Vanity.
To begin with Vanity, it is a Failing the greatest Part of Mankind are tinctured with, more or less. For all Men are apt to flatter themselves with a Fancy, that they have some one or more good Quallities, or extraordinary Gifts, that raise ’em above the ordinary Level of Men; and therefore hug and cherish, what they think valuable and singular in ’em. It is never commendable, sometimes pardonable, when the excellencies are real, and it is moderate so much must be allow’d to humane frailty. It is ridiculous and intollerable when it is extravagant, misplac’d, or groundless. It is very injudicious, and makes men commonly dote on their Defects, andexpose their blemishes by their Fondness, which makes ’em more remarkable by the care and ornament bestow’d on ’em. It persuades hard Favour’d and distorted Fellows to dress, and value their Persons, Cowards to pretend to Courage, and provoke Beatings, Blockheads to set up for Wit, and make themselves ridiculous in Print, Upstarts to brag of their Families, and be reminded of the Garrets they were born, and the Stalls they were brought up in. In Women the object of it is their Beauty, and is excusable in those that have it. Those that have it not may be pardon’d, if they endeavour at it; because it is the only undisputed advantage our Sex has over the other, and what makes ’em respected beyond all other Perfections, and is alone ador’d. In Men it has not only this Object, but all those before mention’d, and a hundred other. It is admirably seen in a Writing, reciting Fop Author, is in full Lustre in a Beau, but its most unlucky Prospect is ina Swaggering Coward, who is a Fool beyond the Conviction of Smart.|Character of a Bully.|His Courage is like an Ague Fit, that leaves him upon a Fright, and returns when he is out of the reach of a Cudgel. He spends much time in the Fencing School, and Fights briskly where there is no danger of Wounds nor Smart. His Hands are instructed, but his Heels do him all the Service. He is a nice observer of Punctilio’s, and takes more Affronts than are given him. He draws first, and runs first, and if ever he makes another Man run, it is after him. He is a Pebble that sparkles like a Diamond, but wants hardness. He talks perpetually of what he will do, but thinks continually of what he shall suffer. He is often in Quarels, yet seldom in Rencounters, and is glad of a Challenge, that he may know whom, and when to avoid. He brings up the Rear at an Engagement, and leads the Van in the Retreat. He is a Man of much Passion, but the most predominantis his Fear. He offers affronts readily, but has too much honour to justifie them, and will submit to any terms of satisfaction rather than occasion Blood-shed. He is so full of Courage, that it boils over when there is no occasion, and hisSwordandPersonare always at Leisure, and at your Service, till you want them, and then to his great Trouble, he is always indispensably engag’d otherwise. He wearsRed, and a longSwordopenly to shew his Valour, andMail, privately to shew his Discretion. He threatens terribly, but he is like a Witch, if you draw Blood of him, he has no power to hurt you. No Man shews or boasts more of his Scars with less Reason. He scorns to take a blow in the Face, and a Back-piece is as good to him as a whole sute of Armour. He is at first the Terrour of all theYoung Bullies, at last their Maygame, and they blood theirCub Hectorsupon him, as they do youngBeagleson aHare. Good usage makes him insolent, but he fawns like aSpanielmostupon those that beat him. When he is discover’d by all the rest of the World, the Cheat passes still upon himself, and he is pleas’d with the terrible Figure he makes in his Glass, tho’ he is ready to shake at his own Shaddow.
Character of a Scowrer.
There are men of an humour directly opposite to this, yet e’ry whit as Mad, Foolish, and Vain; these are your Men of nice Honour, that love Fighting for the sake of Blows, and are never well but when they are wounded They are severe Interpreters of Looks, are affronted at every Face that don’t please ’em, and like true Cocks of the Game have a quarrel to all Mankind at first sight. They are passionate Admirers of scarr’d Faces, and dote on a Wooden Leg. They receive a Challenge like aBillet Douce, and a home thrust as a Favour. Their common Adversary is the Constable, and their usual Lodging the Counter. Broken heads are a diversion, and an Arm in a Scarfe is a high satisfaction. They are frugalin their expences with the Taylor, for they have their Doublets pinkt on their Backs, but they are as good as an Annuity to the Surgeon, tho’ they need him not to let ’em blood.Flandersis their Mistress, and a Clap from her carries ’em off the Stage. If they return, anHospitalis their Retreat, or theSherifftheir Executour. These two,Madam, are very different extravagances, and very strange one’s, yet they are real, and such as appear every day. But, what is most to be wonder’d at, arise both from the same Principle, and the same mistaken Notion, and are only differenc’d by the diversity of Tempers in Men. The common Motive to both is Vanity, and they jointly concurr in this Opinion, that Valour is the most estimable, and most honourable Quality, that Man is capable of; they agree in a desire to be honour’d and fear’d, but they differ in their methods in persuing this common End. The one is naturally active, bold and daring; and therefore takes the true course to arrive at it by shewingwhat he can do, by what he dare suffer, and his immoderate desire and indiscretion suffer him to know no bounds. The other is mean Spirited and fearful, and seeks by false Fire to Counterfeit a heat that may pass for genuine to conceal the Frost in his Blood, and like an ill Actor, over-does his Part for want of understanding it, which ’tis impossible he shou’d. Among peaceable Men, and those of his own Temper he comes of with Colours flying, and those are the Men he wou’d be valiant amongst only, cou’d he read Men’s hearts. But the first Rencounter betrays the Ass thro’ the Lions Skin, and he is Cudgel’d like an Ass in Spite of his Covering. It is our happinessMadam, that we lie under no manner of Temptation from these two Vanities,|Imitation ridiculous.|whereof one is so dangerous, the other so ridiculous. For all humours that are forc’d against the natural bent of our tempers must be so. Nature is our best guide, and has fitted ev’ry Man for somethings more particularly than others; whichif they had the sense to prosecute, they wou’d at least not be ridiculous, if they were not extaordinary. But so prevalent are our Vanity, and this Apish Humour of Imitation, that we persuade our selves, that we may practise with applause, whatever we see another succeed in, tho’ as contrary to the intent of our Nature, as Dancing to an Elephant; so some Men that talk well of serious matters, are so mov’d at the applause some merry Drolls gain, that they forget their gravity, and aiming to be Wits, turn Buffoons; There are others, that are so taken with the actions and grimace of a good Mimick, that they fall presently to making awkard Faces and wry Mouths, and are all their lives after in a Vizor, Maskt tho’ bare fac’d.
