has dared to tell you
so; whether we have been all conscious to ourselves that it was a
needless labour to give this notice to mankind, as all men are ashamed
to tell stale news; or that we were justly diffident of our own
performances, as even Cicero is observed to be in awe when he writes
to Atticus; where, knowing himself over-matched in good sense, and
truth of knowledge, he drops the gaudy train of words, and is no
longer the vain-glorious orator. From whatever reason it may be, I am
the first bold offender of this kind: I have broken down the fence,
and ventured into the holy grove. How I may be punished for my profane
attempt, I know not; but I wish it may not be of ill omen to your
lordship: and that a crowd of bad writers do not rush into the quiet
of your recesses after me. Every man in all changes of government,
which have been, or may possibly arrive, will agree, that I could not
have offered my incense, where it could be so well deserved. For you,
my lord, are secure in your own merit; and all parties, as they rise
uppermost, are sure to court you in their turns; it is a tribute which
has ever been paid your virtue. The leading men still bring their
bullion to your mint, to receive the stamp of their intrinsic value,
that they may afterwards hope to pass with human kind. They rise and
fall in the variety of revolutions, and are sometimes great, and
therefore wise in men's opinions, who must court them for their
interest. But the reputation of their parts most commonly follows
their success; few of them are wise, but as they are in power; because
indeed, they have no sphere of their own, but, like the moon in the
Copernican system of the world, are whirled about by the motion of a
greater planet. This it is to be ever busy; neither to give rest to
their fellow-creatures, nor, which is more wretchedly ridiculous, to
themselves; though, truly, the latter is a kind of justice, and giving
mankind a due revenge, that they will not permit their own hearts to
be at quiet, who disturb the repose of all beside them. Ambitious
meteors! how willing they are to set themselves upon the wing, and
taking every occasion of drawing upward to the sun, not considering
that they have no more time allowed them for their mounting, than the
short revolution of a day; and that when the light goes from them,
they are of necessity to fall. How much happier is he, (and who he is
I need not say, for there is but one phoenix in an age)