changed, without opportunity for bufmefs, tafte for
knowledge, or money for pleafure. Wherever I
came, I was for fome time a ftranger without curio-
fity, and afterwards an acquaintance without friend-
fhip. Having nothing to hope in thefe places of for-
tuitous refidence, I religned my conduct to chance;
I had no intention to offend, I had no ambition to
delight.

I fuppofe every man is fhocked when he hears how
frequently foldiers are wiihing for war. The wifh is
not always fincere ; the greater part are content
with fleep and lace, and counterfeit an ardour which
they do not feel ; but thofe who defire it moft are
neither prompted by malevolence nor patriotifm ;
they neither pant for laurels, nor delight in blood;
but long to be delivered from the tyranny of idlenefs,
and reilored to the dignity of adtive beings.

1 never imagined myfelf to have more courage
than other men, yet was often involuntarily wifhing
for a war, but of a war at that time I had no pro-
fpecl:; and being enabled, by the death of an uncle,
to live without my pay, I quitted the army, and re-
folved to regulate my own motions.

I was pleafed, for a while, with the novelty of in-
dependance, and imagined that 1 had now found what
every man delires. My time was in my own power,
and my habitation was wherever my choice fhould
fix it. I amufed myfelf for two years in pafling
from place to place, and comparing one convenience
with another; but being at lad alhamed of enquiry,

VOL. VII. G and



82 T H E I D L E R, N2f<

and weary of uncertainty, I purchafed a houfe, and
eftablimed my family.

I now expected to begin to be happy, and was
happy for a Ihort time with that expectation. But
I foon perceived my fpirits to fubfide, and my ima-
gination to grow dark. The gloom thickened
every day round me. I wondered by what ma-
lignant power my peace was blafted, till I difcovered
at laft that I had nothing to do.

Time, with all its celerity, moves ilowly to him
whofe whole employment is to watch its flight, I
am forced upon a thoufand ihifts to enable me to
endure the tedioufnefs of the day. I rife when I cart
ileep no longer, and take my morning walk ; I fee
what I have feen before, and return. I lit down,
and perfuade myfelf that I fit down to think, find it
impoffible to think without a fubjeft, rife up to en-
quire after news, and endeavour to kindle in myfelf
an artificial impatience for intelligence of events-,
which will never extend any confequence to me,
but that a few minutes they abftradt me from myfelf.
When 1 have heard any thing that may gratify
curiofity, I am bulled for a while in running to re-
late it. I haften from one place of concourfe to an-
other, delighted with my own importance, and proud
to think that I am doing fomething, though I know
that another hour would fpare my labour.

I had once a round of vifits, which I paid very re-
gularly , but I have now tired moft of my friends.
When I have fat down I forget to rife, and have
more than once overheard one alking another when
I would be gone. I perceive the company tired, I

obferve



N2i. THE IDLER. 83

obferve the miftrefs of the family whiipering to her
fervants, I find orders given to put off bulinefs till
to-morrow, I fee the watches frequently infpedted,
and yet cannot withdraw to the vacuity of folitude,
or venture myfelf in my own company.

Thus burthenibme to myfelf and others, I form
many fchemes of employment which may make my
life ufeful or agreeable, and exempt me from the
ignominy of living by fufferance. This new courfe
1 have long defigned, but have not yet begun. The
prefent moment is never proper for the change, but
there is always a time in view when all obftacles will
be removed, and I fhall furprize all that know me
with a new diftribution of my time. Twenty years
have paft fince I have refolved a complete amend-
ment, and twenty years have been loft in delays. Age
is coming upon me; and I fhouid look back with
rage and defpair upon the wafte of life, but that I am
now beginning in earneft to begin a reformation.

I am, SIR,

Your humble fervant,

DICK LINGER^



G 2, NUMB.,



S4 T H E I D L E R. N J 22.

NUMB. 22. SATURDAY, September 16, 1758,

To the IDLER.

SIR,

AS I was paffing lately under one of the gates of
this city, I was ftruck with horror by a rueful
cry, which fummoned me to remember the poor debtors.

The wifdom and juftice of the Englijh laws are, by
Englijbmen at leaft, loudly celebrated; but fcarcely
the moft zealous admirers of our inftitutions can
think that law wife, which, when men are capable of
work, obliges them to beg; orjuft, which expofes
the liberty of one to the paffions of another.

