by Daniel Defoe
constable, &c., to search for the said persons and goods, who shall
be aided and assisted by the trained bands, if need be, without any
charge to the creditors, to search for, and discover the said
persons and goods; and whoever were aiding in the carrying in the
said goods, or whoever knowingly received either the goods or the
person, should be also guilty of felony.
For as the indigent debtor is a branch of the commonwealth which
deserves its care, so the wilful bankrupt is one of the worst sort
of thieves. And it seems a little unequal that a poor fellow who
for mere want steals from his neighbour some trifle shall be sent
out of the kingdom, and sometimes out of the world, while a sort of
people who defy justice, and violently resist the law, shall be
suffered to carry men's estates away before their faces, and no
officers to be found who dare execute the law upon them.
Any man would be concerned to hear with what scandal and reproach
foreigners do speak of the impotence of our constitution in this
point; that in a civilised Government, as ours is, the strangest
contempt of authority is shown that can be instanced in the world.
I may be a little the warmer on this head, on account that I have
been a larger sufferer by such means than ordinary. But I appeal to
all the world as to the equity of the case. What the difference is
between having my house broken up in the night to be robbed, and a
man coming in good credit, and with a proffer of ready money in the
middle of the day, and buying 500 pounds of goods, and carrying them
directly from my warehouse into the Mint, and the next day laugh at
me, and bid me defiance; yet this I have seen done. I think 'tis
the justest thing in the world that the last should be esteemed the
greater thief, and deserves most to be hanged.
I have seen a creditor come with his wife and children, and beg of
the debtor only to let him have part of his own goods again, which
he had bought, knowing and designing to break. I have seen him with
tears and entreaties petition for his own, or but some of it, and be
taunted and sworn at, and denied by a saucy insolent bankrupt. That
the poor man has been wholly ruined by the cheat. It is by the
villainy of such many an honest man is undone, families starved and
sent a begging, and yet no punishment prescribed by our laws for it.
By the aforesaid commission of inquiry all this might be most
effectually prevented, an honest, indigent tradesman preserved,
knavery detected and punished; Mints, Friars, and privilege-places
suppressed, and without doubt a great number of insolencies avoided
and prevented; of which many more particulars might be insisted
upon, but I think these may be sufficient to lead anybody into the
thought; and for the method, I leave it to the wise heads of the
nation, who know better than I how to state the law to the
circumstances of the crime.
OF ACADEMIES.
We have in England fewer of these than in any part of the world, at
least where learning is in so much esteem. But to make amends, the
two great seminaries we have are, without comparison, the greatest,
I won't say the best, in the world; and though much might be said
here concerning universities in general, and foreign academies in
particular, I content myself with noting that part in which we seem
defective. The French, who justly value themselves upon erecting
the most celebrated academy of Europe, owe the lustre of it very
much to the great encouragement the kings of France have given to
it. And one of the members making a speech at his entrance tells
you that it is not the least of the glories of their invincible
monarch to have engrossed all the learning of the world in that
sublime body.
The peculiar study of the academy of Paris has been to refine and
correct their own language, which they have done to that happy
degree that we see it now spoken in all the courts of Christendom,
as the language allowed to be most universal.
I had the honour once to be a member of a small society, who seemed
to offer at this noble design in England. But the greatness of the
work, and the modesty of the gentlemen concerned, prevailed with
them to desist an enterprise which appeared too great for private
hands to undertake. We want, indeed, a Richelieu to commence such a
work. For I am persuaded were there such a genius in our kingdom to
lead the way, there would not want capacities who could carry on the
work to a glory equal to all that has gone before them. The English
tongue is a subject not at all less worthy the labour of such a
society than the French, and capable of a much greater perfection.
The learned among the French will own that the comprehensiveness of
expression is a glory in which the English tongue not only equals
but excels its neighbours; Rapin, St. Evremont, and the most eminent
French authors have acknowledged it. And my lord Roscommon, who is
allowed to be a good judge of English, because he wrote it as
exactly as any ever did, expresses what I mean in these lines:-
"For who did ever in French authors see
The comprehensive English energy?
The weighty bullion of one sterling line,
Drawn to French wire would through whole pages shine."
"And if our neighbours will yield us, as their greatest critic has
done, the preference for sublimity and nobleness of style, we will
willingly quit all pretensions to their insignificant gaiety."
It is great pity that a subject so noble should not have some as
noble to attempt it. And for a method, what greater can be set
before us than the academy of Paris? Which, to give the French
their due, stands foremost among all the great attempts in the
learned part of the world.
