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ARTES
[1837
BSCIENTIA
LIBRARY
VERITAS
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
PLURIBUS
UHUM
TUEBOR
1
SI QUERIS PENINSULAM AMⱭNAM`
CIRCUMSPICE
GIFT OF
REGENT LLHUBBARD
Hubbard
Imag. Voy.
PR
3721
1755
Nos. Tale of a Tub
facing the Title
IS. Müller inv: del: et Sc:
11
THE
WORKS
O F
Jonathan Swift, D.D.
Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin,
Accurately revifed
In TWELVE VOLUMES,
Adorned with COPPER-PLATES;
WITH
Some Account of the AUTHOR'S LIFE,
AND
NOTES HISTORICAL and EXPLANATORY,
By JOHN HAWKESWORTH.
LONDON
Printed for C. BATHURST, C. DAVIS, C. HITCH
and L. HAWES, J. HODGES, R. and J. DODSLEY,
and W. BoWYER.
M DCC LV.
Rec.
Regent
qt!
t L. L
L. L. Hibbard
THE
9-17-1924
12 vols.
PREFACE.
T
HE Works of Dr. Jonathan Swift
were written and published at very
diſtant periods of his life, and had paſſed
through many editions before they were col-
lected into volumes, or diftinguished from
the productions of contemporary wits, with
whom he was known to aſſociate.
The Tale of a Tub, the Battle of the
Books, and the Fragment were first pub-
lifhed together in 1704, and the apology,
and the notes from Wotton were added in
1710; this edition the Dean revised a fhort
time before his understanding was impair-
ed, and his corrections will be found in
this impreffion.
*
Gulliver's Travels were first printed in
the year 1726, with fome alterations which
had been made by the perſon through whoſe
hands they were conveyed to the prefs, but
the original paffages were restored to the
Subfequent editions +.
* The corrected Copy is
now in the hands of Mr. Dean
Swift.
+ See the letter to Sympfon
and note, Vol. II.
A
Many
N
THE PREFACE.
Many other pieces both in profe and
verfe, which had been written between the
years 1691, and 1727, were then collected
and published by the Dean in conjunction with
Mr. Pope, Dr. Arbuthnot, and Mr. Gay,
under the title of Mifcellanies*; of all thefe
pieces, though they were intended to go down
to pofterity together, the dean was not the
author, as appeared by the title pages, but
they continued undiftinguished till 1742,
and then Mr. Pope, having new claffed
them, afcribed each performance among the
profe to its particular author in a table of
contents, but of the verfes be diftinguifbed
only the Dean's, by marking the rest with
an afteriſk.
In the year 1735, the pieces of which
the Dean was the author, were felected from
the miſcellany, and with Gulliver's Travels,
the Drapier's Letters, and fome other pieces
which were written upon particular occa-
fons in Ireland, were published by George
Falkener, at Dublin, in four volumes;
to theſe be afterwards added a fifth and a
*See the preface to Vol. III.
figned by the Dean and Mr.
Pope.
{
At all adventures, yours
and my name fhall ftand link-
ed friends to pofterity both in
verfe and profe.
Pope to Swift Mar. 23, 172.
fixth,
THE PREFACE
T
fixth, containing the Examiners, polite
Converfation, and fome other tracts, which
were foon followed by a feventh volume of
letters, and an eighth of pofthumous pieces.
i
In this collection, although printed in
Ireland, the tracts relating to that country,
and in particular the Drapier's Letters, are
thrown together in great confufion, and the
Tale of a Tub, the Battle of the Books,
and the Fragment, are not included.
In the edition which is now offered to the
publick, the Tale of a Tub, of which the
Dean's corrections fufficiently prove him to
have been the author, the Battle of the
Books, and the Fragment, make the first
volume; the fecond is Gulliver's Travels;
the Mifcellanies will be found in the third,
fourth, fifth, and fixth; and the contents
of the other volumes are divided into two
claffes, as relating to England or Ireland; as
to the arrangement of particular pieces in
each clafs, there were only three things that
feemed to deferve attention, or that could
direct the choice; that the verfe and profe
fhould be kept feparate; that the pofthumous
and doubtful pieces fhould not be mingled
with thoſe which the Dean is known to have
A 2
pub-
4
THE PREFACE.
publiſhed himself; and that those tracts
which are parts of a regular feries, and
illuftrate each other, fhould be ranged in
fucceffion without the intervention of other
matter: Such are the Drapier's Letters,
and ſome other papers published upon the
fame occafion, which have not only in the
Irifh edition, but in every other, been fo
mixed as to mifreprefent fome facts and
obfcure others: Such alfo are the tracts on
the Sacramental Teft, which are now firſt
put together in regular order, as they ſhould
always be read, by thofe who would fee their
whole ftrength and propriety.
As to the pieces which have no connexion
with each other, fome have thought that the
ferious and the comic fhould have been put
in feparate claffes; but this is not the me-
thod which was taken by the Dean himſelf,
or by Mr. Pope when they published the
miſcellany, in which the tranfition
From grave to gay, from lively to fevere,
appears frequently to be the effect rather
of choice than accident*. However, as the
* Our miſcellany is now
quite printed, I am prodigi-
ouſly pleaſed with this joint
volume in which methinks we
look like friends fide by fide,
ferious and merry by turns-
diverting others juft as we di-
verted ourſelves.
Letter of Pope to Swift, March 8, 1726-7.
reader
THE PREFACE.
5
reader will have the whole in his poffeffion,
be may perfue either the grave or the gay
with very little trouble, and without lofing
any pleaſure or intelligence which he would
have gained from a different arrangement.
Among the mifcellanies is the hiftory of
John Bull, a political allegory, which is now
farther opened by a short narrative of the
facts upon which it is founded, whether fup-
pofititious or true, at the foot of the page.
The notes which have been publiſhed with
former editions have for the most part been
retained, becauſe they were fuppofed to have
been written, if not by the Dean, yet by
Some friend who knew his particular view
in the paffage they were intended to illuf-
trate, or the truth of the fact which they
afferted; however, this has fince appeared.
not always to have been the cafe; for there
is not the least reafon to believe that Stella
was related to Sir William Temple, or
that he was vifited by King William at
Moor Park, although both theſe facts are
afferted, one in a note on the letter to Lord
Palmerſton, Vol. XII. p. 200, the other
in a note on a letter to Dr. Sheridan,
Vol. XII. p. 227.
A 3
The
THE PREFACE.
The notes which have been added to this
edition contain, among other things, an
biftory of the author's works, which would
bave made a confiderable part of bis
life; but as the occafion on which parti-
cular pieces were written, and the events
which they produced, could not be related
in a feries, without frequent references and
quotations, it was thought more eligible to
put them together; in the text innumera-
ble paffages have been restored, which were
evidently corrupt in every other edition,
whether printed in England or Ireland.
Among the notes will be found fome re¬
marks on thofe of another writer, for which
no apology can be thought neceffary, if it
be confidered that the fame act is justice if
the fubject is a criminal, which would have
been murder if executed on the innocent.
Lord Orrery has been fo far from acting
upon the principle on which Mr. Pope
framed this petition in his univerfal prayer,
Teach me
To hide the faults I fee.
That where he has not found the appearance
of a fault, he has laboured hard to make
one: 8
THE PREFACE.
one, an inftance of which will be found
in his remark upon a maxim of Cadenus
to Vaneffa:
That Virtue pleas'd by being fhown,
Knows nothing which it dares not own.
He taught her, fays his lordship, that vice
as foon as it defied fhame, was immediately
changed into virtue; but the most obvious
and natural meaning is juft contrary. That
we defire to conceal no act which upon re-
flection we do not difcover to be vicious, be-
caufe virtue is pleafed in proportion as it is
difplayed; and indeed thefe verfes could
not be fuppofed an apology for lewdness, if
his lordship believed his own affertion, that
the dean was, Not to be fwayed by de-
"liberate evil.”
Lord Orrery has alfo fuppofed the dean
himſelf to have been the editor of at least
fix volumes of the Iriſh edition of his works,
but the contrary will incontestably appear
upon a comparison of that edition with this,
as well by thoſe paſſages, which were altered
under colour of correction, as by thofe in
which accidental imperfections were fuffer-
ed to remain. Of theſe paſſages the fol-
A 4
lowing
g
THE PREFACE.
lowing are felected from Gulliver's Travels,
becauſe the correction of this part of the
work, eſpecially with refpect to dates and
numbers, is boafted in an advertiſement
prefixed, and becaufe being divided into
chapters, the places referred to will be
more easily found,
In the following fentence, they have,
is fubftituted for he hath:
"Whoever makes ill returns to his
"benefactor, must needs be a common
enemy to the rest of mankind, from whom
THEY HAVE received no obligations."
Voyage to Lilliput, Chap. VI.
The children of the Lilliputians are faid
to be apprenticed at feven years of age in-
Stead of eleven, which is evidently wrong,
as the author fuppofes the age of fifteen
with them, to answer that of one and
twenty with us, a proportion which will
be nearly kept by fuppofing them to be ap-
prenticed at eleven, and to ferve five
years. Ibid.
Gulliver fays, that he arrived in the
Downs from Lilliput, on the 13th of A-
pril, 1702, and that he took shipping a-
gain on the 20th of June following, two
months
THE PREFACE.
9.
1
months after his return; but in the Irish
edition, though the fame dates are pre-
ferved, we are told, that ten months af-
ter bis return he took ſhipping, &c. Com-
pare the last chapter of Part I, with the
firft chapter of Part II.
In the following fentence, bring is fub-
ftituted for carry :
"A gentleman-ufher came from court
commanding my mafter to BRING me thi-
ther; but as thither fignifies to that place,
to bring thither is falfe Engliſh.
Voyage to Brobdingnag, Chap. III.
By putting the word born for both,
Gulliver is reprefented as fhewing how
the British nobility are qualified to be born
councellors to the king and kingdom; or
in other words, deſcribing a part of their
education antecedent to their birth. And
though it is true that the Engliſh nobility
are councellors to the king and kingdom by
right of birth, yet it is not true that they
are born councellors. Ibid. Chap. VI.
It appears by many passages, that the
ftature of the Brobdingnagians was to
that of Gulliver, nearly as ten to one,
and this proportion is kept in other things;
our
ΤΟ
THE PREFACE.
our battering-pieces being about twelve
feet long, Gulliver who was willing to
facilitate the ufe of cannon in Brobding-
nag, tells the king that he need not make
his largeſt pieces longer than one-hundred
feet; but this proportion is deftroyed, and
Gulliver reprefented as incumbering a
new project with unneceſſary expence and
labour, by changing one hundred feet in-
Ibid. Chap. VII.
to two.
When Gulliver was floating on the fea
in a box which Glumdalclitch uſed to car-
ry on her girdle, and the water oozed in
at the crannies, he obferves, that if he
could have lifted up the roof, he would
have fat on the top of it, where he might
at least have preferved himself fome hours
longer, than by being shut up in the hold;
but as if it was difficult to conceive, that
when a veſſel is gradually finking, a man
will drown fooner in the hold than upon
deck, The Irish edition tells us, that Gul-
liver would have got on the top, becauſe
be might thus have preferved himself
from being fhut up in it; and indeed it
is a truth fo evident as to admit no dif-
pute, that while a man fits on the top of
a box
THE PREFACE.
:
a box be will effectually preferve himself
from the infide of it,
Voyage to Brobdingnag, Chap. VIII.
Gulliver's refidence among the Houyhn-
hnms is faid to be five years inftead of
three, though he tells us he was fet on
Shore there in 1711, and departed in
1714. Voyage to the Houyhnhnms;
compare the beginning of Chap. I, with
Chap. XI, of which fee alfo the laft
Paragraph.
In other places the London edition has
been copied with great exactneſs; Gulliver
is made to fay of his box that it was toffed
up and down like a fign-POST in a windy
day, though the manner in which a fign-
poft is toffed up and down by the wind is
much less eafy to conceive than the motion
of the box which it was intended to illuf-
trate.
Voyage to Brobdingnag, Chap. VII.
As the word poft is not rejected in this
paffage, neither is the word take fupplied
in the following; though by this neglect
Gulliver is reprefented as putting on a
bundle of linen with his best fuit of
cloaths, "They forced me into the long-
boat,
12
THE PREFACE.
boat, letting me put on my beft fuit of
cloaths—and a ſmall bundle of linen.
Voyage to the Houyhnhnms, Chap. I.
So when the Irifh editor found by an
accidental tranfpofition, that Gulliver in
his way to England, came to Amfterdam
the 16th of April, and arrived from
Amfterdam in the Downs on the 10th;
be faithfully copied the mistake, although
the two dates are within half a page of
each other.
Such, among innumerable others, are.
the Irish emendations of Gulliver's Travels,
and many more examples of equal ſkill
and diligence might have been felected
from an equal number of pages in any part
of the eight volumes; but he who is not
convinced by thefe, that the Dean could
not thus alter to pervert his meaning,
and overlook blunders that obfcured it,
would fill doubt if all the reft had been
brought together. Some of them however
are yet more grofs, as preventing an ap-
parent diſeaſe, for preventing the de-
ceaſe; rules for ruelles; and armed with
the power, the guilt, and the will to do
miſchief, inſtead of armed with the power
and
1
THE PREFACE.
13
and the will: it might reaſonably be fup-
pofed that a difeafe which was apparent,
could not be prevented; and it should
have been known, that there is no fuch
affembly or place as the rules of court
ladies; and that it is an abfurd re-
dundancy to ſay of a man who has the
power and the will, that he has also the
guilt to do mischief; for whatever guilt
he can contract before the perpetration of
the miſchief, is included in the will; thefe
paffages are to be found in the 46th and
48th Examiners, and in the answer to a
memorial, Vol. X.
Thefe Examiners indeed are not taken
into this collection, becauſe the last pa-
per written by the Dean was N°. 44.
which is yet a ftronger proof that he did
not reviſe the Iriſh edition, where the ſub-
Sequent numbers are imputed to him, and
have received correction from the hand
that corrected the reft*. The editor of
the Irish edition has also taken into his
collection feveral fpurious pieces in verſe,
which the Dean zealously difavowed, and
which therefore he would certainly have
excluded
*See Examiner, No. 44. and note.
*
34
THE PREFACE.
excluded from any collection printed under
bis infpection and with his confent, parti-
cularly The Life and Character of Doctor
Swift, on a maxim of Rochefocault, of
which he fays, in a letter to Mr. Pope,
dated May 1, 1733, it is an impoftures
mean and trivial, and full of the cant.
that I moft defpife. It appears alfo by a
letter of Mr. Pope, dated 15 Sept. 1734,
that the Dean had ftrongly difavowed this
piece, not to him only, but to Lord Carte-
ret, and others, and that there was reafon
to believe it the performance of a perfon
who offered a piece in profe to a bookfeller
as the Dean's, which he afterwards con-
felfed to be his own. In the Irish copy of
the verfes on his death many paffages are
to be found which Mr. Pope rejected, for
when he added thefe verfes to the mifcellany
in 1742, he took nothing from the Iriſh
copy which he had then feen, and upon his
authority the Iriſh variations are rejected
in this edition.
But there is evidence of another kind
to prove that the Dean never reviſed any
edition of his works for Falkener to print,
and
THE PREFACE:
15
•
and that on the contrary he was unwilling
that Falkener fhould print them at all.
Falkener, in an advertiſement published
Oct. 15, 1754, calls himself the editor
as well as publiſher of the Dublin edition,
and the Dean has often renounced the
undertaking in exprefs terms. In his
letter to Mr. Pope dated May 1, 1733,
he ſays, that when the printer applied to
him for leave to print his works in Ireland,
be told him he would give no leave; and
when he printed them without, he declared
it was much to his diſcontent, the fame
fentiment is alfo more strongly expreſſed
in the following extract from a letter now
in the hands of the publiſher, which was
written by the Dean to the late Mr.
Benjamin Motte his bookfeller in Lon-
don.
311
"Mr. Falkener in printing thofe volumes
did what I much difliked, and yet what
was not in my power to hinder; and all
my friends preffed him to print them, and
gave him what manufcript copies they had
occafionally gotten from me; my defire
was that those works should have been
printed
16
THE PREFACE.
printed in London, by an agreement be»
tween those who had a right to them.
I am Sir with great truth
Nov. 1. your moft humble and
1735.
affectionate fervant,
7. Swift.
N. B. In the references that will be
found in the margin of the Life D. S.
ftands for Dean Swift's Effay on the
Life, Writings and Character of Doctor
Jonathan Swift. O. for Orrery's Re-
marks on the Life and Writings of
Doctor Jonathan Swift, the 5th edition
12mo, printed for Millar in 1752.
J.
7. R. for J. R's Obfervations on
Lord Orrery's Remarks, generally fup-
poſed to have been written by Doctor
Delany. Sketch for a Fragment in-
titled, The Family of Swift, written
by the Dean himſelf, annexed to Mr.
Swift's Effay, and Letter to S. Letters
from the Dean to Stella, mentioned by
Mr. Swift, but not publiſhed.
AN
ACCOUNT
OF THE
L
I FE
OF THE
Reverend Jonathan Swift, D. D.
Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin.
To gratify
O gratify that curiofity which great eminence al-
ways excites, many accounts have been pub-
liſhed of the life of Dr. Jonathan Swift. Thefe have
mutually reflected light upon each other, afcertained
controverted facts, and rectified miſtakes, which, if
they had ſtill been traditional and oral, would ſtill
have been believed. Several little incidents, which
fhewed the peculiarities of his converfation and do-
meſtic life, were related by Mrs. Pilkington in her
memoirs; though thefe could be believed only in
proportion as they verified themſelves. Lord Orrery's
Letters contained many of the principal events, inter-
mingled with many characteriſtic incidents fupported
in general upon better authority; but fometimes.
founded upon falſe information. Some of theſe miſ-
takes were detected by a Volume of Letters figned 7.
R. in which were alfo fome new materials; and the ac-
count fince publiſhed by Mr. Swift, with an imperfect
ſketch by the Dean himſelf, has furniſhed yet more.
From a compariſon of all theſe with each other this
account is compiled. It is not thought neceffary to
relate every trifling particular that has been recorded,
but only to ſelect fuch as will fufficiently diſtinguiſh
the peculiarities of his character and manners, and
Α
tranfmit
ស.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
tranfmit a knowledge of him to pofterity, of the fame
kind, if not in the fame degree, as was obtained by
thoſe among his contemporaries, who were admitted
to his converfation and friendſhip.
For the hiftory of his works the reader is referred
to them, and to the notes and remarks that are now
added.
ger
Doctor Jonathan Swift was defcended from a youn-
branch of an ancient family of that name in York-
hire. Bernam Swift, efq; who in the reign of king
James the First, poffeffed the paternal eftate, was, on
the 20th of March, 1627, by king Charles the First,
created a peer of Ireland, with the title of viſcount
Carlingford; though it is faid he never went into that
kingdom. He died without male iffue, and the fa-
mily inheritance defcended to his daughters, one of
whom married Robert Fielding, efq; commonly called
handfome Fielding, and the other the earl of Egling-
ton. Fielding foon diffipated his wife's patrimony,
and that of her fifter being transferred to the family
of lord Eglington, the principal eftate of the Swifts was
divided from the name for ever. One of the younger
branches from the fame ftem, was fir Edward Swift,
who diftinguiſhed himſelf by his attachment to the
royal caufe in the great rebellion of 1641, from whom
there is no defcendant of the name.
Another of the younger branches was the reverend
Thomas Swift, vicar of Goodrich, in Herefordshire, with
which he alſo held another ecclefiaftical living.
His father William Swift, rector of St. Andrews in
Canterbury, married the heirefs of Philpot, who con-
trived to keep her eſtate which was very confiderable
in her own hands, fhe is faid to have been extremely
capricious and ill-natured, and to have difinherited
her fon Thomas, an only child, merely for robbing an
orchard when he was a boy; but however this be,
it is certain, that except a church or chapter leafe
which was not renewed, Thomas never poffeffed more
than
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
3
Shetch.
than one hundred pounds a year; this little eſtate
which lay at Goodrich, he mortgaged for three hun-
dred broad pieces, and having quilted them into his
waiſtcoat, he fet out for Ragland Castle, whither his
majeſty king Charles the First had retired after the bat-
tle of Nafeby. The governor who well knew him,
afked what was his errand; I am come faid Swift, to
give his majeſty my coat, at the fame time pulling it
off and prefenting it: the governor told him plea-
fantly that his coat was worth little, why then faid
Swift, take my waiſtcoat; this was foon found to be
an uſeful garment by its weight; and it is remarked
by lord Clarendon, that the king received
no fupply more feaſonable or acceptable
than theſe three hundred broad pieces during the whole
war, his diſtreſs being then very great and his refour-
ces cut off. The zeal and activity of this gentleman
for the royal cauſe expofed him to much danger and
many fufferings; he was plundered more than thirty
times by the parliament's army, he was ejected from
his church livings, his eftate was fequeftered and he
was himſelf thrown into prifon. His eftate however
was afterwards recovered, and part of it fold to pay
the money due on the mortgage, and fome other
debts; the remainder being about one half defcended
to his heir, and is now poffeffed by his great-grand-
fon, Deane Swift, efq.
This Mr. Thomas Swift married Mrs. Elifabeth
Dryden, of an ancient family in Huntingdonshire, fifter
to the father of John Dryden the poet; by whom he
had ten fons and four daughters; of the fons, fix fur-
vived him, Godwin, Thomas, Dryden, William, Jona-
than, and Adam.
Thomas was bred at Oxford and took orders; he
married the eldest daughter of fir William D'Avenant,
*The grandmother of this
gentleman, one of the wives of
Godwin Swift, was heiress to
admiral Deane, whence Deane
became a Chriftian name in the
family.
A 2
but
4
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
Sketch
and note.
but died young, and left only one fon, whofe name
alfo was Thomas, and who died in 1752,
rector of Puttenham, in Surry, a benefice
which he had poffeffed threefcore years.
Godwin was a barriſter of Grays- Inn, and William,
Dryden, Jonathan, and Adam, were attornies.
Godwin having married a relation of the old mar-
chionefs of Ormond, the old duke of Ormond made him
his attorney general in the palatinate of Tipperary in
Ireland. Ireland was at this time almoft without law-
yers, the rebellion having made almoſt every man of
whatever condition a foldier. Godwin therefore de-
termined to attempt the acquifition of a fortune in that
kingdom, and the fame motives induced his four
brothers to go with him. Godwin foon become weal-
thy, and the reft obtained fomething more than a
genteel competence, though Dryden and Jonathan who
died foon after their arrival had little to bequeath.
Jonathan at the age of about three and twenty, and
before he went to Ireland, married Mrs. Abigail Erick,
of Leiceſterſhire; the family of this lady was deſcend-
ed from Erick the Forefter, who raifed an army to op-
pofe William the Conqueror, by whom he was van-
quifhed, and afterwards made commander of his
forces. But whatever was the honour of her lineage,
her fortune was fmall, and about two years after her
marriage, fhe was left a widow with one child, a
daughter, and pregnant with another, having no
means of ſubſiſtence but an annuity of twenty pounds
which her huſband had purchaſed for her in England,
immediately after his marriage.
In this diftrefs fhe was taken with her daughter
into the family of Godwin, her huſband's eldeſt bro-
ther, and on the 30th of November, 1667, about feven
months after her huſband's death, fhe was delivered
of a ſon, whom she called Jonathan in remembrance
of his father, and who was afterwards the celebrated
dean of St. Patrick's.
Of
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
5
*
Of all the brothers of Mrs. Swift's huſband, God-
D. S. P.
23.
win only had fons; and by theſe fons fhe
was fubfifted in her old age, as ſhe had been
'before by their father and their uncles, with
fuch liberality, that the declared herſelf not only hap-
РУ but rich.
It happened, by whatever accident, that Jonathan
was not fuckled by his mother, but by a nurſe, who
was a native of Whitehaven ; and when he was about
a year old her affection for him was become fo ftrong,
that finding it neceffary to viſit a relation who was
dangerouſly ſick, and from whom ſhe expected a le-
gacy, fhe found means to convey the child on fhip-
board, without the knowledge of his mother or his
uncle, and carried him with her to Whitehaven : at
this place he continued near three years; for when
the matter was diſcovered, his mother fent orders not
to hazard a fecond voyage till he ſhould be better able
to bear it. The nurſe however gave other teftimo-
nies of her affection to Jonathan, for during his ftay
at Whitehaven, ſhe had taught him to fpell, and when
he was five years old he was able to read any chapter
in the bible.
Mrs. Swift about two years after her huſband's
death, quitted the family of Mr. Godwin Swift, in
Ireland, and retired to Leicester, the place of her
nativity, but her fon was again carried to Ireland by
his nurfe, and replaced under the protection of his
uncle Godwin.
It has been generally believed that Swift was born
in England, a miftake to which many incidents be-
fides this have contributed; he had been frequently
heard to fay when the people of Ireland difpleafed him,
I am not of this vile country, I am an Engliſhman'.
Mr. Pope alfo in one of his letters to him, mentions
England as his native country; but this account of
his birth is taken from that which he left behind him
in his own hand writing, and while he lived he was
A 3
fo
6
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
fo far from ſeriouſly denying or concealing his being
a native of Ireland, that he often mentioned and even
pointed out the houſe in which he was born.
See vol.
xii. p. 98.
He has alſo been thought by fome to have been a
natural fon of fir William Temple, a miſtake which was
probably founded upon another, for till the publicați-
on of his letter to lord Palmerston, among
his pofthumous works, he was thought to
have received fuch favours from fir William
as he could not be fuppofed to beftow upon a perfon
to whom he was not related; however fuch a relation
between fir William and the Dean appears beyond
contradiction to have been impoffible, for fir William
Temple was refident abroad in a public character from
the year 1665, to 1670, as may be proved by his
letters to the earl of Arlington and the reft
of the miniſtry. Swift was born in Novem-
ber, 1667, and his mother was never out of
the British dominions.
Orrery,
P. 5.
1673.
1581.
Sketch.
At about the age of fix years he was
fent to the ſchool of Kilkenny, and having
continued there eight years, he was at the age of
fourteen admitted into the univerſity of
Dublin, and became a ftudient in Trinity.
college. There he lived in perfect regularity; and
obeyed the ftatutes with the utmoſt exact-
nefs; but he was fo much depreffed by the
difadvantages of his fituation, deriving his prefent
fubfiftence meerly from the precarious bounty of an
uncle, and having no other object of hope but the
continuance of it, that he could not refift the temp-
tation to neglect many neceffary objects of academic
ſtudy, to which he was not by nature much inclined,
and apply himſelf wholly to books of hiſtory and po-
etry, by which he could without intellectual labour
fill his mind with pleating images, and for a while
fufpend the fenfe of his condition. The facrifice of
the future to the prefent, whether it be a folly or a
fault,
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
7
fault, is feldom unpunished, and Swift foon found
himſelf in the fituation of a man who had burned his
bed to warm his hands, for at the end of
four years he was refufed his degree of bat- 1685.
chelor of arts for infufficiency, and was at laſt admit-
ted fpeciali gratia, which is there confidered as the
highest degree of reproach and difhonour.
But upon Swift, this puniſhment was not ineffec-
tual, he dreaded the repetition of fuch difgrace as the
laft evil that could befal him, and therefore immedi-
ately fet about to prevent it as the principal buſineſs
of his life. During feven years from that time he
ftudied eight hours a day; and by fuch an
effort of fuch a mind fo long continued, J. R. 5c.
great knowledge muft neceffarily have been acquired.
He commenced thefe ftudies at the univer-
fity in Dublin, where he continued them three
years, and during this time he alfo drew the firſt ſketch
of his Tale of a Tub*.
1688.
In the year 1688, when he was about twenty-one,
and had been ſeven years at college, his uncle Godwin,
was feized with a lethargy, and foon after totally de-
prived both of his fpeech and his memory; as by this
accident Swift was left without fupport, he took a
journey to Leiceſter that he might confult with his
mother what courfe of life to purfue. At this time
fir William Temple was in high reputation, and honour-
ed with the confidence and familiarity of
king William. His father, fir John Temple,
had been mafter of the Rolls in Ireland 33, 34.
and contracted an intimate friendship with Godwin
Swift which continued till his death, and fir William
who inherited his title and eſtate had married a lady
to whom Mrs. Swift was related; fhe therefore adviſed
* Waffendon Warren, efq; a
gentleman of fortune near Bel-
fat, in the north of Ireland, who
was chamber fellow with Dr.
D. S. P.
Swift, declared that he then faw
a copy of the Tale of a Tub in
Swift's own hand writing. Deane
Swift, p. 31.
A 4
her
8
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
1:
her fon to communicate his fituation to fir William,
and follicit his direction what to do; this advice, which
perhaps only confirmed a refolution that Swift had fe-
cretly taken before he left Ireland, he immediately re-
folved to purſue.
Sir William received him with great kind-
1690. nefs, and Swift's firft vifit continued two
years; fir William had been ambaſſador and mediator
of a general peace at Nimeguen before the revolution;
in this character he became known to the prince of
Orange, who frequently vifited him at Sheen, after his
arrival in England, and took his advice in affairs of the
utmoſt importance. Sir William being then lame with
the gout, Swift uſed to attend his majeſty in his walks
about the garden, who admitted him to fuch familia-
rity that he ſhewed him how to cut aſparagus after the
Dutch manner, and once offered to make him a captain
of horſe. Swift appears to have fixed his
D.S. 108. mind very early upon an ecclefiaftical life,
and it is therefore probable that upon declining this
offer he obtained a promiſe of preferment in the
church, for in a letter to his uncle William, dated
1692, he ſays, I am not to take orders till
the king gives me a prebend,'
D. S. 56.
6
Sir William becoming ſtill more infirm, and wiſh-
ing to retire farther from London, bought an eſtate at
Farnham in Surry, called Moorpark, whither he was
accompanied by Swift *. About this time a bill was
brought
* There is fome difficulty in
reconciling the first and laft pa-
ragraphs of fect. xxiii, in the
Dear's fketch of his own life
where Moorpark is, mentioned;
in the firſt it is faid that Swift af-
ter having been fome months
with his mother at Leiceſter, was
received by fir William who was
now retired to Moorpark, and in
the laft that fir William, tired
of being near London, bought an
eftate near Farnham in Surry,
where Mr. Swift accompanied him.
The fenfe of the laft which feems
to imply that Swift lived with
fir William at Sheen before he
went to Moorpark, is adopted up-
on the credit of Mr. Deane Swift »
who fays that Swift was there
familiar with king William, and
the king does not appear to have
con-
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
9
Sketch,
fect. xxiii.
end, and
xxiv. be-
ginning.
brought into the houſe for triennial parliaments, a-
gainſt which the king who was a ſtranger to
our conftitution was very averſe by the ad-
vice of fome weak people who perfuaded
the earl of Portland, that Charles the First loft
his crown and life by confenting to fuch
a bill. Upon this occafion the earl was diſpatched to
Moorpark by the king for fir William's advice, who
faid much to fhew him the miſtake but without effect,
and therefore he foon afterwards difpatched Swift to
Kenſington, with the whole account in writing to con-
vince the king and the earl how ill they were inform-
ed. Swift though he was then very young, was yet
well acquainted with the English hiftory, and gave the
king a compendious account of the matter which he
amplified to the earl, but the meaſure was at laſt re-
jected, and thus ended Swift's firft embaffy to court, fo
much to his diffatisfaction, that he then declared it
was the firſt incident that helped to cure him
of vanity. Soon after this tranfaction he Sketch,
was feized with the return of a diſorder
which he had contracted in Ireland by eating a great
quantity of fruit; and upon this occafion returned
thither by the advice of his phyſicians, who hoped
that his native air would contribute to the recovery of
his health, but from this journey he received no be-
nefit, and therefore in a fhort time returned
to fir William, being ever afterwards fub-
ject to that giddinefs, which gradually in-
creaſed, though with irregular intermiffions, till it ter-
minated in total debility of body and mind.
*
fect. xxiv.
Sketch,
fect. xxiii.
But he was ſtill indifatigable in his ftudies, and to
prevent the loſs of health in the acquifition of know-
continued his vifits after the re-
moval to Moorpark. [D. S. 108.]
*It must have been after,
though it is first related in the
Sketch, for it is faid fect. xxiii,
I
that he went to Ireland after he
had been two years at Moorpark,
and in ſect. xxiv. that his expe-
dition to court was foon after the
removal from Sheen.
ledge
10
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
ledge by the want of bodily exerciſe, it was his con-
ſtant practice to run up an hill that was near the
houſe and back again every two hours; the diſtance
backwards and forwards was about half a mile, and
he uſed to run it in about fix minutes. By
D.S. 272. what books his ftudies were principally di-
rected cannot certainly be known, but feveral copi-
ous extracts from Cyprian, Irenæus, Sleidan's Commen-
taries, and Padre Paolo's hiftory of the council of
Trent, were found among his papers which appear by
memorandums in his own hand writing to
D.S. 276. have been made while he lived with fir
William Temple.
About a year after his return from Ireland, he
thought it expedient to take his degree of mafter of
arts at Oxford.
With this view he appears to have written to his
uncle William Swift, to procure and fend him the teſ
timonium of his bachelor's degree.
With this teftimonium which is dated the 3d of
May 1692, he went to Oxford where having received
many civilities he was admited ad eundem on the 14th
of June, and took his maſter's degree on the 5th of
July following.
D. S. p.
It has been faid that the civilities which he received
at Oxford proceeded from a mifunderſtand-
ing of the phrafe fpeciali gratia, which was
there fuppofed to be a compliment paid to
uncommon merit.
30, 44.
Orrery,
P. 8.
But theſe words are not inferted in that copy of
the teftimonium which is entered in the congregation
book at Oxford; and not to have inferted them there,
when they were thought a compliment, would have
been an affront; it is therefore probable that by the
influence of Swift's uncle they were omitted in the copy
which he procured and fent, efpecially as fome fuch
favour, feems to be intimated in Swift's letter to him,
after
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
1 1
Orrery, P.
11. D. S.
P. 56.
after he had received it: I am ftill, fays he, to thank
you for your CARE in my teftimonium, and
IT WAS TO VERY GOOD PURPOSE, for I was
never more fatisfied than in the behaviour
of the univerſity. The civilities which he
received at Oxford, might indeed proceed from his
known connexion with fir William Temple, but he
might reaſonably impute them alfo to the fuppreffion
of a reproach againſt which there was good reafon to
fear this connection would not have fupported him:
nor is it ftrange that Swift, after his reputation was
eſtabliſhed, ſhould, while he was ſporting with this
incident in the gayety of his heart, pretend a miſtake
which never happened, or that what he meant as a
jeft upon the univerſity ſhould be ſeriouſly remem-
bered as an event of his life.
Orrery,
p. 8, 9.
It has alſo been faid that upon his difgrace at Dub-
lin, he refolved to pursue his ftudies at Oxford, where
he almoſt conſtantly refided during three years, and
was avowedly ſupported by fir William Tem-
ple. But the contrary is inconteſtably true,
for there are not quite two months between
the date of his teftimonium, and his taking his maf-
ter's degree. Beſides in the letter to his uncle just
mentioned, he ſays, I am aſhamed to be more obliged
in a few weeks to STRANGERS, than in feven years to
Dublin college
*
He went to college at the
age of fourteen, in 1681; con-
tinued there feven years, as ap-
pears by his letter; fo that he
did not leave Ireland till 1688;
he was fome months with his
mother before he went to fir
William, and two years with him
before he went to Ireland for his
health, which must therefore be
in 1691; he returned from Ire-
land, and continued fome time
longer with fir William before he
went to Oxford, which mußt
therefore be 1692; and in that
very year he took his degree.
The fact therefore which, lord
Orrery fays, was immediately con-
ftrued to favour an opinion that
Savift was fir William's natural
fon appears never to have hap-
pened. See Swift's ſketch of his
ozen life.
From
12
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
From Oxford he returned again to Moore Park,
where he affifted fir William Temple to revife his works,
corrected and improved his Tale of a Tub, and added
the digreffions. From the converfation of fir William,
who was minutely acquainted with all the intricacies
of party and the ſecrets of ſtate, during the reigns
of king Charles and king James the Second, Swift
greatly increaſed his political knowledge. But hav-
ing long fufpected fir William of neglecting to pro-
vide for him, merely that he might keep him in
his family, he at length refented it fo warmly, that
in the year 1694, a quarrel enfued and they parted.
It is probable that Swift did not leave fir William
for fuch a reafon without fevere expoftulation, not
only becauſe Swift was no refpecter of perfons, but
becauſe it appears that fir William, though
D. S. 52. he was extremely angry, admitted his claim
to ſome proviſion by offering to make him his deputy
as maſter of the Rolls in Ireland. This of-
fer however Swift did not accept, but re-
plied that ſince he had now an opportunity
of living without being driven into the
church for fupport, a fcruple which had hitherto kept
him out of it, he was determined to go into Ireland
and take orders.
Sketch,
fect. xxv.
and note.
D. S. 99.
Orrery,
22.
Swift during his reſidence with fir William had ne-
ver failed to vifit his mother at Leiceſter once
a year, and his manner of travelling was
very extraordinary; he always went on foot
except the weather was very bad, and then
he would fometimes take fhelter in a waggon; he
chofe to dine at obfcure alehoufes among pedlers and
hoftlers, and to lie where he faw written over the
door lodgings for a penny; but he uſed to bribe the
maid with a tefter for a fingle bed and clean fheets.
In this manner he went down to his mother upon
his leaving fir William, and from Leicester he wrote a
letter dated June 1694, to his coufin Deane Swift,
then
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
13
D. S. 51.
then at Liſbon; in which he relates his quarrel with
fir William, and declares his purpoſe to take
orders in the September following, wiſhing
he could procure for him the chaplainſhip of the
factory.
What was the effect of this letter is not known,
but Swift ſoon after obtained a recommendation to
lord Capel, then lord deputy of Ireland, who gave him
the prebend of Kilroot, in the diocefs of Conner, a nor-
thern diſtrict, worth about one hundred
fect. xxv.
D. S. 66.
pounds per annum. But fir William, who Sketch,
had been uſed to the converſation of Swift,
foon found that he could not be content to live with-
out him, he therefore urged him to refign his prebend
in favour of a friend, and promifed to obtain pre-
ferment for him in England if he would return *.
Swift confented, and fir William was fo
much pleaſed with this act of kindneſs, that
during the remainder of his life, which was about
four years, his behaviour was fuch as produced the
utmoſt harmony between them; Swift as a teftimony
of his friendſhip and eſteem wrote the battle of the
books, of which fir William is the hero; and fir Wil-
liam when he died left him a pecuniary legacy, and
his pofthumous works.
What other favours he received from fir William can-
not certainly be known; Swift acknowledged none but
his ineffectual recommendation to king William, and
he is known to have received frequent remittances
from his uncle William, and his coufin Willoughby
Swift; fo that fir William does not ſeem to have treat-
ed him with a liberality for which it is difficult to ac-
count.
Upon the death of fir William Temple, Swift ap-
* This appears by a letter
from Swift's fifter, then in Ire-
land, to her coufin Deane in Por-
tugal: fir William Temple, fays
fhe, was fo fond of him, that he
made him give up his living in
this country, and promifed to
get him one in England. D. S. 66.
plied
14
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
plied by petition to king William for the firft vacant
prebend of Canterbury or Westminster, for which the
royal promife had been obtained by his late patron,
whofe pofthumous works he dedicated to his majeſty,
to facilitate the fuccefs of this application. But it
does not appear that after the death of fir William,
the king took the leaft notice of mr. Swift; his pe-
tition and dedication were equally neglected, and af-
ter a fruitless attendance at court, which probably
increaſed the aufterity of his temper, he accepted an
invitation of the earl of Berkeley, who had been ap-
pointed one of the lords juſtices of Ireland, to attend
him as chaplain and private fecretary; it might rea-
fonably have been hoped, that although he had been
diſappointed of the preferment for which he follicited,
yet the employment to which he was invited would
have been fecure; but it happened, that after he had
acted as fecretary during the whole journey to Dub-
lin, one Bush found means to infinuate to lord Berke-
ley, that the poft of fecretary was not fit for a clergy-
man, and his lordſhip ſuffered himſelf to be ſo eaſily
convinced of this impropriety, that after making ſome
apology to mr. Swift, he appointed Bufb fecretary in
his ftead.
This diſappointment was foon after followed by
another; it happened that the deanery of Derry be-
came vacant, and it was the earl of Berkeley's turn to
diſpoſe of it; yet whatever attonement was due to
Swift for his lordship's late breach of engagement, the
fecretary having received a bribe, the deanery was
given to another upon pretence that Swift who was
then more than thirty years old was too young, and
he received inſtead of it the two livings of Laracor
and Rathbeggin in the dioceſe of Meath, which toge-
ther did not amount to half the value of the deanery*.
* As Savift did not receive
thefe livings till after the dean-
ery was given to another, his
non-refidence could not, as lord
Orrey fuppofes, be the reafon
why it was not given to him.
As
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
15
1
Sketch,
fect.xxvii,
7. R. 40,
41.
As Swift had refuſed a commiſſion under king
William and a fecular employment under fir
William Temple, it appears that his attach-
ment to a religious life, however early and
however ſtrong, was not the effect of temporary views
but of zeal for the fuccefs of the great work in which
he was about to engage, and a confcioufneſs of his
own ability to acquit himſelf with advan-
tage. That religious purpoſes were at this
time predominant in his mind he ufed fre-
quently to declare; he hoped, he faid, that by dili
gent and conftant application he fhould fo far excel
that the fexton might fometimes be aſked on a Sun-
day morning, Pray does the doctor preach to-day'?
and when after having taken poffeffion of his livings
he went to refide at Laracor, he gave public notice that
he would read prayers on every Wednesday and Friday,
a labour which he would not have brought upon
himſelf if he had been principally concerned about
the value of his dues which had been long before
cuſtomarily paid for much lefs fervice.
C
The duties of the church which he thus rendered
more frequent, he performed with the utmoft punc-
tuality and the moſt rational devotion; he was indeed
devout, not only in his public and folemn addreſſes
to God, but in that tranfient Act of adoration, which
is called faying grace, and which generally conſiſts
only in a mutter and a bow, in which the ſpeaker ap-
pears to compliment the company and the company
each other; Swift always ufed the feweft words that
could be uttered on the occafion, but he pronounced
them with an emphafis and fervor which every one
around him faw and felt, and with his hands clafped
in each other and lifted to his breaſt; and it is hoped
that thofe who can no otherwife emulate the charac-.
ter of Swift, will attempt it in this act of religious
decorum, and no longer affect either to be wits or fine
gentle-
16
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
11
gentlemen by a conduct directly contrary to fo great
an example.
But Swift with all this piety in his heart could not
refift the temptation to indulge the peculiarity of his
humour when an opportunity offered, whatever might
be the impropriety of time and place.
On the firſt Wedneſday after he had fummoned his
congregation at Laracor, he afcended his deſk, and
having fat fome time with no other auditor than his
clerk Roger, he roſe up and with a compoſure and
gravity that upon this occafion was irrefiftibly ridicu-
lous, he began, Dearly beloved Roger, the fcripture
moveth you and me in fundry places, and fo proceed-
ed to the end of the fervice.
D. S. 86,
90.
During Swift's refidence at Laracor, he invited to
Ireland a lady whom he has celebrated by
the name of Stella. With this lady he be-
came acquainted while he lived with fir
William Temple, fhe was the daughter of his ſteward,
whoſe name was Johnson, and fir William when he
died left her one thouſand pounds in confideration of
her father's faithful fervices; at the death
D. S. 85. of fir William which happened in 1699, fhe
was in the fixteenth year of her age*, and it was about
two years afterwards that at Swift's invitation fhe left
England, accompanied by mrs. Dingley, a lady who
was fifteen years older, and whofe whole fortune
though ſhe was related to fir William, was
D. S. 86.
no more than an annuity of twenty-feven
pounds. Whether Swift at this time defired the
company of Stella as a wife or a friend is not certain,
but the reaſon which ſhe and her companion then
gave for their leaving England, was, that in Ireland
*Mr. Deane Swift fays 18,
but it appears by the poem on
her birth day in 1718, that fhe
was then but 34 ; the Deane fays
fhe was in Ireland from 18, in
his introduction to Bons Mots de
Stella, Vol. XII.
the
1
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
17
D. S. 86,
7.
the intereft of money was high and provifions were
cheap; it appears however that other reaſons were
fufpected in the neighbourhood of Moorepark; for
mr. Thomas Swift, the rector of Puttenham, in a let-
ter which he wrote a few years afterwards, enquires
whether Jonathan was married, or whether he had
been able to refift the charms of both thofe gentlewo-
men who marched from Moorepark to Dub-
lin, with a reſolution to engage him. It ap-
pears too, that Swift, if he did not addreſs
her himſelf, yet contrived to break off a treaty of
marriage with another, by perfuading her to infift up-
on terms with which the gentleman could not com-
ply. But whatever was Swift's attachment
D. S. 89.
to mrs. Johnſon, every poffible precaution
was taken to prevent fcandal; they never lived in
the fame houſe; when Swift was abfent, mrs. Johnſon
and her friend refided at the parfonage; when he re-
turned, they removed either to the houſe of doctor
Raymond, vicar of Trim, a gentleman of great hoſpi-
tality and Swift's intimate friend, or to a
lodging provided for them in the neigh
bourhood, neither were they ever known to meet but
in the preſence of a third perſon. Swift made fre-
quent excurfions to Dublin and fome to London, but
mrs. Johnson was buried in folitude and obfcurity, fhe
was known only to a few of Swift's most intimate ac-
quaintance, and had no female companion except
mrs. Dingley.
D. S. 90.
In 1701, Swift took his doctor's degree, and in
1702, foon after the death of king William, he went
to England for the firſt time, after his fettlement at
Laracor; a journey which he frequently repeated
during the reign of queen Anne. Mrs. Johnson was
once alfo in England in 1705, but returned in a few
months, and never afterward's croffed the
channel.
D. S. 99.
He foon became eminent as a writer, and in that
B
charac-
18
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
character at leaſt was known to the great men in both
the factions, which were diftinguifhed by the names
of whig and tory; he had been educated among the
whigs, but he at length attached himſelf
to the tories, becaufe, as he faid, the whigs
had renounced their old principles and re-
ceived others, which their forefathers held in utter
abhorrence; he did not however write any
political pamphlet from the year 1701 to
Orrery,
27.
D. S.148.
the year 1708.
But though by his frequent excurfions to England
and a long abfence from his cures, he appears to have
delayed the execution of his purpofe to excel as a
preacher, yet he uſed to declare that he did not re-
J. R.
41, 42,
266.
nounce it till his acquaintance with Harley,
nor did he ever mention his fubfequent at-
tachment to politics without indubitable
figns of penitence and regret.
It is probable that he hoped to exert himſelf more
effectually in the church by acquiring fome other pre-
ferment, and that with this view, he was follicitous to
be near the court, for before his acquaintance with
lord Oxford, a biſhoprick was intended for him by
the queen, but archbifhop Sharpe and a certain great
lady having mifreprefented his principles and cha-
racter, her majefty gave it to another; of this injury,
however, the archbishop was afterwards
J. R.271.
truly fenfible, expreffed great forrow for it,
and defired his forgiveneſs.
•
After this diſappointment it was not long before a
new ſcene opened before him, for in 1710, being then
in England, he was impowered by his grace the lord.
primate of Ireland to follicit the queen to exonerate.
the clergy of Ireland from paying the twen-
tieth parts and firft fruits. And upon this
occafion his acquaintance with Harley com-
menced.
Sce let-
ters, Vol.
XII.
As foon as he had received the bishop's letter, in-
ftruc-
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
19
}
ftructions, and authority, he refolved to apply to
Mr. Harley, not only becauſe he was a principal
perfon in the queen's miniſtry, but becauſe by his
intereft the fame favour had been granted to the
clergy of England. That he might not wait upon
Mr. Harley to whom his name was well known wholly
without recommendation, he got himſelf repreſented
as a perſon who had been extreamly ill uſed by the
laft miniſtry, becauſe he would not go certain lengths
which they would have had him, this being
in fome fort Mr. Harley's own cafe.
Letter to
XII.
King, vol.