These, and innumerable others of the like Nature, are the lesser Follies of Mankind, by which their Vanity makes ’em fit only to be laugh’d at. There are others, who by more studied andrefin’d Follies arrive to be more considerable, and make a great Figure and Party among their Sex.
Character of a Beau.
Of the first rank of these is theBeau, who is one that has more Learning in his Heels than his Head, which is better cover’d than fill’d. His Taylor and his Barber are his Cabinet Councel, to whom he is more beholding for what he is, than to his Maker. He is One that has travell’d to see Fashions, and brought over with him the newest cut suit, and the prettiest Fancy’d Ribbands for Sword Knots. His best Acquaintance atPariswas his Dancing Master, whom he calls the Marquiss, and his chief Visits to the Opera’s. He has seen theFrenchKing once, and knows the name of his cheif Minister, and is by this suffciently convinc’d that there are no Politicians in any other Part of the World. His improvements are a nice Skill in the Mode, and a high Contempt of his own Country,and of Sense. All the knowledge he has of the Country, or Manners of it, is in the keeping of the Valet that follow’d him hither, and all that he retains of the Language is a few modish words to lard his discourse with, and shew his Breeding, and the names of his Garniture. He shou’d be a Philosopher, for he studies nothing but himself, yet ev’ry one knows him better, that thinks him not worth knowing. His looks and gestures are his constant Lesson, and his Glass is the Oracle that resolves all his mighty doubts and scruples. He examines and refreshes his Complexion by it, and is more dejected at a Pimple, than if it were a Cancer. When his Eyes are set to a languishing Air, his Motions all prepar’d according to Art, his Wig and his Coat abundantly Powder’d, his Gloves Essenc’d, and his Handkercher perfum’d and all the rest of his Bravery rightly adjusted, the greatest part of the day, as well the business of it at home, is over; ’tis time to launch, and down hecomes, scented like a Perfumers Shop, and looks like a Vessel with all her rigging under sail without Ballast. A Chair is brought within the door, for he apprehends every Breath of Air as much, as if it were a Hurricane. His first Vesit is to theChocolateHouse, and after a quarter of an Hours Compliment to himself in the great Glass, he faces about and salutes the Company, and puts in practice his Mornings Meditations; When he has made his Cringes round, and play’d over all his Tricks, out comes the fineSnush Box, and hisNoseis Regal’d a while: After this he begins to open, and starts some learned Arguments about the newest Fashion, and hence takes occasion to commend the next Man’s Fancy in his Cloths, this ushers in a discourse of the Appearance lastBirth Night, orBallat Court, and so a Critick upon thisLord, or thatLadiesMasquing Habit. From hence he adjourns to thePlay-house, where he is to be met again in the side Box, from whence he makeshis Court to all the Ladies in general with his Eyes, and is particular only with theOrange-Wench. After a while he engages some neighbouring Vizor, and together they run over all the Boxes, take to Pieces every Face, examine every Feature, pass their Censure upon every one, and so on to their Dress; here he very Judiciously gives his opinion upon every particular, and determines whose Colours are well chosen, whose Fancy is neatest, and whose Cloths fit with most Air; but in conclusion sees no Body compleat but himself in the whole House. After this he looks down with contempt upon the Pit, and rallies all the slovenly Fellows, and awkard Beau’s (as he calls them) of t’other End of the Town, is mightily offended at their ill scentedSnush, and in spight of all hisPulvilioandEssences, is overcome with the stink of theirCordovant Gloves. To close all,Madam, in the Mask must give him an account of the Scandal of the Town, which she does in the History of abundance of Intrigues real or feign’d; atall which he laughs aloud and often, not to shew his satisfaction, but his Teeth. She shews him who is kept by such a Lord, Who was lately discarded by such a Knight, for granting favours too indiscreetly to such a Gentleman: who has lately been in the Country for two or three Months upon extraordinary Occasions. To all which he gives great attention, that he may pass for a Man of Intelligence in another Place. His next Stage isLocket’s, where his Vanity, not his Stomach, is to be gratified with something that islittleanddear,QuailsandOrtalansare the meanest of his Diet, and a Spoonful ofGreen PeaseatChristmass, are worth to him more than the inheritance of theFeildwhere they grow inSummer. Every thing falls in his Esteem, as it falls in price, and he wou’d not so much as tast theWine, if the hard name, and the high rate did not give it a relish. After a glass or two, (for a Pint is his stint) he begins to talk of his Intrigues, boasts much of the Favours he has receiv’d, and shewscounterfeit Tokens, and in Conclusion, slanders some Lady or other of unquestion’d Vertue with a particular fondness for him. His Amours are all profound Secrets, yet he makes a Confidence of ’em to every Man he meets with. He pretends a great reverence for the Ladies, and a mighty tenderness of their Reputations; yet he is like aFlesh Flye, whatever he blows on is tainted. He talks of nothing under Quality, tho’ he never obtain’d a Favour, which his Man might not have for half a Crown. He and his Footman in this Case are likeEnglishandDutchat an Ordinary inHolland, the Fare is the same, but the Price is vastly different. Thus the Show goes forward, till he is beaten for Trespasses he was never guilty of, and shall be damn’d for Sins he never Committed. At last, with his Credit as low as his Fortune he retires sullenly to his Cloister, theKing’s-Bench, orFleet, and passes the rest of his days in Privacy, and Contemplation. Here,Madam, if youplease wee’l give him oneVisitmore, and see the lastActof theFarce; and you shall find him (whose Sobriety was before aVice, as being only thePimpto his otherPleasures, and who fear’d a lightedPipeas much as if it had been a greatGunlevell’d at him) with hisNose Flaming, and hisBreathstinking of Spirits worse than aDutch Tarpawlin’s, and smoking out of a shortPipe, that for some Months has been kept hot as constantly as aGlass-House, and so I leave him to his Meditation.
