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from his mule, and proceeded to the parish-church, which he found extremely crouded, and there appeared on the faces of the faithful a more than usual alacrity. The fun, it feems, which had been for fome minutes under a cloud, had begun to fhine on a large crucifix, that ftood on the middle of the altar, ftudded with feveral precious ftones. The reflexion from thefe, and from the diamond eyes of fome filver faints, fo dazzled the multitude, that they unanimoufly cried out, A miracle! a miracle! whilft the priest at the altar, with feeming confternation, continued his heavenly conversation. Padre Freijo foon diffipated the charm, by tying his handkerchief round the head of one of the ftatues, for which he was arraigned by the inquifition; whose flames, however, he has had the good fortune hitherto to escape.

THE

THE BEE, No IV.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1759.

MISCELLANEOUS.

WERE I to measure the merit of my present undertaking by its fuccefs, or the rapidity of its fale, I might be led to form conclufions by no means favourable to the pride of an author. Should I eftimate my fame by its extent, every Newspaper and Magazine would leave me far behind. Their fame is diffused in a very wide circle, that of fome as far as Iflington, and fome yet farther ftill while mine, I fincerely believe, has hardly travelled beyond the found of Bow bell; and while the works of others fly like unpinioned fwans, I find my own move as heavily as a new-plucked goofe.

Still, however, I have as much pride as they who have ten times as many readers. It is impoffible to repeat all the agreable delufions, in which a difappointed author is apt to find comfort. I conclude, that what my reputation wants in extent, is made up by its folidity. Minus juvat Gloria lata quam magna. I have great fatisfaction in confidering the delicacy and difcernment of thofe readers I have, and in afcribing my want of popularity to the ignorance or inattention of those I have not. All the world may forfake an author, but vanity will never forfake him.

Yet notwithstanding fo fincere a confeffion, I was ence induced to fhow my indignation against the

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public, by difcontinuing my endeavours to pleafe; and was bravely refolved, like Raleigh, to vex them by burning my manufcript in a paffion. Upon recollection, however, I confidered what fet or body of people would be displeased at my rafhnefs. The fun, after fo fad an accident, might fhine next morning as bright as ufual; men might laugh and fing the next day, and tranfact bufinefs as before, and not a fingle creature feel any regret but myself.

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I reflected upon the ftory of a minifter, who in the reign of Charles II. upon a certain occafion, refigned all his pofts, and retired into the country in a fit of refentment. But as he had not given the world entirely up with his ambition, he fent a mesfenger to town, to fee how the courtiers would bear his refignation. Upon the meffenger's return he was asked whether there appeared any commotion at court? To which he replied, There were very great ones. Ay, fays the minifter, I knew my friends "would make a buftle; all petitioning the king for my restoration, I prefume." No, Sir, replied "the meffenger, they are only petitioning his ma"jefty to be put in your place." In the fame manner, fhould I retire in indignation, inftead of having Apollo in mourning, or the Mufes in a fit of the fpleen; inftead of having the learned world apoftrophifing at my untimely decease, perhaps all Grubftreet might laugh at my fall, and felf-approving dignity might never be able to fhield me from ridicule. In fhort, I am refolved to write on, if it were only to fpite them. If the prefent generation will not hear my voice, hearken, O pofterity, to you I call, and from you I expect redress! What rapture will it not give to have the Scaligers, Daciers, and Warburtons of future times commenting with admiration upon every line I now write, workin gaway thofe ignorant creatures, who offer to arraign my merit,

with all the virulence of learned reproach. Ay, my friends, let them feel it; call names, never spare them; they deferve it all, and ten times more. I have been told of a critic, who was crucified at the command of another to the reputation of Homer. That, no doubt, was more than poetical juftice, and I fhall be perfectly content if thofe, who criticife me, are only clapped in the pillory, kept fifteen days upon bread and water, and obliged to run the gantlope through Paternofter-row. The truth is, I can expect happiness from pofterity either way. If I write ill, happy in being forgotten; if well, happy in being remembered with respect.

Yet, confidering things in a prudential light, perhaps I was mistaken in defigning my paper as an agreeable relaxation to the studious, or an help to converfation among the gay; instead of addreffing it to fuch, I fhould have written down to the taste and apprehenfion of the many, and fought for reputation on the broad road. Literary fame I now find like religious, generally begins among the vulgar. As for the polite, they are fo very polite, as never to applaud upon any account. One of thefe, with a face fcrewed up into affectation, tells you, that fools may admire, but men of fenfe only approve. Thus, left he should rife in rapture at any thing new, he keeps down every paffion but pride and felf-importance; approves with phlegm, and the poor author is damned in the taking a pinch of fnuff. Another has written a book himself, and being condemned for a dunce, he turns a fort of king's evidence in criticifm, and now becomes the terror of every offender. A third, poffeffed of full-grown reputation, fhades off every beam of favour from those who endeavour to grow beneath him, and keeps down that merit, which, but for his influence, might rife into equal eminence. While others, ftill worse,

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worse, perufe old books for their amufement, and new books only to condemn ; fo that the publick feem heartily fick of all but the bufinefs of the day, and read every thing now with as little attention as they examine the faces of the paffing crowd.

From thefe confiderations I was once determined to throw off all connexions with tafte, and fairly address my countrymen in the fame engaging ftyle and manner with other periodical pamphlets, much more in vogue than probably mine fhall ever be. To effect this, I had thoughts of changing the title into that of the ROYAL BEE, the ANTIGALLICAN BEE, or the BEE'S MAGAZINE. I had laid in a proper ftock of popular topicks, fuch as encomiums on the king of Pruffia, invectives against the queen of Hungary and the French, the neceffity of a militia, our undoubted fovereignty of the feas, reflections upon the present state of affairs, a differtation upon liberty, fome feafonable thoughts upon the intended bridge of Black-friars, and an addrefs to Britons. The hitory of an old woman, whofe teeth grew three inches long, an ode upon our victories, a rebus, an acrostic upon Mifs Peggy P. and a journal of the weather. All this, together with four extraordinary pages letter prefs, a beautiful map of England, and two prints curioufly coloured from Nature, I fancied might touch their very fouls. I was actually beginning an addrefs to the people, when my pride at laft overcame my prudence, and determined me to endeavour to please by the goodness of my entertainment, rather than by the magnificence of my fign.

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The Spectator, and many fucceeding effayifts, frequently inform us of the numerous compliments paid them in the courfe of their lucubrations; of the frequent encouragements they met to infpire them with ardour, and encrease their eagerness to please. I have received my letters as well as they; but alas!

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