Mr. Harley received him with the utmoft
kindneſs and reſpect, he fat with him two
hours in company, and two hours he was with him
alone; he not only ingaged in the doctor's immediate
buſineſs with the utmoft zeal and foon after accom-
pliſhed it, but told him he muſt bring him acquaint-
ed with Mr. St. John, invited him to dine with him,
charged him to come often, and, when the doctor
propoſed attending at his levy, told him that was no
place for friends. The doctor foon after became per-
fonally acquainted with the reft of the minifters, who
appear to have courted and careffed him with uncom-
mon affiduity. He dined every Saturday at Mr.
Harley's, with the lord keeper, Mr. fecretary St.
John, and lord Rivers: on that day no other perfon
was for fome time admitted; but this felect company
was at length inlarged to fixteen, all men of the firſt
clafs, Swift included; they dined once a
week at the houſes of each other by rota-
tion, and went under the general denomi-
nation of brothers.
D.8.2279
317.
From this time the doctor fupported the intereſt
of his new friends with all his power, in pamphlets,
poems, and periodical papers; his intimacy with them
was fo remarkable that he was thought not only to
defend, but in fome degree to direct their meafures;
and fuch was his importance in the opinion of the
B⋅ 2
oppo-
20
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
oppofite party, that many fpeeches were made against
him in both houfes of parliament; a reward
was alfo offered for diſcovering the author
of the Public Spirit of the Whigs.
See vol.
IX. p. 1.
and note.
Whatever excellence we poffefs, or what-
ever honours we obtain, the pleafure which they pro-
duce is all relative to fome particular favourite with
whom we are tenderly connected, either by friendſhip
or by love; or at moſt it terminates, like rays col-
lected by a burning-glafs, in a very ſmall circle which
is fcarce more than a point, and like light becomes
fenfible only by reflection. Thus Swift, while he was
courted and careffed by thofe whom others were ma-
king intereſt to approach, feems to have enjoyed his
diſtinction only in proportion as it was participated
with Stella; for amidſt all the buſineſs, and all the ho-
nours that crowded upon him, he wrote every day an
account of whatever occurred, and fent her a journal
regularly dated every fortnight during the whole time
of his connexion with queen Anne's miniſtry. From
theſe unreſtrained effufions of his heart many particu-
lars are known, which could have been known no other
way. And by thefe it appears incontestably that he was
not only employed, but trufted; and that Harley, who
is univerfally allowed to have been one of the moſt re-
ferved and myſterious of all politicians, was to him in
affairs of the utmoft moment open and explicit. The
refult of one of their conferences fo early as the year
1710, was to this effect, that the kingdom was as cer-
tainly ruined, as a bankrupt merchant, that a peace
whether bad or good was abfolutely necef-
D. S.318.
fary, that the confederacy muft foon break,
and factions increaſe; and that the miniftry was upon too
narrow a bottom, and ftood like an ifthmus between
the whigs on one fide, and the violent tories on the
other, a fituation in which they could not fubfift.
Thefe violent tories were formed into a fociety called
the October club, of whom Swift fays, "they are a-
bout
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
21
bout an hundred parliament men of the country, who
drink October beer at home, and meet every evening
at a tavern near the parliament-houſe, to drive things
on to extreams againſt the whigs, to call the
old miniſtry to account and get off five or
fix heads."
D.S. 319,
320,
But, if Swift thought this party too precipitant, it
is certain he thought lord Oxford too flow, and he
once told him fo in a manner that fhews both his in-
tegrity and the freedom of his converfation with thoſe
who have a prefcriptive right to fervility and adula-
tion: he had received a prefent of a fine tortoife-fhell
fnuff-box lined with gold, and painted on the inſide
of the lid with a view of Venice. This preſent he ſhew-
ed one day to Harley, who having admired the paint-
ing and the workmanſhip, at laſt ſpied a figure ftud-
ed on the outfide of the bottom, which he thought
reſembled a goofe, upon which turning to the doctor,
Jonathan, lays he, I think they have made a gooſe of
thee. Yes my lord, fays the doctor, but, if your lordſhip
will look a little farther, you will fee that I am driv-
ing a fnail before me, which indeed happened to be the
device. To this the earl cooly replied, that is
fevere enough, Jonathan, but I deſerve it.
D.S.146.
It is equally true, and equally evident, that Swift
had no expectations of advantage from his connexion
with thefe perfons, that he knew they could not long
preferve their power, that he did not honour it while
it lafted, and that he difdained pecuniary obligations.
I uſe the miniſtry fays he like dogs, becauſe I expect
they will uſe me fo.-I never knew a mini-
ſtry do any thing for thoſe whom they make
companions of their pleaſures, but I care not.
D.S.322.
Letters to
S.
D.S. 33.
Lett, to S.
In the fummer of 1711, he forefaw the ruin of the
miniſtry by thoſe miſunderſtandings among
themſelves which at laft effected it; and
it was not only his opinion, but their own,
that if they could not carry a peace, they would not
B 3
be
22
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
Lett. to S.
be able to keep themſelves out of the Tower, even
though they fhould agree. In order therefore to
facilitate this great event, Swift wrote the
D.S. 332. Conduct of the Allies, a piece which he
confeffes coft him much pains, and which
fucceeded even beyond his expectation. It was pub-
liſhed on the 27th of November, 1711, juft ten days
D.S. 335.
before the parliament met, and, before the
28th of January, above eleven thouſand
were fold, ſeven editions having been printed in Eng-
land, and three in Ireland. The tory members in
both houſes who fpoke, drew all their arguments from
it, and the refolutions which were printed
in the votes, and which would never have
paffed but for the Conduct of the Allies,
were little more than quotations from it,
From this time till the year 1713, he continued to
D.S. 156.
exert himſelf with unwearied diligence in
the fervice of the miniſtry, and while he
was at Windſor, juft at the conclufion of the
peace of
Utrecht, he drew the firſt ſketch of An Hiſ-
tory of the four last Years of Queen Anne.
The work would have been publiſhed ſoon
after, if his friends in the miniſtry had not
D.S. 337.
Lett. to
Stella.
D.S. 340.
Lett.to P.
10 Jan.
1721.
diſagreed about it; and after the queen's
death, he ſpent much time in improving and correct-
ing it, but it has not yet appeared.
During all this time, he received no gratuity or
reward till the year 1713, and then he accepted the
deanery of St. Patrick's, Dublin.
It may perhaps be thought ſtrange, that his friends
did not rather procure him a bishoprick in England,
and place him in the houſe of lords, where his poli-
tical eloquence might have been employed with great
advantage; but this was not in their power,
D.S. 343. and they might be willing to fecure to him
lord Oxf.
fuch advantage as they could, knowing their
own inſtability, and foreſeeing their fall.
Lett. to
But
$
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
23
But with whatever view, or from whatever cauſe
the deanery of St. Patrick's was given him, he received
it with lefs pleaſure than he would have done a fettle-
ment with much less power and profit in England.
He immediately croffed the channel to take pof
feffion of his new dignity, but did not ſtay
in Ireland more than a fortnight, being
urged by an hundred letters to haften back,
and reconcile lord Oxford and lord Boling- Oxford.
broke, the confequences of whoſe miſunderſtanding
were justly dreaded by their friends.
D.S. 340.
Letter,
Swift to
When he returned he found their quarrels and
coldneſs increaſed, and having predicted their ruin
from this very caufe, he laboured to bring about a
reconciliation, as that upon which the whole intereſt
of their party depended.
With this view he contrived to bring them to lord
Maham's at St. James's, and lord and lady Masham
being acquainted with his purpoſe, left him alone
with them; he then expoftulated with them both,
but to little effect, being able only to engage them to
go to Windſor the next day, ftill hoping, that, if he
could keep them together, they would come to fome
agreement, well knowing, that in abfence the mind
perpetually revolves the recent offences of a friend,
and heightens them by every poffible aggravation,
but that, when the offended and offender meet, the
dying fparks of eſteem or kindneſs often brighten in-
to a flame, the remembrance of paſt pleaſure and
confidence returns, and mutually inclines them to fe-
cure, by an accommodation, that which they feel they
cannot lofe without regret.
Swift foon after followed them, but was told by
lord Bolingbroke that his fcheme had come to no-
thing; and he had the mortification to obferve that
they grew more cold to each other every day. In the
mean time lord Oxford's credit grew lefs and lefs,
and the queen's health vifibly declined.
B 4
Swift
24
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
Swift, however, contrived yet once more to meet
them at lord Mafham's, and was again left alone
with them; this was the laft time they ever met, and
he ſpoke to them both with great freedom, but at
length defpairing of his purpofe, he told them he
would retire, for that all was gone; Bolingbroke whif-
pered him that he was right, but Oxford faid all
would do well.
"
Swift ftill adhered to his opinion, and therefore
went in a day or two to Oxford by the coach, and
thence to the houſe of a friend in Berkſhire, where he
continued till the queen's death, which happened in
about ten weeks.
While he was at this place, his mind was ftill
bufy for his friends, and he wrote a difcourfe cal
led Free Thoughts on the prefent State of Affairs, which
he thought might be uſeful at that juncture, and
fent it up to London, but, fome difference of opi-
nion happening between him and lord Bolingbroke
Lett. to
Pope,
10 Jan.
721.
concerning it, the publication was delayed
till the queen's death, and then he recal-
led his copy, which was afterwards depo-
fited with the late alderman Barber, and
having been fince publiſhed, will be found
in Vol. III. p. 351.
A few weeks after the death of the queen, he
went back to his ftation in Ireland, all his connexi-
ons with the court being broken, and all his expecta,
tions diſappointed.
But it would be an injury to Swift not to ftop
a moment here, and, before we defcend with him
into the vale of private life, look back, as from
an eminence, upon the country we have paffed.
Few of thoſe who have been permitted to affoci-
ate with perfons greatly fuperior in rank and for-
tune, who have climbed in the retinue of power,
and been diftinguifhed by reflected greatnefs, have
been able to fuftain the native dignity of their own
character,
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
25
character, without ftooping as they afcended the hill,
or being blinded by the light that made them con-
ſpicuous to others.
Let it therefore be recorded to the honour of
Dr. Swift, and to animate others by his example
and reward, that during his connexion with thoſe
who were in the higheſt rank, and who in every
rank would have been great, he would never ſuffer
himſelf to be treated but as an equal, and repulſed
every attempt to hold him in dependance, or keep
him at a diſtance, with the utmoſt refentment and
indignation.
D. S.
It happened upon fome occafion, that Harley
fent him a bank bill of fifty pounds by his private
fecretary, Mr. Lewis, which Swift inftantly return-
ed, with a letter of expoftulation and complaint;
Harley invited him to dine, but he refuſed;
he wrote to Mr. Lewis to mediate between
them, defiring to be reconciled, but Swift Letter to
fent word that he expected farther ſatiſ
faction. Harley replied, if he would but
come and ſee him, he would make him eaſy; but
Swift infifted that he ſhould apologize by meffage,
and declared, that, otherwife, he would caft him off.
324-5,
S.
It is poffible that this favour might have been re-
jected as not worth his acceptance; but it is certain,
that, if it had been of greater value, it would not
have attoned for any indecorum in the offer, or have
induced Swift to fuffer an obligation from thoſe
whom he did not eſteem, for he refuſed the place of
hiftoriographer with difdain, becauſe it was in the
difpofal of a perfon whom he regarded with difguſt
and contempt *.
He would not fuffer even negative incivilities from
*If Swift refufed this place, he could not, as lord Orrery fup-
pofes, be miſtaken in believing it intended for him; and that he
did refuſe it, we have his own expreſs declaration in his letter to
Pope, dated 10 Jan. 1721.
thoſe
26
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
thoſe who, if by their ſtation they had not been his
fuperiors, would have been his equals by learning
and parts. It happened, that having one day dined
with Mr. St. John, who was then fecretary of ſtate,
and remarked that he appeared to be much out of
temper, he took the firft opportunity to fee him
alone, and warned him never to behave to him with
filent reſerve, for that he would not be treated like
a ſchool-boy. I expect, fays he, that if you hear or
fee any thing to my difadvantage, you would let
me know it in plain words, and not put
me in pain to guefs by the change or cold-
nefs of your countenance or behaviour,
for it is what I would hardly bear from a
crowned head, and I think no fubject's favour is
worth it.
D.S. 327.
Letter to
Stella.
The fecretary received the reproof like a friend,
as it was given, and apologized for his behaviour by
faying, that buſineſs had kept him up feveral whole
nights, and drinking one more; and to make up
matters, he preffed the doctor to ſtay to dinner,
which, however, he declined, as well becauſe he
would not incourage a fecond offence by too eaſily
paffing over the firft, as becauſe he was engaged with
another friend.
If in this reprefentation of his behaviour, as it
is in many particulars taken from his letters to Stel-
la, he ſhould be fufpected of having fomewhat
exaggerated to gratify his vanity, he may be abun-
dantly juftified by a letter ftill extant which he
wrote to lord Oxford after the connexion between
them was broken. When I was with you, fays he,
I have faid more than once, that I would never al-
low quality or ſtation to make any difference be-
tween men.-I loved you juſt fo much the worfe for
your ſtation-in your publick capacity you have
often angered me to the heart, but as a private man
never. I was too proud to be vain of the honour
.
you
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
27
you did me.-I was never afraid of offending you,
nor am I now in any pain for the manner I write to
you in.
Neither was this conduct the effect of pride and
felf-fufficiency, but of true dignity of mind, for he
exacted nothing which, in his turn, he did not pay,
nor aſked more for himſelf than for others, whoſe
pretenfions or circumftances were the ſame.
When he was defired by lord Oxford to intro-
duce doctor Parnel to his acquaintance, he refuſed
upon this principle, that a man of genius was a
character fuperior to that of a lord in a high ſta-
tion: He therefore obliged his lordship to walk
with his treaſurer's ftaff from room to room through
his own levy, enquiring which was doctor Parnel, in
order to introduce himſelf, and beg the honour of
his acquaintance.
It was known by an accident, after his memory
failed, that he allowed an annuity of fifty guineas to
Mrs. Dingley, but inſtead of doing this with the pa-
rade of a benefactor, or gratifying his pride by ma-
king her feel her dependance, he always pretended
that he acted only as her agent, and that the money
he paid her, was the produce of a certain fum which
ſhe had in the funds; and the better to ſave appear-
ances, he always took her receipt, and fometimes
would pretend, with great feeming vexation, that
ſhe drew upon him before he had received her mo-
ney from London.
As to his political principles, if his own account
of them is to be believed, he abhorred whiggifm
only in thoſe who made it confift in damning the
church, reviling the clergy, abetting the diffenters,
and ſpeaking contemptibly of revealed religion. He
always declared himſelf againſt a popish fucceffor to
the crown, whatever title he might have by proxi-
mity of blood; nor did he regard the right line, up-
on any other account, than as it was eftabliſhed by
law,
28
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
law, and had much weight in the opinions of the
people; he was of opinion, that when the grievances
fuffered under a prefent government, became greater
than thoſe which might probably be expected from
changing it by violence, a revolution was juſtifiable,
and this he believed to have been the cafe in that
which was brought about by the prince of Orange.
He had a mortal antipathy againſt ſtanding armies
in times of peace, and was of opinion that our liberty
could never be placed upon a firm foundation till
the ancient law fhould be revived, by which our par-
liaments were made annual; he abominated the po-
litical ſcheme of fetting up a monied intereſt in op-
pofition to the landed, and was an enemy to tempo-
rary fufpenfions of the habeas corpus at. If fome af
perities that cannot be juſtified have eſcaped his pen
in papers, which were haftily written in the firſt ar-
dour of his zeal, and often after great provocation
from thoſe who wrote against him, furely they may
without the exertion of angelic benevolence be for-
given.
That he was not at any time a bigot to party, and
that he did not indifcriminately transfer his reſent-
ments from principles to perfons, was fo evident by
his conduct that it was a ufual fubject of raillery to-
wards him, among the miniſters, that he never came
to them without a whig in his fleeve: and though
he does not appear to have aſked any thing for him-
felf, yet he often preffed lord Oxford in favour of Mr.
Addifon, Mr. Congreve, Mr. Row, and Mr. Steel, with
whom, except Mr. Steel, he frequently converfed,
during all lord Oxford's miniftry, chufing his friends
by their perfonal merit, without examining how far
their notions agreed with the politics then
Lett to in vogue; and, in particular, his friend-
fhip with Mr. Addifon continued inviola-
ble, and with as much kindneſs as when
they uſed to meet at lord Halifax's or lord
Pope of
Jan. 10,
1721.
Sommers's,
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
29
Sommers's, who were leaders of the oppofite party.
Among other perfons with whom he was intimate-
by acquainted during this gay part of his life, was
Mrs. Vanbomrigh. She was a lady of good
D.S. 258.
family, the daughter of Mr. Stone, the
commiffioner, and niece to the accomptant-general
of Ireland.
She was the widow of Mr. Bartholomew Vanbom-
righ, firſt a merchant of Amfterdam, and afterwards
of Dublin, who was appointed commiffary of the
ftores by king William, upon his expedition into Ire-
land, a place which, during the war, was computed
to be worth 6000 1. per ann. After the affairs of Ire-
land were ſettled, he was appointed muſter-maſter-
general, and a commiffioner of the revenue, and laid
out about 12,000 1. in the purchaſe of forfeited
eftates but though he received the produce of this
eftate, and enjoyed his appointments thirteen years,
yet when he died, in 1703, his expences had been
fo nearly equal to his revenue, that his
whole fortune, the value of his eſtate in-
cluded, amounted only to 16,000l.
fum he directed, by his will, to be divided
equally between his wife and four children,
of which two were fons and two were
daughters. The fons died foon after their father, and
their ſhare of his fortune fell to the daughters.
This
D.S. 260,
and fol-
lowing.
Orrery 71,
and fol-
lowing.
In 1709, the widow and the two young ladies.
came to England, where they were vifited by perfons
of the first quality, and Swift lodging within a few
doors of their houfe in Bury-ftreet, St. James's, ufed
to be much there, coming and going without cere-
mony, as if he had been one of the family. During
this familiarity, he became infenfibly a kind of
ceptor to the young ladies, particularly the eldeſt,
who was then about twenty years old, was much ad-
dicted to reading, and a great admirer of poetry. In
a perſon of this difpofition, it was natural for fuch.
a cha-
pre-
3.0
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
4
a character as that of Swift to excite admiration, a
paffion which by frequent converfe was ſoftened into
complacency, and complacency was at length im-
proved into love. Love itſelf, perhaps, was in this
cafe complicated with vanity, which would have been
highly gratified by an alliance with the firft wit of
the age; and thus what neither could have effected
alone, was done by the joint effort of both, and fhe
ventured to make the doctor a propofal of marriage.
It is probable, that his connexions with Mrs. John-
Son at this time were fuch, that he could not with
honour accept this propofal, whatever pleaſure or
advantage it might promife; however, it is certain,
he declined it, though without affigning any other
engagement as the reafon.
He appears firſt to have affected to believe her in
jeft, then to have rallied her on fo whimſical a choice,
and at laſt to have put her off without an abfolute re-
fuſal, perhaps, partly, becauſe he was unwilling to give
her pain, and partly, becauſe he could not refuſe her
with a good grace, otherwiſe than by diſcovering ſome
particulars which he was willing to conceal. While he
was in this ſituation, he wrote the poem called Ca-
denus and Vaneſſa, the principal view of which feems
to have been at once to compliment and to rally her,
to apologize for his conduct, and foften a tacit de-
nial, by leaving the event undetermined.
This poem appears to have been written about the.
year 1713, a fhort time before he left Vaneſſa and the
reft of his friends in England, and returned to the
place of his exile, which he always mentioned with
regret.
In the year 1714, Mrs. Vanhomrigh died, and
having lived at an expence much greater than her for-
tune would bear, fhe left fome debts unpaid.
Her two daughters, whofe fortunes fhe had alfo
leffened, the appointed joint executrixes of her will,
an office which however troubleſome the fituation of
their
3
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
31
their affairs obliged them to accept; it appears too,
that they had contracted fome debts in their own
right, which it was not in their power immediately
to pay, and therefore to avoid an arreft they followed
the dean into Ireland.
183.
Upon his arrival to take poffeffion of his deanery,
and his return after the queen's death, he was received,
according to the account of lord Orrery and
Mr. Deane Swift, with every poffible mark D.S. 178,
of contempt and indignation, efpecially by
the populace, who not only reviled and curfed him,
but pelted him with ſtones and dirt as he paſſed along
the ſtreets. The author of the obſervations,
J. R. 87.
on the contrary, affirms, that he was received
by all ranks of men, not only with kindneſs, but ho-
nour, the tories being then in full power, as well in
Ireland as in England, and Swift's ſervice to the church
and credit at court being well known. This indeed
was true, when he went to take poffeffion; but when
he returned to his deanery, the power of the tories
and the dean's credit at court were at an end; cir-
cumſtances which might well cauſe the rabble at leaſt
to forget his fervices to the church; it is certain that
great clamour was then raiſed by the new men againſt
the late miniſtry with whom Swift had been cloſely
connected; they were charged with a defign to bring
in the pretender, and the fame defign was confequently
imputed to Swift, whom it was therefore confidered by
fome as a qualification for preferment to revile and
oppoſe: which party the mob took, whoſe fault it
has never been to coincide implicitly with a court,
pofterity muft judge for themfelves; but it ſeems
probable that theſe accounts however contradictory
may both be true, and that Swift at this time might
be the Sacheveral of Ireland, followed by the mob of
one faction with execrations, and by the other with
fhouts of applaufe.
It
32
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
It is however agreed that the archbishop of Dublin
and fome of his old friends in the chapter fet them-
felves againſt his meaſures with all their force, and
laboured to diſappoint him in the exerciſe of his power
by every art of oppofition and delay. But whatever
prejudice they had conceived againſt him was foon
removed, by the difintereſted integrity of his con-
duct, which was fo apparent and ftriking, that they
foon regarded him with refpect and veneration, and
almoſt implicitly acquiefced in whatever he propofed.
This removal from England to Ireland was the great
event which determined the colour of his life, bound-
ed his views, and fhewed him at once what he might
poffefs, and for what he might hope.
C
There is a time when every man is ftruck with a
fenſe of his mortality, and feels the force of a truth
to which he has confented merely from cuftom with-
out confidering its certainty, or importance. This
time feldom happens in the chearful fimplicity of in-
fancy, or in the firſt impatience of youth, when the
world is all before us,' when every object has the
force of novelty, and every defire of pleaſure receives
auxiliar ftrength from curiofity; but after the firſt
heat of the race, when we ftop to recover from our
fatigue, we naturally confider the ground before us,
and then perceive that at the end of the courſe are
clouds and darkness; that the grave will foon inter-
cept our perſuit of temporal felicity, and that, if we
cannot ſtretch to the goal that is beyond it, we run in
vain, and ſpend our ſtrength for nought. Great dif-
appointments which change our general plan, and
make it neceſſary to enter the world as it were a ſe-
cond time, feldom fail to alarm us with the brevity
of life, and reprefs our alacrity by precluding our
hopes.
The dean whether by the vigour and activity of
his imagination, the multitude of his ideas, or the ar-
dour of his purſuits, eſcaped the force of this thought,
3
till
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
33
Letter to
Boling
broke, Pope
vol. IX.p.
till his retreat to Ireland on the death of the queen;
and then indeed it came upon him with
fuch influence that after fifteen years it con-
it con-
ſtantly recurred when he firſt awaked in
the morning, and was not difmiffed till he
again began to fleep.
105.
As foon as he was fettled at Dublin, Mrs. Johnson re-
moved from the country to be near him, but they
ftill lived in ſeparate houſes; his refidence was at the
deanery, and her's in lodgings, on the other fide of
the river Liffy.
D.S. 108.
The dean kept two publick days every week,
and, though the circle of his vifitors is faid at firſt
to have been ſmall, yet, it foon increaſed,
and always confifted of the beſt company.
Thoſe who were more particularly the companions of
his choice, were fuch as would have done honour to
any character; they were the Grattons, feven brothers,
the fons of doctor Gratton, a venerable and hofpital
clergyman, who gave them all a liberal education.
The eldeſt was a juſtice of peace, and lived reputably
on his patrimony in the country; another was a phy-
fician, and another a merchant, both eminent in their
profeffions; three others were clergymen who had a
competent proviſion in the church, and the youngeſt
was fellow of Dublin college, and mafter of the great
free-ſchool at Enniskilling: They were all perfons of
great merit, as generally acquainted and as much be-
loved as any in the kingdom: The Jacksons, a fami-
ly of which both men and women were genteel, a-
greeable, and well bred, fuch companions
as no wife man ever wanted, if they could
be had: George Rochford, and Peter Lud-
low, men of fortune, learning, wit, humour,
and virtue and Mr. Matthew Lord, deemed the beſt
lay ſcholar of his time: Thefe, with the fellows of
the college, Dr. Wamefley, Dr. Helfham, Dr. Delany,
Dr. Stopford, now bishop of Cloyne, and Dr. Sherridan.
C
.Ro,
and fol-
lowing.
Lady
·34
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
45.
P:
Lady Euftace, Mrs. Moore, lady Betty Rochford, and
Mrs. Ludlow, with Mrs. Johnson, and her friends,
were the perfons with whom Swift fpent his lei-
fure hours, from the year 1714 to the year 1720,
a period in which it has been injuriouſly faid, that his
choice of companions fhewed him of a de-
Orrery, P. praved tafte. There was indeed among his
companions one perfon who could derive
no honour from his lineage, a foundling, whom Swift
therefore uſed to call Melchifedeck, becauſe Melchife-
deck is faid to have had neither father nor mother;
this gentleman's name was Worral, he was a clergy-
man, a maſter of arts, a reader, and a vicar of his
cathedral, and mafter of the fong. He was nearly of
the dean's own ftanding in the college, had good
fenſe and much humour. He was married to a woman
of great fprightlinefs, good-nature, and generoſity,
remarkably cleanly, and elegant in her perfon, in her
houſe and at her table. But there is another parti-
cular in Mr. Worral's character which greatly contri-
buted to his intimacy with the dean. He was a good
walker. The dean ufed this exerciſe in an immoderate
degree, under the notion of its being abfolutely ne-
ceffary not to health only, but to cleanlineſs, by keep-
ing the pores of the ſkin clear, and throwing off im-
purities by perfpiration. Mr. Worral's fituation in the
church naturally engaged his frequent attendance
upon the dean; this attendance commonly ended in
a walk, and the walk in their dining together either
at Mr. Worral's or at the deanery; the dean, being a
fingle man, was oftener a gueft to Mr. Worral, than Mr.
Worral was a gueſt to him; and this brought on an a-
greement, that the dean fhould dine with him when-
ever he would at a certain rate, and invite as many
friends as he pleafed upon the fame terms. This
gentleman is lately dead, and left a large fum of mo-
ney to be difpofed of to publick charities
at the difcretion of his executors; 500!.
D. S.299.
J. R. 92.
2.
of
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
35
J. R. 92.
of which was appropriated to the dean's hofpital.
The dean, when he firft fettled at Dublin, was
in debt, a fituation which ill fuited his fpi-
rit, and determined him to a fevere œco-
nomy, with which this agreement with Worral well
fuited. On his publick days however the dignity of
his ſtation was fuftained with the utmoſt elegance and
decorum, under the direction of Mrs. Johnson, who
yet appeared in the circle without any character di-
ſtinct from the rest of the company. She was how-
ever frequently invited with the dean, whether to
entertainments or parties of pleaſures, though not fo
generally as if ſhe had been his wife; fhe vifited and
received vifits as far as the practice is a mere
D. S. 92.
ritual of good breeding. Her friendſhips
ſeem to have been ftill among the men, but fhe was
treated with great politenefs by the ladies.
The dean's mind had been now fo filled with politics
that he found it impracticable to excel as a preacher,
his firſt and moſt laudable ambition; and frequently
declared that, though he ſometimes attempted to ex-
ert himſelf in the pulpit, yet he could never
rife higher than preaching pamphlets. He 7. R. 42.
was however ſtill a good dean and a good prieſt; he
applied himſelf to the care of his deanery, his cathe-
dral, its regulations, its income and economy, with
great diligence; he renewed the primitive practice of
celebrating the holy communion every Sunday; and at
this facrament he was not only conſtantly preſent,
but he confecrated and adminiſtered it with his own.
hands in a manner equally graceful and devout; he
attended at church every morning, and generally
preached in his turn; he alfo conftantly attended the
performance of the anthem on a Sunday night, though
he did not underſtand muſic, to fee that the choir did
not neglect their duty.
As to his imployment at home, he feems to have
had no heart to apply himſelf to ftudy of any kind,
C 2
but
36
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
but to have refigned himſelf wholly to fuch amufe-
ments as offered, that he might not think of his fitu-
ation, the misfortune of his friends, and the difap-
pointment of his hope; fuch at leaſt is the account
that he gives to Mr. Gay, in his letter dated January 8,
1722-3: I was three years, fays he, reconciling myſelf
to the fcene and buſineſs to which fortune hath con-
demned me, and ftupidity was what I had recourſe to..
It has been fuggefted that the acquaintance he fell.
into with men of learning, made it neceffary for him
about this time to review his Greek and
J. R.101.
Latin, and obtain fome acquaintance with
church hiſtory; but furely he who had ftudied eight
hours a day for feven years, or, according to Mr.
Deane Swift, ten hours a day for nine years,
he who had read and extracted the fathers-
more than fixteen years before, had little oc-
cafion to review his Latin and Greek, or acquaint him-
felf with church hiftory, left he ſhould not fuftain his
character among learned men; for, except it be pre-
tended that others were able to acquire more know-
ledge in leſs time and with lefs labour, it muſt be
allowed that Swift was likely to be always the moſt
knowing of his company. Lord Orrery fays, that he
was little acquainted with the mathematics, and ne-
ver confidered the ſcience except as an ob-
Orrery, 7, ject of ridicule; but the author of the Ob-
fervations affirms on the contrary that he
had acquired confiderable mathematical knowledge,
and that he had feen him more than once
undertake to folve an algebraic problem by
D. S.271,
272, 276.
101.
J.R.101
arithmetic.
The firſt remarkable event of his life that occurred
after his fettlement at the deanery was his marriage to
Mrs. Johnson after a moft intimate friendſhip of more
than fixteen years; this was in the year 1716, and the
ceremony was performed by Dr. Abe, then bishop of
Clogher, to whom the dean had been a pupil in Tri-
3.
nity
4
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
37
Pope's let-
nity College, Dublin. But, whatever were
the motives of this marriage, the dean and ters, 4.
the lady continued to live afterwards juſt in the fame
manner as they had lived before. Mrs. Dingley was
ſtill the infeparable companion of Stella, wherever the
went; and ſhe never refided at the deanery except
when the dean was feized with violent fits of giddi-
nefs, which fometimes lafted near a month.
D. S.262.
Till this time he had continued his vifits to Vaneſſa,
who, though ſhe had fuffered very great pecuniary
loffes, had yet preferved her reputation and her
friends, for fhe was vifited by many perfons of rank,
character, and fortune of both fexes; particularly
Mrs. Conolly, a lady of very high reputation, the late
moſt excellent biſhop of Cloyne, the late
judge Lindſay, and the lord chief justice
Marley. The dean appears ftill to have preferved the
character of her preceptor, to have directed her pro-
grefs in literature, and explained and illuftrated the au-
thors fhe had read; but foon after his marriage he vi-
fited her on another account, he went as an advocate
for Mr. dean Winter, whom he took with him, a gentle-
man who was a profeffed admirer of Vaneſſa, and had
made her fome overtures of marriage; but, though he
had an eftate of near eight hundred pounds a year,
befides three hundred pounds a year preferment in
the church, yet Vaneſſa rejected the propofal
in fuch terms as that it was never repeated.
She was alſo addreffed by Dr. Price, who was
afterwards archbishop of Cafbell, but without fuc-
cefs. From this time the dean's vifits were much
lefs frequent. In the year 1717, her ſiſter died, and,
the whole remains of the family fortune being then
centered in Vaneffa, fhe retired to Selbridge, a finall
houſe and eſtate, about 12 miles diftance from Dub-
lin, which had been purchaſed by her father.
D. S.263,
265.
From this place fhe wrote frequently to the dean,
and he anſwered her letters in thefe letters fhe ftill
C 3
preffed
38
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
1
preffed him to marry her, and in his anſwers he ſtill
rallied, and ſtill avoided a poſitive denial. At length,
however, the infifted with great ardour and great
tenderneſs upon his pofitive and immediate accep-
tance or refufal of her as a wife. The dean wrote
an anſwer, and delivered it with his own hand.
As this letter of Vaneſſa's, which was written in
1723, is a demonſtration that ſhe was then utterly
ignorant of the dean's marriage with Stella, and as
the appears to have known it almoft immediately af-
terwards, it is probable that the dean's anfwer com-
municated the fatal fecret, which at once precluded
all her hopes, and accounted for his former conduct;
it is probable too, that the refentment which he felt
at having it thus extorted from him, was
the cauſe of the manner in which he deli-
vered the letter, for having thrown it down
D.S. 264.
Orrery,
78.
upon her table, he hafted back to his
horſe, and returned immediately to Dublin.
This letter the unhappy lady did not furvive
many weeks; however, fhe was fufficiently compo-
fed to cancel a will that ſhe had made in the dean's
favour, and to make another, in which fhe left her
fortune, which long retirement and frugality had in
a great meaſure reſtored, to her two executors, Dr.
Berkeley, the biſhop of Cloyne, and Mr. Marſhall, one
of the king's ferjeants at law, gentlemen whofe cha-
racters are excellent in the highest degree.
Such was the fate of Vanella, and furely thoſe
whom pity could not reſtrain from being diligent to
load her memory with reproach, to conftrue appear-
ances in the worſt fenfe, to aggravate folly into vice,
and diftrefs into infamy, have not much exalted their
own character, or ftrengthened their claim to the
candour of others. If Vanella, by her fondness for
the gaieties of life, encouraged by the example, and,
perhaps, influenced by the authority of a mother,
leffened her fortune at an age when few have been
difcreet,
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
39
difcreet, it cannot be denied that fhe retrieved it by
prudence and œconomy, at an age when many have
continued diffolute, and was frugal after the habit
of expence had made frugality difficult; if ſhe could
not fubdue a paffion which has tyranniſed over the
ſtrongeſt and pureft minds, ſhe does not appear to
have known that it was criminal, or to have defired
that it might be unlawfully gratified. She preffed a
perſon whom ſhe believed fingle to marry her, but
it does not therefore follow, that he was his con-
cubine, much lefs that fhe defired to be reputed
fo, and was then follicitous to incur the infamy
which has been fince thrown upon her. It cannot
furely be believed that the fhameleſs and reputed
concubine, even of Swift, would have been vifited
by ladies of credit and faſhion, or follicited in mar-
riage by two clergymen of eminence and fortune, to
whom her ftory and character muft have been well
known: beſides, Dr. Berkeley, after having carefully
peruſed all the letters that paffed between them which
Vanela directed to be publifhed, with the poem,
found that they contained nothing that could bring
the leaft difgrace upon the dean; her's, indeed, were
full of paffionate declarations of her love; his con-
tained only compliments, excuſes, apologies, and
thanks for trifling prefents. There was not in either
the leaft trace of a criminal commerce, which, if
there had been any fuch, it would, in fo long an in-
tercourfe, have been extremely difficult to avoid; a..d,
if fhe defired to be reputed his concubine,
it cannot be fuppofed that fhe concealed 0.73.
any letter which would have proved that
ſhe was ſo, eſpecially as it would have gra-
tified her refentment against him, for refufing to
make her his wife.
J.R.121.
122, 123.
If it appears, therefore, that there was no criminal
.commerce between them, and, that fhe did not defire
the world fhould believe there had been any, it fol-
C 4
lows
40
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
lows from her directing the publication of the poem,
of which, perhaps, the poffeffed the only copy, that,
in her fenfe of the verſes, none of them implied a
fact which would difhonour her memory. And this
appears alſo to have been the opinion of
J.R. 123, her executors, who though they fuppreffed
the letters, becauſe they contained nothing
that could do her honour, yet publifhed the poem, by
which, it must therefore be fuppofed, they did not
think she would be difgraced.
It has indeed been faid, that Vaneſſa, from the
time ſhe was dèferted devoted herſelf, like Ariadne,
to Bacchus' and perhaps it is true that in
J.R. 123. the anguifh of diſappointed defire fhe had
recourſe to that dreadful opiate which never
fails to complicate diſeaſe with trouble, to leave the
fufferer more wretched when its operation is at an end
to divide life into frenzy and deſpair, and at once to
haften the approach, and increaſe the terrors of death.
But it cannot be thought, that when ſhe made her will,
fhe was either intoxicated or delirious, becauſe the
perfect exerciſe of reafon is effential to the validity of
the act. No particular of her diſtreſs, therefore, can
weaken the arguments drawn from the direction in her
will to publish the poem and the letters, of which the
gratification of her vanity was fo evidently the mo-
tive, that it is difficult to conceive how it could be
overlooked.
From 1716 to 1720 is a chafm in the dean's life,
which it has been found difficult to fill up. That he
had no need to repeat his college excrcifes, has been
fhewn already; and that, in this interval,
J.R. 101. he went through a voluminous courſe of
ecclefiaftical hiſtory, feems farther improbable, by
a letter to lord Bolingbroke, dated April 5, 1729, in
which it appears, that he was then reading Baronius,
and Baronius was the only piece of church hiftory
that was found in his library. Lord Orrery thinks,
with
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
41
with great reaſon, that he employed this time upon
Gulliver's Travels.
The author of the Obfervations, indeed, fuppofes
the dean's genius to be verging towards a decline,
in the year 1723, and that Gulliver's Travels were
written after that time; but in both theſe ſuppoſi-
tions he is probably miſtaken; though in the former
he feems to be favoured by a paffage in a letter writ-
ten by the dean himſelf to Mr. Pope, dated Sept. 20,
1723.
See vol.
xii. 190.
That his genius was not declining in 1723, ap-
pears by the Draper's letters, which were not writ-
ten till 1724; and of theſe the Obfervator himſelf
fays, his genius never fhone out in greater ftrength
'than on that and the ſubſequent occafions', a truth
which is univerfally acknowledged. That Gulliver's
Travels were written before that time is equally evi-
dent, for Swift went into the north of Ireland early
in the ſpring of 1725, and, in a letter to
doctor Sherriden, during his refidence there
he puts him in mind of his defcription of
the Yaboos, fo that Sherridan muſt have ſeen the Tra-
vels in manufcript, at leaft, in the year 1724. The
dean alſo, in a letter to Mr. Pope, dated Sept. 29,
1725, fays, O! if the world had but a dozen Ar-
buthnots in it, I would burn my Travels. It may
reaſonably be concluded, therefore, that his Travels
were then all written, and that at this time he was
reviewing and retouching them for the prefs, efpecially
as they were publiſhed in 1726; and as he was other-
wife employed in 1724, they must have been written,
at leaſt, before 1723.
Upon the whole, perhaps, it is not an extrava-
gant conjecture, that having, according to his own
account, wholly neglected his ftudies for the firſt
three years of his refidence at the deanery, and
indulged the refentment which his diſappointments
had produced till it could be contained no longer,
he
42
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
he conceived the first notion of expreffing it in fuch
a manner as might correct the enormities which he
expoſed; and with this view immediately began his
Travels, of which the firſt copy was, probably, fi-
Rifhed before the year 1720.
About this time the dean, who had already ac-
quired the character of a humouriſt and a wit, was
firſt regarded with general kindneſs, as the patriot of
Ireland. He wrote a propofal for the univerfal uſe
of Irish manufactures; a tract, which as it was ap-
parently calculated for the fervice of Ireland, and zea-
louſly condemned a facrifice of intereft to England,
made him very popular; but this fervice would not,
perhaps, have been fo long and fo zealouſly remem-
bered, if a profecution had not been commenced a-
gainst the printer *. As foon as this meafure was
taken, the importance of the work was eſtimated by
the diligence of the government to fupprefs it, and
the zeal and integrity of the writer were meaſured by
the danger he had incurred. No publick notice,
however, was taken of the dean on this occafion;
and Waters, the printer, after having been long har-
raffed and impriſoned, at length obtained a noli profequi.
The dean did not again appear in his political cha-
racter till the year 1724. A patent having been ini-
quitously procured by one Wood to coin 180,000 1.
in copper, for the ufe of Ireland, by which he would
have acquired exorbitant gain, and proportionably
impoverished the nation, the dean, in the character
of a Draper, wrote a ſeries of letters to the people,
urging them not to receive this copper money.
Thefe letters united the whole nation in his praiſe,
filled every ſtreet with his effigies, and every voice with
acclamations; and Wood, though he was long fup-
ported by thoſe who proftituted the higheſt delegated
authority to the vileft purpoſes, was at length compel-
* See Vol. X. p. 1.
See the letters and notes, Vol. X.
led
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
43
led to withdraw his patent, and his money was to-
tally fuppreffed.
Upon the arrival of lord Carteret, foon after the
publication of the fourth letter, feveral paffages were
felected as fufficient ground for a profecution, and
his excellency and council publiſhed a proclamation,
offering 300 l. reward for a diſcovery of the author.
This proclamation gave the dean a remarkable op-
portunity to illuftrate his character. It happened
that his butler, whom he had employed as his ama-
nuenfis, and who alone was trufted with the fecret,
went out in the afternoon of the day of the procla-
mation, without leave, and ftaid abroad the whole
night and part of the next day. There was great rea-
fon to fufpect that he had made an information, and
having received his reward, would never return.
The man, however, came home in the evening, and
the dean was adviſed by his friends to take no notice
of his fault, left he ſhould be provoked to a breach of
truſt, from the dread of which his return had juſt
delivered them. But the dean rejected this coun-
fel with the utmoſt diſdain, and, commanding the
man into his prefence, ordered him immediately to
ftrip off his livery and leave the houſe. You villain,
faid he, I know I am in your power, and for that
very reaſon I will the lefs bear with your infolence
or neglect.
The man, in very fubmiffive terms, confeffed that
he had been drinking all night, and intreated to be
forgiven, but Swift was inexorable; he then begged
that he might be confined in fome part of the houſe
fo long as the proclamation could intitle him to any
reward, left when he was driven from his fervice,
and deſtitute of another, the temptation might be too
ſtrong for his virtue, and his diſtreſs might involve
him in a crime which he moſt abhorred. Swift, how-
ever, was ſtill inexorable, and the man was dimif-
fed. During all the time of danger, Swift obftinate-
ly
44
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
•
ly refuſed to contribute one farthing towards his fup-
port, nor could he be perfuaded to fee his face, but
when the time limited in the proclamation was ex-
pired, he was permited to return to his fervice. Soon
afterwards he was called haftily up by the dean,
who, without any, preface, again ordered him to
ftrip off his livery, put on his own cloaths, and
then come to him again. The poor fellow, though
he was greatly aftonifhed at this proceeding, knew
Swift too well to expoftulate, and therefore, with
whatever reluctance, did as had been commanded.
When he returned, the dean ordered the other fer-
vants to be called up, who immediately attended,
expecting that the butler was to be difmiffed in ter-
rorem, and that they ſhould be warned in very ſe-
vere terms of his offence. Swift, as ſoon as they had
ranged themſelves before him, ordered them to take
notice, that Robert was no longer his fervant; he is
now, faid the dean, Mr. Blakely, the verger of St.
Patrick's cathedral, a place which I give him as a
reward for his fidelity. The value of this place is be-
tween thirty and forty pounds a year; how-
D.S. igo. ever, Robert would not quit his maſter, but
continued to be his butler fome years afterwards. In
this inſtance the dean exerciſed his pride, his fortitude,
and his equity, in a manner peculiar to himself; and
though there are many who would equally have re-
warded fuch fidelity, there are few who would have
ventured to wait the iffue of fo fevere and dangerous
a probation.
From this time the dean's influence in Ireland was
almoſt without bounds, he was confulted in whatever
related to domeftic policy, and in particular to trade.
The weavers always confidered him as their patron
and legiſlator, after his propofal for the ufe of Iriſh
manufactures, and came frequently in a body to re-
ceive his advice in fettling the rates of their ſtuffs,
and the wages of their journeymen; and when elec-
tions
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
45
tions were depending for the city of Dublin, many
corporations refufed to declare themſelves, till they
knew his fentiments and inclinations. Over the po-
pulace he was the moſt abfolute monarch that ever
governed men, and he was regarded by perfons of
every rank with veneration and eſteem.
It appears by many of his writings, that he lived
in great friendſhip and familiarity with lord Carteret
during his lieutenancy, notwithſtanding his lordſhip
had figned the proclamation to difcover him, as the
writer of the Draper's Letters. Swift, indeed, remon-
ftrated againſt this proceeding, and once afked his
lordſhip how he could concur in the profecution of a
poor honeft fellow, who had been guilty of no other
crime than that of writing three or four letters for the
inftruction of his neighbours, and the good of his
country; to this question his excellency elegantly
replied, in the words of Virgil,
Moliri.
Regni novitas me talia cogit
He was equally diligent to recommend his friends to
lord Carteret as he had been to recommend
J.
them to lord Oxford, and he did it with the D.S.270.
fame dignity and freedom. Pray, my lord,, faid he,
one day, have you the honour to be acquainted with
the Grattons? My lord anſwered he had not; Why
then, pray, my lord,, faid Swift, take care
to obtain it; it is of great confequence: the 7. R. 95.
Grattons, my lord, can raife ten thouſand men.
obtained a living for his friend Dr. Sherri-
dan, and he recommended feveral others of
whom he knew nothing but that they were
good men.
He
See vol.
xii. 184.
He uſed alfo to remonftrate with great freedom a-
gainſt fuch meaſures as he diſapproved, and lord Car-
teret having gained the advantage of him in fome dif-
pute concerning the diftreffes of Ireland, he cried out
in a violent paffion, What the vengeance brought you
among
46
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
•
among us? Get you gone, get you gone; pray God
Almighty ſend us our boobies back again;
J. R. 25. a reply which fhewed at once the turn, the
ftrength, and the virtue of his mind, as it was a fine
compliment to the force of reafon, by which he had
been juſt foiled, and was expreffed with all the vehe-
mence of his temper, and all the peculiarity of his wit.
He was feveral times in England on a viſit to Mr.
Pope, after his fettlement at the deanery, particularly
in the years 1726 and 1727.
There is a paffage in one of his letters to Dr. Sherri-
dan, during his vifit in 1726, by which it appears,
that he then had fuch an offer of a fettlement, in
the midft of his friends, within twelve miles of Lon-
don, as, if he had been ten years younger, he would
gladly have accepted: But I am now, fays he, too
old for new ſchemes, and eſpecially fuch as would bri-
dle me in my freedoms and liberalities. He
had alſo an invitation from lord Bolingbroke
to ſpend a winter with him at his houſe on
the banks of the Loire in France; and this
he would have accepted, but that he received an ac-
count from Ireland, that Mrs. Johnfon was dangerouf-
ly ill.
See vol.
xii. 206,
207.
xxi. vol.
Mrs. Johnson's conftitution was tender and deli-
cate, and, as the dean himſelf ſays, fhe had not the
See Lett. Stamina vita; in the year 1724, ſhe began
viſibly to decay, and, in the year 1726, was
thought to be dying. The dean received
208. the news with agonies not to be felt but
by the tendereſt and moſt ardent friendſhip, nor con-
ceived but by the moft lively imagination, and im-
mediately hafted back into Ireland.
xii. P.
•
It happened, however, that Mrs. Johnson, contra-
ry to the opinion of her phyſician, recovered a mo-
derate fhare of health, and the dean, probably, to
compleat fome deſign which in his hafte he had left
unfiniſhed, returned again to England in 1727.
From
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
47
See vol.
From England he was once more about
to fet out for France upon lord Bolingbroke's xii. 214.
invitation, when news arrived of the king's
death.
He had attended the late queen while fhe was prin-
ceſs in his former excurfions to England, and he had
feen her twice in one week by her royal highneſs's
command in this: fhe had always treated the dean
with great civility, and the dean had treated her with
his uſual and peculiar frankneſs. The third day af-
ter the news of the late king's death, he attended at
court, and kiffed the king and the queen's hand upon
their acceffion, and was blamed by his friends for de-
ferring it fo long.
