A Dissertation upon Parties. In nineteen let-j ters to Caleb Danvers, Esq.

The Occasional Writer. Numb. 1, 2, 3.
The Vision of Camilick.

In Dr. Matty's Life of Lord Chesterfield, he mentions that the earl had seen Lord Bolingbroke for several months labouring under a cruel, and to appearance incurable disorder. A cancerous hu

An Answer to the London Journal of Decem- mour in his face made a daily progress; and the

ber 21, 1728, by John Trot.

An Answer to the Defence of the Inquiry into he Reasons of the Conduct of Great Britain.

A final Answer to the Remarks on the Craftsman's Vindication.

empirical treatment he submitted to not only hastened his end, but also exposed him to the most excruciating pain. He saw him, for the last time, the day before his tortures began. Though the unhappy patient, as well as his friend, did then ex

All which books or tracts have been printed and pect that he should recover, and accordingly depublished; and I am also the author of

Four Letters on History, etc.

sired him not to come again till his cure was completed, yet he still took leave of him in a manner which have been privately printed, and not pub- which showed how much he was affected. He lished; but I have not assigned to any person or embraced the earl with tenderness, and said, "God, persons whatsoever the copy, or the liberty of print- who placed me here, will do what he pleases with ing or reprinting any of the said books, or tracts, me hereafter, and he knows best what to do. May or letters: Now I do hereby, as far as by law I he bless you."-And in a letter from Chesterfield can, give and assign to David Mallet, of Putney, to a lady of rank at Paris, he says, "I frequently in the county of Surrey, Esquire, the copy and see our friend Bolingbroke, but I see him with copies of all and each of the before mentioned books great concern. A humour he has long had in his or tracts, and letters, and the liberty of reprinting cheek proves to be cancerous, and has made an the same. I also give to the said David Mallet the alarming progress of late. Hitherto it is not atcopy and copies of all the manuscript books, papers, tended with pain, which is all he wishes, for as to and writings, which I have written or composed, the rest he is resigned. Truly a mind like his, so or shall write or compose, and leave at the time of far superior to the generality, would have well demy decease. And I further give to the said David served that nature should have made an effort in Mallet, all the books which, at the time of my de- his favour as to the body, and given him an uncease, shall be in the room called my library. common share of health and duration."

HENRY SAINT JOHN, BOLINGBroke.

All the rest and residue of my personal estate, The last scene is thus lamented, in a letter to whatsoever and wheresoever, I give to my said the same lady :-Are you not greatly shocked, but executors; and hereby revoking all former wills, II am sure you are, at the dreadful death of our declare this to be my last will and testament. In friend Bolingbroke? The remedy has hastened his witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and death, against which there was no remedy, for his seal the twenty-second day of November, in the cancer was not topical, but universal, and had so inyear of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and fected the whole mass of his blood,, as to be incurfifty-one. able. What I most lament is, that the medicines put him to exquisite pain; an evil I dread much more than death, both for my friends and myself. I lose a warm, an amiable, and instructive friend. I saw him a fortnight before his death, when he depended upon a cure, and so did I; and he desired I would not come any more till he was quite Proved at London, the fifth day of March, 1752 days. The next day the great pains came on, and well, which he expected would be in ten or twelve before the worshipful Robert Chapman, doctor of never left him till within two days of his death, laws and surrogate, by the oaths of William Chetwynd and Joseph Taylor, Esquires, the ex-what extensive knowledge! what a memory! what during which he lay insensible. What a man! ecutors named in the will, to whom administration was granted, being first sworn duly to administer.

Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said testator, as and for his last will and testament, in the presence of OLIVER PRICE.

THOMAS HALL.

eloquence! His passions, which were strong, were injurious to the delicacy of his sentiments; they were apt to be confounded together, and often wil. fully. The world will do him more justice now than in his lifetime."

THE BEE;

Select Collection of EssAPS

ON THE MOST INTERESTING AND ENTERTAINING SUBJECTS.

