At Babylon, the itch of being singular, is like an epidemical disease. It is pretty well known wherein the Babylonians are alike, but it would be the work of an age, to say wherein they differ. Every one distinguishes himself by some remarkable stroke. Hence comes the mode of portraits, and the facility of drawing them. Draw them by fancy, you are sure they will meet with a likeness; draw them after nature, you will never fail of originals. There are some for the pulpit, for the use of the orators who want grace, there are some for the theatre, for the use of poets who want genius, there are some for writings of all kinds, for the use of the authors who want ideas. The most troublesome of all the itches produced by these insects, is the itch of being known. Thou canst not conceive, what efforts are made by all the men stung with this itch. I say all the men; for, who has not a view to reputation and fame? The Artisan shows his work, the Gamester his calculations, the Poet his images, the Orator his grand strokes, the Scholar his discoveries, the General his campaigns, the Minister his schemes. And even he that sees the nothingness of this chimæra, still contemplates its charms, and sighs after it: Just so a lover, with a troubled heart, strives to abandon a faithless mistress, from whom he cannot bear to part. What designs, what efforts of imagination to make one’s self talked of! how many things attempted and dropt! what hopes, fears, cares, and follies of every kind! [Illustration] CHAP. VIII. COMPENSATIONS. What you tell me (says I) is very extraordinary. But I cannot see why the elementary spirits raise and cultivate this plant with so great care. They who wish us so much good, in this respect do us very little. To behold men, stung to the quick, acting like madmen, losing their senses for chimeras, is a thing, in my opinion, deserving pity; but perhaps it may be an amusement to the elementary spirits.