 a Garrick, of a Cibber, or a Clive,12 can convey to him; so on the
real Stage, the Character shews himself in a stronger and bolder Light, than he
can be described. And if this be the Case in those fine and nervous
Descriptions, which great Authors themselves have taken from Life, how much more
strongly will it hold when the Writer himself takes his Lines not from Nature,
but from Books! Such Characters are only the faint Copy of a Copy, and can have
neither the Justness nor Spirit of an Original.
    Now this Conversation in our Historian must be universal, that is, with all
Ranks and Degrees of Men: For the Knowledge of what is called High-Life, will
not instruct him in low, nor e converso, will his being acquainted with the
inferior Part of Mankind, teach him the Manners of the superior. And though it
may be thought that the Knowledge of either may sufficiently enable him to
describe at least that in which he hath been conversant; yet he will even here
fall greatly short of Perfection: for the Follies of either Rank do in reality
illustrate each other. For Instance, the Affectation of High-life appears more
glaring and ridiculous from the Simplicity of the Low; and again the Rudeness
and Barbarity of this latter, strikes with much stronger Ideas of Absurdity,
when contrasted with, and opposed to the Politeness which controuls the former.
Besides, to say the Truth, the Manners of our Historian will be improved by both
these Conversations: For in the one he will easily find Examples of Plainness,
Honesty, and Sincerity; in the other of Refinement, Elegance, and a Liberality
of Spirit; which last Quality I myself have scarce ever seen in Men of low Birth
and Education.
    Nor will all the Qualities I have hitherto given my Historian avail him,
unless he have what is generally meant by a good Heart, and be capable of
feeling. The Author who will make me weep, says Horace, must first weep himself.
In reality, no Man can paint a Distress well, which he doth not feel while he is
painting it; nor do I doubt, but that the most pathetic and affecting Scenes
have been writ with Tears. In the same Manner it is with the Ridiculous. I am
convinced I never make my Reader laugh heartily, but where I have laughed before
him, unless it should happen at any Time, that instead of laughing with me, he
should be inclined to laugh at me. Perhaps this may have been the Case at some
Passages in this Chapter, from which Apprehension