The profperity of a people is proportionate to the
number of hands and minds ufefully employed. To
the community, fedition is a fever, corruption is a
gangrene, and idlenefs an atrophy. Whatever body,
and whatever fociety, waftes more than it acquires,
muft gradually decay ; and every being that conti-
nues to be fed, and ceafes to labour, takes away
fomething from the publick (lock.

The confinement, therefore, of any man in the
doth and darknefs of a prifon, is a lofs to the nation,
and no gain to the creditor. For of the multitudes
who are pining in thofe cells of mifery, a very fmall
partis fufpetted of any fraudulent act by which they
retain what belongs to others. The reft are impri-
foned by the wantonnefs of pride, the malignity of
revenge, or the acrimony of difappointed expecta-
tion.

If



N 22. T H E I D L E R. 85

If rhofe, who thus rigoroufly exercife the power
which the law has put into their hands, be afked,
why they continue to imprifon thofe whom they
know to be unable to pay them; one will anfwer,
that his debtor once lived better than himfelf; an-
other, that his wife looked above her neighbours, and
his children went in filk clothes to the dancing-
fchool; and another, that he pretended to be a joker
and a wit. Some will reply, that if they were in
debt, they Ihould meet with the fame treatment;
fome, that they owe no more than they can pay,
and need therefore give no account of their adions.
Some will confefs their refolution, that their debtors
fhall rot in jail; and fome will difcover, that they
hope, by cruelty, to wring the payment from their
friends.

The end of all civil regulations is to fecure private
happinefs from private malignity; to keep indivi-
duals from the power of one another; but this end
is apparently neglected, when a man, irritated with
lofs, is allowed to be the judge of his own caufe, and
to affign the punifhment of his own pain; when the
diftinclion between guilt and happinefs, between ca-
fualty and defign, is entrufted to eyes blind with in-
tereft, to understandings depraved by refentment.

Since poverty is punilhed among us as a crime, it
ought at leaft to be treated with the fame lenity as
other crimes; the offender ought not to languifli at
the will of him whom he has offended, but to be al-
lowed fome appeal to the juftice of his country.
There can be no reafon why any debtor fhould be
imprifoned, but that he may be compelled to pay-
ment; and a term fhould therefore be fixed, in

G * which



86 T H E I D L E R. N e 22.

which the creditor fhould exhibit his accufation of
concealed property. If fuch property can be difco-
vered, let it be given to the creditor; if the charge is
not offered, or cannot be proved, let the prilbner be
difmilfed.

Thofe who made the laws have apparently fup-
pofed, that every deficiency of payment is the crime
of the debtor. But the truth is, that the creditor al-
ways ihares the adt, and often more than lhares the
guilt, of improper truft. It feldom happens that any
man imprifons another but for debts which he fuf-
fered to be contracted in hope of advantage to him-
felf, and for bargains in which he proportioned his
profit to his own opinion of the hazard ; and there is
no reafon, why ono (hould puniih the other for a con-
traft in which both concurred.

Many of the inhabitants of prifons may juftly com-
plain of harder treatment. He that once owes more
than he can pay, is often obliged to bribe his credi-
tor to patience, by encreafing his debt, Worfe and
worfe commodities, at a higher and higher price, are
forced upon him; he is impoverifhed by compulfive
traffick, and at lad overwhelmed, in the common re-
ceptacles of mifery, by debts, which, without his
own confent, were accumulated on his head. To the
relief of this diflrefs, no other objection can be made,
Jbut that by an eafy diffolution of debts fraud will be
left without punifhment, and imprudence without
awe ; and that when infolvency Ihould be no longer
punifhable, credit will ceafe.

The motive to credit, is the hope of advantage.

Commerce can never be at a flop, while one man

wants what another can fupply; and credit will

5



N 22. THE IDLE R. 87

never be denied, while it is likely to be repaid with
profit. He that trufts one whom he defigns to fue,
is criminal by the adt of truft ; the ceffation of fuch
infidious traffick is to be defired, and no reafon can
be given why a change of the law fhould impair any
other.

We fee nation trade with nation, where no pay-
ment can be compelled. Mutual convenience pro-
duces mutual confidence ; and the merchants con-
tinue to fatisfy the demands of each other, though
they have nothing to dread but the lofs of trade.

It is vain to continue an inftitution, which expe-
rience Ihews to be ineffectual. We have now im-
prifoned one generation of debtors after another, but
we do not find that their numbers leflen. We have
now learned, that rafhnefs and imprudence will not
be deterred from taking credit; let us try whether
fraud and avarice may be more eafily retrained from
giving it.

I am, SI R, &c.



G 4 NUMB.



