Chapter i.

An Invocation.

Come, bright love of fame, inspire my glowing breast: not thee I will

call, who, over swelling tides of blood and tears, dost bear the heroe

on to glory, while sighs of millions waft his spreading sails; but

thee, fair, gentle maid, whom Mnesis, happy nymph, first on the banks

of Hebrus did produce. Thee, whom Maeonia educated, whom Mantua

charmed, and who, on that fair hill which overlooks the proud

metropolis of Britain, sat'st, with thy Milton, sweetly tuning the

heroic lyre; fill my ravished fancy with the hopes of charming ages

yet to come. Foretel me that some tender maid, whose grandmother is

yet unborn, hereafter, when, under the fictitious name of Sophia, she

reads the real worth which once existed in my Charlotte, shall from

her sympathetic breast send forth the heaving sigh. Do thou teach me

not only to foresee, but to enjoy, nay, even to feed on future praise.

Comfort me by a solemn assurance, that when the little parlour in

which I sit at this instant shall be reduced to a worse furnished box,

I shall be read with honour by those who never knew nor saw me, and

whom I shall neither know nor see.

And thou, much plumper dame, whom no airy forms nor phantoms of

imagination cloathe; whom the well-seasoned beef, and pudding richly

stained with plums, delight: thee I call: of whom in a treckschuyte,

in some Dutch canal, the fat ufrow gelt, impregnated by a jolly

merchant of Amsterdam, was delivered: in Grub-street school didst thou

suck in the elements of thy erudition. Here hast thou, in thy maturer

age, taught poetry to tickle not the fancy, but the pride of the

patron. Comedy from thee learns a grave and solemn air; while tragedy

storms aloud, and rends th' affrighted theatres with its thunders. To

soothe thy wearied limbs in slumber, Alderman History tells his

tedious tale; and, again, to awaken thee, Monsieur Romance performs

his surprizing tricks of dexterity. Nor less thy well-fed bookseller

obeys thy influence. By thy advice the heavy, unread, folio lump,

which long had dozed on the dusty shelf, piecemealed into numbers,

runs nimbly through the nation. Instructed by thee, some books, like

quacks, impose on the world by promising wonders; while others turn

beaus, and trust all their merits to a gilded outside. Come, thou

jolly substance, with thy shining face, keep back thy inspiration, but

hold forth thy tempting rewards; thy shining, chinking heap; thy

quickly convertible bank-bill, big with unseen riches; thy

often-varying stock; the warm, the comfortable house; and, lastly, a

fair portion of that bounteous mother, whose flowing breasts yield

redundant sustenance for all her numerous offspring, did not some too

greedily and wantonly drive their brethren from the teat. Come thou,

and if I am too tasteless of thy valuable treasures, warm my heart

with the transporting thought of conveying them to others. Tell me,

that through thy bounty, the pratling babes, whose innocent play hath

often been interrupted by my labours, may one time be amply rewarded

for them.

And now, this ill-yoked pair, this lean shadow and this fat substance,

have prompted me to write, whose assistance shall I invoke to direct

my pen?

First, Genius; thou gift of Heaven; without whose aid in vain we

struggle against the stream of nature. Thou who dost sow the generous

seeds which art nourishes, and brings to perfection. Do thou kindly

take me by the hand, and lead me through all the mazes, the winding

labyrinths of nature. Initiate me into all those mysteries which

profane eyes never beheld. Teach me, which to thee is no difficult

task, to know mankind better than they know themselves. Remove that

mist which dims the intellects of mortals, and causes them to adore

men for their art, or to detest them for their cunning, in deceiving

others, when they are, in reality, the objects only of ridicule, for

deceiving themselves. Strip off the thin disguise of wisdom from

self-conceit, of plenty from avarice, and of glory from ambition.

Come, thou that hast inspired thy Aristophanes, thy Lucian, thy

Cervantes, thy Rabelais, thy Molière, thy Shakespear, thy Swift, thy

Marivaux, fill my pages with humour; till mankind learn the

good-nature to laugh only at the follies of others, and the humility

to grieve at their own.

And thou, almost the constant attendant on true genius, Humanity,

bring all thy tender sensations. If thou hast already disposed of them

all between thy Allen and thy Lyttleton, steal them a little while

from their bosoms. Not without these the tender scene is painted. From

these alone proceed the noble, disinterested friendship, the melting

love, the generous sentiment, the ardent gratitude, the soft

compassion, the candid opinion; and all those strong energies of a

good mind, which fill the moistened eyes with tears, the glowing

cheeks with blood, and swell the heart with tides of grief, joy, and

benevolence.

And thou, O Learning! (for without thy assistance nothing pure,

nothing correct, can genius produce) do thou guide my pen. Thee in thy

favourite fields, where the limpid, gently-rolling Thames washes thy

Etonian banks, in early youth I have worshipped. To thee, at thy

birchen altar, with true Spartan devotion, I have sacrificed my blood.

Come then, and from thy vast, luxuriant stores, in long antiquity

piled up, pour forth the rich profusion. Open thy Maeonian and thy

Mantuan coffers, with whatever else includes thy philosophic, thy

poetic, and thy historical treasures, whether with Greek or Roman

characters thou hast chosen to inscribe the ponderous chests: give me

a while that key to all thy treasures, which to thy Warburton thou

hast entrusted.

Lastly, come Experience, long conversant with the wise, the good, the

learned, and the polite. Nor with them only, but with every kind of

character, from the minister at his levee, to the bailiff in his

spunging-house; from the dutchess at her drum, to the landlady behind

her bar. From thee only can the manners of mankind be known; to which

the recluse pedant, however great his parts or extensive his learning

may be, hath ever been a stranger.

Come all these, and more, if possible; for arduous is the task I have

undertaken; and, without all your assistance, will, I find, be too

heavy for me to support. But if you all smile on my labours I hope

still to bring them to a happy conclusion.