetually offering directions to men1 
who seemed to have no other business    
than to  gather heaps of gold for those 
who place their  supreme felicity in    
scattering it4  ,i posted away1         
therefore1 to one of these advertisers1 
who by his proposals1  seemed to deal in
 thousands2 and was not a little        

chagrined to find1 that this general    
benefactor would  have nothing to do    
with any larger sum than thirty  pounds1
 nor would venture that without a joint 
note  from myself and a reputable house 
keeper1 or for a  longer time than three
 months4    ,it was yet not so bad with 
me1 as that ,i needed  to solicit surety
 for thirty pounds3 yet partly from  the
 greediness that extravagance always    
produces1  and partly from a desire of  
seeing the humour of a  petty usurer1 a 
character of which ,i had hitherto      
lived in ignorance1 ,i condescended to  
listen to his  terms4  ,he proceeded to 
inform me of my great  felicity in not  
falling into the hands of an            
extortioner2 and assured me1 that ,i    
should find him  extremely moderate in  
his demands3 he was not1  indeed1       
certain that he could furnish me with   
the  whole sum1 for people were at this 
particular time  extremely pressing and 
importunate for money3  yet1 as ,i had  
the appearance of a gentleman1 he  would

 try what he could do1 and give me his  
answer  in three days4    ,at the       
expiration of the time1 ,i called upon  
him  again2 and was again informed of   
the great demand  for money1 and that1  
money was money now3 he  then advised me
 to be punctual in my payment1 as  that 
might induce him to befriend me         
hereafter2  and delivered me the money1 
deducting at the rate  of five and      
thirty per cent4  with another          
panegyrick  upon his own moderation4    
,i will not tire you with the various   
practices of  usurious oppression2 but  
cannot omit my transaction  with        
,squeeze on ,tower-hill1 who1 finding me
 a  young man of considerable           
expectations1 employed  an agent to     
persuade me to borrow five hundred      
pounds1 to be refunded by an annual     
payment of  twenty per cent4 during the 
joint lives of his  daughter ,nancy     
,squeeze and myself4  ,the negociator   
came prepared to enforce his proposal   
with all his  art2 but1 finding that ,i 

caught his offer with the  eagerness of 
necessity1 he grew cold and languid2  he
 had mentioned it out of kindness2 he   
would  try to serve me3  ,mr4 ,squeeze  
was an honest man1  but extremely       
cautious4  ,in three days he came  to   
tell me1 that his endeavours had been   
ineffectual1  ,mr4 ,squeeze having no   
good opinion of my  life2 but that there
 was one expedient remaining3  ,mrs4    
,squeeze could influence her husband1   
and  her good will might be gained by a 
compliment4  ,i waited that afternoon on
 ,mrs4 ,squeeze1 and  poured out before 
her the flatteries which usually  gain  
access to rank and beauty3 ,i did not   
then  know1 that there are places in    
which the only  compliment is a bribe4  
,having yet credit with a  jeweller1 ,i 
afterwards procured a ring of thirty    
guineas1  which ,i humbly presented1 and
 was soon admitted  to a treaty with    
,mr4 ,squeeze4  ,he appeared peevish    
and backward1 and my old friend         
whispered me1  that he would never make 

a dry bargain3  ,i therefore  invited   
him to a tavern4  ,nine times we met on 
the affair2 nine times ,i paid four     
pounds for the  supper and claret2 and  
nine guineas ,i gave the  agent for good
 offices4  ,i then obtained the money1  
paying ten per cent4 advance2 and at the
 tenth  meeting gave another supper1 and
 disbursed fifteen  pounds for the      
writings4    ,others who styled         
themselves brokers1 would  only trust   
their money upon goods3 that ,i might1  
therefore1 try every art of expensive   
folly1 ,i took a  house and furnished   
it4  ,i amused myself with  despoiling  
my moveables of their glossy appearance1
  for fear of alarming the lender with  
suspicions3 and  in this ,i succeeded so
 well1 that he favoured me  with one    
hundred and sixty pounds upon that      
which was rated at seven hundred4  ,i   
then found  that ,i was to maintain a   
guardian about me to  prevent the goods 
from being broken or removed4  ,this    
was1 indeed1 an unexpected tax2 but it  

was too  late to recede3 and ,i         
comforted myself1 that ,i might  prevent
 a creditor1 of whom ,i had some        
apprehensions1  from seizing1 by having 
a prior execution always  in the house4 
,by such means ,i had so embarrassed    
myself1 that  my whole attention was    
engaged in contriving excuses1  and     
raising small sums to quiet such as     
words  would no longer mollify4  ,it    
cost me eighty pounds  in presents to   
,mr4 ,leech the attorney1 for his       
forbearance of one hundred1 which he    
solicited me to  take when ,i had no    
need4  ,i was perpetually harassed  with
 importunate demands1 and insulted by   
wretches1 who a few months before would 
not have  dared to raise their eyes from
 the dust before me4  ,i lived in       
continual terrour1 frighted by every    
noise  at the door1 and terrified at the
 approach of every  step quicker than   
common4  ,i never retired to rest       
without feeling the justness of the     
,spanish proverb1  ,let him who sleeps  

too much1 borrow the pillow  of a       
debtor3 my solicitude and vexation kept 
me  long waking2 and when ,i had closed 
my eyes1 ,i  was pursued or insulted by 
visionary bailiffs4    ,when ,i         
reflected upon the meanness of the      
shifts  ,i had reduced myself to1 ,i    
could not but curse the  folly and      
extravagance that had overwhelmed me  in
 a sea of troubles1 from which it was   
highly  improbable that ,i should ever  
emerge4  ,i had some  time lived in     
hopes of an estate1 at the death of  my 
uncle2 but he disappointed me by        
marrying  his housekeeper2 and1 catching
 an opportunity soon  after of          
quarrelling with me1 for settling twenty
  pounds a year upon a girl whom ,i had 
seduced1  told me that he would take    
care to prevent his  fortune from being 
squandered upon prostitutes4    ,nothing
 now remained1 but the chance of        
extricating myself by marriage2 a scheme
 which1 ,i  flattered myself1 nothing   
but my present distress would  have made

 me think on with patience4  ,i         
determined1  therefore1 to look out for 
a tender novice1 with a  large fortune1 
at her own disposal2 and accordingly    
fixed my eyes upon ,miss ,biddy ,simper4
  ,i had now  paid her six or seven     
visits2 and so fully convinced  her of  
my being a gentleman and a rake1 that ,i
  made no doubt that both her person and
 fortune  would soon be mine4    ,at    
this critical time1 ,miss ,gripe called 
upon me1  in a chariot bought with my   
money1 and loaded  with trinkets that ,i
 had1 in my days of affluence1  lavished
 on her4  ,those days were now over2 and
  there was little hope that they would 
ever return4  ,she was not able to      
withstand the temptation of  ten pounds 
that ,talon the bailiff offered her1 but
  brought him into my apartment         
disguised in a livery2  and taking my   
sword to the window1 under pretence  of 
admiring the workmanship1 beckoned him  
to  seize me4    ,delay would have been 
expensive without use1  as the debt was 

too considerable for payment or  bail3  
,i1 therefore1 suffered myself to be    
immediately  conducted to gaol4         
,vestibulum ante ipsum1 primisque in    
faucibus ,orci1   ,luctus et ultrices   
posuere cubilia cureae3   ,pallentesque 
habitant morbi1 tristisque senectus1    
,et metus1 et malesuada fames1 et turpis
 egestas4    ,,virg4 ,a,en4 vi4 #bgc4   
,just in the gate and in the jaws of    
hell1   ,revengeful cares and sullen    
sorrows dwell2   ,and pale diseases1 and
 repining age2   ,want1 fear1 and       
famine's unresisted rage4  ,,dryden4    
,confinement of any kind is dreadful2 a 
prison is  sometimes able to shock      
those1 who endure it in a  good cause3  
let your imagination1 therefore1        
acquaint  you with what ,i have not     
words to express1 and  conceive1 if     
possible1 the horrours of imprisonment  
attended with reproach and ignominy1 of 
involuntary  association with the refuse
 of mankind1 with  wretches who were    
before too abandoned for society1  but1 

being now freed from shame or fear1 are 
hourly  improving their vices by        
consorting with each other4    ,there   
are1 however1 a few1 whom1 like myself1 
imprisonment has rather mortified than  
hardened3  with these only ,i converse2 
and of these you may1  perhaps1         
hereafter receive some account from     
,your humble servant1    ,,misargyrus4  
,no4 #de4 ,,tuesday1 ,,april #aj1 #agec 
,nulla fides regni sociis1 omnisque     
potestas   ,impatiens consortis         
erit4--------    ,,lucan4 ,lib4 i4 #ib4 
,no faith of partnership dominion owns3 
,still discord hovers o'er divided      
thrones4    ,,it is well known1 that    
many things appear plausible  in        
speculation1 which can never be reduced 
to  practice2 and that of the numberless
 projects that  have flattered mankind  
with theoretical speciousness1  few had 
served any other purpose than to show   
the ingenuity of their contrivers4  ,a  
voyage to the  moon1 however romantick  
and absurd the scheme  may now appear1  

since the properties of air have  been  
better understood1 seemed highly        
probable  to many of the aspiring wits  
in the last century1  who began to dote 
upon their glossy plumes1 and  fluttered
 with impatience for the hour of their  
departure3     ------------,pereunt     
vestigia mille   ,ante fugam1           
absentemque ferit gravis ungula campum4 
,hills1 vales and floods appear already 
crost2   ,and1 ere he starts1 a thousand
 steps are lost4  ,,pope4      ,among   
the fallacies which only experience can 
detect1 there are some1 of which        
scarcely experience  itself can destroy 
the influence2 some which1 by a         
captivating show of indubitable         
certainty1 are  perpetually gaining upon
 the human mind2 and which1  though     
every trial ends in disappointment1     
obtain  new credit as the sense of      
miscarriage wears gradually  away1      
persuade us to try again what we have   
tried already1 and expose us by the same
 failure to  double vexation4    ,of    

this tempting1 this delusive kind1 is   
the  expectation of great performances  
by confederated  strength4  ,the        
speculatist1 when he has carefully      
observed how much may be performed by a 
single  hand1 calculates by a very easy 
operation the force  of thousands1 and  
goes on accumulating power till         
resistance vanishes before it1 then     
rejoices in the  success of his new     
scheme1 and wonders at the folly or     
idleness of former ages1 who have lived 
in want  of what might so readily be    
procured1 and suffered  themselves to be
 debarred from happiness by obstacles   
which one united effort would have so   
easily  surmounted4    ,but this        
gigantick phantom of collective power   
vanishes at once into air and emptiness1
 at the first  attempt to put it into   
action4  ,the different apprehensions1  
the discordant passions1 the jarring    
interests of  men1 will scarcely permit 
that many should unite in  one          
undertaking4    ,of a great and         

complicated design1 some will never  be 
brought to discern the end2 and of the  
several  means by which it may be       
accomplished1 the choice  will be a     
perpetual subject of debate1 as every   
man  is swayed in his determination by  
his own knowledge  or convenience4  ,in 
a long series of action some  will      
languish with fatigue1 and some be drawn
 of  by present gratifications2 some    
will loiter because  others labour1 and 
some will cease to labour because       
others loiter3 and if once they come    
within prospect  of success and profit1 
some will be greedy and  others envious2
 some will undertake more than they  can
 perform1 to enlarge their claims of    
advantage2  some will perform less than 
they undertake1 lest  their labours     
should chiefly turn to the benefit of   
others4    ,the history of mankind      
informs us that a single  power is very 
seldom broken by a confederacy4  ,states
  of different interests1 and aspects   
malevolent to each  other1 may be united

 for a time by common distress2  and in 
the ardour of self-preservation fall    
unanimously  upon an enemy1 by whom they
 are all equally  endangered4  ,but if  
their first attack can be  withstood1   
time will never fail to dissolve their  
union3  success and miscarriage will be 
equally destructive3  after the conquest
 of a province1 they will quarrel in    
the division2 after the loss of a       
battle1 all will be  endeavouring to    
secure themselves by abandoning  the    
rest4    ,from the impossibility of     
confining numbers to  the constant and  
uniform prosecution of a common         
interest1 arises the difficulty of      
securing subjects  against the          
encroachment of governours4  ,power is  
always gradually stealing away from the 
many to the  few1 because the few are   
more vigilant and consistent2  it still 
contracts to a smaller number1 till in  
time  it centres in a single person4    
,thus all the forms of governments      
instituted  among mankind1 perpetually  

tend towards monarchy2  and power1      
however diffused through the  whole     
community1 is1 by negligence or         
corruption1  commotion or distress1     
reposed at last in the chief            
magistrate4    ,there never appear1 says
 ,swift1 more than  five or six men of  
genius in an age2 but if they were      
united1 the world could not stand before
 them4  ,it is happy1 therefore1 for    
mankind1 that of this  union there is no
 probability4  ,as men take in a  wider 
compass of intellectual survey1 they are
 more  likely to choose different       
objects of pursuit2 as they  see more   
ways to the same end1 they will be less 
easily persuaded to travel together2 as 
each is better  qualified to form an    
independent scheme of private           
greatness1 he will reject with greater  
obstinacy the  project of another2 as   
each is more able to distinguish        
himself as the head of a party1 he will 
less  readily be made a follower or an  
associate4    ,the reigning philosophy  

informs us1 that the vast  bodies which 
constitute the universe1 are regulated  
in their progress through the ethereal  
spaces by the  perpetual agency of      
contrary forces2 by one of which  they  
are restrained from deserting their     
orbits1 and  losing themselves in the   
immensity of heaven2  and held off by   
the other from rushing together1  and   
clustering round their centre with      
everlasting  cohesion4    ,the same     
contrariety of impulse may be perhaps   
discovered in the motions of men3 we are
 formed  for society1 not for           
combination2 we are equally  unqualified
 to live in a close connexion with our  
fellow-beings1 and in total separation  
from them2  we are attracted towards    
each other by general  sympathy1 but    
kept back from contact by private       
interests4    ,some philosophers have   
been foolish enough to  imagine1 that   
improvements might be made in the       
system of the universe1 by a different  
arrangement  of the orbs of heaven2 and 

politicians1 equally  ignorant and      
equally presumptuous1 may easily be led 
to  suppose1 that the happiness of our  
world would be  promoted by a different 
tendency of the human  mind4  ,it       
appears1 indeed1 to a slight and        
superficial  observer1 that many things 
impracticable in our present  state1    
might be easily effected1 if mankind    
were  better disposed to union and      
co-operation3 but a little  reflection  
will discover1 that if confederacies    
were  easily formed1 they would lose    
their efficacy1 since  numbers would be 
opposed to numbers1 and unanimity  to   
unanimity2 and instead of the present   
petty  competitions of individuals or   
single families1  multitudes would be   
supplanting multitudes1 and  thousands  
plotting against thousands4  ,there is  
no class of the human species1 of which 
the union seems to have been more       
expected1 than  of the learned3 the rest
 of the world have almost always  agreed
 to shut scholars up together in        

colleges  and cloisters2 surely not     
without hope1 that they  would look for 
that happiness in concord1 which they   
were debarred from finding in variety2  
and that such  conjunctions of intellect
 would recompense the  munificence of   
founders and patrons1 by performances   
above the reach of any single mind4     
,but discord1 who found means to roll   
her apple  into the banqueting chamber  
of the goddesses1 has  had the address  
to scatter her laurels in the seminaries
  of learning4  ,the friendship of      
students and of  beauties is for the    
most part equally sincere1 and  equally 
durable3 as both depend for happiness on
  the regard of others1 on that of which
 the value  arises merely from          
comparison1 they are both exposed  to   
perpetual jealousies1 and both          
incessantly  employed in schemes to     
intercept the praises of each  other4   
,i am1 however1 far from intending to   
inculcate  that this confinement of the 
studious to studious  companions1 has   

been wholly without advantage to  the   
publick3 neighbourhood1 where it does   
not  conciliate friendship1 incites     
competition2 and he that  would         
contentedly rest in a lower degree of   
excellence1  where he had no rival to   
dread1 will be urged  by his impatience 
of inferiority to incessant  endeavours 
after great attainments4    ,these      
stimulations of honest rivalry are1     
perhaps1  the chief effects of academies
 and societies2 for  whatever be the    
bulk of their joint labours1 every      
single  piece is always the production  
of an individual1 that  owes nothing to 
his colleagues but the contagion of     
diligence1 a resolution to write1       
because the rest are  writing1 and the  
scorn of obscurity while the rest are   
illustriousg4       g ,it may not be    
uninteresting to place in immediate     
comparison  with this finished paper its
 first rough draught as given in        
,boswell1 vol4 i4  ,confederacies       
difficult2 why4    ,seldom in war a     

match for single persons--nor in peace2 
therefore kings make themselves         
absolute4  ,confederacies in            
learning--every great work the work of  
one4  ,bruy4  ,scholars  friendship like
 ladies4  ,scribebamus1 c4 ,mart4  ,the 
apple of  discord--the laurel of        
discord--the poverty of criticism4      
,swift's opinion of the power of six    
geniuses united4  ,that union  scarce   
possible4  ,his remarks just2--man a    
social1 not steady  nature4  ,drawn to  
man by words1 repelled by passions4     
,orb drawn  by attraction1 rep4 repelled
 by centrifugal4    ,common danger      
unites by crushing other passions--but  
they  return4  ,equality hinders        
compliance4  ,superiority produces      
insolence and envy4  ,too much regard in
 each to private  interest2--too little4
    ,the mischiefs of private and       
exclusive societies4--,the fitness  of  
social attraction diffused through the  
whole4  ,the mischiefs  of too partial  
love of our country4  ,contraction of   

moral duties4  gr ,oi filoi1 ou8 filos4 
,every man moves upon his own centre1   
and therefore repels others  from too   
near a contact1 though he may comply    
with some general  laws4    ,of         
confederacy with superiors every one    
knows the inconvenience4  ,with equals  
no authority2--every man his own        
opinion--his own  interest4    ,man and 
wife hardly united2--scarce ever without
 children4  ,computation1 if two to one 
against two1 how many against five8  ,if
 confederacies were easy--useless2--many
 oppresses many4--,if  possible only to 
some1 dangerous4  ,principum amicitias4 
,no4 #ej4 ,,saturday1 ,,april #bh1 #agec
     ,quincunque turpi fraude semel     
innotuit1   ,etiamsi verum dicit1       
amittit fidem4    ,,phaed4 ,lib4 i4     
,fab4 x4 #a4       ,the wretch that     
often has deceiv'd1   ,though truth he  
speaks1 is ne'er believ'd4    ,,when    
,aristotle was once asked1 what a man   
could gain by uttering falsehoods8 he   
replied1  ,not to be credited when he   

shall tell the truth4    ,the character 
of a liar is at once so hateful and     
contemptible1 that even of those who    
have lost  their virtue it might be     
expected that from the  violation of    
truth they should be restrained by      
their pride4  ,almost every other vice  
that disgraces  human nature1 may be    
kept in countenance by  applause and    
association3 the corrupter of virgin    
innocence sees himself envied by the    
men1 and at  least not detested by the  
women2 the drunkard may  easily unite   
with beings1 devoted like himself to    
noisy merriments or silent              
insensibility1 who will  celebrate his  
victories over the novices of           
intemperance1  boast themselves the     
companions of his prowess1  and tell    
with rapture of the multitudes whom     
unsuccessful emulation has hurried to   
the grave2  even the robber and the     
cut-throat have their  followers1 who   
admire their address and intrepidity1   
their stratagems of rapine1 and their   

fidelity to the  gang4    ,the liar1 and
 only the liar1 is invariably and       
universally despised1 abandoned1 and    
disowned3 he has  no domestick          
consolations1 which he can oppose to    
the censure of mankind2 he can retire to
 no fraternity1  where his crimes may   
stand in the place of  virtues2 but is  
given up to the hisses of the           
multitude1 without friend and without   
apologist4  ,it is  the peculiar        
condition of falsehood1 to be equally   
detested by the good and bad3  ,the     
devils1 says  ,sir ,thomas ,brown1 do   
not tell lies to one another2  for truth
 is necessary to all societies3 nor can 
the  society of hell subsist without it4
    ,it is natural to expect1 that a    
crime thus generally  detested should be
 generally avoided2 at least1 that  none
 should expose himself to unabated and  
unpitied infamy1 without an adequate    
temptation2  and that to guilt so easily
 detected1 and so severely  punished1 an
 adequate temptation would not readily  

be found4    ,yet so it is1 that in     
defiance of censure and  contempt1 truth
 is frequently violated2 and scarcely   
the  most vigilant and unremitted       
circumspection will  secure him that    
mixes with mankind1 from being  hourly  
deceived by men of whom it can scarcely 
be imagined1 that they mean any injury  
to him or  profit to themselves3 even   
where the subject of  conversation could
 not have been expected to put  the     
passions in motion1 or to have excited  
either  hope or fear1 or zeal or        
malignity1 sufficient to  induce any man
 to put his reputation in hazard1       
however little he might value it1 or to 
overpower the  love of truth1 however   
weak might be its influence4    ,the    
casuists have very diligently           
distinguished lies  into their several  
classes1 according to their various     
degrees of malignity3 but they have1 ,i 
think1  generally omitted that which is 
most common1 and  perhaps1 not least    
mischievous2 which1 since the  moralists

 have not given it a name1 ,i shall     
distinguish  as the ,,lie ,,of ,,vanity4
    ,to vanity may justly be imputed    
most of the  falsehoods which every man 
perceives hourly playing  upon his ear1 
and1 perhaps1 most of those that  are   
propagated with success4  ,to the lie of
  commerce1 and the lie of malice1 the  
motive is so  apparent1 that they are   
seldom negligently or  implicitly       
received2 suspicion is always watchful  
over  the practices of interest2 and    
whatever the hope of  gain1 or desire of
 mischief1 can prompt one man to        
assert1 another is by reasons equally   
cogent incited  to refute4  ,but vanity 
pleases herself with such slight        
gratifications1 and looks forward to    
pleasure so  remotely consequential1    
that her practices raise no  alarm1 and 
her stratagems are not easily           
discovered4    ,vanity is1 indeed1 often
 suffered to pass unpursued  by         
suspicion1 because he that would watch  
her motions1  can never be at rest3     

fraud and malice are  bounded in their  
influence2 some opportunity of  time and
 place is necessary to their agency2 but
  scarce any man is abstracted one      
moment from his  vanity2 and he1 to whom
 truth affords no gratifications1  is   
generally inclined to seek them in      
falsehoods4    ,it is remarked by ,sir  
,kenelm ,digby1 that every  man has a   
desire to appear superior to others1    
though  it were only in having seen what
 they have not seen4  ,such an          
accidental advantage1 since it neither  
implies merit1 nor confers dignity1 one 
would think  should not be desired so   
much as to be counterfeited3  yet even  
this vanity1 trifling as it is1 produces
  innumerable narratives1 all equally   
false2 but more or  less credible in    
proportion to the skill or confidence   
of the relater4  ,how many may a man of 
diffusive  conversation count among his 
acquaintances1 whose  lives have been   
signalized by numberless escapes2  who  
never cross the river but in a storm1 or