What profpect he had of a change in publick af-
fairs on this event, or of any advantage which fuch a
change might produce to himſelf or his friends, does
not appear, but he was earneftly intreated to delay his
journey; and, when he had again determined to fet
out, he was upon fome new incidents again prevailed
upon not to go, by the vehement perfuafion of fome
perfons, whom, he fays, he could not difobey. Ma-
ny ſchemes were propofed, in which he was eagerly
follicited to engage, but he received them coldly;
not as it appears becauſe he was determined no more
to enter into publick life, but becauſe the ſchemes.
themſelves were fuch as he did not approve: how-
ever, in the ſame letter, in which he fays, that, if the
king had lived ten days longer, he fhould not have
dated it from London, but Paris, he fays, that his
fhare in the hurry of the time would not be long,
and that he ſhould foon return.
He was ſoon after feized with one of his fits of
giddinefs and deafnefs, a calamity which was great-
ly aggravated by the news that Mrs. Johnson was a-
gain fo ill, that the phyficians defpaired of her life.
Upon this occafion he relapfed into the agonies of
mind which he had felt the year before; he expected
by
48
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
by the next poſt to hear that ſhe was dead, and in-
treated that he might be told no particulars, but the
event in general, for that, his age being then within
three months of fixty, his weaknefs and his friend-
fhip would bear no more. As he deſpaired of fee-
ing her alive, he determined not to return to Ireland
fo foon as he had intended, but to pass the winter ei-
ther near Saliſbury-Plain, or in France. That he might
not be interrupted by company, and condemned to
the torment of fuppreffing his forrow, to preferve
the rules of good breeding, he quitted the houſe of
Mr. Pope at Twickenham, and retired to a village
near London, with a female relation for his nurfe.
The next letter that he received, he kept an hour in
his pocket before he could fufficiently fortify him-
felf againſt the fhock which he expected when he
fhould open it: however, as Stella's life ebbed by
flow degrees, and fometimes feemed at a ſtand, if not
to flow, his hope of a parting interview revived, and
he fet out for Ireland as foon as he was able to travel.
He found her alive, but, after having languiſhe
about two months longer, fhe expired on the 28th of
January, 1727, in the 44th year of her age, regret-
ed by the dean with fuch excefs of affection and ef-
teem as the keeneſt fenfibility only could feel, and
the moſt excellent character excite.
Beauty, which alone has been the object of uni-
fal admiration and defire, which alone has elevated
the poffeffor from the loweft to the higheſt ftation,
has given dominion to folly, and armed caprice with
the power of life and death, was in Stella only the
ornament of intellectual greatnefs; and wit, which
has rendered deformity lovely, and conferred honour
upon vice, was in her only the decoration of ſuch
virtue, as without either wit or beauty would have
compelled affection, eſteem, and reverence.
Her ftature was tall, her hair and eyes black, her
complexion fair and delicate, her features regular,
foft,
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
49
foft, and animated, her ſhape eaſy and elegant, and
her manner feminine, polite, and graceful; there
was a natural mufick in her voice, and a pleaſing
complacency in her aſpect when ſhe ſpoke.
As to her wit, it was confeffed by all her acquain-
tance, and particularly by the dean, that fhe never
failed to fay the beſt thing that was ſaid whenever ſhe
was in company, though her companions were ufu-
ally perfons of the beft underſtanding in the kingdom.
But this dangerous power was under the direction
of ſuch ſweetneſs of temper, fuch general kindneſs,
and reluctance to give pain, that fhe never indulged
it at the expence of another.
Neither was her wit merely of the colloquial kind;
fhe had great force of poetical fancy, could range
her thoughts in a regular compofition, and expreſs
them in correct and harmonious verfe; of her wit in
converfation fome inftances will be found in vol. xii.
under the name of Bons Mots, and two ſpecimens of
her poetry are added as an appendix to this tract.
Her virtue was founded upon humanity, and her
religion upon reafon; her morals were uniform, but
not rigid, and her devotion was habitual, but not
oftentatious.
Why the dean did not fooner marry this moft ex-
cellent perfon; why he married her at all; why his
marriage was fo cautiously concealed, and why he
was never known to meet her but in the preſence of
a third perſon, are enquiries which no man can an-
fwer, or has attempted to anſwer without abfurdi-
ty, and are therefore unprofitable objects of ſpecu-
lation.
His peculiar connexion with Mrs. Johnson does,
indeed, appear to have been ſuſpected, if not known,
by his particular acquaintance: One of whom had
the courage, indirectly, to blame his conduct fe-
veral times, by fetting before him the example of a
clergyman of diftinguiſhed merit, who married near-
D
ly
50
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
J. R.:63.
ly in the fame circumſtances; but, inftead of con-
cealing his marriage, retired into thrifty
lodgings till he had made a proviſion for
his wife, and then returned to the world, and became
eminent for his hofpitality and charity.
The dean, whether moved by theſe repreſentati-
ons, or whether by any other motive, did at length
earneſtly defire that the might be publickly owned
as his wife; but as her health was then de-
J. R. 56.
clining, and his economy become more
fevere, ſhe ſaid it was too late, and infifted that they
ſhould continue to live as they had lived before
to this the dean, in his turn, confented,
J.R.288.
and fuffered her to difpofe intirely of her
own fortune by her own name to a publick charity
when she died.
It appears by feveral little incidents, that Stella
regretted and difapproved the dean's conduct, and
that ſhe ſometimes reproached him with unkindneſs;
for to fuch regret and reproach he certainly alludes
in the following verfes on her birth-day, in 1726:
O, then, whatever Heav'n intends,
Take pity on your pitying friends :
Nor let your ills affect your mind,
To fancy they can be unkind;
Me, furely, me you ought to spare,
Who gladly would your fufferings fhare,
It ſeems, indeed, to be generally agreed, that
Stella was deſtroyed by the peculiarity of her circum-
ſtances, and that the fabrick, however weak by the
delicacy of its compofition, would not have fallen fo
foon, if the foundation had not been injured by the
flow minings of regret and vexation.
But it is alfo generally allowed that, in this in-
ſtance as in every other, the dean's intention was up-
right, though his judgment might be erroneous;
and
;
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
51
and, whatever cenfure his behaviour to Stella may
draw upon him, it muſt inſure him fome praiſe, and
fecure him againſt fome calumny, for it is a demon-
ſtration that he was the abfolute mafter of thoſe paſ
fions, by which the greateſt have been inſlaved, and
the beſt ſometimes corrupted; and, if he could ab-
ftain from gratifying thefe paffions with a lady
whom he moſt admired, after the gratification was
become lawful, he cannot with any appearance of
reaſon be ſuppoſed to have indulged the fame paf-
fion where there was lefs beauty to attract, and leſs
affection to urge, where it would have been attended
with guilt and infamy, where the motives were leſs
and the obſtacles more.
From the death of Stella, his life became much more
retired, and the aufterity of his temper naturally in-
creaſed; he could not join in the focial chearfulneſs
of his publick days, or bear fuch an intrufion upon
his own melancholy as the chearfulneſs of others;
thefe entertainments therefore were diſcontinued, and
he fometimes avoided the company of his moſt in-
timate friends. But, when the lenient hand of time
had allayed the anguiſh of his mind, he feems to have
regretted the effects of its firft violence, and to wish
for the return of thoſe whom his impatience D.S.307.
had baniſhed. In the year 1732, he com
plains in a letter to Mr. Gay, that he had a large houſe
and ſhould hardly find one vifitor, if he was not
able to hire them with a bottle of wine. I generally,
fays he, dine alone, and am thankful if a friend will
paſs the evening with me. He complains alfo about
the fame time in a letter to Mr. Pope, that he was
in danger of dying poor and friendlefs, even his fe-
male friends having forfaken him; which, as he ſays,
was what vexed him moft. Thefe complaints were
afterwards repeated in a ſtrain of yet greater fenfibi-
lity and felf-pity: All my friends, fays he, have for-
faken me.
D 2
V'er-
52
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
Vertiginofus, inops, furdus, malè gratus amicis.
Deaf, giddy, helplefs, left alone,
To all my friends a burden grown.
Yet he confeffes that, though he was lefs patient in
folitude, he was harder to be pleafed with
D. S.309. company, fo that even now perhaps his be-
haviour did not much invite thofe whom before it
had driven away.
His complaint of being forfaken by his female
friends fhews that at this time his houfe was not a
conftant feraglio of very virtuous women, who attend-
ed him from morning till night as my lord Orrery
has afferted; and it feems to imply that the Obferva-
tor is alſo miſtaken, when he ſays, that females were
rarely admitted into his houfe, and never came but up-
on very particular invitations, The abſence of perfons
whom he kept at fuch diftance, and fo rarely admitted,
could ſcarce be fuppofed to vex him moft; nor is it eafy
129.
to conceive in what fenfe they could be faid
FR128, to forfake him, who never came but upon
particular invitation. However, as to the
feraglio, the Obfervator affirms in the moſt folemn
manner, and from frequent intercourfe with the dean
and long intimacy with his molt intimate friends,
that lord Orrery was grofly miſinformed, and that
no fuch ever fubfifted; Mrs. Whiteway, a near relati-
on, who came to live with him fome time after Stella's
death, being the only female in his family except fer-
vants.
As he lived much in folitude, he frequently amufed
himſelf with writing, as appears by the dates of many
of his pieces which are fubfequent to this time; and
it is very remarkable that although his mind was
certainly greatly depreffed, and his principal enjoy-
ment at an end, when Mrs. Johnfcn died, yet there is
an air of trifling and levity in fome of the pieces
which he wrote afterwards, that is not to be found
in
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
53
In any other; fuch in particular are his directions to
fervants, and ſeveral of his letters to Dr. Sheridan.
See his
letters on
Stella's
As he was undoubtedly much more tenderly and
ftrictly connected with Stella than with any other wo-
man, ſo his friendſhip feems to have been
more intimate and unreſerved with Dr. She-
ridan than with any other man; his letters
to him are evidently the ſpontaneous effuſi-
ons of his heart, whether he was chearful
or fad, and ſeem to imply a perfect acquaint- Achefon's.
ance with every peculiarity of his circumſtances.
fickness,
and from
fir Arthur
Dr. Sheridan was a clergyman of confiderable parts
and great learning; he had in particular an extenſive
and critical knowledge of the language and hiftory of
the ancient Greeks and Romans, which he taught with
great fuccefs in a grammar ſchool of which he was ma-
ſter; and it was remarked that his ſcholars brought to
the univerſity, not only much learning but good mo-
rals. This gentleman was by nature fuited to Swift
companion in the highest degree; he had a vein of
humour that was a conftant occafion of merriment, he
had an abſence of mind, which rendered him a per-
petual object of raillery, and an indolent good-nature
which made him unapt to take offence; he was al-
ways diſpoſed to be chearful, and therefore readily
concurred in the entertainment of Swift's hours of
pleaſantry; and could without much pain or difplea-
fure give way to his petulance, or his coldness, in his
paroxyfms of fretfulneſs and referve; he alfo greatly
contributed to Swift's amufement by little ſprightly
pieces of the inferior kind of poetry, which he was
always writing; and yet more to his employment by
hints and materials which he was every moment
throwing out.
With this eafy, negligent, contented creature Swift
paffed much of his time as well during Mrs. Johnson's
life as afterwards; and though there is in general an
D 3
air
54
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
air of fuperiority in his letters, and might be fone-
times, in his behaviour, a want of that complacency
which no familiarity fhould exclude; yet it appears
that the dean did not hold Sheridan cheap. Sheridan
he loved for his own merit, and was content to have
deferved his love by the intereft of another;
"Stella, fays he, loved you well, and a great
fhare of the little merit I have with you is
owing to her follicitations.
Vol. XII.
209.
See Vol.
VII, p.
251.
29
In the year 1733, when an attempt was made to
repeal the teſt act in Ireland, the diffenters often af-
fected to call themſelves brother proteftants
and fellow Chriftians with the members of
the eſtabliſhed church. Upon this occafion
the dean wrote a fhort copy of verſes, in
which there is a paffage that fo provoked one Bet-
teſworth, a lawyer, and member of the Irish parlia-
ment, that he fwore in the hearing of many perfons to
revenge himſelf either by murdering or maiming the
author: and, for this purpofe, he engaged his foot-
man with two ruffians to fecure the dean wherever he
could be found. As foon as this oath and attempt
of Bettefworth were known, thirty of the nobility and
gentry of the liberty of St. Patrick's waited upon
the dean in form, and prefented a paper ſubſcribed
with their names, in which they folemnly engaged, in
behalf of themſelves and the reft of the liberty, to de-
fend his perſon and fortune, as the friend and bene-
factor of his country.
Such was the reverence and affection with which
Swift was treated in his old age, not by domeftics or
dependants whom the hope of fome future advantage
might induce to diffemble, but by perfons of rank
and fortune, with whom he had no connexion, but
as a benefactor to the publick, and who, as they had
nothing future to hope, could be prompted only by
gratitude for the paſt, fuch gratitude as was never yet
3
excited
LIFE OF 55
•
Dr. SWIFT.
excited but by characters very different from actual
miſanthropy or fordid ſelfiſhneſs.
When this paper was delivered, Swift was in bed
giddy and deaf, having been fome time before feized
with one of his fits; but he dictated an anſwer in which
there is all the dignity of habitual pre-eminence, and
all the reſignation of humble piety; though he ac-
knowledged the kindneſs of his friends, yet he de-
clared his truft to be in God: he bewailed his incapa-
city to receive and thank them as in juſtice and gra-
titude he ought; and concluded with a fhort but pa-
thetic prayer for their temporal and eternal happi-
nefs.
Theſe fits of giddineſs and deafneſs, which were
the effects of his furfeit before he was twenty years old,
became more frequent and more violent in proporti-
on as he grew into years. And in 1736, while he was
writing a fatire on the Irish parliament, which he
called the Legion Club, he was feized with one of
theſe fits, the effect of which was fo dreadful that
he left the poem unfiniſhed, and never afterwards
attempted a compofition either in verſe or profe that
required a courfe of thinking, or perhaps more than
one fitting to finiſh.
From this time his memory was perceived gradu-
ally to decline, and his paffions to pervert his under-
ſtanding; a calamity to which many particulars feem
to have concurred.
His folitude which has been already accounted for,
prevented the diverfion of his mind by converfation
from brooding over his diſappointments, and aggra-
vating every injury that he had fuffered by all the
circumſtances which ingenious refentment, if it does
not find, is apt to create a refolution which he had
taken, and to which he obftinately adhered, not to
wear ſpectacles, precluded the entertainment which he
might otherwiſe have found in books, and his gid-
dinefs, though it was a mere corporal diforder, pre-
D 4
.vented
56
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
vented the employment of his mind in compofition.
In this fituation his thoughts feem to have been con-
fined to the contemplation of his own mifery which
he felt to be great, and which in this world he knew
to be hopeless; the fenfe of his prefent condition was
neceffarily complicated with regret of the pait, and
with refentment both againſt thoſe by whom he had
been baniſhed, and thofe who had deferted him in his
exile. A fixed attention to one object long continued
is known to deftroy the ballance of the mind, and it
is not therefore ftrange that Swift ſhould by degrees
become the victim of outrageous madneſs.
That he was weary of life, appears by many paf-
fages in his letters and expreffions to his friends. In
1739, three years after his memory firft declined, he
had been ſtanding with a clergyman under a very large
heavy pier glaſs, which, juft as they moved to another
part of the room, fell down and broke to pieces; the
clergyman, ftruck with a ſenſe of the danger from
which they had efcaped, turned to Swift and cried
out, What a mercy it is that we moved the moment
we did; for, if we had not, we ſhould certainly have
been killed. The dean replied, that, as to himſelf, he
was forry he had changed ground, and wifhed the
glafs had fallen upon him.
Till about the time of this accident, though his
memory was become very defective, and his paffions
more violent, yet his converſation was ſtill ſprightly
and fenfible, but mingled with more fatire, and that
fatire was more bitter; he alfo continued to corre-
ſpond by letter with his friends in England, particu-
larly Mr. Pope, with whom he had contracted an
early friendship which continued till his death. It has
been faid that towards the end of their lives it grew
cold, but the dean in a letter to lord Orrery, which he
wrote a fhort time before his incapacity, fays, "When
you fee my dear friend Pope, tell him I will anfwer
his letter foon: I love him above all the rest of mankind.”
He
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
57
He has alſo called Mr. Pope his dearest friend in
his will, and Mr. Pope in a letter which was written.
about the ſame time makes this requeſt: "Affure him
[the dean] the world has nothing in it I admire fo
much; nothing the lofs of which I ſhould regret fo
much as his GENIUS and his VIRTUES.
Orrery, p.
98.
his rea-
Orrery,
94, 186.
In the beginning of the year 1741, his underſtand-
ing was fo much impaired, and his paffions fo much
increaſed, that he was utterly incapable of converfati-
on. Strangers were not permitted to ap-
proach him, and his friends found it ne-
ceffary to have guardians appointed of his
perſon and eſtate. Early in the year 1742,
fon was wholly fubverted, and his rage be-
came abfolute madneſs. The laft perfon
whom he knew was Mrs. Whiteway, and
the fight of her when he knew her no more threw him
into fits of rage fo violent and dreadful that ſhe was
forced to leave him, and the only act of kindneſs that
remained in her power was to call once or twice a
week at the deanery, inquire after his health, and fee
that proper care was taken of him; fometimes fhe
would fteal a look at him when his back was towards
her, but did not dare to venture into his fight. He
would neither eat nor drink while the fervant who
brought him his proviſions ſtayed in the room; his
meat, which was ferved up ready cut, he would fome-
times fuffer to ftand an hour on the table before he
would touch it, and at laft he would eat it walking,
for, during this deplorable ſtate of his mind, it was his
conftant cuſtom to walk ten hours a day.
In October 1742, after this phrenfy had continued
feveral months, his left eye fwelled to the fize of an
egg, and the lid appeared to be fo much inflamed and
difcoloured, that the furgeon expected it to mortify;
feveral large boils alfo broke out on his arms and his
body. The extreme pain of this tumour kept him
waking near a month, and during one week it was
with
58
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
with difficulty that five perfons kept him, by mere
force, from tearing out his own eyes.
It has been obſerved that corporal pain, whether
by forcing the mind from that object which has en-
groffed it, or by whatever means, has reſtored luna-
ticks to the uſe of reafon; and this effect, in a great
degree, it produced upon the dean, for juſt before
the tumour perfectly ſubſided, and the pain left him,
he knew Mrs. Whiteway, took her by the hand, and
ſpoke to her with his former kindneſs; that day, and
the following, he knew his phyſician and furgeon,
and all his family, and appeared to have fo far re-
covered his underſtanding and temper, that the fur-
geon was not without hopes he might once more en-
joy fociety, and be amused by the company of his old
friends. This hope, however, was but of ſhort du-
ration, for a few days afterwards he funk into a ſtate
of total infenfibility, flept much, and could not,
without great difficulty, be prevailed upon to walk
croſs the room. This was the effect of another bodily
diſeaſe, his brain being loaded with water. Mr. Ste-
vens, an ingenious clergyman of Dublin, pronounc-
ed this to be the cafe during his illneſs,
94,95,96, and, upon opening his body, it appeared
97, 98.
that he was not mistaken; but, though he
J.R. 149. often entreated the dean's friends and phy-
ficians that his head might be trepanned and the wa-
ter diſcharged, no regard was paid to his opinion or
his entreaty.
Orrery,
•
After the dean had continued filent a whole year,
in this ftate of helplefs idiocy, his houfe-keeper went
into his room on the 30th of November, in the morn-
ing, and told him that it was his birth-day, and that
bonfires and illuminations were preparing to cele-
brate it as ufual; to this he immediately replied,
It is all folly, they had better let it alone.
Some other inftances of fhort intervals of fenfibi-
lity
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
59
lity and reafon, after his madneſs had ended in ſtu-
por, feem to prove that his diforder, whatever it
was, had not deftroyed, but only fufpended the pow-
ers of his mind.
He was fometimes vifited by Mr. Deane Swift, a
relation; and about Christmas, 1743, he feemed de-
firous to ſpeak to him. Mr. Swift then told him he
came to dine with him, and Mrs. Ridgeway, 'the
houſe-keeper, immediately faid, Won't you give Mr.
Swift a glass of wine, fir? To this he made no an-
fwer, but fhewed that he understood the question, by
fhrugging up his fhoulders, as he had been uſed to
do when he had a mind a friend fhould fpend the
evening with him, and which was as much as to fay,
You will ruin me in wine. Soon after he again endea-
voured, with a good deal of pain, to find words,
but at last, after many efforts, not being able, he
fetched a deep figh, and was afterwards filent. A
few months afterwards, upon his houfe-keeper's re-
moving a knife, as he was going to catch at it, he
fhrugged up his fhoulders, and faid, "I am what I
am, I am what I am," and, in about fix minutes, re-
peated the fame words two or three times.
In the year 1744, he now and then called his fer-
vant by his name, and once attempting to ſpeak to
him, but not being able to exprefs his meaning, he
ſhewed ſigns of much uneafinefs, and at laft faid, I
C
<
am a fool.' Once, afterwards, as his fervant was
taking away his watch, he ſaid, Bring it here; and,
when the fame fervant was breaking a large hard
coal, he faid, That is a ſtone, you blockhead.'
From his time he was perfectly filent, till the lat-
ter end of October, 1745, and then died, without the
leaſt pang or convulfion, in the 78th year of his age.
By his will, which is dated in May, 1740, juſt be-
fore he ceafed to be a reaſonable being, he left about
12001. in fpecifick legacies, and the reft of his for-
tune,
60
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
tune, which amounted to about 11000l. to erect
and endow an hofpital for idiots and lunaticks.
He was buried in the great ifle of St. Patrick's ca-
thedral, under a ftone of black marble,
infcribed with an epitaph in Latin, written
by himſelf.
See vol.
xii. 367.
From this narrative of his life, and from his
works, to which it is prefixed, the ftriking peculia-
rities of his character may eaſily be collected; but
there are fome incidents which relate to his conver-
fation, and fome which refpect his perfon and pri-
vate œconomy, which ſhould by no means be o-
mitted.
In company, he neither wrapped himſelf up in his
own importance, without deigning to communicate
his knowledge, or exert his wit; nor did he engrofs
the converfation by perpetual and overbear-
D.S. 366. ing loquacity. His rule was never to ſpeak
J.R. 203.
more than a minute at a time, and then to
wait, at leaſt, as long for others to take up the con-
verfation, after which he had a right to ſpeak again.
His colloquial ftile, like that of his writings, was
clear, forcible, and concife. He greatly excelled in
punning; a talent, which, he ſaid, no man affected
to defpife, but thoſe that were without it; and his
converfation would have furniſhed a more excellent
compendium of this fpecies of wit, than was ever yet
compiled, or, perhaps, ever will; fome of thefe fal-
lies of his imagination are ſtill remembered, and, a-
mong others, the following, which may ferve for
examples.
A
He happened to be at the caftle, in the tieutenan-
cy of the earl of Pembroke, when a learned phyfician
was haranguing his excellency upon the nature and
qualities of bees, which he was perpetually calling
a nation and commonwealth: Yes, my lord, ſays
Swift, they are a nation, and of great antiquity; you
know
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT:
61
know, my lord, Mofes takes notice of them; he num-
bers the Hivites among the nations which Joshua was
appointed to conquer.
He was another time in company with a lady,'
whofe long train happened to fweep down a fine fid-
dle, and break it, upon which he immediately cried
out,
Mantua væ miferæ nimium vicina Cremone.
But his converfation abounded with turns of wit
of an higher kind; being one day at a ſheriff's feaſt,
who, after ſeveral other toafts had been
drank, called out to him, Mr. dean, The J.R.214.
trade of Ireland: the dean turned about, and imme-
diately anſwered, Sir, I drink no memories *.
He greatly admired the talents of the late duke of
Wharton, and hearing him, one day, recount many
of his frolicks : Aye, my lord, faid he, you 7.R.216.
have had many frolicks, but let me recom-
mend one more to you, take a frolick to be virtuous. 【
affure you it will do you more honour than all the reſt.
The dean alſo greatly excelled in telling a ſtory;
and though in the latter part of his life he
was very apt to tell his ftories too often,
J.R. 218.
yet his wit, as well as his virtue, was always fupe-
rior to the wretched expedients of thoſe deſpicable
babblers, who are perpetually attempting to put off
double entendre and prophanenefs for humour and
wit. His converfation was in the highest degree
chaſte, and wholly free from the leaft tincture of ir-
religion.
As he was zealous to preferve all the delicacies of
converfation, he was always beft pleaſed when fome
of the company were ladies; and in one of his
* Dr. Brown, bishop of Cork,
had just then printed two pam-
phlets and preached feveral fer-
3
mons, in which drinking to me.
mories was zealouſly condemn
ed.
letters
62
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
letters to lord Oxford, he fays, fince women have
been left out of all our meetings, except parties of
play, or where worſe deſigns are carried on, our
converfation has very much degenerated.
D.S. 366.
And, in this inftance, his example is a re-
proof to thoſe pedants, who fuppofe that women
are never in their proper fphere, but in the dreffing
room or the nurſery.
If the converfation turned upon ferious fubjects,
he was neither petulant in the debate, nor
D.S. 368. negligent of the iffue. He would liften with
great attention to the arguments of others, and whe-
ther he was or was not engaged as a difputant himſelf,
he would recapitulate what had been faid, ftate the
queſtion with great clearness and precifion, point out
the controverted particular, and appeal to the opinion
either of ſome neutral perfon, or of the majority.
It is, however, true, that he kept his friends in
fome degree of awe, and yet he was more open to
admonition than flattery, if it was offered without
arrogance, and by perfons of whofe ability and ho-
nefty he had no doubt. In his poem of
J. R. 19. Baucis and Philemon, which does not con-
fift of quite two hundred verſes, Mr. Addiſon made
him blot out fourſcore, add fourſcore, and alter four-
ſcore. It was cuftomary with his friends to make
him ſome little annual prefent on his birth-day, fome-
thing, according to his own definition of a prefent,
which was of no great value, but which could not
be bought; and Dr. Delany, foon after he was ad-
mitted to fome degree of intimacy, fent him, with
fuch a memorial of his eſteem, fome verſes, in which
he upbraids him, though with great delicacy, for
mifapplying his talents; and admonishes him to turn
the force of ridicule of which he was fo great a maſ-
ter, upon thoſe who had laboured to employ it a-
gainſt the facred doctrines of Chriftianity. The dean,
as
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
63
as he had fuffered Addifon's correction with appro-
bation, received this admonition with kindneſs; he
fighed, and faid, with great appearances of regret,
that it was too late, and from that day took all oc-
cafions to diſtinguiſh Delany by the name of Friend.
He had, indeed, no ſkill in mufick, and fo was
not able to entertain his company with a fong, to
which ſome men of great dignity, and great parts,
have condefcended: but his power of ridicule ex-
tended even to mufick, of which he gave an inftance
too fingular to be forgotten:
Dr. Pratt, who was then provoft of Dublin col-
lege, had acquired much of the Italian tafte for mu-
fick in his travels, and Tom Roffengrave, a celebrated
performer, being juft returned from Italy, played a
voluntary at St. Patrick's cathedral, where Dr. Pratt
heard him, and Swift was alſo prefent: the doctor
happened to dine at the deanery the fame day, and
was fo extravagant in his encomiums on Roffengrave's
voluntary, that feveral of the company ſaid, they
wiſhed they had heard it: Do you, ſaid Swift, then
you ſhall hear it ftill, and immediately he fung out
fo lively, and yet fo ridiculous an imitation of it,
that all the company were kept in continual laugh-
ter till it was over, except one old gentleman, who
fat with great compofure, and, though he liftened,
yet fhewed neither curiofity nor approbation. After
the entertainment, he was asked, by fome of the
company, How it happened that he had been no
more affected by the mufick? To which he anſwer-
ed with great gravity, That he had heard Mr. Rof-
fengrave himſelf play it before.
Such was Swift as a companion; as a mafter, he
was not lefs remarkable or meritorious.
As he expected punctual, ready, and implicit obe-
dience, he always tried his fervants when he hired
them by fome teft of their humility. Among other
queſtions, he always asked whether they underſtood
cleaning
64
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
cleaning fhoes; becaufe, faid he, my kitchen-wench
has a fcullion that does her drudgery, and one part
of the buſineſs of my groom and footman is con-
ſtantly to clean her fhoes by turns: if they fcrupled
this, the treaty was at an end; if not, he gave them
a farther hearing.
His kitchen-wench, however, was his cook, a wo-
man of a large fize, robuft conftitution, and coarfe
features, whofe face was very much feamed with the
fmall-pox, and furrowed by age this woman he
always diftinguiſhed by the name of Sweetheart.
It happened one day that Sweetheart greatly over-
roafted the only joint he had for dinner; upon which
he fent for her up, and, with great coolnefs and gravi-
ty, Sweetheart, fays he, take this down into the kitchen
and do it lefs. She replied, that was impoffible.
Pray then, faid he, if you had roafted it too little,
could you have done it more? Yes, fhe faid, fhe
could eaſily have done that: Why then, Sweetheart,
replied the dean, let me adviſe you, if you muſt com-
mit a fault, commit a fault that can be mended.
A
To the rest of his fervants, indeed, he appeared to
be churlish and auftere, but, in reality, was one of
the beſt mafters in the world: he allowed them
board-wages at the highest rate then known; and if
he employed them about any thing out of the ordi-
nary courſe of their fervice, he always paid them to
the full value of the work, as he would have
paid another with thefe emoluments, and the
fragments from his table, he expected they ſhould
find themſelves in victuals, and all other neceffaries,
except the liveries which he gave them; if in this fi-
tuation their expences were greater than their income,
it was judged a fufficient reafon to diſcharge them;
but, on the contrary, as foon as they had faved a full
year's wages, he conftantly paid them legal intereſt
for it, and took great pleafure in feeing it accumu-
late to a fum, which might fettle them in fome em-
ployment
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
65
ployment if he ſhould die, or if they found it ad-
vifeable to quit his fervice, which feldom happen-
ed; and he with whom his fervants live long, has
indubitable witneffes that he is a good mafter.
It is alfo certain, that, notwithſtanding the apparent
aufterity of his temper, he did not confider
his fervants as poor flaves, to whofe fervice Orrery,
he had a right, in confideration merely of
his money, and owed them no reciprocal obligation.
200.
He had a fervant whom he uſed to call Saunders,
that lived long with him, and at length fell fick and
died. In his ficknefs, which lafted many months,
Swift took care that all poffible relief and affiſtance
fhould be afforded him, and when he died, he buri-
ed him in the fouth ifle of his cathedral, and erected
a fmall piece of ſtatuary to his memory, with this
infcription:
Here lieth the body of
Alexander Magee, fervant to doctor Swift,
dean of St. Patrick's.
His grateful mafter caufed this monument to be e-
rected in memory of his difcretion, fidelity, and dili-
gence in that humble ftation.
Ob. Mar. 24, 1721, Etat. 29.
In the original copy, which the author of the Ob-
fervations faw in the dean's own hand, the expreffion
was ftill ftronger, and more to the dean's honour,
thus:
His grateful friend and mafter.
1
But a perfon of the dean's acquaintance, who is
much more diftinguifhed for vanity than wifdom,
prevailed upon him to leave out friend, even in op-
pofition to his own well known maxim, that a faith-
ful fervant fhould always be confidered not as a poor
flave, but an bumble friend. Of this perfon the name
EY
is
*
66*
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
is not told; but to conceal it is rather injuftice than
mercy, for he ought, on this occafion, to inherit a、
diſgrace, at leaft, proportionate to the honour which
he found means to with-hold from Swift.
As a member of. civil fociety; he was a zealous
advocate for liberty, the detecter of fraud, and the
fcourge of oppreffion. In his private capacity, he
was not only charitable but generous; and whatever
mifanthropy may be found in his writings, there does
not appear to have been any in his life.
*
His writings in defence of the poor infatuated
peo-
ple of Ireland are well known; and that he might.
not be wanting himſelf while he pleaded their cauſe
with others, he conftantly, lent out a large ſum of
money in ſmall portions to honeft, diligent, and ne-
ceffitous tradefmen, who paid it with a ſmall gratui,
ty by way of intereft to the perſon who kept the ac--
count of the diſburſements and weekly payments, for
he received back theſe loans by a certain
J.R. 203, fum out of the weekly profit of the bor-
rowers trade, in fuch proportions as that
4*
the whole ſhould be repaid in a year.
1
Befides this he frequently gave away 5 and 10 1.
when proper objects offered, without any parade.
He was indeed diligent to relieve the poor, and at the
fame time to encourage induſtry, even in the loweſt;
ſtation, and uſed regularly to vifit a great number of
poor, chiefly women, as well in the public ſtreets as
in the bye allies; and, under the arches of Dublin,
fome of thefe fold plums, fome hobnails, others tape,.
and others gingerbread; fome knitted, fome darned
ftockings, and others cobbled. fhoes; thefe women.
were most of them old, deformed, or crippled, and
fome were all three. He faluted them with great
kindneſs, asked how they throve, and what ſtock they
had; if the ware of any of them was fuch as he could
poffibly ufe, or pretend to uife, he bought fome, and
"
paid.
1
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
67
+
paid for every half-penny worth fix pence;
if not, he always added fomething to their
ftock, and ftrictly charged them to be indu
ftrious and honeft...
F.R, 132,
133.
}
It must be confeffed that theſe acts of bounty did
not appear to be the effects of compaffion, for of the
foft fympathy with diftrefs that fometimes fparkles in
the eye, and fometimes glows upon the cheek, he
ſhewed no ſign, and he may therefore be fuppofed to
have wanted it; however, it is certain, that he was
wholly free from ill-nature, for a man can have no
complacence in that evil which he is continually bufy
to remove.
His bounty had not indeed the indifcriminating
ardour of blind inftin&t, and, if it had, it would not
have been the inftrument of equal happineſs: to feed
idleness is to propagate mifery, and difcourage virtue;
but to inſure the reward of induſtry is to beſtow a be-
nefit at once upon the individual and the publick; it is
to preſerve from deſpair thoſe who ſtruggle with diffi-
culty and diſappointment, it is to fupply food and reſt
to that labour which alone can make food tafteful and
reft ſweet, and to invigorate the community by the
full uſe of thofe members which would otherwife be-
come not only uſeleſs but hurtful, as a limb in which
the vital fluid ceaſes to circulate will not only wither
but corrupt. In this view then the bounty of Swift
was, like every other Chriftian duty, a reaſonable fer-
vice; and that he felt no fecret pleaſure in the cala-
mities of others, may be fairly concluded not only
from his general practice, but from many particu-
lar facts in which he appears to have been watchful
and zealous to alleviate diftrefs by unfollicited and
unexpected liberality.
It happened that a young gentleman of his choir,
being abroad with his gun, fuffered irreparable hurt
by its going off accidentally. When the dean heard.
of it, he expreffed great concern, and, having paufed
a little
E 2
68
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
a little, Well, faid he, this will be a good time at once
to reward merit and alleviate diftrefs; I will make
him a vicar, which he did accordingly the fame hour,
There are fome infirmities to which the mind as
well as the body naturally becomes fubject in the de-
cline of life. The defire of accumulating wealth
almoſt always increaſes in proportion as it becomes
more abfurd, and thoſe are moſt tenacious of money,
to whom money can be of leaft ufe. It has been ge-
nerally faid that this weakneſs is the effect of long ac
quaintance with mankind, who are found to deferve
lefs confidence and lefs kindnefs, as they are more
known; and indeed, though this opinion fhould not
haftily be admitted, it muſt yet be confeffed, that
the firft article in which men leffen their expences, is
generally the money they have been uſed to give a-
way, and that they gradually lofe the inclination to do
good as they acquire the power. But Swift, if he was
not exempt from the infirmity, was yet clear of the
vice. If his œconomy degenerated into avarice, it
muſt be confeffed that his avarice did not contract his
bounty, and he fuffers no degradation in his moral cha-
racter, who, when the practice of any virtue is become
more difficult, is yet able to exert it in the fame degree.
Stift turned all the evil of exceffive frugality upon
himfelf. It induced him to walk when he had been ufed
to ride, and he would then fay he had earned a fhilling
or eighteen-pence, which he had a right to do what
he pleafed with, and which he conftantly applied to
his ufual charities, which by this expedient he could
continue, and yet expend lefs upon the whole than
before. But the diftribution even of this charity was
marked with the peculiarity of his character, for that
he might propertion his bounty to the neceffitics and
the merit of various objects, and yet give but one
piece of money at a time, he conſtantly
kept a pocket full of all forts of coin, from
·J. R. 13.
a filver three-pence to a crown-piece.
2
But
?
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
69
But as his defire of immediate gain was not grati-
fied at the expence of the poor, to whofe diftrefs he
was a witneſs, neither was it gratified at the expence
of thoſe whom it was impoffible he fhould know,
though he had many opportunities of doing it.
He once refolved never to renew a certain leafe be-
longing to the deanery without raifing the rent thirty
pounds a year. The tenant had often follicited him,
inſtead of raifing the rent, to take a larger fine; and,
this man, a very ſhort time before the dean loft his
memory, urged him with a very large fum, fuppofing
that as raiſing the rent could only inrich the dean's
fucceffor, and a large fine would come into his own
coffer, he ſhould certainly fucceed. The dean however
maintained his integrity, refuſed the offer with indig-
nation, and fulfilled his purpoſe of raifing the rent,
though at this time his memory was fo bad,
J.R. 208.
that the next day he did not remember
what he had done, and his love of money fo pre-
dominant over every thing but his virtue,
J.R. 145.
that, though he complained of being defert-
ed, yet he baniſhed his beſt friends, merely to fave the
expence of entertaining them, and would fometimes
refuſe them a fingle bottle of wine.
As an ecclefiaftic, he was. fcrupulously exact in the
exerciſe of his function, as well with regard to fpiri-
tual as temporal things. As to his cathedral he ex-
pended more money to fupport and adorn it than had
been applied to the fame ufe in any period ſince it was
firſt built. He was extremely exact and confc nti-
ous in promoting the members of his choir according
to their merit, and never advanced any perfon to a
vicarage who was not qualified in all refpects, and in
the higheſt degree, whatever their intereft, or how-
ever recommended; and he once refufed a vicarage to
a perfon for whom the lady Carteret was very impor-
tunate, though he declared to her lady fhi, that, if it
E 3
had
70
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
had been in his power to have made the gentleman a
dean or a biſhop, he would have obliged her willingly,
becauſe he faid deaneries and bishopricks were pre-
ferments in which merit had no concern, though the
merit of a vicar would be brought to the
J.R.192. teft every day. Nor would he fuffer one
fhilling of the cathedral money to be alienated from
its proper ufe, even for the purpoſe of charity; when
any perſon follicited fuch an alienation, he uſed to tell
them that this money was appropriated, but, fays he,
as you declare the perfon to be relieved is an object
of Christian charity, I will give out of my private
purfe any fum proportioned to my revenue, if you
will contribute a fum in the fame proportion to yours;
my deanery is worth ſeven hundred pounds, your in-
come is two; if you will give two fhillings, I will give
feven, or any larger fum after the fame rate.
As to the poor in the liberty of his own cathedral,
they were better regulated than any other in the king-
dom; they were all badged, and were never found
begging out of their diſtrict; for theſe he
J. R. 8. built and furniſhed a little alms-houſe, be-
ing affifted by fome voluntary contributions, and pre-
ſerved among them uncommon cleanlineſs and decen-
cy by conſtantly vifiting them in perfon.
It has already been remarked, that, though he did
not himſelf underſtand muſic, yet he always attended
at the performance of the anthem, that the choir
might do their duty; but he had another practice yet
more fingular and more ufeful. As foon as the preacher
mounted the pulpit, he pulled out a pencil and piece
of paper, and carefully noted whatever was wrong
both in the expreffions and the manner in which they
were delivered, whether they were too fcholaftic to be
generally underſtood, or fo coarfe and vulgar as to
lofe their dignity; and he never failed to make theſe
the fubject of an admonition to the preacher as foon
as he came into the chapter-houſe.
He
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
71
He improved even his living of Larncor, though
he continued there but a ſhort time, and left both the
houſe and glebe a convenient and agreeable retreat
to his fucceffor at a confiderable expence, for which
he knew no return would be made to his executors;
and he determined to affert his right of abſence againſt
the archbiſhop of Dublin, at the expence of feveral
hundred pounds, at a time when he did not believe
he ſhould ever more claim the privilege for
himſelf, becauſe he would not endanger the
liberty of his fucceffor by an injurious pre-
cedent.
See his
letter,
vol. XII.
There is no act of virtue, which men have ſo often.
fubftituted for the peculiar pofitive duties of Chrifti-
ans as liberality to the poor, nor any by which they
have ſo often hoped to attone for the breach of every
other moral obligation.
But the dean, though he abounded in charity, was
not lefs diligent in the practice of other virtues, or lefs
devout and conftant in the folemnities of religion.
He was remarkably temperate both in eating and
drinking; he was not only juft, but punctual in his
dealings, and he had an inviolable regard for truth.
As he conftantly attended divine worship when he was
at home, fo he ufed always to go early to church.
when he was in London, and never to fleep without
affembling his family in his own chamber to prayers:
It has often been remarked, that virtue in excefs
becomes vicious, and not only precludes the reward
of the poffeffor, but produces rather mifchief than
good to others. An abhorrence of hypocrify was a
ftriking particular in Swift's character, but it is diffi-
cult to determine whether it was more a virtue than
a vice, for it brought upon him the charge of irreli
gion, and encouraged others to be irreligious. In
proportion as he abhorred hypocrify, he dreaded the
imputation of it, and therefore concealed his piety
ها
E 4
with
!
72"
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
with as much diligence as others conceal thofe vices,
which cuſtom has not made reputable. His con-
ftant attendance at church, when he was at the deane-
ry, he knew would be confidered as the duty of his fta-
tion, but whatever had the appearance of voluntary.
devotion he always took care to hide; when he went
to church in London, it was early in the morning,
fo that, though he was conftantly at prayers, and at
the facrament, yet he appeared to neglect both, as he
was at home when others were at church; and, when he
went to prayers in his family, the fervants affembled
at the appointed hour as it were by ſtealth, without
any notice from a bell, or any other call except the
ftriking of the clock; fo that Dr. Delany was fix
months in his family before he ſuſpected him of this.
unfaſhionable practice. The fame principle upon
which he thus ftudiouſly avoided appearances of good,
made him frequently incur appearances of evil, efpe-
cially when an opportunity offered of indulging his
peculiar vein of humour, and gratifying his natural
difpofition. One inftance of this has already been given
in his folemn addreſs to his clerk from the pulpit by.
the name of Roger, but there are others which are lefs
excufable. Soon after he was made dean of St. Pa-
trick's, he had dined one Sunday with Dr. Raymond,
vicar of Trim, and when the bell had rung, and the
people were affembled to evening prayers at the
church which was not diftant more than two hundred
yards, Raymond, ſaid he, I will lay you a crown that
I begin prayers before you this afternoon; Dr. Ray-
mond accepted the wager, and immediately both run
as faft as they could towards the church. Raymond
who was much nimbler than Swift, arrived firſt at
the door, and when he entered the church, walked de-
cently towards the reading deſk; Swift never flack-
ened his pace, but, running up the ifle, left Dr. Ray-
mond behind hi n in the middle of it, and, ftepping in-
to
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
73
to the deſk without putting on a furplice or opening
the book, began the fervice in an audible voice, and
thus won his wager.
It has been common, among pretenders to wit, to
affect great contempt for every kind of regularity, to
live, or pretend to live, in a ſtate of continual diffipa-
tion, without regard to the return of thofe feafons
which have been generally allotted to particular pur-
poſes, without fleeping or waking, or eating or drink-
ing, like the reſt of mankind. To recover theſe un-
happy wretches from a condition fo deplorable as to
fuppreſs indignation, and yet ſo contemptible as ſcarce
to excite pity, it is here recorded that the life of Swift
was in the highest degree uniform and regular, his
hours of walking and reading, of exerciſe and amufe-
ment, never varied; and that he might keep the revo-
lution of his employments with greater exactnefs, his
watch was almoft conftantly either in his hand or on
the table before him.
As his abhorrence of hypocrify exempted him
from affectation, the natural equity of his mind ſe-
cured him againft envy; envy feems to be a defire of
equality gratified by degrading others; as emulation
is a defire of equality gratified by advancing ourſelves.
It does not appear that Swift, upon a fuppofition that
he had no fuperior, was without emulation, but by his
ready affiſtance to advance the reputation and circum-
ftances of others, he appears to have been free from
envy.
He cultivated genius wherever he found it, and
in whatever degree, with great zeal and affiduity, and
would chearfully fpend much time in correcting and
improving any literary compofition that had the leaft
appearance of ingenuity; nor was this kindnefs con-
fined to thofe whofe parts could never come in com-
petition with his own, he ftarted many hints to Mr.
Gay which he purfued with great ſucceſs, and he recom-
mended
74
AN ACCOUNT OF THE
mended Congreve, Addiſon, Parnel, and many others,
to thoſe whoſe favour was moſt likely to render them
confpicuous.
Among his fingularities were his refolution never
to wear ſpectacles, and his obftinate perfeverance in the
ufe of too much exercife. His want of fpectacles made
it difficult to read, and his immoderate exercife wafted
his fleſh and produced a poornefs in his blood, as he
was often told by his friends and phyficians, Dr. Hel-
fham and Dr. Grattan, and as afterwards appeared by
experiment, for, when he was reduced to a ſtate of
idiotifm and ceafed from walking, he recovered his
fleſh in a fhort time.
He was cleanly even to fuperftition, his nails were
always pared to the quick to prevent the leaſt gather-
ing of dirt under them, and he never dreffed without
a bafon of water by him, with which he carefully
cleanfed his feet. In his perfon he was robuſt and
maſculine, his deportment was commanding, and his
Orrery,
78.
walk erect. His voice was ſharp and high-
toned, eſpecially when he read prayers, but
not effeminate, and there was a natural fe-
verity in his afpect, which even his fmiles could fcarce
foften, nor his utmoſt gaiety relax.
His manner was without ceremony, but not ruftic,
for he had a perfect knowledge of all the modes and
variations of politenefs and complaifance which he
practifed in a manner peculiar to himself;
D. S.360, and the refpect, that was due to him by theſe
365.
rules, he took care to exact without the leaft
abatement.
It will readily be admitted that every man has fome
appetite, affection, or difpofition, which either in kind
or in degreeis irregular, and which it is the province of
reafon to order and reftrain. As it will always happen
that in fome inftances paffion will predominate and
reafon in others, it follows that there must be fome
>
diffimi-
LIFE OF Dr. SWIFT.
75
•
diffimilitude in every character, from which Swift's
could not therefore be exempt; but upon the whole
it will be found uncommonly ſteady and uniform,.
though fome, to fcreen their own fcattered and incon-
fiftent repreſentations of it from cenfure, have pre-
tended that it was capricious, various, and contradic-
tory.
Swift appears to have been naturally temperate and
chafte, it was therefore eafy for him to be frugal; but
he was alfo naturally high-fpirited, and therefore, as
wealth is the pledge of independence, it is not ſtrange
his frugality fhould verge towards excefs. However,
as he acted upon principles, not only of general vir-
tue, but of the nobleft moral fyftem of Christianity, he
did not deliver himſelf up to natural propenfities, when
they were contrary to his duty, and therefore his love
of money did not contract his charity to the poor,
or defraud his fucceffors to inrich himfelf. The fame
fpirit which fecured his integrity by difdaining the
meanness of a lye, produced that dread of hypo-
Grify which concealed his piety, and betrayed him into
appearances of evil; and the fame want of natural
tenderneſs which made him appear obdurate and au-
ftere, transferred the diſtribution of his liberality from
instinct to religion, and made that, which in others is
an exerciſe of ſelf-love, in him an act of obedience to
God.
Such was Dr. Jonathan Swift, whofe writings either
ftimulate mankind to fuftain their dignity as rational
and moral beings, by fhewing how low they ftand in
mere animal nature, or fright them from indecency
by holding up its picture before them in its native de-
formity and whofe life, with all the advantages of
genius and learning, was a fcale of infelicity gradu-
ally afcending till pain and anguiſh deſtroyed the fa-
·
culties.
