כל دو his preface to his Mythology, a work of great erudition, and óf equal judgment. "It will be eafy," fays he, "for the Reader to observe, that I have frequently had greater regard to him, than » to my own reputation: for an author certainly " pays him à confiderable compliment, when, for his fake, he fuppreffes learned quotations that come in his way, and which would have coft him but the bare trouble of tranflating." " To fill up a work with thefe fcraps may indeed be confidered as a downright cheat on the learned world, who are by fuch means impofed upon to buy a second time in fragments and by retail what they have already in grofs, if not in their memories, upon their shelves; and it is ftill more cruel upon the illiterate, who are drawn in to pay for what is of no manner of use to them. A writer who intermixes great quantity of Greek and Latin with. his works, deals by the Ladies and fine Gentlemen in the fame paltry manner with which they are treated by the auctioneers, who often endeavour fo to confound and mix up their lots, that in order to purchase the commodity you want, you are obliged at the fame time to purchase that which will do you no fervice. And yet, as there is no conduct fo fair and difinterested, but that it may be misunderstood by ignorance, and mifrepresented by malice, I have been fometimes tempted to preserve my own reputation, at the expenfe of my Reader, and to transcribe the original, or at least to quote chapter and verfe, whenever I have made ufe either of the thought or expreffion of another. I am indeed in some doubt that I have often suffered by the contrary method; and that by fuppreffing the original author's name, I have been rather suspected of plagiarism, than reputed to act from the amiable motive above affigned by that juftly celebrated Frenchman. Now to obviate all fuch imputations for the future, I do here confefs and juftify the fact. The ancients may be confidered as a rich common, where every person who has the smallest tenement in Parnaffus, has a free right to fatten his Muse. Or, to place it in a clearer light, we moderns are to the ancients what the poor are to the rich. By the poor here I mean, that large and venerable body, which, in English, we call the mob. Now, whoever has had the honor to be admitted to any degree of intimacy with this mob, muft well know that it is one of their established maxims, to plunder and pillage their rich neighbours without any reluctance; and that this is held to be neither fin nor crime among them. And fo conftantly do they abide and act by this maxim, that in every parish almost in the kingdom, there is a kind of confederacy ever carrying on against a certain person of opulence called the Squire, whofe property is confidered as free booty by all his poor neighbours; who, as they conclude that there is no manner of guilt in fuch depredations, look upon it as a point of honor and moral obligation to conceal, and to preferve each other from punishment on all fuch occafions. In like manner are the ancients, fuch as Homer, Virgil, Horace, Cicero, and the reft, to be esteemed among us writers, as fo many wealthy Squires from whom we, the poor of Parnaffus, claim an immemorial cuftom of taking whatever we can come at. This liberty I demand, and this I am as ready to allow again to my poor neighbours in their turn. All I profess, and all I require from my brethren, is to maintain the fame ftrict honefty among ourselves, which the mob fhow to one another. To fteal from one another, is indeed highly criminal and indecent; for this may be strictly ftiled defrauding the poor (fometimes perhaps those who are poorer than ourselves) or to set it under the most opprobrious colors, robbing the fpittal. Since therefore, upon the ftricteft examination my own confcience cannot lay any fuch pitiful theft to my charge, I am contented to plead guilty to the former accufation; nor fhall I ever fcruple to take to myself any paffage. which I fhall find in an ancient author to my purpose, without setting down the name of the author from whence it was taken. Nay, I abfolutely claim a property in all fuch fentiments the moment they are transcribed into my writings, and I expect all Readers henceforwards to regard them as purely and entirely my own. This claim, however, I defire to be allowed me only on condition, that I preferve ftrict honefty towards my poor brethren, from whom if ever I borrow any of that little of which they are poffeffed, I fhall never fail to put their mark upon it, that it may be at all times ready to be restored to the right owner. The omiffion of this was highly blameable in one Mr. Moore, who, having formerly borrowed fome lines of Pope and Company, took the liberty to transcribe fix of them into his play of the Rival Modes. Mr. Pope however very luckily found them in the said play, and laying violent hands on his own property, transferred it back again into his own works; and for a further punishment, imprisoned the said Moore in the loathfome dungeon of the Dunciad, where his unhappy memory now remains, and eternally will remain, as a proper punishment for fuch his unjuft dealings in the poetical trade. CHA P. I I. In which, though the Squire does not find his daughter, fomething is found which puts an End to his Pursuit. THE History now returns to the inn at Upton, whence we shall first trace the footsteps of Squire Western; for as, he will foon arrive at the end of his journey, we shall have then full leifure to attend our Hero. The Reader may be pleased to remember, that the faid Squire departed from the inn in great fury, and in that fury he purfued his daughter. The hoftler having informed him that she had croffed the Severn, he likewise past that river with his equipage, and rode full speed, vowing the utmost vengeance against poor Sophia, if he fhould but overtake her. He had not gone far, before he arrived at a crossway. Here he called a fhort council of war, in which, after hearing different opinions, he at last gave the direction of his pursuit to fortune, and ftruck directly into the Worcester road. In this road he proceeded about two miles, when he began to bemoan himself most bitterly, frequently crying out, "What pity is it! Sure never was fo unlucky a dog as myself!" and then burst forth a volley of oaths and execrations. he, The Parfon attempted to administer comfort to him on this occafion. "Sorrow not, Sir," fays "like those without hope. Howbeit we have not yet been able to overtake young Madam we may account it fome good fortune, that we have hitherto traced her course aright. Peradventure she will foon be fatigated with her journey, and will tarry in some inn, in order to renovate her corporeal functions; and in that cafe, in all ,, moral certainty, you will very briefly be com " دو دو دو " ❞ pos voti. |