 take a  journey into the country       
without more adventures  than befel the 
knights-errant of ancient times in      
pathless forests or enchanted castles6  
,how many  must he know1 to whom        
portents and prodigies are  of daily    
occurrence2 and for whom nature is      
hourly  working wonders invisible to    
every other eye1 only  to supply them   
with subjects of conversation4          
,others there are that amuse themselves 
with the  dissemination of falsehood1 at
 greater hazard of  detection and       
disgrace2 men marked out by some lucky  
planet for universal confidence and     
friendship1 who  have been consulted in 
every difficulty1 intrusted  with every 
secret1 and summoned to every           
transaction3  it is the supreme felicity
 of these men1 to  stun all companies   
with noisy information2 to still  doubt1
 and overbear opposition1 with certain  
knowledge  or authentick intelligence4  
,a liar of this kind1  with a strong    
memory or brisk imagination1 is often   

the oracle of an obscure club1 and1 till
 time discovers  his impostures1        
dictates to his hearers with            
uncontrouled authority2 for if a publick
 question be  started1 he was present at
 the debate2 if a new  fashion be       
mentioned1 he was at court the first day
 of  its appearance2 if a new           
performance of literature  draws the    
attention of the publick1 he has        
patronized  the author1 and seen his    
work in manuscript2  if a criminal of   
eminence be condemned to die1 he  often 
predicted his fate1 and endeavoured his 
reformation3 and who that lives at a    
distance from  the scene of action1 will
 dare to contradict a man1  who reports 
from his own eyes and ears1 and to  whom
 all persons and affairs are thus       
intimately  known8    ,this kind of     
falsehood is generally successful for  a
 time1 because it is practised at first 
with timidity  and caution3 but the     
prosperity of the liar is of short      
duration2 the reception of one story is 

always an  incitement to the forgery of 
another less probable2  and he goes on  
to triumph over tacit credulity1 till   
pride or reason rises up against him1   
and his  companions will no longer      
endure to see him wiser than            
themselves4    ,it is apparent1 that the
 inventors of all these  fictions intend
 some exaltation of themselves1 and are 
led off by the pursuit of honour from   
their  attendance upon truth3 their     
narratives always imply  some           
consequence in favour of their courage1 
their  sagacity1 or their activity1     
their familiarity with the  learned1 or 
their reception among the great2 they   
are always bribed by the present        
pleasure of seeing  themselves superior 
to those that surround them1  and       
receiving the homage of silent attention
 and  envious admiration4    ,but vanity
 is sometimes excited to fiction by less
  visible gratifications3 the present   
age abounds with  a race of liars who   
are content with the consciousness  of  

falsehood1 and whose pride is to deceive
 others  without any gain or glory to   
themselves4  ,of this  tribe it is the  
supreme pleasure to remark a lady in the
  playhouse or the park1 and to publish1
 under the  character of a man suddenly 
enamoured1 an advertisement  in the news
 of the next day1 containing a  minute  
description of her person and her dress4
  ,from  this artifice1 however1 no     
other effect can be  expected1 than     
perturbations which the writer can      
never see1 and conjectures of which he  
never can be  informed2 some mischief1  
however1 he hopes he has  done2 and to  
have done mischief1 is of some          
importance4  ,he sets his invention to  
work again1 and produces  a narrative of
 a robbery or a murder1 with all  the   
circumstances of time and place         
accurately  adjusted4  ,this is a jest  
of greater effect and longer  duration3 
if he fixes his scene at a proper       
distance1 he  may for several days keep 
a wife in terrour for her  husband1 or a

 mother for her son2 and please himself 
with reflecting1 that by his abilities  
and address some  addition is made to   
the miseries of life4    ,there is1 ,i  
think1 an ancient law of ,scotland1 by  
which ,,leasing-,,making was capitally  
punished4  ,i am1  indeed1 far from     
desiring to increase in this kingdom    
the number of executions2 yet ,i cannot 
but think1  that they who destroy the   
confidence of society1  weaken the      
credit of intelligence1 and interrupt   
the  security of life2 harass the       
delicate with shame1 and  perplex the   
timorous with alarms2 might very        
properly  be awakened to a sense of     
their crimes1 by  denunciations of a    
whipping-post or pillory3 since  many   
are so insensible of right and wrong1   
that they  have no standard of action   
but the law2 nor feel  guilt1 but as    
they dread punishment4        ,no4 #ec4 
,,tuesday1 ,,may #h1 #agec     ,quisque 
suos patimur manes4  ,,virg4 ,a,en4     
,lib4 vi4 #gdc4     ,each has his lot1  

and bears the fate he drew4      ,,sir1 
,fleet1 ,may #f4    ,,in consequence of 
my engagements1 ,i address you  once    
more from the habitations of misery4    
,in this  place1 from which business and
 pleasure are equally  excluded1 and in 
which our only employment and  diversion
 is to hear the narratives of each      
other1 ,i  might much sooner have       
gathered materials for a  letter1 had ,i
 not hoped to have been reminded of  my 
promise2 but since ,i find myself placed
 in the  regions of oblivion1 where ,i  
am no less neglected by  you than by the
 rest of mankind1 ,i resolved no  longer
 to wait for solicitation1 but stole    
early this  evening from between gloomy 
sullenness and riotous  merriment1 to   
give you an account of part of my       
companions4    ,one of the most eminent 
members of our club is  ,mr4 ,edward    
,scamper1 a man of whose name the       
,olympick heroes would not have been    
ashamed4  ,ned  was born to a small     
estate1 which he determined to  improve2

 and therefore1 as soon as he became of 
age1  mortgaged part of his land to buy 
a mare and stallion1  and bred horses   
for the course4  ,he was at first  very 
successful1 and gained several of the   
king's  plates1 as he is now every day  
boasting1 at the  expense of very little
 more than ten times their value4  ,at  
last1 however1 he discovered1 that      
victory brought  him more honour than   
profit3 resolving1 therefore1  to be    
rich as well as illustrious1 he         
replenished his  pockets by another     
mortgage1 became on a sudden  a daring  
bettor1 and resolving not to trust a    
jockey  with his fortune1 rode his horse
 himself1 distanced  two of his         
competitors the first heat1 and at last 
won the race by forcing his horse on a  
descent to full  speed at the hazard of 
his neck4  ,his estate was thus         
repaired1 and some friends that had no  
souls advised  him to give over2 but    
,ned now knew the way to  riches1 and   
therefore without caution increased his 

expenses4  ,from this hour he talked and
 dreamed of  nothing but a horse-race2  
and rising soon to the summit  of       
equestrian reputation1 he was constantly
 expected  on every course1 divided all 
his time between  lords and jockeys1    
and1 as the unexperienced  regulated    
their bets by his example1 gained a     
great deal  of money by laying openly on
 one horse and secretly  on the other4  
,ned was now so sure of growing rich1   
that he involved his estate in a third  
mortgage1  borrowed money of all his    
friends1 and risked his whole  fortune  
upon ,bay ,lincoln4  ,he mounted with   
beating  heart1 started fair1 and won   
the first heat2 but in  the second1 as  
he was pushing against the foremost  of 
his rivals1 his girth broke1 his        
shoulder was  dislocated1 and before he 
was dismissed by the surgeon1  two      
bailiffs fastened upon him1 and he saw  
,newmarket no more4  ,his daily         
amusement for four  years has been to   
blow the signal for starting1 to  make  

imaginary matches1 to repeat the        
pedigree  of ,bay ,lincoln1 and to form 
resolutions against  trusting another   
groom with the choice of his girth4     
,the next in seniority is ,mr4 ,timothy 
,snug1 a  man of deep contrivance and   
impenetrable secrecy4  ,his father died 
with the reputation of more wealth  than
 he possessed3 ,tim1 therefore1 entered 
the world  with a reputed fortune of ten
 thousand pounds4  ,of  this he very    
well knew that eight thousand was       
imaginary3 but being a man of refined   
policy1 and  knowing how much honour is 
annexed to riches1  he resolved never to
 detect his own poverty2 but  furnished 
his house with elegance1 scattered his  
money with profusion1 encouraged every  
scheme  of costly pleasure1 spoke of    
petty losses with  negligence1 and on   
the day before an execution entered  his
 doors1 had proclaimed at a publick     
table his  resolution to be jolted no   
longer in a hackney coach4    ,another  
of my companions is the magnanimous     

,jack ,scatter1 the son of a country    
gentleman1 who1  having no other care   
than to leave him rich1  considered that
 literature could not be had without    
expense2 masters would not teach for    
nothing2 and  when a book was bought and
 read1 it would sell for  little4  ,jack
 was1 therefore1 taught to read and     
write  by the butler2 and when this     
acquisition was made1  was left to pass 
his days in the kitchen and stable1     
where he heard no crime censured but    
covetousness  and distrust of poor      
honest servants1 and where all  the     
praise was bestowed on good             
housekeeping1  and a free heart4  ,at   
the death of his father1 ,jack  set     
himself to retrieve the honour of his   
family3  he abandoned his cellar to the 
butler1 ordered his  groom to provide   
hay and corn at discretion1 took  his   
housekeeper's word for the expenses of  
the  kitchen1 allowed all his servants  
to do their work  by deputies1 permitted
 his domesticks to keep his  house open 

to their relations and acquaintance1 and
  in ten years was conveyed hither1     
without having  purchased by the loss of
 his patrimony either honour  or        
pleasure1 or obtained any other         
gratification  than that of having      
corrupted the neighbouring  villagers by
 luxury and idleness4    ,dick ,serge   
was a draper in ,cornhill1 and passed   
eight years in prosperous diligence1    
without any  care but to keep his books1
 or any ambition but to  be in time an  
alderman3 but then1 by some             
unaccountable revolution in his         
understanding1 he  became enamoured of  
wit and humour1 despised the            
conversation of pedlars and             
stock-jobbers1 and  rambled every night 
to the regions of gaiety1 in quest  of  
company suited to his taste4  ,the wits 
at first  flocked about him for sport1  
and afterwards for  interest2 some found
 their way into his books1 and  some    
into his pockets2 the man of adventure  
was  equipped from his shop for the     

pursuit of a fortune2  and he had       
sometimes the honour to have his        
security accepted when his friends were 
in distress4  ,elated with these        
associations1 he soon learned to        
neglect his shop2 and having drawn his  
money out  of the funds1 to avoid the   
necessity of teasing men  of honour for 
trifling debts1 he has been forced at   
last to retire hither1 till his friends 
can procure him  a post at court4       
,another that joins in the same mess is 
,bob ,cornice1  whose life has been     
spent in fitting up a house4  ,about ten
 years ago ,bob purchased the country   
habitation of a bankrupt3 the mere shell
 of a building  ,bob holds no great     
matter2 the inside is the  test of      
elegance4  ,of this house he was no     
sooner  master than he summoned twenty  
workmen to his  assistance1 tore up the 
floors and laid them anew1  stripped off
 the wainscot1 drew the windows from    
their frames1 altered the disposition of
 doors and  fire-places1 and cast the   

whole fabrick into a new  form3 his next
 care was to have his ceilings painted1 
his pannels gilt1 and his chimney-pieces
 carved3  every thing was executed by   
the ablest hands3  ,bob's business was  
to follow the workmen with a            
microscope1 and call upon them to       
retouch their  performances1 and        
heighten excellence to perfection4  ,the
 reputation of his house now brings     
round him  a daily confluence of        
visitants1 and every one tells  him of  
some elegance which he has hitherto     
overlooked1 some convenience not yet    
procured1 or  some new mode in ornament 
or furniture4  ,bob1 who  had no wish   
but to be admired1 nor any guide but    
the fashion1 thought every thing        
beautiful in  proportion as it was new1 
and considered his work as  unfinished1 
while any observer could suggest an     
addition1 some alteration was therefore 
every day made1  without any other      
motive than the charms of novelty4  ,a  
traveller at last suggested to him the  

convenience  of a grotto3  ,bob         
immediately ordered the mount of  his   
garden to be excavated3 and having laid 
out a  large sum in shells and minerals1
 was busy in regulating  the disposition
 of the colours and lustres1 when  two  
gentlemen1 who had asked permission to  
see  his gardens1 presented him a writ1 
and led him off  to less elegant        
apartments4    ,i know not1 ,sir1       
whether among this fraternity  of sorrow
 you will think any much to be pitied2  
nor  indeed do many of them appear to   
solicit compassion1  for they generally 
applaud their own conduct1  and despise 
those whom want of taste or spirit      
suffers  to grow rich4  ,it were happy  
if the prisons of the  kingdom were     
filled only with characters like these1 
men whom prosperity could not make      
useful1 and  whom ruin cannot make wise3
 but there are among us  many who raise 
different sensations1 many that owe     
their present misery to the seductions  
of treachery1  the strokes of casualty1 

or the tenderness of pity2  many whose  
sufferings disgrace society1 and whose  
virtues would adorn it3 of these1 when  
familiarity  shall have enabled me to   
recount their stories without  horrour1 
you may expect another narrative from   
,sir1 ,your most humble servant1        
,,misargyrus4        ,no4 #eh4          
,,saturday1 ,,may #be1 #agec            
,damnant guod non intelligunt4  ,,cic4  
,they condemn what they do not          
understand4    ,,euripides1 having      
presented ,socrates with  the writings  
of ,heraclitush1 a philosopher famed    
for involution and obscurity1 inquired  
afterwards his  opinion of their merit4 
,what ,i understand1 said  ,socrates1 ,i
 find to be excellent2 and1 therefore1  
believe that to be of equal value which 
,i cannot  understand4       h ,the     
obscurity of this philosopher's style is
 complained of  by ,aristotle in his    
treatise on ,rhetoric1 iii4 #e4  ,we    
make the  reference with the view of    
recommending to attention the whole of  

that book1 which is interspersed with   
the most acute remarks1 and  with rules 
of criticism founded deeply on the      
workings of the  human mind4  ,it is    
undervalued only by those who have not  
scholarship to read it1 and surely      
merits this slight tribute of           
admiration from an ,editor of ,johnson's
 works1 with whom a  ,translation of the
 ,rhetoric was long a favourite project4
      ,the reflection of every man who  
reads this passage  will suggest to him 
the difference between the practice  of 
,socrates1 and that of modern criticks3 
,socrates1  who had1 by long observation
 upon himself  and others1 discovered   
the weakness of the strongest1  and the 
dimness of the most enlightened         
intellect1  was afraid to decide hastily
 in his own favour1 or to  conclude that
 an author had written without meaning1 
because he could not immediately catch  
his  ideas2 he knew that the faults of  
books are often  more justly imputable  
to the reader1 who sometimes  wants     

attention1 and sometimes penetration2   
whose  understanding is often obstructed
 by prejudice1 and  often dissipated by 
remissness2 who comes sometimes  to a   
new study1 unfurnished with knowledge   
previously necessary2 and finds         
difficulties insuperable1  for want of  
ardour sufficient to encounter them4    
,obscurity and clearness are relative   
terms3 to some  readers scarce any book 
is easy1 to others not many  are        
difficult3 and surely they1 whom neither
 any  exuberant praise bestowed by      
others1 nor any eminent  conquests over 
stubborn problems1 have entitled to     
exalt themselves above the common orders
 of mankind1  might condescend to       
imitate the candour of  ,socrates2 and  
where they find incontestable proofs  of
 superior genius1 be content to think   
that there is  justness in the connexion
 which they cannot trace1  and cogency  
in the reasoning which they cannot      
comprehend4    ,this diffidence is never
 more reasonable than in  the perusal of

 the authors of antiquity2 of those     
whose works have been the delight of    
ages1 and  transmitted as the great     
inheritance of mankind  from one        
generation to another3 surely1 no man   
can1  without the utmost arrogance1     
imagine that he  brings any superiority 
of understanding to the perusal  of     
these books which have been preserved in
 the  devastations of cities1 and       
snatched up from the  wreck of nations2 
which those who fled before  barbarians 
have been careful to carry off in a     
hurry of  migration1 and of which       
barbarians have repented  the           
destruction4  ,if in books thus made    
venerable by  the uniform attestation of
 successive ages1 any  passages shall   
appear unworthy of that praise which    
they  have formerly received1 let us not
 immediately  determine1 that they owed 
their reputation to dulness  or bigotry2
 but suspect at least that our ancestors
  had some reasons for their opinions1  
and that our  ignorance of those reasons

 makes us differ from them4    ,it often
 happens that an author's reputation is 
endangered in succeeding times1 by that 
which  raised the loudest applause among
 his contemporaries3  nothing is read   
with greater pleasure than allusions  to
 recent facts1 reigning opinions1 or    
present  controversies2 but when facts  
are forgotten1 and  controversies       
extinguished1 these favourite touches   
lose all their graces2 and the author in
 his descent  to posterity must be left 
to the mercy of chance1  without any    
power of ascertaining the memory of     
those things1 to which he owed his      
luckiest thoughts  and his kindest      
reception4    ,on such occasions1 every 
reader should remember  the diffidence  
of ,socrates1 and repair by his candour 
the injuries of time3 he should impute  
the seeming  defects of his author to   
some chasm of intelligence1  and suppose
 that the sense which is now weak was   
once forcible1 and the expression which 
is now dubious  formerly determinate4   

,how much the mutilation of ancient     
history has  taken away from the beauty 
of poetical performances1  may be       
conjectured from the light which a      
lucky commentator sometimes effuses1 by 
the  recovery of an incident that had   
been long forgotten3  thus1 in the third
 book of ,horace1 ,juno's denunciations 
against those that should presume to    
raise  again the walls of ,troy1 could  
for many ages please  only by splendid  
images and swelling language1 of  which 
no man discovered the use or propriety1 
till  ,le ,fevre1 by showing on what    
occasion the ,ode  was written1 changed 
wonder to rational delight4  ,many      
passages yet undoubtedly remain in the  
same  author1 which an exacter knowledge
 of the incidents  of his time would    
clear from objections4  ,among  these ,i
 have always numbered the following     
lines3       ,aurum per medios ire      
satellites1   ,et perrumpere amat saxa1 
potentius       ,ictu fulmineo4         
,concidit auguris            ,argivi    

domus ob lucrum   ,demersa exitio4      
,diffidit urbium   ,portas vir ,macedo1 
et subruit aemulos   ,regis muneribus3  
,munera navium   ,saevos illaqueant     
duces4  ,,hor4 ,lib4 iii4 ,ode xvi4 #i4 
,stronger than thunder's winged force1  
,all-powerful gold can spread its       
course1   ,thro' watchful guards its    
passage make1   ,and loves thro' solid  
walls to break3   ,from gold the        
overwhelming woes   ,that crush'd the   
,grecian augur rose3   ,philip with gold
 thro' cities broke1   ,and rival       
monarchs felt his yoke2   ,captains of  
ships to gold are slaves1   ,tho' fierce
 as their own winds and waves4          
,,francis4      ,the close of this      
passage1 by which every reader is  now  
disappointed and offended1 was probably 
the  delight of the ,roman ,court3 it   
cannot be imagined1  that ,horace1 after
 having given to gold the force of      
thunder1 and told of its power to storm 
cities and to  conquer kings1 would have
 concluded his account of  its efficacy 

with its influence over naval           
commanders1  had he not alluded to some 
fact then current in the  mouths of men1
 and therefore more interesting for  a  
time than the conquests of ,philip4  ,of
 the like kind  may be reckoned another 
stanza in the same book3       --,jussa 
coram non sine conscio   ,surgit marito1
 seu vocat institor1   ,seu navis       
,hispanae magister1   ,dedecorum        
pretiosus emptor4  ,,hor4 ,lib4 iii4    
,ode4 vi4 #bi4     ,the conscious       
husband bids her rise1   ,when some rich
 factor courts her charms1   ,who calls 
the wanton to his arms1   ,and1 prodigal
 of wealth and fame1   ,profusely buys  
the costly shame4  ,,francis4      ,he  
has little knowledge of ,horace who     
imagines  that the ,,factor1 or the     
,,spanish ,,merchant1 are  mentioned by 
chance3 there was undoubtedly some      
popular story of an intrigue1 which     
those names recalled  to the memory of  
his reader4    ,the flame of his genius 
in other parts1 though  somewhat dimmed 

by time1 is not totally eclipsed2  his  
address and judgment yet appear1 though 
much  of the spirit and vigour of his   
sentiment is lost3 this  has happened in
 the twentieth ,ode of the first book3  
,vile potabis modicis ,sabinum          
,cantharis1 ,graeca quod ego ipse testa 
,conditum levi1 datus in theatro        
,cum tibi plausus1   ,care ,moecenas    
eques3 ut paterni   ,fluminis ripae1    
simul et jocosa   ,redderet laudes tibi 
,vaticani            ,montis imago4     
,a poet's beverage humbly cheap1        
7,should great ,maecenas be my guest17  
,the vintage of the ,sabine grape1      
,but yet in sober cups shall crown the  
feast3   ',twas rack'd into a ,grecian  
cask1       ,its rougher juice to melt  
away2   ,i seal'd it too--a pleasing    
task6       ,with annual joy to mark the
 glorious day1   ,when in applausive    
shouts thy name       ,spread from the  
theatre around1   ,floating on thy own  
,tiber's stream1       ,and ,echo1      
playful nymph1 return'd the sound4      

,,francis4    ,we here easily remark the
 intertexture of a happy  compliment    
with an humble invitation2 but certainly
  are less delighted than those1 to whom
 the  mention of the applause bestowed  
upon ,maecenas1  gave occasion to       
recount the actions or words that       
produced it4    ,two lines which have   
exercised the ingenuity of  modern      
criticks1 may1 ,i think1 be reconciled  
to the  judgment1 by an easy            
supposition3  ,horace thus  addresses   
,agrippa3       ,scriberis ,vario       
fortis1 et hostium   ,victor1 ,maeonii  
carminis alite4  ,hon4 ,lib4 i4 ,ode vi4
 #a4     ,varius1 a swan of ,homer's    
wing1   ,shall brave ,agrippa's         
conquests sing4      ,that ,varius      
should be called ,a bird of ,homeric    
song1 appears so harsh to modern ears1  
that an  emendation of the text has been
 proposed3 but  surely the learning of  
the ancients had been long ago          
obliterated1 had every man thought      
himself at liberty  to corrupt the lines

 which he did not understand4  ,if we   
imagine that ,varius had been by any of 
his contemporaries celebrated under the 
appellation  of ,musarum ales1 the swan 
of the ,muses1 the  language of ,horace 
becomes graceful and familiar2  and that
 such a compliment was at least         
possible1  we know from the             
transformation feigned by ,horace  of   
himself4    ,the most elegant compliment
 that was paid to  ,addison1 is of this 
obscure and perishable kind2       ,when
 panting ,virtue her last efforts made1 
,you brought your ,clio to the virgin's 
aid4      ,these lines must please as   
long as they are understood2  but can be
 understood only by those that have     
observed ,addison's signatures in the   
,spectator4    ,the nicety of these     
minute allusions ,i shall  exemplify by 
another instance1 which ,i take this    
occasion to mention1 because1 as ,i am  
told1 the  commentators have omitted it4
  ,tibullus addressed  ,cynthia in this 
manner3       ,te spectem1 suprema mihi 

cum venerit hora1       ,te teneam      
moriens deficiente manu4  ,lib4 i4 ,el4 
i4 #gc4     ,before my closing eyes dear
 ,cynthia stand1   ,held weakly by my   
fainting trembling hand4      ,to these 
lines ,ovid thus refers in his ,elegy on
 the  death of ,tibullus3       ,cynthia
 discedens1 ,felicius1 inquit1 amata    
,sum tibi2 vixisti dum tuus ignis eram4 
,cui ,nemesis1 quid1 ait1 tibi sint mea 
damna dolori8       ,me tenuit moriens  
deficiente manu4  ,am4 ,lib4 iii4 ,el4  
ix4  #ef4     ,blest was my reign1      
retiring ,cynthia cry'd2   ,not till he 
left my breast1 ,tibullus dy'd4         
,forbear1 said ,nemesis1 my loss to     
moan1   ,the ,,fainting ,,trembling     
,,hand was mine alone4      ,the beauty 
of this passage1 which consists in the  
appropriation made by ,nemesis of the   
line originally  directed to ,cynthia1  
had been wholly imperceptible  to       
succeeding ages1 had chance1 which has  
destroyed so many greater volumes1      
deprived us  likewise of the poems of   

