Chapter i.
Of those who lawfully may, and of those who may not, write suchhistories as this.
Among other good uses for which I have thought proper to institutethese several introductory chapters, I have considered them as a kindof mark or stamp, which may hereafter enable a very indifferent readerto distinguish what is true and genuine in this historic kind ofwriting, from what is false and counterfeit. Indeed, it seems likelythat some such mark may shortly become necessary, since the favourablereception which two or three authors have lately procured for theirworks of this nature from the public, will probably serve as anencouragement to many others to undertake the like. Thus a swarm offoolish novels and monstrous romances will be produced, either to thegreat impoverishing of booksellers, or to the great loss of time anddepravation of morals in the reader; nay, often to the spreading ofscandal and calumny, and to the prejudice of the characters of manyworthy and honest people.
I question not but the ingenious author of the Spectator wasprincipally induced to prefix Greek and Latin mottos to every paper,from the same consideration of guarding against the pursuit of thosescribblers, who having no talents of a writer but what is taught bythe writing-master, are yet nowise afraid nor ashamed to assume thesame titles with the greatest genius, than their good brother in thefable was of braying in the lion's skin.
By the device therefore of his motto, it became impracticable for anyman to presume to imitate the Spectators, without understanding atleast one sentence in the learned languages. In the same manner I havenow secured myself from the imitation of those who are utterlyincapable of any degree of reflection, and whose learning is not equalto an essay.
I would not be here understood to insinuate, that the greatest meritof such historical productions can ever lie in these introductorychapters; but, in fact, those parts which contain mere narrative only,afford much more encouragement to the pen of an imitator, than thosewhich are composed of observation and reflection. Here I mean suchimitators as Rowe was of Shakespear, or as Horace hints some of theRomans were of Cato, by bare feet and sour faces.
To invent good stories, and to tell them well, are possibly very raretalents, and yet I have observed few persons who have scrupled to aimat both: and if we examine the romances and novels with which theworld abounds, I think we may fairly conclude, that most of theauthors would not have attempted to show their teeth (if theexpression may be allowed me) in any other way of writing; nor couldindeed have strung together a dozen sentences on any other subjectwhatever.
_Scribimus indocti doctique passim_,[*]
[*] --Each desperate blockhead dares to write: Verse is the trade of every living wight.--FRANCIS.
may be more truly said of the historian and biographer, than of anyother species of writing; for all the arts and sciences (evencriticism itself) require some little degree of learning andknowledge. Poetry, indeed, may perhaps be thought an exception; butthen it demands numbers, or something like numbers: whereas, to thecomposition of novels and romances, nothing is necessary but paper,pens, and ink, with the manual capacity of using them. This, Iconceive, their productions show to be the opinion of the authorsthemselves: and this must be the opinion of their readers, if indeedthere be any such.
Hence we are to derive that universal contempt which the world, whoalways denominate the whole from the majority, have cast on allhistorical writers who do not draw their materials from records. Andit is the apprehension of this contempt that hath made us socautiously avoid the term romance, a name with which we mightotherwise have been well enough contented. Though, as we have goodauthority for all our characters, no less indeed than the vastauthentic doomsday-book of nature, as is elsewhere hinted, our labourshave sufficient title to the name of history. Certainly they deservesome distinction from those works, which one of the wittiest of menregarded only as proceeding from a _pruritus_, or indeed rather from alooseness of the brain.
But besides the dishonour which is thus cast on one of the most usefulas well as entertaining of all kinds of writing, there is just reasonto apprehend, that by encouraging such authors we shall propagate muchdishonour of another kind; I mean to the characters of many good andvaluable members of society; for the dullest writers, no more than thedullest companions, are always inoffensive. They have both enough oflanguage to be indecent and abusive. And surely if the opinion justabove cited be true, we cannot wonder that works so nastily derivedshould be nasty themselves, or have a tendency to make others so.
To prevent therefore, for the future, such intemperate abuses ofleisure, of letters, and of the liberty of the press, especially asthe world seems at present to be more than usually threatened withthem, I shall here venture to mention some qualifications, every oneof which are in a pretty high degree necessary to this order ofhistorians.
