_Wit_. And as sure a sign of poverty as the gout of
riches. 'Sdeath! in an age of learning and true politeness, where a
man might succeed by his merit, there would be some encouragement. But
now, when party and prejudice carry all before them; when learning is
decried, wit not understood; when the theatres are puppet-shows, and
the comedians ballad-singers; when fools lead the town, would a man
think to thrive by his wit? If you must write, write nonsense, write
operas, write Hurlothrumbos, set up an oratory and preach nonsense,
and you may meet with encouragement enough. Be profane, be scurrilous,
be immodest: if you would receive applause, deserve to receive
sentence at the Old Bailey; and if you would ride in a coach, deserve
to ride in a cart.

_Luck_. You are warm, my friend.

_Wit_. It is because I am your friend. I cannot bear to hear the
man I love ridiculed by fools--by idiots. To hear a fellow who, had he
been born a Chinese, had starved for want of genius to have been even
the lowest mechanick, toss up his empty noddle with an affected
disdain of what he has not understood; and women abusing what they
have neither seen nor heard, from an unreasonable prejudice to an
honest fellow whom they have not known. If thou wilt write against all
these reasons get a patron, be pimp to some worthless man of quality,
write panegyricks on him, flatter him with as many virtues as he has
vices. Then, perhaps, you will engage his lordship, his lordship
engages the town on your side, and then write till your arms ake,
sense or nonsense, it will all go down.

_Luck_. Thou art too satirical on mankind. It is possible to