,tibullus4        ,no4 #fb4 ,,saturday1 
,,june #i1 #agec     ,of fortuna viris1 
invida fortibus   ,quam non aequa bonis 
praemia diridis4  ,,seneca4             
,capricious ,fortune ever joys1   ,with 
partial hand to deal the prize1   ,to   
crush the brave and cheat the wise4     
,,to ,,the ,,adventurer1    ,,sir1      
,fleet1 ,june #f4    ,,to the account of
 such of my companions as  are          
imprisoned without being miserable1 or  
are  miserable without any claim to     
compassion1 ,i promised  to add the     
histories of those1 whose virtue  has   
made them unhappy or whose misfortunes  
are at least without a crime4  ,that    
this catalogue  should be very numerous1
 neither you nor your  readers ought to 
expect3 rari quippe boni2 the  good are 
few4  ,virtue is uncommon in all the    
classes of humanity2 and ,i suppose it  
will scarcely  be imagined more frequent
 in a prison than in  other places4     
,yet in these gloomy regions is to be   
found the  tenderness1 the generosity1  

the philanthropy of  ,serenus1 who might
 have lived in competence and  ease1 if 
he could have looked without emotion on 
the miseries of another4  ,serenus was  
one of those  exalted minds1 whom       
knowledge and sagacity could  not make  
suspicious2 who poured out his soul in  
boundless intimacy1 and thought         
community of  possessions the law of    
friendship4  ,the friend of  ,serenus   
was arrested for debt1 and after many   
endeavours  to soften his creditor1 sent
 his wife to solicit  that assistance   
which never was refused4  ,the tears    
and importunity of female distress were 
more than  was necessary to move the    
heart of ,serenus2 he  hasted           
immediately away1 and conferring a long 
time with his friend1 found him         
confident that if  the present pressure 
was taken off1 he should soon  be able  
to re-establish his affairs4  ,serenus1 
accustomed to believe1 and afraid to    
aggravate distress1  did not attempt to 
detect the fallacies of hope1 nor       

reflect that every man overwhelmed with 
calamity  believes1 that if that was    
removed he shall immediately  be happy3 
he1 therefore1 with little hesitation   
offered himself as surety4    ,in the   
first raptures of escape all was joy1   
gratitude1  and confidence3 the friend  
of ,serenus displayed  his prospects1   
and counted over the sums of  which he  
should infallibly be master before the  
day  of payment4  ,serenus in a short   
time began to find  his danger1 but     
could not prevail with himself to       
repent of beneficence2 and therefore    
suffered himself  still to be amused    
with projects which he durst  not       
consider1 for fear of finding them      
impracticable4  ,the debtor1 after he   
had tried every method of  raising money
 which art or indigence could prompt1   
wanted either fidelity or resolution to 
surrender  himself to prison1 and left  
,serenus to take his place4    ,serenus 
has often proposed to the creditor1 to  
pay  him whatever he shall appear to    

have lost by the  flight of his friend3 
but however reasonable this  proposal   
may be thought1 avarice and brutality   
have  been hitherto inexorable1 and     
,serenus still continues  to languish in
 prison4    ,in this place1 however1    
where want makes almost  every man      
selfish1 or desperation gloomy1 it is   
the  good fortune of ,serenus not to    
live without a friend3  he passes most  
of his hours in the conversation of     
,candidus1 a man whom the same virtuous 
ductility  has1 with some difference of 
circumstances1 made  equally unhappy4   
,candidus1 when he was young1  helpless1
 and ignorant1 found a patron that      
educated1  protected1 and supported him1
 his patron being  more vigilant for    
others than himself1 left at his  death 
an only son1 destitute and friendless4  
,candidus  was eager to repay the       
benefits he had received2 and  having   
maintained the youth for a few years at 
his  own house1 afterwards placed him   
with a merchant  of eminence1 and gave  

bonds to a great value as a  security   
for his conduct4    ,the young man1     
removed too early from the only  eye of 
which he dreaded the observation1 and   
deprived  of the only instruction which 
he heard with  reverence1 soon learned  
to consider virtue as restraint1  and   
restraint as oppression3 and to look    
with a  longing eye at every expense to 
which he could not  reach1 and every    
pleasure which he could not partake3  by
 degrees he deviated from his first     
regularity1  and unhappily mingling     
among young men busy  in dissipating the
 gains of their fathers' industry1 he   
forgot the precepts of ,candidus1 spent 
the evening  in parties of pleasure1 and
 the morning in expedients  to support  
his riots4  ,he was1 however1 dexterous 
and  active in business3 and his master1
 being secured  against any consequences
 of dishonesty1 was very  little        
solicitous to inspect his manners1 or to
 inquire  how he passed those hours1    
which were not immediately  devoted to  

the business of his profession3  when he
 was informed of the young man's        
extravagance or debauchery1 let his     
bondsman look to  that1 said he1 ,i have
 taken care of myself4    ,thus the     
unhappy spendthrift proceeded from      
folly to folly1 and from vice to vice1  
with the  connivance1 if not the        
encouragement1 of his master2 till  in  
the heat of a nocturnal revel he        
committed such  violences in the street 
as drew upon him a criminal             
prosecution4  ,guilty and unexperienced1
 he knew not  what course to take3 to   
confess his crime to ,candidus1  and    
solicit his interposition1 was little   
less dreadful  than to stand before the 
frown of a court of justice4  ,having1  
therefore1 passed the day with anguish  
in  his heart and distraction in his    
looks1 he seized at  night a very large 
sum of money in the compting-  house1   
and setting out he knew not whither1 was
  heard of no more4    ,the consequence 
of his flight was the ruin of           

,candidus2 ruin surely undeserved and   
irreproachable1  and such as the laws of
 a just government ought  either to     
prevent or repair3 nothing is more      
inequitable  than that one man should   
suffer for the crimes  of another1 for  
crimes which he neither prompted  nor   
permitted1 which he could neither       
foresee nor  prevent4  ,when we consider
 the weakness of human  resolutions and 
the inconsistency of human conduct1  it 
must appear absurd that one man shall   
engage for  another1 that he will not   
change his opinions or alter  his       
conduct4    ,it is1 ,i think1 worthy of 
consideration1 whether1  since no wager 
is binding without a possibility of loss
  on each side1 it is not equally       
reasonable1 that no  contract should be 
valid without reciprocal stipulations2  
but in this case1 and others of the same
 kind1 what  is stipulated on his side  
to whom the bond is given8  he takes    
advantage of the security1 neglects his 
affairs1 omits his duty1 suffers        

timorous wickedness to  grow daring by  
degrees1 permits appetite to call for   
new gratifications1 and1 perhaps1       
secretly longs for the  time in which he
 shall have power to seize the          
forfeiture2 and if virtue or gratitude  
should prove too  strong for temptation1
 and a young man persist in  honesty1   
however instigated by his passions1 what
  can secure him at last against a false
 accusation8  ,i  for my part always    
shall suspect1 that he who can  by such 
methods secure his property1 will go one
  step further to increase it2 nor can  
,i think that man  safely trusted with  
the means of mischief1 who1 by  his     
desire to have them in his hands1 gives 
an  evident proof how much less he      
values his neighbour's  happiness than  
his own4    ,another of our companions  
is ,lentulus1 a man  whose dignity of   
birth was very ill supported by  his    
fortune4  ,as some of the first offices 
in the  kingdom were filled by his      
relations1 he was early  invited to     

court1 and encouraged by caresses and   
promises to attendance and solicitation2
 a constant  appearance in splendid     
company necessarily  required           
magnificence of dress2 and a frequent   
participation of fashionable amusements 
forced him  into expense3 but these     
measures were requisite  to his success2
 since every body knows1 that to be     
lost to sight is to be lost to          
remembrance1 and that  he who desires to
 fill a vacancy1 must be always at      
hand1 lest some man of greater vigilance
 should  step in before him4    ,by this
 course of life his little fortune was  
every  day made less3 but he received so
 many distinctions  in publick1 and was 
known to resort so familiarly  to the   
houses of the great1 that every man     
looked  on his preferment as certain1   
and believed that its  value would      
compensate for its slowness3 he1        
therefore1  found no difficulty in      
obtaining credit for all  that his rank 
or his vanity made necessary3 and1 as   

ready payment was not expected1 the     
bills were  proportionably enlarged1 and
 the value of the hazard  or delay was  
adjusted solely by the equity of  the   
creditor4  ,at length death deprived    
,lentulus  of one of his patrons1 and a 
revolution in the  ministry of another2 
so that all his prospects vanished  at  
once1 and those that had before         
encouraged his  expenses1 began to      
perceive that their money was  in       
danger2 there was now no other          
contention but  who should first seize  
upon his person1 and1 by  forcing       
immediate payment1 deliver him up naked 
to the vengeance of the rest4  ,in      
pursuance of this  scheme1 one of them  
invited him to a tavern1 and  procured  
him to be arrested at the door2 but     
,lentulus1  instead of endeavouring     
secretly to pacify him  by payment1 gave
 notice to the rest1 and offered to     
divide amongst them the remnant of his  
fortune3  they feasted six hours at his 
expense1 to deliberate  on his proposal2

 and at last determined1 that as he     
could not offer more than five shillings
 in the pound1  it would be more prudent
 to keep him in prison1  till he could  
procure from his relations the payment  
of his debts4    ,lentulus is not the   
only man confined within  these walls1  
on the same account3 the like procedure1
  upon the like motives1 is common among
 men whom  yet the law allows to partake
 the use of fire and water  with the    
compassionate and the just2 who frequent
  the assemblies of commerce in open    
day1 and talk  with detestation and     
contempt of highwaymen or               
housebreakers3 but1 surely1 that man    
must be confessedly  robbed1 who is     
compelled1 by whatever means1  to pay   
the debts which he does not owe3 nor can
 ,i  look with equal hatred upon him1   
who1 at the hazard  of his life1 holds  
out his pistol and demands my  purse1 as
 on him who plunders under shelter of   
the  law1 and by detaining my son or my 
friend in prison1  extorts from me the  

price of their liberty4  ,no  man can be
 more an enemy to society than he1 by   
whose machinations our virtues are      
turned to our  disadvantage2 he is less 
destructive to mankind  that plunders   
cowardice1 than he that preys upon      
compassion4    ,i believe1 ,mr4         
,adventurer1 you will readily  confess1 
that though not one of these1 if tried  
before a  commercial judicature1 can be 
wholly acquitted from  imprudence or    
temerity2 yet that1 in the eye of all   
who can consider virtue as distinct from
 wealth1 the  fault of two of them1 at  
least1 is outweighed by the  merit2 and 
that of the third is so much extenuated 
by the circumstances of his life1 as not
 to deserve a  perpetual prison3 yet    
must these1 with multitudes  equally    
blameless1 languish in confinement1 till
  malevolence shall relent1 or the law  
be changed4    ,i am1 ,sir1    ,your    
humble servant1    ,,misargyrus4#fh     
,no4 #fg4 ,,tuesday1 ,,june #bf1 #agec  
,inventas----vitam excoluere per artes4 

,,virg4 ,a,en4 vi4 #ffc4       ,they    
polish life by useful arts4    ,,that   
familiarity produces neglect1 has been  
long observed4  ,the effect of all      
external objects1  however great or     
splendid1 ceases with their novelty2    
the courtier stands without emotion in  
the royal  presence3 the rustick        
tramples under his foot the  beauties of
 the spring with little attention to    
their  colours or their fragrance2 and  
the inhabitant of the  coast darts his  
eye upon the immense diffusion of       
waters1 without awe1 wonder1 or terrour4
    ,those who have past much of their  
lives in this  great city1 look upon its
 opulence and its multitudes1  its      
extent and variety1 with cold           
indifference2 but an  inhabitant of the 
remoter parts of the kingdom is         
immediately distinguished by a kind of  
dissipated  curiosity1 a busy endeavour 
to divide his attention  amongst a      
thousand objects1 and a wild confusion  
of  astonishment and alarm4    ,the     

attention of a new comer is generally   
first  struck by the multiplicity of    
cries that stun him in  the streets1 and
 the variety of merchandize and         
manufactures which the shopkeepers      
expose on  every hand2 and he is apt1 by
 unwary bursts of  admiration1 to excite
 the merriment and contempt  of those   
who mistake the use of their eyes for   
effects  of their understanding1 and    
confound accidental  knowledge with just
 reasoning4    ,but1 surely1 these are  
subjects on which any man  may without  
reproach employ his meditations3 the    
innumerable occupations1 among which the
 thousands  that swarm in the streets of
 ,london1 are distributed1  may furnish 
employment to minds of every  cast1 and 
capacities of every degree4  ,he that   
contemplates the extent of this         
wonderful city1 finds it  difficult to  
conceive1 by what method plenty is      
maintained in our markets1 and how the  
inhabitants are  regularly supplied with
 the necessaries of life2 but  when he  

examines the shops and warehouses1 sees 
the immense stores of every kind of     
merchandize  piled up for sale1 and runs
 over all the manufactures  of art and  
products of nature1 which are every     
where  attracting his eye and soliciting
 his purse1 he will be  inclined to     
conclude1 that such quantities cannot   
easily be exhausted1 and that part of   
mankind must  soon stand still for want 
of employment1 till the wares  already  
provided shall be worn out and          
destroyed4    ,as ,socrates was passing 
through the fair at ,athens1  and       
casting his eyes over the shops and     
customers1  how many things are here1   
says he1 that  ,i do not want6  ,the    
same sentiment is every  moment rising  
in the mind of him that walks the       
streets  of ,london1 however inferior in
 philosophy to  ,socrates3 he beholds a 
thousand shops crowded with  goods1 of  
which he can scarcely tell the use1 and 
which1 therefore1 he is apt to consider 
as of no value3  and indeed1 many of the

 arts by which families are  supported1 
and wealth is heaped together1 are of   
that  minute and superfluous kind1 which
 nothing but  experience could evince   
possible to be prosecuted with          
advantage1 and which1 as the world might
 easily  want1 it could scarcely be     
expected to encourage4    ,but so it is1
 that custom1 curiosity1 or  wantonness1
 supplies every art with patrons1 and   
finds  purchasers for every manufacture2
 the world is so  adjusted1 that not    
only bread1 but riches may be  obtained 
without great abilities or arduous      
performances3 the most unskilful hand   
and unenlightened  mind have sufficient 
incitements to industry2 for  he that is
 resolutely busy1 can scarcely be in    
want4  ,there is1 indeed1 no employment1
 however despicable1  from which a man  
may not promise himself  more than      
competence1 when he sees thousands and  
myriads raised to dignity1 by no other  
merit than  that of contributing to     
supply their neighbours with  the means 

of sucking smoke through a tube of clay2
  and others raising contributions upon 
those1 whose  elegance disdains the     
grossness of smoky luxury1 by  grinding 
the same materials into a powder that   
may  at once gratify and impair the     
smell4    ,not only by these popular and
 modish trifles1  but by a thousand     
unheeded and evanescent kinds  of       
business1 are the multitudes of this    
city preserved  from idleness1 and      
consequently from want4  ,in the        
endless variety of tastes and           
circumstances that  diversify mankind1  
nothing is so superfluous1 but that     
some one desires it3 or so common1 but  
that some  one is compelled to buy it4  
,as nothing is useless  but because it  
is in improper hands1 what is thrown    
away by one is gathered up by another2  
and the  refuse of part of mankind      
furnishes a subordinate  class with the 
materials necessary to their support4   
,when ,i look round upon those who are  
thus  variously exerting their          

qualifications1 ,i cannot but  admire   
the secret concatenation of society that
 links  together the great and the mean1
 the illustrious  and the obscure2 and  
consider with benevolent  satisfaction1 
that no man1 unless his body or mind be 
totally disabled1 has need to suffer the
 mortification  of seeing himself       
useless or burthensome to the           
community3 he that will diligently      
labour1 in whatever  occupation1 will   
deserve the sustenance which  he        
obtains1 and the protection which he    
enjoys2 and  may lie down every night   
with the pleasing  consciousness of     
having contributed something to the     
happiness of life4    ,contempt and     
admiration are equally incident to      
narrow minds3 he whose comprehension can
 take  in the whole subordination of    
mankind1 and whose  perspicacity can    
pierce to the real state of things      
through the thin veils of fortune or of 
fashion1 will  discover meanness in the 
highest stations1 and dignity  in the   

meanest2 and find that no man can become
  venerable but by virtue1 or           
contemptible but  by wickedness4    ,in 
the midst of this universal hurry1 no   
man  ought to be so little influenced by
 example1 or so  void of honest         
emulation1 as to stand a lazy spectator 
of incessant labour2 or please himself  
with the  mean happiness of a drone1    
while the active swarms  are buzzing    
about him3 no man is without some       
quality1 by the due application of which
 he might  deserve well of the world2   
and whoever he be that  has but little  
in his power1 should be in haste to do  
that little1 lest he be confounded with 
him that can  do nothing4    ,by this   
general concurrence of endeavours1 arts 
of every kind have been so long         
cultivated1 that all  the wants of man  
may be immediately supplied2  idleness  
can scarcely form a wish which she may  
not  gratify by the toil of others1 or  
curiosity dream of a  toy1 which the    
shops are not ready to afford her4      

,happiness is enjoyed only in proportion
 as it is  known2 and such is the state 
or folly of man1 that  it is known only 
by experience of its contrary3 we  who  
have long lived amidst the conveniences 
of a  town immensely populous1 have     
scarce an idea of a  place where desire 
cannot be gratified by money4  ,in order
 to have a just sense of this artificial
 plenty1  it is necessary to have passed
 some time in a distant  colony1 or     
those parts of our island which are     
thinly  inhabited3 he that has once     
known how many trades  every man in such
 situations is compelled to  exercise1  
with how much labour the products of    
nature  must be accommodated to human   
use1 how long  the loss or defect of any
 common utensil must be  endured1 or by 
what awkward expedients it must  be     
supplied1 how far men may wander with   
money  in their hands before any can    
sell them what they  wish to buy1 will  
know how to rate at its proper  value   
the plenty and ease of a great city4    

,but that the happiness of man may still
 remain  imperfect1 as wants in this    
place are easily supplied1  new wants   
likewise are easily created2 every man1 
in surveying the shops of ,london1 sees 
numberless  instruments and             
conveniences1 of which1 while he  did   
not know them1 he never felt the need2  
and yet1  when use has made them        
familiar1 wonders how life  could be    
supported without them4  ,thus it comes 
to  pass1 that our desires always       
increase with our  possessions2 the     
knowledge that something remains yet    
unenjoyed1 impairs our enjoyment of the 
good before us4    ,they who have been  
accustomed to the refinements  of       
science1 and multiplications of         
contrivance1  soon lose their confidence
 in the unassisted powers  of nature1   
forget the paucity of our real          
necessities1  and overlook the easy     
methods by which they may  be supplied4 
,it were a speculation worthy of a      
philosophical mind1 to examine how much 

is taken away  from our native          
abilities1 as well as added to them1  by
 artificial expedients4  ,we are so     
accustomed to  give and receive         
assistance1 that each of us singly  can 
do little for himself2 and there is     
scarce any one  among us1 however       
contracted may be his form of  life1 who
 does not enjoy the labour of a thousand
  artists4    ,but a survey of the      
various nations that inhabit  the earth 
will inform us1 that life may be        
supported  with less assistance2 and    
that the dexterity1 which  practice     
enforced by necessity produces1 is able 
to  effect much by very scanty means4   
,the nations of  ,mexico and ,peru      
erected cities and temples with  out the
 use of iron2 and at this day the rude  
,indian  supplies himself with all the  
necessaries of life3 sent  like the rest
 of mankind naked into the world1 as    
soon as his parents have nursed him up  
to strength1  he is to provide by his   
own labour for his own support4  ,his   

first care is to find a sharp flint     
among the  rocks2 with this he          
undertakes to fell the trees of  the    
forest2 he shapes his bow1 heads his    
arrows1  builds his cottage1 and hollows
 his canoe1 and from  that time lives in
 a state of plenty and prosperity2  he  
is sheltered from the storms1 he is     
fortified against  beasts of prey1 he is
 enabled to pursue the fish of  the sea1
 and the deer of the mountains2 and as  
he  does not know1 does not envy the    
happiness of  polished nations1 where   
gold can supply the want of  fortitude  
and skill1 and he whose laborious       
ancestors  have made him rich1 may lie  
stretched upon a couch1  and see all the
 treasures of all the elements poured   
down before him4    ,this picture of a  
savage life if it shows how much        
individuals may perform1 shows likewise 
how much  society is to be desired4     
,though the perseverance  and address of
 the ,indian excite our admiration1     
they nevertheless cannot procure him the

 conveniences  which are enjoyed by the 
vagrant beggar of a  civilized country3 
he hunts like a wild beast to  satisfy  
his hunger2 and when he lies down to    
rest after  a successful chase1 cannot  
pronounce himself secure  against the   
danger of perishing in a few days3 he   
is1  perhaps1 content with his          
condition1 because he  knows not that a 
better is attainable by man2 as he  that
 is born blind does not long for the    
perception  of light1 because he cannot 
conceive the advantages  which light    
would afford him2 but hunger1 wounds1   
and weariness1 are real evils1 though he
 believes  them equally incident to all 
his fellow-creatures2  and when a       
tempest compels him to lie starving in  
his hut1 he cannot justly be concluded  
equally happy  with those whom art has  
exempted from the power  of chance1 and 
who make the foregoing year provide  for
 the following4    ,to receive and to   
communicate assistance1  constitutes the
 happiness of human life3 man may1      

indeed1  preserve his existence in      
solitude1 but can enjoy it  only in     
society2 the greatest understanding of  
an  individual1 doomed to procure food  
and clothing  for himself1 will barely  
supply him with expedients  to keep off 
death from day to day2 but as one of a  
large community performing only his     
share of the  common business1 he gains 
leisure for intellectual  pleasures1 and
 enjoys the happiness of reason and     
reflection4        ,no4 #fi4 ,,tuesday1 
,,july #c1 #agec     ,fereoe libenter   
homines id quod volunt credunt4         
,,caesar4     ,men willingly believe    
what they wish to be true4    ,,tully   
has long ago observed1 that no man1     
however weakened by long life1 is so    
conscious  of his own decrepitude1 as   
not to imagine that he  may yet hold his
 station in the world for another year4 
,of the truth of this remark every day  
furnishes new  confirmation3 there is no
 time of life1 in which men  for the    
most part seem less to expect the stroke

