trines of a set of simple fellows, called, in derision, sages or philosophers, have endeavoured, as much as possible, to confound the ideas of greatness and goodness; whereas no two things can possibly be more distinct from each other; for greatness consists in bringing all manner of mischief on mankind, and goodness in removing it from them. It seems, therefore, very unlikely that the same person should possess them both; and yet nothing is more usual with writers, who may find instances of greatness in their favourite hero, than to make him a compliment of goodness into the bargain; and this, without considering that by such means they destroy the great perfection called uniformity of character. In the histories of Alexander and Cæsar, we are frequently, and indeed impertinently, reminded of their benevolence and generosity, of their clemency and kindness. When the former had with fire and sword overrun a vast empire, had destroyed the lives of an immense number of innocent wretches, had scattered ruin and desolation like a whirlwind, we are told, as an example of his clemency, that he did not cut the throat of an old woman, and ravish her daughters, but was content with only undoing them. And when the mighty Cæsar, with wonderful greatness of mind, had destroyed the liberties of his country, and with all the means of fraud and force, had placed himself at the head of his equals, had corrupted and enslaved the greatest people whom the sun ever saw, we are reminded, as an evidence of his generosity, of his largesses to his followers and tools, by whose means he had accomplished his purpose, and by whose assistance he was to establish it.

Now, who doth not see that such sneaking qualities as these are rather to be bewailed as imperfections, than admired as ornaments, in these great men; rather obscuring their glory, and holding them back in their race to greatness; indeed, unworthy the end for which they seem to have come into the world, viz. of perpetrating vast and mighty mischief?

We hope our reader will have reason justly to acquit us of any such confounding ideas in the following pages; in which, as we are to record the actions of a great man, so we have no where mentioned any spark of goodness which had discovered itself either faintly in him, or more glaringly in any other person, but as a meanness and imperfection, disqualifying them for undertakings which lead to honour and esteem among men.

As our hero had as little as perhaps is to be found of that meanness, indeed only enough to make him partaker of the imperfection of humanity, instead of the perfection of diabolism, we have ventured to call him the THE GREAT; nor do we doubt but our reader, when he hath perused his story, will concur with us in allowing him that title.

CHAP. II.

Giving an account of as many of our hero's Ancestors as can be gathered out of the rubbish of antiquity, which hath been carefully sifted for that purpose.

It is the custom of all biographers, at their entrance into their work, to step a little backwards, (as far, indeed, generally, as they are able,) and to trace up their hero, as the ancients did the river Nile, till an incapacity of proceed ing higher puts an end to their search.

What first gave rise to this method, is somewhat difficult to determine. Sometimes I have thought that the hero's ancestors have been introduced as foils to himself. Again I have imagined it might be to obviate a suspicion that such extraordinary personages were not produced in the ordinary course of nature; and may have proceeded from the author's fear, that if we were not told who their fathers were, they might be in danger, like Prince Prettyman, of being supposed to have had none. Lastly, and perhaps more truly, I have conjectured that the design of the biographer hath been no more than to shew his great learning and knowledge of antiquity. A design to which the world hath probably owed many notable discoveries, and, indeed, most of the labours of our antiquarians.

But whatever original this custom had, it is now too well established to be disputed. I shall therefore conform to it in the strictest manner.

Mr Jonathan Wild, or Wyld, then, (for he himself did not always agree in one method of spelling his name), was descended from the great Wolfstan Wild, who came over with Hengist, and distinguished himself very eminently at that famous festival, where the Britons were so treacherously murdered by the Saxons; for when the word was given, Nemet eour sazes, i. e. Take out your swords, this gentleman, being a little hard of hearing, mistook the sound for Nemet her sacs, Take out their purses; instead, therefore, of applying to the throat, he immediately applied to the pocket of his guest, and contented himself with taking all that he had, without attempting his life.

The next ancestor of our hero who was remarkably eminent, was Wild, surnamed Langfanger, or Longfinger. He flourished in the reign of Henry III., and was strictly attached to Hubert de Burgh, whose friendship he was recommended to by his great excellence in an art of which Hubert was himself the inventer. He could, without the knowledge of the proprietor, with great ease and dexterity, draw forth a man's purse from any part of his gar ment where it was deposited, and hence he derived his surname. This gentleman was the

first of his family who had the honour to suffer for the good of his country, on whom a wit of that time made the following epitaph:

O, shame o' Justice, Wild is hang'd,
For thatten he a pocket fang'd;
While safe old Hubert, and his gang,
Doth pocket o' the nation fang.

