"T"

IS not unamufing to confider the feveral apologies that people make when they commence authors. It is taken for granted that, on every publication, there is at least a feeming violation of modelty; a prefumption on the writer's fide, that he is able to inftru&t or to entertain the world; which implies a fuppofition that he can communicate what they cannot draw from their own reflections.

To remove any prejudice this might occasion, has been the general intent of prefaces. Some we find extremely folicitous to claim acquaintance with their reader; addreffing him by the most tender and endearing appellations. He is in general styled the most loving, candid, and courteous creature, that ever breathed; with a view, doubtless, that he will deferve the compliment; and that his favour may be fecured at the expence of his better judgment. Mean and idle expectation! The accidental elopements and adventures of a compofition; the danger of an imperfect and furreptitious publication; the preffing and indiscreet inftances of friends; the pious and well-meant frauds of acquaintance; with the irrefiftible commands of perfons in bigh life; have been

excufes often fubftituted in place of the real motives, vanity and hunger.

The most allowable reafons for appearing thus in public are, either the advantage or amusement of our fellowcreatures, or our own private emolument and reputation.

A man poffeffed of intellectual talents would be more blameable in confining them to his own private use, than the mean-spirited mifer, that did the fame by his money. The latter is indeed obliged to bid, adieu to what he communicates; the former enjoys his treasures, even while he renders others the better for them. A compofition that

enters the world with a view of improving or amufing it, (I mean only, amufing it in a polite or innocent way) has a claim to our utmost indulgence, even though it fail of the effect intended.

When a writer's private intereft appears the motive of his publication, the reader has a larger fcope for acculation, if he be a fufferer. Whoever pays for thoughts, which this kind of writers may be faid to vend, has room enough to complain, if he be difappointed of his bar gain. He has no revenge, but ridicule; and, contrary to the practice in other cafes, to make the worst of a bad bargain.

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When

When the love of fame acts upon a man of genius, the cafe appears to ftand thus. The generality of the world, diftinguifhed by the name of readers, obferve with a reluctance not unnatural, a perfon raifing himfelf above them. All men have fome defire of fame, and fame is grounded on comparison. Every one then is fomewhat inclined to difpute his title to a fuperiority; and to difallow his pretenfions upon the discovery of a flaw. Indeed, a fine writer, like a luminous body, may be beneficial to the perfon he enlightens; but it is plain, he renders the capacity of the other more difcernible. Examination, however, is a fort of turnpike in the way to fame, where, though a writer be a while detained, and part with a trifle from his pocket, he finds in return a more commodious and eafy road to the temple.

When, therefore, a man is confcious of ability to ferve his country, or believes himself poffeffed of it, (for there is no

previous teft on this occafion, he has no room to hesitate, or need to make apology. When felf-intereft inclines a man to print, he fhould confider that the purchafer expects a penny-worth for his penny; and has reafon to afperfe his honesty if he finds himself deceived. Alfo, that it is poffible to publish a book of no value, which is too frequently the product of fuch mercenary people. When fame is the principal object of our devotion, it should be confidered whether our character is like to gain in point of wit, what it will probably lofe in point of modefty: otherwife, we shall be cenfured of vanity more than famed for genius; and deprefs our character while we ftrive to raise it.

After all, there is a propenfity in fome to communicate their thoughts without any view at all: the more fanguine of thefe employ the prefs; the lefs lively are contented with being impertinent la converfation.

Says the Citizen- I am told continually of taste, refinement, and po• liteness; but methinks the vulgar and ⚫ illiterate generally approve the fame productions with the connoiffeurs. • One rarely finds a landskip, a building, or a play, that has charms for the critic exclufive of the mechanic. But, on the other hand, one readily • remarks ftudents who labour to be dull, depraving their native relifh by the very means they use to refine it. The vulgar may not indeed be capable of giving the reafons why a compolition pleafes them; that mechanical dife tinction they leave to the connoiffeur: but they are at all times, methinks, judges of the beauty of an effect, a part of knowledge in most respects allowedly more genteel than that of ⚫ the operator."

Says the Courtier I cannot answer for every individual inftance: but I * think, moderately speaking, the vulgar are generally in the wrong. If they happen to be otherwife, it is

' principally owing to their implicit reJiance on the fkill of their fuperiors: and this has fometimes been ftrangely • effectual in making them imagine they relifh perfection. In fhort, if ever they judge well, it is at the time they leaft prefume to frame opinions for themselves.

It is true they will pretend to taste an object which they know their bet-> 'ters do. But then they confider some perfon's judgment as a certain ftandard or rule; they find the object exactly tally; and this demonftrated ap pearance of beauty affords them fome fmall degree of fatisfaction.

It is the fame with regard to the appetite, from which the metaphor of tatte is borrowed. "Such a foup or "olio," fay they," is much in vogue; "and if you do not like it, you must "learn to like it."

But in poetry, for inftance, it is urged that the vulgar difcover the ⚫ fame beauties with the man of read. ⚫ing.

Now half or more of the beauties of poetry depend on metaphor or al lufion, neither of which, by a mind uncultivated,