 of  death1 than when every other eye   
sees it impending2  or are more busy in 
providing for another year1  than when  
it is plain to all but themselves1 that 
at  another year they cannot arrive4    
,though every  funeral that passes      
before their eyes evinces the           
deceitfulness of such expectations1     
since every man who is  born to the     
grave thought himself equally certain of
  living at least to the next year2 the 
survivor still  continues to flatter    
himself1 and is never at a loss for     
some reason why his life should be      
protracted1 and  the voracity of death  
continue to be pacified with  some other
 prey4  ,but this is only one of the    
innumerable artifices  practised in the 
universal conspiracy of mankind  against
 themselves3 every age and every        
condition  indulges some darling        
fallacy2 every man amuses  himself with 
projects which he knows to be           
improbable1  and which1 therefore1 he   
resolves to pursue  without daring to   

examine them4  ,whatever any man        
ardently desires1 he very readily       
believes that he shall  some time       
attain3 he whose intemperance has       
overwhelmed him with diseases1 while he 
languishes in  the spring1 expects      
vigour and recovery from the  summer    
sun2 and while he melts away in the     
summer1  transfers his hopes to the     
frosts of winter3 he  that gazes upon   
elegance or pleasure1 which want of     
money hinders him from imitating or     
partaking1  comforts himself that the   
time of distress will soon  be at an    
end1 and that every day brings him      
nearer  to a state of happiness2 though 
he knows it has passed  not only without
 acquisition of advantage1 but perhaps  
without endeavours after it1 in the     
formation  of schemes that cannot be    
executed1 and in the  contemplation of  
prospects which cannot be approached4   
,such is the general dream in which we  
all slumber  out our time3 every man    
thinks the day coming1 in  which he     

shall be gratified with all his wishes1 
in  which he shall leave all those      
competitors behind1  who are now        
rejoicing like himself in the           
expectation  of victory2 the day is     
always coming to the servile  in which  
they shall be powerful1 to the obscure  
in which they shall be eminent1 and to  
the deformed  in which they shall be    
beautiful4    ,if any of my readers has 
looked with so little  attention on the 
world about him1 as to imagine this     
representation exaggerated beyond       
probability1 let  him reflect a little  
upon his own life2 let him  consider    
what were his hopes and prospects ten   
years  ago1 and what additions he then  
expected to be made  by ten years to his
 happiness2 those years are now         
elapsed2 have they made good the promise
 that was  extorted from them8 have they
 advanced his fortune1  enlarged his    
knowledge1 or reformed his conduct1  to 
the degree that was once expected8  ,i  
am  afraid1 every man that recollects   

his hopes must  confess his             
disappointment2 and own that day has    
glided  unprofitably after day1 and that
 he is still at the same  distance from 
the point of happiness4    ,with what   
consolations can those1 who have thus   
miscarried in their chief design1 elude 
the memory  of their ill success8 with  
what amusements can they  pacify their  
discontent1 after the loss of so large a
  portion of life8 they can give        
themselves up again  to the same        
delusions1 they can form new schemes  of
 airy gratifications1 and fix another   
period of  felicity2 they can again     
resolve to trust the promise  which they
 know will be broken1 they can walk in a
  circle with their eyes shut1 and      
persuade themselves  to think that they 
go forward4    ,of every great and      
complicated event1 part  depends upon   
causes out of our power1 and part must  
be effected by vigour and perseverance4 
,with regard  to that which is styled in
 common language the  work of chance1   

men will always find reasons for        
confidence or distrust1 according to    
their different  tempers or             
inclinations2 and he that has been long 
accustomed to please himself with       
possibilities of  fortuitous happiness1 
will not easily or willingly be         
reclaimed from his mistake4  ,but the   
effects of human  industry and skill are
 more easily subjected to  calculation3 
whatever can be completed in a year1 is 
divisible into parts1 of which each may 
be performed  in the compass of a day2  
he1 therefore1 that has  passed the day 
without attention to the task assigned  
him1 may be certain1 that the lapse of  
life  has brought him no nearer to his  
object2 for  whatever idleness may      
expect from time1 its produce  will be  
only in proportion to the diligence with
  which it has been used4  ,he that     
floats lazily down  the stream1 in      
pursuit of something borne along by  the
 same current1 will find himself indeed 
move  forward2 but unless he lays his   

hand to the oar1 and  increases his     
speed by his own labour1 must be always 
at the same distance from that which he 
is  following4    ,there have happened  
in every age some  contingencies of     
unexpected and undeserved success1 by   
which those who are determined to       
believe whatever  favours their         
inclinations1 have been encouraged  to  
delight themselves with future          
advantages2 they  support confidence by 
considerations1 of which the  only      
proper use is to chase away despair3 it 
is equally  absurd to sit down in       
idleness because some have  been        
enriched without labour1 as to leap a   
precipice  because some have fallen and 
escaped with life1 or  to put to sea in 
a storm because some have been  driven  
from a wreck upon the coast to which    
they  are bound4    ,we are all ready to
 confess1 that belief ought to  be      
proportioned to evidence or probability3
 let any  man1 therefore1 compare the   
number of those who  have been thus     

favoured by fortune1 and of those  who  
have failed of their expectations1 and  
he will  easily determine1 with what    
justness he has registered  himself in  
the lucky catalogue4    ,but there is no
 need on these occasions for deep       
inquiries or laborious calculations2    
there is a far  easier method of        
distinguishing the hopes of folly  from 
those of reason1 of finding the         
difference  between prospects that exist
 before the eyes1 and  those that are   
only painted on a fond imagination4     
,tom ,drowsy had accustomed himself to  
compute  the profit of a darling project
 till he had no longer  any doubt of its
 success2 it was at last matured by     
close consideration1 all the measures   
were accurately  adjusted1 and he wanted
 only five hundred pounds  to become    
master of a fortune that might be envied
  by a director of a trading company4   
,tom was  generous and grateful1 and was
 resolved to  recompense this small     
assistance with an ample fortune2  he1  

therefore1 deliberated for a time1 to   
whom  amongst his friends he should     
declare his necessities2  not that he   
suspected a refusal1 but because  he    
could not suddenly determine which of   
them  would make the best use of riches1
 and was1  therefore1 most worthy of his
 favour4  ,at last his choice  was      
settled2 and knowing that in order to   
borrow  he must shew the probability of 
repayment1 he  prepared for a minute and
 copious explanation of his  project4   
,but here the golden dream was at an    
end3  he soon discovered the            
impossibility of imposing  upon others  
the notions by which he had so long     
imposed upon himself2 which way soever  
he turned  his thoughts1 impossibility  
and absurdity arose in  opposition on   
every side2 even credulity and prejudice
  were at last forced to give way1 and  
he grew  ashamed of crediting himself   
what shame would  not suffer him to     
communicate to another4    ,to this test
 let every man bring his imaginations1  

before they have been too long          
predominant in his  mind4  ,whatever is 
true will bear to be related1  whatever 
is rational will endure to be explained2
  but when we delight to brood in secret
 over future  happiness1 and silently to
 employ our meditations  upon schemes of
 which we are conscious that the  bare  
mention would expose us to derision and 
contempt2 we should then remember1 that 
we are  cheating ourselves by voluntary 
delusions2 and  giving up to the unreal 
mockeries of fancy1 those hours  in     
which solid advantages might be attained
 by  sober thought and rational         
assiduity4    ,there is1 indeed1 so     
little certainty in human  affairs1 that
 the most cautious and severe examiner  
may be allowed to indulge some hopes    
which he  cannot prove to be much       
favoured by probability2  since1 after  
his utmost endeavours to ascertain      
events1  he must often leave the issue  
in the hands of chance4  ,and so scanty 
is our present allowance of happiness1  

that in many situations life could      
scarcely be  supported1 if hope were not
 allowed to relieve the  present hour by
 pleasures borrowed from futurity2  and 
reanimate the languor of dejection to   
new  efforts1 by pointing to distant    
regions of felicity1 which  yet no      
resolution or perseverance shall ever   
reach4    ,but these1 like all other    
cordials1 though they may  invigorate in
 a small quantity1 intoxicate in a      
greater2  these pleasures1 like the     
rest1 are lawful only in  certain       
circumstances1 and to certain degrees2  
they may  be useful in a due            
subserviency to nobler purposes1  but   
become dangerous and destructive when   
once  they gain the ascendant in the    
heart3 to soothe the  mind to           
tranquillity by hope1 even when that    
hope  is likely to deceive us1 may be   
sometimes useful2  but to lull our      
faculties in a lethargy is poor and     
despicable4    ,vices and errours are   
differently modified1  according to the 

state of the minds to which they are    
incident2 to indulge hope beyond the    
warrant of  reason1 is the failure alike
 of mean and elevated  understandings2  
but its foundation and its effects are  
totally different3 the man of high      
courage and great  abilities is apt to  
place too much confidence in  himself1  
and to expect1 from a vigorous exertion 
of his  powers1 more than spirit or     
diligence can attain3  between him and  
his wish he sees obstacles indeed1 but  
he expects to overleap or break them2   
his mistaken  ardour hurries him        
forward2 and though1 perhaps1  he misses
 his end1 he nevertheless obtains some  
collateral good1 and performs something 
useful to  mankind1 and honourable to   
himself4    ,the drone of timidity      
presumes likewise to hope1  but without 
ground and without consequence2 the     
bliss with which he solaces his hours he
 always  expects from others1 though    
very often he knows not  from whom3 he  
folds his arms about him1 and sits  in  

expectation of some revolution in the   
state that  shall raise him to          
greatness1 or some golden shower  that  
shall load him with wealth2 he dozes    
away the  day in musing upon the morrow2
 and at the end of  life is roused from 
his dream only to discover that  the    
time of action is past1 and that he can 
now shew  his wisdom only by repentance4
        ,no4 #gd4 ,,saturday1 ,,july    
#ba1 #agec   ,insansientis dum          
sapientiae   ,consultus erro4---- ,,hor4
 ,lib4 i4 ,od4 xxxiv4 #b4     ,i missed 
my end1 and lost my way   ,by           
crack-brain'd wisdom led astray4        
,,to ,,the ,,adventurer1    ,,sir1      
,,it has long been charged by one part  
of mankind  upon the other1 that they   
will not take advice2  that counsel and 
instruction are generally thrown  away2 
and that1 in defiance both of admonition
 and  example1 all claim the right to   
choose their own  measures1 and to      
regulate their own lives4    ,that there
 is something in advice very useful and 

salutary1 seems to be equally confessed 
on all hands3  since even those that    
reject it1 allow for the most  part that
 rejection to be wrong1 but charge the  
fault  upon the unskilful manner in     
which it is given3 they  admit the      
efficacy of the medicine1 but abhor the 
nauseousness of the vehicle4    ,thus   
mankind have gone on from century to    
century3 some have been advising others 
how to act1  and some have been teaching
 the advisers how to  advise2 yet very  
little alteration has been made in  the 
world4  ,as we must all by the law of   
nature enter  life in ignorance1 we must
 all make our way through  it by the    
light of our own experience2 and for any
  security that advice has been yet able
 to afford1  must endeavour after       
success at the hazard of  miscarriage1  
and learn to do right by venturing to do
  wrong4    ,by advice ,i would not be  
understood to mean1  the everlasting and
 invariable principles of moral and     
religious truth1 from which no change of

 external  circumstances can justify any
 deviation2 but such  directions as     
respect merely the prudential part of   
conduct1 and which may be followed or   
neglected  without any violation of     
essential duties4    ,it is1 indeed1 not
 so frequently to make us good  as to   
make us wise1 that our friends employ   
the  officiousness of counsel2 and among
 the rejectors of  advice1 who are      
mentioned by the grave and sententious  
with so much acrimony1 you will not so  
often  find the vicious and abandoned1  
as the pert and the  petulant1 the      
vivacious and the giddy4    ,as the     
great end of female education is to get 
a  husband1 this likewise is the general
 subject of  female advice3 and the     
dreadful denunciation against  those    
volatile girls1 who will not listen     
patiently to  the lectures of wrinkled  
wisdom1 is1 that they will  die         
unmarried1 or throw themselves away upon
 some  worthless fellow1 who will never 
be able to keep  them a coach4    ,i    

being naturally of a ductile and easy   
temper1  without strong desires or quick
 resentments1 was  always a favourite   
amongst the elderly ladies1 because  ,i 
never rebelled against seniority1 nor   
could be  charged with thinking myself  
wise before my time2  but heard every   
opinion with submissive silence1        
professed myself ready to learn from all
 who seemed  inclined to teach me1 paid 
the same grateful acknowledgements  for 
precepts contradictory to each other1   
and if any controversy arose1 was       
careful to side with  her who presided  
in the company4    ,of this compliance  
,i very early found the advantage2  for 
my aunt ,matilda left me a very large   
addition  to my fortune1 for this reason
 chiefly1 as she  herself declared1     
because ,i was not above hearing  good  
counsel1 but would sit from morning till
 night  to be instructed1 while my      
sister ,sukey1 who was a  year younger  
than myself1 and was1 therefore1 in     
greater want of information1 was so much

 conceited  of her own knowledge1 that  
whenever the good lady  in the ardour of
 benevolence reproved or instructed     
her1 she would pout or titter1 interrupt
 her with  questions1 or embarrass her  
with objections4    ,i had no design to 
supplant my sister by this  complaisant 
attention2 nor1 when the consequence of 
my  obsequiousness came to be known1 did
 ,sukey so  much envy as despise me3 ,i 
was1 however1 very well  pleased with my
 success2 and having received1 from  the
 concurrent opinion of all mankind1 a   
notion that  to be rich was to be great 
and happy1 ,i thought ,i had  obtained  
my advantages at an easy rate1 and      
resolved  to continue the same passive  
attention1 since ,i found  myself so    
powerfully recommended by it to kindness
  and esteem4    ,the desire of advising
 has a very extensive  prevalence2 and  
since advice cannot be given but to     
those  that will hear it1 a patient     
listener is necessary to the            
accommodation of all those who desire to

 be confirmed  in the opinion of their  
own wisdom3 a patient  listener1        
however1 is not always to be had2 the   
present  age1 whatever age is present1  
is so vitiated and  disordered that     
young people are readier to talk than   
to attend1 and good counsel is only     
thrown away  upon those who are full of 
their own perfections4    ,i was1       
therefore1 in this scarcity of good     
sense1 a  general favourite2 and seldom 
saw a day in which  some sober matron   
did not invite me to her house1  or take
 me out in her chariot1 for the sake of 
instructing  me how to keep my character
 in this censorious  age1 how to conduct
 myself in the time of courtship1  how  
to stipulate for a settlement1 how to   
manage a  husband of every character1   
regulate my family1 and  educate my     
children4    ,we are all naturally      
credulous in our own favour4  ,having   
been so often caressed and applauded for
  docility1 ,i was willing to believe   
myself really  enlightened by           

instruction1 and completely qualified   
for the  task of life4  ,i did not doubt
 but ,i was entering the  world with a  
mind furnished against all exigencies1  
with expedients to extricate myself from
 every  difficulty1 and sagacity to     
provide against every danger2  ,i was1  
therefore1 in haste to give some        
specimen of  my prudence1 and to show   
that this liberality of  instruction had
 not been idly lavished upon a mind     
incapable of improvement4    ,my        
purpose1 for why should ,i deny it8 was 
like  that of other women1 to obtain a  
husband of rank  and fortune superior to
 my own2 and in this ,i had  the        
concurrence of all those that had       
assumed the  province of directing me4  
,that the woman was  undone who married 
below herself1 was universally  agreed3 
and though some ventured to assert1 that
  the richer man ought invariably to be 
preferred1 and  that money was a        
sufficient compensation for a  defective
 ancestry2 yet the majority declared    

warmly  for a gentleman1 and were of    
opinion that upstarts  should not be    
encouraged4    ,with regard to other    
qualifications ,i had an  irreconcilable
 variety of instructions4  ,i was       
sometimes  told that deformity was no   
defect in a man2 and  that he who was   
not encouraged to intrigue by an        
opinion of his person1 was more likely  
to value the  tenderness of his wife3   
but a grave widow directed  me to choose
 a man who might imagine himself        
agreeable to me1 for that the deformed  
were always  insupportably vigilant1 and
 apt to sink into sullenness1  or burst 
into rage1 if they found their wife's   
eye wandering for a moment to a good    
face or a  handsome shape4    ,they     
were1 however1 all unanimous in warning 
me1 with repeated cautions1 against all 
thoughts of  union with a wit1 as a     
being with whom no happiness  could     
possibly be enjoyed3 men of every other 
kind ,i was taught to govern1 but a wit 
was an  animal for whom no arts of      

taming had been yet  discovered3 the    
woman whom he could once get within  his
 power1 was considered as lost to all   
hope of  dominion or of quiet3 for he   
would detect artifice and  defeat       
allurement2 and if once he discovered   
any  failure of conduct1 would believe  
his own eyes1 in  defiance of tears1    
caresses1 and protestations4    ,in     
pursuance of these sage principles1 ,i  
proceeded  to form my schemes2 and while
 ,i was yet in the  first bloom of      
youth1 was taken out at an assembly  by 
,mr4 ,frisk4  ,i am afraid my cheeks    
glowed1 and  my eyes sparkled2 for ,i   
observed the looks of all  my           
superintendants fixed anxiously upon me2
 and  ,i was next day cautioned against 
him from all hands1  as a man of the    
most dangerous and formidable kind1  who
 had writ verses to one lady1 and then  
forsaken  her only because she could not
 read them1 and had  lampooned another  
for no other fault than defaming  his   
sister4    ,having been hitherto        

accustomed to obey1 ,i  ventured to     
dismiss ,mr4 ,frisk1 who happily did not
  think me worth the labour of a        
lampoon4  ,i was then  addressed by ,mr4
 ,sturdy1 and congratulated by all  my  
friends on the manors of which ,i was   
shortly  to be lady3 but ,sturdy's      
conversation was so gross1  that after  
the third visit ,i could endure him no  
longer2 and incurred1 by dismissing him1
 the censure  of all my friends1 who    
declared that my nicety  was greater    
than my prudence1 and that they feared  
it would be my fate at last to be       
wretched with a wit4    ,by a wit1      
however1 ,i was never afterwards        
attacked1 but lovers of every other     
class1 or pretended  lovers1 ,i have    
often had2 and1 notwithstanding the     
advice constantly given me1 to have no  
regard in  my choice to my own          
inclinations1 ,i could not  forbear to  
discard some for vice1 and some for     
rudeness4  ,i was once loudly censured  
for refusing an old  gentleman who      

offered an enormous jointure1 and  died 
of the phthisic a year after2 and was so
 baited  with incessant importunities1  
that ,i should have  given my hand to   
,drone the stock-jobber1 had not  the   
reduction of interest made him afraid of
 the  expenses of matrimony4    ,some1  
indeed1 ,i was permitted to encourage2  
but  miscarried of the main end1 by     
treating them according  to the rules of
 art which had been prescribed  me4     
,altilis1 an old maid1 infused into me  
so  much haughtiness and reserve1 that  
some of my  lovers withdrew themselves  
from my frown1 and  returned no more2   
others were driven away1 by the  demands
 of settlement which the widow ,trapland
  directed me to make2 and ,i have      
learned1 by many  experiments1 that to  
ask advice is to lose opportunity4    ,i
 am1 ,sir1    ,your humble servant1     
,,perdita4        ,no4 #ha4 ,,tuesday1  
,,august #ad1 #agec     ,nil            
desperandum4 ,,hor4 ,lib4 i4 ,od4 vii4  
#bg4     ,avaunt despair6    ,i ,,have  

sometimes heard it disputed in          
conversation1  whether it be more       
laudable or desirable1  that a man      
should think too highly or too meanly   
of himself3 it is on all hands agreed to
 be best1 that  he should think rightly2
 but since a fallible being  will always
 make some deviations from exact        
rectitude1  it is not wholly useless to 
inquire towards  which side it is safer 
to decline4    ,the prejudices of       
mankind seem to favour him  who errs by 
under-rating his own powers3 he is      
considered  as a modest and harmless    
member of society1  not likely to break 
the peace by competition1 to  endeavour 
after such splendour of reputation as   
may  dim the lustre of others1 or to    
interrupt any in the  enjoyment of      
themselves2 he is no man's rival1 and1  
therefore1 may be every man's friend4   
,the opinion which a man entertains of  
himself  ought to be distinguished1 in  
order to an accurate  discussion of this
 question1 as it relates to persons  or 

to things4  ,to think highly of         
ourselves in  comparison with others1 to
 assume by our own authority  that      
precedence which none is willing to     
grant1 must  be always invidious and    
offensive2 but to rate our  powers high 
in proportion to things1 and imagine    
ourselves equal to great undertakings1  
while we leave  others in possession of 
the same abilities1 cannot  with equal  
justice provoke censure4    ,it must be 
confessed1 that self-love may dispose   
us to decide too hastily in our own     
favour3 but who is  hurt by the mistake8
  ,if we are incited by this vain       
opinion to attempt more than we can     
perform1 ours  is the labour1 and ours  
is the disgrace4    ,but he that dares  
to think well of himself1 will  not     
always prove to be mistaken2 and the    
good  effects of his confidence will    
then appear in great  attempts and great
 performances3 if he should not  fully  
complete his design1 he will at least   
advance  it so far as to leave an easier

 task for him that  succeeds him2 and   
even though he should wholly fail1  he  
will fail with honour4    ,but from the 
opposite errour1 from torpid            
despondency1 can come no advantage2 it  
is the frost of  the soul1 which binds  
up all its powers1 and congeals  life in
 perpetual sterility4  ,he that has no  
hopes of  success1 will make no         
attempts2 and where nothing  is         
attempted1 nothing can be done4         
,every man should1 therefore1 endeavour 
to  maintain in himself a favourable    
opinion of the powers  of the human     
mind2 which are1 perhaps1 in every  man1
 greater than they appear1 and might1 by
 diligent  cultivation1 be exalted to a 
degree beyond  what their possessor     
presumes to believe4  ,there is  scarce 
any man but has found himself able1 at  
the  instigation of necessity1 to do    
what in a state of  leisure and         
deliberation he would have concluded    
impossible2 and some of our species have
 signalized  themselves by such         

achievements1 as prove that  there are  
few things above human hope4    ,it has 
been the policy of all nations to       
preserve1  by some public monuments1 the
 memory of those  who have served their 
country by great exploits3  there is the
 same reason for continuing or reviving 
the names of those1 whose extensive     
abilities have  dignified humanity4  ,an
 honest emulation may be  alike excited2
 and the philosopher's curiosity may  be
 inflamed by a catalogue of the works of
 ,boyle  or ,bacon1 as ,themistocles was
 kept awake by the  trophies of         
,miltiades4    ,among the favourites of 
nature that have from  time to time     
appeared in the world1 enriched with    
various endowments and contrarieties of 
excellence1  none seems to have been    
exalted above the common  rate of       
humanity1 than the man known about two  
centuries ago by the appellation of the 
,admirable  ,crichton2 of whose history1
 whatever we may suppress  as surpassing
 credibility1 yet we shall1 upon        

incontestable authority1 relate enough  
to rank him  among prodigies4           
,virtue1 says ,virgil1 is better        
accepted when  it comes in a pleasing   
form3 the person of ,crichton  was      
eminently beautiful2 but his beauty was 
consistent with such activity and       
strength1 that  in fencing he would     
spring at one bound the  length of      
twenty feet upon his antagonist2 and he 
used the sword in either hand with such 
force and  dexterity1 that scarce any   
one had courage to engage him4          
,having studied at ,st4 ,andrews in     
,scotland1 he  went to ,paris in his    
twenty-first year1 and affixed on  the  
gate of the college of ,navarre a kind  
of challenge  to the learned of that    
university to dispute with him  on a    
certain day3 offering to his opponents1 
whoever  they should be1 the choice of  
ten languages1 and of  all faculties and
 sciences4  ,on the day appointed three 
thousand auditors assembled1 when four  
doctors of  the church and fifty masters

