and feventy. I think it is in Sir William Temple's Obfervations upon the United Netherlands. The government there was indebted about thirteen millions, and paid the intereft of five per cent. per annum. They had got a fumn of money, I think not above a million, with which they prepared to discharge such a part of the principal. The creditors were fo unable to find fo good an intereft elfewhere, that they petitioned the States to keep their money, with an abatement of one per cent. of their intereft. The fame money was offered to the fame number of other creditors with the fame fuccefs, until one per cent. of their whole intereft was abated, yet at laft fuch a part of the principal was discharged. And when this fum came to be lent to private perfons it had the fame effect; there one per cent. of the common interest was abated throughout the whole province, as well between subject and subject, as between the fubjects and their governors. And nothing is fo notorious, as that the value of lands in that country has rifen in proportion, and that eftates are fold there for thirty years value of their whole

rents. It is not then to be doubted, that twelve millions extraordinary to be lent at intereft, or purchate lands or govern ment fecurities, muft have the like effect in England, at least that lands will arife four years rent in every purchase above their prefent value. And how great an improvement mutt this be of the landed intereft?

The rents of England, according to the proportion of the Land- Tax, fhould be little more than eight millions, yet perhaps they may be twelve. If there is made an addition of four years value in every purchafe; this, upon all the rents of England, amounts to forty-eight millions. So that, by the importation and clear gain of twenty millions by trade, the landed-intereft gains an improvement of forty-eight millions, at least fix times as much as all other interefts joined together.

I should think this argument, which I have endeavoured to fet in a clear light, muft needs be fufficient to fhew that the landed and the trading interefts cannot in reality but be friends to each other.

TO WISHES FIX AN END.

THE Writers of Morality affign two

forts of Goods, the one is in itfelf desirable, the other is to be defired, not on account of it's own excellency, but for the fake of fome other thing which it is inftrumental to obtain. Thefe are ufually diftinguished by the appellations of End and Means. We are prompted by nature to defire the former, but that we have any appetite for the latter is owing to choice and deliberation.

But as wife men engage in the pursuit of means, from a farther view of fome natural good with which they are connected; fools, who are actuated by imitation and not by reafon, blindly pursue the means, without any design or profpect of applying them. The refult whereof is, that they entail upon themselves the anxiety and toil, but are debarred from the fubfequent delights which arife to wifer men; fince their views not reaching the end, terminate in those things, which, although they have a relative goodness, yet

HOR. EP. 2 L. I. v. 56. CREECH.

confidered abfolutely, are indifferent, or, it may be, evil.

The principle of this misconduct is a certain fhort-fightedness of the mind: and as this defect is branched forth into innumerable errors in life, and hath infected all ranks and conditions of men; fo it more eminently appears in three fpecies, the Critics, Mifers, and Free-thinkers. I fhall endeavour to make good this obfervation with regard to each of them. And first of the Critic.

Profit and pleafure are the ends that a reasonable creature would propofe to obtain by ftudy, or indeed by any other undertaking. Thofe parts of learning which relate to the imagination, as eloquence and poetry, produce an immediate pleafure in the mind. And fublime and ufeful truths, when they are conveyed in apt allegories, or beautiful images, make diftinct and lafting impreffions; by which means the fancy becomes fubfervient to the understanding, and the mind is at the

fame

fame time delighted and inftructed. The exercife of the understanding in the difcovery of truth, is likewise attended with great pleasure, as well as immediate pro fit. It not only ftrengthens our faculties, purifies the foul, fubdues the paf fons; but befides thefe advantages, there is alfo a fecret joy that flows from intellectual operations, proportioned to the nobleness of the faculty, and not the lefs affecting becaufe inward and unfeen.

But the mere exercife of the memory as fuch, instead of bringing pleasure or immediate benefit, is a thing of vain irkfomeness and fatigue, especially when employed in the acquifition of languages, which is, of all others, the most dry and painful occupation. There must be therefore fomething further propofed, or wife men would never engage in it. And, indeed, the very reafon of the thing plainly intimates that the motives which firft drew men to affect a knowledge in dead tongues, was that they looked on them as means to convey more useful and entertaining knowledge into their minds. There are nevertheless certain critics, who, feeing that Greek and Latin are in request, join in a thoughtless purfuit of thofe languages, without any farther view. They look on the ancient authors, but it is with an eye to phrafeology, or certain minute particulars which are valuable for no other reafon but becaufe they are defpifed and forgotten by the rest of mankind. The divine maxims of morality, the exact pictures of human life, the profound difcoveries in the arts and fciences, just thoughts, bright images, fubline fentiments, are overlooked while the mind is learnedly taken up in verbal remarks.

Was a critic ever known to read Plato with a contemplative mind, or Cicero, in order to imbibe the noble sentiments of virtue and a public fpirit which are confpicuous in the writings of that great man; or to perufe the Greek or Roman hiftories, with an intention to form his own life upon the plan of the illuftrious patterns they exhibit to our view? Plato wrote in Greek. Cicero's Latin is fine. And it often lies in a man's way to quote the ancient hiftorians.