Langfanger left a son named Edward, whom he had carefully instructed in the art for which he himself was so famous. This Edward had a grandson who served as a volunteer under the famous Sir John Falstaff; and by his gallant demeanour so recommended himself to his captain, that he would have certainly been promoted by him, had Harry V. kept his word with his old companion.

After the death of Edward, the family remained in some obscurity down to the reign of Charles I., when James Wild distinguished himself on both sides the question in the Civil Wars, passing from one to t'other, as Heaven seemed to declare itself in favour of either party. At the end of the war, James not being rewarded according to his merits, as is usually the case of such impartial persons, he associated himself with a brave man of those times, whose name was Hind, and declared open war with both parties. He was successful in several actions, and spoiled many of the enemy; till at length, being overpowered and taken, he was, contrary to the law of arms, put basely and cowardly to death, by a combination between twelve men of the enemy's party, who, after some consultation, unanimously agreed on the said murder.

This Edward took to wife Rebecca, the daughter of the above-mentioned John Hind, Esq.; by whom he had issue, John, Edward, Thomas, and Jonathan, and three daughters, viz. Grace, Charity, and Honour. John followed the fortunes of his father, and suffering with him, left no issue. Edward was so remarkable for his compassionate temper, that he spent his life in soliciting the causes of the distressed captives in Newgate; and is reported to have held a strict friendship with an eminent divine, who solicited the spiritual causes of the said captives. He married Editha, daughter and coheiress of Geoffry Snap, Gent. who long enjoyed an office under the high sheriff of London and Middlesex, by which, with great reputation, he acquired a handsome fortune; by her he had no issue. Thomas went very young abroad to one of our American colonies, and hath not been since heard of. As for the daughters, Grace was married to a merchant of Yorkshire, who dealt in horses. Charity took to husband an eminent gentleman, whose name I cannot learn; but who was famous for so friendly a disposition, that he was bail for above a hundred persons in one year. He had likewise the remarkable hu

mour of walking in Westminster-hall with a straw in his shoe. Honour, the youngest, died unmarried. She lived many years in this town, was a great frequenter of plays, and used to be remarkable for distributing oranges to all who would accept of them.

Jonathan married Elizabeth, daughter of Scragg Hollow of Hockley-in-the-Hole, Esq., and by her had Jonathan, who is the illustrious subject of these memoirs.

CHAP. III.

The birth, parentage, and education of Mr Jonathan Wild the Great.

It is observable that nature seldom produces any one who is afterwards to act a notable part on the stage of life, but she gives some warning of her intention; and as the dramatic poet generally prepares the entry of every considerable character with a solemn narrative, or at least a great flourish of drums and trumpets; so doth this our Alma Mater, by some shrewd hints, pre-admonish us of her intention, giving us warning as it were, and crying,

-Venienti occurrite morbo.

Thus Astyages, who was the grandfather of Cyrus, dreamed that his daughter was broughtto-bed of vine, whose branches overspread all Asia; and Hecuba, while big with Paris, dreamed that she was delivered of a firebrand, that set all Troy in flames; so did the mother of our Great Man, while she was with child of him, dream that she was enjoyed in the night by the gods Mercury and Priapus. This dream puzzled all the learned astrologers of her time, seeming to imply in it a contradiction; Mercury being the god of ingenuity, and Priapus the terror of those who practised it. What made this dream the more wonderful, and perhaps the true cause of its being remembered, was a very extraordinary circumstance, sufficiently denoting something preternatural in it; for though she had never heard even the name of either of these gods, she repeated these very words in the morning, with only a small mistake of the quantity of the latter, which she chose to call Priapus instead of Priapus; and her husband swore, that though he might possibly have named Mercury to her, (for he had heard of such a heathen god), he never in his life could have anywise put her in mind of the other deity, with whom he had no acquaintance

Another remarkable incident was, that during her whole pregnancy she constantly longed for every thing she saw; nor could be satisfied with her wish unless she enjoyed it clandestinely. And as nature, by true and accurate observers,

is remarked to give us no appetites without furnishing us with the means of gratifying them, so had she at this time a most marvellous gluti nous quality attending her fingers, to which, as to birdlime, every thing closely adhered that she handled.

