were not afraid of displaying the faults which their correspondents pointed out; a circumstance which (with the wise and discerning) must have contributed not a little to advance their reputation. But it is not faults, Sir, upon which I would descant; I declare to you at present I have not perceived any which are material; and I am not one of those cavilling critics who are eager to

Catch the straws which swim at top,

And leave the pearls behind.

My present intention is merely to take the li berty of pointing out to you a subject which I should be happy to see discussed in one of your papers; a subject which I think as likely to be beneficial to your contemporaries in their future progress through life, as most which could be proposed. It is, Sir, to point out to them, the very essential difference which subsists between true and false greatness.

'There are some of them whose unhappy propensity to indolence and futility you have humorously described; but there are doubtless others, who have a laudable ambition to distinguish themselves, and who (to make them valuable as well as conspicuous members of society) want only some friendly hand to point out the proper goal to which their race should be directed.

"Of all the powers of the human mind, the judgment seems to be that which arrives the latest at perfection: the reason is obvious; to compare and decide, requires a degree of calmness and perspicuity, almost incompatible with the fire and enthusiasm of youth.

• Without some assistance, therefore, my good Sir, how are they likely to discriminate between what is really, or only apparently great; will not the glare of the one be preferred to the steady brightness of the other? will not partial excellence delude their

imagination? and when the admirable and the estimable come in competition, will they not be apt to seize the former with eagerness, and reject the latter with contempt?

The cold cautions of age and experience delivered upon these occasions, are generally derided, or at best heard with indifference; but this cannot be the case, Sir, when they come from you. Your fellow-citizens will surely listen with attention to one, who has reflected so much honour upon their society; and will receive with confidence the precepts of one, who convinces them by his conduct that he not only knows, but practises, what is truly meritorious.

'Hasten then, my good Sir, to instruct them in what real greatness consists. Should you succeed, the rising generation will have cause to bless you! the name of the MICROCOSMOPOLITAN will be mentioned with admiration and reverence to all futurity; and as for myself, I protest to you, my family crest shall be immediately erased, and a Griffin substituted in its room.

'As the poor wretch who is about to suffer the ast penalty of the law, points out to his fellow-creatures the errors which have caused his ruin, and at the same time pathetically warns them by his unhappy fate; so I, with like conviction of misconduct, am solicitous to represent to the world my own inadvertencies; and by my example to caution others against committing faults similar to those which have proved my ruin.

You must know, Mr. Griffin, that in my younger days I was exceedingly ambitious of being distin

guished as a jester. There was no other consideration with me in life but what I would willingly sacrifice to this. When at Eton, I was remarked for being much better acquainted with Joe Miller and Tom Brown, than any of the Greek or Roman classics. My profession was the law, but I could not endure its drudgery; and therefore, instead of sapping at the statutes at large in my chambers, or sporting Cicero at the bar, I employed my time in scribbling bon-mots for the newspapers, and frequenting the society of young fellows of wit and pleasure. The clubs, of which I was a member, declared me a phenomenon of wit. I was pleased with this distinction; and knowing that my company in general consisted of men who had little to boast of but their facetiousness, I frequently paid for them their tavern reckonings, that I might enjoy the liveliness of their conversation; and purchased my participation of their festivity, at a price little suitable to the contracted state of my finances.

I had once the happiness of possessing a very valuable friend. He was an exceedingly honest man, firmly attached to me, and capable, as well as willing, to do me many services; but unfortunately, he was not remarkable for any great quality of penetration; and besides this, he had a natural imperfection in his speech. Happening one day to be reckoning up with him a list of famous orators, and humorously putting his name among the number, he fell into a violent rage, insisted that I insulted him, and pulled me by the nose. I, pitying his want of sagacity in not discovering that all I intended was a joke, and at the same time reflecting that fighting was no part of the business of a man of wit, very calmly pocketed the affront, and left him. Thus terminated our intercourse of friendship.

Some years ago I paid my addresses to a young lady, celebrated for her great beauty, fortune, and

mental endowments. I had every reason to felicitate myself on the prospect of being happily united to her; till chancing one evening to cut a joke on the seventh commandment, in the presence of herself and father, I was immediately frowned at by the lady, rebuked by the old gentleman, and soon after forbid the presence of the one, and the dwelling of the other.

In the early part of my life, I was regarded by an old rich uncle of mine, who had a pretty young housekeeper, as his heir. But as my evil stars would have it, being once on a visit to him, and unthinkingly telling him a story of a ridiculous old dotard, and a brisk young damsel, he took the application to himself, called me an impertinent fellow, and discarded me.

6

Many other misfortunes, Mr. Griffin, have attended this unlucky disposition of mine. They have had indeed, at last, this good effect on me; they have brought me to my senses; and I begin to see, that had I possessed only wit enough to discover that I was a fool, I should have acted very differently in these cases, and have been now a happy man.

I am, Sir, yours, &c.

CHRISTOPHER CUTJOKE.'

For the insertion of the following letter I shall make no apology, but its own merit, and leave it to speak for itself.

TO GREGORY GRIFFIN, Esq.

DEAR SIR,

'As the professed intention of your admirable work, is to treat of the foibles and follies of mankind in general, and our little world in particular, I presume, that (however other pursuits may have induced you to depart from your original plan) the

you

following unfinished lines, on a subject which have not yet taken in hand, will not be totally unacceptable.

I shall omit troubling you with the hackneyed apology of "an unfledged muse," however apropos it may be to the present case. This however I may be allowed to say, that they were written carelessly and in a hurry; and may possibly stand in need of much correction and defalcation. If however on any future occasion they shall be deemed worthy of a place in your paper, it will be the highest honour that can be aspired to, by

Your constant reader and admirer,

IRONICULUS.'

ARS MENTIENDI;

OR,

THE ART OF LYING.

When sordid man by justice unrestrain'd
Rang'd the wild woods, and food by plunder gain'd;
Yet unenlighten'd by mild reason's ray
Coarse nature rul'd with undisputed sway.
But when some sage's great aspiring mind,
By bonds of mutual interest link'd mankind,
Then art restrain'd her sister's wide domain,
And claim'd with nature a divided reign.
Yet still distrustful of her own success,
She sought to please by wearing nature's dress.

So that great art, whose principles and use,
Employ the pen of my unworthy muse,
Though great itself, in these degenerate days
Is forced to shine with adscititious rays,
Nor ever can a lasting sceptre wield,
Unless in robes of purest truth conceal'd.

Hear then whoe'er the arduous task will try,
Who wish with sense, with skill, with taste, to lie;
Ye patriots, plotting ministers' disgrace,
Ye ministers, who feara loss of place;
Ye tradesmen, who with writs the fop entrap,
Ye fops, who strive those tradesmen to escape;