WERE we to eftimate the learning of the English by the number of books that are every day published among them, perhaps no country, not even China itself, could equal them in this particular. I have reckoned not lefs than twenty-three new books published in one day; which upon computation, makes eight thousand three hundred and ninety-five in one year. Most of these are not confined to one fingle fcience, but embrace the whole circle. Hiftory, politics, poetry, mathematics, metaphyfics, and the philofophy of Nature are all comprized in a manual not larger than that in which our children are taught the letters. If then we fuppofe the learned of England to read but an eighth part of the works which daily come from the prefs (and furely none can pretend to learning upon lefs eafy terms) at this rate every scholar will read a thousand books in one year. From fuch a calculation you may conjecture what an amazing fund of literature a man must be poffeffed of, who thus reads thrée new books every day, not one of which but contains all the good things that ever were faid or written. And yet I know not how it happens, but the English are not in reality fo learned as would feem from this calculation. We meet but few who know all arts and fciences to perfection; whether it is that the generality are incapable of fuch extenfive knowledge, or that the authors of thofe books are not adequate inftructors. In China the emperor himfelf takes cognifance of all the doctors in the kingdom kingdom who profefs authorship. In England every man may be an author that can write; for they have by law a liberty not only of faying what they please, but of being alfo as dull as they please. Yesterday I teftified my furprize to the man in black, where writers could be found in fufficient number to throw off the books I daily faw crowding from the prefs. I at first imagined that their learned feminaries might take this method of inftructing the world. But to obviate this objection, my companion affured me, that the doctors of colleges never wrote, and that fome of them had actually forgot their reading; but if you defire, continued he, to fee a collection of authors, I fancy I can introduce you this evening to a club, which affembles every Saturday at feven, at the fign of the Broom near Iflington, to talk over the bufinefs of the laft, and the entertainment of the week enfuing. I accepted his invitation, we walked together, and entered the houfe fome time before the ufual hour for the company affembling. My friend took this opportunity of letting me into the characters of the principal members of the club, not even the hoft excepted; who, it feems, was once an author himfelf, but preferred by a bookfeller to this fituation as a reward for his former fervices. The first perfon, faid he, of our fociety, is doctor Non-entity, a metaphyfician. Moft people think him a profound fcholar; but as he feldom fpeaks, I cannot be pofitive in that particular: he generally fpreads himself before the fire, fucks his pipe, talks little, drinks much, and is reckoned very good company. I'in told he writes indexes to perfection, he makes effays on the origin of evil, philofophical enquiries upon any fubject, and draws up an answer to any book upon twenty-four hours warning. You may diftinguifh him from the reft of of the company by his long grey wig, and the blue handkerchief round his neck. The next to him in merit and efteem is Tim Syllabub, a droll creature; he fometimes fhines as a ftar of the firft magnitude among the choice fpirits of the age: he is reckoned equally excellent at a rebus, a riddle, a bawdy fong, and an hymn for the tabernacle. You will know him by his fhabby finery, his powdered wig, dirty fhirt, and broken filk-ftockings. After him fucceeds Mr. Tibs, a very useful band; he writes receipts for the bite of a mad dog, and throws off an eaftern tale to perfection; he underftands the business of an author as well as any man, for no bookfeller alive can cheat him. You may diftinguish him by the peculiar clumfinefs of his figure, and the coarfenefs of his coat: however, though it be coarfe, (as he frequently tells the company) he has paid for it. Lawyer Squint is the politician of the fociety; he makes fpeeches for parliament, writes addreffes to his fellow-fubjects, and letters to noble commanders; he gives the hiftory of every new play, and finds feajonable thoughts upon every occafion. My companion was proceeding in his defcription, when the hoft came running-in with terror on his countenance to tell us, that the door was befet with. bailiffs. If that be the cafe then, fays my companion, we had as good be going; for I am pofitive we fhall not fee one of the company this night. Wherefore difappointed we were both obliged to return home, he to enjoy the oddities which compofe his character alone, and I to write as ufual to my friend the occurrences of the day. Adieu. LETTER BY my laft advices from Mofcow, I find the caravan has not yet departed from China: I ftill continue to write, expecting that you may receive a large number of my letters at once. In them you will find rather a minute detail of English peculiarities, than a general picture of their manners or difpofition. Happy it were for mankind if all travellers would thus, inftead of characterising a people in general terms, lead us into a detail of thofe minute circumstances which first influenced their opinion the genius of a country fhould be investigated with a kind of experimental enquiry; by this means we fhould have more precife and juft notions of foreign nations, and detect travellers themselves when they happened to form wrong conclufions. My friend and I repeated our visit to the club of authors; where, upon our entrance, we found the members all affembled and engaged in a loud debate. The poet, in fhabby finery, holding a manufcript in his hand, was earneftly endeavouring to perfuade the company to hear him read the firft book of an heroic poem, which he had composed the day before. But against this all the members very warmly objected. They knew no reason why any member of the club fhould be indulged with a particular hearing, when many of them had publifhed whole volumes which had never been looked-in. They infifted that the law fhould be obferved, where reading in company was expreffly noticed. It was in vain that the poet pleaded the peculiar merit of of his piece; he spoke to an affembly infenfible to all his remonftrances; the book of laws was opened, and read by the fecretary, where it was expreffly enacted, "That whatfoever poet, fpeech-maker, "critic, or hiftorian fhould prefume to engage "the company by reading his own works, he was "to lay down fix-pence previous to opening the "manufcript, and fhould be charged one fhilling an hour while he continued reading; the faid fhilling to be equally diftributed among the company as a recompence for their trouble." 66 Our poet feemed at firft to fhrink at the penalty, hefitating for fome time whether he should depofit the fine, or fhut up the poem; but looking round, and perceiving two ftrangers in the room, his love of fame outweighed his prudence, and laying down the fum by law established, he infifted on his prerogative. A profound filence enfuing, he began by explaining his defign. "Gentlemen," fays he, "the pre"fent piece is not one of your common epic poems, "which come from the prefs like paper-kites in "fummer; there are none of your Turnus's or "Dido's in it; it is an heroical defcription of Na"ture. I only beg you'll endeavour to make your "fouls unifon with mine, and hear with the fame "enthusiasm with which I have written. The poem 66 begins with the defcription of an author's bed"chamber: the picture was fketched in my own apartment; for you muft know, gentlemen, that "I am myself the hero." Then putting himself into the attitude of an orator, with all the emphafis of voice and action, he proceeded: "Where the Red Lion flaring o'er the way, "Where Calvert's butt, and Parfon's black champagne, "Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane; "The Mufe found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug, |