The Tatler, Volume 1, 1899 | Page 9

and persons
mentioned in this work, as well as some account of the assistances I
have had in the performance. I shall do this in very few words; for
when a man has no design but to speak plain truth, he may say a great
deal in a very narrow compass. I have in the dedication of the first
volume made my acknowledgments to Dr. Swift, whose pleasant
writings, in the name of Bickerstaff, created an inclination in the town
towards anything that could appear in the same disguise. I must
acknowledge also, that at my first entering upon this work, a certain
uncommon way of thinking, and a turn in conversation peculiar to that
agreeable gentleman, rendered his company very advantageous to one
whose imagination was to be continually employed upon obvious and
common subjects, though at the same time obliged to treat of them in a
new and unbeaten method. His verses on the Shower in Town,[44] and
the Description of the Morning,[45] are instances of the happiness of
that genius, which could raise such pleasing ideas upon occasions so
barren to an ordinary invention.
When I am upon the house of Bickerstaff, I must not forget that
genealogy of the family sent to me by the post, and written, as I since
understand, by Mr. Twysden,[46] who died at the battle of Mons, and

has a monument in Westminster Abbey, suitable to the respect which is
due to his wit and his valour. There are through the course of the work
very many incidents which were written by unknown correspondents.
Of this kind is the tale in the second Tatler, and the epistle from Mr.
Downes the prompter,[47] with others which were very well received
by the public. But I have only one gentleman,[48] who will be
nameless, to thank for any frequent assistance to me, which indeed it
would have been barbarous in him to have denied to one with whom he
has lived in an intimacy from childhood, considering the great ease
with which he is able to dispatch the most entertaining pieces of this
nature. This good office he performed with such force of genius,
humour, wit and learning, that I fared like a distressed prince who calls
in a powerful neighbour to his aid; I was undone by my auxiliary; when
I had once called him in, I could not subsist without dependence on
him.
The same hand writ the distinguishing characters of men and women
under the names of Musical Instruments, the Distress of the
News-writers, the Inventory of the Playhouse, and the Description of
the Thermometer,[49] which I cannot but look upon as the greatest
embellishments of this work.
Thus far I thought necessary to say relating to the great hands which
have been concerned in these volumes, with relation to the spirit and
genius of the work; and am far from pretending to modesty in making
this acknowledgment. What a man obtains from the good opinion and
friendship of worthy men, is a much greater honour than he can
possibly reap from any accomplishments of his own. But all the credit
of wit which was given me by the gentlemen above mentioned (with
whom I have now accounted) has not been able to atone for the
exceptions made against me for some raillery in behalf of that learned
advocate for the episcopacy of the Church, and the liberty of the people,
Mr. Hoadly. I mention this only to defend myself against the
imputation of being moved rather by party than opinion;[50] and I
think it is apparent, I have with the utmost frankness allowed merit
wherever I found it, though joined in interests different from those for
which I have declared myself. When my Favonius[51] is acknowledged
to be Dr. Smalridge, and the amiable character of the dean in the
sixty-sixth Tatler drawn for Dr. Atterbury, I hope I need say no more as

to my impartiality.
I really have acted in these cases with honesty, and am concerned it
should be thought otherwise: for wit, if a man had it, unless it be
directed to some useful end, is but a wanton frivolous quality; all that
one should value himself upon in this kind is, that he had some
honourable intention in it.
As for this point, never hero in romance was carried away with a more
furious ambition to conquer giants and tyrants, than I have been in
extirpating gamesters and duellists. And indeed, like one of those
knights too, though I was calm before, I am apt to fly out again, when
the thing that first disturbed me is presented to my imagination. I shall
therefore leave off when I am well, and fight with windmills no more:
only shall be so arrogant as to say of myself, that