76 AN ACCOUNT OF THE, &c.
culties by which they were felt; while he was viewed
at a diſtance with envy, he became a burden to him-
felf, he was forfaken by his friends, and his memory
has been loaded with unmerited reproach: his life
therefore does not afford lefs inftruction than his wri-
tings, fince to the wife it may teach humility, and to
the fimple content.
VERSES, &c. referred to from the LIFE
of Dr. SWIFT.
STELLA to Dr. SWIFT on his birth-day,
November 30, 1721.
The Dean declared that theſe verfes had under-
gone no correction. [D. S. p. 81.
STM
T. PATRICK's dean, your country's pride,
My early and my only guide,
Let me among the reft attend,
Your pupil and your humble friend,
To celebrate in female ftrains
The day that paid your mother's pains;
Defcend to take that tribute due
In gratitude alone to you.
When men began to call me fair,
You interpos'd your timely care;
You early taught me to defpife
The ogling of a coxcomb's eyes;
Shew'd where my judgment was mifplac'd;
Refin❜d my fancy and my tafte.
Behold that beauty juft decay'd,
Invoking art to nature's aid;
Forfook by her admiring train
She ſpreads her tatter'd nets in vain;
Short was her part upon the ftage;
Went ſmoothly on for half a page;
Her bloom was gone, fhe wanted art,
As the fcene chang'd, to change her part:
She, whom no lover could refiſt,
Before the fecond act was hifs'd.
Such is the fate of female race.
With no endowments but a face;
Before the thirti'th year of life
A maid forlorn, or hated wife.
STELLA to you, her tutor, owes
That fhe has ne'er refembled thoſe
Nor was a burthen to mankind
With half her courfe of years behind.
F
You
78
VERSES, GO.
You taught how I might youth prolong
By knowing what was right and wrong;
How from my heart to bring fupplies
Of luftre to my fading eyes;
How foon a beauteous mind repairs
The lofs of chang'd or falling hairs;
How wit and virtue from within
Send out a ſmoothnefs o'er the fkin:
Your lectures cou'd my fancy fix,
And I can pleaſe at thirty-fix.
The fight of CHLOE at fifteen
Coquetting, gives not me the fpleen,
The idol now of every fool
'Till time fhall make their paffions cool 3
Then tumbling down time's fteepy hill,
While STELLA holds her ftation ftill,
Oh! turn your precepts into laws,
Redeem the women's ruin'd caufe,
Retrieve loft empire to our fex,
That men may bow their rebel necks.
Long be the day that gave you birth
Sacred to friendſhip, wit, and mirth;
Late dying may you caft a fhred
Of your rich mantle o'er my head;
To bear with dignity my forrow,
One day alone, then die to-morrow,
An elegy upon Demar the mifer, was a ſubject
ftarted and partly executed in company confifting of
Swift and Stella and a few friends; every one threw
in a hint, and Stella's was the following.
But as he weighed his gold, grim death in ſpite
Caft in his dart, which made three moidores light:
And when he faw his darling money fail,
Blew his laſt breath, to fink the lighter fcale,
Address
VERSES, &ය79
c.
.
Addrefs of the Inhabitants of the Liberty of the Dean
and Chapter of St. Patrick's, Dublin.
WE
E the inhabitants of the liberty of the Dean
and Chapter of St. Patrick's, Dublin, and the
neighbourhood of the fame, having been inform'd,
by univerſal report, that a certain man of this city
hath openly threatned and fworn before many hundred
people, as well perfons of quality as others, that he
refolves upon the firſt opportunity, by the help of
feveral ruffians, to murder or maim the Reverend
the Dean of St. Patrick's our neighbour, benefactor,
and head of the liberty of St. Patrick's, upon a fri-
volous unproved ſuſpicion, of the faid Dean's having
written fome lines in verfe reflecting on the faid
man :
Therefore we the faid inhabitants of the faid li-
berty, and in the neighbourhood thereof, from our
great love and refpect to the faid Dean, to whom
the whole kingdom hath ſo many obligations, as well
as we of the liberty, do unanimouſly declare, that we
will endeavour to defend the life and limbs of the
ſaid Dean againſt the ſaid man, and all his ruffians
and murderers, as far as the law will allow; if he or
any of them preſume to come into the faid liberty
with any wicked malicious intent againſt the houſe,
or family, or perfon, or goods of the faid Dean.
To which we have chearfully, fincerely, and heartily,
fet our hands.
The Dean being in bed, very much indifpofed,
and not able to receive the ſaid perfons, dictated the
following anſwer.
Gentlemen,
I receive with great thankfulneſs theſe many kind
expreffions of your concern for my fafety, as well as
your declared refolution to defend me (as far as the
laws of God and man will allow) againſt all mur-
derers
80
VERSES, &c.
1
derers and ruffians, who fhall attempt to enter into
the liberty with any bloody or wicked defigns, upon
my life, my limbs, my houfe, or my goods. Gen-
tlemen, my life is in the hands of God, and whether
it may be cut off by treachery or open violence, or
by the common way of other men; as long as it
continues I fhall ever bear a grateful memory for this
favour you have ſhewn, beyond my expectation, and
almoſt exceeding my wifhes. The inhabitants of the
liberty as well as thofe of the neighbourhood, have
lived with me in great amity for near twenty years;
which I ani confident will never diminiſh during my
life. I am chiefly forry that by two cruel diforders
of deafnefs and giddinefs, which have purfued me
for four months, I am not in a condition either to
hear, or to receive you, much leſs to return my
moſt ſincere acknowledgments, which in juſtice and
gratitude I ought to do. May God bless you and
your families in this world, and make you for ever
happy in the next.
TALE OF A TU B.
A
f
Written for the
UNIVERSAL IMPROVEMENT
OF
MANKIND.
Diu multumque defideratum.
To which is added,
An Account of a Battle between the
Antient and Modern Books in St.
James's Library.
Baſyma cacabafa eanaa, irraumifta diarbada caëota
bafobor camelanthi.
Iren. Lib. 1. C. 18.
Juvatque novos decerpere flores,
Infignemque meo capiti petere inde coronam,
Unde prius nulli velarunt tempora Muſa. Lucret.
With the Author's Apology;
And Explanatory Notes, by W. Wotton, B. D.
and others.
LONDON:
Printed for CHARLES BATHURST, at the
Cross-Keys in Fleet-Street.
M DCC LIV.
THE AUTHOR's
APOLOGY.
IF good and ill nature equally operated
upon mankind, I might have faved
myſelf the trouble of this apology; for it
is manifeft by the reception the following
diſcourſe hath met with, that thofe, who
approve it, are a great majority among
the men of tafte: yet there have been two
or three treatiſes written exprefly againſt
it, befides many others that have flirted
at it occafionally, without one fyllable
having been ever publiſhed in its defence,
or even quotation to its advantage, that
I can remember, except by the polite
author of a late diſcourſe between a Deift
and a Socinian.
Therefore, fince the book feems calcu-
lated to live at leaſt as long as our lan-
guage, and our taſte admit no great alte-
rations, I am content to convey fome apo-
logy along with it.
The greateft part of that book was
finiſhed about thirteen years fince, 1696,
which is eight years before it was publiſh-
ed.
A 2
iv
AN APOLOGY.
ed. The author was then young, his in-
vention at the height, and his reading freſh
in his head. By the affiftance of fome
thinking, and much converſation, he had
endeavoured to ſtrip himſelf of as many
real prejudices as he could; I fay real ones,
becauſe, under the notion of prejudices,
he knew to what dangerous heights fome
men have proceeded. Thus prepared, he
thought the numerous and grofs corrupti-
ons in religion and learning might furniſh
matter for a fatyr, that would be uſeful
and diverting. He refolved to proceed in
a manner, that ſhould be altogether new,
the world having been already too long
naufeated with endleſs repetitions upon
every fubject. The abuſes in religion he
propoſed to ſet forth in the allegory of the
coats, and the three brothers, which was
to make up the body of the diſcourſe:
thoſe in learning he choſe to introduce by
way of digreffions. He was then a young
gentleman much in the world, and wrote
to the taſte of thoſe who were like him-
felf; therefore, in order to allure them,
he gave a liberty to his pen, which might
not fuit with maturer years, or graver
characters,
AN APOLOGY.
characters, and which he could have eafily
corrected with a very few blots, had he
been mafter of his papers for a year or two
before their publication.
Not that he would have governed his
judgment by the ill-placed cavils of the
four, the envious, the ftupid, and the
taftelefs, which he mentions with diſdain.
He acknowledges there are feveral youth-
ful fallies, which from the grave and the
wife may deſerve a rebuke. But he defires
to be anſwerable no farther than he is guilty,
and that his faults may not be multiplied
by the ignorant, the unnatural, and uncha-
ritable applications of thoſe, who have
neither candor to fuppofe good meanings,
nor palate to diſtinguiſh true ones. After
which, he will forfeit his life, if any one opi-
nion can be fairly deduced from that book,
which is contrary to religion or morality.
Why fhould any clergyman of our
church be angry to fee the follies of fana-
ticiſm and fuperftition expofed, though in
the moſt ridiculous manner; fince that is
perhaps the moſt probable way to cure
them, or at leaſt to hinder them from far-
ther ſpreading? Beſides, though it was not
intended
A 3
iv
AN APOLOGY.
intended for their perufal, it rallies nothing
but what they preach againft. It contains
nothing to provoke them by the leaft fcur-
rility upon their perfons or their functions.
It celebrates the church of England as the
moſt perfect of all others in difcipline and
doctrine; it advances no opinion they re-
ject, nor condemns any they receive. If
the clergy's refentments lay upon their
hands, in my humble opinion, they might
have found more proper objects to employ
them on: nondum tibi defuit hoftis; I mean
thofe heavy, illiterate fcriblers, proſtitute
in their reputations, vicious in their lives,
and ruined in their fortunes, who, to the
fhame of good fenfe as well as piety, are
greedily read, merely upon the ſtrength of
bold, falfe, impious affertions, mixed with
unmannerly reflections upon the prieſt-
hood, and openly intended againſt all reli-
gion; in fhort, full of fuch principles as are
kindly received, becauſe they are levelled
to remove thoſe terrors, that religion tells
men will be the confequence of immoral
lives. Nothing like which is to be met with
in this diſcourſe, though ſome of them are
pleaſed ſo freely to cenfure it. And I wiſh,
there
AN APOLOGY.
vil
there were no other inftance of what I have
too frequently obſerved, that many of that
reverend body are not always very nice
in diſtinguiſhing between their enemies
and their friends.
+
Had the author's intentions met with a
more candid interpretation from fome,
whom out of reſpect he forbears to name,
he might have been encouraged to an
examination of books written by fome of
thoſe authors above deſcribed, whofe errors,
ignorance, dulnefs, and villany he thinks
he could have detected and expoſed in ſuch
a manner, that the perfons, who are moſt
conceived to be infected by them, would
foon lay them afide and be aſhamed: but
he has now given over thoſe thoughts;
fince the weightiest men ‡ in the weightieft
ſtations are pleaſed to think it a more dan-
gerous point to laugh at thoſe corruptions
in religion, which they themfelves muſt
difapprove, than to endeavour pulling up
thoſe very foundations, wherein all chrif-
tians have agreed.
He thinks it no fair proceeding, that any
Alluding to Dr. Sharp the archbishop of York's repre-
ſentation of the author.
A 4
perfon
:
viii
AN APOLOGY.
perfon fhould offer determinately to fix a
name upon the author of this difcourfe,
who hath all along concealed himſelf from
moſt of his neareſt friends: yet ſeveral
have gone a farther ftep, and pronounced
another book* to have been the work of
the fame hand with this: which the author
directly affirms to be a thorough miſtake;
he having yet never fo much as read that
diſcourſe: a plain inſtance how little truth
there often is in general furmifes, or in
conjectures drawn from a fimilitude of
ſtyle, or way of thinking.
Had the author written a book to ex-
poſe the abuſes in law, or in phyfic, he
believes the learned profeffors in either
faculty would have been fo far from reſent-
ing it, as to have given him thanks for his
pains, eſpecially if he had made an ho-
nourable reſervation for the true practice
of either ſcience: but religion, they tell
us, ought not to be ridiculed; and, they
tell us truth: yet furely the corruptions.
in it may; for we are taught by the triteft.
maxim in the world, that, religion being
* Letter of enthufiafm,
ſuppoſed to have been written
by
by Col. Hunter: ſee Swift's
letter to him, in the last of
theſe volumes.
the
蕾
​AN APOLOGY.
ix
the beſt of things, its corruptions are likely
to be the worſt.
There is one thing which the judicious
reader cannot but have obferved, that
fome of thoſe paffages in this diſcourſe,
which appear moſt liable to objection, are
what they call parodies, where the author
perfonates the ſtyle and manner of other
writers, whom he has a mind to expoſe.
I fhall produce one inftance; it is in the
61ft page. Dryden, L' Eftrange, and fome
others I fhall not name, are here levelled
at, who having ſpent their lives in faction,
and apoftacies, and all manner of vice,
pretended to be fufferers for loyalty and
religion. So Dryden tells us in one of his
prefaces of his merits and fufferings, thanks
God that he poffeffes his foul in patience; in
other places he talks at the fame rate;
L'Eftrange often uſes the like ſtyle; and
I believe, the reader may find more perfons
to give that paffage an application: but
this is enough to direct thoſe, who may
have overlooked the author's intention.
and
There are three or four other paffages,
which prejudiced or ignorant readers have
drawn by great force to hint at ill mean-
ings;
X
AN APOLOGY.
ings; as if they glanced at ſome tenets in
religion. In anſwer to all which, the au-
thor folemnly protefts, he is intirely in-
nocent; and never had it once in his
thoughts, that any thing he faid would
in the leaſt be capable of fuch interpreta-
tions, which he will engage to deduce
full as fairly from the moſt innocent book
in the world. And it will be obvious to
every reader, that this was not any part
of his ſcheme or defign, the abuſes he
notes being fuch as all Church-of-England
men agree in; nor was it proper for his
fubject to meddle with other points, than
fuch as have been perpetually controverted
fince the reformation.
To inftance only in that paffage about
the three wooden machines mentioned in
the introduction: in the original manu-
ſcript there was a deſcription of a fourth,
which thofe, who had the papers in their
power, blotted out, as having ſomething
in it of fatyr, that I fuppofe they thought
was too particular; and therefore they
were forced to change it to the number
three, from whence fome have endeavour-
ed to ſqueefe out a dangerous meaning,
that
AN APOLOGY.
xi
that was never thought on. And indeed
the conceit was half ſpoiled by changing the
numbers; that of four being much more
cabaliſtic, and therefore better expoſing
the pretended virtue of numbers, a fuper-
ftition there intended to be ridiculed.
Another thing to be obſerved is, that
there generally runs an irony through the
thread of the whole book, which the men
of taſte will obſerve and diſtinguiſh, and
which will render fome objections, that
have been made, very weak and infigni-
ficant.
This apology being chiefly intended for
the fatisfaction of future readers, it may
be thought unneceffary to take any notice
of fuch treatiſes as have been written a-
gainſt the enfuing diſcourſe, which are
already funk into wafte paper and oblivion,
after the ufual fate of common anſwerers
to books, which are allowed to have any
merit: they are indeed like annuals, that
grow about a young tree, and feem to
vie with it for a fummer, but fall and die
with the leaves in autumn, and are never
heard of any more. When Dr. Eachard
writ his book about the contempt of the
clergy,
xii
AN APOLOGY.
clergy, numbers of thoſe anfwerers im-
mediately ſtarted up, whofe memory if he
had not kept alive by his replies, it would
now be utterly unknown, that he were
ever anſwered at all. There is indeed an
exception, when any great genius thinks
it worth his while to expofe a fooliſh piece;
fo we ftill read Marvel's anſwer to Parker
+ with pleaſure, though the book it an-
fwers be funk long ago; fo the Earl of
Orrery's remarks will be read with de-
light, when the differtation he expoſes will
neither be fought nor found ‡: but theſe
are no enterprizes for common hands, nor
to be hoped for above once or twice in an
age. Men would be more cautious of lof-
ing their time in fuch an undertaking, if
they did but confider, that to anſwer a
book effectually, requires more pains and
ſkill, more wit, learning, and judgment,
than were employed in the writing it. And
the author affures thoſe gentlemen, who
+ Parker, afterwards bifhop
of Oxford, wrote many trea-
tifes againſt the diffenters,
with infolence and contempt,
fays Burnet, that enraged
them beyond meafure; for
which he was chaftifed by
Andrew Marvel, under fecre-
tary to Milton, in a little book
called the Rehearſal tranf-
profed.
Boyle's remarks upon
Bentley's differtation on the
epiftles of Phalaris, fee page
.243.
have
}
AN APOLOGY.
xiii
have given themſelves that trouble with
him, that his diſcourſe is the product of
the ſtudy, the obſervation, and the inven-
tion of ſeveral years; that he often blotted
out much more than he left, and, if his
papers had not been a long time out of
his poffeffion, they muſt have ſtill under-
gone more fevere corrections: and, do they
think fuch a building is to be battered
with dirt-pellets, however envenomed the
mouths may be that diſcharge them? He
hath ſeen the productions but of two an-
fwerers, one of which at firſt appeared as
from an unknown hand, but fince avowed
by a perſon, * who upon fome occafions
hath diſcovered no ill vein of humour. It
is a pity any occaſion ſhould put him un-
der a neceffity of being fo hafty in his pro-
ductions, which otherwiſe might often be
entertaining. But there were other reaſons
obvious enough for his miſcarriage in this;
he writ againſt the conviction of his talent,
and entered upon one of the wrongeſt at-
* Suppofed to be Doctor
William King, the civilian,
author of an account of Den-
mark, a differtation on fam-
plars and other pieces of bur-
lefque on the Royal Society,
and the art of cookery in imi-
tation of Horace's art of poe-
try, &c.
tempts
xiv
AN APOLOGY.
Thy
tempts in nature, to turn into ridicule by
a week's labour a work, which had coft
fo much time, and met with fo much fuc-
ceſs in ridiculing others: the manner how
he handled his fubject I have now forgot,
having juſt looked it over, when it firft
came out, as others did, merely for the
fake of the
title.
The other anſwer is from a perfon of a
graver character, and is made up of half
invective, and half annotation; † in the
latter of which he hath generally fucceeded
well enough. And the project at that
time was not amifs to draw in readers to
his pamphlet, feveral having appeared
defirous, that there might be fome ex-
plication of the more difficult paffages.
Neither can he be altogether blamed for
offering at the invective part, becauſe it is
agreed on all hands, that the author had
This we cannot recover
at prefent, it being fo abfolute-
ly forgotten, the oldeſt book-
fellers in trade remember no-
thing of it.
+ Wotton's defence of his
reflections upon ancient and
modern learning: from the an-
notation are ſelected the notes
figned W. Wotton; thus Wotton
appears bufied to illuftrate a
work, which he laboured to
condemn, and adds force to a
fatire pointed against himſelf:
as captives were bound to the
chariot-wheel of the victor,and
compelled to increaſe the pomp
of his triumph, whom they
had in vain attempted to de-
feat.
given
瞿
​AN APOLOGY.
XV
}
given him fufficient provocation. The
great objection is againſt his manner of
treating it, very unfuitable to one of his
function. It was determined by a fair majo-
rity, that this anſwerer had, in a way not
to be pardoned, drawn his pen againſt a
certain great man then alive, and univer-
fally reverenced for every good quality that
could poffibly enter into the compoſition
of the moſt accompliſhed perfon; it was
obferved, how he was pleaſed, and affect-
ed to have that noble writer called his ad-
verſary; and it was a point of fatyr well
directed; for I have been told, Sir William
Temple was fufficiently mortified at the
term. All the men of wit and politeneſs
were immediately up in arms through in-
dignation, which prevailed over their con-
tempt by the confequences they apprehend-
ed from fuch an example; and it grew
Porfenna's cafe; idem trecenti juravimus.
In fhort, things were ripe for a general in-
furrection, till my lord Orrery had a little
laid the ſpirit, and fettled the ferment.
But, his lordship being principally engag-
ed with another antagoniſt *, it was
thought
* Bentley, concerning Phalaris and fop.
xvi
AN APOLOGY.
thought neceffary, in order to quiet the
minds of men, that this oppoſer ſhould
receive a reprimand, which partly occa-
fioned that difcourfe of the Battle of the
Books, and the author was farther at the
pains to infert one or two remarks on him
in the body of the book.
This anſwerer has been pleaſed to find
fault with about a dozen paffages, which
the author will not be at the trouble of
defending, farther than by affuring the
reader, that, for the greater part the reflec-
ter is intirely miſtaken, and forces inter-
pretations which never once entered into
the writer's head, nor will (he is fure) into
that of any reader of taſte and candor; he
allows two or three at moſt, there pro-
duced, to have been delivered unwarily;
for which he defires to plead the excuſe
offered already, of his youth, and frank-
neſs of ſpeech, and his papers being out
of his power at the time they were pub-
liſhed.
But this anſwerer infifts, and ſays, what
he chiefly diflikes, is the defign; what
that was, I have already told, and I be-
lieve there is not a perfon in England who
can
AN APOLOGY.
xvii
can underſtand that book, that ever ima-
gined it to have been any thing elſe, but
to expoſe the abuſes and corruptions in
learning and religion.
But it would be good to know what
defign this reflecter was ferving, when he
concludes his pamphlet with a caution to
the reader, to beware of thinking the
author's wit was intirely his own: furely
this muſt have had fome allay of perfonal
animofity at leaſt mixt with the defign öf
ſerving the public by fo uſeful a diſcovery;
and it indeed touches the author in a ten-
der point; who infifts upon it, that
through the whole book he has not bor-
rowed one fingle hint from any writer in
the world; and he thought, of all criti-
cifms, that would never have been one.
He conceived, it was never difputed to
be an original, whatever faults it might
have. However, this anfwerer produces
three inftances to prove this author's wit is
not his own in many places. The firſt is,
that the names of Peter, Martin, and
Jack are borrowed from a letter of the
Ïate Duke of Buckingham. Whatever wit
VOL. I.
Villers.
a
is
xviii
AN APOLOGY.
is contained in thoſe three names, the
author is content to give it up, and de-
fires his readers will fubtract as much as
they placed upon that account; at the fame
time proteſting folemnly, that he never
once heard of that letter, except in this
paffage of the anſwerer: ſo that the names
were not borrowed, as he affirms, though
they ſhould happen to be the fame; which
however is odd enough, and what he
hardly believes; that of Jack being not,
quite fo obvious as the other two. The
fecond inftance to fhew the author's wit
is not his own, is Peter's Banter (as he.
calls it in his Alfatia phrafe) upon
tranfubftantiation, which is taken from
the fame duke's conference with an iriſh
prieft, where a cork is turned into a horfe,
This the author confeffes to have feen
about ten years after his book was written,
and a year or two after it was publiſhed,
Nay, the anſwerer overthrows this him-
felf; for he allows the tale was written in
1697; and, I think, that pamphlet was
not printed in many years after. It was
neceffary, that corruption fhould have
fome allegory as well as the reft; and
4.
the
AN APOLOGY.
xix
the author invented the propereft he could,
without enquiring what other people had
written; and the commoneft reader will
find, there is not the leaſt reſemblance be-
tween the two ftories. The third inſtance
is in theſe words; I have been aſſured, that
the battle in St. James's library is, mutatis
mutandis, taken out of a french book, enti-
tuled, Combat des livres, if I mifremember
not. In which paffage there are two claufes
obfervable: I have been affured; and, if
I mifremember not. I defire firft to know
whether, if that conjecture proves an ut-
ter falfhood, thofe two claufes will be a
fufficient excufe for this worthy critic.
The matter is a trifle; but, would he
venture to pronounce at this rate upon one
of greater moment? I know nothing more
contemptible in a writer, than the charac-
ter of a plagiary; which he here fixes at
a venture; and this not for a paffage, but
a whole diſcourſe, taken out from another
book, only mutatis mutandis. The author
is as much in the dark about this, as the
anfwerer; and will imitate him by an
affirmation at random; that if there be a
word of truth in this reflection, he is a
paultry,
a 2
XX
AN APOLOGY.
paultry, imitating pedant, and the an-
fwerer is a perſon of wit, manners, and
truth. He takes his boldness, from never
having feen any fuch treatiſe in his life,
nor heard of it before; and he is fure it
is impoffible for two writers of different
times and countries to agree in their
thoughts after ſuch a manner, that two
continued diſcourſes ſhall be the fame, only
mutatis mutandis. Neither will he infift
upon the miſtake in the title; but let the
anfwerer and his friend produce any book
they pleaſe, he defies them to fhew one
fingle particular, where the judicious rea-
der will affirm he has been obliged for
the ſmalleſt hint; giving only allowance
for the accidental encountering of a ſingle
thought, which he knows may fometimes
happen; though he has never yet found
it in that difcourfe, nor has heard it ob-
jected by any body elſe.
So that if ever any defign was unfor-
tunately executed, it muſt be that of this
anſwerer; who, when he would have it
obferved, that the author's wit is none of
his own, is able to produce but three in-
ftances, two of them mere trifles, and all
three
AN APOLOGY.
xxi
three manifeftly falfe. If this be the way
theſe gentlemen deal with the world in
thoſe criticiſms, where we have not leifure
to defeat them, their readers had need be
cautious, how they rely upon their credit;
and whether this proceeding can be recon-
ciled to humanity or truth, let thoſe, who
think it worth their while, determine.
It is agreed, this anfwerer would have
fucceeded much better, if he had ſtuck
wholly to his buſineſs, as a commentator
upon the Tale of a tub, wherein it cannot
be denied that he hath been of fome fervice
to the public, and hath given very fair
conjectures towards clearing up fome dif-
ficult paffages; but, it is the frequent
error of thoſe men (otherwiſe very commen-
dable for their labours) to make excurfions
beyond their talent and their office, by
pretending to point out the beauties and
the faults; which is no part of their trade,
which they always fail in, which the world
never expected from them, nor give them
any thanks for endeavouring at. The part
of Minellius, or Farnaby would have
い
​‡ Low commentators, who wrote notes upon claffick au-
thors for the ufe of fchoolboys.
а3
fallen
xxii
AN APOLOGY.
1
fallen in with his genius, and might have
been ferviceable to many readers, who can-
not enter into the abftrufer parts of that
difcourfe; but Optat ephippia bos piger:
the dull, unwieldy, ill-ſhaped ox would
needs put on the furniture of a horſe, not
confidering he was born to labour, to plow
the ground for the fake of fuperior beings,
and that he has neither the fhape, mettle,
nor ſpeed of that noble animal he would
affect to perfonate.
It is another pattern of this anfwerer's
fair dealing, to give us hints that the au-
thor is dead, and yet to lay the fufpicion
upon ſome-body, I know not who, in the
country; to which can only be returned,
that he is abfolutely miſtaken in all his
conjectures; and furely conjectures are,
at beft, too light a pretence to allow a
man to affign a name in public. He con-
demns a book, and confequently the au-
thor, of whom he is utterly ignorant, yet
at the fame time fixes, in print, what he
thinks a diſadvantageous character upon
thoſe who never deferved it. A man, who
receives a buffet in the dark, may be al-
lowed to be vexed; but it is an odd kind
of
AN APOLOGY.
xxiii
of revenge to go to cuffs in broad day
with the firſt he meets, and lay the laſt
night's injury at his door. And thus much
for this difcreet, candid, pious, and ingeni-
ous answerer.
How the author came to be without his
papers, is a ftory not proper to be told,
and of very little uſe, being a private fact,
of which the reader would believe as lit-
tle, or as much, as he thought good. He
had however a blotted copy by him, which
he intended to have written over with
many alterations, and this the publiſhers
were well aware of, having put it into the
bookfeller's preface, that they apprehend-
ed a furreptitious copy, which was to be al-
tered, &c. This, though not regarded
by readers, was a real truth, only the
furreptitious copy was rather that, which
was printed; and they made all the hafte
they could, which indeed was needlefs,
the author not being at all prepared: but
he has been told, the bookfeller was in
much pain, having given a good fum of
money for the copy.
In the author's original copy there
were not ſo many chafms as appear in the
a 4
book;
xxiv
AN APOLOGY.
book; and why fome of them were left,
he knows not: had the publication been
trufted to him, he would have made fe-
veral corrections of paffages, againſt which
nothing hath been ever objected. He
would likewife have altered a few of thoſe,
that ſeem with any reafon to be excepted
againft; but, to deal freely, the greateſt
number he ſhould have left untouched, as
never ſuſpecting it poffible any wrong
in-
terpretations could be made of them.
The author obferves, at the end of the
book there is a difcourfe, called, a frag-
ment; which he more wondered to fee in
print, than all the reft; having been a
moft imperfect fketch, with the addition
of a few looſe hints, which he once lent a
gentleman, who had deſigned a diſcourſe
on fomewhat the fame fubject; he never
thought of it afterwards; and it was a
fufficient furprize to fee it pieced up to-
gether, wholly out of the method and
fcheme he had intended, for it was the
ground-work of a much larger diſcourſe;
and he was forry to obferve the materials
fo foolishly employed.
There is one farther objection made by
tho.e
AN APOLOGY.
XXV
1
thoſe who have anfwered this book, as
well as by fome others, that Peter is fre-
quently made to repeat oaths and curfes.
Every reader obferves, it was neceffary to
know that Peter did fwear and curfe.
The oaths are not printed out, but only
ſuppoſed; and the idea of an oath is not
immoral, like the idea of a prophane or
immodeſt ſpeech. A man may laugh at
the popiſh folly of curfing people to hell,
and imagine them fwearing, without any
crime; but lewd words, or dangerous
opinions, though printed by halves, fill
the reader's mind with ill ideas; and of
theſe the author cannot be accufed. For
the judicious reader will find, that the
fevereft ftrokes of fatyr, in his book, are
levelled againſt the modern cuftom of
employing wit upon thoſe topics, of which
there is a remarkable inftance in the 156,
157th pages, as well as in feveral others,
though perhaps once or twice expreffed in
too free a manner, excufable only for the
reaſons already alledged. Some overtures
have been made by a third hand to the
bookfeller for the author's altering thoſe
paffages, which he thought might require
it:
*xvi
AN APOLOGY.
it: but it ſeems the bookfeller will not
hear of any fuch thing, being apprehen-
five it might ſpoil the fale of the book.
The author cannot conclude this apology
without making this one reflection; that,
as wit is the nobleſt and moſt uſeful gift of
human nature, fo humour is the moft
agreeable; and where theſe two enter far
into the compofition of any work, they
will render it always acceptable to the
world. Now, the great part of thoſe who
have no fhare or taſte of either, but by
their pride, pedantry, and ill manners
lay themſelves bare to the laſhes of both,
think the blow is weak, becauſe they are
infenfible; and where wit hath any mix-
ture of raillery, it is but calling it banter,
and the work is done. This polite word
of theirs was firft borrowed from the bul-
lies in White-Friers, then fell among the
footmen, and at laſt retired to the pedants,
by whom it is applied as properly to the
productions of wit, as if I fhould apply
it to Sir Ifaac Newton's mathematics: but,
if this bantering, as they call it, be fo
defpifeable a thing, whence comes it to
paſs they have fuch a perpetual itch to-
wards
AN APOLOGY.
ххуй
-
wards it themſelves? to inftance only in
the anſwerer already mentioned: it is
grievous to ſee him in fome of his writings
at every turn going out of his way to be
waggiſh, to tell us of a cow that pricked
up her tail; and, in his anſwer to this dif
courſe he fays, it is all a farce and a ladle 5
with other paffages equally fhining. One
may ſay of theſe impedimenta literarum,
that wit owes them a fhame; and they
cannot take wiſer counfel, than to keep
out of harm's way, or at leaſt not to come
till they are fure they are called.
To conclude; with thoſe allowances a-
bove required this book fhould be read:
after which, the author conceives, few
things will remain, which may not be
excuſed in a young writer. He wrote only
to the men of wit and tafte; and he thinks
he is not miſtaken in his accounts, when
he fays they have been all of his fide,
enough to give him the vanity of telling
his name, wherein the world, with all
its wife conjectures, is yet very much in
the dark; which circumftance is no dif-
agreeable amuſement either to the public
or himſelf.
The
xxviii
AN APOLOGY.
The author is informed, that the book-
feller has prevailed on feveral gentlemen
to write fome explanatory notes; for the
goodneſs of which he is not to anſwer, hav-
ing never ſeen any of them, nor intending
it till they appear in print; when it is not
unlikely he may have the pleaſure to find
twenty meanings, which never entered in-
to his imagination.
7
June 3, 1709.
POSTSCRIPT.
SINCE t
was
INCE the writing of this, which
about a year ago, a proſtitute book-
feller hath publiſhed a fooliſh paper, under
the name of Notes on the Tale of a tub, with
Some account of the author; and with an
infolence, which I fuppofe is puniſhable
by law, hath prefumed to affign certain
names. It will be enough for the author
to affure the world, that the writer of that
paper is utterly wrong in all his conjec-
tures upon that affair. The author far-
ther afferts, that the whole work is in-
tirely of one hand, which every reader of
judgment will eafily difcover: the gentle-
man,
AN APOLOGY,
xxix
man, who gave the copy to the book-
feller, being a friend of the author, and
ufing no other liberties, befides that of
expunging certain paffages, where now
the chaſms appear under the name of defi-
derata. But, if any perfon will prove his
claim to three lines in the whole book,
let him ſtep forth and tell his name and
titles; upon which, the bookfeller fhall
have orders to prefix them to the next
edition, and the claimant fhall from hence-
forward be acknowledged the undiſputed
author.
Treatifes
Treatifes written by the fame author, moſt
of them mentioned in the following dif
courfes; which will be ſpeedily published.
A
Character of the preſent ſet of wits
in this iſland.
A panegyrical effay upon the number
THREE.
A differtation upon the principal pro
ductions of Grub-ſtreet.
Lectures upon a diffection of human
nature.
A panegyric upon the world.
An analytical diſcourſe upon zeal, bif-
tori-theo-phyfi-logically confidered.
A general hiſtory of ears.
A modeft defence of the proceedings
of the rabble in all ages.
A deſcription of the kingdom of ab-
furdities.
A voyage into England, by a perfon
of quality in terra auftralis incognita,
tranflated from the original.
A critical effay upon the art of cant-
ing, philofophically, phyfically, and mu-
fically confidered.
TO
то
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
JOHN
LORD SOMMER S.
MY LORD,
ALTHOUGH
LTHOUGH the author has writ-
ten a large dedication, yet that
being addreſs'd to a prince, whom I am
never likely to have the honour of being
known to; a perfon befides, as far as
I can obferve, not at all regarded, or
thought on by any of our preſent writ-
ers; and being wholly free from that
flavery, which bookfellers ufually lie un-
der, to the caprices of authors; I think
it a wife piece of prefumption to infcribe
theſe papers to your lordſhip, and to im-
plore your lordship's protection of them.
God and your lordſhip know their faults,
and their merits; for, as to my own
particular, I am altogether a ftranger to
the matter; and though every body elſe
VOL. I.
fhould
B
2
DEDICATION.
fhould be equally ignorant, I do not fear
the fale of the book, at all the worſe,
upon that ſcore. Your lordſhip's name
on the front in capital letters will at any
time get off one edition: neither would
I defire any other help to grow an alder-
man, than a patent for the fole privilege
of dedicating to your lordſhip.
I ſhould now, in right of a dedica-
tor, give your lordſhip a lift of your own
virtues, and at the fame time be very
unwilling to offend your modefty; but
chiefly, I ſhould celebrate your liberality
towards men of great parts and ſmall
fortunes, and give you broad hints, that
I mean myſelf. And I was juft going on,
in the ufual method, to perufe a hundred
or two of dedications, and tranſcribe an
abſtract to be applied to your lordſhip;
but I was diverted by a certain accident:
for, upon the covers of theſe papers,
cafually obſerved written in large letters
the two following words, DETUR
DIGNISSIMO; which, for aught I
knew, might contain fome important
meaning. But it unluckily fell out, that
none of the authors I employ underſtood
I
Latin;
DEDICATION.
3
Latin; (though I have them often in pay
to tranflate out of that language) I was
therefore compelled to have recourſe to
the curate of our parish, who engliſhed
it thus, Let it be given to the worthieſt :
and his comment was, that the author
meant his works fhould be dedicated to
the fublimeft genius of the age for wit,
learning, judgment, eloquence, and wif-
dom. I called at a poet's chamber (who
works for my ſhop) in an alley hard by,
fhewed him the tranflation, and defired
his opinion, who it was that the author
could mean he told me, after fome
confideration, that vanity was a thing he
abhorr'd; but, by the deſcription he
thought himſelf to be the perfon aimed
at; and, at the fame time, he
very kind-
ly offer'd his own affiftance gratis towards
penning a dedication to himſelf. I defired
him however to give a fecond gueſs; why
then, ſaid he, it muſt be I, or my lord
Sommers. From thence I went to ſeveral
other wits of my acquaintance, with no
fmall hazard and wearinefs to my perſon
from a prodigious number of dark, wind-
ing ftairs; but found them all in the fame
ftory,
B 2
4
DEDICATION,
{
ftory, both of your lordſhip and them-
felves. Now your lordship is to under-
ftand, that this proceeding was not of
my own invention; for I have fome-
where heard, it is a maxim, that thoſe,
to whom every body allows the fecond
place, have an undoubted title to the
firft.
This infallibly convinced me, that your
lordſhip was the perſon intended by the
author. But, being very unacquainted in
the ſtyle and form of dedications, I em-
ploy'd thoſe wits aforefaid to furniſh me
with hints and materials towards a pane-
gyric upon your lordſhip's virtues.
In two days they brought me ten
fheets of paper fill'd
up on every fide.
They fwore to me, that they had ranſack'd
whatever could be found in the characters
of Socrates, Ariftides, Epaminondas, Cato,
Tully, Atticus, and other hard names,
which I cannot now recollect. However,
I have reaſon to believe, they impofed
upon my ignorance; becauſe, when I
came to read over their collections, there
was not a fyllable there, but what I and
every body elſe knew as well as them-
felves:
DEDICATION.
5
felves: therefore I grievouſly ſuſpect a
cheat; and that theſe authors of mine
ſtole and tranſcribed every word from the
univerfal report of mankind. So that I
look upon myſelf, as fifty fhillings out of
pocket to no manner of purpoſe.
If, by altering the title, I could make
the fame materials ferve for another dedi-
cation (as my betters have done) it would
help to make up my lofs; but, I have
made feveral perfons dip here and there
in thoſe papers, and, before they read
three lines, they have all affured me plain-
ly, that they cannot poffibly be applied
to any perſon befides your lordſhip.
your
I expected, indeed, to have heard of
your lordſhip's bravery at the head of
an army; of undaunted courage in
mounting a breach, or fcaling a wall;
or, to have had your pedigree trac'd in a
lineal deſcent from the houfe of Austria;
or, of
your wonderful talent at dreſs and
dancing; or, your profound knowledge
in algebra, metaphyfics, and the oriental
tongues. But to ply the world with an
old beaten ftory of your wit, and elo-
quence, and learning, and wifdom, and
juftice,
B 3
6
DEDICATION.
juſtice, and politeneſs, and candor, and
evenneſs of temper in all ſcenes of life;
of that great diſcernment in difcovering,
and readineſs in favouring deferving men ;
with forty other common topics: I con-
fefs, I have neither confcience, nor coun-
tenance to do it. Becauſe, there is no
virtue, either of a public or private life,
which fome circumſtances of your own
have not often produced upon the ſtage
of the world; and thoſe few, which, for
want of occafions to exert them, might
otherwiſe have paffed unſeen or unobferved
by your friends, your enemies have at
length brought to light.
*
It is true, I fhould be very loth, the
bright example of your lordſhip's virtues
fhould be loft to after-ages, both for their
fake and your own; but chiefly, becauſe
they will be fo very neceffary to adorn
the hiſtory of a late reign; and that is
another reaſon, why I would forbear to
* In 1701 lord Sommers
was impeached by the com-
mons, who either finding
their proofs defective, or for
other reafons, delay'd coming
to a trial, and the lords
thereupon proceeded to the
trial without them, and ac-
quitted him.
+ K. William's; whofe
memory he defended in the
H. of Lords againſt ſome in-
vidious reflexions of the E. of
Nottingham.
make
DEDICATION.
make a recital of them here; becauſe I
have been told by wife men, that, as de-
dications have run for fome years paſt,
a good hiſtorian will not be apt to have
recourſe thither in ſearch of characters.
There is one point, wherein I think
we dedicators would do well to change
our meaſures; I mean, inſtead of running
on fo far upon the praiſe of our patrons
liberality, to ſpend a word or two in ad-
miring their patience. I can put no greater
compliment on your lordship's, than by
giving you ſo ample an occafion to exer-
cife it at preſent. Though perhaps I
fhall not be apt to reckon much merit
to your lordſhip upon that ſcore, who
having been formerly uſed to tedious ha-
rangues *, and fometimes to as little
purpoſe, will be the readier to pardon
this; eſpecially, when it is offered by one,
who is with all reſpect and veneration,
MY LORD,
Your lordship's most obedient,
and moſt faithful ſervant,
* Sir John Sommers was
attorney general; then made
Ford keeper of the feals in
The Bookfeller.
1692, and lord high chan-
cellor and baron of Evesham
in April 1697.
8
THE BOOKSELLER
IT
TO THE READER.
:
T is now * fix years fince theſe papers
came firſt to my hand, which feems
to have been about a twelve-month after
they were written: for, the author tells
us in his preface to the firſt treatiſe, that
he hath calculated it for the year 1697,
and in ſeveral paffages of that diſcourſe,
as well as the ſecond, it appears, they
were written about that time.
As to the author, I can give no manner
of fatisfaction; however, I am credibly
informed that this publication is without
his knowledge; for he concludes the copy
is loft, having lent it to a perfon, fince
dead, and being never in poffeffion of it
after: fo that, whether the work received
his laft hand, or, whether he intended to
fill up the defective places, is like to re-
main a fecret.
If I fhould go about to tell the reader,
by what accident I became mafter of theſe
papers, it would in this unbelieving age
paſs for little more than the cant, or jar-
The Tale of a Tub was firft publifhed in 1704.
gon
TO THE READER.
9
gon of the trade. I therefore gladly ſpare
both him and myſelf ſo unneceffary a trou-
ble. There yet remains a difficult quef-
tion, why I publiſhed them no fooner. I
forbore upon two accounts: firſt, becauſe
I thought I had better work upon my
hands; and ſecondly, becauſe I was not
without fome hope of hearing from the
author, and receiving his directions. But,
I have been lately alarmed with intelli-
gence of a furreptitious copy †, which a
certain great wit had new poliſhed and
refined, or as our preſent writers expreſs
themſelves, fitted to the humour of the age;
as they have already done, with great feli-
city, to Don Quixote, Boccalini, la Bruyere,
and other authors. However, I thought
it fairer dealing to offer the whole work in
its naturals. If any gentleman will pleaſe
to furniſh me with a key, in order to ex-
plain the more difficult parts, I fhall very
gratefully acknowledge the favour, and
print it by itſelf.
↑ See the Apology.
THE
THE
EPISTLE DEDICATOR Y
TO
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
PRINCE POSTERITY.
I
SIR,
:
HERE prefent your highness with
the fruits of a very few leiſure hours,
ftolen from the fhort intervals of a world
of buſineſs, and of an employment quite
alien from fuch amuſements as this: the
poor production of that refuſe of time,
which has lain heavy upon my hands,
during a long prorogation of parliament,
a great dearth of foreign news, and a
The citation out of Ireneus
in the title-page, which feems
to be all Gibberish, is a form
of initiation uſed antiently by
the Marcofian heretics. W.
Wotton.
It is the uſual ſtyle of decri-
ed writers to appeal toPofterity,
who is here repreſented as a
prince in his nonage, and Time
as his governor; and the author
begins in a way very frequent
with him, by perfonating other
writers, who fometimes offer
fuch reafons and excufes for
publiſhing their works, as they
ought chiefly to conceal and be
afhamed of.
tedious
I 2
DEDICATION TO
:
tedious fit of rainy weather: for which,
and other reaſons, it cannot chufe ex-
treamly to deferve fuch a patronage as
that of your highness, whofe numberleſs
virtues, in fo few years, make the world
look upon you as the future example to
all princes for although your highness is
hardly got clear of infancy, yet has the
univerfal learned world already refolved
upon appealing to your future dictates
with the loweſt and moſt refigned fub-
miffion; fate having decreed you fole
arbiter of the productions of human wit
in this polite and moſt accompliſhed age.
Methinks, the number of appellants were
enough to fhock and ſtartle any judge of
a genius lefs unlimited than yours: but,
in order to prevent fuch glorious trials,
the perfon, it ſeems, to whofe care the
education of your highness is committed,
has refolved (as I am told) to keep you in
almoſt an univerfal ignorance of our ſtu-
dies, which it is your inherent birthright
to inſpect.
It is amazing to me, that this perfon
fhould have affurance in the face of the
fun to go about perfuading your highness,
that
PRINCE POSTERITY.
13
that our age is almoſt wholly illiterate,
and has hardly produced one writer upon
any ſubject. I know very well, that when
your highness fhall come to riper years,
and have gone through the learning of
antiquity, you will be too curious to
neglect enquiring into the authors of the
very age before you: and to think that
this infolent, in the account he is prepar-
ing for your view, defigns to reduce them
to a number fo infignificant as I am a-
fhamed to mention; it moves my zeal
and my fpleen for the honour and intereſt
of our vaſt flouriſhing body, as well as
of myſelf, for whom I know by long ex-
perience, he has profeffed, and ſtill con-
tinues, a peculiar malice.
It is not unlikely, that, when your
highneſs will one day perufe what I am
now writing, you may be ready to ex-
poftulate with your governor upon the
credit of what I here affirm, and com-
mand him to ſhew you fome of our pro-
ductions. To which he will anſwer, (for
I am well informed of his defigns) by
aſking your highness, where they are?
and what is become of them? and pre-
tend
14
DEDICATION TO
tend it a demonftration that there never
were any, becauſe they are not then to
be found: not to be found! who has
miſlaid them? are they funk in the abyſs
of things? it is certain, that in their own
nature they were light enough to fwim
upon the furface for all eternity. There-
fore the fault is in him, who tied weights
ſo heavy to their heels, as to depreſs them
to the center. Is their very effence de-
ftroyed? who has annihilated them? were
they drowned by purges, or martyred by
pipes? who adminiftred them to the
poſteriors of ? But that it may no
longer be a doubt with your highness, who
is to be the author of this univerſal ruin;
I beseech you to obferve that large and
terrible ſcythe, which your governor af-
fects to bear continually about him. Be
pleaſed to remark the length and ſtrength,
the ſharpneſs and hardneſs of his nails
and teeth: confider his baneful, abomi-
nable breath, enemy to life and matter,
infectious and corrupting: and then re-
flect, whether it be poffible for any mortal
ink and paper of this generation to make
a fuitable refiftance. Oh! that your high-
nefs
PRINCE POSTERITY.
15
nefs would one day refolve to difarm this
ufurping* maitre du palais, of his fu-
rious engines, and bring your empire
† hors de page.
It were endleſs to recount the feveral
methods of tyranny and deftruction,
which your governor is pleaſed to practiſe
upon this occafion. His inveterate malice
is fuch to the writings of our age, that of
feveral thouſands produced yearly from
this renowned city, before the next revo-
lution of the fun there is not one to be
heard of: unhappy infants, many of them
barbarouſly deſtroyed, before they have
fo much as learnt their mother tongue to
beg for pity. Some he ftifles in their
cradles, others he frights into convulfions,
whereof they fuddenly die: fome he flays
alive, others he tears limb from limb.
Great numbers are offered to Moloch, and
the reft, tainted by his breath, die of a
languiſhing confumption.
* Comptroller. The king-
dom of France had a race of
kings, which they call les
roys faineans (from their do-
ing nothing) who lived lazily
in their apartments, while the
kingdom was adminiſtered by
the mayor de palais, till Charles
Martel the laft mayor put his
mafter to death, and took the
kingdom into his own hand.
† Out of guardianſhip.