You wou’d think it yet more strange, that any one should beSlovenlyandNastyout ofVanity; yet such there are I can assure you,Madam, and cou’d easily give a description of ’em, but that so foul a Relation must needs be Nauseous to a Person so Neat as yourSelf; and wou’d be treating You as theCountry Squiredid hisCourt Friend, who when he had shew’d him all the Curiosities of his House and Gardens, carried him into his Hogsties.But there are more than enow to justifie what I have said of the Humour ofDiogenes, who was as vain and as proud in hisTub, asPlatocou’d be in the midst of his finePersian Carpets, and richFurniture. Vanity is only an Ambition of being taken notice of, which shews it self variously according to the humour of the Persons; which was more extravagant in theAnti-Beau, than in theBeau Philosopher. Vanity is the veriestProteusin the World, it can ApeHumility, and can make Men decry themselves on purpose to be Flattered; like some cunningPreachersthat cry upMortificationandSelf-denialperpetually, and are pamper’d all the while by the Zeal and at the Charges of their Followers, who are affraid the good Man shou’d starve himself. It is the Blessing of Fools, and the Folly of Ingenious Men. For it makes those contentedly hugg themselves under all the scorn of the World, and the Indignities that are offer’d ’em, and these restless and dissatisfied withits applause. Both think the World envious, and that their merit is injur’d, and it is impossible to right either of ’em to their Minds; for those have no title to the pretence of merit, and these not so much as they think they have. Yet it is the Happiness of the first that they can think themselves capable of movingEnvy;|Vanity a Blessing to Fools.|for though they commonly mistake the Derision of Men, for their applause, yet Men are sometimes so ill Natur’d as to undeceive ’em, and then it is their Comfort, that these are envious Men, and misrepresent the Worlds opinion of ’em. Cou’d these Men be convinc’d of their mistake, I see nothing that shou’d hinder them from being desperate, and hanging or disposing of themselves some other such way. For though a Man may comfort himself under Afflictions, it is either that they are undeserved, or if deserved, that he suffers only for Oversights, or rash Acts, by which the wisest Men may be sometimes overtaken; that he is in the main Discreet andPrudent, and that others believe him so. But when a Man falls under his ownContempt, and does not only think himself not wise, but byNaturemade absolutely incapable of ever becomingWise, he is in a deplorableState, and wants the commonComfort, as well ofFools, asWise Men, Vanity; which in such a Case is the only properMediatourof aReconcilement. No Quality seems to be more Providentially distributed to every Man according to his Necessity; for those that have least Wit, ought to have the greatest Opinion of it; as all other Commodities are rated highest, where they are scarcest. By this means the level is better maintain’d amongst Men, who, were this imaginary Equality destroy’d, might be apt to reverence, and idolize one another too much, and forgetting the common Fate, they are all Born to, pay Honours too near divine to their Fellow Mortals. But as the humour of the World now runs, this sort ofIdolatryis scarce likely to come intoFashion. We have too great an Opinion of our selves, to believe too well of any one else, and we are in nothing more difficult than in points of Wit and Understanding, in either of which we very unwillingly yield the Preference to any Man. There is nothing of which we affect to speak with more humility and indifference than our own Sense, yet nothing of which we think with more Partiality, and Presumption. There have been some so bold as to assume the Title of theOraclesofReasonto themselves, and their own Writings; and we meet with others daily, that think themselvesOraclesofWit. These are the most Vexatious Animals in the World, that think they have a Priviledge to torment and plague every Body; but those most who have the best Reputation for their Wit of Judgment; asFleasare said to molest those most, who have the tenderestSkins, and the sweetestBlood.
Of these the most voluminous Fool is the Fop Poet, who is one thathas always more Wit in his Pockets than any where else,|Character of a Poetaster.|yet seldom or never any of his own there.Esop’sDawwas aTypeof him; For he makes himself fine with the Plunder of all Parties. He is a Smuggler of Wit, and stealsFrenchFancies without paying the customary Duties. Verse is hisManufacture; For it is more the labour of his Finger than his brain. He spends much time in Writing, but ten times more in Reading what he has Written. He is loaden constantly with more Papers, and duller than aClerkinChancery, and spends more time inHearings, andRehearings. He asks your Opinion, yet for fear you shou’d not jump with him, tells you his own first. He desires no Favour, yet is disappointed, if he be not Flatter’d, and is offended always at the Truth. His first Education is generally aShop, or aCounting-House, where his acquaintance commences with theBell-manupon a new Years day. He puts him upon Intriguing with theMuses, and promises toPimpfor him. From this time forward he hates the name ofMechanick, and resolves to sell all his stock, and purchase a Plantation inParnassas. He is now a PoeticalHaberdasherofSmall Wares, and deals very much inNovels,Madrigals,Riddles,Funeral, andLove Odes, andElegies, and other Toyes fromHelicon, which he has a Shop so well furnish’d with, that he can fit you with all sorts and Sizes upon all Occasions in the twinkling of an Eye. He frequentsApollo’sExchangeinCovent-Garden, and picks up the freshest Intelligence whatPlaysare upon the Stocks, or ready to be launch’d; who have lately made a good Voyage, who a saving one only, and who have suffer’d a Wreck inLincoln’s-Inn-Feilds, orDrury-Lane, and which are brought into the Dock to be Careen’d and fitted for another Voyage. He talks much ofJack Dryden, andWill. Wyckerley, and the rest of that Set, and protests he can’t help having some respect for ’em, because they have so much for him, and hisWritings; otherwise he cou’d shew ’em to be meer Sots and Blockheads that understand little of Poetry, in comparison of himself; but he forbears ’em meerly out of Gratitude, and Compassion. Once a Month he fits out a smallPoetical Smeckat the charge of his Bookseller, which he lades withFrench Plundernew Vampt inEnglish, small Ventures ofTranslated Odes,ElegiesandEpigramsof Young Traders, and ballasts with heavyProseof his own; for which returns are to be made to the several Owners in Testers, or applause from the Prentices and Tyre Women that deal for ’em. He is the Oracle of those that want Wit, and the Plague of those that have it; for he haunts their Lodgings, and is more terrible to ’em, than their Duns. His Pocket is an unexhaustible Magazine ofRhime, andNonsense, and his Tongue like a repeating Clock with Chimes, is ready upon every touch to sound to ’em. Men avoid him for the same Reason, they avoid thePillory, the security of theirEars; of which he is as merciless a Persecutor. He is the Bane of Society, a Friend to the Stationers, the Plague of the Press, and the Ruine of his Bookseller. He is more profitable to theGrocersandTabacconiststhan thePaper Manufacture; for his Works, which talk so much of Fire and Flame, commonly expire in their Shops inVapourandSmoak. If he aspire toComedy, he intrigues with some experienc’dDamselof theTown, in order to instruct himself in the humour of it, and is cullied by her intoMatrimony, and so is furnish’d at once with a Plot, and two good Characters, himself and his Wife, and is paid with a Portion for a Jointure inParnassus, which I leave him to make his best of.