To omit other stories, some of which may be perhaps the growth of superstition, we proceed to the birth of our hero, who made his first appearance on this great theatre the very day when the plague first broke out in 1665. Some say his mother was delivered of him in an house of an orbicular or round form in Covent Garden; but of this we are not certain. He was some years afterwards baptized by the famous Mr Titus

Oates.

Nothing very remarkable passed in his years of infancy, save, that as the letters Th are the most difficult of pronunciation, and the last which a child attains to the utterance of, so they were the first that came with any readiness from young Master Wild. Nor must we omit the early indications which he gave of the sweetness of his temper; for though he was by no means to be terrified into compliance, yet might he by a sugar-plum be brought to your purpose; indeed, to say the truth, he was to be bribed to any thing, which made many say, he was certainly born to be a Great Man.

He was scarce settled at school before he gave marks of his lofty and aspiring temper, and was regarded by all his school-fellows with that deference which men generally pay to those superior geniuses who will exact it of them. If an orchard was to be robbed, Wild was consulted; and though he was himself seldom concerned in the execution of the design, yet was he always concerter of it, and treasurer of the booty; some little part of which he would now and then, with wonderful generosity, bestow on those who took it. He was generally very secret on these occasions; but if any offered to plunder of his own head, without acquainting Mr Wild, and making a deposit of the booty, he was sure to have an information against him lodged with the schoolmaster, and to be severely punished for his pains.

He discovered so little attention to schoollearning, that his master, who was a very wise and worthy man, soon gave over all care and trouble on that account, and acquainting his parents that their son proceeded extremely well in his studies, he permitted his pupil to follow his own inclinations, perceiving they led him to nobler pursuits than the sciences, which are generally acknowledged to be a very unprofitable study, and indeed greatly to hinder the advancement of men in the world. But though Master Wild was not esteemed the readiest at making

his exercise, he was universally allowed to be the most dexterous at stealing it of all his schoolfellows; being never detected in such furtive compositions, nor indeed in any other exercitations of his great talents, which all inclined the same way, but once, when he had laid violent hands on a book called Gradus ad Parnassum, i. e. A step towards Parnassus; on which account his master, who was a man of most wonderful wit and sagacity, is said to have told him, he wished it might not prove in the event Gradus ad Patibulum, i. e. A step towards the gallows.

But though he would not give himself the pains requisite to acquire a competent sufficiency in the learned languages, yet did he readily listen with attention to others, especially when they translated the classical authors to him; nor was he in the least backward, at all such times, to express his approbation. He was wonderfully pleased with that passage in the eleventh Iliad, where Achilles is said to have bound two sons of Priam upon a mountain, and afterwards to have released them for a sum of money. This was, he said, alone sufficient to refute those who affected a contempt for the wisdom of the ancients, and an undeniable testimony of the great antiquity of priggism. He was ravished with the account which Nestor gives in the same book, of the rich booty which he bore off (i. e. stole) from the Eleans. He was desirous of having this often repeated to him, and at the end of every repetition he constantly fetched a deep sigh, and said, " It was a glorious booty."

*

When the story of Cacus was read to him out of the eighth Eneid, he generously pitied the unhappy fate of that great man, to whom he thought Hercules much too severe. One of his school-fellows commending the dexterity of drawing the oxen backwards by their tails into his den, he smiled, and with some disdain, said, "He could have taught him a better way.”

He was a passionate admirer of heroes, particularly of Alexander the Great, between whom and the late King of Sweden he would frequently draw parallels. He was much delighted with the accounts of the Czar's retreat from the latter, who carried off the inhabitants of great cities to people his own country. "This," he said, was not once thought of by Alexander;" but added, " perhaps he did not want them.”

Happy had it been for him, if he had confined himself to this sphere; but his chief, if not only blemish was, that he would sometimes, from an humility in his nature too pernicious to true greatness, condescend to an intimacy with infe rior things and persons. Thus the Spanish Rogue was his favourite book, and the Cheats of Scapin his favourite play.