[FIRST PRINTED IN 1759.]

THE BEE, No. I.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1759.

INTRODUCTION.

I might have been left to mourn in solitude and silence in short, whichever way I turned, nothing presented but prospects of terror, despair, chandlers' shops, and waste paper.

In the debate between fear and ambition, my publisher, happening to arrive, interrupted for a while my anxiety. Perceiving my embarrassment THERE is not, perhaps, a more whimsically dis- about making my first appearance, he instantly of mal figure in nature, than a man of real modesty fered his assistance and advice. "You must who assumes an air of impudence; who, while his know, sir," says he, "that the republic of letters is heart beats with anxiety, studies ease, and affects at present divided into three classes. One writer good-humour. In this situation, however, a pe- for instance, excels at a plan or a title-page, another riodical writer often finds himself, upon his first works away the body of the book, and a third is a attempt to address the public in form. All his dab at an index. Thus a magazine is not the repower of pleasing is damped by solicitude, and his sult of any single man's industry, but goes through cheerfulness dashed with apprehension. Impressed as many hands as a new pin before it is fit for the with the terrors of the tribunal before which he is public. I fancy, sir," continues he, "I can progoing to appear, his natural humour turns to pert-vide an eminent hand, and upon moderate terms, ness, and for real wit he is obliged to substitute to draw up a promising plan to smooth up our vivacity. His first publication draws a crowd; readers a little, and pay them as Colonel Charteris they part dissatisfied; and the author, never more paid his seraglio, at the rate of three halfpence in to be indulged with a favourable hearing, is left to hand, and three shillings more in promises." condemn the indelicacy of his own address, or their want of discernment.

He was proceeding in his advice, which, how ever, I thought proper to decline, by assuring him, For my part, as I was never distinguished for that as I intended to pursue no fixed method, so it address, and have often even blundered in mak- was impossible to form any regular plan; determining my bow, such bodings as these had like to ed never to be tedious in order to be logical, have totally repressed my ambition. I was at a wherever pleasure presented I was resolved to fol loss whether to give the public specious promises, low. Like the Bee, which I had taken for the title or give none; whether to be merry or sad on this of my paper, I would rove from flower to flower, solemn occasion. If I should decline all merit, it with seeming inattention, but concealed choice, was too probable the hasty reader might have taken expatiate over all the beauties of the season, and me at my word. If, on the other hand, like labour- make my industry my amusement. ers in the magazine trade, I had, with modest impudence, humbly presumed to promise an epitome of all the good things that ever were said or written, this might have disgusted those readers I most desire to please. Had I been merry, I might have been censured as vastly low; and had I been sorrowful,

This reply may also serve as an apology to the reader, who expects, before he sits down, a bill of his future entertainment. It would be improper to pall his curiosity by lessening his surprise, or anticipate any pleasure I am able to procure him, by saying what shall come next. Thus much, how

ever, he may be assured of, that neither war nor low, or sad stuff, this I protest is more than I scandal shall make any part of it, Homer finely know. I have a clear conscience, and am entirely imagines his deity turning away with horror from out of the secret.

the prospect of a field of battle, and seeking tran- Yet I would not have him, upon the perusal of quillity among a nation noted for peace and sim- a single paper, pronounce me incorrigible; he may plicity. Happy, could any effort of mine, but for try a second, which, as there is a studied differa moment, repress that savage pleasure some men ence in subject and style, may be more suited to find in the daily accounts of human misery! How his taste; if this also fails, I must refer him to a gladly would I lead them from scenes of blood and third, or even to a fourth, in case of extremity. altercation, to prospects of innocence and ease, where every breeze breathes health, and every sound is but the echo of tranquillity!

If he should still continue to be refractory, and find me dull to the last, I must inform him, with Bays in the Rehearsal, that I think him a very odd kind of a fellow, and desire no more of his acquaintance.