Vanity Universal.
I shall not trouble you with any more Instances of the foolish vanities of Mankind; because I am affraid I have been too large upon that Head already. Not that I think there is any Order or Degree of Men, which wou’d not affordmany and notorious instances for our Purpose. For as I thinkVanityalmost the Universal mover of all our Actions, whether good or bad; so I think there are scarce any Men so Ingenious, or so Vertuous, but something of it will shine through the greatest Part of what they do, let them cast never so thick a Vail over it. What makes Men so solicitous of leaving a Reputation behind ’em in the World, though they know they can’t be affected with it after Death, but this even to a degree of Folly? What else makes great Men involve themselves in the Fatigues and Hazards of War, and intricate Intrigues of State, when they have already more than they can enjoy, but an Itch of being talk’d of and remembred, to which they sacrifice their present happiness and repose?
But I shall carry these Considerations no farther; because I have already singled out some of those many whoseVanityis more extravagant and ridiculous, than any ourSex is chargeable with, these slight Touches may serve to let ’em see, that even the greatest, and Wisest are not wholely exempt, if they have it not in a higher Degree, tho’ they exercise it in things more Popular, and Plausible. I hope therefore the burthen of this good Quality will not hereafter be laid upon us alone, but the Men will be contented to divide the Load with us, and be thankful that they bear less than their Proportion.
Impertinence.
Impertinencecomes next under Consideration, in which I shall be as brief, as I conveniently can, in regard I have been so long upon the precedeing Head.Impertinenceis a humour of busying our selves about things trivial, and of no Moment in themselves, or unseasonably in things of no concern to us, or wherein we are able to do nothing to any Purpose. Here our Adversaries insult over us, as if they had gain’d an intireVictory, and theFieldwere indisputable; but they shall have no cause forTriumph, this is no Post of such mighty advantage as they fondly persuade themselves. ThisPresumptionarises from an Erroneous Conceit, that all those things in which they are little concern’d, or consulted,|Commonly mistaken.|are triffles below their care or notice, which indeed they are not by Nature so well able to manage. Thus, when they hear us talking to, and advising one another about the Order, Distribution and Contrivance ofHoushold Affairs, about theRegulationof theFamily, andGovernmentofChildrenandServants, the provident management of aKitchin, and the decent ordering of aTable, the suitableMatching, and convenient disposition ofFurnitureand the like, they presently condemn us for impertinence. Yet they may be pleased to consider, that as the affairs of the World are now divided betwixt us, theDomestickare our share, and out of which we are rarely suffer’d to interpose our Sense. They may be pleased to consider likewise, that as light and inconsiderable as these thingsseem, they are capable of no Pleasures of Sense higher or more refin’d than those ofBruteswithout our care of ’em. For were it not for that, their Houses wou’d be meerBedlams, their most luxurious Treats, but a rude confusion of ill Digested, ill mixt Scents and Relishes, and the fine Furniture, they bestow so much cost on, but an expensive heap of glitteringRubbish. Thus they are beholding to us for the comfortable Enjoyment of what their labour or good Fortune hath acquir’d or bestow’d, and think meanly of our care only, because they understand not the value of it. But if we shall be thought impertinent for Discourses of this Nature, as I deny not but we sometimes justly may, when they are unseasonable; what censure must those Men bear, who are prepetually talking ofPoliticks,State AffairsandGrievancesto us, in which perhaps neither they, nor We are much concern’d, or if we be, are not able to propose, much less to apply any Remedy to ’em? Surely these areimpertinent; not to call theBeau, orPoetasteron theStageagain, whose whole Lives are one continued scene of Folly and Impertinence; let us make the best of ourNews Monger.
Character of a Coffee-House Politician.
He is one whose Brains having been once over-heated, retain something of the Fire in ’em ever after. He mistakes his Passion for Zeal, and his Noise and Bustling, for Services. He is always full of Doubts, Fears, and Jealousies, and is never without some notable Discovery of a deep laid Design, or a dangerous Plot found out in aMeal Tub, orPetticoat. He is a mighty Listner afterProdigies, and never hears of aWhale, or aComet, but he apprehends some suddenRevolutionin the State, and looks upon aGroaning-board, or aspeaking-head, as fore-runners of theDayofJudgment. He is a great Lover of the King, but a bitter Enemy to all about him, and thinks it impossible for him to have any butEvil Counsellors, and though he be very zealousfor the Government, yet he never finds any thing in it butGrievancesandMiscarriagesto declaim upon. He is a Well-wisher to theChurch, but he is never to be reconcil’d to theBishopsandClergy, and rails most inveterately at theActofUniformity. He hatesPersecutionimplacably, and contends furiously forModeration, and can scarce think well of theToleration, because it is an Act of the State. He professes himself of theChurchofEngland, pretends to like the Worship of it, but he goes to Meetings in spight to theParsonof hisParish. HisConscienceis very tender and scrupulous in Matters of Ceremony, but it is as steely and tough as Brawn behind his Counter, and can digest any Sin of Gain. He lodges at home, but he lives at theCoffee-house. He converses more withNews Papers,GazettesandVotes, than with hisShop Books, and his constant Application to thePublicktakes him off all Care for hisPrivate Concern. He is always settling theNation, yet cou’d never manage hisownFamily. He is a mighty Stickler at allElections, and tho’ he has noVote, thinks it impossible any thing shou’d go right unless he be there to Bawl for it. His business is atHome, but his thoughts are inFlanders, and he is earnestly investing of Towns till theSheriff’s Officersbeleaguer his Doors. He is busie in forcing ofCounterscarps, and storming ofBreaches, while hisCreditorstake hisShopby surprize, and make Plunder of hisGoods. Thus by mending theState, He marrs his ownFortune; and never leaves talking of theLawsof theLand, till the Execution of ’em silence him.