 appeared against him2  and one of his  
antagonists confesses1 that the doctors 
were defeated2 that he gave proofs of   
knowledge  above the reach of man2 and  
that a hundred years  passed without    
food or sleep1 would not be sufficient  
for the attainment of his learning4     
,after a disputation  of nine hours1 he 
was presented by the president  and     
professors with a diamond and a purse of
 gold1  and dismissed with repeated     
acclamations4    ,from ,paris he went   
away to ,rome1 where he made  the same  
challenge1 and had in the presence of   
the  pope and cardinals the same        
success4  ,afterwards he  contracted at 
,venice an acquaintance with ,aldus     
,manutius1 by whom he was introduced to 
the learned  of that city3 then visited 
,padua1 where he engaged  in another    
publick disputation1 beginning his      
performance with an extemporal poem in  
praise of the  city and the assembly    
then present1 and concluding  with an   
oration equally unpremeditated in       

commendation  of ignorance4    ,he      
afterwards published another challenge1 
in  which he declared himself ready to  
detect the errours  of ,aristotle and   
all his commentators1 either  in the    
common forms of logick1 or in any which 
his  antagonists should propose of a    
hundred different  kinds of verse4      
,these acquisitions of learning1 however
  stupendous1 were not gained at the    
expense of any pleasure  which youth    
generally indulges1 or by the omission  
of any accomplishment in which it       
becomes a gentleman  to excel3 he       
practised in great perfection the  arts 
of drawing and painting1 he was an      
eminent  performer in both vocal and    
instrumental musick1 he  danced with    
uncommon gracefulness1 and1 on the day  
after his disputation at ,paris1        
exhibited his skill in  horsemanship    
before the court of ,france1 where at a 
publick match of tilting1 he bore away  
the ring upon  his lance fifteen times  
together4    ,he excelled likewise in   

domestic games of less  dignity and     
reputation3 and in the interval between 
his challenge and disputation at ,paris1
 he spent so  much of his time at cards1
 dice1 and tennis1 that a  lampoon was  
fixed upon the gate of the ,sorbonne1   
directing those that would see this     
monster of  erudition1 to look for him  
at the tavern4    ,so extensive was his 
acquaintance with life and  manners1    
that in an ,italian comedy composed by  
himself1 and exhibited before the court 
of ,mantua1  he is said to have         
personated fifteen different            
characters2 in all which he might       
succeed without great  difficulty1 since
 he had such power of retention1 that   
once hearing an oration of an hour1 he  
would repeat  it exactly1 and in the    
recital follow the speaker  through all 
his variety of tone and gesticulation4  
,nor was his skill in arms less than in 
learning1 or  his courage inferior to   
his skill3 there was a prize-  fighter  
at ,mantua1 who travelling about the    

world1  according to the barbarous      
custom of that age1 as a  general       
challenger1 had defeated the most       
celebrated  masters in many parts of    
,europe2 and in ,mantua1  where he then 
resided1 had killed three that appeared 
against him4  ,the duke repented that he
 had granted  him his protection2 when  
,crichton1 looking on his  sanguinary   
success with indignation1 offered to    
stake  fifteen hundred pistoles1 and    
mount the stage against  him4  ,the duke
 with some reluctance consented1 and  on
 the day fixed the combatants appeared3 
their  weapon seems to have been single 
rapier1 which was  then newly introduced
 in ,italy4  ,the prize-fighter         
advanced with great violence and        
fierceness1 and  ,crichton contended    
himself calmly to ward his  passes1 and 
suffered him to exhaust his vigour by   
his own fury4  ,crichton then became the
 assailant2  and pressed upon him with  
such force and agility1  that he thrust 
him thrice through the body1 and  saw   

him expire3 he then divided the prize he
 had  won among the widows whose        
husbands had been  killed4    ,the death
 of this wonderful man ,i should be     
willing to conceal1 did ,i not know that
 every reader  will inquire curiously   
after that fatal hour1 which is  common 
to all human beings1 however            
distinguished  from each other by nature
 or by fortune4    ,the duke of ,mantua1
 having received so many  proofs of his 
various merit1 made him tutor to his    
son ,vicentio di ,gonzaga1 a prince of  
loose manners  and turbulent            
disposition4  ,on this occasion it was1 
that he composed the comedy in which he 
exhibited  so many different characters 
with exact propriety4  ,but his honour  
was of short continuance2 for  as he was
 one night in the time of ,carnival     
rambling about the streets1 with his    
guitar in his hand1  he was attacked by 
six men masked4  ,neither his  courage  
nor skill in his exigence deserted him3 
he  opposed them with such activity and 

spirit1 that  he soon dispersed them1   
and disarmed their leader1  who throwing
 off his mask1 discovered himself to  be
 the prince his pupil4  ,crichton1      
falling on his knees1  took his own     
sword by the point1 and presented it to 
the prince2 who immediately seized it1  
and instigated1  as some say1 by        
jealousy1 according to others1  only by 
drunken fury and brutal resentment1     
thrust  him through the heart4    ,thus 
was the ,admirable ,crichton brought    
into  that state1 in which he could     
excel the meanest of  mankind only by a 
few empty honours paid to his  memory3  
the court of ,mantua testified their    
esteem  by a publick mourning1 the      
contemporary wits were  profuse of their
 encomiums1 and the palaces of ,italy   
were adorned with pictures1 representing
 him on  horseback with a lance in one  
hand and a book  in the otheri4         
i ,this paper is enumerated by ,chalmers
 among those which  ,johnson dictated1  
not to ,bathurst1 but to ,hawkesworth4  

,it is an  elegant summary of           
,crichton's life which is in            
,mackenzie's  ,writers of the ,scotch   
,nation4  ,see a fuller account by the  
,earl  of ,buchan and ,dr4 ,kippis in   
the ,biog4 ,brit4 and the recently      
published one by ,mr4 ,frazer ,tytler4  
,no4 #hd4 ,,saturday1 ,,august #be1     
#agec     ----------------,tolle        
periclum1   ,jam vaga prosiliet frenis  
natura remotis4    ,,hor4 ,lib4 ii4     
,sat4 vii4 #gc4       ,but take the     
danger and the shame away1   ,and       
vagrant nature bounds upon her prey4    
,,francis4      ,,to ,,the ,,adventurer4
    ,,sir1    ,,it has been observed1 ,i
 think1 by ,sir ,william  ,temple1 and  
after him by almost every other  writer1
 that ,england affords a greater variety
 of  characters than the rest of the    
world4  ,this is  ascribed to the       
liberty prevailing amongst us1 which    
gives every man the privilege of being  
wise or  foolish his own way1 and       
preserves him from the  necessity of    

hypocrisy or the servility of imitation4
  ,that the position itself is true1 ,i 
am not  completely satisfied4  ,to be   
nearly acquainted with the  people of   
different countries can happen to very  
few2  and in life1 as in every thing    
else beheld at a  distance1 there       
appears an even uniformity3 the petty   
discriminations which diversify the     
natural character1  are not discoverable
 but by a close inspection2  we1        
therefore1 find them most at home1      
because there  we have most             
opportunities of remarking them4  ,much 
less am ,i convinced1 that this peculiar
  diversification1 if it be real1 is the
 consequence of  peculiar liberty2 for  
where is the government to be found     
that superintends individuals with so   
much vigilance1  as not to leave their  
private conduct without  restraint8     
,can it enter into a reasonable mind to 
imagine1 that men of every other nation 
are not equally  masters of their own   
time or houses with ourselves1  and     

equally at liberty to be parsimonious or
 profuse1  frolick or sullen1 abstinent 
or luxurious8  ,liberty is  certainly   
necessary to the full play of           
predominant  humours2 but such liberty  
is to be found alike under  the         
government of the many or the few1 in   
monarchies or commonwealths4    ,how    
readily the predominant passion snatches
 an  interval of liberty1 and how fast  
it expands itself  when the weight of   
restraint is taken away1 ,i had  lately 
an opportunity to discover1 as ,i took a
 journey  into the country in a         
stage-coach2 which1 as every  journey is
 a kind of adventure1 may be very       
properly  related to you1 though ,i can 
display no such  extraordinary assembly 
as ,cervantes has collected  at ,don    
,quixote's innj4           j ,johnson   
has made impressive allusion to the     
immortal  work of ,cervantes in his     
,second ,rambler4  ,every reflecting man
  must arise from its perusal with      
feelings of the deepest  melancholy1    

with the most tender commiseration for  
the weakness  and lot of humanity4  ,to 
such a man its moral must ever be       
profoundly sad4  ,vulgar minds cannot   
know it4  ,hence it has  ever been the  
favorite with the intellectual class1   
while ,gil  ,blas has more generally won
 the applause of men of the world4  ,an 
amusing anecdote of the almost universal
 admiration for the chef  d 'oeuvre of  
,le ,sage may be found in ,butler's     
,reminiscences4  ,that bigotted1 yet    
extraordinary man1 ,alva1 predicted1    
with  prophetic precision1 the effects  
which the satire on ,chivalry  would    
produce in ,spain4  ,see ,broad ,stone  
of ,honour1 or ,rules for  the          
,gentlemen of ,england4      ,in a stage
 coach1 the passengers are for the most 
part wholly unknown to one another1 and 
without  expectation of ever meeting    
again when their  journey is at an end2 
one should therefore  imagine1 that it  
was of little importance to any of      
them1 what conjectures the rest should  

form concerning  him4  ,yet so it is1   
that as all think themselves  secure    
from detection1 all assume that         
character of  which they are most       
desirous1 and on no occasion is  the    
general ambition of superiority more    
apparently  indulged4    ,on the day of 
our departure1 in the twilight of  the  
morning1 ,i ascended the vehicle with   
three men  and two women1 my fellow     
travellers4  ,it was easy  to observe   
the affected elevation of mien with     
which  every one entered1 and the       
supercilious servility with  which they 
paid their compliments to each other4   
,when the first ceremony was despatched1
 we sat  silent for a long time1 all    
employed in collecting  importance into 
our faces1 and endeavouring to strike   
reverence and submission into our       
companions4    ,it is always observable 
that silence propagates  itself1 and    
that the longer talk has been suspended1
 the  more difficult it is to find any  
thing to say4  ,we began  now to wish   

for conversation2 but no one seemed     
inclined to descend from his dignity1 or
 first propose  a topick of discourse4  
,at last a corpulent gentleman1  who had
 equipped himself for this expedition   
with  a scarlet surtout and a large hat 
with a broad lace1  drew out his watch1 
looked on it in silence1 and then  held 
it dangling at his finger4  ,this was1  
,i suppose1  understood by all the      
company as an invitation to  ask the    
time of the day1 but nobody appeared to 
heed his overture2 and his desire to be 
talking so far  overcame his resentment1
 that he let us know of his  own accord 
it was past five1 and that in two hours 
we should be at breakfast4    ,his      
condescension was thrown away3 we       
continued  all obdurate2 the ladies held
 up their heads2 ,i  amused myself with 
watching their behaviour2 and  of the   
other two1 one seemed to employ himself 
in  counting the trees as we drove by   
them1 the other  drew his hat over his  
eyes1 and counterfeited a  slumber4     

,the man of benevolence1 to shew that he
 was  not depressed by our neglect1     
hummed a tune1 and  beat time upon his  
snuff-box4    ,thus universally         
displeased with one another1 and  not   
much delighted with ourselves1 we came  
at last  to the little inn appointed for
 our repast2 and all began  at once to  
recompense themselves for the constraint
  of silence1 by innumerable questions  
and  orders to the people that attended 
us4  ,at last1 what  every one had      
called for was got1 or declared         
impossible to be got at that time1 and  
we were persuaded  to sit round the same
 table2 when the gentleman in  the red  
surtout looked again upon his watch1    
told us  that we had half an hour to    
spare1 but he was sorry  to see so      
little merriment among us2 that all     
fellow  travellers were for the time    
upon the level1 and that  it was always 
his way to make himself one of the      
company4  ,i remember1 says he1 it was  
on just  such a morning as this1 that ,i

 and my ,lord ,mumble  and the ,duke of 
,tenterden were out upon a ramble3  we  
called at a little house as it might be 
this2 and  my landlady1 ,i warrant you1 
not suspecting to whom  she was talking1
 was so jocular and facetious1 and  made
 so many merry answers to our questions1
 that  we were all ready to burst with  
laughter4  ,at last the  good woman     
happening to overhear me whisper the    
duke and call him by his title1 was so  
surprised and  confounded1 that we could
 scarcely get a word from  her2 and the 
duke never met me from that day to      
this1 but he talks of the little house1 
and quarrels  with me for terrifying the
 landlady4    ,he had scarcely time to  
congratulate himself on  the veneration 
which this narrative must have  procured
 for him from the company1 when one of  
the  ladies having reached out for a    
plate on a distant part  of the table1  
began to remark1 the inconveniences  of 
travelling1 and the difficulty which    
they who never  sat at home without a   

great number of attendants1  found in   
performing for themselves such offices  
as  the road required2 but that people  
of quality often  travelled in disguise1
 and might be generally known  from the 
vulgar by their condescension to poor   
inn-  keepers1 and the allowance which  
they made for any  defect in their      
entertainment2 that for her part1  while
 people were civil and meant well1 it   
was never  her custom to find fault1 for
 one was not to expect  upon a journey  
all that one enjoyed at one's own       
house4    ,a general emulation seemed   
now to be excited4  ,one of the men who 
had hitherto said nothing1 called  for  
the last newspaper2 and having perused  
it a while  with deep pensiveness1 ,it  
is impossible1 says he1  for any man to 
guess how to act with regard to  the    
stocks2 last week it was the general    
opinion that  they would fall2 and ,i   
sold out twenty thousand  pounds in     
order to a purchase3 they have now risen
  unexpectedly2 and ,i make no doubt but

 at my  return to ,london ,i shall risk 
thirty thousand pounds  among them      
again4    ,a young man1 who had hitherto
 distinguished  himself only by the     
vivacity of his looks1 and a frequent   
diversion of his eyes from one object to
 another1  upon this closed his         
snuff-box1 and told us that he  had a   
hundred times talked with the chancellor
 and  the judges on the subject of the  
stocks2 that for his  part he did not   
pretend to be well acquainted with  the 
principles on which they were           
established1 but  had always heard them 
reckoned pernicious to trade1  uncertain
 in their produce1 and unsolid in their 
foundation2  and that he had been       
advised by three judges1  his most      
intimate friends1 never to venture his  
money  in the funds1 but to put it out  
upon land security1  till he could light
 upon an estate in his own country4     
,it might be expected1 that upon these  
glimpses  of latent dignity1 we should  
all have begun to look  round us with   

veneration2 and have behaved like the   
princes of romance1 when the enchantment
 that  disguises them is dissolved1 and 
they discover the  dignity of each      
other2 yet it happened1 that none of    
these hints made much impression on the 
company2  every one was apparently      
suspected of endeavouring  to impose    
false appearances upon the rest2 all    
continued their haughtiness in hopes to 
enforce their  claims2 and all grew     
every hour more sullen1 because  they   
found their representations of          
themselves without  effect4    ,thus we 
travelled on four days with malevolence 
perpetually increasing1 and without any 
endeavour  but to outvie each other in  
superciliousness and  neglect2 and when 
any two of us could separate  ourselves 
for a moment we vented our indignation  
at  the sauciness of the rest4    ,at   
length the journey was at an end2 and   
time and  chance1 that strip off all    
disguises1 have discovered  that the    
intimate of lords and dukes is a        

nobleman's  butler1 who has furnished a 
shop with the money he  has saved2 the  
man who deals so largely in the funds1  
is the clerk of a broker in             
,change-alley2 the lady who  so         
carefully concealed her quality1 keeps a
 cook-shop  behind the ,exchange2 and   
the young man who is so  happy in the   
friendship of the judges1 engrosses  and
 transcribes for bread in a garret of   
the ,temple4  ,of one of the women only 
,i could make no  disadvantageous       
detection1 because she had assumed no   
character1 but accommodated herself to  
the scene  before her1 without any      
struggle for distinction or             
superiority4    ,i could not forbear to 
reflect on the folly of  practising a   
fraud1 which1 as the event showed1 had  
been  already practised too often to    
succeed1 and by the  success of which no
 advantage could have been  obtained2 of
 assuming a character1 which was to end 
with the day2 and of claiming upon false
 pretences  honours which must perish   

with the breath that paid  them4        
,but1 ,mr4 ,adventurer1 let not those   
who laugh at  me and my companions1     
think this folly confined to  a         
stage-coach4  ,every man in the journey 
of life takes  the same advantage of the
 ignorance of his fellow  travellers1   
disguises himself in counterfeited      
merit1  and hears those praises with    
complacency which his  conscience       
reproaches him for accepting4  ,every   
man  deceives himself while he thinks he
 is deceiving  others2 and forgets that 
the time is at hand when  every illusion
 shall cease1 when fictitious excellence
  shall be torn away1 and ,,all must be 
shown to ,,all in  their real state4    
,i am1 ,sir1 your humble servant1       
,,viator4        ,no4 #he4 ,,tuesday1   
,,august #bh1 #agec     ,qui studet     
optatam cursu contingere metam1   ,multa
 tulit fecitque puer4  ,hon4 ,de ,ar4   
,poet4 #dab4     ,the youth1 who hopes  
th' ,olympic prize to gain1   ,all arts 
must try1 and every toil sustain4       

,,francis4    ,,it is observed by       
,bacon1 that reading makes a  full man1 
conversation a ready man1 and writing   
an exact man4    ,as ,bacon attained to 
degrees of knowledge  scarcely ever     
reached by any other man1 the directions
  which he gives for study have         
certainly a just  claim to our regard2  
for who can teach an art with  so great 
authority1 as he that has practised it  
with  undisputed success8    ,under the 
protection of so great a name1 ,i shall1
  therefore1 venture to inculcate to my 
ingenious  contemporaries1 the necessity
 of reading1 the fitness of  consulting 
other understandings than their own1 and
  of considering the sentiments and     
opinions of those  who1 however         
neglected in the present age1 had in    
their own times1 and many of them a long
 time  afterwards1 such reputation for  
knowledge and acuteness  as will        
scarcely ever be attained by those that 
despise them4    ,an opinion has of late
 been1 ,i know not how1  propagated     

among us1 that libraries are filled only
  with useless lumber2 that men of parts
 stand in need  of no assistance2 and   
that to spend life in poring upon       
books1 is only to imbibe prejudices1 to 
obstruct and  embarrass the powers of   
nature1 to cultivate memory  at the     
expense of judgment1 and to bury reason 
under a chaos of indigested learning4   
,such is the talk of many who think     
themselves  wise1 and of some who are   
thought wise by others2  of whom part   
probably believe their own tenets1 and  
part may be justly suspected of         
endeavouring to  shelter their ignorance
 in multitudes1 and of wishing to       
destroy that reputation which they have 
no hopes  to share4  ,it will1 ,i       
believe1 be found invariably true1  that
 learning was never decried by any      
learned man2  and what credit can be    
given to those who venture  to condemn  
that which they do not know8    ,if     
reason has the power ascribed to it by  
its  advocates1 if so much is to be     

discovered by attention  and meditation1
 it is hard to believe1 that so many    
millions1 equally participating of the  
bounties of  nature with ourselves1 have
 been for ages upon ages  meditating in 
vain3 if the wits of the present time   
expect the regard of posterity1 which   
will then  inherit the reason which is  
now thought superior to  instruction1   
surely they may allow themselves to be  
instructed by the reason of former      
generations4  ,when1 therefore1 an      
author declares1 that he has  been able 
to learn nothing from the writings of   
his  predecessors1 and such a           
declaration has been lately  made1      
nothing but a degree of arrogance       
unpardonable  in the greatest human     
understanding1 can  hinder him from     
perceiving that he is raising           
prejudices against his own performance2 
for with what  hopes of success can he  
attempt that in which  greater abilities
 have hitherto miscarried8 or with  what
 peculiar force does he suppose himself 

invigorated1  that difficulties hitherto
 invincible should give  way before him8
    ,of those whom ,providence has      
qualified to make  any additions to     
human knowledge1 the number is          
extremely small2 and what can be added  
by each  single mind1 even of this      
superior class1 is very  little3 the    
greatest part of mankind must owe all   
their knowledge1 and all must owe far   
the larger  part of it1 to the          
information of others4  ,to understand  
the works of celebrated authors1 to     
comprehend  their systems1 and retain   
their reasonings1 is a  task more than  
equal to common intellects2 and  he is  
by no means to be accounted useless or  
idle1  who has stored his mind with     
acquired knowledge1  and can detail it  
occasionally to others who have  less   
leisure or weaker abilities4    ,persius
 has justly observed1 that knowledge is 
nothing to him who is not known by      
others to  possess itk3 to the scholar  
himself it is nothing  with respect     

either to honor or advantage1 for the   
world cannot reward those qualities     
which are  concealed from it2 with      
respect to others it is nothing1        
because it affords no help to ignorance 
or errour4           k ,scire tuum nihil
 est1 nisi te scire hoc sciat alter4    
,sat4 i4 #bg4      ,it is with justice1 
therefore1 that in an  accomplished     
character1 ,horace unites just          
sentiments  with the power of expressing
 them2 and he that  has once accumulated
 learning1 is next to consider1  how he 
shall most widely diffuse and most      
agreeably  impart it4    ,a ready man is
 made by conversation4  ,he that  buries
 himself among his manuscripts1         
besprent1  as ,pope expresses it1 with  
learned dust1 and  wears out his days   
and nights in perpetual research  and   
solitary meditation1 is too apt to lose 
in his  elocution what he adds to his   
wisdom2 and when  he comes into the     
world1 to appear overloaded with  his   
own notions1 like a man armed with      

weapons  which he cannot wield4  ,he has
 no facility of  inculcating his        
speculations1 of adapting himself to the
  various degrees of intellect which the
 accidents of  conversation will        
present2 but will talk to most          
unintelligibly1 and to all unpleasantly4
    ,i was once present at the lectures 
of a profound  philosopher1 a man really
 skilled in the science  which he       
professed1 who having occasion to       
explain  the terms opacum and           
pellucidum1 told us1 after  some        
hesitation1 that opacum was1 as one     
might  say1 opake1 and that pellucidum  
signified pellucid4  ,such was the      
dexterity with which this learned       
reader facilitated to his auditors the  
intricacies of  science2 and so true is 
it1 that a man may know what  he cannot 
teach4    ,boerhaave complains1 that the
 writers who have  treated of chymistry 
before him1 are useless to the  greater 
part of students1 because they          
presuppose  their readers to have such  

degrees of skill as are not  often to be
 found4  ,into the same errour are all  
men  apt to fall1 who have familiarized 
any subject to  themselves in solitude3 
they discourse1 as if they  thought     
every other man had been employed in the
  same inquiries2 and expect that short 
hints and  obscure allusions will       
produce in others the same train  of    
ideas which they excite in themselves4  
,nor is this the only inconvenience     
which the man  of study suffers from a  
recluse life4  ,when he meets  with an  
opinion that pleases him1 he catches it 
up  with eagerness2 looks only after    
such arguments as  tend to his          
confirmation2 or spares himself the     
trouble of discussion1 and adopts it    
with very little  proof2 indulges it    
long without suspicion1 and in  time    
unites it to the general body of his    
knowledge1  and treasures it up among   
incontestable truths3  but when he comes
 into the world among men who1  arguing 
upon dissimilar principles1 have been   