There is no entertainment upon earth more noble and befitting a reasonable anind, than the perufal of good authors; or that better qualifies a man to pafs his

life with fatisfaction to himself, or aðvantage to the public. But where men of fhort views and mean fouls give themfelves to that fort of employment which nature never defigned them for, they, indeed, keep one another in countenance; but instead of cultivating and adorning their own minds, or acquiring an ability to be useful to the world, they reap no other advantage from their labours than the dry confolation ariling from the applaufes they bestow upon each other.

And the fame weakness, or defect of the mind, from whence pedantry takes it's rife, does likewise give birth to avatice. Words and money are both to be regarded as only marks of things. And as the knowledge of the one, fo the poffeffion of the other, is of no ufe, unless directed to a further end. A mutual commerce could not be carried on among men, if fome common standard had not been agreed upon, to which the value of all the various products of art and nature were reducible, and which might be of the fame ufe in the conveyance of property, as words are in that of ideas. Gold by it's beauty, fearceness, and durable nature, feems defigned by Providence to a purpofe fo excellent and advantageous to mankind. Upon thefe confiderations that metal came firft into esteem. But fuch who cannot fee beyond what is neareft in the purfuit, beholding mankind touched with an affection for gold, and being ignorant of the true reason that introduced this odd paflion into human nature, imagine fome intrinfic worth in the metal to be the caufe of it. Hence the fame men who, had they been turned towards learning, would have employed themselves in laying up words in their memory, are by a different application employed to as much purpose in treasuring up gold in their coffers. They differ only in the object; the principle on which they act, and the inward frame of mind, is the fame in the critic and the mifer.

And upon a thorough obfervation, our modern fect of free-thinkers will be found to labour under the fame defect with thofe two inglorious fpecies. Their short views are terminated in the next objects, and their specious pretences for liberty and truth are fo many inftances of miltaking the means for the end. But the fetting thefe points in a clear light muft be the fubject of another paper.

N° LXXVIII.

IT

-DOCEBO

T is no fmall pleasure to me, who am zealous in the interefts of learning, to think I may have the honour of leading the town into a very new and uncommon road of criticifm. As that kind of literature is at prefent carried on, it confifts only in a knowledge of mechanic rules, which contribute to the ftructure of different forts of poetry; as the receipts of good housewives do to the making puddings of flour, oranges, plumbs, or any other ingredients. It would, methinks, make thefe my inftructions more easily intelligible to ordinary readers, if I difcourfed of thefe matters in the ftile in which ladies learned in economics dictate to their pupils for the improvement of the kitchen and larder.

I fhall begin with Epick Poetry, becaufe the critics agree it is the greateft work human nature is capable of. I know the French have already laid down many mechanical rules for compofitions of this fort, but at the fame time they cut off almost all undertakers from the poflibility of ever performing them; for the first qualification they unanimoufly require in a poet, is a genius. I fhall here endeavour (for the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifeft, that Epick Poems may be made without a genius, nay, without learning or much reading. This must neceffarily be of great ufe to all thofe poets who confefs they never read, and of whom the world is convinced they never learn. What Moliere obferves of making a dinner, that any man can do it with money, and if a profeft cook cannot without, he has his art for nothing; the fame may be faid of making a poem, it is cafily brought about by him that has a genius, but the fkill lies in doing it without one. In purfuance of this end, I fhall prefent the reader with a plain and certain receipt, by which even fonneteers and ladies may be qualified for this grand perform

ance.

ROSCOMMON.

I know it will be objected, that one. of the chief qualifications of an Epick Poet, is to be knowing in all arts and feiences. But this ought not to difcou rage thofe that have no learning, as long as indexes and dictionaries may be had, which are the compendium of all knowledge. Befides, fince it is an established rule, that none of the terms of thofe arts and fciences are to be made use of, one may venture to affirm, our poet cannot impertinently offend in this point. The learning which will be more particularly neceffary to him, is the ancient geogra phy of towns, mountains, and rivers for this let him take Cluverius, value four-pence.

Another quality required is a compleat skill in languages. To this I anfwer, that it is notorious perfons of na genius have been oftentimes great linguifts. To inftance in the Greek, of which there are two forts; the original Greek, and that from which our modern authors tranflate. I fhould be unwilling to promife impoffibilities; but, modeftly fpeaking, this may be learned in about an hour's time with eafe. I have known one, who became a fudden profeffor of Greek, immediately upon application of the left-hand page of the Cambridge Homer to his eye. It is, in thefe days, with authors as with other men, the well-bred are familiarly acquainted with them at first fight; and as it is fufficient for a good general to have furveyed the ground he is to conquer, fo it is enough for a good poet to have feen the author he is to be mafter of. But to proceed to the purpose of this paper.

