told my trumpeter's dead: and I cannot find in my heart, at present, to say any thing to my own disadvantage. : It is very cominon with authors in their first performances, to talk to their readers thus, If this meets with a suitable reception, or, if this should meet with due encouragement, I shall hereafter publish, &c.-This only manifests the value they put on their own writings, since they think to frighten the public into their applause, by threatning, that unless you approve what they have already wrote, they intend never to write again; when perhaps it may not be a pin matter, whether they ever do or no. As I have not observed the critics to be more favorable on this account, I shall always avoid saying any thing of the kind; and conclude with telling you, that if you send me a bottle of ink and a quire of paper by the bearer, you may depend on hearing further from, Sir, Your most humble servant, THE BUSY-BODY. THE BUSY-BODY-No. II. From Tuesday Februar 4, to Tuesday February 11, 1728-9. All fools have still an itching to deride, And fain would be upon the laughing side—POPE. MONSIEUR Rochefocault tells us somewhere in his memoirs, that the Prince of Condé delighted much in ridicule, and used frequently to shut himself up for half a day together, in his chamber, with a gentleman, that was his favourite, purposely to divert himself with examining what was the foible, or ridiculous side of every noted person in the court.-That gentleman said afterwards in some company, that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any body, than this same humour in the prince; and I am somewhat inclined to be of this opinion.. The general tendency there is among us to this embellishment (which I fear has too often grossly imposed upon my loving countrymen instead of wit) and the applause it meets with from a rising generation, fill me with fearful apprehensions for the future reputation of my country: a young man of modesty (which is the most certain indication of large capacities) is hereby discouraged from attempting to make any figure in life: his apprehensions of being out-laughed, will force him to continue in a restless obscurity, without having an opportunity of knowing his own merit himself, or discovering it to the world, rather than venture to expose himself in a place, where a pun or a sneer shall pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged by that of the lungs. Among these witty gentlemen, let us take a view of Ridentius: what a contemptible figure does he make with his train of paltry admirers? This wight shall give himself an hour's diversion with the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded expres sion in his discourse, or even some personal defect; and the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the company to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal share of the reckoning with himself. If such a fellow makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his life, if it is necessary to his constitution, or if he has a great desire of growing suddenly fat, let him eat; let him give public notice where any dull stupid rogues may get a quart of four penny for being laughed at; but it is barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet for the benefit of conversation, and a proper relaxation from business, that one should be the butt of the company, and four men made merry at the cost of the fifth. How different from this character is that of the good-natured, gay Eugenius? who never spoke yet, but with a design to divert and please; and who was never yet baulked in his intention. Eugenius takes more delight in applying the wit of his friends, than in being admired himself; and if àny one of the company is so unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, he will make use of some ingenious artifice to turn the edge of ridicule another way, choosing rather to make himself a public jest, than be at the pain of seeing his friend in confusion. Among the tribe of laughers I reckon the pretty gentlemen, that write satires, and carry them about in their pockets, reading them themselves in all company they happen into; taking an advantage of the ill taste of the town, to make themselves famous for a pack of paltry, low nonsense, for which they deserve to be kicked, rather than admired, by all who have the least tincture of politeness. These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my readers; nay, I expect they will be squibbing at the Busy-Body himself. However, the only favour he begs of them is this, that if they cannot control their overbearing itch of scribbling, let him be attacked in downright biting lyricks; for there is no satyr he dreads half so much, as an attempt towards a panegyric. 柒 THE BUSY-BODY. No. III. From Tuesday February 11, to Tuesday February 18, 1728-9. Non vultus instantis Tyranni Mente quatit solida, nec austér, Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.-HOR. IT is said, that the Persians, in their ancient constitution, had public schools, in which virtue was taught as a liberal art or science and it is certainly of more consequence to a man, that he has learnt to govern his passions, in spite of temptation; to be just in his dealings, to be temperate in his pleasures, to support himself with fortitude under his misfortunes, to behave with prudence in all his affairs, and in every circumstance of life; I say, it is of much more real anvantage to him to be thus qualified, than to be a master of all the arts and sciences in the world beside. Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glorious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help thinking as I do now, and will acknowledge he deserves the name, without being honoured by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed in the most obscure part of the country. His circumstances are such, as only put him above necessity, without affording him many superfluities: yet who is greater than Cato? I happened but the other day to be at a house in town, where, among others, were met men of the most note in this place; Cato had business with some of them, and knocked at the door. The most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well as the smallest features and lineaments of the face, give a nice observer some notion of his mind. Methought he rapped in such a peculiar manner, as seemed of itself to express there was one who deserved as well as desired admission. He appeared in the plainest country garb; his great coat was coarse, and looked old and threadbare; his linen was homspun; his beard, perhaps, of seven days growth; his shoes thick and heavy; and every part of his dress corresponding. Why was this man received with such concurring respect from every person in the rooin, even from those who had never known him or seen him before? It was not an exquisite form of person or grandeur of dress, that struck us with admiration. I believe long habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the countenance: there was something in the air of his face, that manifested the true greatness of his mind; which likewise appeared in all he said, and in every part of his behaviour, obliging us to regard him with a kind |