2

which Polyphemus promised Ulysses, that he would devour him the last they think to subdue a writer, as Cæsar did his enemy, with a Veni, vidi, vici. I confess I value the opinion of the judicious few, a R——r,1 a D——s,2 or a W——k; but for the rest, to give my judgment at once, I think the long dispute among the philosophers about a vacuum, may be determined in the affirmative, that it is to be found in a critic's head. They are at best but the drones of the learned world, who devour the honey, and will not work themselves : and a writer need no more regard them, than the moon does the barking of a little senseless cur. For, in spite of their terrible roaring, you may, with half an eye, discover the ass under the lion's skin.

But to return to our discourse: Demosthenes being asked what was the first part of an orator, replied, Action: what was the second, Action: what was the third, Action, and so on, ad infinitum. This may be true in oratory; but contemplation in other things, exceeds action. And, therefore, a wise man is never less alone, than when he is alone:

Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus.

And Archimedes, the famous mathematician, was so intent upon his problems, that he never minded the soldiers who came to kill him. Therefore, not to detract from the just praise which belongs to orators, they ought to consider, that nature, which gave us two eyes to see, and two ears to hear, has given us but one tongue to speak; wherein, however, some do so abound, that the virtuosi, who have been so long in search for the perpetual motion, may infallibly find it there.

Some men admire republics, because orators flourish there most, and are the great enemies of tyranny; but my opinion is, that one tyrant is better than a hundred. Be

1 Thomas Rymer (1638 or 9-1713). Wrote an unsuccessful tragedy, "Edgar," and "A View of the Tragedies of the Last Age.' But is noted for his edition of the "Foedera," of which he published fifteen volumes during his lifetime. [T. S.]

2

John Dennis, poet and critic (1657-1733-4). Wrote several dramatic pieces, including "Plot and no Plot" and "Liberty Asserted." He was an excellent critic, if a poor poet. He became blind in his old age and died in extreme poverty. [T. S.]

sides, these orators inflame the people, whose anger is really but a short fit of madness.

After which, laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through. But in oratory the greatest art is to hide art.

Artis est celare artem.

But this must be the work of time. We must lay hold on all opportunities, and let slip no occasion, else we shall be forced to weave Penelope's web, unravel in the night what we spun in the day. And therefore I have observed, that Time is painted with a lock before, and bald behind, signifying thereby, that we must take time (as we say) by the forelock, for when it is once past, there is no recalling it.

The mind of man is at first (if you will pardon the expression) like a tabula rasa, or like wax, which, while it is soft, is capable of any impression, till time has hardened it. And at length death, that grim tyrant, stops us in the midst of our career. The greatest conquerors have at last been conquered by death, which spares none, from the sceptre to the spade.

Mors omnibus communis.

All rivers go to the sea, but none return from it. Xerxes wept when he beheld his army, to consider that in less than a hundred years they would be all dead. Anacreon was choked with a grape-stone; and violent joy kills as well as violent grief. There is nothing in this world constant, but inconstancy; yet Plato thought, that if virtue would appear to the world in her own native dress, all men would be enamoured with her. But now, since interest governs the world, and men neglect the golden mean, Jupiter himself, if he came to the earth, would be despised, unless it were, as he did to Danae, in a golden shower. For men now-a-days worship the rising sun, and not the setting.

Donec eris felix multos numerabis amicos.

1 Lib. I. Epist. II. 62.

Thus have I, in obedience to your commands, ventured to expose myself to censure, in this critical age. Whether I have done right to my subject, must be left to the judgment of my learned reader: however, I cannot but hope, that my attempting of it may be encouragement for some able pen to perform it with more success.

THE BICKERSTAFF PAMPHLETS.

THE almanack-makers of the seventeenth century called themselves Philomaths. In reality they were quacks trading on the credulity of a public willing to pay for the information supplied. A particular "philomath, named John Partridge, who was a cobbler by trade, had made himself widely known by his works on astrology and as editor of the "Merlinus Liberatus." Indeed, his fame was European. Swift, ever ready to expose any form of humbug, took an opportunity early in the February of 1708 to tackle this of the philomath. Writing over the name of Mr. Isaac Bickerstaff, a name his eye had casually caught over the sign of a locksmith's shop, Swift, in admirable disguise, issued his "Predictions for the Year 1708." He assumes himself to be the only serious student of science. Among many of the events prophesied was "a trifle," which he only mentioned "to show how ignorant those sottish pretenders to astrology are in their own concerns. The "trifle" was the death of Partridge himself. "I have consulted the star of his nativity," solemnly remarks the astrologer Isaac, “by my own rules, and find that he will infallibly die upon the 29th of March next, about eleven at night, of a raging fever."

On the 30th of March promptly appeared "a letter to a person of honour," detailing "the accomplishment of the first of Mr. Bickerstaff's predictions." John Partridge had died, but Mr. Bickerstaff had made an error by four hours. The writer of the letter was, of course, Swift himself; and the town rose to the fun. Most people, who were not "in the know," took Bickerstaff quite seriously, and the Portuguese Inquisition even went so far as to order the burning of his pamphlet, no doubt because of the serious matters foretold of continental affairs and personages. The Stationers' Hall assumed Partridge to be really dead, and struck his name from its rolls. Following on this came a pamphlet entitled, "Squire Bickerstaff Detected; or, the Astrological Impostor Convicted. By John Partridge." This was the joint production of three wits, the Reverend Thomas Yalden, Nicholas Rowe, and William Congreve. In the person of Partridge they carried on the fun excellently well, repudiating Bickerstaff, and complaining bitterly of the many inconveniences his pamphlet had caused him. He cannot leave his house without being dunned for his own funeral expenses.

Partridge himself was at last "drawn," and his almanack for 1709 contains an indignant protest against the sham astrologer Bickerstaff, and a solemn assertion that he, John Partridge, was, blessed be God, alive and in good health.

The "Almanack for 1709" gave Swift the opportunity for a "Vindication." Animadverting on the indecency of the language of the "almanack for the present year," Bickerstaff appeals to the learned world to justify him. With regard to Partridge's assertion about his being still alive, he argues five excellent points in proof that he cannot be. Swift, in 1709, wound up the fun with "A Famous Prediction of Merlin," issued as a broadsheet with a pretended prophecy in black letter.

Scott, in his edition, reprints "An Answer to Bickerstaff. By a Person of Quality," but I cannot trace the authorship of it. Neither Forster nor Craik makes any reference to it. Whoever the writer was, he was keenly alive to the fun of the thing. It is certainly not by Swift. [T. S.]