Geffry of Monmouth, or Don Belianis of Greece) thofe parts of ftory which afford moft fcope for long defcriptions; put thefe pieces together, and throw all the adventures you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero whom you inay chufe for the found of his name, and put him into the midst of thefe adventures: there let him work for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out ready prepared to conquer or to marry; it being neceffary that the conclufion of 2 Epick Poem be fortunate.

To make an episode. - Take any remaining adventure of your former collection, in which you could no way involve your hero; or any unfortunate accident that was too good to be thrown away; and it will be of ufe, applied to any other perfon; who may be loft and evaporate in the courfe of the work, without the least damage to the compofi

tion.

For the moral and allegory. These you may extract out of the fable afterwards at your leifure. Be sure you ftrain them fufficiently.

FOR THE MANNERS.

For thofe of the hero, take all the best qualities you can find in all the celebrated heroes of antiquity; if they will not be reduced to a confiftency, lay them all on a heap upon him. But be fure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have; and, to prevent any mistake which the world may be fubject to, felect from the alphabet thofe capital letters that compofe his name, and fet them at the head of a dedication before your poem. However, do not abfolutely obferve the exact quantity of thefe virtues, it not being determined whether or no it be neceffary for the hero of a poem to be an honeft man. For the under characters, gather them from Homer and Virgil, and change the names as occafion ferves.

FOR THE MACHINES.

Take of Deities, male and female, as

many as you can use. Separate them into two equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the middle. Let Juno put him in a ferment, and Venus mollify him. Remember on all occafions to make ufe of volatile Mercury. If you havé need of devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits from Taffo. The ufe

FOR THE DESCRIPTIONS.

For a tempeft. Take Eurus, Zephyr, Aufter, and Boreas, and caft them together in one verfe. Add to these of rain, lightning, and of thunder, (the loudest you can) quantum fufficit. Mix your clouds and billows well together until they foam, and thicken your description here and there with a quickfand. Brew your tempeft well in your head, before you fet it a blowing.

For a battle. Pick a large quantity of images and defcriptions from Homer's Iliads, with a fpice or two of Virgil; and if there remain any overplus, you may lay them by for a fkirmish. Seafon it well with fimiles, and it will make an excellent battle.

For burning a town. If fuch a defcription be neceffary, because it is certain there is one in Virgil, Old Troy is ready burnt to your hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or two of the Theory of the Conflagration, well circumstanced, and done into verse, will be a good fuccedaneum.

As for fimiles and metaphors, they may be found all over the creation, the moft ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them. For this advile with your bookfeller.

by the Dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer.

I must not conclude, without cautioning all writers without genius in one material point; which is, never to be afraid of having too much fire in their works. I should advife rather to take their warmeft thoughts, and fpread them abroad upon paper; for they are obferved to cool before they are read.

HOR. EP. 8. L. I. V. 3.

T is an employment worthy a reafonable creature, to examine into the difpofition of men's affections towards each other, and, as far as one can, to improve all tendencies to good-nature and charity. No one could be unmoved with this epiftle, which I received the other day from one of my correfpond ents, and which is full of the most ardent benevolence.

Seldom read your political, your critical, your ludicrous, or, if you will call them fo, your polite papers, but, when I obferve any thing which I think written for the advancement of goodwill amongst men, and laying before them objects of charity, I am very zealous for the promotion of fo honest a defign. Believe me, Sir, want of wit, or wildom, is not the infirmity of this age; it is the fhameful application of both that is the crying evil. As for my own part, I am always endeavouring at least to be better, rather than richer or wifer. But I never lamented that I was not a wealthy man fo heartily as the other day. You must understand that I now-andthen take a walk of morti cation, and pafs a whole day in making myself profitably fad. I for this end vifit the hof pitals about this city; and when I have rambled about the galleries at Bedlam, and feen for an hour the utmost of all Lamentable objects, human reafon dif

CREECH,

tracted; when I have from grate to grate offered up my prayers for a wretch who has been reviling me; for a figure that has feemed petrified with anguifh; for a man that has held up his face in a pofture of adoration toward Heaven to ut

ter execrations and blafphemies; I fay, when I have beheld all thefe things, and thoroughly reflected on them, until I have startled myfelf out of my prefent ill courfe, I have thought fit to pass to the obfervation of lefs evils, and relieve myself by going to thofe charitable receptacles about this town, appointed only for bodily diftreffes. The gay and frolic part of mankind are wholly unacquainted with the numbers of their fellowcreatures, who languifh under pain and agony, for want of a trifle out of that expence by which thofe fortunate perfons purchase the gratification of a superfluous paffion or appetite. I ended the last of thefe pilgrimages which I made, at St. Thomas's Hofpital in Southwark. I had feen all the variety of woe which can arife from the distempers which attend human frailty; but the circumftance which occafioned this letter, and gave me the quickest compaffion, was beholding a little boy of ten years of age, who was just then to be expelled the houfe as incurable. My heart melted within me to think what would become of the poor child, who, as I was informed, had not a farthing in the world, nor father nor mother, nor friend to help it. The infant faw my Y

forrow