The present King of England, of whom we have seen the whole world
writing panegyrics and encomiums, and whom his enemies, when their
interest does not silence them, are apt to say more of than
ourselves; as in the war he has given surprising instances of a
greatness of spirit more than common: so in peace, I daresay, with
submission, he shall never have an opportunity to illustrate his
memory more than by such a foundation. By which he shall have
opportunity to darken the glory of the French king in peace, as he
has by his daring attempts in the war.
Nothing but pride loves to be flattered, and that only as it is a
vice which blinds us to our own imperfections. I think princes as
particularly unhappy in having their good actions magnified as their
evil actions covered. But King William, who has already won praise
by the steps of dangerous virtue, seems reserved for some actions
which are above the touch of flattery, whose praise is in
themselves.
And such would this be. And because I am speaking of a work which
seems to be proper only for the hand of the king himself, I shall
not presume to carry on this chapter to the model, as I have done in
other subjects. Only thus far:
That a socie
ty be erected by the king himself, if his Majesty
thought fit, and composed of none but persons of the first figure in
learning; and it were to be wished our gentry were so much lovers of
learning that birth might always be joined with capacity.
The work of this society should be to encourage polite learning, to
polish and refine the English tongue, and advance the so much
neglected faculty of correct language, to establish purity and
propriety of style, and to purge it from all the irregular additions
that ignorance and affectation have introduced; and all those
innovations in speech, if I may call them such, which some dogmatic
writers have the confidence to foster upon their native language, as
if their authority were sufficient to make their own fancy
legitimate.
By such a society I daresay the true glory of our English style
would appear; and among all the learned part of the world be
esteemed, as it really is, the noblest and most comprehensive of all
the vulgar languages in the world.
Into this society should be admitted none but persons eminent for
learning, and yet none, or but very few, whose business or trade was
learning. For I may be allowed, I suppose, to say we have seen many
great scholars mere learned men, and graduates in the last degree of
study, whose English has been far from polite, full of stiffness and
affectation, hard words, and long unusual coupling of syllables and
sentences, which sound harsh and untuneable to the ear, and shock
the reader both in expression and understanding.
In short, there should be room in this society for neither
clergyman, physician, nor lawyer. Not that I would put an affront
upon the learning of any of those honourable employments, much less
upon their persons. But if I do think that their several
professions do naturally and severally prescribe habits of speech to
them peculiar to their practice, and prejudicial to the study I
speak of, I believe I do them no wrong. Nor do I deny but there may
be, and now are, among some of all those professions men of style
and language, great masters of English, whom few men will undertake
to correct; and where such do at any time appear, their
extraordinary merit should find them a place in this society; but it
should be rare, and upon very extraordinary occasions that such be
admitted.
I would therefore have this society wholly composed of gentlemen;
whereof twelve to be of the nobility, if possible, and twelve
private gentlemen, and a class of twelve to be left open for mere
merit, let it be found in who or what sort it would, which should
lie as the crown of their study, who have done something eminent to
deserve it. The voice of this society should be sufficient
authority for the usage of words, and sufficient also to expose the
innovations of other men's fancies; they should preside with a sort
of judicature over the learning of the age, and have liberty to
correct and censure the exorbitance of writers, especially of
translators. The reputation of this society would be enough to make
them the allowed judges of style and language, and no author would
have the impudence to coin without their authority. Custom, which
is now our best authority for words, would always have its original
here, and not be allowed without it. There should be no more
occasion to search for derivations and constructions, and 'twould be
as criminal then to coin words as money.
The exercises of this society would be lectures on the English
tongue, essays on the nature, original, usage, authorities, and
differences of words, or the propriety, parity, and cadence of
style, and of the politeness and manner in writing; reflections upon
irregular usages, and corrections of erroneous customs in words;
and, in short, everything that would appear necessary to the
bringing our English tongue to a due perfection, and our gentlemen
to a capacity of writing like themselves; to banish pride and
pedantry, and silence the impudence and impertinence of young
authors, whose ambition is to be known, though it be by their folly.
I ask leave here for a thought or two about that inundation custom
has made upon our language and discourse by familiar swearing; and I
place it here, because custom has so far prevailed in this foolish
vice that a man's discourse is hardly agreeable without it; and some
have taken upon them to say it is pity it should not be lawful, it
is such a grace in a man's speech, and adds so much vigour to his
language.
I desire to be understood right, and that by swearing I mean all
those cursory oaths, curses, execrations, imprecations,
asseverations, and by whatsoever other names they are distinguished,
which are used in vehemence of discourse, in the mouths almost of
all men more or less, of what sort soever.
