and the book-answerers of every month, when they have cut up some respectable name, most frequently reproaching each other with stupidity and dulness; resembling the wolves of the Russian forest, who prey upon venison, or horse-flesh, when they can get it; but in cases of necessity, lying in wait to devour each other. While they have new books to cut up, they make a hearty meal; but if this resource should unhappily fail, then it is that critics eat up critics, and compilers rob from compilations.

Confucius observes, that it is the duty of the learned to unite society more closely, and to persuade men to become citizens of the world; but the authors I refer to, are not only for disuniting society but kingdoms also: if the English are at war with France, the dunces of France think it their duty to be at war with those of England. Thus Freron, one of their first-rate scribblers, thinks properto characterise all the English writers in the gross Their 'whole merit, (says he) consists in exaggeration and often in extravagance: correct their pieces as you 'please, there still remains a leaven which corrupts 'the whole. They sometimes discover genius, but 'not the smallest share of taste: England is not a 'soil for the plants of genius to thrive in.' This is open enough, with not the least adulation in the picture; but hear what a Frenchman of acknowledged abilities says upon the same subject: 'I am at a loss 'to determine in what we excel the English, or where 'they excel us; when I compare the merits of both in any one species of literary composition, so many ' reputable and pleasing writers present themselves from either country, that my judgement rests in 'suspence: I am pleased with the disquisition, without finding the object of my enquiry.' But lest you should think the French alone are faulty in this respect, hear how an English journalist delivers his sentiments of them: We are amazed (says he)

F 2

'to

'to find so many works translated from the French, 'while we have such numbers neglected of our own. "In our opinion, notwithstanding their fame through'out the rest of Europe, the French are the most 'contemptible reasoners (we had almost said writers) 'that can be imagined. However, nevertheless, ex'cepting, &c.' Another English writer, Shaftsbury, if I remember, on the contrary says that the French authors are pleasing and judicious, more clear, more methodical, and entertaining, than those of his own country.

From these opposite pictures you perceive that the good authors of either country praise, and the bad revile each other; and yet, perhaps, you will be surprised that indifferent writers should thus be the most apt to censure, as they have the most to apprehend from recrimination: you may perhaps imagine, that such as are possessed of fame themselves should be most ready to declare their opinions, since what they say might pass for decision. But the truth happens to be, that the great are solicitous only of raising their own reputations, while the opposite class, alas! are solicitous of bringing every reputation down to a level with their own.

But let us acquit them of malice and envy; a critic is often guided by the same motives that direct his author. The author endeavours to per suade us, that he has written a good book; the critic is equally solicitous to shew that he could write a better, had he thought proper. A critic is a being possessed of all the vanity, but not the genius of a scholar; incapable from his native weakness of lifting himself from the ground, he applies to contiguous merit for support; makes the sportive sallies of another's imagination his serious employment, pretends to take our feelings under his care, teaches where to condemn, where to lay the emphasis of praise; and may with as much justice be

called

called a man of taste, as the Chinese who measures his wisdom by the length of his nails.

If then a book spirited or humourous happens to appear in the republic of letters, several critics are in waiting to bid the publick not to laugh at a single line of it, for themselves had read it; and they know what is most proper to excite laughter. Other critics contradict the fulminations of this tribunal, call them all spiders, and assure the publick, that they ought to laugh without restraint. Another set are in the mean time quietly employed in writing notes to the book, intended to shew the particular passages to be laughed at; when these are out, others still there are who write notes upon notes: thus a single new book employs not only the papermakers, the printers, the pressmen, the book-binders, the hawkers, but twenty critics, and as many compilers. In short, the body of the learned may be compared to a Persian army, where there are many pioneers, several suttlers, numberless servants, women and children in abundance, and but few soldiers. Adieu.

LETTER XXI.

TO THE SAME.

THE English are as fond of seeing plays acted as the Chinese; but there is a vast difference in the manner of conducting them. We play our pieces in the open ait, the English theirs under cover; we act by day-light, they by the blaze of torches. One of our plays continues eight or ten days successively;

an

an English piece seldom takes up above four hours in the representation.

My companion in black, with whom I am now beginning to contract an intimacy, introduced me a few nights ago to the play-house, where we placed ourselves conveniently at the foot of the stage. As the curtain was not drawn before my arrival, I had an opportunity of observing the behaviour of the spectators, and indulging those reflections which novelty generally inspires.

The rich in general were placed in the lowest seats, and the poor rose above them in degrees proportioned to their poverty. The order of precedence seemed here inverted; those who were undermost all the day, now enjoyed a temporary eminence, and became masters of the ceremonies. It was they who called for the music, indulging every noisy freedom, and testifying all the insolence of beggary in exaltation.

They who held the middle region seemed not so riotous as those above them, nor yet so tame as those below; to judge by their looks, many of them seemed strangers there as well as myself: they were chiefly employed, during this period of expectation, in eating oranges, reading the story of the play, or making assignations.

Those who sat in the lowest rows, which are called the pit, seemed to consider themselves as judges of the merit of the poet and the performers; they were assembled partly to be amused, and partly to shew their taste, appearing to labour under that restraint which an affectation of superior discernment generally produces. My companion, however, informed me, that not one in an hundred of them knew even The first principles of criticism; that they assumed right of being censors because there was none to adict their pretensions; and that every man

who