It is with such reflections as these I endeavour

neglect of some readers, and am prepared for their dislike by mutual recrimination. If such should impute dealing neither in battles nor scandal to me as a fault, instead of acquiescing in their censure, I must beg leave to tell them a story.

But whatever the merit of his intentions may be, every writer is now convinced, that he must be chiefly indebted to good fortune for finding readers willing to allow him any degree of reputation. It to fortify myself against the future contempt or has been remarked, that almost every character, which has excited either attention or praise, has owed part of its success to merit, and part to a happy concurrence of circumstances in its favour. Had Cæsar or Cromwell exchanged countries, the one might have been a sergeant, and the other an A traveller, in his way to Italy, happening to exciseman. So it is with wit, which generally pass at the foot of the Alps, found himself at last succeeds more from being happily addressed, than in a country where the inhabitants had each a from its native poignancy. A bon mot, for in- large excrescence depending from the chin, like stance, that might be relished at White's, may the pouch of a monkey. This deformity, as it lose all its flavour when delivered at the Cat and Bagpipes in St. Giles's. A jest, calculated to spread at a gaming-table, may be received with a perfect neutrality of face, should it happen to drop in a mackerel-boat. We have all seen dunces triumph in such companies, when men of real humour were disregarded, by a general combination It was Sunday, a country church was at hand, in favour of stupidity. To drive the observation and our traveller was willing to perform the duties as far as it will go, should the labours of a writer, of the day. Upon his first appearance at the who designs his performances for readers of a more church-door, the eyes of all were naturally fixed refined appetite, fall into the hands of a devourer upon the stranger; but what was their amazement, of compilations, what can he expect but contempt when they found that he actually wanted that emand confusion? If his merits are to be determined blem of beauty, a pursed chin! This was a defect by judges, who estimate the value of a book from that not a single creature had sufficient gravity its bulk, or its frontispiece, every rival must acquire (though they were noted for being grave) to withan easy superiority, who, with persuasive elo- stand. Stifled bursts of laughter, winks and whisquence, promises four extraordinary pages of letter-pers, circulated from visage to visage, and the prispress, or three beautiful prints, curiously coloured matic figure of the stranger's face was a fund of from nature.

was endemic, and the people little used to strangers, it had been the custom, time immemorial, to look upon as the greatest ornament of the human visage. Ladies grew toasts from the size of their chins; and none were regarded as pretty fellows, but such whose faces were broadest at the bottom.

infinite gaiety; even the parson, equally remarkaBut to proceed: though I can not promise as ble for his gravity and chin, could hardly refrain much entertainment, or as much elegance, as joining in the good-humour. Our traveller could others have done, yet the reader may be assured, no longer patiently continue an object for defor he shall have as much of both as I can. He shall, mity to point at. "Good folks," said he, "I perat least, find me alive while I study his entertain-ceive that I am the unfortunate cause of all this ment; for I solemnly assure him, I was never yet good-humour. It is true, I may have faults in possessed of the secret at once of writing and abundance; but I shall never be induced to sleeping. reckon my want of a swelled face among the number."*

During the course of this paper, therefore, all the wit and learning I have are heartily at his serDr. Goldsmith inserted this Introduction, with a few vice; which if, after so candid a confession, he trifling alterations, in the volume of Essays he published in should, notwithstanding, still find intolerably dull, the year 1765.

ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH STRUCK

LIGHTNING.

Imitated from the Spanish.

