Narrative and Miscellaneous PapersDe Quincey, Thomas
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Narrative and Miscellaneous Papers
De Quincey, Thomas
English essays; English fiction
and the most famous in the whole jewel-case, sorry am I to confess,
was nearly stolen from the Bishop, not by any Greek, but by an English
writer, viz., Goldsmith, who must have been dying about the time that
his Excellency, the diplomatist, had the goodness to be born. That
famous _mot_ about language, as a gift made to man for the purpose of
_concealing_ his thoughts, is lurking in Goldsmith's Essays. Think of
_that!_ Already, in his innocent childhood, whilst the Bishop was in
petticoats, and almost before he had begun to curse and to swear plainly
in French, an Irish vagabond had attempted to swindle him out of that
famous witticism which has since been as good as a life-annuity to the
venerable knave's literary fame.] sometimes, for instance in Hierocles,
sometimes in Diogenes Lærtius, in Plutarch, or in Athenæus. Now the
thing you know claimed by so many people, could not belong to all of
them: _all_ of them could not be the inventors. Logic and common sense
unite in showing us that it must have belonged to the moderns, who had
clearly been hustled and robbed by the ancients, so much more
likely to commit a robbery than Christians, they being all
Gentiles--Pagans--Heathen dogs. What do I infer from this? Why, that
upon _any_ solution of the case, hardly one worthy saying can be
mentioned, hardly one jest, pun, or sarcasm, which has not been the
occasion and subject of many falsehoods--as having been _au-(and
men)-daciously_ transferred from generation to generation, sworn to in
every age as this man's property, or that man's, by people that must
have known they were lying, until you retire from the investigation with
a conviction, that under any system of chronology, the science of lying
is the only one that has never drooped. Date from _Anno Domini_, or
from the Julian era, patronize Olympiads, or patronize (as _I_ do, from
misanthropy, because nobody else _will_) the era of Nabonassar,--no
matter, upon every road, thicker than mile-stones, you see records
of human mendacity, or (which is much worse, in my opinion,) of human
sympathy with other people's mendacity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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