But
16
DEDICATION TO
But the concern I have moſt at heart,
is for our corporation of poets, from whom
I am preparing a petition to your highneſs,
to be fubfcribed with the names of one
hundred thirty-fix of the firſt rate, but
whoſe immortal productions are never
likely to reach your eyes, though each
of them is now an humble and an earneſt
appellant for the laurel, and has large
comely volumes ready to fhew for a fup-
port to his pretenfions. The never-dying
works of theſe illuftrious perfons your
governor, fir, has devoted to unavoidable
death; and your highneſs is to be made
believe, that our age has never arrived at
the honour to produce one fingle poet.
We confeſs immortality to be a great
and powerful goddeſs; but in vain we
offer up to her our devotions and our
facrifices, if your highness's governor, who
has ufurped the priesthood, muft by an
unparallel❜d ambition and avarice wholly
intercept and devour them.
To affirm that our age is altogether
unlearned, and devoid of writers in any
kind, feems to be an affertion fo bold and
fo falfe, that I have been fometime think-
ing,
PRINCE POSTERITY.
17
ing, the contrary may almoſt be proved by
uncontroulable demonftration. It is true
indeed, that altho' their numbers be vaſt,
and their productions numerous in propor-
tion, yet are they hurried fo haftily off the
fcene, that they eſcape our memory, and
elude our fight. When I firſt thought of
this addreſs, I had prepared a copious liſt
of titles to preſent your highneſs, as an un-
diſputed argument for what I affirm. The
originals were pofted freſh upon all gates
and corners of ſtreets; but, returning in
a very few hours to take a review, they
were all torn down, and freſh ones in
their places: I enquired after them among
readers and bookſellers, but I enquired in
vain, the memorial of them was loft among
men, their place was no more to be found :
and I was laughed to ſcorn for a clown and
a pedant, without all taſte and refinement,
little verſed in the courſe of preſent affairs,
and that knew nothing of what had paffed
in the beſt companies of court and town.
So that I can only avow in general to your
highness, that we do abound in learning
and wit; but to fix upon particulars, is a
taſk tco flippery for my flender abilities.
C
If
18
DEDICATION TO
If I ſhould venture in a windy day to af-
firm to your highness, that there is a large
cloud near the horizon in the form of a
bear, another in the zenith with the head
of an aſs, a third to the weſtward with
claws like a dragon; and your highneſs
fhould in a few minutes think fit to exa-
mine the truth, it is certain, they would
all be changed in figure and poſition, new
ones would arife, and all we could agree
upon would be, that clouds there were,
but that I was grofly miſtaken in the 200-
graphy and topography of them.
But your governor perhaps may ftill in-
fift, and put the queſtion: What is then
become of thofe immenfe bales of paper,
which muſt needs have been employed in
fuch numbers of books? can theſe alfo
be wholly annihilate, and ſo of a fudden,
as I pretend? What ſhall I ſay in return
of fo invidious an objection? it ill befits
the diſtance between your highness and
me, to fend you for ocular conviction to
a jakes, or an oven; to the windows of a
bawdy-houſe, or to a fordid lanthern. Books,
like men their authors, have no more
than one way of coming into the world,
but
PRINCE POSTERITY.
19
but there are ten thouſand to go out of it,
and return no more.
ty
I profefs to your highnefs in the integri-
of my heart,
heart, that what I am going to
fay is literally true this minute I am writ-
ing: what revolutions may happen before
it ſhall be ready for your perufal, I can by
no means warrant: however, I beg you to
accept it as a ſpecimen of our learning, our
politenefs, and our wit. I do therefore affirm
upon the word of a fincere man, that there is
now actually in being a certain poet, called
John Dryden, whoſe tranſlation of Virgil
was lately printed in a large folio, well
bound, and if diligent fearch were made,
for aught I know, is yet to be feen. There
is another, called Nahum Tate, who is
ready to make oath, that he has cauſed
many reams of verſe to be publiſhed,
whereof both himfelf and his bookfeller
(if lawfully required) can ftill produce
authentic copies, and therefore wonders
why the world is pleaſed to make fuch a
fecret of it. There is a third, known by
the name of Tom Durfey, a poet of a vaſt
comprehenfion, an univerfal genius, and
moſt profound learning. There are alſo
C 2
one
20
DEDICATION TO
one Mr. Rymer, and one Mr. Dennis, moft
profound critics. There is a perſon ſtyled
Dr. Bentley, who has written near a thou-
fand pages of immenſe erudition, giving
a full and true account of a certain Squab-
ble of wonderful importance between him-
felf and a bookfeller *: he is a writer of in-
finite wit and humour; no man raillies
with a better grace, and in more ſprightly
turns. Farther I avow to your highness,
that with theſe eyes I have beheld the per-
fon of William Wotton, B. D. who has
written a good fizeable volume againſt a
friend of your governor † (from whom alas
he muft therefore look for little favour)
in a moſt gentlemanly ſtile, adorned with
the utmoſt politeneſs and civility; replete
with diſcoveries equally valuable for their
novelty and uſe; and embellished with
traits of wit fo poignant and fo appofite,
that he is a worthy yokemate to his fore-
mention'd friend.
Why fhould I go upon farther parti-
culars, which might fill a volume with
* Bentley in his controverfy
with lord Orrery upon the ge-
nuineness of Phalaris's epiftles
has given, in a preface, a long
account of his dialogues with
a bookfeller about the loan and
reftitution of a MS.
+ Sir William Temple.
the
PRINCE POSTERITY. 21
the juſt elogies of my contemporary bre-
thren? I fhall bequeath this piece of juf-
tice to a larger work; wherein I intend
to write a character of the preſent ſet of
wits in our nation: their perſons I fhall
deſcribe particularly and at length, their
genius and underſtandings in mignature.
In the mean time, I do here make bold
to preſent your highneſs with a faithful ab-
ftract drawn from the univerſal body of
all arts and ſciences, intended wholly for
your fervice and inftruction: nor do I
doubt in the leaſt, but your highneſs will
peruſe it as carefully, and make as con-
fiderable improvements, as other young
princes have already done by the many
volumes of late years written for a help
to their ſtudies *.
That your highneſs may advance in wif-
dom and virtue, as well as years, and at
laft out-fhine all your royal anceſtors,
ſhall be the daily prayer of,
S 1 R,
Decemb.
1697.
Your Highness's
Moft devoted, &c.
*There were innumerable books printed for the uſe of
the Dauphine of France.
C 3
THE
THE
PREFACE.
P. E
T
HE wits of the preſent age being fo
very numerous and penetrating, it
ſeems, the grandees of church and state be-
gin to fall under horrible apprehenſions,
left theſe gentlemen, during the intervals
of a long peace, fhould find leiſure to pick
holes in the weak fides of religion and go-
vernment. To prevent which, there has
been much thought employed of late up-
on certain projects for taking off the force,
and edge of thoſe formidable enquirers,
from canvafing and reaſoning upon fuch
delicate points. They have at length fixed
upon one, which will require fome time
as well as coft to perfect. Mean while,
the danger hourly encreafing by new le-
vies of wits all appointed (as there is rea-
fon to fear) with pen, ink, and paper,
which may at an hour's warning be drawn
out into pamphlets, and other offenfive
weapons, ready for immediate execution;
it was judged of abfolute neceffity, that
fome prefent expedient be thought on, 'till
C 4
the
24
THE PREFACE.
the main defign can be brought to ma-
turity. To this end, at a grand com-
mittee fome days ago this important dif-
covery was made by a certain curious and
refined obferver: that feamen have a cuf-
tom, when they meet a whale, to fling
him out an empty tub by way of amuſe-
ment, to divert him from laying violent
hands upon the fhip. This parable was
immediately mythologiſed: the whale was
interpreted to be Hobbes's Leviathan,which
toffes and plays with all ſchemes of reli-
gion and government, whereof a great
many are hollow, and dry, and empty,
and noify, and wooden, and given to ro-
tation: this is the leviathan, from whence
the terrible wits of our age are faid to bor-
row their weapons.
weapons. The hip in danger
is eaſily underſtood to be its old antitype
the commonwealth. But how to analyſe
the tub, was a matter of difficulty: when,
after long enquiry and debate, the literal
meaning was preſerved; and it was de-
creed, that in order to prevent theſe levia-
thans from toffing and fporting with the
commonwealth, which of itſelf is too apt to
fluctuate, they ſhould be diverted from that
game
THE PREFACE.
25
game by a Tale of a Tub. And, my genius
being conceived to lie not unhappily that
way, I had the honour done me to be en-
gaged in the performance.
This is the fole defign in publiſhing the
following treatiſe, which I hope will ferve
for an interim of fome months to employ
thoſe unquiet ſpirits, 'till the perfecting of
that great work; into the ſecret of which,
it is reaſonable the courteous reader ſhould
have fome little light.
It is intended, that a large academy be
erected, capable of containing nine thou-
fand feven hundred forty and three perfons:
which by modeft computation is reckoned
to be pretty near the current number of
wits in this ifland. Theſe are to be difpof-
ed into the ſeveral ſchools of this acade-
my, and there purſue thoſe ſtudies to which
their genius moft inclines them. The un-
dertaker himſelf will publifh his propoſals
with all convenient ſpeed, to which I
fhall refer the curious reader for a more
particular account, mentioning at preſent
only a few of the principal fchools: there
is, firft, a large pæderaftic ſchool, with
French and Italian mafters. There is, alfo,
the
26
THE PREFACE.
the ſpelling ſchool, a very fpacious building:
the ſchool of looking-glaſſes: the ſchool of
fwearing: the fchool of critics: the ſchool
of falivation: the ſchool of bobby-horſes:
the ſchool of poetry: * the ſchool of tops:
the ſchool of spleen: the ſchool of gaming :
with many others, too tedious to recount.
No perfon to be admitted member into any
of theſe ſchools without an atteftation un-
der two fufficient perfons hands, certify-
ing him to be a wit.
But, to return: I am fufficiently in-
ſtructed in the principal duty of a pre-
face, if my genius were capable of arriv-
ing at it. Thrice have I forced my ima-
gination to make the tour of my invention,
and thrice it has returned empty; the lat-
ter having been wholly drained by the fol-
lowing treatiſe. Not fo my more fucceſs-
ful brethren the moderns, who will by no
means let flip a preface or dedication, with-
out fome notable diſtinguiſhing ſtroke to
ſurpriſe the reader at the entry, and kin-
dle a wonderful expectation of what is to
* This I think the author
ſhould have omitted, it being
of the very fame nature with
the ſchool of hobb; -horses, if one
may venture to cenfure one,
who is fo fevere a cenfurer of
others, perhaps with too little
diftinction.
enfue.
THE PREFACE.
27
Some
enfue. Such was that of a moſt ingenious
poet, who, folliciting his brain for fome-
thing new, compared himſelf to the hang-
man, and his patron to the patient: this
was infigne, recens, indictum ore alio.
When I went through that neceffary and
noble + courſe of ſtudy, I had the hap-
pineſs to obſerve many fuch egregious
touches, which I fhall not injure the
authors by tranfplanting; becauſe I have
remarked, that nothing is fo very tender
as a modern piece of wit, and which is apt
to fuffer ſo much in the carriage.
things are extreamly witty to-day, or faſt-
ing, or in this place, or at eight a clock, or
over a bottle, or ſpoke by Mr.Whatd'y'call'm,
or in a fummer's morning: any of the
which, by the ſmalleſt tranſpoſal or mifap-
plication, is utterly annihilate. Thus,
wit has its walks and purlieus, out of
which it may not ftray the breadth of an
hair, upon peril of being loft. The mo¬
derns have artfully fixed this mercury, and
reduced it to the circumftances of time,
place, and perfon. Such a jeft there is,
*Hor. Something extraor-
dinary, new, and never hit
upon before.
Reading prefaces, &c.
that
28
THE PREFACE.
that will not paſs out of Covent-Garden;
and fuch a one, that is no where intelli-
gible but at Hyde-Park corner. Now,
though it ſometimes tenderly affects me to
confider, that all the towardly paffages I
fhall deliver in the following treatiſe, will
grow quite out of date and reliſh with the
firft fhifting of the preſent ſcene, yet I
muſt needs ſubſcribe to the juſtice of this
proceeding; becaufe, I cannot imagine
why we ſhould be at expence to furniſh
wit for fucceeding ages, when the former
have made no fort of provifion for ours:
wherein I fpeak the ſentiment of the very
neweft, and confequently the moſt ortho-
dox refiners, as well as my own. How-
ever, being extreamly follicitous, that every
accompliſhed perfon, who has got into the
tafte of wit calculated for this preſent
month of August, 1697, fhould deſcend
to the very bottom of all the fublime
throughout this treatiſe; I hold fit to lay
down this general maxim: whatever rea-
der defires to have a thorough compre-
henfion of an author's thoughts, cannot
take a better method, than by putting
himſelf into the circumftances and poſtures
of
THE PREFACE.
29
of life, that the writer was in upon every
important paffage, as it flowed from his
pen: for this will introduce a parity and
ſtrict correſpondence of ideas between the
reader and the author. Now, to aſſiſt
the diligent reader in fo delicate an affair,
as far as brevity will permit, I have recol-
lected, that the fhrewdeft pieces of this
treatiſe were conceived in bed, in a garret:
at other times, for a reaſon beſt known
to myſelf, I thought fit to ſharpen my in-
vention with hunger; and in general, the
whole work was begun, continued, and
ended, under a long courfe of phyfic, and
a great want of money. Now, I do
affirm, it will be abfolutely impoffible for
the candid peruſer to go along with me
in a great many bright paffages, unleſs,
upon the feveral difficulties emergent, he
will pleaſe to capacitate and prepare him-
ſelf by theſe directions. And this I lay
down as my principal poftulatum.
Becauſe I have profeffed to be a moſt
devoted fervant of all modern forms, I ap-
prehend fome curious wit may object
againſt me, for proceeding thus far in a
preface without declaiming, according to
the
}
30
THE PREFACE.
the cuſtom, againſt the multitude of writ-
ers, whereof the whole multitude of writ-
ers moſt reaſonably complain. I am juſt
come from perufing fome hundreds of
prefaces, wherein the authors do at the
very beginning addreſs the gentle reader
concerning this enormous grievance. Of
theſe I have preferved a few examples,
and ſhall ſet them down as near as my
memory has been able to retain them.
One begins thus;
For a man to fet up for a writer, when
the prefs fwarms with, &c.
Another;
The tax upon paper does not leſſen the
number of fcriblers, who daily pefter, &c.
Another ;
When every little would-be-wit takes pen
in hand, 'tis in vain to enter the lifts, &c.
Another;
To obſerve what trash the prefs fwarms
with, &c.
Another;
THE PREFACE.
31
Another;
Sir, It is meerly in obedience to your com-
mands, that I venture into the public; for
who upon a less confideration would be of a
party with fuch a rabble of fcriblers, &c.
Now, I have two words in my own
defence againſt this objection. Firſt, I
am far from granting the number of writ-
ers a nuiſance to our nation, having ſtre-
nuouſly maintained the contrary in ſeveral
parts of the following diſcourſe. Secondly,
I do not well underſtand the juſtice of this
proceeding; becauſe I obſerve many of
theſe polite prefaces to be not only from
the fame hand, but from thofe, who are
moſt voluminous in their feveral produc-
tions. Upon which, I fhall tell the reader
a fhort tale:
A mountebank, in Leicester-Fields, had
drawn a huge aſſembly about him. Among
the reſt, a fat unwieldy fellow, half ftifled
in the prefs, would be every fit crying
out, Lord! what a filthy croud is here?
pray, good people, give way a little. Blefs
me! what a devil has raked this rabble to-
gether: z- -ds, what ſqueezing is this!
honeft
I
32
THE PREFACE.
honeſt friend, remove your elbow. At
laft a weaver, that ftood next him, could
hold no longer: A plague confound you
(faid be) for an overgrown floven; and
who, in the devil's name, I wonder, helps
to make up the croud half fo much as
yourſelf? Don't you confider, with a pox,
that you take up more room with that
carcass than any five here? is not the
place as free for us as for you? bring your
own guts to a reaſonable compaſs, and be
d—n'd, and then I'll engage we ſhall have
room enough for us all.
There are certain common privileges
of a writer, the benefit whereof, I hope,
there will be no reaſon to doubt; parti-
cularly, that, where I am not underſtood,
it ſhall be concluded, that fomething very
uſeful and profound is couched under-
neath and again, that whatever word or
fentence is printed in a different character,
fhall be judged to contain fomething ex-
traordinary either of wit or fublime.
As for the liberty I have thought fit to
take of praiſing myſelf, upon fome occa-
fions or none; I am fure it will need no
excufe, if a multitude of great examples
be
THE PREFACE.
33
be allowed fufficient authority: for it is
here to be noted, that praife was origi-
nally a penfion paid by the world; but
the moderns, finding the trouble and
charge too great in collecting it, have
lately bought out the fee-fimple; fince
which time, the right of preſentation is
wholly in ourſelves. For this reafon it is,
that, when an author makes his own elogy,
he uſes a certain form to declare and infift
upon his title, which is commonly in
theſe or the like words, I fpeak without
vanity; which I think plainly fhews it to
be a matter of right and juftice. Now, I
do here once for all declare, that in every
encounter of this nature through the fol-
lowing treatiſe the form aforefaid is implied;
which I mention, to fave the trouble of re-
peating it on ſo many occafions.
It is a great eaſe to my conſcience, that
I have written fo elaborate and uſeful
a diſcourſe without one grain of fatyr
intermixed; which is the fole point,
wherein I have taken leave to diffent
from the famous originals of our age and
country. I have obſerved ſome fatyriſts
to uſe the public much at the rate, that
VOL. I.
pedants
D
!
34
THE PREFACE.
pedants do a naughty boy ready horſed
for diſcipline: firft, expoftulate the caſe,
then plead the neceffity of the rod from
great provocations, and conclude every
period with a laſh. Now, if I know any
thing of mankind, theſe gentlemen might
very well ſpare their reproof and correc-
tion: for there is not, through all nature,
another fo callous and infenfible a member
as the world's pofteriors, whether you ap-
ply to it the toe or the birch. Befides,
moſt of our late fatyriſts ſeem to lie under
a fort of miſtake; that, becauſe nettles
have the prerogative to fting, therefore
all other weeds muft do fo too. I make
not this compariſon out of the leaſt de-
fign to detract from theſe worthy writers:
for it is well known among mythologifts,
that weeds have the preheminence over
all other vegetables; and therefore the
firft monarch of this iſland, whoſe taſte
and judgment were fo acute and refined,
did very wifely root out the roſes from the
collar of the order, and plant the thistles
in their ftead, as the nobler flower of the
For which reaſon it is conjectured
by profounder antiquaries, that the faty-
two.
rical
THE PREFACE.
35
rical itch, fo prevalent in this part of our
ifland, was firft brought among us from
beyond the Tweed. Here may it long
flouriſh and abound: may it furvive and
neglect the ſcorn of the world, with as
much eaſe and contempt, as the world
is infenfible to the lafhes of it. May
their own dulnefs, or that of their party,
be no diſcouragement for the authors to
proceed; but let them remember, it is
with wits as with razors, which are never
fo apt to cut thoſe they are employ'd on,
as when they have loft their edge. Befides,
thofe, whoſe teeth are too rotten to bite,
are beft, of all others, qualified to re-
venge that defect with their breath.
I am not like other men, to envy or
undervalue the talents I cannot reach; for
which reaſon I muft needs bear a true
honour to this large eminent fect of our
Britiſh writers. And I hope, this little
panegyric will not be offenfive to their ears,
fince it has the advantage of being only
defigned for themſelves. Indeed, nature
herſelf has taken order, that fame and
honour ſhould be purchaſed at a better
penny-worth by fatyr, than by any other
productions
D 2
!
36
THE PREFACE.
productions of the brain, the world being
fooneft provoked to praise by lashes, as
men are to love. There is a problem in
an ancient author, why dedications, and
other bundles of flattery, run all upon
ftale muſty topics without the fmalleft
tincture of any thing new, not only to
the torment and naufeating of the chrif-
tian reader, but, if not fuddenly prevent-
ed, to the univerſal ſpreading of that pef-
tilent diſeaſe, the lethargy, in this ifland:
whereas there is very little fatyr, which
has not fomething in it untouched before.
The defects of the former are ufually im-
puted to the want of invention among
thoſe, who are dealers in that kind; but, I
think, with a great deal of injuſtice, the
ſolution being eaſy and natural: for, the
materials of panegyric, being very few in
number, have been long fince exhauſted.
For, as health is but one thing, and has
been always the fame, whereas diſeaſes
are by thouſands, befides new and daily
additions; fo, all the virtues that have
been ever in mankind, are to be counted
upon a few fingers; but his follies and
vices are innumerable, and time adds
hourly
THE PREFACE.
37
hourly to the heap. Now the utmoſt a
poor poet can do, is to get by heart a
lift of the cardinal virtues, and deal them
with his utmoſt liberality to his hero or
his patron: he may ring the changes as
far as it will go, and vary his phraſe 'till
he has talked round: but the reader quick-
ly finds it is all * pork, with a little varie-
ty of fauce.
For there is no inventing
terms of art beyond our ideas; and, when
our ideas are exhaufted, terms of art muft
be fo too.
But, though the matter for panegyric
were as fruitful as the topics of fatyr, yet
would it not be hard to find out a fuf-
ficient reaſon, why the latter will be al-
ways better received than the firſt. For,
this being beſtowed only upon one, or a
few perſons at a time, is fure to raiſe
envy, and confequently ill words from
the reft, who have no fhare in the blef-
fing: but fatyr, being levelled at all, is
never reſented for an offence by any, fince
every individual perfon makes bold to
underſtand it of others, and very wifely
removes his particular part of the burthen
*Plutarch.
D 3
upon
38
THE PREFACE,
upon the fhoulders of the world, which
are broad enough, and able to bear it.
To this purpoſe, I have ſometimes re-
flected upon the difference between Athens
and England with refpect to the point
before us. In the + Attic commonwealth
it was the privilege and birth-right of
every citizen and poet to rail aloud, and
in public, or to expoſe upon the ſtage,
by name, any perſon they pleaſed, though
of the greateſt figure, whether a Creon,
an Hyperbolus, an Alcibiades, or a Demof
thenes: but, on the other fide, the leaft
reflecting word let fall againſt the people
in general, was immediately caught up,
and revenged upon the authors, however
confiderable for their quality or their
merits. Whereas in England it is juſt the
reverſe of all this. Here, you may fecure-
ly diſplay your utmoſt rhetoric againſt
mankind, in the face of the world; tell
them, "That all are gone aftray; that
"there is none that doth good, no not one;
"that we live in the very dregs of time;
"that knavery and atheism are epidemic
as the pox; that honefty is fled with Af
+ Vid. Xen.
træa;
22
THE PREFACE.
39
"træa;" with any other common places,
equally new and eloquent, which are fur-
niſhed by the * Splendida bilis. And when
you have done, the whole audience, far
from being offended, fhall return you
thanks, as a deliverer of precious and uſe-
ful truths. Nay farther; it is but to
venture your lungs, and you may preach
in Covent-Garden againft foppery and
fornication, and fomething elfe: againſt
pride, and diffimulation, and bribery, at
White-Hall: you may expofe rapine and
injuſtice in the inns of court chapel: and
in a city pulpit, be as fierce as you pleaſe
againſt avarice, hypocrify, and extortion.
'Tis but a ball bandied to and fro, and
every man carries a racket about him to
ftrike it from himfelf among the reſt of
the company. But, on the other fide,
whoever fhould miftake the nature of
things fo far, as to drop but a fingle hint
in public, how fuch a one starved half the
fleet, and half poiſoned the reft: how
fuch a one, from a true principle of love
and honour, pays no debts but for wenches
and play: how fuch a one has got a clap,
* Hor. Spleen.
D 4
and
40
THE PREFACE.
and runs out of his eftate: + how Paris,
bribed by Juno and Venus, loth to of
fend either party, flept out the whole
cauſe on the bench: or, how fuch an
orator makes long fpeeches in the fenate
with much thought, little ſenſe, and to
no purpoſe; whoever, I fay, fhould ven-
ture to be thus particular, muſt expect
to be impriſoned for ſcandalum magnatum;
to have challenges fent him; to be fued
for defamation; and to be brought before
the bar of the houſe.
But I forget that I am expatiating on
a fubject, wherein I have no concern,
having neither a talent nor an inclination
for fatyr! on the other fide, I am ſo in-
tirely ſatisfied with the whole preſent pro-
cedure of human things, that I have been
fome years preparing materials towards
A panegyric upon the world; to which I
intended to add a fecond part, entitled,
A modeft defence of the proceedings of the
rabble in all ages. Both thefe I had thoughts
to publiſh, by way of appendix to the
† Juno and Venus, are
money and a miftrefs; very
powerful bribes to a judge, if
fcandal fays true. I remember
fuch reflections were caft about
that time, but I cannot fix the
perfon intended here.
following
THE PREFACE.
41
following treatiſe; but, finding my com-
mon-place book fill much flower than I
had reaſon to expect, I have choſen to
defer them to another occafion. Befides,
I have been unhappily prevented in that
deſign by a certain domeſtic misfortune,
in the particulars whereof, tho' it would
be very ſeaſonable, and much in the mo-
dern way, to inform the gentle reader, and
would alſo be of great affiftance towards
extending this preface into the fize now
in vogue, which by rule ought to be large
in proportion as the ſubſequent volume is
Small; yet I fhall now difmifs our im-
patient reader from any farther attendance
at the porch; and, having duly prepared
his mind by a preliminary diſcourſe, fhall
gladly introduce him to the fublime myf-
teries, that enfue.
A TALE
A
TALE of a TUB.
SECT. I.
THE INTRODUCTION.
WHOEVER hath an ambition to
be heard in a croud, muft prefs,
and fqueeze, and thruft, and climb, with
indefatigable pains, 'till he has exalted
himfelf to a certain degree of altitude
above them. Now in all affemblies,
though you wedge them ever fo cloſe,
we may obferve this peculiar property,
that over their heads there is room enough,
but how to reach it is the difficult point;
it being as hard to get quit of number, as
of hell;
evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus, hic labor eft.
To this end the philofopher's way in
all ages has been by erecting certain edi-
*But to return, and view the cheerful ſkies;
In this the talk and mighty labour lies.
fices
!
44
INTRODUCTION.
1
fices in the air: but, whatever practice
and reputation theſe kind of ſtructures
have formerly poffeffed, or may ftill con-
tinue in, not excepting even that of So-
crates, when he was ſuſpended in a baſket
to help contemplation; I think, with due
fubmiffion, they ſeem to labour under two
inconveniences. First, That the founda-
tions being laid too high, they have been
often out of fight, and ever out of hear-
ing. Secondly, That the materials, being
very tranfitory, have fuffered much from
inclemencies of air, eſpecially in theſe
north-weſt regions.
Therefore, towards the juft performance
of this great work there remain but three
methods, that I can think on; whereof
the wiſdom of our anceſtors being highly
fenfible, has, to encourage all aſpiring ad-
venturers, thought fit to erect three wooden
machines for the uſe of thoſe orators, who
defire to talk much without interruption.
Theſe are, the pulpit, the ladder, and the
Stage-itinerant. For, as to the bar, though
it be compounded of the fame matter,
and defigned for the fame uſe, it cannot
however be well allowed the honour of a
fourth,
INTRODUCTION.
45
fourth, by reaſon of its level or inferior
fituation expofing it to perpetual interrup→
tion from collaterals. Neither can the
bench itſelf, though raiſed to a proper
eminency, put in a better claim, whatever
its advocates infift on. For, if they pleaſe
to look into the original defign of its e-
rection, and the circumſtances or adjuncts
ſubſervient to that defign, they will ſoon
acknowledge the prefent practice exactly
correſpondent to the primitive inftitution,
and both to anſwer the etymology of the
name, which in the Phoenician tongue is
a word of great fignification, importing,
if literally interpreted, the place of fleep;
but in common acceptation, a feat well
bolſtered and cushioned, for the repoſe of
old and gouty limbs: fenes ut in otia tuta
recedant. Fortune being indebted to them
this part of retaliation, that, as formerly
they have long talked, whilft others flept,
ſo now they may fleep as long, whilſt
others talk.
But if no other argument could occur
to exclude the bench and the bar from the
lift of oratorial machines, it were fuffici-
ent, that the admiffion of them would
overthrow
&
46
INTRODUCTION,
overthrow a number, which I was refolv
ed to eſtabliſh, whatever argument it
might coft me; in imitation of that pru-
dent method obferved by many other phi-
lofophers and great clerks, whoſe chief
art in divifion has been to grow fond of
ſome proper myſtical number, which their
imaginations have rendered facred, to a
degree, that they force common reaſon to
find room for it in every part of nature;
reducing, including, and adjufting every
genus and ſpecies within that compafs, by
coupling fome againſt their wills, and
baniſhing others at any rate. Now, among
all the reft, the profound number THREE
is that, which hath moſt employed my
fublimeft fpeculations, nor ever without
wonderful delight. There is now in the
prefs, and will be publiſhed next term, a
panegyrical effay of mine upon this num→
ber, wherein I have by moſt convincing
proofs not only reduced the fenfes and the
elements under its banner, but brought
over ſeveral deferters from its two great
rivals, SEVEN and NINE.
Now, the firſt of theſe oratorial ma-
chines in place, as well as dignity, is the
pulpit.
No 2 Vol: 1 p:47.
m
Müller ine, del et le
INTRODUCTION.
47
:
pulpit. Of pulpits there are in this iſland
feveral forts; but I eſteem only that made
of timber from the fylva Caledonia, which
agrees very well with our climate. If it
be upon its decay, it is the better both
for conveyance of found, and for other
reaſons to be mentioned by and by. The
degree of perfection in fhape and fize I
take to confiſt in being extreamly narrow,
with litle ornament, and beft of all with-
out a cover (for, by antient rule it ought
to be the only uncovered veffel in every
affembly, where it is rightfully uſed) by
which means, from its near refemblance
to a pillory, it will ever have a mighty in-
Aluence on human ears.
Of ladders I need fay nothing: it is
obferved by foreigners themſelves, to the
honour of our country, that we excel all
nations in our practice and underſtanding
of this machine. The aſcending orators
do not only oblige their audience in the a-
greeable delivery, but the whole world
in the early publication of their ſpeeches;
which I look upon as the choiceft treaſury
of our Britiſh eloquence, and whereof, I
am informed, that worthy citizen and
book-
48
INTRODUCTION.
bookfeller, Mr. John Dunton, hath made
a faithful and a painful collection, which
he fhortly defigns to publiſh in twelve
volumes in folio, illuftrated with copper-
plates. A work highly uſeful and curious,
and altogether worthy of fuch a hand.
The laft engine of orators is the * ftage
itinerant, erected with much fagacity, †
fub fove pluvio, in triviis & quadriviis. It
is the great feminary of the two former,
and its orators are ſometimes preferred to
the one, and fometimes to the other, in
proportion to their defervings, there being
a ftrict and perpetual intercourſe between
all three.
From this accurate deduction it is ma-
nifeft, that for obtaining attention in pub-
lic there is of neceffity required a fuperior
pofition of place. But, although this point
be generrlly granted, yet the cauſe is lit-
tle agreed in; and it ſeems to me, that
very few philoſophers have fallen into a
true, natural folution of this phenomenon.
The deepeſt account, and the moſt fairly
* Is the mountebank's ftage,
whoſe orators the author de-
termines either to the gallows
or a conventicle.
+ In the open air, and in
ftreets where the greatest re-
fort is.
digefted
INTRODUCTION.
49
digefted of any I have yet met with, is
this; that air being a heavy body, and
therefore, according to the fyftem of
* Epicurus, continually defcending, muſt
needs be more fo, when loaden and preffed
down by words; which are alfo bodies of
much weight and gravity, as it is manifeft
from thoſe deep impreffions they make and
leave upon us; and therefore muſt be de-
livered from a due altitude, or elſe they
will neither carry a good aim, nor fall
down with a fufficient force.
+ Corpoream quoque enim vocem conftare
fatendum eft,
Et fonitum, quoniam poffunt impellere
fenfus.
¡
Lucr. Lib.
4.
And I am the readier to favour this
conjecture from a common obfervation;
that in the ſeveral affemblies of theſe ora-
tors, nature itſelf hath inftructed the
hearers to ftand with their mouths open,
and erected parallel to the horizon, ſo as
they may be interfected by a perpendicu-
* Lucret. Lib. 2.
+ 'Tis certain then, that voice that thus can wound,
Is all material; body every found.
VOL. I.
E
lar
50
INTRODUCTION.
lar line from the zenith to the center of
the earth. In which poſition, if the au-
dience be well compact, every one carries
home a fhare, and little or nothing is loft.
I confeſs, there is ſomething yet more
refined in the contrivance and ftructure
of our modern theatres. For, firſt, the
pit is funk below the ſtage with due re-
gard to the inftitution above-deduced;
that whatever weighty matter fhall be de-
livered thence, whether it be lead or gold,
may fall plum into the jaws of certain
critics, as I think they are called, which
ftand ready opened to devour them.
Then, the boxes are built round, and
raiſed to a level with the ſcene, in de-
ference to the ladies; becauſe, that large
portion of wit, laid out in raiſing pru-
riences and protuberances, is obſerved to
run much upon a line, and ever in a cir-
cle. The whining paffions, and little
ſtarved conceits are gently wafted up by
their own extreme levity to the middle
region, and there fix and are frozen by
the frigid underſtandings of the inhabi-
tants. Bombaftry and buffoonry, by na-
ture lofty and light, foar higheft of all,
and
INTRODUCTION.
si
pru-
and would be loft in the roof, if the
dent architect had not with much fore-
fight contrived for them a fourth place,
called the twelve-penny-gallery, and there
planted a fuitable colony, who greedily
intercept them in their paffage.
Now this phyfico-logical ſcheme of ora-
torial receptacles or machines contains a
great myſtery, being a type, a fign, an
emblem, a fhadow, a fymbol, bearing
analogy to the ſpacious commonwealth of
writers, and to thofe methods by which
they muſt exalt themfelves to a certain
eminency above the inferior world. By the
pulpit are adumbrated the writings of
our modern faints in Great-Britain, as
they have fpiritualiſed and refined them
from the drofs and groffnefs of fenfe and hu-
man reafon. The matter, as we have faid, is
of rotten wood; and that upon two con-
fiderations; becaufe it is the quality of
rotten wood to give light in the dark: and
fecondly, becauſe its cavities are full of
worms; which is a *type with a pair of
The two principal qua-
lifications of a fanatic preacher
are, his inward light, and his
head full of maggots; and the
two different fates of his writ-
ings are, to be burnt or worm-
eaten.
E 2
handles,
52
INTRODUCTION.
}
handles, having a refpect to the two prin-
cipal qualifications of the orator, and the
two different fates attending upon his works.
The ladder is an adequate fymbol of
faction, and of poetry, to both of which
fo noble a number of authors are indebted
for their fame. † Of faction, becauſe *
*
*
Hiatus in
MS.
Of poetry,
becauſe its orators do perorare with a fong;
and becauſe climbing up by flow degrees,
fate is fure to turn them off before they
can reach within many fteps of the top:
and becauſe it is a preferment attained by
transferring of propriety, and a confound-
ing of meum and tuum.
Under the ftage itinerant are couched
thoſe productions defigned for the pleaſure
and delight of mortal man; fuchas, fix-
penny-worth of wit, Westminster drolleries,
delightful tales, compleat jefters, and the
+ Here is pretended a defect
in the manuſcript; and this is
very frequent with our author,
either when he thinks he can-
not ſay any thing worth read-
ing, or when he has no mind
to enter on the fubject, or
when it is a matter of little
moment, or perhaps to amuſe
his reader, whereof he is fre-
quently very fond; or, laftly,
with fome fatyrical intention.
like;
INTRODUCTION.
53
like; by which the writers of and for
GRUB-STREET have in theſe latter
ages fo nobly triumphed over time; have
clipped his wings, pared his nails, filed
his teeth, turned back his hourglafs, blunt-
ed his ſcythe, and drawn the hobnails out
of his fhoes. It is under this clafs, I have
prefumed to lift my preſent treatiſe, being
juſt come from having the honour confer-
red upon me, to be adopted a member of -
that illuſtrious fraternity.
Now, I am not unaware, how the
pro-
ductions of the Grub-street brotherhood
have of late years fallen under many pre-
judices, nor how it has been the per-
petual employment of two junior ftart-up
focieties to ridicule them and their authors,
as unworthy their eſtabliſhed poft in the
commonwealth of wit and learning. Their
own confciences will eafily inform them,
whom I mean; nor has the world been fo
negligent a looker-on, as not to obferve
the continual efforts made by the focieties
of Gresham * and of † Will's to edify a
* Gresham college was the
place where the Royal Society
then met, from whence they
name
removed to Crane - Court in
Fleet-Street.
+ Will's coffee-houſe in Co-
E 3
vent
54
INTRODUCTION.
name and reputation upon the ruin of
OURS. And this is yet a more feeling
grief to us, upon the regards of tenderneſs
as well as of juſtice, when we reflect on their
proceedings not only as unjuft, but as un-
grateful, undutiful, and unnatural. For
how can it be forgot by the world or them-
feives, to ſay nothing of our own records,
which are full and clear in the point, that
they both are feminaries not only of our
planting, but our watering too? I am
informed, our two rivals have lately made
an offer to enter into the lifts with united
forces, and challenge us to a compariſon
of books, both as to weight and number.
In return to which, with licence from our
prefident, I humbly offer two anſwers :
firft, we fay, the propofal is like that
which Archimedes made upon a * Smaller
affair, including an impoffibility in the
practice; for, where can they find ſcales of
capacity enough for the firſt, or an arithme¬
tician of capacity enough for the ſecond. Se-
condly, we are ready to accept the chal-
vent-Garden was formerly the
place where the poets ufually
met, which, though it be yet
freſh in memory, in fome years
may be forgotten, and want
this explanation.
* Viz. About moving the
earth.
lenge;
INTRODUCTION.
$5
lenge; but with this condition, that a third
indifferent perfon be affigned, to whoſe im-
partial judgment it fhould be left to de-
cide, which fociety each book, treatiſe or
pamphlet do moft properly belong to.
This point, God knows, is very far from
being fixed at prefent: for, we are ready
to produce a catalogue of fome thouſands,
which in all common juſtice ought to be
entitled to our fraternity, but by the re-
volted and new-fangled writers moſt per-
fidiouſly aſcribed to the others. Upon all
which, we think it very unbecoming our
prudence, that the determination fhould
be remitted to the authors themſelves;
when our adverſaries by briguing and ca-
balling have caufed ſo univerſal a defection
from us, that the greateſt part of our fociety
hath already deſerted to them, and our
neareſt friends begin to ſtand aloof, as if
they were half-aſhamed to own us.
This is the utmoſt I an authoriſed to
ſay upon ſo ungrateful and melancholy a
fubject; becauſe we are extreme unwill-
ing to inflame a controverfy, whoſe con-
tinuance may
may be ſo fatal to the intereſts of
us all, defiring much rather that things
E 4
be
56
INTRODUCTION.
be amicably compoſed; and we ſhall fo
far advance on our fide, as to be ready to
receive the two prodigals with open arms
whenever they fhall think fit to return
from their buſks and their harlots; which,
I think, from the * prefent courſe of their
ſtudies they moſt properly may be ſaid to
be engaged in; and like an indulgent pa-
rent continue to them our affection and
our bleffing.
But the greateſt maim given to that
general reception, which the writings of
our fociety have formerly received (next
to the tranſitory ſtate of all fublunary
things) hath been a fuperficial vein among
many readers of the preſent age, who will
by no means be perfuaded to inſpect be-
yond the furface and the rind of things;
whereas, wifdom is a fox, who, after long
hunting, will at laſt coſt you the pains
to dig out; it is a cheeſe, which, by how
much the richer, has the thicker, the
homelier, and the coarfer coat; and where-
of to a judicious palate the maggots are
the beſt it is a fack-poffet, wherein the
deeper you go, you will find it the fweeter,
Virtuofo experiments, and modern comedies.
Wiſdom
INTRODUCTION.
57
Wiſdom is a hen, whofe cackling we muſt
value and confider, becauſe it is attended
with an egg: but, then laftly, it is a nut,
which, unleſs you chufe with judgment,
may coſt you a tooth, and pay you with no-
thing but a worm. In confequence of theſe
momentous truths, the grubean ſages
have always choſen to convey their pre-
cepts and their arts fhut up within the ve-
hicles of types and fables, which having
been perhaps more careful and curious in
adorning, than was altogether neceſſary,
it has fared with theſe vehicles, after the
ufual fate of coaches over finely painted and
gilt; that the tranfitory gazers have fo
dazzled their eyes, and filled their ima-
ginations with the outward luftre, as nei-
ther to regard or confider the perfon or
the parts of the owner within. A misfor-
tune we undergo with fomewhat leſs re-
luctancy, becauſe it has been common to
us with Pythagoras, fop, Socrates, and
other of our predeceffors.
However, that neither the world, nor
ourfelves, may any longer fuffer by fuch
mifunderſtandings, I have been prevailed
on, after much importunity from my
friends,
58
INTRODUCTION.
friends, to travel in a compleat and labo-
rious differtation upon the prime produc-
tions of our fociety, which, befides their
beautiful externals for the gratification of
fuperficial readers, have darkly and deeply
couched under them the moſt finiſhed and
refined ſyſtems of all ſciences and arts; as
I do not doubt to lay open by untwiſting
or unwinding, and either to draw up by
exantlation, or difplay by incifion.
This great work was entered upon fome
years ago by one of our moſt eminent
members: he began with the hiftory of
+ Reynard the fox, but neither lived to pub-
lifh his effay, nor to proceed farther in fo
uſeful an attempt, which is very much to
be lamented, becauſe the diſcovery he
made, and communicated with his friends,
is now univerfally received; nor do I think,
any of the learned will difpute that famous
treatiſe to be a compleat body of civil
knowledge, and the revelation, or rather
the apocalypfe of all ſtate arcana. But the
progrefs I have made is much greater,
+ The author feems here
to be miſtaken, for I have feen
a Latin edition of Reynard the
fox above a hundred years old,
which I take to be the origi-
nal; for the reft, it has been
thought by many people to
contain fome fatyrical defign
in it.
having
INTRODUCTION.
59
having already finiſhed my annotations
upon ſeveral dozens; from fome of which,
I ſhall impart a few hints to the candid
reader, as far as will be neceffary to the
conclufion, at which I aim.
The firſt piece I have handled is that
of Tom Thumb, whofe author was a Pytha
gorean philofopher. This dark treatife con-
tains the whole ſcheme of the Metemp
fychofs, deducing the progrefs of the foul
through all her ſtages.
The next is Dr. Fauftus, penned by
Artephius, an author bone note, and an
adeptus; he publiſhed it in the * nine-
hundred-eighty-fourth year of his age; this
writer proceeds wholly by reincrudation,
or in the via bumida: and the marriage
between Fauftus and Helen does moſt con-
ſpicuouſly dilucidate the fermenting of the
male and female dragon.
Whittington and his cat is the work of that
myſterious rabbi, Jehuda Hannafi,contain-
ing a defence of the + gemara of the Jeru-
falem miſna, and its juſt preference to that
*The chymifts fay of him
in their books, that he pro-
longed his life to a thouſand
years, and then died volun-
tarily.
The gemara is the deci
fion, explanation, or interpre-
tation of the Jewiſh rabbis
and the mifna is properly the
code or body of the Jewish
civil or common law.
of
60
INTRODUCTION.
of Babylon, contrary to the vulgar opinion.
The bind and panther. This is the
maſter-piece of a famous * writer now
living, intended for a compleat abſtract
of fixteen thousand fchool-men from Scotus
to Bellarmin.
Tommy Pots. Another piece fuppofed
by the fame hand, by way of fupplement
to the former.
The wife men of Goatham, cum ap-
pendice. This is a treatiſe of immenfe erudi-
tion, being the great original and fountain
of thofe arguments, bandied about both
in France and England, for a juft defence
of the moderns learning and wit againſt
the prefumption, the pride, and igno-
rance of the antients. This unknown au-
thor hath ſo exhauſted the ſubject, that a
penetrating reader will eafily diſcover what-
ever hath been written fince upon
upon that dif-
pute to be little more than repetition. † An
abftract of this treatiſe hath been lately pub-
liſhed by a worthy member of our ſociety.
Theſe notices may ſerve to give the learn-
ed reader an idea, as well as a tafte, of what
* Viz. In the year 1698.
+ This I fuppofe to be un-
derſtood of Mr. Wotton's dif
courſe of ancient and modern
learning.
the
INTRODUCTION.
61
the whole work is likely to produce; where-
in I have now altogether circumfcribed my
thoughts and my ftudies; and, if I can bring
it to a perfection before I die, fhall reckon
I have well employed the* poor remains
of an unfortunate life. This indeed is more
than I can juftly expect from a quill worn
to the pith in the ſervice of the ſtate, in pro's
and con's upon popiſh plots, and † meal tubs,
and exclufion bills, and paffive obedience, and
addreſſes of lives and fortunes; and preroga-
tive, and property, and liberty of confcience,
and letters to a friend: from an underſtand-
ing and a confcience thread-bare and ragged
with perpetual turning; from a head brok-
en in a hundred places by the malignants of
the oppofite factions; and from a body ſpent
with poxes ill cured, by truſting to bawds
and furgeons, who, as it afterwards ap-
peared, were profeffed enemies to me and
the
government, and revenged their par-
ty's quarrel upon my nofe and fhins. Four-
ſcore and eleven pamphlets have I written
* Here the author feems to
perfonate L'Estrange, Dryden,
and fome others, who, after
having paſt their lives in vices,
faction and falfhood, have the
impudence to talk of merit
and innocence and fufferings.
+ In king Charles the Se-
cond's time, there was an ac-
count of a prefbyterian plot,
found in a tub, which then
made much noife.
under
62
INTRODUCTION.
under three reigns, and for the fervice of
fix and thirty factions. But, finding the
ftate has no farther occafion for me and
my ink, I retire willingly to draw it out
into fpeculations more becoming a philofo-
pher; having, to my unfpeakable com-
fort, paffed a long life with a confcience
void of offence.
But to return. I am affured from the
reader's candor, that the brief fpecimen
I have given, will eafily clear all the reft
of our fociety's productions from an afper-
fion grown, as it is manifeft, out of envy
and ignorance; that they are of little far-
ther uſe or value to mankind beyond the
common entertainments of their wit and
their ſtyle; for theſe I am fure have never
yet been difputed by our keeneft adver-
faries: in both which, as well as the more
profound and myftical part, I have through-
out this treatiſe clofely followed the moft
applauded originals. And to render all
compleat, I have with much thought and
application of mind fo ordered, that the
chief title prefixed to it, I mean, that un-
der which I defign it fhall pafs in the
common converfations of court and town,
19
INTRODUCTION.
63
is modelled exactly after the manner pe-
culiar to our fociety.
I confefs to have been fomewhat liberal
in the buſineſs of * titles, having obſerved
the humour of multiplying them to bear
great vogue among certain writers, whom
I exceedingly reverence. And indeed it
ſeems not unreaſonable, that books, the
children of the brain, fhould have the
honour to be chriſtened with variety of
names, as well as other infants of quality.
Our famous Dryden has ventured to pro-
ceed a point farther, endeavouring to in-
troduce alfo a multiplicity of god-fathers;
which is an improvement of much more
advantage upon a very obvious account.
It is a pity this admirable invention has
not been better cultivated, fo as to grow
by this time into general imitation, when
fuch an authority ferves it for a precedent.
Nor have my endeavours been wanting to
fecond fo uſeful an example: but it feems,
there is an unhappy expence ufually an-
nexed to the calling of a god-father, which
*The title-page in the ori-
ginal was fo torn, that it was
not poffible to recover feveral
titles, which the author here
fpeaks of.
+ See Virgil tranflated, &c.
he dedicated the different parts
of Virgil to different patrons.
was
64
INTRODUCTION.
was clearly out of my head, as it is very rea-
fonable to believe. Where the pinch lay,
I cannot certainly affirm; but having em-
ployed a world of thoughts and pains to
fplit my treatiſe into forty fections, and
having intreated forty lords of my ac-
quaintance, that they would do me the ho-
nour to ſtand, they all made it a matter of
conſcience, and fent me their excuſes.
ONG
SECT. II.