This sort of Impertinents theCoffee-housesare every day full of; nay, so far has this contagious Impertinence spread it self, thatPrivate Houses, andShops, nay, the veryStreetsandBulksare infected and pester’d with Politicks and News. Not a Pot cou’d go glibly down, or a flitch go merrily forward withoutNamur, a while ago; ’twasSpiceto thePorter’s Ale, andWaxto theCobler’s Thread; the one suspended his Draught, and the other his Awl to enquire what was become of theRogue, and were very glad to hear he was taken, and expected no doubt he shou’d come over and make ’em aHoly-dayat his Execution. They were mightily rejoyc’d at the Arresting of the MareschalBoufflers, and made no question but they shou’d see him amongst the rest of theBeastsatBartholomew Fairfor Two Pence. This Folly of theMobwas in some measure excusable, because their Ignorance led ’em into an expectation of seeing what had given the World so much Trouble. But those that have better knowledge of things have no suchPlea, they ought to have been wiser, than to have busied themselves so much and so earnestly about affairs, which all their care and Sollicitude could have no more influence upon, than over the Weather. ’Twas pleasant to see what Shoals the report of the arrival of aHolland, orFlanders Mail, brought to theSecretary’s Office, thePost Office, and theCoffee-Houses; every one Crowding to catch the News first, which as soon as they had, they posted away like so many Expresses to disperse it among their Neighbours at more distance, that waited with Ears prickt up to receive ’em, or walk’d uneasily with a Foolish Impatience to and from the Door, or Window, as if their looking out so often wou’d fetch ’em the sooner. Most Men in their News are likeBeau’s in their Diet, the worst is welcome while ’tis fresh and scarce, and the best is not worth a Farthing when it has been blown upon; and commonly they fare likeBeau’s, are fond of it while ’tis young and insipid, and neglect it when ’tis grown up to its full, and true relish. No sooner is it rumour’d that a Breach is made in theCastle Wall, or theWhite Flaghung out, but aCouncil of Waris call’d in everyCoffee-housein Town; theFrench, andDutch Prints, their Intelligencers are call’d for immediately, and examin’d, and not a Shot is mention’d but they start as if theBall whizz’d just then by their Ears. After this follows a serious debate about a general Assault, and whether they shall storm immediately, or not; who shall begin the Attack; what Conditions shall be granted on Capitulation. The Castle ofNamurthus taken, or Surrender’d, they proceed to take their Measures, and settle the next Campaign, and whatever harm we suffer by those mischeivousFrenchin the Field, they are sure to take sufficient Revenge, and pay ’em off Swingingly in theCoffee-houses: But as if this were not enough, Our greatest Actions must be Buffoon’d in Show, as well as Talk. ShallNamurbe taken and our Hero’s of the City not show their Prowess upon so great an Occasion?|City Militia.|It must never be said, that theCoffee-housesdar’d more thanMoor-Fields; No, for the honour ofLondon, out comes the Foreman of theShopvery Formidable inBuffandBandileers, and away he marches with Feather in Cap, to the general Rendezvous in theArtillery Ground. There these terrible Mimicks ofMarsare to spend their Fury inNoiseandSmoke, upon aNamurerected for that purpose on aMolehill, and by the help ofGunsandDrumsout-stink and out-rattleSmith-fieldin all its Bravery, and wou’d be too hard for the greatest Man in allFrance, if they had him but amongst ’em. Yet this is but Skirmishing, the hot Service is in another Place, when they engage theCaponsandQuart Pots; never was Onset more Vigorous, For they come to Handy-Blows immediately, and now is the real cutting and slashing, and Tilting without Quarter, Were the Towns inFlandersall wall’d withBeef, and theFrenchas good meat asCapons, and drest the same way, the King need never beat his Drums for Soldiers; all these Gallant Fellows wou’d come in Voluntarily, the meanest of which wou’d be able to eat a Mareschal, and whom nothing cou’d oppose in conjunction.
Nothing is more common, and familiar than this sort of Impertinence;Most Men wou’d have little to do, did they busie themselves about nothing, but what they understood, or were concern’d in. A Monkey is not liker a Man in his Figure, than in his humour. How ready are all Mankind to censure without Authority, and to give advice unaskt, and without reason. They are very much mistaken, that think this forwardness to thrust themselves into other’s affairs, springs from any Principle of Charity or Tenderness for ’em, or the least Regard to the Welfare of their Neighbours. ’Tis only a Vain Conceit that they are wiser, and more able to advise, which puts ’em upon engaging in things they have nothing to do with,|Officious Impertinences.|and passing their Judgments Magisterially on matters they have no Cognizance of, and generally little Information, or Skill in. They are desirous the World shou’d have as great an Opinion of ’em as they have of themselves, and therefore impertinently interpose their own Authority and Sense, tho’ never so little to the purpose, onlyto shew how well they cou’d manage, were it their Business; thus they advise without good intention, or kindness, and censure without design, or malice to the Persons counsell’d, or reflected on, These buzzing Insects swarm as thick every where, and are as troublesome asMuskettoesin theWest-Indies. They are perpetually in a hurry of Business, yet are forc’d to rack their Inventions to employ their Leisure. They are very busie for every Body, and serve no Body. They are always in hast, and think themselves expected every where with Impatience, yet come sooner alwayes than they are welcome. They will walk a Mile, and spend an hour to tell any one how urgent their Business is, and what hast they are in to be gone. Their Expedition is their greatest Loss, For Time is the only thing that lies heavy upon their hands. They are walkingGazetts, that carry News from one Neighbour to another, and have their Stages about the Town as regular and certain, as aPenny Postman.Every Man is their acquaintance, but no Man their Friend. They drudge for every Body, and are paid by noBody, and tho’ their Lives be worn out in endeavours to oblige all Mankind, when they die no one regrets their Loss, or misses their Service.