led to  different conclusions1 and being
 placed in various  situations1 view the
 same object on many sides2 he  finds   
his darling position attacked1 and      
himself in  no condition to defend it3  
having thought always  in one train1 he 
is in the state of a man who having     
fenced always with the same master1 is  
perplexed  and amazed by a new posture  
of his antagonist2 he  is entangled in  
unexpected difficulties1 he is harassed 
by sudden objections1 he is unprovided  
with solutions  or replies2 his surprise
 impedes his natural  powers of         
reasoning1 his thoughts are scattered   
and  confounded1 and he gratifies the   
pride of airy  petulance with an easy   
victory4    ,it is difficult to imagine1
 with what obstinacy  truths which one  
mind perceives almost by intuition1     
will be rejected by another2 and how    
many  artifices must be practised1 to   
procure admission for  the most evident 
propositions into understandings        
frighted by their novelty1 or hardened  

against them  by accidental prejudice2  
it can scarcely be conceived1  how      
frequently1 in these extemporaneous     
controversies1  the dull will be subtle1
 and the acute absurd2  how often       
stupidity will elude the force of       
argument1 by involving itself in its own
 gloom2 and  mistaken ingenuity will    
weave artful fallacies1 which  reason   
can scarcely find means to disentangle4 
,in these encounters the learning of the
 recluse  usually fails him3 nothing but
 long habit and frequent  experiments   
can confer the power of changing  a     
position into various forms1 presenting 
it in  different points of view1        
connecting it with known  and granted   
truths1 fortifying it with intelligible 
arguments1 and illustrating it by apt   
similitudes2  and he1 therefore1 that   
has collected his knowledge  in         
solitude1 must learn its application by 
mixing  with mankind4  ,but while the   
various opportunities of conversation   
invite us to try every mode of argument1

 and  every art of recommending our     
sentiments1 we are  frequently betrayed 
to the use of such as are not in        
themselves strictly defensible3 a man   
heated in talk1  and eager of victory1  
takes advantage of the mistakes  or     
ignorance of his adversary1 lays hold of
  concessions to which he knows he has  
no right1 and  urges proofs likely to   
prevail on his opponent1 though  he     
knows himself that they have no force3  
thus the  severity of reason is relaxed1
 many topicks are  accumulated1 but     
without just arrangement or             
distinction2 we learn to satisfy        
ourselves with such  ratiocination as   
silences others2 and seldom recall to  a
 close examination1 that discourse which
 has gratified  our vanity with victory 
and applause4    ,some caution1         
therefore1 must be used lest            
copiousness and facility be made less   
valuable by inaccuracy  and confusion4  
,to fix the thoughts by writing1 and    
subject them to frequent examinations   

and reviews1  is the best method of     
enabling the mind to detect its  own    
sophisms1 and keep it on guard against  
the  fallacies which it practises on    
others3 in conversation we  naturally   
diffuse our thoughts1 and in writing we 
contract them2 method is the excellence 
of writing1  and unconstraint the grace 
of conversation4    ,to read1 write1 and
 converse in due proportions1  is1      
therefore1 the business of a man of     
letters4  ,for  all these there is not  
often equal opportunity2  excellence1   
therefore1 is not often attainable2 and 
most  men fail in one or other of the   
ends proposed1 and  are full without    
readiness1 or without exactness4  ,some 
deficiency must be forgiven all1 because
 all  are men2 and more must be allowed 
to pass uncensured  in the greater part 
of the world1 because none  can confer  
upon himself abilities1 and few have the
  choice of situations proper for the   
improvement of  those which nature has  
bestowed3 it is1 however1  reasonable to

 have ,,perfection in our eye2 that we  
may  always advance towards it1 though  
we know it never  can be reached4       
,no4 #ib4 ,,saturday1 ,,september #bb1  
#agec     ,cum tabulis animum censoris  
sumet honesti4    ,,hor4 ,lib4 ii4 ,ep4 
ii4 #aaj4       ,bold be the critick1   
zealous to his trust1   ,like the firm  
judge inexorably just4      ,,to ,,the  
,,adventurer4  ,,sir1    ,,in the papers
 of criticism which you have given to   
the publick1 ,i have remarked a spirit  
of candour  and love of truth equally   
remote from bigotry and  captiousness2 a
 just distribution of praise amongst    
the ancients and the moderns3 a sober   
deference to  reputation long           
established1 without a blind adoration  
of antiquity2 and a willingness to      
favour later  performances1 without a   
light or puerile fondness  for novelty4 
,i shall1 therefore1 venture to lay     
before you1 such  observations as have  
risen to my mind in the  consideration  
of ,virgil's pastorals1 without any     

inquiry  how far my sentiments deviate  
from established rules  or common       
opinions4    ,if we survey the ten      
pastorals in a general view1  it will be
 found that ,virgil can derive from them
  very little claim to the praise of an 
inventor4  ,to  search into the         
antiquity of this kind of poetry is  not
 my present purpose2 that it has long   
subsisted in  the east1 the ,sacred     
,writings sufficiently inform us2  and  
we may conjecture1 with great           
probability1 that  it was sometimes the 
devotion1 and sometimes the             
entertainment of the first generations  
of mankind4  ,theocritus united elegance
 with simplicity2 and  taught his       
shepherds to sing with so much ease and 
harmony1 that his countrymen1 despairing
 to excel1  forbore to imitate him2 and 
the ,greeks1 however  vain or ambitious1
 left him in quiet possession of the    
garlands which the wood-nymphs had      
bestowed  upon him4    ,virgil1 however1
 taking advantage of another  language1 

ventured to copy or to rival the        
,sicilian bard3  he has written with    
greater splendour of diction1 and       
elevation of sentiment3 but as the      
magnificence of  his performances was   
more1 the simplicity was less2  and1    
perhaps1 where he excels ,theocritus1 he
 sometimes  obtains his superiority by  
deviating from the  pastoral character1 
and performing what ,theocritus  never  
attempted4    ,yet1 though ,i would     
willingly pay to ,theocritus  the honour
 which is always due to an original     
author1  ,i am far from intending to    
depreciate ,virgil3 of  whom ,horace    
justly declares1 that the rural muses   
have appropriated to him their elegance 
and sweetness1  and who1 as he copied   
,theocritus in his design1  has         
resembled him likewise in his success2  
for1  if we except ,calphurnius1 an     
obscure author of the  lower ages1 ,i   
know not that a single pastoral was     
written after him by any poet1 till the 
revival of  literature4    ,but though  

his general merit has been universally  
acknowledged1 ,i am far from thinking   
all the  productions of his rural       
,thalia equally excellent2 there  is1   
indeed1 in all his pastorals a strain of
 versification  which it is vain to seek
 in any other poet2 but if we  except   
the first and the tenth1 they seem      
liable either  wholly or in part to     
considerable objections4    ,the second1
 though we should forget the great      
charge against it1 which ,i am afraid   
can never be  refuted1 might1 ,i think1 
have perished1 without any  diminution  
of the praise of its author2 for ,i know
  not that it contains one affecting    
sentiment or pleasing  description1 or  
one passage that strikes the            
imagination or awakens the passions4    
,the third contains a contest between   
two  shepherds1 begun with a quarrel of 
which some particulars  might well be   
spared1 carried on with sprightliness   
and elegance1 and terminated at last in 
a reconciliation3  but1 surely1 whether 

the invectives with which  they attack  
each other be true or false1 they are   
too  much degraded from the dignity of  
pastoral innocence2  and instead of     
rejoicing that they are both            
victorious1 ,i should not have grieved  
could they  have been both defeated4    
,the poem to ,pollio is1 indeed1 of     
another kind3  it is filled with images 
at once splendid and pleasing1  and is  
elevated with grandeur of language      
worthy of the first of ,roman poets2 but
 ,i am not  able to reconcile myself to 
the disproportion between  the          
performance and the occasion that       
produced it3  that the golden age should
 return because ,pollio  had a son1     
appears so wild a fiction1 that ,i am   
ready  to suspect the poet of having    
written1 for some  other purpose1 what  
he took this opportunity of  producing  
to the publick4    ,the fifth contains a
 celebration of ,daphnis1 which  has    
stood to all succeeding ages as the     
model of  pastoral elegies4  ,to deny   

praise to a performance  which so many  
thousands have laboured to imitate1     
would be to judge with too little       
deference for the  opinion of mankind3  
yet whoever shall read it with          
impartiality1 will find that most of the
 images are of  the mythological kind1  
and therefore easily invented2  and that
 there are few sentiments of rational   
praise  or natural lamentation4    ,in  
the ,silenus he again rises to the      
dignity of  philosophick sentiments1 and
 heroick poetry4  ,the  address to      
,varus is eminently beautiful3 but since
  the compliment paid to ,gallus fixes  
the transaction  to his own time1 the   
fiction of ,silenus seems  injudicious3 
nor has any sufficient reason yet been  
found1  to justify his choice of those  
fables that make the  subject of the    
song4    ,the seventh exhibits another  
contest of the tuneful  shepherds3 and1 
surely1 it is not without some  reproach
 to his inventive power1 that of ten    
pastorals ,virgil has written two upon  

the same plan4  ,one of the shepherds   
now gains an acknowledged  victory1 but 
without any apparent superiority1 and   
the reader1 when he sees the prize      
adjudged1 is not  able to discover how  
it was deserved4    ,of the eighth      
pastoral1 so little is properly the     
work of ,virgil1 that he has no claim to
 other praise  or blame than that of a  
translator4    ,of the ninth1 it is     
scarce possible to discover the  design 
or tendency2 it is said1 ,i know not    
upon  what authority1 to have been      
composed from fragments  of other poems2
 and except a few lines in  which the   
author touches upon his own misfortunes1
  there is nothing that seems           
appropriated to any time  or place1 or  
of which any other use can be discovered
  than to fill up the poem4    ,the     
first and the tenth pastorals1 whatever 
be  determined of the rest1 are         
sufficient to place their  author above 
the reach of rivalry4  ,the complaint   
of ,gallus disappointed in his love1 is 

full of such  sentiments as disappointed
 love naturally produces2 his  wishes   
are wild1 his resentment is tender1 and 
his  purposes are inconstant4  ,in the  
genuine language  of despair1 he soothes
 himself awhile with the pity  that     
shall be paid him after his death4      
--------,tamen cantabitis1 arcades1     
inquit1   ,montibus hoec vestris3 soli  
cantare periti   ,arcades4  ,o mihi tum 
quam molliter ossa quiescant1   ,vestra 
meos olim si fistula dicat amores6      
,virg4 ,ec4 x4 #ca4     --------,yet1 ,o
 ,arcadian swains1   ,ye best artificers
 of soothing strains6   ,tune your soft 
reeds1 and teach your rocks my woes1    
,so shall my shade in sweeter rest      
repose4   ,o that your birth and        
business had been mine2   ,to feed the  
flock1 and prune the spreading vine6    
,,warton4      ,discontented with his   
present condition1 and  desirous to be  
any thing but what he is1 he wishes     
himself one of the shepherds4  ,he then 
catches the  idea of rural tranquillity2

 but soon discovers how  much happier he
 should be in these happy regions1  with
 ,lycoris at his side3     ,hic gelidi  
fontes1 hic mollia prata1 ,lycori3      
,hic nemus1 hic ipso tecum consumerer   
oevo4   ,nunc insanus amor duri me      
,martis in armis   ,tela inter media    
atque adversos detinet hostes4   ,tu    
procul a patria 7nec sit mihi credere7  
tantum   ,alpinas1 ah dura1 nives1 et   
frigora ,rheni   ,me sine sola vides4   
,ah te ne frigora laedant6   ,ah tibi ne
 teneras glacies secet aspera plantas6  
,ec4 x4 #db4     ,here cooling fountains
 roll through flow'ry meads1   ,here    
woods1 ,lycoris1 lift their verdant     
heads2   ,here could ,i wear my careless
 life away1   ,and in thy arms          
insensibly decay4   ,instead of that1 me
 frantick love detains1   ',mid foes1   
and dreadful darts1 and bloody plains3  
,while you--and can my soul the tale    
believe1   ,far from your country1      
lonely wand'ring leave   ,me1 me your   
lover1 barbarous fugitive6   ,seek the  

rough ,alps where snows eternal shine1  
,and joyless borders of the frozen      
,rhine4   ,ah6 may no cold e'er blast my
 dearest maid1   ,nor pointed ice thy   
tender feet invade4  ,,warton4      ,he 
then turns his thoughts on every side1  
in quest  of something that may solace  
or amuse him3 he proposes  happiness to 
himself1 first in one scene and  then in
 another3 and at last finds that nothing
 will  satisfy3       ,jam neque        
,hamodryades rursum1 nec carmina nobis  
,ipsa placent3 ipsoe rursum concedite   
sylvae4   ,non illum nostri possunt     
mutare labores2   ,nec si frigoribus    
mediis ,hebrumque bibamus1              
,sithoniasque nives hyemis subeamus     
aquosae3   ,nec si1 cum moriens alta    
liber aret in ulmo   ,a,ethiopum        
versemus oves sub sidere ,cancri4       
,omnia vincit amor2 et nos cedamus      
amori4  ,ec4 x4 #fb4     ,but now again 
no more the woodland maids1   ,nor      
pastoral songs delight--,farewell1 ye   
shades--   ,no toils of ours the cruel  

god can change1   ,tho' lost in frozen  
deserts we should range2   ,tho' we     
should drink where chilling ,hebrus     
flows1   ,endure bleak winter blasts1   
and ,thracian snows3   ,or on hot       
,india's plains our flocks should feed1 
,where the parch'd elm declines his     
sickening head1   ,beneath              
fierce-glowing ,cancer's fiery beams1   
,far from cool breezes and refreshing   
streams4   ,love over all maintains     
resistless sway1   ,and let us love's   
all-conquering power obey4  ,,warton4   
,but notwithstanding the excellence of  
the tenth  pastoral1 ,i cannot forbear  
to give the preference to  the first1   
which is equally natural and more       
diversified4  ,the complaint of the     
shepherd1 who saw his old  companion at 
ease in the shade1 while himself was    
driving his little flock he knew not    
whither1 is such  as1 with variation of 
circumstances1 misery always  utters at 
the sight of prosperity3     ,nos       
patriae fines1 et dulcia linquimus arva2

   ,nos patriam fugimus3  ,tu1 ,tityre1 
lentus in umbra   ,formosam resonare    
doces ,amaryllida sylvas4  ,ec4 i4 #c4  
,we leave our country's bounds1 our     
much-lov'd plains2   ,we from our       
country fly1 unhappy swains6   ,you1    
,tit'rus1 in the groves at leisure laid1
   ,teach ,amaryllis' name to every     
shade4  ,,warton4      ,his account of  
the difficulties of his journey1 gives  
a very tender image of pastoral         
distress3     ------------,en ipse      
capellas   ,protenus aeger ago3 hanc    
etiam vix1 ,tityre1 duco3   ,hic inter  
densas corylos modo namque gemellos1    
,spem gregis1 ah6 silice in nuda connixa
 reliquit4  ,ec4 i4 #ab4     ,and lo6   
sad partner of the general care4        
,weary and faint ,i drive my goats afar6
   ,while scarcely this my leading hand 
sustains1   ,tired with the way1 and    
recent from her pains2   ,for 'mid yon  
tangled hazels as we past1   ,on the    
bare flints her hapless twin she cast1  
,the hopes and promise of my ruin'd     

fold6  ,,warton4      ,the description  
of ,virgil's happiness in his little    
farm1 combines almost all the images of 
rural pleasure2  and he1 therefore1 that
 can read it with indifference1  has no 
sense of pastoral poetry3               
,fortunate senex6 ergo tua rura         
manebunt1   ,et tibi magna satis2       
quamvis lapis omnia nudus1   ,limosoque 
palus obducat pascua junco3   ,non      
insueta graves tentabunt pabula foetas1 
,nec mala vicini pecoris contagia       
loedent4   ,fortunate senex6 hic inter  
flumina nota1   ,et fontes sacros1      
frigus captabis opacum4   ,hinc tibi1   
quae semper vicino ab limite sepes1     
,hyblaeis apibus florem depasta salicti1
   ,saepe levi somnum suadebit inire    
susurro4   ,hinc alta sub rupe canet    
frondator ad auras4   ,nec tamen interea
 raucae1 tua cura1 palumbes1   ,nec     
gemere aeria cessabit turtur ab ulmo4   
,ec4 i4 #dg4     ,happy old man6 then   
still thy farms restored1   ,enough for 
thee1 shall bless thy frugal board4     

,what tho' rough stones the naked soil  
o'erspread1   ,or marshy bulrush rear   
its wat'ry head1   ,no foreign food thy 
teeming ewes shall fear1   ,no touch    
contagious spread its influence here4   
,happy old man6 here 'mid th' accustom'd
 streams   ,and sacred springs1 you'll  
shun the scorching beams2   ,while from 
yon willow-fence1 thy picture's bound1  
,the bees that suck their flow'ry stores
 around1   ,shall sweetly mingle with   
the whispering boughs   ,their lulling  
murmurs1 and invite repose3   ,while    
from steep rocks the pruner's song is   
heard2   ,nor the soft-cooing dove1 thy 
fav'rite bird1   ,meanwhile shall cease 
to breathe her melting strain1   ,nor   
turtles from th' aerial elm to 'plain4  
,,warton4      ,it may be observed1 that
 these two poems were  produced by      
events that really happened2 and may1   
therefore1 be of use to prove1 that we  
can always feel  more than we can       
imagine1 and that the most artful       
fiction must give way to truth4    ,i   

am1 ,sir1 ,your humble servant1         
,,dubius4        ,no4 #ie4 ,,tuesday1   
,,october #b1 #agec     ----,dulcique   
animos novitate tenebo4  ,,ovid4 ,met4  
iv4 #bhd4     ,and with sweet novelty   
your soul detain4    ,,it is often      
charged upon writers1 that with all     
their  pretensions to genius and        
discoveries1 they do little  more than  
copy one another2 and that compositions 
obtruded upon the world with the pomp of
 novelty1  contain only tedious         
repetitions of common sentiments1  or at
 best exhibit a transposition of known  
images1 and give a new appearance of    
truth only by  some slight difference of
 dress and decoration4    ,the          
allegation of resemblance between       
authors is  indisputably true2 but the  
charge of plagiarism1  which is raised  
upon it1 is not to be allowed with      
equal readiness4  ,a coincidence of     
sentiment may  easily happen without any
 communication1 since  there are many   
occasions in which all reasonable men   

will nearly think alike4  ,writers of   
all ages have had  the same sentiments1 
because they have in all ages  had the  
same objects of speculation2 the        
interests and  passions1 the virtues and
 vices of mankind1 have been            
diversified in different times1 only by 
unessential and  casual varieties3 and  
we must1 therefore1 expect in  the works
 of all those who attempt to describe   
them1  such a likeness as we find in the
 pictures of the same  person drawn in  
different periods of his life4    ,it is
 necessary1 therefore1 that before an   
author be  charged with plagiarism1 one 
of the most reproachful1  though1       
perhaps1 not the most atrocious of      
literary  crimes1 the subject on which  
he treats should  be carefully          
considered4  ,we do not wonder1 that    
historians1 relating the same facts1    
agree in their  narration2 or that      
authors1 delivering the elements of     
science1 advance the same theorems1 and 
lay down  the same definitions3 yet it  

is not wholly without  use to mankind1  
that books are multiplied1 and that     
different authors lay out their labours 
on the same  subject2 for there will    
always be some reason why  one should on
 particular occasions1 or to particular 
persons1 be preferable to another2 some 
will be clear  where others are obscure1
 some will please by their  style and   
others by their method1 some by their   
embellishments and others by their      
simplicity1 some by  closeness and      
others by diffusion4    ,the same       
indulgence is to be shown to the writers
  of morality3 right and wrong are      
immutable2 and  those1 therefore1 who   
teach us to distinguish them1 if  they  
all teach us right1 must agree with one 
another4  ,the relations of social life1
 and the duties resulting  from them1   
must be the same at all times and in all
  nations3 some petty differences may   
be1 indeed1  produced1 by forms of      
government or arbitrary customs2  but   
the general doctrine can receive no     

alteration4    ,yet it is not to be     
desired1 that morality should be        
considered as interdicted to all future 
writers3 men  will always be tempted to 
deviate from their duty1  and will1     
therefore1 always want a monitor to     
recall  them2 and a new book often      
seizes the attention of  the publick1   
without any other claim than that it is 
new4  ,there is likewise in composition1
 as in other  things1 a perpetual       
vicissitude of fashion2 and truth  is   
recommended at one time to regard1 by   
appearances which at another would      
expose it to neglect2  the author1      
therefore1 who has judgment to discern  
the taste of his contemporaries1 and    
skill to gratify  it1 will have always  
an opportunity to deserve well  of      
mankind1 by conveying instruction to    
them in a  grateful vehicle4    ,there  
are likewise many modes of composition1 
by which a moralist may deserve the name
 of an  original writer3 he may         
familiarize his system by  dialogues    

after the manner of the ancients1 or    
subtilize  it into a series of          
syllogistick arguments3 he may  enforce 
his doctrine by seriousness and         
solemnity1  or enliven it by            
sprightliness and gaiety3 he may        
deliver his sentiments in naked         
precepts1 or illustrate  them by        
historical examples3 he may detain the  
studious by the artful concatenation of 
a continued  discourse1 or relieve the  
busy by short strictures1 and           
unconnected essays4    ,to excel in any 
of these forms of writing will  require 
a particular cultivation of the genius3 
whoever  can attain to excellence1 will 
be certain to engage  a set of readers1 
whom no other method would have  equally
 allured2 and he that communicates truth
  with success1 must be numbered among  
the first  benefactors to mankind4      
,the same observation may be extended   
likewise  to the passions3 their        
influence is uniform1 and their  effects
 nearly the same in every human breast3 

a man  loves and hates1 desires and     
avoids1 exactly like his  neighbour2    
resentment and ambition1 avarice and    
indolence1 discover themselves by the   
same symptoms  in minds distant a       
thousand years from one another4        
,nothing1 therefore1 can be more unjust1
 than to  charge an author with         
plagiarism1 merely because he  assigns  
to every cause its natural effect2 and  
makes  his personages act1 as others in 
like circumstances  have always done4   
,there are conceptions in which  all men
 will agree1 though each derives them   
from  his own observation3 whoever has  
been in love1 will  represent a lover   
impatient of every idea that  interrupts
 his meditations on his mistress1       
retiring to  shades and solitude1 that  
he may muse without  disturbance on his 
approaching happiness1 or associating   
himself with some friend that flatters  
his passion1  and talking away the hours
 of absence upon his darling  subject4  
,whoever has been so unhappy as to have 