The young gentleman being now at the age of seventeen, his father, from a foolish prejudice to our universities, and out of a false, as well as excessive regard to his morals, brought his son to town, where he resided with him till he was of an age to travel. Whilst he was here, all imaginable care was taken of his instruction, his father endeavouring his utmost to inculcate principles of honour and gentility into his son.

CHAP. IV.

Mr Wild's first entrance into the world. His acquaintance with the Count La Ruse.

AN accident happened soon after his arrival in town, which almost saved the father his whole labour on this head, and provided Mr Wild a better tutor than any after care or expence could have furnished him with. The old gentleman, it seems, was a FOLLOWER of the fortunes of Mr Snap, son of Mr Geoffry Snap, whom we have before mentioned to have enjoyed a reputable office under the sheriff of London and Middlesex, the daughter of which Geoffry had intermarried with the Wilds. Mr Snap the younger, being thereto well warrant ed, had laid violent hands on, or, as the vulgar express it, arrested one Count La Ruse, a man of considerable figure in those days, and had confined him to his own house, till he could find two seconds who would, in a formal manner, give their words, that the Count should, at a certain day and place appointed, answer all that one Thomas Thimble, a tailor, had to say to him; which Thomas Thimble, it seems, alleged that the Count had, according to the law of the realm, made over his body to him, as a security for some suits of clothes to him delivered by the said Thomas Thimble. Now, as the Count, though perfectly a man of honour, could not immediately find these seconds, he was obliged for some time to reside at Mr Snap's house; for it seems the law of the land is, that whoever owes another 101., or indeed 21., may be, on the oath of that person, immediately taken up and carried away from his own house and family, and kept abroad till he is made to owe 501. whether he will or no; for which he is, perhaps, afterwards obliged to lie in gaol; and all these without any trial had, or any other evidence of the debt than the abovesaid oath, which if untrue, as it often happens, you have no remedy against the perjurer; he was, forsooth! mistaken.

But though Mr Snap would not (as perhaps by the nice rules of honour he was obliged) discharge the Count on his parole; yet did he not, as by the strict rules of law he was enabled, confine him to his chamber. The Count had his liberty of the whole house, and Mr Snap, using only the precaution of keeping his doors

well locked and barred, took his prisoner's word that he would not go forth.

Mr Snap had by his second lady two daughters, who were now in the bloom of their youth and beauty. These young ladies, like damsels in romance, compassionated the captive Count, and endeavoured by all means to make his confinement less irksome to him; which, though they were both very beautiful, they could not attain by any other way so effectually as by engaging with him at cards, in which contentions, as will appear hereafter, the Count was greatly skilful.

As whisk and swabbers was the game then in the chief vogue, they were obliged to look for a fourth person, in order to make up their parties. Mr Snap himself would sometimes relax his mind from the violent fatigues of his employment by these recreations; and sometimes a neighbouring young gentleman or lady came in to their assistance; but the most frequent guest was young Mr Wild, who had been educated from his infancy with the Miss Snaps, and was, by all the neighbours, allotted for the husband of Miss Tishy, or Lætitia, the younger of the two; for though, being his cousin-german, she was, perhaps, in the eye of a strict conscience, somewhat too nearly related to him, yet the old people on both sides, though sufficiently scrupulous in nice matters, agreed to overlook this objection.

Men of great genius as easily discover one another as free-masons can. It was, therefore, no wonder that the Count soon conceived an inclination to an intimacy with our young hero, whose vast abilities could not be concealed from one of the Count's discernment; for though this latter was so expert at his cards, that he was proverbially said to play the whole gume, he was no match for Mr Wild, who, inexperienced as he was, notwithstanding all the art, the dexterity, and often the fortune of his adversary, never failed to send him away from the table with less in his pocket than he brought to it, for indeed Langfanger himself could not have extracted a purse with more ingenuity than our young hero.

His hands made frequent visits to the Count's pocket, before the latter had entertained any suspicion of him, imputing the several losses he sustained rather to the innocent and sprightly frolic of Miss Doshy, or Theodosia; with which, as she indulged him with little innocent freedoms about her person in return, he thought himself obliged to be contented. But one night, when Wild imagined the Count asleep, he made so unguarded an attack upon him, that the other caught him in the fact: However, he did not think proper to acquaint him with the discovery he had made, but preventing him from any booty at that time, he only took care for the future to button his pockets, and to pack the cards with double industry.