There are another sort of Impertinents,|Character of a Vertuoso.|who, as they mind not the Business of other Men where it concerns ’em not, neglect it likewise where it does; and amuse themselves continually with the Contemplation of those things, which the rest of the World slight as useless, and below their regard. Of these the most Egregious is theVirtuoso, who is one that has sold an Estate in Land to purchase one inScallop,Conch,Muscle,Cockle Shells,Periwinkles,Sea Shrubs,Weeds,Mosses,Sponges,Coralls,Corallines,Sea Fans,Pebbles,MarchasitesandFlint stones; and has abandon’d the Acquaintance and Society of Men for that ofInsects,Worms,Grubbs,Maggots,Flies,Moths,Locusts,Beetles,Spiders,Grashoppers,Snails,LizardsandTortoises. His study is likeNoah’s Ark, the general Rendezvous of all Creatures in theUniverse, and the greatest part of his Moveables are the remainders of his Deluge. His Travels are not design’d as Visits to the Inhabitants of any Place, but to the Pits, Shores and Hills; from whence he fetches not the Treasure, but the Trumpery. He is ravish’d at finding an uncommon shell, or an odd shap’d Stone, and is desperately enamour’d at first sight of an unusual markt Butter-flie, which he will hunt a whole day to be Master of. He trafficks to all places, and has his Correspondents in e’ry part of the World; yet his Merchandizes serve not to promote our Luxury, nor encrease our Trade, and neither enrich the Nation, nor himself. A Box or two ofPebblesorShells, and a dozen ofWasps,SpidersandCaterpillarsare his Cargoe, He values aCamelionorSalamandersEgg, above all the Sugars and Spices of theWestandEast-indies,and wou’d give more for the Shell of aStar-fish, orSea Urchinentire, than for a wholeDutchHerring Fleet. He visites Mines, Colepits, and Quarries frequently, but not for that sordid end that other Men usually do,viz.gain; but for the sake of the fossile Shells and Teeth that are sometimes found there. He is a smatterer atBotany, but for fear of being suspected of any useful design by it, he employs his curiosity only aboutMosses,Grasses,Brakes,Thistles, &c. that are not accus’d of any vertue in Medicine, which he distinguishes and divides very nicely. He preserves carefully thoseCreatures, which other Men industriously destroy, and cultivates sedulously those Plants, which others root up as Weeds. He is the Embalmer of deceas’d Vermin, and dresses his Mummyes with as much care, as the AncientEgyptiansdid their Kings. His Cash consists much in old Coins, and he thinks the Face ofAlexanderin one of ’em worth more than all his Conquests. His Inventory is a list of the Insectsof all Countries, and the Shells and Pebbles of all Shores, which can no more be compleat without two or three of remarkableSignatures, than anApothecariesShop without aTortoiseand aCrocodile, or a CountryBarber’s without a batter’dCittern. A piece of Ore with a Shell in it is a greater Present than if it were fine Gold, and a string ofWampompeagis receiv’d with more joy, than aRopeofOrient Pearl, orDiamondswou’d be. His Collection ofGarden Snails,Cockle ShellsandVerminecompleated, (as he thinks) he sets up for aPhilosopher, and nothing less than Universal Nature will serve for a Subject, of which he thinks he has an entire History in hisLumber Office. Hence forward hestrutsandswells, and despises all those little insignificant Fellows, that can make no better use of those noble incontestable Evidences of the Universal Deluge,ScallopandOyster Shells, than to stewOysters, or meltBrimstoneforMatches. By this time he thinks it necessary to give theWorld anEssayof his Parts, that it may think as highly of ’em (if possible) as he does himself; and findingMoseshard beset of late, he resolves to give him a lift, and defend his Flood, to which he is so much oblig’d for sparing his darling Toys only. But as great Masters use, he corrects him sometimes for not speaking to his Mind, and gives him the lie now and then in order to support his Authority. He shakes the World to Atoms with ease, which melts before him as readily as if it were nothing but a Ball of Salt. He pumps even the Center, and drains it of imaginary stores by imaginary Loopholes, as if punching the Globe full of holes cou’d make hisHypothesishold Water. He is a Man ofExpedition, and does that in a few days, which costMosessome Months to compleat. He is a Passionate Admirer of his own Works without a Rival, and superciliously contemns allAnswers, yet the leastObjectionthrows him into the Vapours. He sets up for a grandPhilosopher, andpalmsHypothesesupon the World, which future Ages may (if they please) expect to hear his Arguments for; at present he is in no humour to give ’em any other satisfaction than his own word, that he is infallible. Yet those that have a Faith complacent enough to take a Gentleman’s word for his own great Abilities, may perhaps be admitted to a sight of his grand Demonstration, hisRaree Show; the particulars of which he repeats to ’em in a whiningTone, e’ry whit as formal and merry, though not so Musical, as the Fellows that used formerly to carrytheirs at their Backs. His ordinary discourse is of hisTravels under Ground, in which he has gone farther (if he may be believ’d) than a whole Warren ofConies. Here he began his Collection of Furniture for his PhilosophicalToy Shop, which he will conclude with his Fortune, and then like all Flesh revert to the place from whence he came, and be translated only from one Shop to another.
This,Madam, is another sort of Impertience our Sex are not liable to; one wou’d think that none butMad Men, or highlyHypochondriacal, cou’d employ themselves at this rate. I appeal to you, or indeed to any Man of Sense, whether acts like the wiser Animal; the man that with great care, and pains distinguishes and divides the many Varieties of Grass, and finds no other Fruit of his labour, than the charging of his Memory with abundance of superfluous Names; or the Ass that eats all promiscuously, and without distinction, to satisfy hisAppetiteand supportNature. To what purpose is it, that these Gentlemen ransack all Parts both ofEarthandSeato procure theseTriffles? It is only that they may give their Names to some yet unchristen’d Shell or Insect. I know that the desire of knowledge, and the discovery of things yet unknown is the Pretence; But what Knowledge is it? What Discoveries do we owe to their Labours? It is only the Discovery of some few unheeded Varieties of Plants, Shells,or Insects, unheeded only because useless; and the Knowledge, they boast so much of, is no more than a Register of their Names, and Marks of Distinction only. It is enough for them to know that aSilk Wormis a sort ofCaterpiller, that when it is come to maturity Weaves aWeb, is metamorphos’d to aMoth-Flye, lays Eggs, and so Dies. They leave all further enquiry to the Unlearned and Mechanicks, whose business only they think it to prosecute matters of Gain and Profit. Let him contrive, if he can, to make thisSilkserviceable toMankind; theirSpeculationshave anotherScope, which is the founding some wild, uncertain, conjecturalHypothesis, which may be true or false; yet Mankind neither Gainers nor Losers either way a little in point ofWisdomor Convenience. These Men are just the reverse of aRattle Snake, and carry in theirHeads, what he does in hisTail, and move Laughter rather than Regard. What improvements ofPhysick, or any useful Arts,what noble Remedies, what serviceable Instruments have theseMushrome, andCockle shellHunters oblig’d the World with? For I am ready to recant if they can shew so good a Med’cine as Stew’dPrunes, or so necessary an Instrument as aFlye Flapof their own Invention and Discovery. Yet these are the Men of exalted Understandings, the Men of elevated Capacities, and sublime Speculations, that Dignifie and Distinguish themselves from the rest of the World by Specious Names, and Pompous Titles, and continue notwithstanding as veryReptilesin Sense, as those they converse so much with.