88 T H E I D L E R. N 23,



NUMB. 33. SATURDAY, September 23, 1758.



LIFE has no pleafure higher or nobler than
that of friendlhip. It is painful to confider,
that this fublime enjoyment may be impaired or
deftroyed by innumerable caufes, and that there is
no human pofTeffion of which the duration is lefs
certain.

Many have talked, in very exalted language, of
the perpetuity of friendfhip, of invincible conftancy,
and unalienable kindnefs ; and feme examples have
been feen of men who have continued faithful to
their earlieft choice, and vvhofe affection has predo-
minated over changes of fortune, and contrariety of
opinion.

But thefe inftances are memorable, becaufe they
are rare. The friendfhip which is to be pradtifed or
expected by common mortals, mufl take its rife from
mutuai pleafure, and mufl end when the power ceafes
of delighting each other.

Many accidents therefore may happen, by which
the ardour of kindnefs will be abated, without cri-
minal bafenefs or contemptible inconftancy on either
part. To give pleafure is not always in our power;
and little does he know himfelf, who believes that
he can be always able to receive it.

Thofe who would gladly pafs their days together
may be feparated by the different courfe of their

affairs;



N 23. THE IDLER. 80

J X

affairs ; and friendfhip, like love, is deftroyed by
long abfence, though it may be encreafed by fhort
intermiffions. What we have miffed long enough
to want it, we value more when it is regained ; but
that which has been loft till it is forgotten, will be
found at laft with little gladnefs, and with flill lefs
if a fubflitute has fupplied the place. A man de-
prived of the companion to whom he ufed to open
his bofom, and with whom he lhared the hours of
leifure and merriment, feels the day at firft hanging
heavy on him ; his difficulties opprefs, and is
doubts diftradt him ; he fees time come and go
without his wonted gratification, and all is fadnefs
within and folitude about him. But this uneafinefs
never lafts long ; neceffity produces expedients, new
amufements are difcovered, and new converfation is
admitted. >

No expectation is more frequently difappointed,
than that which naturally arifes in the mind from
the profpect of meeting an old friend after long
feparation. We expert the attraction to be re-
vived, and the coalition to be renewed ; no man
confiders how much alteration time has made in
himfelf, and very few enquire what effect it has had
upon others. The firfl hour convinces them, that
the pleafure, which they have formerly enjoyed, is
for ever at an end ; different fcenes have made dif-
ferent impreffions ; the opinions of both are changed ;
and that fimilitude of manners and fentiment is loft,
which confirmed them both in the approbation of
themfelves.

Friendfhip is often deftroyed by oppofition. of
intereft, not only by the ponderous and vifible inte-

reft



? o T H E I D L E R. N 23.

reft which the defire of wealth and greatnefs forms

o

and maintains, but by a thoufand fecret and flight
competitions, fcarcely known to the mind upon
which they operate. There is fcarcely any man
without fome favourite trifle which he values above
greater attainments, fome defire of petty praife which
he cannot patiently fuffer to be fruftrated. This
minute ambition is fometimes croffed before it is
known, and fometimes defeated by wanton petu-
lance ; but fuch attacks are feldom made without
the lofs of friendfhip; for whoever has once found
the vulnerable part will always be feared, and the
refentment will burn on in fecret of which mame
hinders the difcovery.

This, however, is a flow malignity, which a wife
man will obviate as inconfiftent with quiet, and a
good man will reprefs as contrary to virtue ; but
human happinefs is fometimes violated by fome
more fudden ftrokes.

A difpute begun in jeft, upon a fubjeft which a
moment before was on both parts regarded with
carelefs indifference, is continued by the defire of
conqueft, till vanity kindles into rage, and oppofi-
tion rankles into enmity. Againft this hafty mif-
chief, I know not what fecurity can be obtained :
men will be fometimes furprized into quarrels ; and
though they might both haften to reconciliation, as
foon as their tumult had fubfided, yet two minds will
feldom be found together, which can at once fub-
due their difcontent, or immediately enjoy the fweets
of peace, without remembering the wounds of the
confiid:.

Friendship



N 23. T H E I D L E R. gi

Friendlhip has other enemies. Sufpicion is al-
ways hardening the cautious, and difgufl. repelling
the delicate. Very flender differences will fome-
times part thofe whom long reciprocation of civility
or beneficence has united. Lonelove and Ranger re-
tired into the country to enjoy the company of each
other, and returned in fix weeks cold and petulant ;
Ranger's pleafure was to walk in the fields, and Lone-
love's to fit in a bower , each had complied with the
other in his turn, and each was angry that compli-
ance had been exacted.