So far was this detection from causing any quarrel between these two prigs, that in reality it recommended them to each other; for a wise man, that is to say a rogue, considers a trick in life, as a gamester doth a trick at play. It sets him on his guard; but he admires the dexterity of him who plays it. These, therefore, and many other such instances of ingenuity, operated so violently on the Count, that notwithstanding the disparity which age, title, and, above all, dress, had set between them, he resolved to enter into an acquaintance with Wild. This soon produced a perfect intimacy, and that a friendship, which had a longer duration than is common to that passion, between persons who only propose to themselves the common advantages of eating, drinking, whoring, or borrow ing money, which ends, as they soon fail, so doth the friendship founded upon them. Mutual interest, the greatest of all purposes, was the cement of this alliance, which nothing of consequence but superior interest was capable of dissolving.

CHAP. V.

A dialogue between young Mr Wild and Count La Ruse, which, having extended to the rejoinder, had a very quiet, easy, and natural conclusion.

ONE evening after the Miss Snaps were retired to rest, the Count thus addressed himself to young Wild: "You cannot, I apprehend, Mr Wild, be such a stranger to your own great capacity, as to be surprised when I tell you, I have often viewed with a mixture of astonishment and concern, your shining qualities confined to a sphere where they can never reach the eyes of those who would introduce them properly into the world, and raise you to an eminence where you may blaze out to the admiration of all men. I assure you, I am pleased with my captivity, when I reflect, I am likely to owe to it an acquaintance, and I hope friendship, with the greatest genius of my age; and, what is still more, when I indulge my vanity with a prospect of drawing from obscurity, pardon the expression, such talents as were, I believe, never before like to have been buried in it; for I make no question, but, at my discharge from confinement, which will now soon happen, I shall be able to introduce you into company where you may reap the advantage of your superior parts.

"I will bring you acquainted, sir, with those, who, as they are capable of setting a true value on such qualifications, so they will have it both in their power and inclination to prefer you for

them. Such an introduction is the only advantage you want, without which your merit might be your misfortune; for those abilities which would entitle you to honour and profit in a superior station, may render you only obnoxious to danger and disgrace in a lower.”

Mr Wild answered :—" Sir, I am not insensible of my obligations to you, as well for the over-value you have set on my small abilities, as for the kindness you express in offering to introduce me among my superiors. I must own, my father hath often persuaded me to push myself into the company of my betters; but, to say the truth, I have an awkward pride in my nature, which is better pleased with being at the head of the lowest class, than at the bottom of the highest. Permit me to say, though the idea may be somewhat coarse, I had rather stand on the summit of a dunghill, than at the bottom of a hill in paradise. I have always thought it signifies little into what rank of life I am thrown, provided I make a great figure therein; and should be as well satisfied with exerting my talents well at the head of a small party or gang, as in the command of a mighty army; for I am far from agreeing with you, that great parts are often lost in a low situation; on the contrary, I am convinced it is impossible they should be lost. I have often persuaded myself, that there were no fewer than a thousand in Alexander's troops capable of performing what Alexander himself did.

"But because such spirits were not elected or destined to an imperial command, are we therefore to imagine they came off without a booty? or that they contented themselves with the share in common with their comrades? Surely no. In civil life, doubtless, the same genius, the same endowments, have often composed the statesman and the prig; for so we call what the vulgar name a thief. The same parts, the same actions, often promote men to the head of superior societies, which raise them to the head of lower; and where is the essential difference, if the one ends on Tower-hill, and the other at Tyburn? Hath the block any preference to the gallows, or the axe to the halter, but what was given them by the ill-guided judgment of men? You will pardon me, therefore, if I am not so hastily inflamed with the common outside of things, nor join the general opinion in preferring one state to another. A guinea is as valuable in a leathern as in an embroidered purse; and a cod's head is a cod's head still, whether in a pewter or a silver dish."

The Count replied as follows:-" What you have now said doth not lessen my idea of your capacity, but confirms my opinion of the ill effects of bad and low company. Can any man doubt, whether it is better to be a great states