LUMINE Acon dextro, capta est Leonida sinistro,
Et poterat formâ vincere uterque Deos.
Parve puer, lumen quod habes concede puellæ;
Sic tu cæcus amor, sic erit illa Venus.*

REMARKS ON OUR THEATRES.

he may show the fertility of his genius, the poig BLIND WITH nancy of his humour, and the exactness of his judgment: we scarcely see a coxcomb or a fool iz common life, that has not some peculiar oddity ir. his action. These peculiarities it is not in the power of words to represent, and depend solely upon the actor. They give a relish to the humour of the poet, and make the appearance of nature more illusive. The Italians, it is true, mask some characters, and endeavour to preserve the peculiar humour by the make of the mask; but I have seen others still preserve a great fund of humour in the face without a mask; one actor, particularly, by a squint which he threw into some characters OUR Theatres are now opened, and all Grub- of low life, assumed a look of infinite stolidity. street is preparing its advice to the managers. We This, though upon reflection we might condemn, shall undoubtedly hear learned disquisitions on yet immediately upon representation we could not the structure of one actor's legs, and another's eye- avoid being pleased with. To illustrate what I brows. We shall be told much of enunciations, have been saying by the plays which I have of tones, and attitudes; and shall have our lightest late gone to see: in the Miser, which was played pleasures commented upon by didactic dulness. a few nights ago at Covent-Garden, Lovegold apWe shall, it is feared, be told, that Garrick is a pears through the whole in circumstances of exfine actor; but then as a manager, so avaricious! aggerated avarice; all the player's action, thereThat Palmer is a most surprising genius, and Hol-fore should conspire with the poet's design, and land likely to do well in a particular cast of cha- represent him as an epitome of penury. The racter. We shall have them giving Shuter instruc- French comedian, in this character, in the midst tions to amuse us by rule, and deploring over the of one of his most violent passions, while he apruins of desolated majesty at Covent-Garden. As pears in an ungovernable rage, feels the demon of I love to be advising too, for advice is easily given, avarice still upon him, and stoops down to pick up and bears a show of wisdom and superiority, Ia pin, which he quilts into the flap of his coatmust be permitted to offer a few observations upon pocket with great assiduity. Two candles are our theatres and actors, without, on this trivial lighted up for his wedding; he flies, and turns one occasion, throwing my thoughts into the formality of them into the socket: it is, however, lighted up again; he then steals to it, and privately crams it There is something in the deportment of all our into his pocket. The Mock-Doctor was lately players infinitely more stiff and formal than among played at the other house. Here again the comethe actors of other nations. Their action sits un-dian had an opportunity of heightening the ridieasy upon them; for, as the English use very little cule by action. The French player sits in a chair gesture in ordinary conversation, our English-bred with a high back, and then begins to show away actors are obliged to supply stage gestures by their by talking nonsense, which he would have thought imagination alone. A French comedian finds Latin by those who he knows do not understand proper models of action in every company and in a syllable of the matter. At last he grows enthuevery coffee-house he enters. An Englishman is siastic, enjoys the admiration of the company, tosses obliged to take his models from the stage itself; his legs and arms about, and, in the midst of he is obliged to imitate nature from an imitation his raptures and vociferation, he and the chair fall of nature. I know of no set of men more likely back together. All this appears dull enough in to be improved by travelling than those of the theatrica. profession. The inhabitants of the continent are less reserved than here; they may be seen through upon a first acquaintance; such are the proper models to draw from; they are at once striking, and are found in great abundance.

of method.

the recital, but the gravity of Cato could not stand it in the representation. In short, there is hardly a character in comedy to which a player of any real humour might not add strokes of vivacity that could not fail of applause. But, instead of this, we too often see our fine gentlemen do nothing, through a whole part, but strut and open their snuff-box; our pretty fellows sit indecently with their legs across, and our clowns pull up their breeches. These, if once, or even twice repeated, might do well enough; but to see them served up • An English Epigram, on the same subject, is inserted in in every scene, argues the actor almost as barren. the second volume, p. 110.

Though it would be inexcusable in a comedian to add any thing of his own to the poet's dialogue, yet, as to action, he is entirely at liberty. By this

as the character he would expose.

The magnificence of our theatres is far superior |

TIMIUS.

