ples, had not a gentleman
produced a book which he thought an instance of this kind: it was a
pamphlet, called, "The Naked Truth."[217] The idea any one would have
of that work from the title, was, that there would be much plain
dealing with people in power, and that we should see things in their
proper light, stripped of the ornaments which are usually given to the
actions of the great: but the skill of this author is such, that he
has, under that rugged appearance, approved himself the finest
gentleman and courtier that ever writ. The language is extremely
sublime, and not at all to be understood by the vulgar: the sentiments
are such as would make no figure in ordinary words; but such is the
art of the expression, and the thoughts are elevated to so high a
degree, that I question whether the discourse will sell much. There
was an ill-natured fellow present, who hates all panegyric mortally.
"P---- take him!" said he, "what the devil means his 'Naked Truth,'
in speaking nothing but to the advantage of all whom he mentions?
This is just such a great action as that of the champion's on a
coronation day, who challenges all mankind to dispute with him the
right of the sovereign, surrounded with his guards." The gentleman
who produced the treatise, desired him to be cautious, and said, it
was writ by an excellent soldier, which made the company observe it
more narrowly: and, as critics are the greatest conjurers at finding
out a known truth, one said, he was sure it was writ by the hand of
his sword-arm. I could not perceive much wit in that expression: but
it raised a laugh, and I suppose, was meant as a sneer upon valiant men.
The same man pretended to see in the style, that it was a horse officer;
but sure that's being too nice: for though you may know officers of the
cavalry by the turn of their feet, I can't imagine how you should
discern their hands from those of other men. But it is always thus with
pedants, they will ever be carping; if a gentleman or a man of honour
puts pen to paper, I don't doubt, but this author will find this
assertion too true, and that obloquy is not repulsed by the force of
arms. I will therefore set this excellent piece in a light too glaring
for weak eyes, and, in imitation of the critic Longinus, shall, as well
as I can, make my observations in a style like the author's, of whom I
treat; which perhaps I am as capable of as another, having an unbounded
force of thinking, as well as a most