I am not about to argue anything of their being sinful and unlawful,
as forbid by divine rules; let the parson alone to tell you that,
who has, no question, said as much to as little purpose in this case
as in any other. But I am of the opinion that there is nothing so
impertinent, so insignificant, so senseless, and foolish as our
vulgar way of discourse when mixed with oaths and curses, and I
would only recommend a little consideration to our gentlemen, who
have sense and wit enough, and would be ashamed to speak nonsense in
other things, but value themselves upon their parts, I would but ask
them to put into writing the commonplaces of their discourse, and
read them over again, and examine the English, the cadence, the
grammar of them; then let then turn them into Latin, or translate
them into any other language, and but see what a jargon and
confusion of speech they make together.
Swearing, that lewdness of the tongue, that scum and excrement of
the mouth, is of all vices the most foolish and senseless. It makes
a man's conversation unpleasant, his discourse fruitless, and his
language nonsense.
It makes conversation unpleasant, at least to those who do not use
the same foolish way of discourse, and, indeed, is an affront to all
the company who swear not as he does; for if I swear and curse in
company I either presume all the company likes it or affront them
who do not.
Then it is fruitless; for no man is believed a jot the more for all
the asseverations, damnings, and swearings he makes. Those who are
used to it themselves do not believe a man the more because they
know they are so customary that they signify little to bind a man's
intention, and they who practise them not have so mean an opinion of
those that do as makes them think they deserve no belief.
Then, they are the spoilers and destroyers of a man's discourse, and
turn it into perfect nonsense; and to make it out I must descend a
little to particulars, and desire the reader a little to foul his
mouth with the brutish, sordid, senseless expressions which some
gentlemen call polite English, and speaking with a grace.
&nbs
p; Some part of them indeed, though they are foolish enough, as effects
of a mad, inconsiderate rage, are yet English; as when a man swears
he will do this or, that, and it may be adds, "God damn him he
will;" that is, "God damn him if he don't." This, though it be
horrid in another sense, yet may be read in writing, and is English:
but what language is this?
"Jack, God damn me, Jack, how dost do? How hast thou done this long
time, by God?" And then they kiss; and the other, as lewd as
himself, goes on:-
"Dear Tom, I am glad to see thee with all my heart, let me die.
Come, let us go take a bottle, we must not part so; pr'ythee let's
go and be drunk by God."
This is some of our new florid language, and the graces and
delicacies of style, which if it were put into Latin, I would fain
know which is the principal verb.
But for a little further remembrance of this impertinence, go among
the gamesters, and there nothing is more frequent than, "God damn
the dice," or "God damn the bowls."
Among the sportsmen it is, "God damn the hounds," when they are at a
fault; or, "God damn the horse," if he baulks a leap. They call men
"sons of -," and "dogs," and innumerable instances may be given of
the like gallantry of language, grown now so much a custom.
It is true, custom is allowed to be our best authority for words,
and it is fit it should be so; but reason must be the judge of sense
in language, and custom can never prevail over it. Words, indeed,
like ceremonies in religion, may be submitted to the magistrate; but
sense, like the essentials, is positive, unalterable, and cannot be
submitted to any jurisdiction; it is a law to itself; it is ever the
same; even an Act of Parliament cannot alter it.
Words, and even usages in style, may be altered by custom, and
proprieties in speech differ according to the several dialects of
the country, and according to the different manner in which several
languages do severally express themselves.
But there is a direct signification of words, or a cadence in
expression, which we call speaking sense; this, like truth, is
sullen and the same, ever was and will be so, in what manner, and in
what language soever it is expressed. Words without it are only
noise, which any brute can make as well as we, and birds much
better; for words without sense make but dull music. Thus a man may
speak in words, but perfectly unintelligible as to meaning; he may
talk a great deal, but say nothing. But it is the proper position
of words, adapted to their significations, which makes them
intelligible, and conveys the meaning of the speaker to the
understanding of the hearer; the contrary to which we call nonsense;
and there is a superfluous crowding in of insignificant words, more
than are needful to express the thing intended, and this is
impertinence; and that again, carried to an extreme, is ridiculous.
Thus when our discourse is interlined with needless oaths, curses,
and long parentheses of imprecations, and with some of very indirect
signification, they become very impertinent; and these being run to
the extravagant degree instanced in before, become perfectly
ridiculous and nonsense, and without forming it into an argument, it
appears to be nonsense by the contradictoriness; and it appears
impertinent by the insignificancy of the expression.
After all, how little it becomes a gentleman to debauch his mouth
with foul language, I refer to themselves in a few particulars.
This vicious custom has prevailed upon good manners too far; but yet
there are some degrees to which it has not yet arrived.
As, first, the worst slaves to this folly will neither teach it to
nor approve of it in their children. Some of the most careless will
indeed negatively teach it by not reproving them for it; but sure no
man ever ordered his children to be taught to curse or swear.