The mod fatal difeafe of friendfhip is gradual de-
cay, or diilike hourly encreafed by caufes too flender
for complaint, and too numerous for removal.
Thofe who are angry may be reconciled ; thofe
who have been injured may receive a recompence:
but when the dcfire of pleafing and vvillingnefs
to be pleafed is filently diminifhed, the renovation
of friendfhip is hopelefs ; as, when the vital powers
fink into languor, there is no longer any ufe of the
phyfician.



NUMB.



92 T II E I D L E R. N 24.



NUMB. 24. SATURDAY, September 30, 1758.

THEN man fees one of the inferior crea-
tures perched upon a tree, or bafking in the
funfhine, without any apparent endeavour or pur-
fuit, he often afks himfelf, or his companion, On what
that animal can befuppofid to be thinking ?

Of this queftion, iince neither bird nor beaft can
anfwer it, we muft be content to live without the
refolution. We know not how much the brutes
recollect of the paft, or anticipate of the future;
what power they have of comparing and preferring ;
or whether their faculties may not reft in motionlefs
indifference, till they are moved by the prefence of
their proper objed:, or flimulated to acl: by corporal
fenfations.

I am the lefs inclined to thefe fuperfluous in-
quiries, becaufe I have always been able to find fuf-
ficient matter for curiofity in my own fpecies. It is
ufelefs to go far in queft of that which may be found
at home; a very narrow circle of obfervation will
fupply a fufHcient number of men and women, who
might be afked, with equal propriety, On what they
can be thinking ?

It is reafonable to believe, that thought, like
every thing elfe, has its caufes and effects ; that it
muft proceed from fomething known, done, or fuf-
fered ; and muft produce fomc adtion or event.
Yet how great is the number of thofe in whofe
minds no fource of thought has ever been opened,

in



N 24. T H E I D L E R. 93

in whofe life no confequence of thought is ever
difcovered ; who have learned nothing upon which
they can reflect; who have neither ieen nor felt
any thing which could leave its traces on the me-
mory ; who neither forefee nor delire any change of
their condition, and have therefore neither fear,
hope, nor defign, and yet are fuppofed to be think-
ing beings.

To every aft a fubjeft is required. He that
thinks mult think upon fomething. But tell me,
ye that pierce dcepeft into nature, ye that take the
wideft furveys of life, inform me, kind fhades of
Malbranche and of Locke, what that fomething can
be, which excites and continues thought in maiden
aunts with fmall fortunes , in younger brothers that
live upon annuities; in traders retired from bufmefs ;
in foldiers abfent from their regiments j or in widows
that have no children ?

Life is commonly coniidered as either active or
contemplative ; but furely this divifion, how long
foever it has been received, is inadequate and fal-
lacious. There are mortals whofe life is certainly
not active, for they do neither good nor evil ; and
whofe life cannot be properly called contemplative,
for they never attend either to the conduct of men,
or the works of nature, but rife in the morning,
look round them till night in carelefs ftupidity, go
to bed and fleep, and rife again in the morning.

It has been lately a celebrated queflion in the
fchools of philofophy, Whether the foul always
thinks ? Some have defined the foul to be the power
of thinking ; concluded that its effence confifts in
aft ; that, if it mould ceafe to act, it would ceafc
4 to



94 THE IDLER. N 24,

to be ; and that ceffation of thought is but another
name for extinction of mind. This argument is
fubtle, but not conclufive ; becaufe it fuppofes
what cannot be proved, that the nature of mind is
properly defined. Others affect to difdain fubtilty,
when fubtilty will not ferve their purpofe, and ap-
peal to daily experience. We fpend many hours,
they fay, in ileep, without the leaft remembrance
of any thoughts which then paffed in our minds ;
and fince we can only by our own confcioufnefs be
fure that we think, why Ihould we imagine that we
have had thought of which no confcioufnefs re-
mains ?

This argument, which appeals to experience, may
from experience be confuted. We every day do
fomething which we forget when it is done, and
know to have been done only by confequcnce. The
waking hours are not denied to have been pafled in
thought; yet he that fhall endeavour to recollect on
one day the ideas of the former, will only turn the
eye of reflection upon vacancy ; he will find, that
the greater part is irrevocably vanimed, and wonder
how the moments could come and go, and leave
fo little behind them.