felt the miseries of long-continued     
hatred1 will1  without any assistance   
from ancient volumes1 be able to  relate
 how the passions are kept in perpetual 
agitation1  by the recollection of      
injury and meditations of  revenge2 how 
the blood boils at the name of the      
enemy1  and life is worn away in        
contrivances of mischief4  ,every other 
passion is alike simple and limited1  if
 it be considered only with regard to   
the breast  which it inhabits2 the      
anatomy of the mind1 as that  of the    
body1 must perpetually exhibit the same 
appearances2 and though by the continued
 industry  of successive inquirers1 new 
movements will be from  time to time    
discovered1 they can affect only the    
minuter parts1 and are commonly of more 
curiosity  than importance4    ,it will 
now be natural to inquire1 by what arts 
are  the writers of the present and     
future ages to attract  the notice and  
favour of mankind4  ,they are to        
observe the alterations which time is   

always making  in the modes of life1    
that they may gratify every  generation 
with a picture of themselves4  ,thus    
love  is uniform1 but courtship is      
perpetually varying3 the  different arts
 of gallantry1 which beauty has         
inspired1  would of themselves be       
sufficient to fill a volume2  sometimes 
balls and serenades1 sometimes          
tournaments  and adventures1 have been  
employed to melt  the hearts of ladies1 
who in another century have  been       
sensible of scarce any other merit than 
that of  riches1 and listened only to   
jointures and pin-money4  ,thus the     
ambitious man has at all times been     
eager  of wealth and power2 but these   
hopes have been  gratified in some      
countries by supplicating the people1   
and in others by flattering the prince3 
honour  in some states has been only the
 reward of military  achievements1 in   
others it has been gained by noisy      
turbulence and popular clamours4        
,avarice has worn  a different form1 as 

she actuated the usurer of ,rome1  and  
the stock-jobber of ,england2 and       
idleness itself1  how little soever     
inclined to the trouble of invention1   
has been forced from time to time to    
change its  amusements1 and contrive    
different methods of wearing  out the   
day4    ,here then is the fund1 from    
which those who study  mankind may fill 
their compositions with an              
inexhaustible variety of images and     
allusions3 and he  must be confessed to 
look with little attention upon  scenes 
thus perpetually changing1 who cannot   
catch  some of the figures before they  
are made vulgar by  reiterated          
descriptions4    ,it has been discovered
 by ,sir ,isaac ,newton1 that  the      
distinct and primogenial colours are    
only seven2  but every eye can witness1 
that from various mixtures1  in various 
proportions1 infinite diversifications  
of tints may be produced4  ,in like     
manner1 the  passions of the mind1 which
 put the world in motion1  and produce  

all the bustle and eagerness of the busy
  crowds that swarm upon the earth2 the 
passions1 from  whence arise all the    
pleasures and pains that we see  and    
hear of1 if we analyze the mind of man1 
are very  few2 but those few agitated   
and combined1 as external  causes shall 
happen to operate1 and modified by      
prevailing opinions and accidental      
caprices1 make  such frequent           
alterations on the surface of life1 that
  the show1 while we are busied in      
delineating it1  vanishes from the view1
 and a new set of objects succeed1      
doomed to the same shortness of duration
 with the  former3 thus curiosity may   
always find employment1  and the busy   
part of mankind will furnish the        
contemplative with the materials of     
speculation to the  end of time4    ,the
 complaint1 therefore1 that all topicks 
are  preoccupied1 is nothing more than  
the murmur of  ignorance or idleness1 by
 which some discourage others1  and some
 themselves2 the mutability of mankind  

will always furnish writers with new    
images1 and the  luxuriance of fancy may
 always embellish them with  new        
decorations4        ,no4 #ii4 ,,tuesday1
 ,,october #af1 #agec     ----,magnis   
tamen excidit ausis4  ,,ovid4 ,met4     
,lib4 ii4 #cbh4     ,but in the glorious
 enterprise he died4  ,,addison4    ,,it
 has always been the practice of        
mankind1 to  judge of actions by the    
event4  ,the same attempts1  conducted  
in the same manner1 but terminated by   
different success1 produce different    
judgments3 they  who attain their       
wishes1 never want celebrators of  their
 wisdom and their virtue2 and they that 
miscarry1 are quickly discovered to have
 been defective  not only in mental but 
in moral qualities4  ,the world  will   
never be long without some good reason  
to hate  the unhappy2 their real faults 
are immediately  detected2 and if those 
are not sufficient to sink them  into   
infamy1 an additional weight of calumny 
will be  superadded3 he that fails in   

his endeavours after  wealth or power1  
will not long retain either honesty  or 
courage4    ,this species of injustice  
has so long prevailed in  universal     
practice1 that it seems likewise to have
  infected speculation3 so few minds are
 able to separate  the ideas of         
greatness and prosperity1 that even ,sir
  ,william ,temple has determined1 that 
he who can  deserve the name of a hero1 
must not only be virtuous  but          
fortunate4    ,by this unreasonable     
distribution of praise and  blame1 none 
have suffered oftener than projectors1  
whose rapidity of imagination and       
vastness of design  raise such envy in  
their fellow mortals1 that every  eye   
watches for their fall1 and every heart 
exults at  their distresses3 yet even a 
projector may gain favour  by success2  
and the tongue that was prepared to     
hiss1 then endeavours to excel others in
 loudness of  applause4    ,when        
,coriolanus1 in ,shakespeare1 deserted  
to  ,aufidius1 the ,volscian servants at

 first insulted him1  even while he     
stood under the protection of the       
household gods3 but when they saw that  
the project  took effect1 and the       
stranger was seated at the head  of the 
table1 one of them very judiciously     
observes1  that he always thought there 
was more in him  than he could think4   
,machiavel has justly animadverted on   
the  different notice taken by all      
succeeding times1 of the two  great     
projectors1 ,cataline and ,caesar4      
,both formed  the same project1 and     
intended to raise themselves  to power1 
by subverting the commonwealth3 they    
pursued their design1 perhaps1 with     
equal abilities1  and with equal virtue2
 but ,cataline perished in the  field1  
and ,caesar returned from ,pharsalia    
with  unlimited authority3 and from that
 time1 every  monarch of the earth has  
thought himself honoured by  a          
comparison with ,caesar2 and ,cataline  
has been  never mentioned1 but that his 
name might be  applied to traitors and  

incendiaries4    ,in an age more remote1
 ,xerxes projected the  conquest of     
,greece1 and brought down the power  of 
,asia against it3 but after the world   
had been  filled with expectation and   
terrour1 his army was  beaten1 his fleet
 was destroyed1 and ,xerxes has been    
never mentioned without contempt4    ,a 
few years afterwards1 ,greece likewise  
had her  turn of giving birth to a      
projector2 who invading  ,asia with a   
small army1 went forward in search of   
adventures1 and by his escape from one  
danger1  gained only more rashness to   
rush into another3 he  stormed city     
after city1 over-ran kingdom after      
kingdom1 fought battles only for barren 
victory1  and invaded nations only that 
he might make his  way through them to  
new invasions3 but having  been         
fortunate in the execution of his       
projects1 he  died with the name of     
,alexander the ,great4    ,these are1   
indeed1 events of ancient times2 but    
human nature is always the same1 and    

every age  will afford us instances of  
publick censures influenced  by events4 
,the great business of the middle       
centuries1 was the holy war2 which      
undoubtedly  was a noble project1 and   
was for a long time  prosecuted with a  
spirit equal to that with which it had  
been contrived2 but the ardour of the   
,european  heroes only hurried them to  
destruction2 for a long  time they could
 not gain the territories for which     
they fought1 and1 when at last gained1  
they could  not keep them3 their        
expeditions1 therefore1 have  been the  
scoff of idleness and ignorance1 their  
understanding and their virtue have been
 equally  vilified1 their conduct has   
been ridiculed1 and their cause  has    
been defamed4    ,when ,columbus had    
engaged king ,ferdinand in  the         
discovery of the other hemisphere1 the  
sailors1  with whom he embarked in the  
expedition1 had so  little confidence in
 their commander1 that after having     
been long at sea looking for coasts     

which they  expected never to find1 they
 raised a general mutiny1  and demanded 
to return4  ,he found means to sooth    
them into a permission to continue the  
same course  three days longer1 and on  
the evening of the third  day descried  
land4  ,had the impatience of his crew  
denied him a few hours of the time      
requested1 what  had been his fate but  
to have come back with the  infamy of a 
vain projector1 who had betrayed the    
king's credulity to useless expenses1   
and risked his  life in seeking         
countries that had no existence8 how    
would those that had rejected his       
proposals have  triumphed in their      
acuteness6 and when would his  name have
 been mentioned1 but with the makers of 
potable gold and malleable glass8       
,the last royal projectors with whom the
 world  has been troubled1 were ,charles
 of ,sweden and the  ,czar of ,muscovy4 
,charles1 if any judgment may be  formed
 of his designs by his measures and his 
inquiries1 had purposed first to        

dethrone the ,czar1  then to lead his   
army through pathless deserts into      
,china1 thence to make his way by the   
sword through  the whole circuit of     
,asia1 and by the conquest of  ,turkey  
to unite ,sweden with his new dominions3
  but this mighty project was crushed at
 ,pultowa2  and ,charles has since been 
considered as a madman  by those powers1
 who sent their ambassadors to  solicit 
his friendship1 and their generals to   
learn  under him the art of war4    ,the
 ,czar found employment sufficient in   
his own  dominions1 and amused himself  
in digging canals1  and building cities3
 murdering his subjects with            
insufferable fatigues1 and transplanting
 nations from  one corner of his        
dominions to another1 without           
regretting the thousands that perished  
on the  way3 but he attained his end1 he
 made his people  formidable1 and is    
numbered by fame among the  demigods4   
,i am far from intending to vindicate   
the sanguinary  projects of heroes and  

conquerors1 and would  wish rather to   
diminish the reputation of their        
success1 than the infamy of their       
miscarriages3 for ,i  cannot conceive1  
why he that has burned cities1 wasted   
nations1 and filled the world with      
horrour and  desolation1 should be more 
kindly regarded by mankind1  than he    
that died in the rudiments of           
wickedness2  why he that accomplished   
mischief should be glorious1  and he    
that only endeavoured it should be      
criminal4  ,i would wish ,caesar and    
,catiline1 ,xerxes and  ,alexander1     
,charles and ,peter1 huddled together in
  obscurity or detestation4    ,but     
there is another species of projectors1 
to whom  ,i would willingly conciliate  
mankind2 whose ends  are generally      
laudable1 and whose labours are         
innocent2 who are searching out new     
powers of nature1  or contriving new    
works of art2 but who are yet           
persecuted with incessant obloquy1 and  
whom the  universal contempt with which 

they are treated1  often debars from    
that success which their industry  would
 obtain1 if it were permitted to act    
without  opposition4    ,they who find  
themselves inclined to censure  new     
undertakings1 only because they are new1
 should  consider1 that the folly of    
projection is very seldom  the folly of 
a fool2 it is commonly the ebullition   
of a capacious mind1 crowded with       
variety of  knowledge1 and heated with  
intenseness of thought2  it proceeds    
often from the consciousness of uncommon
  powers1 from the confidence of those1 
who having  already done much1 are      
easily persuaded that they  can do more4
  ,when ,rowley had completed the       
orrery1  he attempted the perpetual     
motion2 when ,boyle  had exhausted the  
secrets of vulgar chymistry1 he  turned 
his thoughts to the work of             
transmutationl4           l ,sir        
,richard ,steele was infatuated with    
notions of  ,alchemy1 and wasted money  
in its visionary projects4  ,he had a   

laboratory at ,poplar4   ,addisoniana1  
vol4 i4 p4 #aj4    ,the readers of      
,washington ,irving's ,brace-,bridge    
,hall will  recollect a pleasing and    
popular exposition of the alternately   
splendid and benevolent1 and always     
passionate reveries of the  ,alchemist1 
in the affecting story of the ,student  
of ,salamanca4    ,a projector generally
 unites those qualities which  have the 
fairest claim to veneration1 extent of  
knowledge and greatness of design3 it   
was said of ,catiline1  immoderata1     
incredibilia1 nimis alta semper         
cupiebat4  ,projectors of all kinds     
agree in their intellects1  though they 
differ in their morals2 they all fail by
  attempting things beyond their power1 
by despising  vulgar attainments1 and   
aspiring to performances to  which1     
perhaps1 nature has not proportioned the
  force of man3 when they fail1         
therefore1 they fail not  by idleness or
 timidity1 but by rash adventure and    
fruitless diligence4    ,that the       

attempts of such men will often         
miscarry1 we may reasonably expect2 yet 
from such  men1 and such only1 are we to
 hope for the cultivation  of those     
parts of nature which lie yet waste1 and
  the invention of those arts which are 
yet wanting  to the felicity of life4   
,if they are1 therefore1  universally   
discouraged1 art and discovery can make 
no  advances4  ,whatever is attempted   
without previous  certainty of success1 
may be considered as a project1  and    
amongst narrow minds may1 therefore1    
expose  its author to censure and       
contempt2 and if the liberty  of        
laughing be once indulged1 every man    
will laugh  at what he does not         
understand1 every project will be       
considered as madness1 and every great  
or new  design will be censured as a    
project4  ,men unaccustomed  to reason  
and researches1 think every enterprise  
impracticable1 which is extended beyond 
common effects1 or comprises many       
intermediate  operations4  ,many that   

presume to laugh at  projectors1 would  
consider a flight through the air in a  
winged chariot1 and the movement of a   
mighty  engine by the steam of water as 
equally the dreams of  mechanick lunacy2
 and would hear1 with equal  negligence1
 of the union of the ,thames and ,severn
 by  a canal1 and the scheme of         
,albuquerque1 the  viceroy of the       
,indies1 who in the rage of hostility   
had  contrived to make ,egypt a barren  
desert1 by turning  the ,nile into the  
,red ,sea4    ,those who have attempted 
much1 have seldom  failed to perform    
more than those who never deviate  from 
the common roads of action3 many        
valuable  preparations of chymistry are 
supposed to have risen  from            
unsuccessful inquiries after the grand  
elixir3 it  is1 therefore1 just to      
encourage those who endeavour  to       
enlarge the power of art1 since they    
often succeed  beyond expectation2 and  
when they fail1 may sometimes  benefit  
the world even by their miscarriages4   

,no4 #ajb4 ,,saturday1 ,,october #bg1   
#agec     ----,quid tam dextro pede     
concipis1 ut te   ,conatus non poeniteat
 votique peracti8  ,,juv4 ,sat4 x4 #e4  
,what in the conduct of our life appears
   ,so well design'd1 so luckily begun1 
,but when we have our wish1 we wish     
undone4  ,,dryden4      ,,to ,,the      
,,adventurer4    ,,sir1    ,i ,,have    
been for many years a trader in ,london4
  ,my beginning was narrow1 and my stock
 small2  ,i was1 therefore1 a long time 
brow-beaten and  despised by those1 who1
 having more money1 thought  they had   
more merit than myself4  ,i did not1    
however1 suffer my resentment to        
instigate me to any  mean arts of       
supplantation1 nor my eagerness of      
riches to betray me to any indirect     
methods of gain2  ,i pursued my business
 with incessant assiduity1  supported by
 the hope of being one day richer than  
those who contemned me2 and had1 upon   
every  annual review of my books1 the   
satisfaction of  finding my fortune     

increased beyond my expectation4    ,in 
a few years my industry and probity were
 fully  recompensed1 my wealth was      
really great1 and my  reputation for    
wealth still greater4  ,i had large     
warehouses crowded with goods1 and      
considerable sums  in the publick funds2
 ,i was caressed upon the  ,exchange by 
the most eminent merchants2 became  the 
oracle of the common council2 was       
solicited to  engage in all commercial  
undertakings2 was flattered  with the   
hopes of becoming in a short time one of
  the directors of a wealthy company1   
and1 to  complete my mercantile honours1
 enjoyed the expensive  happiness of    
fining for sheriff4    ,riches1 you     
know1 easily produce riches2 when ,i    
had arrived to this degree of wealth1 ,i
 had no longer  any obstruction or      
opposition to fear2 new acquisitions    
were hourly brought within my reach1 and
 ,i  continued for some years longer to 
heap thousands  upon thousands4    ,at  
last ,i resolved to complete the circle 

of a  citizen's prosperity by the       
purchase of an estate in  the country1  
and to close my life in retirement4     
,from the hour that this design entered 
my  imagination1 ,i found the fatigues  
of my employment  every day more        
oppressive1 and persuaded myself  that  
,i was no longer equal to perpetual     
attention1  and that my health would    
soon be destroyed by  the torment and   
distraction of extensive business4  ,i  
could imagine to myself no happiness1   
but in  vacant jollity1 and             
uninterrupted leisure3 nor  entertain my
 friends with any other topick than the 
vexation and uncertainty of trade1 and  
the happiness  of rural privacy4        
,but1 notwithstanding these             
declarations1 ,i could  not at once     
reconcile myself to the thoughts of     
ceasing to get money2 and though ,i was 
every day  inquiring for a purchase1 ,i 
found some reason for  rejecting all    
that were offered me2 and1 indeed1 had  
accumulated so many beauties and        

conveniences in  my idea of the spot    
where ,i was finally to be  happy1 that1
 perhaps1 the world might have been     
travelled over without discovery of a   
place which  would not have been        
defective in some particular4    ,thus  
,i went on1 still talking of retirement1
 and  still refusing to retire2 my      
friends began to laugh at  my delays1   
and ,i grew ashamed to trifle longer    
with  my own inclinations2 an estate was
 at length  purchased1 ,i transferred my
 stock to a prudent young  man who had  
married my daughter1 went down into  the
 country1 and commenced lord of a       
spacious  manor4    ,here for some time 
,i found happiness equal to my          
expectation4  ,i reformed the old house 
according to  the advice of the best    
architects1 ,i threw down the  walls of 
the garden1 and enclosed it with        
palisades1  planted long avenues of     
trees1 filled a green-house  with       
exotick plants1 dug a new canal1 and    
threw the  earth into the old moat4     

,the fame of these expensive            
improvements brought  in all the country
 to see the show4  ,i entertained my    
visitors with great liberality1 led them
 round my  gardens1 showed them my      
apartments1 laid before  them plans for 
new decorations1 and was gratified by   
the wonder of some and the envy of      
others4    ,i was envied3 but how little
 can one man judge  of the condition of 
another6  ,the time was now  coming1 in 
which affluence and splendour could no  
longer  make me pleased with myself4  ,i
 had built till the  imagination of the 
architect was exhausted2 ,i had  added  
one convenience to another1 till ,i knew
 not  what more to wish or to design2 ,i
 had laid out my  gardens1 planted my   
park1 and completed my water-  works2   
and what now remained to be done8 what1 
but to look up to turrets1 of which when
 they were  once raised ,i had no       
further use1 to range over  apartments  
where time was tarnishing the furniture1
 to  stand by the cascade of which ,i   

scarcely now  perceived the sound1 and  
to watch the growth of woods  that must 
give their shade to a distant           
generation4    ,in this gloomy          
inactivity1 is every day begun and      
ended3 the happiness that ,i have been  
so long  procuring is now at an end1    
because it has been procured2  ,i wander
 from room to room1 till ,i am weary of 
myself2 ,i ride out to a neighbouring   
hill in the centre  of my estate1 from  
whence all my lands lie in  prospect    
round me2 ,i see nothing that ,i have   
not seen  before1 and return home       
disappointed1 though ,i knew  that ,i   
had nothing to expect4    ,in my happy  
days of business ,i had been  accustomed
 to rise early in the morning2 and      
remember  the time when ,i grieved that 
the night came so soon  upon me1 and    
obliged me for a few hours to shut out  
affluence and prosperity4  ,i now seldom
 see the rising  sun1 but to tell him1  
with the fallen angel1 how  ,i hate his 
beamsm4  ,i awake from sleep as to      

languor  or imprisonment1 and have no   
employment for the  first hour but to   
consider by what art ,i shall rid       
myself of the second4  ,i protract the  
breakfast as long as  ,i can1 because   
when it is ended ,i have no call for  my
 attention1 till ,i can with some degree
 of decency  grow impatient for my      
dinner4  ,if ,i could dine all my  life1
 ,i should be happy2 ,i eat not because 
,i am hungry1  but because ,i am idle3  
but1 alas6 the time quickly  comes when 
,i can eat no longer2 and so ill does my
  constitution second my inclination1   
that ,i cannot bear  strong liquors3    
seven hours must then be endured  before
 ,i shall sup2 but supper comes at last1
 the more  welcome as it is in a short  
time succeeded by sleep4           m    
,johnson was too apt to destroy the     
,,keeping of character  in his          
correspondences4  ,a retired trader     
might desire a little  more slumber1 a  
little folding of the hands to sleep2   
but the  lofty malignity of a fallen    

spirit sickening at the beams of day1   
would not be among the feelings of an   
ordinary mind4  ,some good  remarks on  
this point may be seen in ,miss         
,talbot's ,letters to  ,mrs4 ,carter4   
,such1 ,mr4 ,adventurer1 is the         
happiness1 the hope  of which seduced me
 from the duties and pleasures  of a    
mercantile life4  ,i shall be told by   
those who read  my narrative1 that there
 are many means of innocent  amusement1 
and many schemes of useful employment1  
which ,i do not appear ever to have     
known2  and that nature and art have    
provided pleasures1 by  which1 without  
the drudgery of settled business1 the   
active may be engaged1 the solitary     
soothed1 and  the social entertained4   
,these arts1 ,sir1 ,i have tried4  ,when
 first ,i took  possession of my estate1
 in conformity to the taste  of my      
neighbours1 ,i bought guns and nets1    
filled my  kennel with dogs1 and my     
stable with horses3 but  a little       
experience showed me1 that these        

instruments  of rural felicity would    
afford me few gratifications4  ,i never 
shot but to miss the mark1 and1 to      
confess the truth1 was afraid of the    
fire of my own  gun4  ,i could discover 
no musick in the cry of the  dogs1 nor  
could divest myself of pity for the     
animal  whose peaceful and inoffensive  
life was sacrificed to  our sport4  ,i  
was not1 indeed1 always at leisure to   
reflect upon her danger2 for my horse1  
who had been  bred to the chase1 did not
 always regard my choice  either of     
speed or way1 but leaped hedges and     
ditches at his own discretion1 and      
hurried me along  with the dogs1 to the 
great diversion of my brother           
sportsmen4  ,his eagerness of pursuit   
once incited  him to swim a river2 and  
,i had leisure to resolve in  the water1
 that ,i would never hazard my life     
again  for the destruction of a hare4   
,i then ordered books to be procured1   
and by the  direction of the vicar had  
in a few weeks a closet  elegantly      

furnished4  ,you will1 perhaps1 be      
surprised  when ,i shall tell you1 that 
when once ,i had ranged  them according 
to their sizes1 and piled them up in    
regular gradations1 ,i had received all 
the pleasure  which they could give me4 
,i am not able to excite  in myself any 
curiosity after events which have been  
long passed1 and in which ,i can1       
therefore1 have no  interest2 ,i am     
utterly unconcerned to know whether     
,tully or ,demosthenes excelled in      
oratory1 whether  ,hannibal lost ,italy 
by his own negligence or the  corruption
 of his countrymen4  ,i have no skill in
  controversial learning1 nor can       
conceive why so  many volumes should    
have been written upon questions1  which
 ,i have lived so long and so happily   
without understanding4  ,i once resolved
 to go  through the volumes relating to 
the office of justice  of the peace1 but
 found them so crabbed and intricate1   
that in less than a month ,i desisted in
 despair1  and resolved to supply my    