Translated from a Byzantine Historian.

to any others in Europe, where plays only are act- THE STORY OF ALCANDER AND SEP ed. The great care our performers take in painting for a part, their exactness in all the minutiae of dress, and other little scenical properties, have been taken notice of by Ricoboni, a gentleman of Italy, ATHENS, even long before the decline of the who travelled Europe with no other design but to Roman empire, still continued the seat of learning, remark upon the stage; but there are several im- politeness, and wisdom. The emperors and geneproprieties still continued, or lately come into rals, who in these periods of approaching ignorance, fashion. As, for instance, spreading a carpet still felt a passion for science, from time to time addpunctually at the beginning of the death scence, in ed to its buildings, or increased its professorships. order to prevent our actors from spoiling their Theodoric, the Ostrogoth, was of the number; he clothes; this immediately apprises us of the tragedy repaired those schools, which barbarity was sufferto follow; for laying the cloth is not a more sure ing to fall into decay, and continued those pensions indication of dinner, than laying the carpet of to men of learning, which avaricious governors bloody work at Drury-Lane. Our little pages also, had monopolized to themselves. with unmeaning faces, that bear up the train of a In this city, and about this period, Alcander weeping princess, and our awkward lords in wait- and Septimius were fellow-students together. The ing, take off much from her distress. Mutes of one the most subtle reasoner of all the Lyceum; every kind divide our attention, and lessen our the other the most eloquent speaker in the academic sensibility; but here it is entirely ridiculous, as we grove. Mutual admiration soon begot an acsee them seriously employed in doing nothing. If we must have dirty-shirted guards upon the theatres, they should be taught to keep their eyes fixed on the actors, and not roll them round upon the audience, as if they were ogling the boxes.

quaintance, and a similitude of disposition made them perfect friends. Their fortunes were nearly equal, their studies the same, and they were natives of the two most celebrated cities in the world; for Alcander was of Athens, Septimius came from Rome.

Beauty, methinks, seems a requisite qualification in an actress. This seems scrupulously ob- In this mutual harmony they lived for some time served elsewhere, and, for my part, I could wish together, when Alcander, after passing the first to see it observed at home. I can never con- part of his youth in the indolence of philosophy, ceive a hero dying for love of a lady totally destitute thought at length of entering into the busy world, of beauty. I must think the part unnatural; for I and as a step previous to this, placed his affections can not bear to hear him call that face angelic, on Hypatia, a lady of exquisite beauty. Hypatia where even paint can not hide its wrinkles. I must showed no dislike to his addresses. The day of condemn him of stupidity, and the person whom I their intended nuptials was fixed, the previous cerecan accuse for want of taste, will seldom become monies were performed, and nothing now remainthe object of my affections or admiration. But if ed but her being conducted in triumph to the apartthis be a defect, what must be the entire perver-ment of the intended bridegroom.

sion of scenical decorum, when, for instance, we An exultation in his own happiness, or his besee an actress, that might act the Wapping land- ing unable to enjoy any satisfaction without making lady without a bolster, pining in the character of his friend Septimius a partner, prevailed upon him Jane Shore, and while unwieldy with fat, en- to introduce his mistress to his fellow-student, deavouring to convince the audience that she is dying with hunger!

which he did with all the gaiety of a man who found himself equally happy in friendship and love. For the future, then, I could wish that the parts But this was an interview fatal to the peace of of the young or beautiful were given to performers both. Septimius no sooner saw her, but he was of suitable figures; for I must own, I could rather smitten with an involuntary passion. He used see the stage filled with agreeable objects, though every effort, but in vain, to suppress desires at once they might sometimes bungle a little, than see it so imprudent and unjust. He retired to his apartcrowded with withered or misshapen figures, be ment in inexpressible agony; and the emotions of their emphasis, as I think it is called, ever so proper. his mind in a short time became so strong, that The first may have the awkward appearance of they brought on a fever, which the physicians new raised troops; but in viewing the last, I can-judged incurable. not avoid the mortification of fancying myself placed in an hospital of invalids.

During this illness, Alcander watched him with all the anxiety of fondness, and brought his mis. tress to join in those amiable offices of friendship.