The first is, genius, without a full vein of which no study, saysHorace, can avail us. By genius I would understand that power orrather those powers of the mind, which are capable of penetrating intoall things within our reach and knowledge, and of distinguishing theiressential differences. These are no other than invention and judgment;and they are both called by the collective name of genius, as they areof those gifts of nature which we bring with us into the world.Concerning each of which many seem to have fallen into very greaterrors; for by invention, I believe, is generally understood acreative faculty, which would indeed prove most romance writers tohave the highest pretensions to it; whereas by invention is reallymeant no more (and so the word signifies) than discovery, or findingout; or to explain it at large, a quick and sagacious penetration intothe true essence of all the objects of our contemplation. This, Ithink, can rarely exist without the concomitancy of judgment; for howwe can be said to have discovered the true essence of two things,without discerning their difference, seems to me hard to conceive. Nowthis last is the undisputed province of judgment, and yet some few menof wit have agreed with all the dull fellows in the world inrepresenting these two to have been seldom or never the property ofone and the same person.
But though they should be so, they are not sufficient for our purpose,without a good share of learning; for which I could again cite theauthority of Horace, and of many others, if any was necessary to provethat tools are of no service to a workman, when they are not sharpenedby art, or when he wants rules to direct him in his work, or hath nomatter to work upon. All these uses are supplied by learning; fornature can only furnish us with capacity; or, as I have chose toillustrate it, with the tools of our profession; learning must fitthem for use, must direct them in it, and, lastly, must contributepart at least of the materials. A competent knowledge of history andof the belles-lettres is here absolutely necessary; and without thisshare of knowledge at least, to affect the character of an historian,is as vain as to endeavour at building a house without timber ormortar, or brick or stone. Homer and Milton, who, though they addedthe ornament of numbers to their works, were both historians of ourorder, were masters of all the learning of their times.
Again, there is another sort of knowledge, beyond the power oflearning to bestow, and this is to be had by conversation. Sonecessary is this to the understanding the characters of men, thatnone are more ignorant of them than those learned pedants whose liveshave been entirely consumed in colleges, and among books; for howeverexquisitely human nature may have been described by writers, the truepractical system can be learnt only in the world. Indeed the likehappens in every other kind of knowledge. Neither physic nor law areto be practically known from books. Nay, the farmer, the planter, thegardener, must perfect by experience what he hath acquired therudiments of by reading. How accurately soever the ingenious Mr Millermay have described the plant, he himself would advise his disciple tosee it in the garden. As we must perceive, that after the niceststrokes of a Shakespear or a Jonson, of a Wycherly or an Otway, sometouches of nature will escape the reader, which the judicious actionof a Garrick, of a Cibber, or a Clive,[*] can convey to him; so, on thereal stage, the character shows himse
lf in a stronger and bolder lightthan he can be described. And if this be the case in those fine andnervous descriptions which great authors themselves have taken fromlife, how much more strongly will it hold when the writer himselftakes his lines not from nature, but from books? Such characters areonly the faint copy of a copy, and can have neither the justness norspirit of an original.
[*] There is a peculiar propriety in mentioning this great actor, and these two most justly celebrated actresses, in this place, as they have all formed themselves on the study of nature only, and not on the imitation of their predecessors. Hence they have been able to excel all who have gone before them; a degree of merit which the servile herd of imitators can never possibly arrive at.
Now this conversation in our historian must be universal, that is,with all ranks and degrees of men; for the knowledge of what is calledhigh life will not instruct him in low; nor, _e converso_, will hisbeing acquainted with the inferior part of mankind teach him themanners of the superior. And though it may be thought that theknowledge of either may sufficiently enable him to describe at leastthat in which he hath been conversant, yet he will even here fallgreatly short of perfection; for the follies of either rank do inreality illustrate each other. For instance, the affectation of highlife appears more glaring and ridiculous from the simplicity of thelow; and again, the rudeness and barbarity of this latter, strikeswith much stronger ideas of absurdity, when contrasted with, andopposed to, the politeness which controuls the former. Besides, to saythe truth, the manners of our historian will be improved by both theseconversations; for in the one he will easily find examples ofplainness, honesty, and sincerity; in the other of refinement,elegance, and a liberality of spirit; which last quality I myself havescarce ever seen in men of low birth and education.
Nor will all the qualities I have hitherto given my historian availhim, unless he have what is generally meant by a good heart, and becapable of feeling. The author who will make me weep, says Horace,must first weep himself. In reality, no man can paint a distress wellwhich he doth not feel while he is painting it; nor do I doubt, butthat the most pathetic and affecting scenes have been writ with tears.In the same manner it is with the ridiculous. I am convinced I nevermake my reader laugh heartily but where I have laughed before him;unless it should happen at any time, that instead of laughing with mehe should be inclined to laugh at me. Perhaps this may have been thecase at some passages in this chapter, from which apprehension I willhere put an end to it.