Yet my resentment has not wrought as far, but that I have followed Chaucer in his character of a holy man, and have enlarged on that subject with some pleasure, reserving to myself the right, if I shall think fit hereafter, to describe another sort of priests, such as are more easily to be found than the Good Parson; such as have given the last blow to Christianity in this age, by a practice so contrary to their doctrine.  But this will keep cold till another time.  In the mean while, I take up Chaucer where I left him.  He must have been a man of a most wonderful comprehensive nature, because, as it has been truly observed of him, he has taken into the compass of his Canterbury tales the various manners and humours (as we now call them) of the whole English nation, in his age.  Not a single character has escaped him.  All his pilgrims are severally distinguished from each other; and not only in their inclinations, but in their very physiognomies and persons.  Baptista Porta could not have described their natures better, than by the marks which the poet gives them.  The matter and manner of their tales, and of their telling, are so suited to their different edncations, humours, and callings, that each of them would be improper in any other mouth.  Even the grave and serious characters are distinguished by their several sorts of gravity:  their discourses are such as belong to their age, their calling, and their breeding; such as are becoming of them, and of them only.  Some of his persons are vicious, and some virtuous; some are unlearned, or (as Chaucer calls them) lewd, and some are learned.  Even the ribaldry of the low characters is different.  The Reeve, the Miller, and the Cook, are several men, and distinguished from each other, as much as the mincing Lady Prioress, and the broad-speaking gap-toothed Wife of Bath.  But enough of this:  there is such a variety of game springing up before me, that I am distracted in my choice, and know not which to follow.  ’Tis sufficient to say, according to the proverb, that here is God’s plenty.  We have our forefathers and great-granddames all before us, as they were in Chaucer’s days:  their general characters are still remaining in mankind, and even in England, though they are called by other names than those of monks and friars, and chanons, and lady abbesses, and nuns:  for mankind is ever the same, and nothing lost out of nature, though every thing is altered.  May I have leave to do myself the justice, (since my enemies will do me none, and are so far from granting me to be a good poet, that they will not allow me so much as to be a Christian, or a moral man); may I have leave, I say, to inform my reader, that I have confined my choice to such tales of Chaucer as savour nothing of immodesty.  If I had desired more to please than to instruct, the Reeve, the Miller, the Shipman, the Merchants, the Sumner, and above all the Wife of Bath, in the prologue to her tale, would have procured me as many friends and readers as there are beaux and ladies