ble prejudice) to _reserve_ till we are more fully acquainted
with the whole character of _Falstaff_; and I shall therefore hope that
the reader will not for a time advert to it, or to the jests of the Prince
or of _Poins_ in consequence of that unlucky adventure.

In drawing out the parts of _Falstaff_'s character, with which I shall
begin this Inquiry, I shall take the liberty of putting Constitutional
bravery into his composition; but the reader will be pleased to consider
what I shall say in that respect as spoken hypothetically for the present,
to be retained, or discharged out of it, as he shall finally determine.

To me then it appears that the leading quality in _Falstaff_'s character,
and that from which all the rest take their colour, is a high degree of
wit and humour, accompanied with great natural vigour and alacrity of
mind. This quality, so accompanied, led him probably very early into life,
and made him highly acceptable to society; so acceptable, as to make it
seem unnecessary for him to acquire any other virtue. Hence, perhaps, his
continued debaucheries and dissipations of every kind.--He seems, by
nature, to have had a mind free of malice or any evil principle; but he
never took the trouble of acquiring any good one. He found himself
esteemed and beloved with all his faults; nay _for_ his faults, which were
all connected with humour, and for the most part grew out of it. As he
had, possibly, no vices but such as he thought might be openly professed,
so he appeared more dissolute thro' ostentation. To the character of wit
and humour, to which all his other qualities seem to have conformed
themselves, he appears to have added a very necessary support, _that_ of
the profession of a _Soldier_. He had from nature, as I presume to say, a
spirit of boldness and enterprise; which in a Military age, tho'
employment was only occasional, kept him always above contempt, secured
him an honourable reception among the Great, and suited best both his
particular mode of humour and of vice. Thus living continually in society,
nay even in Taverns, and indulging himself, and being indulged by others,
in every debauchery; drinking, whoring, gluttony, and ease; assuming a
liberty of fiction, necessary perhaps to his wit, and often falling into
falsity and lies, he seems to have set, by degrees, all sober reputation
at defiance; and finding eternal resources in his wit, he borrows, shifts,
defrauds, and even robs, without d