And of this I can’t have the least shadow of doubt, inasmuch as I have been told by very good authority, it is somewhere or other laid down as a rule “That whenever the law doth give any thing to one, it giveth impliedly whatever is necessary for taking and enjoying the same[1].”  Now, I would gladly know what enjoyment I, or any lady in the kingdom, can have of a coach without horses?  The answer is obvious—­None at all!  For, as Serjeant Catlyne very wisely observes, “though a coach has wheels, to the end it may thereby and by virtue thereof be enabled to move; yet in point of utility it may as well have none, if they are not put in motion by means of its vital parts, that is, the horses.”

And, therefore, Sir, I humbly hope you and the learned in the law will be of opinion, that two certain animals, or quadruped creatures, commonly called or known by the name of horses, ought to be annexed to, and go along with, the coach.  SUKEY SAVECHARGES[2]

[1] Quando lex aliquid alicui concedit, concedere videtur et id, sine
    quo res ipsa esse non potest.  Coke on Littleton, 56. a.—­ED.

[2] An unknown correspondent.

No. 55.  SATURDAY, MAY 5, 1759.

TO THE IDLER.

Mr. Idler,

I have taken the liberty of laying before you my complaint, and of desiring advice or consolation with the greater confidence, because I believe many other writers have suffered the same indignities with myself, and hope my quarrel will be regarded by you and your readers as the common cause of literature.

Having been long a student, I thought myself qualified in time to become an author.  My inquiries have been much diversified and far extended, and not finding my genius directing me by irresistible impulse to any particular subject, I deliberated three years which part of knowledge to illustrate by my labours.  Choice is more often determined by accident than by reason:  I walked abroad one morning with a curious lady, and, by her inquiries and observations, was incited to write the natural history of the country in which I reside.

Natural history is no work for one that loves his chair or his bed.  Speculation may be pursued on a soft couch, but nature must be observed in the open air.  I have collected materials with indefatigable pertinacity.  I have gathered glow-worms in the evening, and snails in the morning; I have seen the daisy close and open, I have heard the owl shriek at midnight, and hunted insects in the heat of noon.

Seven years I was employed in collecting animals and vegetables, and then found that my design was yet imperfect.  The subterranean treasures of the place had been passed unobserved, and another year was to be spent in mines and coal-pits.  What I had already done supplied a sufficient motive to do more.  I acquainted myself with the black inhabitants of metallick caverns, and, in defiance of damps and floods, wandered through the gloomy labyrinths, and gathered fossils from every fissure,