NCE upon a time, there was a man
who had three * fons by one wife,
and all at a birth, neither could the mid-
wife tell certainly which was the eldeſt.
Their father died while they were young;
and upon his death-bed, calling the lads
to him, ſpoke thus:
Sons; becauſe I have purchaſed no eftate,
nor was born to any, I have long confidered
of fome good legacies to bequeath you; and
at laft, with much care as well as expence,
have provided each of you (here they are)
* By theſe three fons, Pe-
ter, Martin, and Jack, Po-
pery, the Church of England,
and our Proteftant Diffenters
are defigned. W. Wotton.
a new
A TALE OF A TUB.
a new
*
coat. Now, you are to understand,
that theſe coats have two virtues contained
in them: one is, that with good wearing
they will laſt you freſh and found as long
as you live: the other is, that they will grow
in the fame proportion with your bodies, leng-
thening and widening of themselves, ſo as to
be always fit. Here; let me fee them on you
before I die. So; very well; pray children
wear them clean, and brush them often.
You will find in my † will (here it is)
full inftructions in every particular con-
cerning the wearing and management of
your coats; wherein you must be very exact,
to avoid the penalties I have appointed for
every tranfgreffion or neglect, upon which
your future fortunes will intirely depend. I
have alfo commanded in my will, that you
fhould live together in one houſe like brethren
and friends, for then you will be fure to
thrive, and not otherwife.
Here the ſtory ſays, this good father
* By his coats, which he
gave his fons, the garment of
the Ifraelites. W. Wotton.
An error (with fubmiffion)
of the learned commentator;
for by the coats are meant the
VOL. I.
doctrine and faith of chriftiani-
ty, by the wisdom of the divine
founder fitted to all times,
places, and circumftances.
Lambin.
F
+ The new teftament.
died,
66 A TALE OF A TUB.
->
7
died, and the three fons went all together
to feek their fortunes.
I fhall not trouble you with recounting
what adventures they met for the firſt
ſeven years, any farther than by taking
notice, that they carefully obferved their
father's will, and kept their coats in very
good order: that they travelled through
feveral countries, encountered a reaſonable
quantity of giants, and flew certain dra-
gons.
Being now arrived at the proper age
for producing themſelves, they came up
to town, and fell in love with the ladies,
but eſpecially three, who about that time
were in chief reputation: the ducheſs
d' Argent, madame de Grands Titres, and
the countess d'Orgueil. On their firſt ap-
pearance our three adventurers met with
a very bad reception; and foon with great
fagacity gueffing out the reaſon, they quick-
ly began to improve in the good qualities
of the town: they writ and raillied, and
* Their miſtreffes are the
duchefs d'Argent, mademoiselle
de Grands Titres, and the
countess d'Orgueil, i. e. cove-
toufness, ambition, and pride;
which were the three great
vices that the ancient fathers
inveighed againſt, as the firſt
corruptions of chriſtianity. W.
Wotton.
rhymed,
A TALE OF A TUB.
67
rhymed, and ſung, and ſaid, and ſaid no-
thing: they drank, and fought, and whor-
ed, and flept, and fwore, and took fnuff:
they went to new plays on the firſt night,
haunted the chocolate houſes, beat the
watch, lay on bulks, and got claps: they
bilked hackney coachmen, ran in debt
with ſhopkeepers, and lay with their wives:
they killed bayliffs, kicked fidlers down
ftairs, eat at Locket's, loitered at Will's:
they talked of the drawing-room, and ne-
ver came there: dined with lords they
never faw: whiſpered a duchefs, and
ſpoke never a word: expoſed the fcrawls
of their laundrefs for billetdoux of quality:
came ever juft from court, and were never
ſeen in it: attended the levee fub dio: got
a lift of peers by heart in one company,
and with great familiarity retailed them
in another. Above all, they conſtantly
attended thoſe committies of fenators, who
are filent in the houſe, and loud in the
coffee house, where they nightly adjourn
to chew the cud of politics, and are en-
compaffed with a ring of difciples, who
lie in wait to catch up their droppings.
The three brothers had acquired forty other
F 2
qualifi-
68
A TALE OF A TU B.
qualifications of the like ftamp, too te-
dious to recount, and by confequence were
juſtly reckoned the moſt accompliſhed
perfons in the town: but all would not
fuffice, and the ladies aforefaid continued
ftill inflexible. To clear
To clear up which diffi-
culty I muſt, with the reader's good leave
and patience, have recourſe to ſome points
of weight, which the authors of that age
have not fufficiently illuſtrated.
For,* about this time it happened a ſect
aroſe, whoſe tenets obtained and ſpread
very far, eſpecially in the grand monde,
and among every body of good faſhion.
They worſhipped a fort of † idol, who,
as their doctrine delivered, did daily create
men by a kind of manufactory opera-
tion. This idol they placed in the high-
eft parts of the houſe, on an altar erected
about three foot: he was fhewn in the
poſture of a Perfian emperor, fitting on
a fuperficies, with his legs interwoven un-
der him. This god had a goofe for his
enfign; whence it is, that fome learned
*This is an occafional fa-
tyr upon dreſs and faſhion in
order to introduce what fol-
lows.
+ By this idol is meant
taylor.
men
:
A TALE OF A TUB.
69
men pretend to deduce his original from
Jupiter Capitolinus. At his left-hand,
beneath the altar, hell feemed to open, and
catch at the animals the idol was creating;
to prevent which, certain of his priefts
hourly flung in pieces of the uninformed
maſs, or ſubſtance, and ſometimes whole
limbs already enlivened, which that hor-
rid gulph inſatiably fwallowed, terrible to
behold. The goofe was alfo held a fubal-
tern divinity, or deus minorum gentium,
before whoſe fhrine was facrificed that
creature, whoſe hourly food is human
gore, and who is in fo great renown abroad
for being the delight and favourite of
the * Egyptian Cercopithecus. Millions
of theſe animals were cruelly flaughtered
every day to appeaſe the hunger of that
confuming deity. The chief idol was alſo
worſhipped as the inventor of the yard
and needle, whether as the god of feamen,
or on account of certain other myftical at-
tributes, hath not been fufficiently cleared.
The worſhippers of this deity had alſo
*The Egyptians worship- ftyled here creatures that feed
ped a monkey, which animal
on human gore.
is very fond of eating lice,
F 3
a ſyſtem
70
A TALE OF A TU B.
a ſyſtem of their belief, which feemed to
turn upon the following fundamentals.
They held the univerſe to be a large fuit
of cloaths, which invefts every thing: that
the earth is invested by the air; the air is
inveſted by the ſtars; and the ſtars are in-
vefted by the primum mobile. Look on
this globe of earth, you will find it to be
a very compleat and faſhionable dress.
What is that which fome call land, but a
fine coat faced with green? or the fea,
but a waiſtcoat of water-tabby? proceed
to the particular works of the creation,
you will find how curious journeyman na-
ture hath been to trim
up the
the vegetable
beaux: obſerve how ſparkiſh a periwig
adorns the head of a beech, and what a
fine doublet of white fatin is worn by the
birch. To conclude from all, what is
man himſelf but a * micro-coat, or rather
a compleat fuit of cloaths with all its trim-
mings? as to his body there can be no dif-
pute but examine even the acquirements
of his mind, you will find them all con-
tribute in their order towards furniſhing
Alluding to the word as man hath been called by
microcofm, or a little world, philofophers,
out
A TALE OF A TU B.
71
out an exact drefs: to inftance no more;
is not religion a cloak, honeſty a pair of
fhoes worn out in the dirt, felf-love a fur-
tout, vanity a ſhirt, and conſcience a pair
of breeches, which, though a cover for
lewdneſs as well as naftiness, is eaſily flipt
down for the fervice of both?
Thefe poftulata being admitted, it will
follow in due courſe of reaſoning, that
thoſe beings, which the world calls im-
properly fuits of cloaths, are in reality
the moſt refined fpecies of animals; or to
proceed higher, that they are rational crea-
tures, or men. For, is it not manifeſt,
that they live, and move, and talk, and
perform all other offices of human life?
are not beauty, and wit, and mien, and
breeding their infeparable proprieties? in
fhort we ſee nothing but them, hear no-
thing but them. Is it not they, who walk
the ftreets, fill up parliament. coffee
— play—, bawdy-houfes? It is true
indeed, that theſe animals, which are
vulgarly called fuits of cloaths, or dreffes,
do according to certain compofitions
receive different appellations. If one of
them be trimmed up with a gold chain,
F 4
and
72
A TALE OF A TUB.
and a red gown, and a white rod, and a
great horſe, it is called a lord-mayor: if
certain ermins and furrs be placed in a
certain pofition, we ftyle them a judge;
and fo an apt conjunction of lawn and
black fattin we intitle a biſhop.
>
Others of theſe profeffors, though agree-
ing in the main fyftem, were yet more
refined upon certain branches of it; and
held, that man was an animal compound-
ed of two dreſſes, the natural and celeftial
fuit, which were the body and the foul:
that the foul was the outward, and the
body the inward cloathing; that the lat-
ter was ex traduce; but the former of daily
creation and circumfufion; this laſt they
proved by ſcripture, becauſe, in them we
live, and move, and have our being: as
likewife by philofophy, becauſe they are
all in all, and all in every part. Beſides,
faid they, feparate theſe two, and you
will find the body to be only a ſenſeleſs
unfavoury carcafs. By all which it is
manifeft, that the outward drefs muſt
needs be the foul.
To this fyftem of religion, were tagged
feveral
A TALE OF A TU B. 73
;
feveral fubaltern * doctrines, which were
entertained with great vogue; as parti-
cularly, the faculties of the mind were
deduced by the learned among them in
this manner: embroidery, was ſheer wit
gold fringe, was agreeable converfation;
gold lace, was repartee; a huge long peri-
wig, was humour; and a coat full of powder,
was very good raillery: all which required
abundance of fineſſe and delicateffe to ma-
nage with advantage, as well as a ſtrict
obfervance after times and faſhions.
I have, with much pains and reading,
collected out of antient authors this fhort
ſummary of a body of philoſophy and
divinity, which ſeems to have been com-
poſed by a vein and race of thinking, very
*The first part of the Tale
is the hiſtory of Peter; there-
by popery is expoſed: every
body knows the papists have
made great additions to chrif-
tianity, that indeed is the great
exception which the church of
England makes against them;
accordingly Peter begins his
pranks with adding a ſhoulder-
knot to his coat. W. Wotton.
His defcription of the cloth,
of which the coat was made,
has a farther meaning than the
words may feem to import;
cr
..
"The coats their father had
" left them, were of very good
"cloth, and befides, fo neatly
fown, you would fwear they
were all of a piece; but at
the fame time very plain,
"with little or no ornament.
This is the diftinguiſhing cha-
racter of the chriſtian religion:
chriftiana religio abfoluta &
fimplex, was Ammianus Mar-
cellinus's defcription of it, who
was himſelf a heathen. W.
Wotton.
different
74
A TALE OF A TU B.
:
different from any other fyftems either
antient or modern. And it was not meer-
ly to entertain or fatisfy the reader's cu-
riofity, but rather to give him light into
feveral circumſtances of the following ftory;
that, knowing the ftate of difpofitions
and opinions in an age fo remote, he
may better comprehend thofe great events,
which were the iffue of them. I adviſe
therefore the courteous reader to peruſe
with a world of application, again and
again, whatever I have written upon this
matter. And leaving theſe broken ends,
I carefully gather up the chief thread of
my ftory, and proceed.
Theſe opinions therefore were ſo uni-
verfal, as well as the practices of them,
among the refined part of court and town,
that our three brother-adventurers, as
their circumftances then flood, were
ſtrangely at a loſs. For, on the one fide,
the three ladies they addreffed themſelves
to, whom we have named already, were
ever at the very top of the faſhion, and
abhorred all that were below it but the
breadth of a hair. On the other fide, their
father's will was very precife, and it was
the
A TALE OF A TUB.
75
the main precept in it, with the greateſt
penalties annexed, not to add to, or dimi-
nifh from their coats one thread without
pofitive command in the will. Now the
coats their father had left them, were, 'tis
true, of very good cloth, and befides, fo
neatly fown, you would fwear they were
all of a piece; but at the fame time very
plain, and with little or no ornament :
and it happened, that before they were a
month in town, great * fhoulder-knots came
up: ftrait all the world was ſhoulder-knots;
no approaching the ladies ruelles without
quota of ſhoulder-knots. That fellow,
cries one, has no foul; where is his fhoulder-
knot? Our three brethren foon diſcovered
their want by fad experience, meeting in
their walks with forty mortifications and
indignities. If they went to the play-houſe,
the door-keeper fhewed them into the
twelve-penny gallery. If they called a
boat, fays a waterman, I am firft fculler.
If they ſtepped to the roſe to take a bottle,
the drawer would cry, Friend, we fell no
the
* By this is underſtood the
first introducing of pageantry,
and unneceffary ornaments in
the church, fuch as were nei-
ther for convenience nor edi-
fication, as a fhoulder-knot, in
which there is neither ſymme-
try nor ufe.
ale.
76
A TALE OF A TUB.
ale. If they went to vifit a lady, a foot-
man met them at the door, with pray fend
up your meſſage. In this unhapy cafe they
went immediately to confult their father's
will, read it over and over, but not a
word of the shoulder-knot: what ſhould
they do? what temper fhould they find?
obedience was abfolutely neceffary, and
yet ſhoulder-knots appeared extremely re-
quifite. After much thought one of the
brothers, who happened to be more book
learned than the other two, faid, he had
found an expedient. It is true, faid he,
there is nothing here in this will, totidem
verbis, making mention of fhoulder-knots:
but I dare conjecture, we may find them
inclufivè, or, totidem fyllabis. This dif
tinction was immediately approved by
all; and fo they fell again to examine; but
their evil ftar had fo directed the matter,
that the firſt fyllable was not to be found
in the whole writings. Upon which dif-
appointment he, who found the former
evafion, took heart, and faid, Brothers,
there is yet hopes; for though we cannot find
them totidem verbis, nor totidem fyllabis,
Idare engage we shall make them out tertio
modo,
No 3.
P.76:
J.S. Müller im: del. et Sc.
-
A TALE OF A TUB.
77
modo, or totidem literis. This diſcovery
was alſo highly commended, upon which
they fell once more to the fcrutiny, and
picked out S, H, O, U, L, D, E, R; when
the fame planet, enemy to their repoſe,
had wonderfully contrived, that a K was
not to be found. Here was a weighty
difficulty! but the diſtinguiſhing brother,
for whom we ſhall hereafter find a name,
now his hand was in, proved by a very
good argument, that K was a modern
illegitimate letter, unknown to the learn-
ed ages, nor any where to be found in
antient manuſcripts. Calende hath in ‡
Q. V. C. been fometimes written with a
K, but erroneously; for in the beſt co-
pies it has been ever fpelt with a C. And
by conſequence it was a groſs miſtake in
our language to fpell knot with a K; but
that from henceforward, he would take
care it ſhould be written with a C. Upon
this all farther difficulty vanished; ſhoulder-
knots were made clearly out to be jure pa-
terno; and our three gentlemen fwaggered
with as large and as flaunting ones as the beft.
‡ Quibufdam veteribus codicibus. Some ancient manu-
fcripts.
But,
78 A TALE OF A TU B.
1
But, as human happineſs is of a very
fhort duration, fo in thoſe days were
human faſhions, upon which it intirely
depends. Shoulder-knots had their time,
and we muſt now imagine them in their
decline; for a certain lord came juft from
Paris with fifty yards of gold-lace upon
his coat, exactly trimmed after the court-
fafhion of that month. In two days all
mankind appeared cloſed up in bars of *
gold-lace: whoever durft peep abroad with-
out his compliment of gold-lace, was as
ſcandalous as a—and as ill received among
the women: what ſhould our three knights
do in this momentous affair? they had
ſufficiently ſtrained a point already in the
affair of ſhoulder-knots: upon recourſe to the
will, nothing appeared there, but altum
filentium. That of the ſhoulder-knots was
a looſe, flying, circumftantial point; but
this of gold-lace feemed too confiderable
an alteration without better warrant; it
did aliquo modo effentiæ adhærere, and
therefore required a poſitive precept. But
* I cannot tell whether the
author means any new inno-
vation by this word, or whe-
ther it be only to introduce
the new methods of forcing
and perverting fcripture.
about
A TALE OF A TUB.
79
about this time it fell out, that the learn-
ed brother aforefaid, had read Ariftotelis
dialectica, and efpecially that wonderful
piece de interpretatione, which has the fa-
culty of teaching its readers to find out a
meaning in every thing but itſelf; like
commentators on the revelations, who pro-
ceed prophets without underſtanding aſyl-
lable of the text. Brothers, faid he, you
are to be informed, that of wills duo funt
genera, * nuncupatory and fcriptory; that
in the fcriptory will here before us, there is
no precept or mention about gold-lace, con-
ceditur: but, fi idem affirmetur de nun-
cupatoria, negatur. For, brothers, if you
remember, we heard a fellow fay, when
we were boys, that he heard my father's
man fay, that he heard my father fay,
that he would adviſe his fons to get gold-
lace on their coats, as foon as ever they
could procure money to buy it. + By G-
that is very true, cries the other; I re-
* By this is meant tradi-
tion, allowed to have equal
authority with the fcripture,
or rather greater.
+ When the papiſts cannot
find any thing which they want
in Scripture, they go to oral
tradition: Thus Peter is intro-
duced diffatisfied with the te-
dious way of looking for all
the letters of any word, which
he has occafion for in the will;
when neither the conftituent
fyllables, nor much leſs the
whole word, were there in
terminis. W. Wotton.
member
80
A TALE OF A TUE.
member it perfectly well, faid the third.
And fo without more ado they got the
largeſt gold-lace in the pariſh, and walked
about as fine as lords.
A while after there came up all in fa-
fhion a pretty fort of + flame-coloured fatin
for linings; and the mercer brought a pat-
tern of it immediately to our three gentle-
men: An pleaſe your worſhips, faid he, my
lord C-, and fir J. W. had linings out of
this very piece last night; it takes wonder-
fully, and I fhall not have a remnant left,
enough to make my wife a pin-cushion, by
to morrow morning at ten a clock. Upon
this they fell again to rummage the will,
becauſe the preſent cafe alſo required a
pofitive precept, the lining being held by
*This is purgatory, where-
of he ſpeaks more particularly
hereafter; but here, only to
ſhew how ſcripture was per-
verted to prove it, which was
done, by giving equal autho-
rity with the canon to apocry-
pha, called here a codicil an-
nexed.
It is likely the author, in
every one of thefe changes
in the brother's dreffes, refers
to fome particular error in the
church of Rome, though it is
not eaſy, I think, to apply
them all: but by this of flame-
coloured fattin, is manifeftly
intended purgatory; by gold-
lace may perhaps be under-
ftood, the lofty ornaments and
plate in the churches; the
Shoulder-knots and filver fringe
are not fo obvious, at leaſt to
me; but the Indian figures of
men, women, and children,
plainly relate to the pictures in
the Romish churches, of God
like an old man, of the virgin
Mary, and our Saviour as a
child.
orthodox
A TALE OF A TUB.
81
orthodox writers to be of the effence of
the coat. After long ſearch they could fix
upon nothing to the matter in hand, except
a fhort advice of their father in the will *
to take care of fire, and put out their
candles before they went to fleep. This,
though a good deal for the purpoſe, and
helping very far towards felf-conviction,
yet not ſeeming wholly of force to eſta-
bliſh a command; (being refolved to
avoid farther ſcruple, as well as future oc-
cafion for fcandal,) fays he that was the
fcholar, I remember to have read in wills
of a codicil annexed, which is indeed a part
of the will, and what it contains hath equal
authority with the reft. Now, I have been
confidering of this fame will here before us,
and I cannot reckon it to be compleat for
want of fuch a codicil: I will therefore faften
one in its proper place very dextrously; I
have had it by me fome time; it was written
by a dog-keeper of my grand father's,
and talks a great deal, as good luck would
have it, of this very flame-coloured fatin.
* That is, to take care of
hell; and, in order to do that,
to fubdue and extinguifh their
lufts.
VOL. I.
I believe this refers to
that part of the apocrypha,
where mention is made of
Tobit and his dog.
Ġ
The
82
A TALE OF A TU B.
The project was immediately approved
by the other two; an old parchment
ſcrowl was tagged on according to art in
the form of a codicil annexed, and the
fatin bought and worn.
Next winter a player, hired for the pur-
poſe by the corporation of fringe-makers,
acted his part in a new comedy all covered
with * filver fringe, and according to the
laudable cuſtom gave rife to that faſhion.
Upon which the brothers confulting their
father's will, to their great aſtoniſhment
found theſe words; item, I charge and
command my faid three fons to wear no fort
of filver fringe upon or about their faid coats,
&c. with a penalty, in caſe of diſobedience,
too long here to infert. However, after
ſome pauſe the brother ſo often mentioned
for his erudition, who was well ſkilled in
criticiſms, had found in a certain author,
which he faid fhould be nameless, that
the fame word, which in the will is called
fringe, does alfo fignify a broom-flick +:
*This is certainly the far-
ther introducing the pomps of
habit and ornament.
+ The next fubject of our
author's wit, is the gloffes and
interpretations of fcripture,
very many abfurd ones of
which are allowed in the moft
authentic books of the church
of Rome. W. Wotton.
and
A TALE OF A TUB.
83
and doubtlefs ought to have the fame in-
terpretation in this paragraph. This ano-
ther of the brothers difliked, becauſe of
that epithet filver, which could not, he
humbly conceived, in propriety of ſpeech
be reaſonably applied to a broom-ftick: but
it was replied upon him, that this epithet
was underſtood in a mythological and al-
legorical fenfe. However, he objected a-
gain, why their father fhould forbid them
to wear a broom-ſtick on their coats, a cau-
tion that feemed unnatural and imper-
tinent; upon which he was taken
up fhort,
as one that ſpoke irreverently of a mystery,
which doubtleſs was very uſeful and figni-
ficant, but ought not to be over-curiouſly
pried into, or nicely reaſoned upon. And
in fhort, their father's authority being now
confiderably funk, this expedient was al-
lowed to ferve as a lawful difpenfation for
wearing their full proportion of filver fringe.
A while after was revived an old fa-
fhion, long antiquated, of embroidery with
* Indian figures of men, women, and
* The images of faints, the
bleffed virgin, and our Saviour
an infant.
Ibid. Images in the church
G
of Rome give him but too fair
a handle, the brothers remem-
bered, &c. The allegory here
is direct. W. Wotton.
2
children.
84
A TALE OF A TUB.
children. Here they remembered but too
well, how their father had always abhor-
red this faſhion; that he made feveral
paragraphs on purpoſe, importing his ut-
ter deteftation of it, and beftowing his
everlaſting curſe to his fons, whenever
they ſhould wear it. For all this, in a few
days they appeared higher in the faſhion
than any body elſe in the town. But they
folved the matter by ſaying, that theſe
figures were not at all the ſame with thoſe,
that were formerly worn, and were meant
in the will. Befides, they did not wear
them in the ſenſe, as forbidden by their
father; but as they were a commendable
cuftom, and of great ufe to the public.
That theſe rigorous claufes in the will did
therefore require fome allowance, and a
favourable interpretation, and ought to be
underſtood cum grano falis.
4
But faſhions perpetually altering in that
age, the ſcholaſtic brother grew weary
of
ſearching farther evafions, and folving
everlaſting contradictions. Refolved there-
fore at all hazards to comply with the
modes of the world; they concerted mat-
ters together, and agreed unanimouſly to
lock
A TALE OF A TUB.
85
*
?
lock up their father's will in a ſtrong
box, brought out of Greece or Italy, I have
forgotten which, and trouble themſelves
no farther to examine it, but only refer
to its authority whenever they thought fit.
In confequence whereof, a while after it
grew a general mode to wear an infinite
number of points, moft of them tagged
with filver: upon which, the ſcholar pro-
nounced + ex cathedra, that points were
abfolutely jure paterno, as they might very
well remember. It is true indeed, the
faſhion preſcribed fomewhat more than
were directly named in the will; however,
that they, as heirs general of their father,
had power to make and add certain clauſes
for public emolument, though not dedu-
*The papifts formerly for-
bad the people the uſe of fcrip-
ture in a vulgar tongue, Peter
therefore locks up his father's
will in a strong box, brought
out of Greece or Italy: thefe
countries are named, becauſe
the New Testament is written in
Greek; and the vulgar Latin,
which is the authentic edition
of the bible in the church of
Rome, is in the language of
ld Italy. W. Wotton.
†The popes, in their de-
cretals and bulls, have given
their fanction to very many
gainful doctrines, which are
now received in the church of
Rome, that are not mentioned
in fcripture, and are unknown
to the primitive church: Peter,
accordingly, pronounces ex
cathedra, that points tagged
with filver were abfolutely jure
paterno; and fo they wore
then, in great numbers. W.
Wotton.
G 3
cible,
8.6
A TALE OF A TU B.
cible, totidem verbis, from the letter of
the will, or elſe multa abfurda fequerentur.
This was underſtood for canonical, and
therefore on the following Sunday they
came to church all covered with points.
The learned brother ſo often mentioned
was reckoned the beft fcholar in all that,
or the next ſtreet to it; infomuch as,
having run ſomething behind-hand in the
world, he obtained the favour of a † cer-
tain lord, to receive him into his houſe,
and to teach his children. A while after
the lord died, and he, by long practice
of his father's will, found the way of con-
triving a deed of conveyance of that houſe
to himſelf, and his heirs: upon which he
took poſſeſſion, turned the young ſquires
out, and received his brothers in their
ftead*,
+ This was Conftantine the
Great, from whom the popes
pretend a donation of St. Pe-
ter's patrimony, which they
have been never able to pro-
duce.
* Ibid. The bishops of
Rome enjoyed their privileges
in Rome at first by the favour
of emperors, whom at laft they
fhut out of their own capital
city, and then forged a dona-
tion from Conftantine the Great,
the better to juſtify what they
did. In imitation of this, Pe-
ter, having run fomething be-
bind-hand in the world, obtain-
ed leave of a certain lord, &c.
W. Wotton.
SECT
CONCERNING CRITICS. 87
SECT. III.
A digreſſion concerning critics.
LTOUGH I have been hitherto as
cautious as I could, upon all occa-
fions, moſt nicely to follow the rules and
methods of writing laid down by the ex-
ample of our illuftrious moderns; yet has
the unhappy fhortnefs of my memory led
me into an error, from which I muſt ex-
tricate myſelf, before I can decently pur-
fue my principal fubject. I confefs with
fhame, it was an unpardonable omiffion
to proceed fo far as I have already done,
before I had performed the due diſcourſes,
expoftulatory, fupplicatory, or depreca-
tory, with my good lords the critics. To-
wards fome atonement for this grievous
neglect, I do here make humbly bold to
prefent them with a fhort account of them-
ſelves and their art, by looking into the
original and pedigree of the word, as it is
generally underſtood among us, and very
briefly confidering the antient and preſent
ftate thereof.
(
G 4
By
88
A DIGRESSION
By the word critic, at this day fo fre-
quent in all converfations, there have
fometimes been diſtinguiſhed three very
different ſpecies of mortal men, accord-
ing as I have read in antient books and
pamphlets. For firſt by this term was un-
derſtood fuch perſons as invented or drew
up rules for themſelves and the world, by
obſerving which a careful reader might be
able to pronounce upon the productions of
the learned, form his taſte to a true reliſh
of the fublime and the admirable, and di-
vide every beauty of matter or of ftile from
the corruption that apes it: in their com-
mon peruſal of books, fingling out the
errors and defects, the naufeous, the ful-
fome, the dull and the impertinent, with
the caution of a man that walks through
Edinborough ſtreets in a morning, who is
indeed as careful as he can to watch dili-
gently, and ſpy out the filth in his way;
not that he is curious to obferve the colour
and complexion of the ordure, or take its
dimenfions, much lefs to be paddling in,
or tafting it; but only with a deſign to
come out as cleanly as he may. Thefe
men feem, though very erroneously, to
have
CONCERNING CRITICS. 89
have underſtood the appellation of critic
in a literal ſenſe; that one principal part
of his office was to praife and acquit; and
that a critic, who ſets up to read only for an
occafion of cenfure and reproof, is a crea-
ture as barbarous as a judge, who ſhould
take up a reſolution to hang all men, that
came before him upon a tryal.
Again, by the word critic have been
meant, the reſtorers of antient learning
from the worms, and graves, and duft of
manuſcripts.
Now the races of thoſe two have been
for ſome ages utterly extinct; and befides,
to diſcourſe any farther of them would
not be at all to my purpoſe.
The third, and nobleft fort is that of the
TRUE CRITIC, whoſe original is the moſt
antient of all. Every true critic is a hero
born, deſcending in a direct line from a
celeftial ftem by Momus and Hybris, who
begat Zoilus, who begat Tigellius, who
begat Etcætera the elder, who begat Bent-
ley, and Rymer, and Wotton, and Per-
rault, and Dennis, who begat Etcætera
the younger.
And theſe are the critics, from whom
the
90
A DIGRESSION
the commonwealth of learning has in all
ages received fuch immenſe benefits, that
the gratitude of their admirers placed their
origine in heaven, among thoſe of Her-
cules, Thefeus, Perfeus, and other great
defervers of mankind. But heroic virtue
itſelf hath not been exempt from the ob-
loquy of evil tongues. For it hath been
objected, that thoſe antient heroes, famous
for their combating ſo many giants, and
dragons, and robbers, were in their own
perfons a greater nuifance to mankind,
than any of thoſe monſters they fubdued;
and therefore, to render their obligations
more compleat, when all other vermin
were deſtroyed, ſhould in conſcience have
concluded with the fame juftice upon
themſelves. Hercules moft generously did,
and hath upon that ſcore procured to him-
felf more temples and votaries, than the
beſt of his fellows. For thefe reaſons, I
ſuppoſe, it is, why ſome have conceived,
it would be very expedient for the public
good of learning, that every true critic, as
foon as he had finiſhed his taſk affigned,
fhould immediately deliver himſelf up to
ratfbane, or hemp, or from fome conve-
nient
CONCERNING CRITICS. 91
nient altitude; and that no man's preten-
fions to fo illuftrious a character fhould
by any means be received, before that
operation were performed.
Now, from this heavenly defcent of cri-
ticiſm, and the cloſe analogy it bears to
heroic virtue, it is eaſy to affign the proper
employment of atrue antient genuine critic;
which is, to travel through this vaft world
of writings; to purſue and hunt thoſe
monftrous faults bred within them; to
drag out the lurking errors, like Cacus
from his den; to multiply them like Hy-
dra's heads; and rake them together like
Augeas's dung: or elfe drive away a fort
of dangerous fowl, who have a perverfe in-
clination to plunder the beſt branches of
the tree of knowledge, like thofe ftympha-
lian birds that eat up the fruit.
Theſe reaſonings will furniſh us with
an adequate definition of a true critic;
that, he is diſcoverer and collector of wri-
ters faults; which may be farther put be-
yond diſpute by the following demonftra-
tion: that whoever will examine the writ-
ings in all kinds, wherewith this antient
fect has honoured the world, fhall im-
mediately
92
A DIGRESSION
}
mediately find, from the whole thread
and tenour of them, that the ideas of the
authors have been altogether converfant,
and taken up with the faults and blemiſhes
and overfights, and miſtakes of other
writers; and, let the fubject treated on be
whatever it will, their imaginations are
fo intirely poffeffed and replete with the
defects of other
pens, that the
very quint-
effence of what is bad does of neceffity
diftil into their own; by which means the
whole appears to be nothing elſe but an
abſtract of the criticiſms themſelves have
made.
Having thus briefly confidered the ori-
ginal and office of a critic, as the word
is underſtood in its moſt noble and univer-
fal
acceptation, I proceed to refute the ob-
jections of thoſe, who argue from the filence
and pretermiffion of authors; by which they
pretend to prove, that the very art of cri-
ticiſm, as now exercifed, and by me ex-
plained, is wholly modern; and confe-
quently, that the critics of Great-Britain
and France have no title to an original ſo
antient and illuftrious as I have deduced.
Now, if I can clearly make out on the
contrary,
1
CONCERNING CRITICS.
93
:
:
contrary, that the antient writers have par-
ticularly deſcribed both the perſon and the
office of a true critic, agreeable to the
definition laid down by me; their grand
objection, from the filence of authors, will
fall to the ground.
I confefs to have for a long time born
a part in this general error; from which
I fhould never have acquitted myſelf, but
through the aſſiſtance of our noble mo-
derns; whoſe moſt edifying volumes I turn
indefatigably over night and day for the
improvement of my mind, and the good
of my country: thefe have with unweari-
ed pains made many uſeful ſearches into
the weak fides of the antients, and given
us a comprehenfive lift of them. * Beſides,
they have proved beyond contradiction,
that the very fineſt things delivered of old,
have been long fince invented, and brought
to light by much later pens; and that the
nobleſt diſcoveries thoſe antients ever made
of art or nature, have all been produced
by the tranſcending genius of the preſent
age. Which clearly fhews, how little
merit thoſe antients can juſtly pretend to;
* See Wotton of antient and modern learning.
and
94
A DIGRESSION
2
and takes off that blind admiration paid
them by men in a corner, who have the
unhappineſs of converfing too little with
prefent things. Reflecting maturely upon
all this, and taking in the whole compafs
of human nature, I eafily concluded, that
theſe antients, highly fenfible of their ma-
ny imperfections, muft needs have endea-
voured from fome paffages in their works
to obviate, ſoften, or divert the cenforious
reader, by fatyr, or panegyric upon the
critics, in imitation of their masters, the
moderns. Now, in the common-places of
+ both theſe, I was plentifully inftructed,
by a long courſe of uſeful ftudy in pre-
faces and prologues; and therefore imme-
diately refolved to try what I could difco-
ver of either by a diligent perufal of the
moſt antient writers, and eſpecially thoſe
who treated of the earlieft times. Here
I found to my great furprize, that al-
though they all entered, upon occafion,
into particular deſcriptions of the true
critic, according as they were governed
by their fears or their hopes; yet whatever
they touched of that kind, was with abun-
+ Satyr, and panegyric upon critics.
dance
CONCERNING CRITICS.
95
dance of caution, adventuring no farther
than mythology and hieroglyphic. This, I
fuppofe, gave ground to fuperficial readers
for urging the filence of authors againſt
the antiquity of the true critic, though
the types are ſo appofite, and the applica-
tions ſo neceffary and natural, that it is
not eaſy to conceive, how any reader of
a modern eye and tafte could overlook them.
I ſhall venture from a great number to
produce a few, which, I am very confi-
dent, will put this queftion beyond difpute.
It well deferves confidering, that theſe
antient writers, in treating ænigmatically
upon the ſubject, have generally fixed
upon the very fame hieroglyph, varying
only the ſtory, according to their affect-
ions, or their wit. For firft
For firft; Paufanias
is of opinion, that the perfection of writ-
ing correct was intirely owing to the in-
ftitution of critics; and, that he can pof-
fibly mean no other than the true critic,
is, I think, manifeſt enough from the fol-
lowing deſcription. He fays, they were
a race of men, who delighted to nibble at
the fuperfluities, and excrefcencies of books;
which the learned at length obferving, took
warning
96
A DIGRESSION
warning of their own accord to lop the
luxuriant, the rotten, the dead, the ſap-
lefs, and the overgrown branches from their
works. But now, all this he cunningly
fhades under the following allegory; that
the* Nauplians in Argos learned the art
of pruning their vines by obferving, that,
when an ASS had browsed upon one of them,
it thrived the better, and bore fairer fruit.
But + Herodotus, holding the very fame
hieroglyph, fpeaks much plainer, and al-
moſt in terminis. He hath been fo bold as
to tax the true critics of ignorance and
malice; telling us openly, for I think
nothing can be plainer, that in the western
part of Libya there were ASSES with
horns: upon which relation ‡ Ctefias yet
refines, mentioning the very fame animal
about India, adding, that whereas all other
ASSES wanted a gall, thefe horned ones
were fo redundant in that part, that their
flesh was not to be eaten, becauſe of its ex-
treme bitterneſs.
Now, the reaſon why thoſe antient
writers treated this fubject only by types
* Lib.
+ Lib. 4.
хес
↑ Vide excerpta ex eo apud
Photium.
and
CONCERNING CRITICS. 97
and figures, was, becauſe they durft not
make open attacks againſt a part fo po-
tent and terrible, as the critics of thofe
ages were; whofe very voice was fo dread-
ful, that a legion of authors would trem-
ble, and drop their pens at the found; for
fo Herodotus tells us exprefly in another
* place, how a vast army of Scythians was
put to flight in a panic terror by the bray-
ing of an ASS. From hence it is conjec-
tured by certain profound philologers, that
the great awe and reverence paid to a true
critic by the writers of Britain have been
derived to us from thoſe our Scythian an-
ceſtors. In fhort, this dread was fo uni-
verfal, that in proceſs of time thoſe au-
thors, who had a mind to publiſh their
fentiments more freely, in deſcribing the
true critics of their ſeveral ages were forced
to leave off the ufe of the former biero-
glyph, as too nearly approaching the proto-
type, and invented other terms inſtead
thereof, that were more cautious and my-
ſtical: fo + Diodorus, fpeaking to the fame
purpoſe, ventures no farther, than to ſay,
that in the mountains of Helicon, there
* Lib. 4.
VOL. I.
H
+ Lib.
grows
98
A DIGRESSION
grows a certain weed, which bears a flower
of fo damned a fcent, as to poison those who
offer to Smell it. Lucretius gives exactly
the fame relation;
*
Eft etiam in magnis Heliconis monti-
bus arbos,
Floris odore hominem tetro confueta ne-
Lib. 6.
care.
But Ctefias, whom we lately quoted,
hath been a great deal bolder; he had
been uſed with much ſeverity by the true
critics of his own age, and therefore could
not forbear to leave behind him, at leaſt,
one deep mark of his vengeance againſt
the whole tribe. His meaning is ſo near
the furface, that I wonder how it poffibly
came to be overlooked by thofe, who deny
the antiquity of true critics. For, pre-
tending to make a deſcription of many
ſtrange animals about India, he hath fet
down theſe remarkable words: among ft
the reſt, ſays he, there is a ferpent that
wants teeth, and confequently cannot bite;
but if its vomit, to which it is much ad-
*Near Helicon, and round the learned hill,
Grow trees, whofe bloffoms with their odour kill.
dicted,
CONCERNING CRITICS. 99
dicted, happens to fall upon any thing, a
certain rottenness or corruption enfues
theſe ſerpents are generally found among
the mountains, where jewels grow, and
they frequently emit a poiſonous juice;
whereof whoever drinks, that perfon's brains
fly out of his noftrils.
There was alſo among the antients a
fort of critics, not diſtinguiſhed in fpecie
from the former, but in growth or degree,
who ſeem to have been only the tyro's or
junior ſcholars; yet, becauſe of their dif-
fering employments, they are frequently
mentioned as a fect by themſelves. The
ufual exerciſe of theſe younger ftudents
was to attend conſtantly at theatres, and
learn to fpy out the worst parts of the play,
whereof they were obliged carefully to take
note, and render a rational account to
their tutors. Fleſhed at theſe ſmaller
ſports, like young wolves, they grew up
in time to be nimble and ftrong enough
for hunting down large game. For it hath
been obferved, both among antients and
moderns, that a true critic hath one qua-
lity in common with a whore and an al-
derman, never to change his title or his
H 2
nature;
100
A DIGRESSION
{
nature
that a grey critic has been cer
tainly a green one, the perfections and
acquirements of his age being only the
improved talents of his youth; like hemp,
which fome naturalifts inform us is bad for
fuffocations, though taken but in the ſeed. I
eſteem the invention, or at leaſt the re-
finement of prologues to have been owing
to theſe younger proficients, of whom
Terence makes frequent and honourable
mention, under the name of Malevoli.
Now, it is certain, the inftitution of the
true critics was of abfolute neceffity to
the commonwealth of learning. For all
human actions feem to be divided, like
Themiftocles and his company; one man
can fiddle, and another can make a ſmall
town a great city; and he, that cannot do
either one or the other, deferves to be
kicked out of the creation. The avoiding
of which penalty has doubtleſs given the
firft birth to the nation of critics, and
withal, an occafion for their fecret detrac-
tors to report, that a true critic is a fort
of mechanic, fet up with a ſtock and tools
for his trade at as little expence as a taylor;
and that there is much analogy between
the
CONCERNING CRITICS. 1oI
ΙΟΥ
the utenfils and abilities of both: that the
taylor's hell is the type of a critic's common-
place-book, and his wit and learning held
forth by the goofe: that it requires at leaft
as many of theſe to the making up of one
ſcholar, as of the others to the compofiti-
on of a man: that the valour of both is
equal, and their weapons near of a fize.
Much may be ſaid in anſwer to thoſe in-
vidious reflections; and I can pofitively
affirm the firft to be a falfhood: for on
the contrary, nothing is more certain, than
that it requires greater layings out, to be
free of the critic's company, than of any
other you can name. For, as to be a
true beggar, it will coſt the richeſt candi-
date every groat he is worth; fo, before
one can commence a true critic, it will
coft a man all the good qualities of his
mind; which perhaps for a lefs purchaſe
would be thought but an indifferent bar-
gain.
Having thus amply proved the anti-
quity of criticism, and defcribed the pri-
mitive ftate of it; I fhall now examine
the preſent condition of this empire, and
ſhew how well it agrees with its antient
H 3
ſelf.
1
102
A DIGRESSION
f
+
felf. * A certain author, whoſe works have
many ages fince been intirely loft, does,
in his fifth book, and eighth chapter, ſay
of critics, that their writings are the mirrors
of learning. This I underſtand in a li-
teral fenfe, and ſuppoſe our author muſt
mean, that whoever defigns to be a per-
fect writer, muſt inſpect into the books of
critics, and correct his invention there, as
in a mirror. Now, whoever confiders,
that the mirrors of the antients were made
of brass and fine mercurio, may prefently
apply the two principal qualifications of a
true modern critic, and confequently muſt
needs conclude, that theſe have always
been, and muſt be for ever the fame. For,
brass is an emblem of duration, and, when
it is ſkilfully burniſhed, will caft reflec-
tions from its own fuperficies without any
affiftance of mercury from behind.
the other talents of a critic will not re-
quire a particular mention, being includ-
ed, or eafily reducible to thefe. How-
ever, I fhall conclude with three maxims,
which may ferve both as characteriſtics to
All
A quotation after the Bentley's differtation, &c.
panner of a great author. Vide
diftinguiſh
CONCERNING CRITICS. 103
diſtinguiſh a true modern critic from a pre-
tender, and will be alfo of admirable uſe
to thofe worthy ſpirits, who engage in ſo
ufeful and honourable an art.
The firſt is, that criticism, contrary to
all other faculties of the intellect, is ever
held the trueft and beft, when it is the
very first refult of the critic's mind: as
fowlers reckon the firſt aim for the ſureſt,
and feldom fail of miffing the mark, if
they ſtay for a ſecond.
Secondly, the true critics are known by
their talent of fwarming about the nobleft
writers, to which they are carried meerly
by inſtinct, as a rat to the beſt cheeſe, or
a wafp to the faireft fruit. So, when the
king is on horfeback, he is fure to be the
dirtieft perſon of the company;
and they
that make their court beft, are fuch as be-
Spatter him moſt.
Laſtly, a true critic in the perufal of
book is like a dog at a feaft, whoſe
thoughts and ſtomach are wholly ſet upon
what guests fling away, and confequently
is apt to fnarl moft, when there are the
fewest bones.
H 4
Thus
104
A TALE OF A TU B.
Thus much, I think, is fufficient to
ferve by way of addreſs to my patrons, the
true modern critics, and may very well
atone for my paft filence, as well as that
which I am like to obſerve for the future.
I hope I have deſerved fo well of their
whole body, as to meet with generous and
tender ufage from their hands. Supported
by which expectation, I go on boldly to
purſue thoſe adventures already ſo happily
begun.
SECT. IV.
A TALE OF A TUB.
HAVE now with much pains and
ſtudy conducted the reader to a period,
where he muſt expect to hear of great
revolutions. For no fooner had our learn-
ed brother, fo often mentioned, got a warm
houſe of his own over his head, than he
began to look big, and take mightily upon
him; infomuch that, unleſs the gentle
reader out of his great candour will pleaſe
a little to exalt his idea, I am afraid he
will henceforth hardly know the hero of
the play, when he happens to meet him;
his
A TALE OF A TU B.
105
his part, his dreſs, and his mien being fo
much altered.
He told his brothers, he would have
them to know that he was their elder,
and confequently his father's fole heir;
nay, a while after he would not allow them
to call him brother, but Mr. PETER;
and then he muſt be ſtyled father Peter;
and fometimes, my lord PETER. To
fupport this grandeur, which he foon be-
gan to confider could not be maintained
without a better fonde, than what he was
born to; after much thought, he caft about
at laſt to turn projector and virtuofo, where-
in he fo well fucceeded, that many famous
diſcoveries, projects and machines, which
bear great vogue and practice at preſent
in the world, are owing intirely to lord
PETER's invention. I will deduce the
beft account I have been able to collect
of the chief amongſt them, without con-
fidering much the order they came out in;
becauſe, I think, authors are not well a-
greed as to that point.
I hope, when this treatife of mine fhall
be tranflated into foreign languages (as I
may without vanity affirm, that the labour
of
106 A TALE OF A TUB.
of collecting, the faithfulneſs in recount-
ing, and the great uſefulneſs of the mat-
ter to the public, will amply deferve that
juſtice) that the worthy members of the
feveral academies abroad, eſpecially thoſe
of France and Italy, will favourably ac-
cept theſe humble offers for the advance-
ment of univerſal knowledge. I do alſo
advertiſe the moſt reverend fathers the
Eaſtern miffionaries, that I have, purely
for their fakes, made uſe of ſuch words
and phrafes, as will beft admit an eaſy
turn into any of the oriental languages,
eſpecially the Chineſe. And fo I proceed
with great content of mind upon reflect-
ing, how much emolument this whole
globe of the earth is like to reap by my
labours.
The firſt undertaking of lord Peter was
to purchaſe a * large continent, lately faid
to have been diſcovered in terra auftralis
incognita. This tract of land he bought
at a very great penny-worth from the dif
coverers themſelves (though ſome pretend-
ed to doubt whether they had ever been
there) and then retailed it into ſeveral can-
* That is Purgatory.
tons
A TALE OF A TUB.
107
tons to certain dealers, who carried over
colonies, but were all ſhipwrecked in the
voyage. Upon which lord Peter fold the
faid continent to other cuſtomers again,
and again, and again, and again, with
the fame fuccefs.
The ſecond project I fhall mention, was
his + fovereign remedy for the worms, e-
ſpecially thoſe in the Spleen. The patient
was to eat nothing after fupper for three
nights: as ſoon as he went to bed, he was
carefully to lie on one fide, and when he
grew weary, to turn upon the other: he
muſt alſo duly confine his two eyes to the
fame object; and by no means break wind
at both ends together, without manifeſt
occafion. Theſe preſcriptions diligently ob-
ferved, the worms would void infenfibly by
perſpiration, aſcending through the brain.
A third invention was the erecting of
all
a || whispering-office for the public good
+ Penance and abfolution are
plaid upon under the notion of
a fovereign remedy for the
quorms, eſpecially in the fpleen,
which by obſerving Peter's
prefcription would void infen-
fibly by perſpiration, afcend-
ing through the brain, &c.
W. Wotton.
and
Here the author ridicules
the penances of the church of
Rome, which may be made as
cafy to the finner as he pleaſes,
provided he will pay for them
accordingly.
|| By his whispering-office,
for
108
A TALE OF A TUB.
and eaſe of all fuch as are hypochondria-
cal, or troubled with the cholic; as mid-
wives, ſmall politicians, friends fallen out,
repeating poets, lovers happy or in deſpair,
bawds, privy-counſellors, pages, parafites
and buffoons: in fhort, of all fuch as are
in danger of burſting with too much wind.
An afs's head was placed fo conveniently,
that the party affected might eafily with
his mouth accoft either of the animal's
ears; to which he was to apply cloſe for
a certain ſpace, and by a fugitive faculty,
peculiar to the ears of that animal, receive
immediate benefit either by eructation, or
expiration, or evomitation.