I wou’d not have any Body mistake me so far, as to think I wou’d in the least reflect upon any sincere, and intelligent Enquirer into Nature, of which I as heartily with a better knowledge, as anyVertuosoof ’em all. You can be my Witness,Madam, that I us’d to say, I thought Mr.Boylemore honourable for his learned Labours, than for his NobleBirth; and that theRoyal Society, by their great and celebrated Performances, were an Illustrious Argument of the Wisdom of theAugustPrince, their Founder of happyMemory; and that they highly merited theEsteem,RespectandHonourpaid ’em by the Lovers of Learning allEuropeover. But tho’ I have a very great Veneration for theSocietyin general, I can’t but put a vast difference between the particular Members that compose it. WereSupererogationa Doctrine in Fashion, ’tis probable some of ’em might borrow of their Fellows merit enough to justifie their Arrogance, but alas they are come an Age too late for that trick; They are fallen into a Faithless, Incredulous Generation of Men that will give credit no farther than the visible Stock will extend: And tho’ a Vertuoso should swell a Title-Page even till it burst with large Promises, and sonorous Titles, the World is so ill natur’d as not to think a whit the better of a Book for it. ’Tis an ill time to trade with impliciteFaith, when so many have so lately been broken by an overstock of thatCommodity; no sooner now a days can a Man write, or steal an Hypothesis, and promise Demonstration for it hereafter in this or the next World; but out comes some malicious Answer or other, with Reasons in hand against it, overthrows the credit of it, and puts the poor Author into Fits. For though a great Philosopher that has written a Book of three Shillings may reasonably insult, and despise a six penny Answer, yet the Indignity of so low pric’d a Refutation wou’d make aStoickfret, andFrisklike a Cow with a Breeze in her Tail, or a Man bitten by aTarantula. Men measure themselves by theirVanity, and are greater or less in their own Opinions, according to the proportion they have of it; if they be well stock’d with it, it may be easie to confute, but impossible to convince ’em. He therefore that wou’d set up for a great Man, ought first to be plentifully provided of it, and then a Score ofCockle Shells,a dozen ofHodmandods, or any Trifle else is a sufficient Foundation to build a Reputation upon. But if a Man shall abdicate his lawful Calling in pure affection to these things, and has for some years spent all the Time and Money he was Master of in prosecution of this Passion, and shall after all hear hisCaterpillarsaffronted, and hisButter-fliesirreverently spoken of, it must be more provoking to him, than ’tis to aLionto be pull’d by theBeard. And if, when to crown all his Labours, he has discover’d a Water so near a kin to the famous one, that cou’d be kept in nothing but the hoof of an Ass, that it was never found but in theScullof the sameAnimal; a Water that makes no more of melting aWorld, than aDutchmandoes of aFerkinofButter; and when he has written a Book of Discoveries, and Wonders thereupon, if (I say) the Impertinent Scriblers of the Age, will still be demandingProofsand writingAnswers, he has reason to throw down hisPenin a rage, andpronounce the world, that cou’d give him such an interruption, unworthy to be blest with his future labours, and breath eternal Defiance to it, as irreconcilable, as the quarrel of the Sons ofOedipus. To which prudent Resolution, let us leave him till he can recover his Temper.
These Instances,Madam, will (I hope) suffice to shew that Men are themselves altogether as impertinent, as they maliciously misrepresent us. It is not for want of plenty of others that I content my self with these; but I am not willing to trouble you with any of an inferiour Character. These are all impertinents ofMarkandNote, and have severally the good fortune to find crowds ofFoolsof their own Sex to applaud and admire them.Impertinenceis a failing, that has itsRootinNature; but is not worth Laughing at, till it has receiv’d the finishing strokes of Art. A Man through natural defects may do abundance of incoherent, foolishActions, yet deserveCompassionandAdvicerather thanDerision. But to see Men spending their Fortunes, as well as Lives, in a course ofRegular Folly, and with an industrious, as well as expensive Idleness running through tediousSystemsof impertinence, wou’d have split the sides ofHeraclitus, had it been his fortune to have been a Spectator. ’Tis very easie to decide which of theseImpertinentsis the most signal; theVertuosois manifestly without a Competitour. For our Follies are not to be measur’d by the degree ofIgnorance, that appears in ’em, but by the Study, Labour and Expence they cost us to finish and compleat ’em. So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our Extravagancies, the greater is the folly of ’em. Upon this Score it is, that the last mention’d deservedly claim the preference to all others; they have improv’d so well their Amusements into an Art, that theCredulousandIgnorantare induc’d to believe there is some secret Vertue,some hidden Mystery in those darling toys of theirs; when all their Bustling amounts to no more than a learnedImpertinence, (for so they abuse the Term) and all they teach Men is, but a specious expensive method of throwing away both Time and Money.
