He talks madly, dash, dash, without any fear at all, and never cares how he bespatters others, or defiles himself; nor ceases he till he has quite run himself out of breath; when no wonder, if to fools he seems to get the start of those who wisely pick out their way, and are as fearful of abusing others as themselves: He has the Buffoons priviledge, of saying or doing anything without exceptions, and he will call a jealous man Cuckold, a childe of doubtful birth Bastard, and a Lady of suspected honor a Whore, and they but laugh at it; and all Scholars are Pedants; and Physicians, Quacks with him, when to be angry at it is the avowing it. Then in Ladies chambers, he will tumble beds, and towse your Ladies dress up unto the height, to the hazard of a Bed-staff thrown at his head, or rap o're the fingers with a Busk, and that is all; only is this he is far worse than the Buffoon, since they study to delight, this only to offend; they to make merry, but this onely to make you mad, whence wo be t' ye of he discovers and imperfection or fault in you, for he never findes a breach but he makes a hole of it; nor a hole but he tugs at it so long till he tear it quite; giving you for reason of his incivility, because (forsooth) it troubled you, which would make any civil man cease troubling you. So he wears his wit as Bravo's do their swords, to mischief and offend others, not as Gentlemen to defend themselves: and tis crime in him, what is ornament in others; he being onely a wit at that, at which a good wit is a fool. Especially he triumphs over your modest men; and when he meets with a simple body, passes for a wit, but a wit indeed makes a simplician of him; so goes he persecuting others till some one or other at last (as chollerick as he is abusive) cudgel him for his pains; when he goes grumbling away in a mighty choler, saying, They understand not jest, when indeed tis rather he.
[THE ADVENTURER.]
VOLUME THE FOURTH.
No. CXXVII. Tuesday, January 22. 1754.
—Veteres ita miratur, laudatque!—
HOR.
The wits of old he praises and admires.
"It is very remarkable," says Addison, "that notwithstanding we fall short at present of the ancients in poetry, painting, oratory, history, architecture, and all the noble arts and sciences which depend more upon genius than experience; we exceed them as much in doggerel, humour, burlesque, and all the trivial arts of ridicule." As this fine observation stands at present only in the form of a general assertion, it deserves, I think, to be examined by a deduction of particulars, and confirmed by an allegation of examples, which may furnish an agreeable entertainment to those who have ability and inclination to remark the revolutions of human wit.
That Tasso, Ariosto, and Camoens, the three most celebrated of modern Epic Poets, are infinitely excelled in propriety of design, of sentiment, and style, by Horace and Virgil, it would be serious trifling to attempt to prove: but Milton, perhaps, will not so easily resign his claim to equality, if not to superiority. Let it, however, be remembered, that if Milton be enabled to dispute the prize with the great champions of antiquity, it is entirely owing to the sublime conceptions he has copied from the book of God. These, therefore, must be taken away before we begin to make a just estimate of his genius; and from what remains, it cannot, I presume, be said with candour and impartiality, that he has excelled Homer in the sublimity and variety of his thoughts, or the strength and majesty of his diction.