*
Another very beneficial project of lord
Peter's was an office of infurance for to-
bacco-pipes, martyrs of the modern zeal;
volumes of poetry, fhadows,
and rivers: that thefe, nor any of theſe,
ſhall receive damage by fire. From whence
our friendly focieties may plainly find them-
felves to be only tranſcribers from this ori-
for the relief of eves-droppers,
phyficians, bawds, and privy-
counſellors, he ridicules auri-
cular confeffion; and the prieſt
who takes it, is defcribed by
the afs's head. W. Wotton.
* This I take to be the
office of indulgences, the grofs
abufes whereof firft gave occa-
fion for the reformation.
ginal;
A TALE OF A TU B.
109
ginal; though the one and the other have
been of great bencfit to the undertakers,
as well as of equal to the public.
Lord PETER was alſo held the origi-
nal author of † puppets and raree-ſhows;
the great uſefulneſs whereof being fo ge-
nerally known, I fhall not enlarge farther
upon this particular.
But another diſcovery, for which he
was much renowned, was his famous uni-
verfal‡ pickle. For having remarked how
your common pickle, in uſe among houſe-
wives, was of no farther benefit than to
preſerve dead fleſh, and certain kinds of
vegetables; Peter, with great coft as well
as art, had contrived a pickle proper for
houſes, gardens, towns, men, women,
children, and cattle; wherein he could
preſerve them as found as infects in amber.
Now, this pickle to the tafte, the ſmell,
and the fight appeared exactly the fame,
with what is in common fervice for beef,
+ I believe are the monke-
ries and ridiculous proceffions,
&c. among the papifts.
Holy water, he calls an
univerfal pickle, to preferve
houſes, gardens, towns, men,
women, children, and cattle,
wherein he could preſerve
them as found as infects in
amber. W. Wotton.
This is eafily underſtood
to be holy water, compofed
of the fame ingredients with
many other pickles.
and
110 A TALE OF A TUB.
and butter, and herrings, and has been
often that way applied with great fuc-
ceſs but for its many fovereign virtues
was a quite different thing. For Peter
would put in a certain quantity of his *
powder pimperlimpimp, after which it never
failed of fuccefs. The operation was per-
formed by Spargefaction in a proper
time of the moon. The patient, who
was to be pickled, if it were a houſe, would
infallibly be preſerved from all ſpiders, rats
and weazels; if the party affected were a
dog, he fhould be exempt from mange,
and madneſs, and hunger. It alfo infal-
libly took away all fcabs and lice, and
fcalled heads from children, never hinder-
ing the patient from any duty, either at
bed or board.
But of all Peter's rarities, he moſt va-
lued a certain ſet of † bulls, whoſe race
* And becauſe holy water
differs only in confecration
from common water, there-
fore he tells us that his pickle.
by the powder of pimperlim-
pimp receives new virtues,
though it differs not in fight
nor fmell from the common
pickles, which preferve beef,
was
and butter, and herrings. W
Wotton.
+ Sprinkling.
The papal bulls are ridi-
culed by name, fo that here
we are at no loſs for the au-
thor's meaning. W. Wotton.
Ibid. Here the author has
kept the name, and means the
pope's
A TALE OF A TUB.
111
was by great fortune preſerved in a lineal
deſcent from thoſe, that guarded the gold-
en-fleece. Though fome who pretended
to obſerve them curioufly, doubted the
breed had not been kept intirely chaſte;
becauſe they had degenerated from their
anceſtors in fome qualities, and had ac-
quired others very extraordinary, but a
foreign mixture. The bulls of Colchis are
recorded to have brazen feet; but whether
it happened by ill paſture and running, by
an allay from intervention of other parents,
from ſtolen intrigues; whether a weak-
neſs in their progenitors had impaired the
feminal virtue, or by a decline neceſſary
through a long courfe of time, the origi-
nals of nature being depraved in theſe latter
finful ages of the world; whatever was
the cauſe, it is certain, that lord Peter's
bulls were extremely vitiated by the ruſt
of time in the metal of their feet, which
was now funk into common lead. How-
ever, the terrible roaring, peculiar to their
lineage, was preſerved; as likewife that
pope's bulls, or rather his ful-
minations, and excommunica-
tions of heretical princes, all
figned with lead and the feal
of the fisherman, and there-
fore faid to have leaden feet
and fishes tails.
faculty
I 12
A TALE OF A TU B.
faculty of breathing out fire from their
noftrils; which notwithſtanding many of
their detractors took to be a feat of art;
to be nothing fo terrible as it appeared;
proceeding only from their uſual courſe
of diet, which was of* fquibs and crack-
ers. However, they had two peculiar
marks, which extremely diftinguiſhed
them from the bulls of Jafon, and which
I have not met together in the deſcrip-
tion of any other monſter, befide that in
Horace:
Varias inducere plumas;
and
Atrum definit in piſcem.
For theſe had fiſhes tails, yet upon occafion
could out-fly any bird in the air. Peter
put theſe bulls upon ſeveral employs. Some-
times he would ſet them a roaring to fright
+ naughty boys, and make them quiet.
Sometimes he would fend them out upon
errands of great importance; where it is
wonderful to recount, and perhaps the
* Theſe are the fulmina-
tions of the pope, threatening
hell and damnation to thofe
princes who offend him.
+ That is, kings who in-
curred his difpleaſure.
cautious
A TALE OF A TUB.
113
cautious reader may think much to believe
it. An appetitus fenfibilis deriving itſelf
through the whole family from their noble
anceſtors, guardians of the golden-fleece,
they continued fo extremely fond of gold,
that if Peter fent them abroad, though it
were only upon a compliment, they would
roar, and Spit, and belch, and pifs, and
fart, and fnivel out fire, and keep a per-
petual coil, till you flung them a bit of
gold; but then, pulveris exigui jactu, they
would grow calm and quiet as lambs. In
fhort, whether by fecret connivance, or
encouragement from their maſter, or out
of their own liquoriſh affection to gold, or
both; it is certain they were no better than
a fort of ſturdy, ſwaggering beggars; and,
where they could not prevail to get an
alms, would make women miſcarry, and
children fall into fits, who to this very day
ufually call ſprights and hobgoblins by
the name of bull-beggars. They grew at
laſt ſo very troublefome to the neighbour-
hood, that fome gentlemen of the north-
weft got a parcel of right English bull-dogs,
and baited them fo terribly, that they felt
it ever after.
VOL. I.
I
I muſt
114
A TALE OF A TUB.
I muſt needs mention one more of lord
Peter's projects, which was very extraordi-
nary, and diſcovered him to be maſter of
a high reach, and profound invention.
Whenever it happened, that any rogue of
Newgate was condemned to be hanged,
Peter would offer him a pardon for a cer-
tain fum of money, which when the poor
caitiff had made all fhifts to fcrape up,
and fend, his lordship would return a †
piece of paper in this form.
To
O all mayors, fheriffs, jaylors, confta-
bles, bayliffs, hangmen, &c. Whereas
we are informed, that A. B. remains in the
hands of you, or ſome of you, under the
fentence of death. We will and command
you upon fight hereof to let the faid priſoner
depart to his own habitation, whether he
fands condemned for murder, fodomy, rape,
facrilege, inceft, treafon, blafphemy, &c.
for which this fhall be your fufficient war-
rant: and if you fail hereof, G-d-mn
+ This is a copy of a gene-
ral pardon, figned fervus fer-
vorum.
mortis, and the tax camera
apoftolica, are jeſted upon in
emperor Peter's letter. W.
Ibid. Abfolution in articulo Wotton.
1
you
A TALE OF A TU B.
115
you and yours to all eternity. And fo we
bid you heartily farewel
Your moſt humble
man's man,
emperor PETER.
The wretches, trufting to this, loft their
lives and money too.
I defire of thofe, whom the learned
among pofterity will appoint for com-
mentators upon this elaborate treatiſe, that
they will proceed with great caution
upon certain dark points, wherein all,
who are not verè adepti, may be in dan-
ger to form raſh and hafty conclufions,
eſpecially in fome myſterious paragraphs,
where certain arcana are joined for brevity
fake, which in the operation muſt be di-
vided. And I am certain, that future
fons of art will return large thanks to my
memory for fo grateful, fo uſeful an innu-
endo.
It will be no difficult part to perfuade
the reader, that ſo many worthy diſcoveries
met with great fuccefs in the world; though
I may juſtly affure him, that I have related
I 2
much
116 A TALE OF A TU B.
much the ſmalleſt number; my defign
having been only to fingle out fuch as will
be of moſt benefit for public imitation, or
which beſt ſerved to give ſome idea of the
reach and wit of the inventor. And there-
fore it need not be wondered, if by this
time lord Peter was become exceeding
rich: but, alas! he had kept his brain fo
long and fo violently upon the rack, that
at laſt it ſhook itſelf, and began to turn
round for a little eaſe. In fhort, what with
pride, projects and knavery, poor Peter
was grown diſtracted, and conceived the
ftrangeſt imaginations in the world. In
the height of his fits, as it is ufual with
thoſe who run mad out of pride, he would
call himſelf * God Almighty, and fome-
times monarch of the univerfe. I have ſeen
him (ſays my author) take three old + high-
crowned hats, and clap them all on his head,
three ftory high, with a huge bunch of
‡ keys at his girdle, and an angling-rod in
* The pope is not only al-
lowed to be the vicar of Christ,
but by feveral divines is called
God upon earth, and other
blafphemous titles are given
him.
+ The triple crown.
his
The keys of the church.
The church is here taken for
the gate of heaven; for the
keys of heaven are affumed by
the pope in confequence of
what
?
A TALE OF A TU B.
117
his hand. In which guife, whoever went
to take him by the hand in the way of
falutation, Peter with much grace, like
a well educated ſpaniel, would prefent
them with his * foot; and if they refuſed
his civility, then he would raiſe it as
high as their chaps, and give them a
damned kick on the mouth, which hath
ever fince been called a falute. Whoever
walked by without paying him their com-
pliments, having a wonderful ſtrong breath,
he would blow their hats off into the dirt.
Mean time his affairs at home went upfide
down, and his two brothers had a wretch-
ed time; where his firft + boutade was to
kick both their wives one morning out
of doors, and his own too; and in their
ſtead, gave orders to pick up the firſt
three ftrollers could be met with in the
ftreets. A while after he nailed up the
what our Lord faid to Peter.
I will give unto thee the keys of
the kingdom of heaven.
Ibid. The pope's univer-
fal monarchy, and his triple
crown, and fiſher's ring. W,
Wotton.
* Neither does his arrogant
way of requiring men to kifs
his flipper eſcape reflection.
Wotton,
+ This word properly fig-
nifies a fudden jerk, or lafh
of an horſe, when you do not
expect it.
The celibacy of the Romish
clergy is ftruck at in Peter's
beating his own and brothers
wives out of doors.
Wotton.
I 3
W
cellar-
$18 A TALE OF A TUB.
cellar-door; and would not allow his bro→
thers || a drop of drink to their victuals.
Dining one day at an alderman's in the city,
Peter obferved him expatiating, after the
manner of his brethren, in the praiſes of
his firloin of beef. Beef, faid the fage
magiftrate, is the king of meat; beef com-
prebends in it the quintessence of partridge,
and quail, and venison, and pheasant, and
plum-pudding, and cuftard. When Peter
came home, he would needs take the
fancy of cooking up this doctrine into uſe,
and apply the precept, in default of a fir-
loin, to his brown loaf: Bread, fays he,
dear brothers, is the staff of life; in which
bread is contained, inclufivè, the quintef-
fence of beef, mutton, veal, venison, par-
tridge, plum-pudding, and cuftard: and
to render all compleat, there is intermingled
a due quantity of water, whofe crudities are
alfo corrected by yeast or barm, through
which means it becomes a wholesome fer-
mented liquor, diffused through the mafs
of the bread. Upon the ftrength of theſe
ا
The pope's refufing the
cup to the laity, perfuading
them that the blood is con-
tained in the bread, and that
the bread is the real and in-
tire body of Chrift.
conclufions,
A TALE OF A TUB.
119
conclufions, next day at dinner, was the
brown loaf ferved up in all the formality
of a city feaft. Come brothers, faid Peter,
fall to, and Spare not; here is excellent good
mutton; or hold, now my hand is in, I will
help you. At which word, in much cere-
mony, with fork and knife he carves out
two good flices of a loaf, and preſents
each on a plate to his brothers. The el-
der of the two, not fuddenly entering into
lord Peter's conceit, began with very civil
language to examine the myſtery. My
lord, faid he, I doubt, with great fubmiſſi
on, there may be fome mistake. What, ſays
Peter, you are pleaſant; come then, let us
bear this jeft your head is fo big with. None
in the world, my lord; but, unless I am
very much deceived, your lordship was pleaf-
ed a while ago to let fall a word about mut-
ton, and I would be glad to fee it with all
my heart. How, faid Peter, appearing
in great furprize, I do not comprehend this
at all. Upon which, the younger in
terpofing to ſet the buſineſs aright; My
* Tranfubftantiation. Peter
turns his bread into mutton,
and, according to the popifh
doctrine of concomitants, his
wine too, which in his way
he calls palming his damned
crufts upon the brothers for
mutton. W. Wotton.
I 4
lord,
120 A TALE OF A TUB.
lord, faid he, my brother I fuppofe is hun-
gry, and longs for the mutton your lordship
bath promifed us to dinner, Pray, faid
Peter, take me along with you; either you
are both mad, or difpofed to be merrier
than I approve of; if you there do not like
your piece, I will carve you another; though
I ſhould take that to be the choice bit of the
whole fhoulder. What then, my lord, re-
plied the first, it ſeems this is a fhoulder of
mutton all this while. Pray, fir, fays
Peter, eat your victuals, and leave off your
impertinence, if you please, for I am not
difpofed to relish it at prefent: but the o-
ther could not forbear, being over provok-
ed at the affected ſeriouſneſs of Peter's
countenance: By G—, my lord, faid he,
I can only fay, that to my eyes, and fingers,
and teeth, and nofe, it ſeems to be nothing
but a cruft of bread. Upon which the fe-
cond put in his word: I never faw a piece
of mutton in my life fo nearly refembling a
Jlice from a twelve-penny loaf. Look ye,
gentlemen, cries Peter in a rage, to con-
vince you, what a couple of blind, pofitive,
ignorant, wilful puppies you are, I will
ufe but this plain argument; by G—, it is
trues
A TALE OF A TU B.
121
true, good, natural mutton as any in Lea-
denhall market; and G— confound you
both eternally, if you offer to believe otherwife.
Such a thundering proof as this left no
further room for objection; the two un-
believers began to gather and pocket up
their miſtake as haftily as they could.
Why, truly, faid the firft, upon more
mature confideration-Ay, fays the other
interrupting him, now I have thought
better on the thing, your lordship feems to
have a great deal of reafon. Very well,
faid Peter; here, boy, fill me a beer-glafs
of claret; here's to you both with all my
heart. The two brethren, much delight-
ed to ſee him ſo readily appeaſed, returned
their moſt humble thanks, and faid, they
would be glad to pledge his lordſhip. That
you fhall, ſaid Peter; I am not a perſon to
refuſe you any thing that is reafonable; wine,
moderately taken, is a cordial; here is a
glass a piece for you; it is true natural
juice from the grape, none of your damned
vintners brewings. Having fpoke thus,
he preſented to each of them another
large dry cruft, bidding them drink it off,
and not be baſhful, for it would do them
no
122
A TALE OF A TU B.
no hurt. The two brothers, after having
performed the ufual office in fuch delicate
conjunctures, of ſtaring a fufficient period
at lord Peter and each other, and finding
how matters were like to go, refolved not
to enter on a new difpute, but let him
carry the point as he pleaſed: for he was
now got into one of his mad fits, and to
argue or expoftulate further would only
ferve to render him a hundred times more
untractable.
I have choſen to relate this worthy mat-
ter in all its circumftances, becauſe it gave a
principal occafion to that great and famous
rupture, which happened about the fame
time among theſe brethren, and was never
afterwards made up. But of that I ſhall
treat at large in another ſection.
However it is certain, that lord Peter
even in his lucid intervals was very lewdly
given in his common converfation, ex-
treme wilful and pofitive, and would at
any time rather argue to the death, than
allow himſelf once to be in an error. Be-
fides, he had an abominable faculty of tel-
ling huge palpable lyes upon all occafions;
By this rupture is meant the reformation.
and
A TALE OF A TUB.
123
and not only fwearing to the truth, but
curfing the whole company to hell, if
they pretended to make the leaſt ſcruple
of believing him. One time he ſwore he
had a cow at home, which gave as
much milk at a meal, as would fill three
thouſand churches; and what was yet
more extraordinary, would never turn
four. Another time he was telling of an
old * fign-poſt, that belonged to his father,
with nails and timber enough in it to
build fixteen large men of war. Talking
one day of Chineſe waggons, which were
made fo light as to fail over mountains:
Z-ds,
ds, faid Peter, where's the wonder
of that? by G-, I ſaw a + large houſe
The ridiculous multiply-
ing of the virgin Mary's milk
amongſt the papifts, under the
allegory of a cow, which gave
as much milk at a meal, as
would fill three thouſand
churches. W. Wotton.
*By this fign-poft is meant
the cross of our bleffed Sa-
viour; and, if all the wood,
that is fhewn for parts of it,
was collected, the quantity
would fufficiently juftify this
farcafm.
+ The chapel of Loretto.
He falls here only upon the
+
ridiculous inventions of pope-
ry: the church of Rome in-
tended by theſe things to gull
filly, fuperftitious people, and
rook them of their money;
the world had been too long
in flavery, our anceſtors glo-
riously redeemed us from that
yoke. The church of Rome
therefore ought to be expofed,
and he deferves well of man-
kind that does expofe it. W.
Wotton.
Ibid. The chapel of Loretto,
which travelled from the Holy
Land to Italy.
of
124
A TALE OF A TUB.
!
of lime and ftone travel over fea and land,
granting that it stopped fometimes to bait,
above two thousand German leagues. And
that which was the good of it, he would
fwear deſperately all the while, that he
never told a lye in his life; and at every
word; by G-, gentlemen, I tell you no-
thing but the truth; and the D—l broil
them eternally, that will not believe me.
In fhort, Peter grew fo fcandalous,
that all the neighbourhood began in plain
words to ſay, he was no better than a
knave. And his two brothers, long weary
of his ill uſage, refolved at laft to leave
him; but firſt, they humbly defired a copy
of their father's will, which had now lain
by neglected time out of mind. Inftead
of granting this requeſt, he called them
damned fons of whores, rogues, traytors, and
the reft of the vile names he could mufter
up. However, while he was abroad one
day upon his projects, the two youngſters
watched their opportunity, made a ſhift
to come at the will, * and took a copia
vera, by which they preſently faw how
grofly they had been abufed; their father
Tranflated the fcriptures into the vulgar tongues.
having
A TALE OF A TUB.
125
having left them equal heirs, and ſtrictly
commanded, that whatever they got
ſhould lie in common among them all.
Purſuant to which their next enterprize
was to break open the cellar-door, and
get a little good + drink to ſpirit and com-
fort their hearts. In copying the will they
had met another precept againſt whoring,
divorce, and feparate maintenance; upon
which their next work was to difcard
their concubines, and fend for their wives.
Whilſt all this was in agitation, there en-
ters a follicitor from Newgate, defiring lord
Peter would pleaſe to procure a pardon
for a thief, that was to be hanged to mor-
row.
But the two brothers told him, he
was a coxcomb to feek pardons from a
fellow, who deferved to be hanged much
better than his client; and difcovered all
the method of that impoſture, in the ſame
form I delivered it a while ago, adviſing
the follicitor to put his friend upon obtain-
ing || a pardon from the king. In the
+ Adminiſtered the cup to
the laity at the communion.
† Allowed the marriages of
prieſts.
Directed penitents not to
trust to pardons and abfolu-
tions procured for money, but
fent them to implore the mer-
cy of God, from whence alone
remiffion is to be obtained.
midft
126
A DIGRESSION
1
midft of all this clutter and revolution, in
comes Peter with a file of* dragoons at
his heels, and gathering from all hands
what was in the wind, he and his gang,
after feveral millions of fcurrilities and
curſes not very important here to repeat,
by main force very fairly + kicks them
both out of doors, and would never let
them come under his roof from that day
to this.
SE C T. V.
A digreffion in the modern kind.
t,
WE, whom the world is pleaſed to
honour with the title of modern au¬
thors, fhould never have been able to com-
paſs our great deſign of an everlaſting re-
membrance, and never-dying fame, if our
endeavours had not been fo highly fer-
viceable to the general good of mankind.
This, O univerfe, is the adventurous at
tempt of me thy ſecretary;
* By Peter's dragoons is
meant the civil power, which
thoſe princes, who were bi-
gotted to the Romish fuper-
ftition, employed againſt the
reformers.
† The pope fhuts all who
diffent from him out of the
church.
Quemvis
Not
Vol.I. P186
JSMüller inv.del.et Sc:
IN THE MODERN KIND. 127
Quemvis perferre laborem
Suadet,& inducit noctes vigilare ferenas.
To this end I have fome time fince,
with a world of pains and art, diffected
the carcass of human nature, and read
many uſeful lectures upon the ſeveral parts
both containing and contained; 'till at laſt
it ſmelt fo ftrong, I could preferve it no
longer. Upon which, I have been at a
great expence to fit up all the bones with
exact contexture, and in due fymmetry;
ſo that I am ready to fhew a compleat ana-
tomy thereof to all curious gentlemen and
others. But not to digrefs farther in the
midſt of a digreffion, as I have known
fome authors inclofe digreffions in one
another, like a neft of boxes; I do affirm,
that having carefully cut up human nature,
I have found a very ſtrange, new, and im-
portant diſcovery; that the public good
of mankind is performed by two ways,
ftruction and diverfion. And I have farther
proved in my ſaid ſeveral readings (which
perhaps the world may one day fee, if I
can prevail on any friend to ſteal a copy,
or on any certain gentleman of my ad-
in-
mirers
128
A DIGRESSION
mirers to be very importunate) that, as
mankind is now difpofed, he receives
much greater advantage by being diverted
than inftructed; his epidemical diſeaſes be-
ing faftidiofity, amorphy, and ofcitation;
whereas in the prefent univerfal empire of
wit and learning, there feems but little
matter left for inftruction. However, in
compliance with a leffon of great age and
authority, I have attempted carrying the
point in all its heights; and accordingly
throughout this divine treatife have ſkil-
fully kneaded up both together with a
layer of utile, and a layer of dulce.
When I confider how exceedingly our
illuſtrious moderns have eclipſed the weak
glimmering lights of the antients, and turn-
ed them out of the road of all faſhionable
commerce, to a degree, that our choice*
town-wits of moſt refined accompliſhments
are in grave diſpute, whether there have
been ever any antients or no: in which
point we are like to receive wonderful
fatisfaction from the moſt uſeful labours
* The learned perfon, here
meant by our author, hath
been endeavouring to annihi-
late fo many ancient writers,
that, until he is pleafed to ftop
his hand, it will be dangerous
to affirm, whether there have
been any antients in the world.
and
IN THE MODERN KIND. 129
and lucubrations of that worthy modern,
Dr. Bentley: I fay, when I confider all
this, I cannot but bewail, that no famous.
modern hath ever yet attempted an uni-
verfal fyftem, in a ſmall portable volume,
of all things that are to be known, or
believed, or imagined, or practifed in life.
I am however forced to acknowledge, that
fuch an enterprize was thought on fome
time ago by a great philofopher of * 0.
Brazile. The method he propoſed, was,
by a certain curious receipt, a noftrum,
which after his untimely death I found
among his papers; and do here, out of my
great affection to the modern learned, pre-
ſent them with it, not doubting, it may one
day encourage fome worthy undertaker.
You take fair correct copies, well bound
in calfskin and lettered at the back, of all
modern bodies of arts and Sciences whatsoever,
and in what language you please. Theſe
you diftil in balneo mariæ, infufing quin-
teffence of poppy Q. S. together with
three pints of lethe, to be had from the a-
*This is an imaginary
ifland, of kin to that, which
is called the Painters wives
VOL. I.
island, placed in fome unknown
part of the ocean, meerly at
the fancy of the map-maker.
K
pothecaries.
130
A DIGRESSION
pothecaries. You cleanfe away carefully the
fordes and caput mortuum, letting allthat
is volatile evaporate. You preferve only
the first running, which is again to be diſtil-
led feventeen times, till what remains will
amount to about two drams. This you keep
in a glass vial hermetically fealed for one
and twenty days. Then you begin your
catholick treatife, taking every morning
fafting, firſt ſhaking the vial, three drops of
this elixir, fnuffing it ftrongly up your nose.
It will dilate itſelf about the brain (where
there is any) in fourteen minutes, and you
immediately perceive in your head an infinite
number of abſtracts, fummaries, compendi-
ums, extracts, collections, medulla's, ex-
cerpta quædam's, florilegia's, and the like,
all difpofed into great order, and reducible
upon paper.
I muſt needs own, it was by the affſiſt-
ance of this arcanum, that I, though other-
wife impar, have adventured upon fo dar-
ing an attempt, never atchieved or un-
dertaken before, but by a certain author
called Homer; in whom, though other-
wiſe a perſon not without fome abilities,
and for an antient, of a tolerable genius,
I have
IN THE MODERN KIND. 131
I have diſcovered many grofs errors, which
are not to be forgiven his very afhes, if by
chance any
of them are left. For whereas
we are affured, he defigned his work for
a † compleat body of all knowledge, hu-
man, divine, political, and mechanic; it
is manifeft, he hath wholly neglected fome,
and been very imperfect in the reft. For,
firſt of all, as eminent a cabalift as his
diſciples would repreſent him, his account
of the opus magnum is extremely poor and
deficient; he ſeems to have read but very
fuperficially either Sendivogus, Behmen, or
‡ Anthropofophia Theomagica. He is alfo
quite miſtaken about the fphæra pyroplaf-
tica, a neglect not to be atoned for; and,
if the reader will admit fo fevere a cenfure,
vix crederem autorem hunc unquam audi-
viffe ignis vocem. His failings are not leſs
prominent in ſeveral parts of the mechanics.
For, having read his writings with the
utmoft application ufual among modern
+ Homerus omnes res hu-
manas poematis complexus eft.
Xenoph. in conviv.
A treatife written about.
fifty years ago, by a Welsh
gentleman of Cambridge, his
name, as I remember, was
Vaughan, as appears by the
anfwer to it written by the
learned Dr. Henry Moor; it is
a piece of the most unintel-
ligible fuftian, that perhaps
was ever publiſhed in any lan-
guage.
K 2
wits,
132
A DIGRESSION
wits, I could never yet difcover the leaſt
direction about the ſtructure of that ufeful
inftrument, a fave-all. For want of which,
if the moderns had not lent their affiftance,
we might yet have wandered in the dark.
But I have ſtill behind a fault far more
notorious to tax the author with; I mean,
I his grofs ignorance in the common laws
of this realm, and in the doctrine, as well
as difcipline of the church of England. A
defect indeed for which both he and all
the antients ſtand moſt juſtly cenfured by
my worthy and ingenious friend, Mr.
Wotton, batchelor of divinity, in his in-
comparable treatiſe of antient and modern
learning; a book never to be fufficiently
valued, whether we confider the happy
turns and flowings of the author's wit,
the great uſefulneſs of his fublime diſcove-
ries upon the fubject of flies and ſpittle, or
the laborious eloquence of his ftyle. And
I cannot forbear doing that author the
juſtice of my public acknowledgments, for
the great helps and liftings I had out of
Mr. Wotton (to whom
our author never gives any
quarter) in his comparifon of
antient and modern learning
numbers divinity, law, &c.
among thoſe parts of know-
ledge, wherein we excel the
antients.
his
IN THE MODERN KIND. 133
5
his incomparable piece, while I was pen-
ning this treatiſe.
But, befides theſe omiffions in Homer
already mentioned, the curious reader will
alfo obferve feveral defects in that author's
writings, for which he is not altogether fo
accountable. For whereas every branch of
knowledge has received fuch wonderful
acquirements fince his age, eſpecially with-
in theſe laſt three years, or thereabouts;
it is almoſt impoffible, he could be ſo very
perfect in modern difcoveries, as his ad-
vocates pretend. We freely acknowledge
him to be the inventor of the compaſs, of
gun-powder, and the circulation of the blood:
but, I challenge any of his admirers to fhew
me, in all his writings, a compleat ac-
count of the spleen; does he not alfo leave
us wholly to feek in the art of political wa-
gering? What can be more defective and
unfatisfactory than his long differtation
upon tea? And as to his method of fali-
vation without mercury, fo much celebrat-
ed of late, it is, to my own knowledge
and experience, a thing very little to be
relied on.
It was to fupply fuch momentous de-
K 3
fects,
134
A DIGRESSION
fects, that I have been prevailed on after
long follicitation to take pen in hand; and
I dare venture to promife, the judicious
reader ſhall find nothing neglected here,
that can be of uſe upon any emergency of
life. I am confident to have included and
exhaufted all, that human imagination
can rife or fall to. Particularly, I recom-
mend to the perufal of the learned certain
diſcoveries, that are wholly untouched by
others; whereof I ſhall only mention,among
a great many more, my new help for ſmat-
terers, or the art of being deep-learned,
and fhallow-read. A curious invention a-
bout mouſe-traps. An univerfal rule of
reafon, or every man his own carver; to-
gether with a moſt uſeful engine for catch-
ing of owls. All which the judicious reader
will find largely treated on in the ſeveral
parts of this difcourfe.
I hold myſelf obliged to give as much
light as is poffible into the beauties and ex-
cellencies of what I am writing, becauſe
it is become the faſhion and humour moſt
applauded among the firft authors of this
polite and learned age, when they would
correct the ill-nature of critical, or in-
form
IN THE MODERN KIND. 135
form the ignorance of courteous readers.
Befides there have been feveral famous
pieces lately publiſhed, both in verſe and
profe; wherein, if the writers had not been
pleaſed, out of their great humanity and
affection to the public, to give us a nice de-
tail of the fublime, and the admirable they
contain, it is a thouſand to one, whether we
ſhould ever have difcovered one grain of ei-
ther. For my own particular, I cannot deny,
that whatever I have faid upon this occa-
fion, had been more proper in a preface,
and more agreeable to the mode, which
uſually directs it thither. But I here think
fit to lay hold on that great and honourable
privilege of being the laft writer; I claim
an abfolute authority in right, as the fresh-
eft modern, which gives me a defpotic
power over all authors before me. In the
ſtrength of which title, I do utterly diſap-
prove and declare againſt that pernicious
cuftom, of making the preface a bill of
fare to the book. For I have always
looked upon it as a high point of indif-
cretion in monster-mongers, and other
tailers of strange fights, to hang out a
fair large picture over the door, drawn
K 4
re-
after
136
A DIGRESSION
after the life, with a moft eloquent de-
ſcription underneath: this hath faved me
many a three-pence; for my curiofity was
fully fatisfied, and I never offered to go
in, though often invited by the urging
and attending orator with his laſt moving
and ſtanding piece of rhetoric; Sir, upon
my word, we are just going to begin. Such
is exactly the fate at this time of prefaces,
epiftles, advertiſements, introductions, pro-
legomena's, apparatus's, to the readers. This
expedient was admirable at firſt; our great
Dryden has long carried it as far as it
would go, and with incredible fuccefs. He
hath often faid to me in confidence, that
the world would have never ſuſpected him
to be fo great a poet, if he had not affured
them fo frequently in his prefaces, that it
was impoffible they could either doubt or
forget it. Perhaps it may be fo; however,
I much fear, his inftructions have edified
out of their place, and taught men to
grow wifer in certain points, where he
never intended they fhould; for it is la-
mentable to behold, with what a lazy ſcorn
many of the yawning readers of our age
do now a-days twirl over forty or fifty
pages
IN THE MODERN KIND. 137
pages of preface and dedication (which is
the ufual modern ftint) as if it were fo much
Latin. Though it muſt be alfo allowed on
the other hand, that a very confiderable
number is known to proceed critics and
wits by reading nothing elfe. Into which
two factions, I think, all preſent readers
may juſtly be divided. Now for myſelf,
I profefs to be of the former fort; and
therefore having the modern inclination to
expatiate upon the beauty of my own pro-
ductions, and difplay the bright parts of
my difcourfe, I thought beft to do it in
the body of the work, where, as it now
lies, it makes a very confiderable addition
to the bulk of the volume, a circumftance
by no means to be neglected by a skilful writer.
Having thus paid my due deference and
acknowledgment to an eſtabliſhed cuftom
of our neweſt authors, by a long digreffion
unfought for, and an univerfal cenfure un-
provoked; by forcing into the light with
much pains and dexterity my own excel-
lencies and other men's defaults, with great
juſtice to myſelf and candour to them,
I now happily refume my ſubject, to the
infinite fatisfaction both of the reader and
the author,
SECT.
138 A TALE OF A TUB,
W
SECT. VI.
A TALE OF A TUB.
E left lord Peter in open rupture
with his two brethren; both for
ever diſcarded from his houſe, and refign-
ed to the wide world, with little or no-
thing to truſt to. Which are circumftances,
that render them proper fubjects for the
charity of a writer's pen to work on; fcenes
of miſery ever affording the faireſt harveſt
for great adventures. And in this the
world may perceive the difference between
the integrity of a generous author, and
that of a common friend. The latter is
obſerved to adhere cloſe in profperity, but
on the decline of fortune to drop fuddenly
off. Whereas, the generous author, juſt
on the contrary, finds his hero on the
dunghil, from thence by gradual ſteps
raifes him to a throne, and then imme-
diately withdraws, expecting not ſo much
as thanks for his pains: in imitation of
which example I have placed lord Peter
in a noble houſe, given him a title to wear,
money to ſpend. There I fhall leave
and
him
A TALE OF A TUB.
139
him for fome time; returning where com-
mon charity directs me, to the affiſtance
of his two brothers at their loweſt ebb.
However, I fhall by no means forget my
character of an hiftorian to follow the
truth ſtep by ſtep, whatever happens, or
where-ever it may lead me.
The two exiles, fo nearly united in for-
tune and intereſt, took a lodging together;
where, at their firft leiſure, they began to
reflect on the numberlefs misfortunes and
vexations of their life paft, and could not
tell on the fudden, to what failure in
their conduct they ought to impute them;
when, after fome recollection, they call-
ed to mind the copy of their father's will,
which they had ſo happily recovered. This
was immediately produced, and a firm
refolution taken between them to alter
whatever was already amifs, and reduce
all their future meaſures to the ftricteft
obedience preſcribed therein. The main
body of the will (as the reader cannot eafi-
ly have forgot) confifted in certain admi-
rable rules about the wearing of their coats;
in the perufal whereof, the two brothers
at every period duly comparing the doc-
trine
140 A TALE OF A TU B.
trine with the practice, there was never
feen a wider difference between two things;
horrible, downright tranfgreffions of every
point. Upon which they both refolved,
without further delay, to fall immediately
upon reducing the whole exactly after
their father's model.
But, here it is good to ftop the haſty
reader, ever impatient to ſee the end of
an adventure, before we writers can duly
prepare him for it. I am to record, that
theſe two brothers began to be diſtinguiſh-
ed at this time by certain names. One
of them defired to be called * MARTIN,
and the other took the appellation of
JACK. Theſe two had lived in much
friendſhip and agreement under the tyran-
ny of their brother Peter, as it is the ta-
lent of fellow-fufferers to do; men in mis-
fortune, being like men in the dark, to
whom all colours are the fame: but when
they came forward into the world, and
began to diſplay themſelves to each other,
and to the light, their complexions ap-
peared extremely different; which the
* Martin Luther.
+ John Calvin,
prefent
A TALE OF A TU B.
141
prefent poſture of their affairs gave them
fudden opportunity to diſcover.
But, here the fevere reader may juftly
tax me as a writer of fhort memory, a de-
ficiency to which a true modern cannot
but, of neceffity, be a little fubject. Becauſe,
memory being an employment of the mind
upon things paft, is a faculty, for which
the learned in our illuftrious age have no
manner of occafion, who deal intirely with
invention, and ſtrike all things out of
themſelves, or at leaſt by collifion from
each other: upon which account we think
it highly reaſonable to produce our great
forgetfulneſs, as an argument unanſwera-
ble for our great wit. I ought in method
to have informed the reader about fifty
pages ago of a fancy lord Peter took, and
infuſed into his brothers, to wear on their
coats whatever trimmings came up in
faſhion; never pulling off any, as they
went out of the mode, but keeping on
all together; which amounted in time to
a medley the moſt antic, you can poſſibly
conceive; and this to a degree, that, up-
on the time of their falling out, there was
hardly a thread of the original coat to be
feen:
142 A TALE OF A TUB.
feen: but an infinite quantity of lace, and
ribands, and fringe, and embroidery, and
points (I mean, only thofe * tagged with
filver, for the reft fell off.) Now this ma-
terial circumftance having been forgot in
due place, as good fortune hath ordered,
comes in very properly here, when the
two brothers are juſt going to reform their
veſtures into the primitive ſtate, preſcrib→
ed by their father's will.
They both unanimoufly entered upon
this great work, looking fometimes on
their coats, and fometimes on the will.
Martin laid the firft hand; at one twitch
brought off a large handful of points;
and, with a fecond pull, ftripped away
ten dozen yards of fringe. But when he
had gone thus far, he demurred a while:
he knew very well, there yet remained a
great deal more to be done; however, the
firft heat being over, his violence began
to cool, and he refolved to proceed more
moderately in the reft of the work; hav-
ing already narrowly eſcaped a ſwinging
* Points tagged with filver,
are thoſe doctrines that pro-
mote the greatneſs and wealth
of the church, which have
been therefore woven deepeſt
in the body of popery.
rent
A.5.
P:140.
...Müller inv del at Sc:
A TALE OF A TU B. 143
rent in pulling off the points, which, be-
ing tagged with filver (as we have obferv-
ed before) the judicious workman had
with much fagacity double fown to pre-
ferve them from falling. Refolving there-
fore to rid his coat of a huge quantity of
gold lace, he picked up the ftitches with
much caution, and diligently gleaned out
all the looſe threads as he went, which
proved to be a work of time. Then he
fell about the embroidered Indian figures
of men, women, and children; againſt
which, as you have heard in its due place,
their father's teftament was extremely ex-
act and fevere: theſe with much dexterity
and application were after a while quite
eradicated, or utterly defaced. For the
reft, where he obſerved the embroidery to
be worked fo cloſe, as not to be got away
without damaging the cloth, or where it
ſerved to hide or ftrengthen any flaw in
the body of the coat, contracted by the
perpetual tampering of workmen upon it;
he concluded, the wifeft courſe was to let
it remain, reſolving in no cafe whatſoever,
that the fubftance of the ftuff fhould fuffer
injury; which he thought the beſt method
for
!
144
A TALE OF A TUB.
for ferving the true intent and meaning of
his father's will. And this is the neareſt
account I have been able to collect of
Martin's proceedings upon this great re-
volution.
But his brother Jack, whofe adven-
tures will be fo extraordinary, as to furniſh
a great part in the remainder of this dif-
courſe, entered upon the matter with o-
ther thoughts, and a quite different fpirit.
For the memory of lord Peter's injuries
produced a degree of hatred and ſpight,
which had a much greater fhare of incit-
ing him, than any regards after his fa-
ther's commands, fince theſe appeared at
beſt only ſecondary and fubfervient to the
other. However, for this medley of hu-
mour he made a ſhift to find a very plaufi-
ble name, honouring it with the title of
zeal; which is perhaps the moſt figni-
ficant word, that hath been ever yet pro-
duced in any language; as, I think, I
have fully proved in my excellent analy-
tical difcourfe upon that fubject; wherein
I have deduced a hiftori-theo-phyfi-logical
account of zeal, fhewing how it firſt pro-
ceeded from a notion into a word, and
from
1
A TALE OF A TUB.
145
from thence in a hot ſummer ripened into
a tangible fubftance. This work, con-
taining three large volumes in folio, I de-
fign very fhortly to publiſh by the modern
way of fubfcription, not doubting but the
nobility and gentry of the land will give
me all poffible encouragement; having
had already fuch a taſte of what I am able
to perform.
I record therefore, that brother Jack,
brim-full of this miraculous compound,
reflecting with indignation upon Peter's
tyranny, and farther provoked by the
defpondency of Martin, prefaced his re-
folutions to this purpoſe. What, faid he,
a rogue that locked up his drink, turned
away our wives, cheated us of our fortunes;
palmed his damned crufts upon us for mut-
ton; and, at laſt, kicked us out of doors;
must we be in his fashions, with a pox! a
rafcal, befides, that all the street cries out
against. Having thus kindled and inflam-
ed himſelf, as high as poffible, and by
confequence in a delicate temper for be-
ginning a reformation, he fet about the
work immediately, and in three minutes
made more diſpatch than Martin had done
VOL. I.
L
in
146 A TALE OF A TU B.
in as many hours. For, courteous reader,
you are given to underſtand, that zeal is
never fo highly obliged, as when you fet
it a tearing; and Jack, who doated on
that quality in himſelf, allowed it at this
time its full fwing. Thus it happened,
that ſtripping down a parcel of gold lace
a little too haſtily, he rent the main body
of his coat from top to bottom; and where-
as his talent was not of the happieſt in tak-
ing up a fitch, he knew no better way,
than to dearn it again with packthread and
a skewer. But the matter was yet infinite-
ly worſe (I record it with tears) when he
proceeded to the embroidery: for, being
clumſy by nature, and of temper impa-
tient; withal, beholding millions of
ftitches that required the niceft hand, and
fedateft conftitution, to extricate; in a
great rage he tore off the whole piece,
cloth and all, and flung it into the kennel,
and furiouſly thus continued his career;
Ab, good brother Martin, faid he, do as I
do, for the love of God; ftrip, tear, pull,
rend, flay off all, that we may appear as un-
like the rogue Peter as it is poffible; I would
not, for an hundred pounds, carry the leaft
mark
A TALE OF A TUB. 147
mark about me, that might give occafion
to the neighbours of fufpecting, that I was
related to fuch a rafcal. But Martin, who
at this time happened to be extremely
flegmatic and fedate, begged his brother, of
all love, not to damage his coat by any
means; for he never would get fuch another:
defired him to confider, that it was not their
bufinefs to form their actions by any reflec-
tion upon Peter, but by obferving the rules
prefcribed in their father's will. That he
fhould remember, Peter was still their bro-
ther, whatever faults or injuries he had
committed; and therefore they should, by
all means, avoid fuch a thought, as that
of taking meaſures for good and evil from
no other rule, than of oppofition to him.
That it was true, the teftament of their good
father was very exact in what related to the
wearing of their coats; yet was it no lefs
penal and ftrict in preſcribing agreement,
and friendship, and affection between them.
And therefore, if ſtraining a point were at
all diſpenſable, it would certainly be fo, ra-
ther to the advance of unity, than increaſe
of contradiction.
MARTIN had ftill proceeded as grave-
L 2
ly
148 A TALE OF A TUB.
ly as he began; and doubtleſs would have
delivered an admirable lecture of morality,
which might have exceedingly contribut-
ed to my reader's repofe both of body and
mind, the true ultimate end of ethics;
but Jack was already gone a flight-fhot
beyond his patience. And, as in fcholaftic
diſputes nothing ſerves to rouſe the ſpleen
of him that oppoſes fo much, as a kind of pe-
dantic affected calmnefs in the refpondent;
diſputants being for the moſt part like une-
qual ſcales, where the gravity of one fide
advances the lightness of the other, and
caufes it to fly up, and kick the beam: fo
it happened here, that the weight of Mar-
tin's argument exalted Jack's levity, and
made him fly out and ſpurn againſt his
brother's moderation. In fhort, Martin's
patience put Jack in a rage; but that,
which moft afflicted him, was, to ob-
ferve his brother's coat fo well reduced
into the ſtate of innocence; while his
own was either wholly rent to his fhirt;
or thoſe places, which had eſcaped his
cruel clutches, were ftill in Peter's livery.
So that he looked like a drunken beau,
half rifled by bullies; or like a freſh tenant
of
A TALE OF A TU B.
149
of Newgate, when he has refuſed the pay-
ment of garnish; or like a diſcovered hop-
lifter, left to the mercy of Exchange-
women *; or like a bawd in her old velvet
petticoat, refigned into the fecular hands
of the mobile Like any, or like all of
theſe, a medley of rags and lace, and rents,
and fringes, unfortunate Jack did now
appear: he would have been extreme-
ly glad to fee his coat in the condition of
Martin's, but infinitely gladder to find that
of Martin in the fame predicament with
his. However, fince neither of theſe was
likely to come to paſs, he thought fit to
lend the whole bufinefs another turn, and
to dreſs up neceffity into a virtue. There-
fore, after as many of the fox's arguments,
+ as he could mufter up, for bringing
Martin to reafon, as he called it; or, as
*The galleries over the
piazzas in the Royal Exchange
were formerly filled with
fhops, kept chiefly by women;
the fame ufe was made of a
building called the New Ex-
change in the Strand; this edi-
fice has been pulled down;
the ſhopkeepers have removed
from the Royal Exchange into
Cornhill, and the adjacent
ftrects; and there are now no
remains of Exchange women,
but in Exeter 'change, and they
are no longer deemed the firſt
minifters of faſhion.
+ The fox in the fable, who
having been caught in a trap
and loft his tail, ufed many
arguments to perfuade the reft
to cut off theirs; that the fin-
gularity of his deformity might
not expoſe him to deriſion.
L 3
he
150
A TALE OF A TUB.
he meant it, into his own ragged, bob-
tailed condition; and obferving he faid
all to little purpoſe; what, alas! was left
for the forlorn Jack to do, but after a
million of fcurrilities againſt his brother to
run mad with fpleen, and, fpight, and
contradiction. To be fhort, here began
a mortal breach between theſe two. Jack
went immediately to new lodgings, and in
a few days it was for certain reported, that
he had run out of his wits. In a fhort
time after he appeared abroad, and con-
firmed the report by falling into the odd-
eft whimfies, that ever a fick brain con-
ceived.
And now the little boys in the ſtreets
began to falute him with ſeveral names,
Sometimes they would call him * Jack
the bald; fometimes, † fack with a lan-
tern; ſometimes, Dutch Jack; fome-
times, || French Hugh; fometimes, § Tom
the Beggar; and fometimes, +‡ Knocking
Jack of the north. And it was under one,
+
*That is, Calvin, from
calvus, bald.
+ All thoſe who pretend to
inward light.
•
Jack of Leyden, who gave
rife to the Anabaptifts.
|| The Hugonots.
The Gueuses, by which
name ſome proteftants in Flan-
ders were called.
++ John Knox, the reformer
of Scotland.
or
A TALE OF A TUB, 151
or fome, or all of theſe appellations, which
I leave the learned reader to determine,
that he hath given rife to the moſt illuf-
trious and epidemic fect of Æolifts, who,
with honourable commemoration, do ſtill
acknowledge the renowned JACK for their
author and founder. Of whofe original,
as well as principles, I am now advancing
to gratify the world with a very particular
account.
·Melleo contingens cuncta lepore.
SECT. VII.
A digreffion in praife of digreffions.
Have ſometimes heard of an iliad in a
nut-ſhell; but it hath been my fortune
to have much oftener feen a nut-fhell in an
iliad. There is no doubt that human life
has received moft wonderful advantages
from both; but to which of the two the
world is chiefly indebted, I fhall leave
among the curious, as a problem worthy
of their utmoſt enquiry. For the inven-
tion of the latter, I think the common-
wealth of learning is chiefly obliged to
L 4
the
152
A DIGRESSION IN
the great modern improvement of digref
fions: the late refinements in knowledge
running parallel to thoſe of dyet in our
nation, which, among men of a judicious
taſte, are dreffed up in various compounds
confifting in ſoups and olio's, fricaffeés and
ragoufts.
