"Mr. M's 4th chapter is intituled 'Eccentricity proved to be sometimes injurious, though often inoffensive.' We could willingly have spared Mr. Malcolm the necessity of exhibiting any proofs on this occasion; most of the Anecdotes which he has scraped together are destitute of interest." The writer has been much my friend in this instance, though certainly without intending it; for he could not have more effectually convinced the publick of his incapability. Can he suppose it possible that, in describing the Manners of the Metropolis, the eccentricities of its inhabitants should be omitted? It is as impossible as that any person should agree with him in all his absurdities. As to exciting of interest, the very nature of eccentricity is such, that pity alone must predominate in the breast of the considerate reader. The sneer that my specimens of eccentricity will make the Anecdotes "a favourite of the Circulating Libraries,"
came from the same hand that could write "a bushel of coals" instead of a chaldron of coals allowed by James Austin to boil his pudding fourteen days.
The loyal reader shall comment for himself on the following extract from this admirable Review: "In 1736, a laudable attempt was made to suppress the excessive use of Gin; and the resentment of the populace became so very turbulent, that they even presumed to exclaim in the streets, 'No Gin, no King.' Whatever respect we may have for the exclamation, 'No Bishop, no King,' we do not think that either monarchy or any other government needs the support of this, pernicious distillation." This is what the Reviewer 'tells us,' and I suppose the discovery was made "after many nights of sleepless meditation;" indeed the same degree of intense thought seems to have produced another sapient piece of philosophy or rhetoric, which is offered to our consideration in p. 11 of the Review. "When a bull gives permission to a greater brute than himself to bait him to death with dogs, we will allow that something like a sanction is given to the sport." Surely these specimens of deep cogitation are almost equal to my "novel observation that 'partnerships too frequently produce dissention and a struggle for individual power';" and the Reviewer's own words, "Mr. M. might have added to the spirit and interest of his work by omitting such superfluous details." These superfluous details, good reader, relate to the disputes between Messrs. Harris and Colman in 1768, which, having excited great interest amongst those who frequented the Theatre, could not, and ought not to be omitted to gratify an invisible
individual, who is perhaps too much of a Philosopher to be pleased with Dramatic Entertainments.
The spleen of the Reviewer, having increased by indulgence, attains its acmè of virulence at the close of the article: "In his 12th Chapter Mr. M. professes to exhibit a Sketch of the present State of Society in London; in which we do not meet with much sagacity of remark, or novelty of information. Take an instance of his common-place details: 'The reader must recollect, that when a family is without visitors, it is governed by greater regularity. Many Merchants and rich Tradesmen pass much of their leisure time at Coffee-houses; and dinners are commonly given at those places'."
Now, what but blind and indiscriminating acrimony could dictate the above remarks? What sagacity was required to narrate facts as clear as noon-day? Or, what novelty of information could arise from describing the domestic occurrences of families in general? The Reviewer dared not say I have falsified a single article; perhaps he would rather I had drawn a fancied picture of present customs, that he might have added a charge of deeper dye against me. The Review of my performance, which has enabled him to earn a dinner, could not have been written if similar common-place details had not appeared during the last century. Good Sir, because you know how we all live at present, are we not to inform those who succeed us how we have lived? Taking the conclusion of sentences as a specimen of the whole, is peculiar to a certain description of Reviewers. Now, by referring to the page whence the extract is taken, it will be found I
had been describing a family as entertaining their visitors, and naturally concluded by saying, "when alone, it was governed with greater regularity." For once we have an attempt at wit, which originates from my having asserted that the dissipation common in high life, and late hours, rendered eating of breakfast a "languid operation."—"We do not believe that there is, in general, so much languor in this operation of eating, as Mr. M. seems to suppose. But, perhaps, Mr. M. will think that we judge of the morning appetite of others by our own; and that we Reviewers have appetites like wolves, and are ready to devour mountains of toast, when they come in our way."—Mountains of toast—admirable metaphor! Surely this cannot be called affected, stiff, starched, verbose, or elevated language; it is familiar enough, and will be understood perfectly by the cook or house-maid, when the article which contains it reaches the Kitchen as waste paper.
"The author ends his smooth-papered volume (a fault I must transfer to the paper-maker, as I have not had it hot-pressed) with the following sentence: 'Such are the follies of many; but, thanks to Heaven! there are numbers of our nobility and gentry who live and act for the general benefit of mankind. And now, Vale Londinium!'—We will add, Vale Mr. M. We have been indebted to you for some information and amusement; but should have been more gratified with the perusal of your work, if you had exhibited more judgment in the selection of the materials, and had not swelled the bulk by a number of futile, irrelevant, and incongruous details."
The readers of the first edition of this work, amounting perhaps to some thousands, have completely and decidedly contradicted the objections brought by the Reviewer in general terms, and supported by cavils upon four or six sentences selected from 490 pages. The readers of the present are offered all those cavils for their consideration, and will judge for themselves of their justice.