he object of
critical malignity. Whatever is mean will be imputed to him, and
whatever is excellent be ascribed to his assistants. It does not much
alter the event, that the author and his correspondents are equally
unknown; for the author, whoever he be, is an individual, of whom every
reader has some fixed idea, and whom he is therefore unwilling to
gratify with applause; but the praises given to his correspondents are
scattered in the air, none can tell on whom they will light, and
therefore none are unwilling to bestow them.

He that is known to contribute to a periodical work, needs no other
caution than not to tell what particular pieces are his own; such
secrecy is indeed very difficult; but if it can be maintained, it is
scarcely to be imagined at how small an expense he may grow
considerable.

A person of quality, by a single paper, may engross the honour of a
volume. Fame is indeed dealt with a hand less and less bounteous through
the subordinate ranks, till it descends to the professed author, who
will find it very difficult to get more than he deserves; but every man
who does not want it, or who needs not value it, may have liberal
allowances; and, for five letters in the year sent to the Idler, of
which perhaps only two are printed, will be promoted to the first rank
of writers by those who are weary of the present race of wits, and wish
to sink them into obscurity before the lustre of a name not yet known
enough to be detested.

[1] See Knox's Essays, Number 50.

No. 3. SATURDAY, APRIL 29, 1758.

--_Otia vitae
Solamur cantu_. STAT.

It has long been the complaint of those who frequent the theatres, that
all the dramatick art has been long exhausted, and that the vicissitudes
of fortune, and accidents of life, have been shown in every possible
combination, till the first scene informs us of the last, and the play
no sooner opens, than every auditor knows how it will conclude. When a
conspiracy is formed in a tragedy, we guess by whom it will be detected;
when a letter is dropt in a comedy, we can tell by whom it will be
found. Nothing is now left for the poet but character and sentiment,
which are to make their way as they can, without the soft anxiety of
suspense, or the enlivening agitation of surprise.

A new paper lies under the same disadvantages as a new play. There is
danger lest it be new without novelty. My earlier predecessors had their
choice of vices and follies, and sel