I intend not in what remains to trouble you with any more such instances; because I am sensible these have already swell’d thisLetterto aVolumn, which was not at first my intent. I shall therefore dispatch the remaining part of the charge in; as few Words as possible.|Dissimulation became necessary.|Amongst the restDissimulationis none of the leastBlemishes, which they endeavour to fix upon us. This Quality, though it can’t upon any occasion deserve the name of aVertue, yet according to the present Constitution of the World, is many times absolutely necessary, and is a main ingredient in the Composition of Human Prudence. It is indeed oftentimes criminal, but it is only accidentally so, as Industry,Wit, and most other good Qualities may be, according, to the Ends and Purposes to which they are misemploy’d. Dissimulation is nothing but the hiding or disguising our secret thoughts, or Inclinations under another appearance. I shall not endeavour to absolve our Sex wholly from all use of this Quality, or Art (call it which you please) because I think it may upon many occasions be used with Innocence enough, and upon some can’t without great Imprudence be omitted. The World is too full ofCraft,Malice, andViolence, for absoluteSimplicityto live in it. It behoves therefore our Sex as well as the other to live with so much Caution, and Circumspection in regard to their own Security, that their Thoughts and Inclinations may not be seen so naked, as to expose ’em to theSnares, designs, and practices ofCrafty Knaves, who wou’d make a property of ’em; or lay ’em open to the wickedEfforts, and mischievous Impressions ofEnvy, orMalice, whose pleasure springs from the hurtof others. Nothing gives our Adversaries so great an advantage over us, as the knowledge of our Opinions, and Affections, with something agreable to which they will be sure to bate all their Traps and Devices. For this reason it is that it has been Proverbially said of Old, that,He that knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to live. The Experience of all Ages since has confirm’d this Observation, and ours no less than any of the Preceding. This premis’d, I suppose no Wise Man will blame our Sex for the use of an Art so necessary, to preserve ’em from becoming aPreyto every designing Man, an Art of which himself must make great use to deserve that Title. Yet I am afraid, that upon enquiry our Sex will not be found to have so much of it as is requisite, at least not generally; Our sedentary Life, and the narrow Limits to which our Acquaintance, and Business are Circumscrib’d, afford us so little Variety, so regular a Face of things, that we want the means of obtainingthe Mastery of so useful an Art, which no question but we shou’d as soon acquire as Men, had we but equal Opportunities. Hence it is thatWomenare more apt to show theirResentmentsupon allProvocationsthanMen; and are thought naturally morePeevishandCaptious, by those that apprehend not the true reason; WhereasMenare altogether asStomachful, and takeOffenceas soon, but they cover and suppress their Indignation better, not with a design to forget any Injury receiv’d, but to wreak theirRevengemore covertly and effectually. This is another advantage Men derive from liberty of Conversation and promiscuous Business, wherein the Variety of Contingencies they have to provide against, and the Diversity of Tempers they deal with, force ’em to turn and wind themselves into allShapes, and accommodate themselves to all Humours. There is indeed yet a higher sort ofDissimulation,|Dissimulation when criminal.|which is always Criminal, that is when Men not only cloud their realSentimentsand Intentions,but make Profession of and seem zealously to affect the contrary; this by a more proper and restrain’d Name is call’dDeceipt, and is always us’d in an ill Sense. This Art is most practic’d in Courts wherePolicie, andAmbitionreign; there You may seeEnemieshugging and caressing one another with all outwardExpressionsofTendernessandFriendshipimaginabe, while they are secretly contriving each others ruine. There you may see Men cringing to those, they wou’dSpurnif they durst, andFlatteringthose they despise and rail at behind; theirBacks, The Court is a place where we come very rarely otherwise than asSpectators, not asActours; asOrnaments, not asInstruments; and therefore are seldom involv’d in the guilty Practices of it. Nor is it the Court only, but all Places are infected with this Vice, where there is any Encouragement of Profit or Pleasure to be hop’d from successful Treachery, of which no Place is so barren as not to afford some. This Deceipt is so far frombeing the Vice of our Sex, that they are the common Object on which it is daily practic’d: Nothing is more frequently met with than false Love in Men,|False Love commonly practic’d.|which is now grown so familiar, that a Company of Six of both Sexes can scarce meet, but aSham Passioncommences immediately, is urg’d, protested, and sworn to be real with all imaginable Violence. If these false Arts, mock sighing, and Dying prevail upon any foolish, easie, credulousWoman, theSham Loveris blown up with the Success, he is big and in Labour till he be deliver’d of the Secret, which with great satisfaction he proclaims in all Places where he comes: ’tis his highest Exploit ofGallantry, which he will by no means lose the credit of. Thus he thinks her ruine a step to Reputation, and founds his own Honour upon her Infamy. ThisMadamis the basest of Treachery; for they are not satisfied with the Success of their false Promises, and Oaths, but they insult over the weakness of a too fondWoman, andTriumphin her Dishonour. I am sorry there are anyWomenso foolish and forward, as to give hopes and encouragement to such ungenerous Fellows; yet we may be assur’d that they are not a quarter so many as those vainBoasterswou’d make ’em. Much more be said on this head, but that I think it high time to pass on to the next, which isEnviousness, so foul a Blot to a fair Character, that no Merit can wash it out, or atone sufficiently for it.
Envyis the Parent ofCalumny, and the Daughter ofJealousie. Men seldom envy others,|Enviousness|till they fear being out strip’d by ’em in Fortune or Reputation. It is the most criminal, because the most injurious to Vertue, and worth of all our natural Failings, against which it’s Malice is generally bent. This vice andJealousieseem to be more particularly hated ofProvidencethan any other; For they carry their Punishment inseparably along with ’em, The Envious and the Jealousneed no other Tormentours than their own Thoughts. The Envious Man ruines his own to disturb anothers Tranquillity, and sacrifices his own Happiness and Repose to a perverse Desire of troubling his Neighbours. He feeds likeToadsupon the Venome of the Earth, and sucks in Scandal greedily, that he may at Pleasure disgorge it to the greater annoyance of other Men. His mind has theVapours, a Sweet Report of any one throws it into Convulsions, and Agonies, and a foul one is the Releif and Refreshment of it. A wholesome Air free from the Blasts ofDetractionandSlanderis as certainly pernicious to him, asIrelandtoFrogsandToads. This Vice is generally disclaim’d by both Sexes, yet generally practic’d by both. Men love as little to have their Reputation as their Chimneys over-topt by their Neighbours; For they think by that means their names become dark, as their Houses do smoaky by the other: Yet thro’ a lazy Malignity had rather pull the other’s down to their Level, than buildtheir own up higher. This Humour prevails indeed, yet not in equal Measure in both Sexes. For as we have confessedly lessAmbition, so have we apparently less of this Poison which usually attends it, and arises from a self Interested Principle, which makes ’em endeavour by base sinister means to level that Merit which they think stands in their way to Preferment, and which they despair of being able to surmount by honourable attempts. For what need any one use base Sleights to stop the Man, whom by fair Speed he thought he cou’d overtake. No sooner is any Man rais’d to any Eminence in the World, but half the Sex at least join in Confederacy to raise a Battery of Scandal against him, to bring him down again.Honouris thePilloryof great Desert, whither a Man is no sooner rais’d, but the vile Rascally inferiour Croud gather immediately together, to throw Dirt at him, and make that which was intended as a Grace, and Reward, but a more honourable Punishment. Our Sex seldom arriveto this Pitch of Envy, our Ambition is more bounded, and our Desires sooner satisfied. Hence it is that we are less troubl’d at the Prosperity of others; for not giving our selves the Liberty of aiming at things far out of our Power, they are the sooner compass’d, and we the sooner at Ease. He, that thinks himself Happy, is incapable of Envying another’s Felicity, since he sees him possess’d of nothing which either he has not or despises not. Yet it must be confess’d that the lesser Piques, and Grudgings are daily to be met with among us, but no less among Men. What is it that spawns daily such Fryes ofSatyristswithout Wit, andCritickswithout Judgment, but this humour of carping, and nibbling at the Reputation of others? But they are generally abundantly furnisht with Impudence, a good Quality that commonly supplies largely the want of all other.