cult to restrain the feelings of an author; and have been ready to give vent to my indignation, when I have seen my labours degraded to the most menial employments, and insultingly placed under a pound of butter, or wrapped round the handle of a teakettle. At other times I have been sinking with shame, and confounded with gratitude, when I have chanced to meet with gentlemen, who have been so good as to clear me of all my faults, by kindly taking them on themselves; and candidly confessing, that they did send me this or that paper, and did give me permission to publish it, without acknowledging my obligations. To these gentlemen I am proud of an opportunity to return my thanks for the honour they confer on me, and to assure them that all my papers are very much at their service; provided only, that they will be so kind as just to send me previous notice which they may think fit to own; that my bookseller may have proper directions, if called upon, to confirm their respective claims; and for the prevention of any error, which might otherwise arise, should two persons unfortunately make the same choice. In the course of the discoveries which have been confidentially imparted to me, I have been not a little amused by the variety of positive proofs on which each has grounded his knowledge of the author. So confident indeed have been some assertions, that I have been much staggered in my belief, and almost inclined to doubt my own identity. About three weeks ago I was very seriously alarmed, by intelligence which I received of an illness under which I then laboured. My informer was certain of his fact, but enjoined me not to mention it again; he had, it seems, been let into the secret by a friend of his, who had been told of it by an acquaintance of his, who had had it from a near relation of his, who had been informed of it by an intimate of her's, who had heard it from the best authority. Here, indeed, was the clearest conviction, and proofs, which amounted to a certainty; and I really began to be very uneasy about the consequences of my indisposition, when I was happily relieved from my anxiety by another friend of mine, who, with like injunctions of secrecy, and equal positiveness of assertion, assured me that I was then very well, and had been seen in a commoner's gown at one of the Universities. But nothing has diverted me more than the various strictures passed on me by such as have wished either to correct me by counsel, or damp me by discouragement. In these I have been frequently amused by a fair arrangement of contradictory criticisms, and objections which obviate each other. Awkward imitation-and affected originality; the ostentation of reading, and the want of it, have been carped at with equal severity. Some have objected to the price two-pence,' and others to the præcox ingenium.' Some are offended by the arrogance of unnecessary egotism; and others sneer at the unimportance of anonymous obscurity. As specimens of these opposite censures, I shall subjoin a few short letters, by which various wellmeaning persons have, at different times, kindly attempted my reformation. 'SIR, 'From the promising exordium of your elegant work, I own I expected to find much better amusement, and, let me add, instruction, than humorous caricaturas of the foibles and follies of your fellowcitizens; let me hope, Sir, you will no longer proceed on this plan, but will rise to subjects more worthy your genius and abilities. I am, Sir, yours, AMICUS. 'MR. GRIFFIN, 'I thought you promised, in the beginning of your work, that you would confine it to your fellowcitizens; this you have not done. You will, perhaps, answer, that you have at least chosen such subjects as would instruct and improve them. But that is not what I mean. In short, Sir, are we to have any satire, or are we not? Yours, 'Eton, Feb. 19, 1787.' SIR, A FELLOW-CITIZEN. 'I am extremely pleased with the whole of your admirable work. It is a praiseworthy attempt, and, if it succeeds, which I cannot doubt, will reflect great honour on the place of our education. I hope you will continue to intersperse it throughout with poetical pieces; I received much pleasure from those which I have already perused, and am certain every one who views your work through a medium of candour must do the same. I am, Sir, your admirer, 'MR. GREGORY, I like your work very well, upon the whole; very well indeed-but pray beware of poetry--stick to prose and you may succeed-but poetry, Sir, will never do. Another thing, Mr. G. I would advise you; to imitate Mr. Addison more,-you never can copy too closely so great an original. Take my advice, Sir, and believe me, your well wisher, CRITICUS.' I write merely to warn you, Sir, that imitation, carried too far, becomes plagiarism. An Addison, Sir, may be imitated too far. I hate e'en Garrick thus at second hand. Yours, 'MY DEAR SIR, CENSOR.' I am particularly pleased with your equitable treatment of correspondents, in paying so strict an attention to their communications, and yet not making that a plea for inactivity, or a remission of your weekly labours. That you may long continue to enjoy the reputation you so justly merit, is the sincere wish of, Sir, your admirer, 'London, March 1, 1787. E. P.' As long as you gave one number a week, Mr. Griffin, it was very well, and I took two of each,but now you give two every week; and though you pretend to do it out of justice to correspondents, let me tell you, Sir, it has a very mercenary appearance, and so long as this continues, I shall only take one of each, so you'll get nothing by it. From your humble servant, 'SIR, ANAS! In a literary performance by a juvenile author, I feared to find intermixed much of the common trash of periodical papers; stories of love adventures' founded on facts,' luckless pairs, happy marriages, and jumbles of jealousy and sentimental affection;-I am, Sir, happily disappointed,—and hope you will continue, without any mixture of stuff about love, which young men ought to know nothing of, thus to amuse, your constant reader, 'MR. GRIFFIN, SIR, GERTRUDE GRUM.' 'This comes to let you know, that though I can't write nor read, our Peter writes this for me, and I hear all your papers read in our kitchen. I don't understand none of them, not I; but I see there's nothing at all about love, or about maid-servants making their fortunes by marriage. O! Mr. Griffin, if you be he, they says you be, you know the person that I love best. He is to be sure the prettiest behaved, sweetest young gentleman, and his name begins with a-no, but I wont tell you what his name begins with neither, but could not you just give him a hint about his loving humble servant as he calls me, MARITORNES.' 'P.S. Peter can read, and write, and cipher too.' I have taken some liberties with my last correspondent, in adjusting the orthography of her letter, so as to adapt it to common comprehension; if there is any other alteration, she must look for its cause in the P.S. where Peter (totally, I believe, with a view to his own aggrandizement, and without the privity and consent of his fair employer) declares his skill in ciphering, which he has practised with such success as to render the deciphering a matter of no small difficulty. I shall not add any comment to the preceding letters, but leave them, like the gravitation and centrifugal force, which philosophers talk of, to counteract each other's tendency; and conclude my paper, as I began it, with a tale; which though perhaps it may be very old, enjoys a double advantage, which tales seldom do, of being extremely short, ánd extremely apropos. A painter of great skill and eminence, who wished to have his work as free from blemishes, and as correctly beautiful as a picture could be made, hung it up one morning in the public market-place, with a request that every one would take the trouble to mark what he thought the faulty part of the performance. Coming in the evening to carry home |