To difcover only that the arguments on both fides
are defective, and to throw back the tenet into its
former uncertainty, is the fport of wanton or male-
volent fcepticifm, delighting to fee the fons of phi-
lofophy at work upon a tafk which never can be
decided. I ihall fuggeft an argument hitherto over-
looked, which may perhaps determine the contro-
verfy.



K 24. THE IDLE R. 75

If it be impoffible to think without materials,
there muft neceflarily be minds that do not always
think: and whence (hall we furnilh materials for the
meditation of the glutton between his meals, of the
fportfman in a rainy month, of the annuitant be-
tween the days of quarterly payment, of the poli-
tician when the mails are detained by contrary winds?

But how frequent foever may be the examples of
exiftence without thought, it is certainly a (late not
much to be deiired. He that lives in torpid in-
fenfibility, wants nothing of a carcafe but putre-
faction. It is the part of every inhabitant of the
earth to partake the pains and pleafures of his fellow-
beings ; and, as in a road through a country defart
and uniform, the traveller languilhes for want of
amufement, fo the paflage of life will be tedious
and irkfome to him who does not beguile it by di-
verfified ideas.



Nl T MB.



96 T H E I D L E R. N 25.

NUMB. 25. SATURDAY, Oflober 7, 1758.

To the IDLE R.

SIR,

I AM a very conftant frequenter of the playhoufe,
a place to which I fuppofe the Idler not much a
ftranger, fince he can have no where elfe fo much
entertainment wich fo little concurrence of his own
endeavour. At all other aflemblies, he that comes
to receive delight, will be expected to give it ; but
in the theatre nothing is neceflary to the amufement
of two hours, but to fit down and be willing to be
pleafed.

The lad week has offered two new actors to the
town. The appearance and retirement of actors are
the great events of the theatrical world ; and their
firft performances fill the pit with conjecture and
prognoflication, as the firft aftions of a new monarch
agitate nations with hope or fear.

What opinion 1 have formed of the future excel-
lence of thefe candidates for dramatick glory, .it is
not neceflary to declare. Their entrance gave me
a higher and nobler pleafure than any borrowed cha-
racter can afford. I faw the ranks of the theatre
emulating each other in candour and humanity, and
contending who fhould moft effectually affift the
{truggles of endeavour, diffipate the blufh of diffi-
dence, and dill the flutter of timidity.

This



N 25. THE IDLER. 97

This behaviour is fuch as becomes a people, too
tender to reprefs thofe who wifh to pleafe, too gene-
rous to infult thofe who can make no reliftance. A
publick performer is fo much in the power of fpec-
tators, that all unnecefiary feverity is retrained by
that general law of humanity which forbids us to
be cruel where there is nothing to be feared.

In every new performer fomething muft be par-
doned. No man can, by any force of refolution,
fecure to himfelf the full poffeflion of his own
powers under the eye of a large affembly. Varia-
tion of geilure, and flexion of voice, are to be ob-
tained only by experience.

There is nothing for which fuch numbers think
themfelves qualified as for theatrical exhibition.
Every human being has an action graceful to his
own eye, a voice mufical to his own ear, and a
fenfibility which nature forbids him to know that
any other bofom can excel. An art in which fuch
numbers fancy themfelves excellent, and which the
publick liberally rewards, will excite many compe-
titors, and in many attempts there muft be many
mifcarriages.

The care of the critick (hould be to diftinguifh
error from inability, faults of inexperience from de-
fects of nature. Action irregular and turbulent may
be reclaimed ; vociferation vehement and confufed
may be reftrained and modulated ; the Halle of
the tyrant may become the gait of the man ; the
yell of inarticulate diftrefs may be reduced to hu-
man lamentation. All thefe faults Ihould be for
& time overlooked, and afterwards cenfured with

VOL. VII. H gentle-



98 T H E I D L E R. N 25,

gentlenefs and candour. But if in an actor there
appears an utter vacancy of meaning, a frigid equa-
lity, a ftupid languor, a torpid apathy, the greateft
kindnefs that can be Ihewn him, is a fpeedy fentence
of expulfion.

I am, S I R, &c.



THE plea which my correfpondent has offered for
young actors, I am very far from wifhing to invali-
date. I always conlidered thofe combinations which
are fometimes formed in the playhoufe, as a&s of
fraud or of cruelty ; he that applauds him who does
not deferve praiie, is endeavouring to deceive the
publick , he that hiffes in malice or fport, is an op-
preffor and a robber.

But furely this laudable forbearance might be
juftly extended to young poets. The art of the
writer, like that of the player, is attained by flow
degrees. The power of diftinguifhing and difcri-
minating comick characters, or of filling tragedy