deficiencies by paying a  competent     
salary to a skilful clerk4    ,i am     
naturally inclined to hospitality1 and  
for  some time kept up a constant       
intercourse of visits  with the         
neighbouring gentlemen2 but though they 
are easily brought about me by better   
wine than  they can find at any other   
house1 ,i am not much  relieved by their
 conversation2 they have no skill in    
commerce or the stocks1 and ,i have no  
knowledge  of the history of families or
 the factions of the  country2 so that  
when the first civilities are over1     
they usually talk to one another1 and ,i
 am left alone  in the midst of the     
company4  ,though ,i cannot  drink      
myself1 ,i am obliged to encourage the  
circulation of the glass2 their mirth   
grows more  turbulent and obstreperous2 
and before their merriment  is at end1  
,i am sick with disgust1 and1 perhaps1  
reproached with my sobriety1 or by some 
sly  insinuations insulted as a cit4    
,such1 ,mr4 ,adventurer1 is the life to 

which ,i am  condemned by a foolish     
endeavour to be happy by  imitation2    
such is the happiness to which ,i       
pleased  myself with approaching1 and   
which ,i considered  as the chief end of
 my cares and my labours4  ,i  toiled   
year after year with cheerfulness1 in   
expectation of the happy hour in which  
,i might be idle3  the privilege of     
idleness is attained1 but has not       
brought with it the blessing of         
tranquillity4    ,i am yours1 c4        
,,mercator4        ,no4 #ajg4 ,,tuesday1
 ,,november #ac1 #agec     ----,sub     
judice lis est4  ,,hor4 ,de ,ar4 ,poet4 
#gh4     ,and of their vain disputings  
find no end4  ,,francis4    ,,it has    
been sometimes asked by those who find  
the appearance of wisdom more easily    
attained by  questions than solutions1  
how it comes to pass1 that  the world is
 divided by such difference of opinion8 
and why men1 equally reasonable1 and    
equally lovers  of truth1 do not always 
think in the same manner8    ,with      

regard to simple propositions1 where the
  terms are understood1 and the whole   
subject is  comprehended at once1 there 
is such an uniformity of  sentiment     
among all human beings1 that1 for many  
ages1 a very numerous set of notions    
were supposed  to be innate1 or         
necessarily co-existent with the        
faculty of reason3 it being imagined1   
that universal  agreement could proceed 
only from the invariable  dictates of   
the universal parent4    ,in questions  
diffuse and compounded1 this  similarity
 of determination is no longer to be    
expected4  ,at our first sally into the 
intellectual world1 we all  march       
together along one straight and open    
road2  but as we proceed further1 and   
wider prospects open  to our view1 every
 eye fixes upon a different scene2  we  
divide into various paths1 and1 as we   
move forward1  are still at a greater   
distance from each other4  ,as a        
question becomes more complicated and   
involved1 and extends to a greater      

number of relations1  disagreement of   
opinion will always be multiplied2  not 
because we are irrational1 but because  
we are  finite beings1 furnished with   
different kinds of knowledge1  exerting 
different degrees of attention1 one     
discovering consequences which escape   
another1 none  taking in the whole      
concatenation of causes and  effects1   
and most comprehending but a very small 
part1  each comparing what he observes  
with a different  criterion1 and each   
referring it to a different purpose4    
,where1 then1 is the wonder1 that they  
who see  only a small part should judge 
erroneously of the  whole8 or that they1
 who see different and dissimilar       
parts1 should judge differently from    
each other8    ,whatever has various    
respects1 must have various  appearances
 of good and evil1 beauty or deformity2 
thus1 the gardener tears up as a weed1  
the plant which  the physician gathers  
as a medicine2 and a general1  says ,sir
 ,kenelm ,digby1 will look with pleasure

  over a plain1 as a fit place on which 
the fate of  empires might be decided in
 battle1 which the farmer  will despise 
as bleak and barren1 neither fruitful of
  pasturage1 nor fit for tillagen4      
n ,livy has described the ,achaean      
leader1 ,philopaemen1 as  actually so   
exercising his thoughts whilst he       
wandered among the  rocky passes of the 
,morea1 xxxv4  #bh4  ,in the graphic    
page of the  ,roman historian1 as in the
 stanzas of the ,ariosto of the ,north3 
,from shingles grey the lances start1   
,the bracken bush sends forth the dart1 
,the rushes and the willow wand         
,are bristling into axe and brand4      
,lady of the ,lake4  ,canto v4 #i4      
,two men examining the same question    
proceed  commonly like the physician and
 gardener in selecting  herbs1 or the   
farmer and hero looking on the plain2   
they bring minds impressed with         
different notions1  and direct their    
inquiries to different ends2 they  form1
 therefore1 contrary conclusions1 and   

each  wonders at the other's absurdity4 
,we have less reason to be surprised or 
offended  when we find others differ    
from us in opinion1 because  we very    
often differ from ourselves4  ,how often
 we  alter our minds1 we do not always  
remark2 because  the change is sometimes
 made imperceptibly and  gradually1 and 
the last conviction effaces all memory  
of the former3 yet every man1 accustomed
 from time  to time to take a survey of 
his own notions1 will by  a slight      
retrospection be able to discover1 that 
his  mind has suffered many revolutions 
that the same  things have in the       
several parts of his life been          
condemned and approved1 pursued and     
shunned3 and  that on many occasions1   
even when his practice has  been steady1
 his mind has been wavering1 and he  has
 persisted in a scheme of action1 rather
 because  he feared the censure of      
inconstancy1 than because  he was always
 pleased with his own choice4    ,of the
 different faces shown by the same      

objects1  as they are viewed on opposite
 sides1 and of the  different           
inclinations which they must constantly 
raise  in him that contemplates them1 a 
more striking example  cannot easily be 
found than two ,greek epigrammatists    
will afford us in their accounts of     
human life1 which ,i shall lay before   
the reader in  ,english prose4          
,posidippus1 a comick poet1 utters this 
complaint3  ,through which of the paths 
of life is it eligible to  pass8  ,in   
public assemblies are debates and       
troublesome  affairs3 domestick         
privacies are haunted with  anxieties2  
in the country is labour2 on the sea is 
terrour3 in a foreign land1 he that has 
money must  live in fear1 he that wants 
it must pine in distress3  are you      
married8 you are troubled with          
suspicions2  are you single8 you        
languish in solitude2 children  occasion
 toil1 and a childless life is a state  
of  destitution3 the time of youth is a 
time of folly1 and  gray hairs are      

loaded with infirmity4  ,this choice    
only1 therefore1 can be made1 either    
never to receive  being1 or immediately 
to lose ito4           o ,count o'er the
 joys thine hours have seen1            
,count o'er thy days from anguish free1 
,and know1 whatever thou hast been1     
',tis something better not to be4       
,lord ,byron's ,euthanasia4             
,compare also the plaintive chorus in   
the ,o,edipus at ,colonos1 #abaa4       
,among the tragedies of ,sophocles this 
stands forth a mass of feeling4  ,see   
,schlegel's remarks upon it in his      
,dramatic ,literature4      ,such and so
 gloomy is the prospect1 which          
,posidippus has laid before us4  ,but we
 are not to  acquiesce too hastily in   
his determination against the  value of 
existence3 for ,metrodorus1 a           
philosopher of  ,athens1 has shown1 that
 life has pleasures as well  as pains2  
and having exhibited the present state  
of  man in brighter colours1 draws with 
equal appearance  of reason1 a contrary 

conclusion4    ,you may pass well       
through any of the paths of  life4  ,in 
publick assemblies are honours and      
transactions of wisdom2 in domestick    
privacy is stillness  and quiet3 in the 
country are the beauties of nature2  on 
the sea is the hope of gain3 in a       
foreign land1 he  that is rich is       
honoured1 he that is poor may keep  his 
poverty secret3 are you married8 you    
have a  cheerful house2 are you single8 
you are unincumbered2  children are     
objects of affection1 to be without     
children is to be without care3 the time
 of  youth is the time of vigour1 and   
gray hairs are made  venerable by piety4
  ,it will1 therefore1 never be a wise  
man's choice1 either not to obtain      
existence1 or to  lose it2 for every    
state of life has its felicity4    ,in  
these epigrams are included most of the 
questions which have engaged the        
speculations of the  inquirers after    
happiness1 and though they will not     
much assist our determinations1 they    

may1 perhaps1  equally promote our      
quiet1 by showing that no  absolute     
determination ever can be formed4       
,whether a publick station or private   
life be  desirable1 has always been     
debated4  ,we see here both  the        
allurements and discouragements of civil
  employments2 on one side there is     
trouble1 on the  other honour2 the      
management of affairs is  vexatious and 
difficult1 but it is the only duty in   
which  wisdom can be conspicuously      
displayed3 it must  then still be left  
to every man to choose either ease  or  
glory2 nor can any general precept be   
given1 since  no man can be happy by the
 prescription of another4    ,thus1 what
 is said of children by ,posidippus1    
that they are occasions of fatigue1 and 
by  ,metrodorus1 that they are objects  
of affection1 is  equally certain2 but  
whether they will give most  pain or    
pleasure1 must depend on their future   
conduct and dispositions1 on many causes
 over which  the parent can have little 

influence3 there is1  therefore1 room   
for all the caprices of imagination1 and
  desire must be proportioned to the    
hope or fear that  shall happen to      
predominate4    ,such is the uncertainty
 in which we are always  likely to      
remain with regard to questions wherein 
we have most interest1 and which every  
day affords  us fresh opportunity to    
examine3 we may examine1  indeed1 but we
 never can decide1 because our faculties
  are unequal to the subject2 we see a  
little1 and  form an opinion2 we see    
more1 and change it4  ,this inconstancy 
and unsteadiness1 to which we  must so  
often find ourselves liable1 ought      
certainly  to teach us moderation and   
forbearance towards  those who cannot   
accommodate themselves to our           
sentiments3 if they are deceived1 we    
have no right  to attribute their       
mistake to obstinacy or negligence1     
because we likewise have been mistaken2 
we  may1 perhaps1 again change our own  
opinion3 and  what excuse shall we be   

able to find for aversion and  malignity
 conceived against him1 whom we shall   
then  find to have committed no fault1  
and who offended  us only by refusing to
 follow us into errour8    ,it may      
likewise contribute to soften that      
resentment which pride naturally raises 
against  opposition1 if we consider1    
that he who differs from us1  does not  
always contradict us2 he has one view of
  an object1 and we have another2 each  
describes  what he sees with equal      
fidelity1 and each regulates  his steps 
by his own eyes3 one man with           
,posidippus1  looks on celibacy as a    
state of gloomy  solitude1 without a    
partner in joy1 or a comforter in       
sorrow2 the other considers it1 with    
,metrodorus1 as  a state free from      
incumbrances1 in which a man is  at     
liberty to choose his own               
gratifications1 to  remove from place to
 place in quest of pleasure1 and  to    
think of nothing but merriment and      
diversion3  full of these notions one   

hastens to choose a wife1  and the other
 laughs at his rashness1 or pities his  
ignorance2 yet it is possible that each 
is right1 but  that each is right only  
for himself4    ,life is not the object 
of science3 we see a little1  very      
little2 and what is beyond we only can  
conjecture4  ,if we inquire of those who
 have gone  before us1 we receive small 
satisfaction2 some have  travelled life 
without observation1 and some  willingly
 mislead us4  ,the only thought1        
therefore1 on  which we can repose with 
comfort1 is that which  presents to us  
the care of ,providence1 whose eye      
takes in the whole of things1 and under 
whose  direction all involuntary errours
 will terminate in  happiness4          
,no4 #ajh4 ,,saturday1 ,,november #ag1  
#agec     ,nobis1 quum semel occidit    
brevis lux1   ,nox est perpetua una     
dormienda4    ,,catullus1 ,lib4 v4 ,el4 
v4       ,when once the short-liv'd     
mortal dies1   ,a night eternal seals   
his eyes4  ,,addison4  ,,it may have    

been observed by every reader1 that     
there are certain topicks which never   
are  exhausted4  ,of some images and    
sentiments the mind  of man may be said 
to be enamoured2 it meets  them1 however
 often they occur1 with the same  ardour
 which a lover feels at the sight of his
  mistress1 and parts from them with the
 same regret  when they can no longer be
 enjoyed4    ,of this kind are many     
descriptions which the  poets have      
transcribed from each other1 and their  
successors will probably copy to the end
 of time2  which will continue to       
engage1 or1 as the ,french  term it1 to 
flatter the imagination1 as long as     
human nature shall remain the same4     
,when a poet mentions the spring1 we    
know that  the zephyrs are about to     
whisper1 that the groves  are to recover
 their verdure1 the linnets to warble   
forth their notes of love1 and the      
flocks and herds  to frisk over vales   
painted with flowers3 yet1 who is  there
 so insensible of the beauties of       

nature1 so  little delighted with the   
renovation of the world1  as not to feel
 his heart bound at the mention of  the 
spring8    ,when night overshadows a    
romantick scene1 all  is stillness1     
silence1 and quiet2 the poets of the    
grove  cease their melody1 the moon     
towers over the world  in gentle        
majesty1 men forget their labours and   
their  cares1 and every passion and     
pursuit is for a while  suspended4  ,all
 this we know already1 yet we hear  it  
repeated without weariness2 because such
 is  generally the life of man1 that he 
is pleased to think on  the time when he
 shall pause from a sense of his        
condition4    ,when a poetical grove    
invites us to its covert1  we know that 
we shall find what we have already      
seen1 a limpid brook murmuring over     
pebbles1 a bank  diversified with       
flowers1 a green arch that excludes  the
 sun1 and a natural grot shaded with    
myrtles2  yet who can forbear to enter  
the pleasing gloom to  enjoy coolness   

and privacy1 and gratify himself once   
more by scenes with which nature has    
formed him  to be delighted8    ,many   
moral sentiments likewise are so adapted
 to  our state1 that they find          
approbation whenever  they solicit it1  
and are seldom read without  exciting a 
gentle emotion in the mind3 such is the 
comparison of the life of man with the  
duration of  a flower1 a thought which  
perhaps every nation has  heard warbled 
in its own language1 from the inspired  
poets of the ,hebrews to our own times2 
yet this  comparison must always please1
 because every heart  feels its         
justness1 and every hour confirms it by 
example4    ,such1 likewise1 is the     
precept that directs us to  use the     
present hour1 and refer nothing to a    
distant  time1 which we are uncertain   
whether we shall  reach3 this every     
moralist may venture to inculcate1      
because it will always be approved1 and 
because  it is always forgotten4        
,this rule is1 indeed1 every day        

enforced1 by  arguments more powerful   
than the dissertations of  moralists3 we
 see men pleasing themselves with future
  happiness1 fixing a certain hour for  
the completion  of their wishes1 and    
perishing1 some at a greater and  some  
at a less distance from the happy time2 
all  compplaining of their              
disappointments1 and lamenting  that    
they had suffered the years which heaven
  allowed them1 to pass without         
improvement1 and  deferred the principal
 purpose of their lives to the  time    
when life itself was to forsake them4   
,it is not only uncertain1 whether1     
through all the  casualties and dangers 
which beset the life of man1  we shall  
be able to reach the time appointed for 
happiness or wisdom2 but it is likely1  
that whatever  now hinders us from doing
 that which our reason  and conscience  
declare necessary to be done1 will      
equally obstruct us in times to come4   
,it is easy for  the imagination1       
operating on things not yet existing1   

to please itself with scenes of         
unmingled felicity1  or plan out courses
 of uniform virtue2 but good  and evil  
are in real life inseparably united2    
habits  grow stronger by indulgence2 and
 reason loses her  dignity1 in          
proportion as she has oftener yielded to
  temptation3 he that cannot live well  
to-day1  says ,martial1 will be less    
qualified to live well  to-morrow4      
,of the uncertainty of every human good1
 every  human being seems to be         
convinced2 yet this  uncertainty is     
voluntarily increased by unnecessary    
delay1 whether we respect external      
causes1 or consider  the nature of our  
own minds4  ,he that now feels a  desire
 to do right1 and wishes to regulate his
 life  according to his reason1 is not  
sure that1 at any future  time          
assignable1 he shall be able to rekindle
 the same  ardour2 he that has now an   
opportunity offered him  of breaking    
loose from vice and folly1 cannot know1 
but that he shall hereafter be more     

entangled1 and  struggle for freedom    
without obtaining it4    ,we are so     
unwilling to believe anything to our    
own disadvantage1 that we will always   
imagine the  perspicacity of our        
judgment and the strength of  our       
resolution more likely to increase than 
to grow  less by time2 and1 therefore1  
conclude1 that the will  to pursue      
laudable purposes1 will be always       
seconded  by the power4    ,but1 however
 we may be deceived in calculating  the 
strength of our faculties1 we cannot    
doubt the  uncertainty of that life in  
which they must be  employed3 we see    
every day the unexpected death of  our  
friends and our enemies1 we see new     
graves  hourly opened for men older and 
younger than  ourselves1 for the        
cautious and the careless1 the          
dissolute and the temperate1 for men who
 like us were  providing to enjoy or    
improve hours now irreversibly  cut off3
 we see all this1 and yet1 instead of   
living1 let year glide after year in    

preparations to  live4    ,men are so   
frequently cut off in the midst of their
  projections1 that sudden death causes 
little emotion  in them that behold it1 
unless it be impressed upon  the        
attention by uncommon circumstances4    
,i1 like  every other man1 have outlived
 multitudes1 have  seen ambition sink in
 its triumphs1 and beauty perish  in its
 bloom2 but have been seldom so much    
affected  as by the fate of ,euryalus1  
whom ,i lately lost as ,i  began to love
 him4    ,euryalus had for some time    
flourished in a lucrative  profession2  
but having suffered his imagination  to 
be fired by an unextinguishable         
curiosity1 he grew  weary of the same   
dull round of life1 resolved to  harass 
himself no longer with the drudgery of  
getting  money1 but to quit his business
 and his profit1  and enjoy for a few   
years the pleasures of travel4  ,his    
friends heard him proclaim his          
resolution without  suspecting that he  
intended to pursue it2 but he  was      

constant to his purpose1 and with great 
expedition  closed his accounts and sold
 his moveables1  passed a few days in   
bidding farewell to his  companions1 and
 with all the eagerness of romantick    
chivalry crossed the sea in search of   
happiness4  ,whatever place was renowned
 in ancient or modern  history1 whatever
 region art or nature had distinguished1
  he determined to visit3 full of design
 and  hope he landed on the continent2  
his friends expected  accounts from him 
of the new scenes that opened in  his   
progress1 but were informed in a few    
days1 that  ,euryalus was dead4    ,such
 was the end of ,euryalus4  ,he is      
entered that  state1 whence none ever   
shall return2 and can now  only benefit 
his friends1 by remaining to their      
memories a permanent and efficacious    
instance of the  blindness of desire1   
and the uncertainty of all terrestrial  
good4  ,but perhaps1 every man has like 
me lost an  ,euryalus1 has known a      
friend die with happiness in  his grasp2

 and yet every man continues to think   
himself secure of life1 and defers to   
some future time  of leisure what he    
knows it will be fatal to have  finally 
omitted4    ,it is1 indeed1 with this as
 with other frailties  inherent in our  
nature2 the desire of deferring to      
another time1 what cannot be done       
without endurance  of some pain1 or     
forbearance of some pleasure1 will1     
perhaps1 never be totally overcome or   
suppressed2  there will always be       
something that we shall wish  to have   
finished1 and be nevertheless unwilling 
to  begin3 but against this             
unwillingness it is our duty  to        
struggle1 and every conquest over our   
passions  will make way for an easier   
conquest3 custom is  equally forcible to
 bad and good2 nature will always  be at
 variance with reason1 but will rebel   
more feebly  as she is oftener subdued4 
,the common neglect of the present hour 
is more  shameful and criminal1 as no   
man is betrayed to it  by errour1 but   

admits it by negligence4  ,of the       
instability of life1 the weakest        
understanding never thinks  wrong1      
though the strongest often omits to     
think  justly3 reason and experience are
 always ready to  inform us of our real 
state2 but we refuse to listen  to their
 suggestions1 because we feel our hearts
  unwilling to obey them3 but1 surely1  
nothing is more  unworthy of a          
reasonable being1 than to shut his      
eyes1 when he sees the road which he is 
commanded  to travel1 that he may       
deviate with fewer reproaches  from     
himself3 nor could any motive to        
tenderness1  except the consciousness   
that we have all been guilty  of the    
same fault1 dispose us to pity those who
 thus  consign themselves to voluntary  
ruin4            ,the end of etext of   
volume #d            ,notes about this  
etext3    ,this etext needs             
spellchecked6  ,especially the          
non-english words6    ,greek letters are
 encoded in gr brackets1 and the letters

 are  based on ,adobe's ,symbol font4   
,the markings are not the correct       
symbol but rather the closest equivalent
 accented character4  the encoded       
characters used include3  ,,ae1 ae1 oe1 
'1 61  81 31 1 ,,oe1 and ,s4    ,hebrew 
occurs once and is encoded in hb format 
with a mnemonic  that has not been      
standardized yet-- thus needs checked4  
three flavors of hyphen are used in the 
4wp#f edition3  #a7 ,hard hyphen '-'    
#b7 ,soft hyphen '-'  #c7 ,soft hyphen  
,,eol  7seen in reveal codes only7      
7,the ,soft hyphens ,,eol are retained  
from the hardcopy  word-breaks7    ,two 
tricks are implemented in the 4wp#f     
edition for ease in  converting  to     
,,pvascii for ,gutenberg3  #a7 an extra 
space at the end of a  sentence  that   
occurs at the ,,eol position allows     
easier text reflow and  #b7 there  is a 
space just before a ,lft ,tab to protect
 those tabs from  being  converted to   
,gutenberg's space between paragraphs   
without  corrupting  poetry and other   

indented text that should not be        
reflowed or  be  otherwise treated as a 
paragraph4  i4e4 only ,hrt,lft ,tab get 
converted to ,hrt,hrt and not ,hrt ,lft 
,tab cases4    sc  small caps have not  
been encoded in this etext4    ,emphasis
 7whatever those are7 italics have a 99 
mark4    ,the ae and oe ligiture in the 
italics cases1 ,,might be and  probably 
are transposed6  7i can't tell the      
difference7    ,footnotes are moved to  
end of paragraphs cited4    editorial   
comments in curly brackets              
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999
999999999999 ,,fyi                      
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999
999999999999  ,larsen ,,eb-#aa encode   
scheme includes3       7taken1 in part1 
from ,,eb-#aa guide to proofreaders7    
,acute              ,french ecole       
,grave              ,italian cittaoe    
,umlaut_/,diaeresis   ,german uber      
,circumflex         ,french ile  ,hacek 
,czech hacvek  ,macron                  
,sanskrit su'mtra  ,breve               

,persian787 ,chaum  ,ring               
,swedish ,,aangstrom  ,tilde            
,spanish sen8or  ,dot                   
,hebrew ,abi4ram  ,cedilla              
,french garc1on    ,superscript         
,emc#b,s 7massenergy eqn47  compare     
,subscript          ,h#bs,o 7for water7 
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999
9999999999999999999999999999999999999999
999999999999999999999999999999999999    
bean- depag1 quote marks1 underscores2  
straightened up  footnotes4 some encodes
 removed1 left gr and hb alone except   
for familiar encodes4 ,i'd dump the     
greek1 or start over with it4  ,i tried 
to get a copy of this1 but ,,the        
,,rambler is apparently in #b  volumes  
in other sets1 and ,i got the wrong one4
 ,did not read or  spell-check this4