It is true, there is a fort of morofe, de-
tracting, ill bred people, who pretend utter-
ly to difreliſh theſe polite innovations; and
as to the fimilitude from dyet, they allow
the parallel, but are fo bold to pronounce
the example itſelf a corruption and dege-
neracy of taſte. They tell us, that the
faſhion of jumbling fifty things together
in a diſh was at firft introduced in com-
pliance to a depraved and debauched ap-
petite, as well as to a crazy conftitution :
and to ſee a man hunting through an olio
after the head and brains of a goofe, a
widgeon, or a woodcock, is a fign he wants
a ftomach and digeftion for more fubftan-
tial victuals. Farther, they affirm, that
digreffions in a book are like foreign troops
in a ſtate, which argue the nation to want
a heart and hands of its own, and often
either
PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS. 153
either fubdue the natives, or drive them
into the moſt unfruitful corners.
But, after all that can be objected by
theſe fupercilious cenfors, it is manifeft,
the fociety of writers would quickly be re-
duced to a very inconfiderable number, if
men were put upon making books with
the fatal confinement of delivering no-
thing beyond what is to the purpoſe. It
is acknowledged, that were the caſe the
fame among us, as with the Greeks and
Romans, when learning was in its cradle
to be reared and fed, and cloathed by in-
vention; it would be an eaſy taſk to fill up
volumes upon particular occafions, with-
out farther expatiating from the fubjects
than by moderate excurfions, helping to
advance or clear the main defign. But
with knowledge it has fared as with a nu-
merous army, encamped in a fruitful
country; which for a few days maintains
itſelf by the product of the foil it is on;
till, provifions being ſpent, they are ſent
to forage many a mile, among friends or
enemies, it matters not. Mean while the
neighbouring fields, trampled and beaten
down,
154
A DIGRESSION IN
down, become barren and dry, affording
no fuftenance but clouds of duft.
The whole courſe of things being thus
intirely changed between us and the an-
tients, and the moderns wifely fenfible of
it; we of this age have diſcovered a ſhorter,
and more prudent method, to become
Scholars and wits without the fatigue of
reading or of thinking. The moſt accom-
pliſhed way of ufing books at preſent is
twofold: either firft, to ferve them as
fome men do lords, learn their titles ex-
actly, and then brag of their acquain-
tance. Or fecondly, which is indeed the
choicer, the profounder, and politer me-
thod, to get a thorough infight into the
index, by which the whole book is govern-
ed and turned, like fifbes by the tail. For,
to enter the palace of learning at the great
gate requires an expence of time and
forms; therefore men of much hafte and
little ceremony are content to get in by
the back-door. For, the arts are all in a
flying march, and therefore more eaſily
fubdued by attacking them in the rear,
Thus phyficians diſcover the ſtate of the
whole body by confulting only what
comes
PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS. 155
comes from behind. Thus men catch know-
ledge by throwing their wit on the pof-
teriors of a book, as boys do ſparrows with
flinging Salt upon their tails. Thus hu-
man life is beſt underſtood by the wiſe
man's rule of regarding the end. Thus
are the ſciences found, like Hercules's
oxen, by tracing them backwards. Thus
are old ſciences unravelled like old ſtockings,
by beginning at the foot.
Beſides all this, the army of the ſciences
hath been of late, with a world of martial
diſcipline, drawn into its clofe order, fo
that a view, or a muſter may be taken of
it with abundance of expedition. For this
great bleffing we are wholly indebted to
Syſtems and abstracts, in which the modern
fathers of learning, like prudent ufurers,
ſpent their ſweat for the eaſe of us their
children. For labour is the feed of idleness,
and it is the peculiar happineſs of our noble
age to gather the fruit.
Now the method of growing wife,
learned, and fublime, having become fo
regular an affair, and fo eſtabliſhed in all
its forms; the number of writers muſt
needs have increaſed accordingly, and to
a pitch
156
?
A DIGRESSION IN
a pitch that has made it of abfolute necef-
fity for them to interfere continually with
each other. Befides, it is reckoned, that
there is not at this preſent a fufficient
quantity of new matter left in nature to
furniſh and adorn any one particular fub-
ject to the extent of a volume. This I
am told by a very ſkilful computer, who
hath given a full demonſtration of it from
rules of arithmetic.
This perhaps may be objected againſt
by thoſe, who maintain the infinity of
matter, and therefore will not allow, that
any Species of it can be exhaufted. For
anſwer to which, let us examine the no-
bleft branch of modern wit or invention,
planted and cultivated by the preſent age,
and which of all others hath born the moſt,
and the fairest fruit. For though fome
remains of it were left us by the antients,
yet have not any of thoſe, as I remember,
been tranflated or compiled into ſyſtems
for modern ufe. Therefore we may affirm
to our own honour, that it hath, in fome
fort, been both invented, and brought to
a perfection by the fame hands. What I
mean, is that highly celebrated talent
among
PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS. 157
among the modern wits, of deducing fi-
militudes, allufions, and applications, ve-
ry ſurpriſing, agreeable, and appofite, from
the pudenda of either fex, together with
their proper uses. And truly, having
obferved how little invention bears any
vogue, befides what is derived into thefe
channels, I have ſometimes had a thought,
that the happy genius of our age and
country was prophetically held forth by
that antient * typical deſcription of the
Indian pygmies; whofe ftature did not
exceed above two foot; fed quorum puden-
da craffa, et ad talos ufque pertingentia.
Now, I have been very curious to inſpect
the late productions, wherein the beauties
of this kind have moft prominently ap-
peared; and although this vein hath bled
fo freely, and all endeavours have been
uſed in the power of human breath to
dilate, extend, and keep it
open; like
the Scythians, who had a custom, and
an inftrument, to blow up the privities of
their mares, that they might yield the more
milk: yet I am under an apprehenfion, it
* Ctefiæ fragm. apud Pho- + Herodot. L. 4.
tium.
is
;
158
A DIGRESSION IN
is near growing dry, and paſtall recovery;
and that either ſome new fonde of wit
ſhould, if poffible, be provided, or elſe,
that we muſt e'en be content with repe→
tition here, as well as upon all other occa-
fions.
This will ftand as an inconteftable ar-
gument, that our modern wits are not to
reckon upon the infinity of matter for a
conftant fupply. What remains therefore,
but that our laft recourſe muſt be had to
large indexes, and little compendiums?
quotations muſt be plentifully gathered,
and booked in alphabet; to this end,
though authors need be little confulted,
yet critics, and commentators, and lexi-
cons carefully muft. But above all, thoſe
judicious collectors of bright parts, and
flowers, and obfervanda's, are to be nicely
dwelt on, by fome called the fieves and
boulters of learning; though it is left un-
determined, whether they dealt in pearls
or meal; and confequently, whether we
are more to value that which passed through,
or what staid behind.
By theſe methods, in a few weeks,
there ftarts up many a writer, capable of
managing
PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS. 159
managing the profoundeſt, and moſt uni-
verfal fubjects. For, what though his
head be empty, provided his common-place
book be full; and if you will bate him but
the circumſtances of method, and ſtyle, and
grammar, and invention; allow him but
the common privileges of tranſcribing
from others, and digreffing from himſelf,
as often as he fhall fee occafion; he will
defire no more ingredients towards fitting
up a treatiſe, that ſhall make a very comely
figure on a bookſeller's ſhelf, there to be
preſerved neat and clean for a long eterni-
ty, adorned with the heraldry of its title.
fairly inſcribed on a label; never to be
thumbed or greaſed by ſtudents, nor
bound to everlaſting chains of darkneſs in
a library: but, when the fulneſs of time
is come, fhall happily undergo the trial
of purgatory, in order to afcend the ſky.
Without theſe allowances, how is it
poffible, we modern wits fhould ever have
an opportunity to introduce our collecti-
ons, lifted under fo many thouſand heads
of a different nature; for want of which,
the learned world would be deprived of
infinite delight, as well as inftruction, and
we
160
A DIGRESSION.
we ourſelves buried beyond redrefs in an
inglorious and undiſtinguiſhed oblivion?
From fuch elements as thefe, I am alive
to behold the day, wherein the corpora-
tion of authors can out-vie all its brethren
in the guild. A happineſs derived to us
with a great many others from our Scy-
thian anceſtors; among whom the number
of pens was fo infinite, that the* Grecian
eloquence had no other way of expreffing
it, than by faying, that in the regions, far
to the north, it was hardly poffible for a
man to travel, the very air was fo replete
with feathers.
The neceffity of this digreffion will
eafily excuſe the length; and I have choſen
for it as proper a place as I could readily
find. If the judicious reader can aſſign
a fitter, I do here impower him to re-
move it into any other corner he pleaſes.
And ſo I return with great alacrity to pur-
fue a more important concern.
*Herodot. L. 4.
SECT.
A TALE OF A TUB.
161
SECT. VIII.
A TALE OF A TUB.
*
'HE learned Eolifts maintain the
original caufe of all things to be wind,
from which principle this whole univerſe
was at firſt produced, and into which it
muſt at laſt be refolved; that the fame
breath, which had kindled, and blew up
the flame of nature, ſhould one day blow
it out:
Quod procul a nobis flectat fortuna gu-
bernans,
This is what the adepti underſtand by
their anima mundi; that is to fay, the
Spirit, or breath, or wind of the world;
for, examine the whole fyftem by the
particulars of nature, and you will find it
not to be difputed. For whether you
pleaſe to call the forma informans of man
by the name of ſpiritus, animus, afflatus,
or anima; what are all theſe but feveral
appellations for wind, which is the ruling
element in every compound, and into
*All pretenders to infpiration whatſoever.
VOL. I.
M
which
162
A TALE OF A TUB.
which they all reſolve upon their corrup-
tion? farther, what is life itſelf, but, as it
is commonly called, the breath of our
noftrils? whence it is very juftly obſerved
by naturalifts, that wind ftill continues of
great emolument in certain myfteries not
to be named, giving occafion for thoſe
happy epithets of turgidus, and inflatus,
applied either to the emittent, or recipi-
ent organs.
By what I have gathered out of antient
records, I find the compass of their doctrine
took in two and thirty points, wherein it
would be tedious to be very particular.
However, a few of their moſt important
precepts, deducible from it, are by no
means to be omitted; among which the
following maxim was of much weight;
that fince wind had the mafter-ſhare, as
well as operation in every compound, by
confequence thoſe beings muſt be of chief
excellence, wherein that primordium ap-
pears moſt prominently to abound; and
therefore man is in higheft perfection of
all created things, as having, by the great
bounty of philofophers, been endued with
three diftinct anima's or winds, to which
the
A TALE OF A TUB.
163
the fage Æolifts, with much liberality,
have added a fourth of equal neceſſity, as
well as ornament with the other three;
by this quartum principium taking in our
four corners of the world; which gave
occafion to that renownd cabalift, † Bum-
baſtus, of placing the body of man in due
pofition to the four cardinal points.
In confequence of this, their next prin-
ciple was, that man brings with him into
the world a peculiar portion or grain of
wind, which may be called a quinta eſſen-
tia, extracted from the other four. This
quinteſſence is of a catholic uſe upon all
emergencies of life, is improvable into all
arts and ſciences, and may be wonderfully
refined, as well as enlarged by certain
methods in education. This, when blown
up to its perfection, ought not to be
covetoufly hoarded up, ftifled, or hid
under a buſhel, but freely communicated
to mankind. Upon theſe reaſons, and
others of equal weight, the wife Æolifts
affirm the gift of BELCHING to be the
nobleft act of a rational creature. To cul-
Chriftophorus Theophraftus Pa-
racelfus Bumbaftus.
+ This is one of the names
of Paracelfus; he was called
M
2
tivate
164
A TALE OF A TUB.
tivate which art, and render it more fer-
viceable to mankind, they made uſe of
feveral methods. At certain feafons of the
year, you might behold the prieſts among
them in vaft numbers with their mouths
gaping wide enough against a storm. At
other times were to be feen feveral hun-
dreds linked together in a circular chain,
with every man a pair of bellows applied
to his neighbour's breech, by which they
blew up each other to the ſhape and fize
of a tun; and for that reafon, with great
propriety of ſpeech, did ufually call their
bodies, their vefels. When by thefe and
the like performances they were grown
fufficiently replete, they would imme-
diately depart, and difembogue, for the
public good, a plentiful ſhare of their ac-
quirements into their diſciples chaps. For
we muſt here obſerve, that all learning
was eſteemed among them to be com-
pounded from the fame principle. Be-
cauſe, firſt, it is generally affirmed, or
confeffed, that learning puffeth men up:
and fecondly, they proved it by the fol-
This is meant of thofe up the feeds of rebellion, &c.
feditious preachers, who blow
lowing
A TALE OF A TU B.
165
lowing fyllogifm; words are but wind;
and learning is nothing but words; ergo,
learning is nothing but wind. For this
reaſon the philofophers among them did
in their ſchools deliver to their pupils all
their doctrines and opinions by eructation,
wherein they had acquired a wonderful
eloquence, and of incredible variety. But
the great characteriſtic, by which their
chief ſages were beſt diſtinguiſhed, was
a certain poſition of countenance, which
gave undoubted intelligence to what de-
gree or proportion the ſpirit agitated the
inward mafs. For after certain gripings,
the wind and vapours iffuing forth, having
firft by their turbulence and convulfions
within cauſed an earthquake in man's little
world, diftorted the mouth, bloated the
cheeks, and gave the eyes a terrible kind
of relievo. At which junctures, all their
belches were received for facred, the fourer
the better, and fwallowed with infinite
confolation by their
by their meager devotees.
And, to render theſe yet more compleat,
becauſe the breath of man's life is in his
noftrils, therefore the choiceſt, moſt edify-
ing, and moſt enlivening belches were very
M 3
wifely
166 A TALE OF A TU B.
wifely conveyed through that vehicle, to
give them a tincture as they paffed.
Their gods were the four winds, whom
they worshipped, as the fpirits that per-
vade and enliven the univerfe, and as
thoſe from whom alone all infpiration can
properly be faid to proceed. However,
the chief of thefe, to whom they perform-
ed the adoration of * latria, was the al-
mighty North; an antient deity, whom the
inhabitants of Megalopolis in Greece had
likewife in the higheſt reverence; † om-
nium deorum Boream maxime celebrant.
This god, though endued with ubiquity,
was yet fuppofed by the profounder Eolifts
to poffefs one peculiar habitation, or (to
fpeak in form) a colum empyreum, where-
in he was more intimately prefent. This
was fituated in a certain region, well
known to the antient Greeks, by them call-
ed, Exoría, or the land of darkness. And
although many controverfies have arifen
upon that matter; yet fo much is undif
puted, that, from a region of the like de-
nomination the moſt refined Æolifts have
*Latria is that worship preme Deity.
which is paid only to the fu- Paufan. L. 8.
bor-
A TALE OF A TUB.
167
•
borrowed their original; from whence
in every age the zealous among their prieft-
hood have brought over their choiceft in
Spiration, fetching it with their own hands
from the fountain-head in certain bladders,
and difploding it among the fectaries in
all nations, who did, and do, and ever
will, daily gaſp and pant after it.
Now, their myfteries and rites were
performed in this manner. It is well
known among the learned, that the vir-
tuofo's of former ages had a contrivance
for carrying and preferving winds in caſks
or barrels, which was of great aſſiſtance
upon long fea voyages; and the loſs of ſo
uſeful an art at preſent is very much to be
lamented, although, I know not how,
with great negligence omitted by* Panci-
rollus. It was an invention afcribed to
Eolus himſelf, from whom this fect is
denominated, and who, in honour of
their founder's memory, have to this day
preſerved great numbers of thofe barrels,
whereof they fix one in each of their tem-
ples, firſt beating out the top; into this
* An author who writ De loft, and of arts invented.
Artibus perditis, &c. of arts
M 4
barrel,
168
A TALE OF A TUB.
barrel, upon folemn days, the prieſt en-
ters; where, having before duly prepared
himſelf by the methods already deſcribed,
a ſecret funnel is alfo conveyed from his
pofteriors to the bottom of the barrel,
which admits new fupplies of infpiration
from a northern chink or crany. Where-
upon, you behold him fwell immediately
to the ſhape and fize of his veſſel. In this
poſture he diſembogues whole tempefts
upon his auditory, as the fpirit from be-
neath gives him utterance; which, iffuing
ex adytis et penetralibus, is not performed
without much pain and gripings. And,
the wind in breaking forth † deals with
his face as it does with that of the ſea, firſt
blackening, then wrinkling, and, at laſt,
bursting it into a foam. It is in this guiſe,
the facred Eolift delivers his oracular
belches to his panting difciples; of whom,
fome are greedily gaping after the ſancti-
fied breath; others are all the while hymn-
ing out the praiſes of the winds; and, gently
wafted to and fro by their own hum-
ming, do thus reprefent the foft breezes
of their deities appeaſed.
+ This is an exact defcrip-
tion of the changes made in
the face by enthufiaftic prea-
chers.
A TALE OF A TUB.
169
It is from this cuſtom of the prieſts, that
fome authors maintain theſe olifts to
have been very antient in the world. Be-
cauſe the delivery of their myfteries,
which I have juſt now mentioned, appears
exactly the fame with that of other antient
oracles, whofe inſpirations were owing to
certain fubterraneous effluviums of wind,
delivered with the fame pain to the prieſt,
and much about the fame influence on the
people. It is true indeed, that theſe were
frequently managed and directed by female
officers, whofe organs were underſtood
to be better diſpoſed for the admiffion of
thofe oracular gufts, as entering and paſ-
fing up through a receptacle of greater
capacity, and cauſing alſo a pruriency by
the way, fuch as, with due management,
hath been refined from carnal into a fpiri-
tual extafy. And, to ftrengthen this pro-
found conjecture, it is farther infifted, that
this cuſtom of * female prieſts is kept up ftill
in certain refined colleges of our modern
Æolifts, who are agreed to receive their in-
ſpiration derived through the receptacle
aforefaid, like their anceſtors, the fibyls.
*Quakers, who fuffer their women to preach and pray.
And,
170
A TALE OF A TUB.
And, whereas the mind of man, when
he gives the fpur and bridle to his thoughts,
doth never ftop, but naturally fallies out
into both extreams of high and low, of
good and evil; his firſt flight of fancy
commonly tranſports him to ideas of what
is moſt perfect, finiſhed, and exalted; till
having foared out of his own reach and
fight, not well perceiving how near the
frontiers of heighth and depth border
upon
each other; with the fame courfe and wing,
he falls down plum into the loweſt bottom
of things; like one who travels the east
into the west; or like a ftrait line drawn
by its own length into a circle. Whether,
a tincture of malice in our natures makes
us fond of furniſhing every bright idea
with its reverſe; or, whether reaſon, re-
flecting upon the fum of things, can like
the fun ferve only to enlighten one half
of the globe, leaving the other half by
neceffity under fhade and darkneſs; or,
whether fancy, flying up to the imagina-
tion of what is higheſt and beft, becomes
over-ſhort, and ſpent, and weary, and
fuddenly falls, like a dead bird of para-
dife, to the ground: or whether, after
all
A TALE OF A TUB.
171
up
all theſe metaphyfical conjectures, I have
not intirely miffed the true reafon; the pro-
pofition however, which hath ſtood me in
fo much circumſtance, is altogether true;
that, as the most uncivilized parts of man-
kind have ſome way or other climbed
into the conception of a god, or fupreme
power, fo they have ſeldom forgot to
provide their fears with certain ghaftly
notions, which, inftead of better, have
ſerved them pretty tolerably for a devil.
And this proceeding feems to be natural
enough; for it is with men, whofe imagi-
nations are lifted up very high, after the
fame rate, as with thoſe, whofe bodies
are fo; that, as they are delighted with
the advantage of a nearer contemplation
upwards, fo they are equally terrified
with the diſmal proſpect of the precipice
below. Thus, in the choice of a devil,
it hath been the ufual method of mankind
to fingle out fome being, either in act, or
in viſion, which was in moſt antipathy to
the god they had framed. Thus alfo the
fect of Eolifts poffeffed themſelves with
a dread, and horror, and hatred of two
malignant natures, betwixt whom, and
the
172 A TALE OF A TUB.
the deities they adored, perpetual enmity
was eſtabliſhed. The firft of thefe was
the * camelion, fworn foe to infpiration,
who in ſcorn devoured large influences of
their god, without refunding the ſmalleſt
blaſt by eructation. The other was a huge
terrible monſter, called Moulinavent, who,
with four ſtrong arms, waged eternal bat-
tle with all their divinities, dexterously
turning to avoid their blows, and repay
them with intereſt.
Thus furniſhed, and fet out with gods,
as well as devils, was the renowned fect
of Eolifts, which makes at this day fo
illuftrious a figure in the world, and
whereof, that polite nation of Laplanders
are, beyond all doubt, a moft authentic
branch; of whom I therefore cannot,
without injuftice, here omit to make
honourable mention; fince they appear to
be fo cloſely allied in point of intereft, as
well as inclinations, with their brother
Eolifts among us, as not only to buy
their winds by wholefale from the fame
* I do not well underſtand following lines, called Moulin
what the author aims at here, à vent, which is the French
any more than by the terrible name for a windmill.
monſter, mentioned in the
mer-
A TALE OF A TUB,
173
merchants, but alfo to retail them after
the ſame rate and method, and to cuſtom-
ers much alike.
Now, whether the fyftem here deli-
vered was wholly compiled by Jack; or,
as fome writers believe, rather copied
from the original at Delphos, with certain
additions and emendations, fuited to the
times and circumſtances; I fhall not ab-
folutely determine. This I may affirm,
that Jack gave it at leaſt a new turn, and
formed it into the fame drefs and model,
as it lies deduced by me.
I have long fought after this opportu-
nity of doing juſtice to a fociety of men,
for whom I have a peculiar honour; and
whoſe opinions, as well as practices, have
been extremely mifreprefented, and tra-
duced, by the malice or ignorance of
their adverfaries. For, I think it one of
the greateſt, and beſt of human actions to
remove prejudices, and place things in
their trueft and faireft light; which I
therefore boldly undertake, without any
regards of my own, befide the confcience,
the honour, and the thanks.
SECT.
174
A DIGRESSION
SECT. IX.
A digreffion concerning the original, the
ufe, and improvement of madneſs in a
commonwealth.
NOR
OR fhall it any ways detract from
the juſt reputation of this famous
fect, that its rife and inftitution are owing
to fuch an author, as I have deſcribed Jack
to be; a perſon whoſe intellectuals were
overturned, and his brain fhaken out of
its natural pofition; which we commonly
ſuppoſe to be a diſtemper, and call by the
name of madneſs or phrenzy. For, if we
take a furvey of the greatest actions, that
have been performed in the world under
the influence of fingle men; which
which are,
the establishment of new empires by conqueft;
the advance and progress of new ſchemes in
philofophy; and the contriving, as well as
the propagating of new religions; we fhall
find the authors of them all to have been
perfons, whoſe natural reaſon had admit-
ted great revolutions from their diet, their
education, the prevalency of fome certain
temper, together with the particular in-
Auence
CONCERNING MADNESS. 175
Aluence of air and climate. Befides, there
is fomething individual in human minds,
that eafily kindles at the accidental ap-
proach and collifion of certain circum-
ftances, which, though of paultry and
mean appearance, do often flame out into
the greateſt emergencies of life. For,
great turns are not always given by ſtrong
hands, but by lucky adaption, and at
proper feaſons; and it is of no import,
where the fire was kindled, if the vapour
has once got up into the brain. For, the
upper region of man is furniſhed like the
middle region of the air; the materials are
formed from cauſes of the wideft difference,
yet produce at laft the fame fubftance and
effect. Mifts arife from the earth, fteams
from dunghils, exhalations from the ſea,
and ſmoke from fire; yet all clouds are
the fame in compofition, as well as confe-
quences; and the fumes iffuing from a
jakes will furniſh as comely and uſeful a
vapour, as incenfe from an altar. Thus
far, I fuppofe, will eafily be granted me;
and then it will follow, that as the face
of nature never produces rain, but when
it is over-caft and difturbed, fo human
under-
176
A DIGRESSION
underſtanding, ſeated in the brain, muft
be troubled and overſpread by vapours,
aſcending from the lower faculties to
water the invention, and render it fruitful.
Now, although theſe vapours (as it hath
been already faid) are of as various original,
as thoſe of the ſkies; yet the crops they
produce, differ both in kind and degree,
meerly according to the foil. I will pro-
duce two inftances to prove and explain,
what I am now advancing.
* A certain great prince raiſed a mighty
army, filled his coffers with infinite trea-
fures, provided an invincible fleet, and
all this, without giving the leaft part of
his defign to his greateft minifters, or his
neareſt favourites. Immediately the whole
world was alarmed; the neighbouring
crowns in trembling expectations, towards
what point the ftorm would burft; the
fmall politicians every where forming pro-
found conjectures. Some believed, he had
laid a ſcheme for univerfal monarchy;
others, after much infight, determined
the matter to be a project for pulling
down the pope, and fetting up the reform
*This was Harry the Great of France.
ed
!
CONCERNING MADNESS. 177
ed religion, which had once been his own.
Some again, of a deeper fagacity, fent him
into Afia to fubdue the Turk, and reco-
ver Palestine. In the midſt of all theſe
projects and preparations, a certain *ftate-
Jurgeon, gathering the nature of the dif-
eafe by theſe fymptoms, attempted the
cure, at one blow performed the operati-
on, broke the bag, and out flew the va-
pour; nor did any thing want to render
it a compleat remedy, only, that the
prince unfortunately happened to die in
the performance. Now is the reader ex-
ceeding curious to learn, from whence
this vapour took its rife, which had fo long
ſet the nations at a gaze, what fecret wheel,
what hidden ſpring could put into motion
fo wonderful an engine. It was after-
wards diſcovered, that the movement of
this whole machine had been directed by
an abſent female, whoſe eyes had raiſed a
protuberancy, and before emiffion ſhe was
removed into an enemy's country. What
ſhould an unhappy prince do in fuch tick-
liſh circumstances as thefe? he tried in
* Ravillac, who ſtabbed Henry the Great in his coach.
VOL. I.
N
vain
178
A DIGRESSION
vain the poet's never-failing receipt of cor-
pora quæque; for,
Idque petit corpus mens, unde eft faucia
amore;
Unde feritur, eo tendit, geftitque coire.
Lucr.
:
Having to no purpoſe uſed all peaceable
endeavours, the collected part of the ſemen,
raiſed and inflamed, became aduft, con-
verted to choler, turned head upon the
ſpinal duct, and aſcended to the brain
the very fame principle, that influences a
bully to break the windows of a whore,
who has jilted him, naturally ftirs up a
great prince to raiſe mighty armies, and
dream of nothing but fieges, battles, and
victories.
Teterrima belli
Caufa-
The other * inftance is, what I have
read fomewhere in a very antient author of
a mighty king, who, for the fpace of
above thirty years, amufed himſelf to take,
* This is meant of the prefent French king, Lewis XIV.
and
CONCERNING MADNESS. 179
!
en;
and loſe towns; beat armies, and be beat-
drive princes out of their dominions;
fright children from their bread and butter;
burn, lay waſte, plunder, dragoon, maf-
facre fubject and ſtranger, friend and foe,
male and female. It is recorded, that the
philofophers of each country were in grave
diſpute upon caufes natural, moral, and
political, to find out where they fhould
affign an original ſolution of this phæno-
menon. At last, the vapour or Spirit,
which animated the hero's brain, being
in perpetual circulation, ſeized upon that
region of the human body fo renowned
for furniſhing the † zibeta occidentalis,
and gathering there into a tumor, left the
reft of the world for that time in peace.
Of fuch mighty confequence it is, where
thofe exhalations fix; and of fo little,
from whence they proceed. The fame
fpirits,, which in their fuperior progrefs
would conquer a kingdom, defcending
upon the anus, conclude in a fiftula.
+ Paracelfus, who was fo
famous for chymiftry, tried
an experiment upon human
excrement, to make a perfume
of it; which, when he had
brought to perfection, he call-
N
ed zibeta occidentalis, or west-
ern civet, the back parts of
man (acording to his divi-
fion mentioned by the author,
page 163.) being the west.
2
Let
180
A DIGRESSION
Let us next examine the great introdu-
cers of new ſchemes in philoſophy, and
ſearch till we can find, from what faculty
of the foul the difpofition ariſes in mortal
man of taking it into his head to advance
new ſyſtems, with fuch an eager zeal, in
things agreed on all hands impoffible to be
known: from what feeds this difpofition
fprings, and to what quality of human
nature theſe grand innovators have been
indebted for their number of diſciples.
Becauſe it is plain, that ſeveral of the chief
among them, both antient and modern,
were uſually miſtaken by their adverfaries,
and indeed by all, except their own fol-
lowers, to have been perfons crazed, or
out of their wits; having generally pro-
ceeded in the common courfe of their
words and actions by a method very dif-
ferent from the vulgar dictates of unrefined
reafon; agreeing for the moft part in their
feveral models with their prefent undoubt-
ed fucceffors in the academy of modern
Bedlam (whofe merits and principles I fhall
farther examine in due place.) Of this kind
were Epicurus, Diogenes, Apollonius, Lu-
cretius, Paracelfus, Des Cartes, and o-
thers;
CONCERNING MADNESS. 181
thers; who, if they were now in the world,
tied faſt, and ſeparate from their follow-
ers, would, in this our undiſtinguiſhing
age, incur manifeft danger of phlebotomy,
and whips, and chains, and dark chambers,
and straw. For, what man in the natu-
ral ſtate, or courſe of thinking, did ever
conceive it in his power to reduce the no-
tions of all mankind exactly to the fame
length, and breadth, and heighth of his
own? yet, this is the firft humble and
civil defign of all innovators in the em-
pire of reaſon. Epicurus modeftly hoped,
that one time or other a certain fortuitous
concourfe of all men's opinions, after per-
petual juftlings, the ſharp with the ſmooth,
the light and the heavy, the round and the
fquare, would by certain clinamina unite
in the notions of atoms and void, as theſe
did in the originals of all things. Cartefi-
us reckoned to fee, before he died, the
ſentiments of all philoſophers, like ſo many
leffer ftars in his romantic fyftem, wrap-
ped and drawn within his own vortex.
Now, I would gladly be informed, how
it is poffible to account for fuch imagina-
tions as theſe in particular men, without
recourfe
N 3
182
A DIGRESSION
recourſe to my phænomenon of vapours,
afcending from the lower faculties to over-
fhadow the brain, and there diftilling into
conceptions, for which the narrownefs of
our mother tongue has not yet affigned
any other name, befides that of madneſs
or phrenzy. Let us therefore now con-
jecture, how it comes to paſs, that none
of theſe great preſcribers do ever fail pro-
viding themſelves and their notions with a
number of implicite difciples. And, I
think, the reaſon is eaſy to be affigned:
for, there is a peculiar ftring in the har-
mony of human underſtanding, which in
ſeveral individuals is exactly of the fame
tuning. This if you can dexterously fcrew
up to its right key, and then ftrike gently
upon it; whenever you have the good
fortune to light among thoſe of the ſame
pitch, they will, by a fecret neceſſary
ſympathy, ſtrike exactly at the ſame time.
And, in this one circumftance lies all the
fkill or luck of the matter; for if you
chance to jar the ſtring among thofe, who
are either above or below your own
heighth, inſtead of fubfcribing to your doc-
trine, they will tie you faft, call you
mad,
CONCERNING MADNESS. 183
mad, and feed you with bread and water.
It is therefore a point of the niceſt conduct
to diſtinguiſh and adapt this noble talent
with reſpect to the differences of perſons
and of times. Cicero underſtood this very
well, when writing to a friend in England,
with a caution, among other matters, to
beware of being cheated by our hackney-
coachmen (who, it ſeems, in thoſe days
were as errant raſcals as they are now) has
theſe remarkable words: * Eft quod gau-
deas te in ifta loca veniffe, ubi aliquid fa-
pere viderere. For, to ſpeak a bold truth,
it is a fatal miſcarriage fo ill to order affairs,
as to paſs for a fool in one company, when
in another you might be treated as a philo-
Sopher. Which I defire fome certain gentle-
men of my acquaintance to lay up in their
hearts, as a very ſeaſonable innuendo.
This, indeed, was the fatal miſtake of
that worthy gentleman, my moft ingeni-
ous friend, Mr. Wotton: a perfon, in ap-
pearance, ordained for great defigns, as
well as performances; whether you will
confider his notions or his looks, furely no,
man ever advanced into the public with
Epift. ad Fam. Trebatio.
N 4
fitter
184
A DIGRESSION
fitter qualifications of body and mind for
the propagation of a new religion. Oh, had
thoſe happy talents, miſapplied to vain phi-
lofophy, been turned into their proper chan-
nels of dreams and vifions, where diftortion
of mind and countenance are of fuch fove-
reign uſe; the baſe detracting world would
not then have dared to report, that fome-
thing is amifs, that his brain hath under-
gone an unlucky ſhake; which even his
brother modernifts themſelves, like un-
grates, do whiſper fo loud, that it reaches up
to the very garret I am now writing in.
Laftly, whofoever pleaſes to look into
the fountains of enthusiasm, from whence
in all ages have eternally proceeded fuch
fattening ftreams, will find the fpring
head to have been as troubled and muddy
as the current: of fuch great emolument
is a tincture of this vapour, which the
world calls madness, that without its help
the world would not only be deprived of
thoſe two great bleffings, conquefts and
fyftems, but even all mankind would unhap-
pily be reduced to the fame belief in things
invifible. Now, the former poftulatum
being held, that it is of no import from
what
CONCERNING MADNESS. 185
what originals this vapour proceeds, but
either in what angles it ftrikes and ſpreads
over the underſtanding, or upon what
Species of brain it afcends; it will be a
very delicate point to cut the feather, and
divide the feveral reaſons to a nice and cu-
rious reader, how this numerical difference
in the brain can produce effects of ſo vaſt a
difference from the fame vapour, as to be
the fole point of individuation between
Alexander the Great, Jack of Leyden, and
Monfieur Des Cartes. The prefent argu-
ment is the moſt abſtracted, that ever I
engaged in; it ſtrains my faculties to their
higheſt ſtretch: and I defire the reader to
attend with utmoſt perpenfity; for I now
proceed to unravel this knotty point.
+ There is in mankind, a certain
Hic multa
defiderantur.
*
*
*
And this I take to be a
clear folution of the matter.
+ Here is another defect in
the manufcript; but I think
the author did wifely, and
that the matter, which thus
ftrained his faculties, was not
worth a ſolution; and it were
well if all metaphyfical cob-
web problems were no other-
wife anſwered.
Having
186
A DIGRESSION
Having therefore fo narrowly paffed
through this intricate difficulty, the read-
er will, I am fure, agree with me in the
conclufion; that if the moderns mean by.
madneſs only a diſturbance or tranfpofi-
tion of the brain, by force of certain va-
pours iffuing up from the lower faculties ;
then has this madneſs been the parent of
all thoſe mighty revolutions, that have
happened in empire, in philofophy, and in
religion. For, the brain, in its natural
pofition and ſtate of ſerenity, diſpoſeth its
owner to paſs his life in the common forms
without any thoughts of fubduing multi-
tudes to his own power, his reafons, or his
vifions; and the more he ſhapes his un-
derſtanding by the pattern of human learn-
ing, the leſs he is inclined to form parties
after his particular notions; becauſe that
inftructs him in his private infirmities, as
well as in the ſtubborn ignorance of the
people. But when a man's fancy gets
aftride on his reafon; when imagination is
at cuffs with the fenfes; and common un-
derſtanding, as well as common fenfe, is
kicked out of doors; the firſt profelyte he
makes, is himſelf; and when that is once
compaffed,
CONCERNING MADNESS. 187
compaffed, the difficulty is not fo great in
bringing over others; a ftrong delufion
always operating from without, as vigo-
roufly as from within. For cant and viſion
are to the ear and the eye the fame, that
tickling is to the touch. Thoſe entertain-
ments and pleaſures we moſt value in life,
are fuch as dupe and play the wag with
the fenfes. For, if we take an examina-
tion of what is generally underſtood by hap-
pinefs, as it has reſpect either to the under-
ftanding or the fenfes, we ſhall find all
its properties and adjuncts will herd under
this ſhort definition: that, it is a perpetual
poffeffion of being well deceived. And firſt,
with relation to the mind or underſtand-
ing, it is manfeſt, what mighty advan-
tages fiction has over truth; and the rea-
fon is juſt at our elbow, becauſe imagina-
tion can build nobler ſcenes, and produce
more wonderful revolutions, than fortune
or nature will be at expence to furniſh.
Nor is mankind ſo much to blame in his
choice thus determining him, if we con-
fider that the debate merely lies between
things past, and things conceived: and fo
the queftion is only this; whether things,
that
188
A DIGRESSION
✔
that have place in the imagination, may
not as properly be faid to exift, as thoſe
that are feated in the memory; which may
be juſtly held in the affirmative, and very
much to the advantage of the former, fince
this is acknowledged to be the womb of
things, and the other allowed to be no
more than the grave. Again, if we take
this definition of happineſs, and examine
it with reference to the fenfes, it will be
acknowledged wonderfully adapt. How
fading and infipid do all objects accoſt us
that are not conveyed in the vehicle of de-
lufion! how fhrunk is every thing, as it
appears in the glaſs of nature! fo that if it
were not for the affiftance of artificial
mediums, falfe lights, refracted angles,
varniſh and tinfel; there would be a
mighty level in the felicity and enjoyments
of mortal men. If this were ferioufly con-
fidered by the world, as I have a certain
reaſon to ſuſpect it hardly will, men would
no longer reckon among their high points
of wiſdom the art of expofing weak fides,
and publiſhing infirmities; an employ-
ment, in my opinion, neither better nor
worfe than that of unmasking, which, I
think,
CONCERNING MADNESS. 189
P
think, has never been allowed fair uſage,
either in the world, or the play-houſe.
In the proportion that credulity is a
more peaceful poffeffion of the mind, than
curiofity; ſo far preferable is that wiſdom,
which converſes about the furface, to that
pretended philofophy, which enters into
the depth of things, and then comes
gravely back with informations and diſco-
veries, that in the infide they are good for
nothing. The two fenfes, to which all
objects firſt addreſs themſelves, are the
fight and the touch; theſe never examine
farther than the colour, the fhape, the
fize, and whatever other qualities dwell,
or are drawn by art upon the outward of
bodies; and then comes reafon officiouſly
with tools for cutting, and opening, and
mangling, and piercing, offering to de-
monſtrate, that they are not of the fame
confiftence quite through. Now I take
all this to be the laſt degree of perverting
nature; one of whofe eternal laws it is,
to put her beſt furniture forward. And
therefore, in order to fave the charges of
all ſuch expenſive anatomy for the time to
come, I do here think fit to inform the
reader,
190
A DIGRESSION
reader, that in fuch conclufions as thefe,
reaſon is certainly in the right; and that
in moft corporeal beings, which have fal-
len under my cognizance, the out fide hath
been infinitely preferable to the in: where-
of I have been farther convinced from
fome late experiments. Laft week I faw
a woman flayed, and you will hardly be-
lieve, how much it altered her perfon for
the worſe. Yeſterday I ordered the car-
caſe of a beau to be ftripped in my pre-
fence; when we were all amazed to find
ſo many unfuſpected faults under one fuit
of cloaths. Then I laid open his brain,
his heart, and his spleen: but I plainly
perceived at every operation, that the far-
ther we proceeded, we found the defects in-
creaſe upon us in number and bulk: from
all which, I juftly formed this conclufion
to myſelf; that whatever philofopher or
projector can find out an art to folder and
patch up the flaws and imperfections of
nature, will deferve much better of man-
kind, and teach us a more uſeful ſcience,
than that ſo much in preſent eſteem, of
widening and expofing them, like him,
who held anatomy to be the ultimate end
of
CONCERNING MADNESS. 191
of phyfic. And he, whoſe fortunes and
difpofitions have placed him in a con-
venient ſtation to enjoy the fruits of this
noble art; he that can with Epicurus con-
tent his ideas with the films and images, that
fly off upon his ſenſes from the fuperficies of
things; fuch a man, truly wife, creams
off nature, leaving the four and the dregs
for philoſophy and reafon to lap up. This
is the fublime and refined point of felicity,
called, the poffeffion of being well deceived;
the ferene peaceful ftate of being a fool
among knaves.
But to return to madness. It is certain,
that according to the fyftem I have above
deduced, every species thereof proceeds
from a redundancy of vapours; therefore,
as fome kinds of phrenzy give double
ftrength to the finews, fo there are of other
Species, which add vigour, and life, and
fpirit to the brain: now, it ufually hap-
pens, that theſe active ſpirits, getting pof-
feffion of the brain, reſemble thoſe that
haunt other waft and empty dwellings,
which for want of buſineſs either vaniſh,
and carry away a piece of the houſe, or
elſe ſtay at home and fling it all out of the
windows.
192
A DIGRESSION
windows. By which are myſtically dif
played the two principal branches of mad→
nefs, and which ſome philofophers, not
confidering fo well as I, have miſtaken to
be different in their cauſes, overhaftily af-
ſigning the firſt to deficiency, and the o-
ther to redundance.
I think it therefore manifeft, from what
I have here advanced, that the main point
of ſkill and addreſs is to furniſh employment
for this redundancy of vapour, and pru-
dently to adjuſt the ſeaſon of it; by which
means it may certainly become of cardinal
and catholic emolument in a common-
wealth. Thus one man chufing a proper
juncture, leaps into a gulph, from thence
proceeds a hero, and is called the faver of
his country; another atchieves the fame
enterprize, but, unluckily timing it, has
left the brand of madness fixed as a re-
proach upon his memory; upon ſo nice a
diſtinction are we taught to repeat the
name of Curtius with reverence and love;
that of Empedocles with hatred and con-
tempt. Thus alfo it is ufually conceived,
that the elder Brutus only perfonated the
fool and mad-man for the good of the
public;
1
CONCERNING MADNESS. 193
public; but this was nothing elſe, than
a redundancy of the fame vapour long
mifapplied, called by the Latins, * Inge-
nium par negotiis; or, to tranflate it as
nearly as I can, a fort of phrenzy, never in
its right element, till you take it up in the
bufinefs of the ſtate.
Upon all which, and many other rea-
fons of equal weight, though not equally
curious, I do here gladly embrace an op-
portunity I have long fought for, of recom-
mending it as a very noble undertaking
to Sir Edward Seymour, Sir Chriftopher
Mulgrave, Sir John Bowls, John How
Efq; and other patriots concerned, that
they would move for leave to bring in a
bill for appointing commiffioners to in-
fpect into Bedlam, and the parts adjacent ;
who ſhall be impowered to fend for per-
fons, papers, and records; to examine in-
to the merits and qualifications of every
ſtudent and profeffor; to obferve with
utmoſt exactneſs their ſeveral difpofitions
and behaviour; by which means, duly
diſtinguiſhing and adapting their talents,
they might produce admirable inftruments
*Tacit.
VOL. I.
for
194
A DIGRESSION.
#
for the feveral offices in a ſtate, ‡
** civil and military; proceeding in fuch
methods as I ſhall here humbly propoſe.
And, I hope the gentle reader will give
fome allowance to my great folicitudes in
this important affair, upon account of the
high eſteem I have born that honourable
fociety, whereof I had ſome time the hap-
pineſs to be an unworthy member.
Is any ſtudent tearing his ftraw in piece-
meal, ſwearing and blafpheming, biting
his grate, foaming at the mouth, and emp-
tying his piffpot in the fpectator's faces?
let the right worſhipful the commiffioners
of inspection give him a regiment of dra-
goons, and fend him into Flanders among
the rest. Is another eternally talking, fput-
tering, gaping, bawling in a found with
out period or article? what wonderful
talents are here miflaid! let him be fur-
niſhed immediately with a green bag and
papers, and * three pence in his pocket,
and away with him to Westminster-Hall.
You will find a third gravely taking the
dimenfions of his kennel; a perſon of
+ Ecclefiaftical.
*A lawyer's coach-hire,
when four together, from any
of the inns of court to Weft-
minſter.
forefight
?
No 6
Volis. P.194.
J. Müller inv: del: et Sci
CONCERNING MADNESS. 195
forefight and infight, though kept quite
in the dark; for why, like Mofes, ecce*
cornuta erät ejus facies. He walks duly
in one pace, intreats your penny with due
gravity and ceremony; talks much of hard
times, and taxes, and the whore of Baby-
lon; bars up the wooden window of his
cell conſtantly at eight a-clock: dreams
of fire, and fhop-lifters, and court-custo-
mers, and privileged places. Now, what
a figure would all thefe acquirements
amount to, if the owner were fent into the
city among his brethren! Behold a fourth,
in much and deep converſation with him-
felf, biting his thumbs at proper junctures;
his countenance checkered with bufinefs
and defign; ſometimes walking very faſt,
with his eyes nailed to a paper that he
holds in his hands: a great faver of time,
ſomewhat thick of hearing, very ſhort of
fight, but more of memory: a man ever
in hafte, a great hatcher and breeder of
buſineſs, and excellent at the famous art
of whispering nothing: a huge idolater of
monofyllables and procraſtination; fo
* Cornutus is either horned
or fhining, and by this term
Mofes is defcribed in the vul-
gar Latin of the bible.
0 2
ready
196.
A DIGRESSION
ready to give his word to every body, that
he never keeps it: one that has forgot the
common meaning of words, but an admi-
rable retainer of the found: extremely
fubject to the looſeneſs, for his occafions are
perpetually calling him away. If you ap-
proach his grate in his familiar intervals;
Sir, ſays he, give me a penny, and I'll fing
you a fong: but give me the penny firſt.
(Hence comes the common faying, and
commoner practice, of parting with money
for a Song.) What a compleat fyftem of
court ſkill is here defcribed in every branch
of it, and all utterly loft with wrong ap-
plication! Accoft the hole of another ken-
nel (firſt ſtopping your noſe) you will be-
hold a furly, gloomy, nafty, flovenly mor-
tal, raking in his own dung, and dabbling
in his urine. The beſt part of his diet is
the reverfion of his own ordure, which,
expiring into ſteams, whirls perpetually
about, and at laſt re-infunds. His com-
plexion is of a dirty yellow, with a thin
fcattered beard, exactly agreeable to that
of his diet upon its firft declination; like
other infects, who having their birth and
education in an excrement, from thence
borrow
CONCERNING MADNESS. 197
i
borrow their colour and their fmell. The
ſtudent of this apartment is very ſparing of
his words, but fomewhat over-liberal of
his breath; he holds his hand out ready
to receive your penny, and immediately
upon receipt withdraws to his former oc-
cupations. Now, is it not amazing to
think, the fociety of Warwick-lane fhould
have no more concern for the recovery of
ſo uſeful a member, who, if one may
judge from theſe appearances, would be-
come the greateſt ornament to that illuf-
trious body? Another ſtudent ftruts up
fiercely to your teeth, puffing with his
lips, half ſqueefing out his eyes, and very
graciouſly holds
you out his hand to kifs.
The keeper defires you not to be afraid of
this profeffor, for he will do you no hurt:
to him alone is allowed the liberty of the
anti-chamber, and the orator of the place
gives you to underſtand, that this folemn
perfon is a taylor run mad with pride.
This confiderable ftudent is adorned with
many other qualities, upon which at pre-
ſent I ſhall not farther enlarge. ----‡ Hark
though it is capable of more
than one interpretation,
I cannot conjecture what
the author means here, or
how this chafm could be filled,
0 3
درم
in
198
A DIGRESSION
in your ear I am ſtrangely miſtaken,
if all his addreſs, his motions, and his airs
would not then be very natural, and in
their proper element.
I fhall not deſcend fo minutely, as to
infift upon the vast number of beaux, fidlers,
poets, and politicians, that the world might
recover by fuch a reformation: but what
is more material, befides the clear gain
redounding to the commonwealth by fo
large an acquifition of perfons to employ,
whofe talents and acquirements, if I may
be fo bold to affirm it, are now buried, or
at leaſt miſapplied; it would be a mighty
advantage accruing to the public from
this enquiry, that all theſe would very
much excel, and arrive at great perfection
in their feveral kinds; which, I think, is
manifeſt from what I have already fhewn,
and ſhall inforce by this one plain inſtance;
that, even I myſelf, the author of theſe
momentous truths, am a perfon, whoſe
imaginations are hard-mouthed and ex-
ceedingly difpofed to run away with his
reafon, which I have obferved from long
experience to be a very light rider, and
cafily fhaken off; upon which account,
my
CONCERNING MADNESS. 199
my friends will never truft me alone, with-
out a folemn promiſe to vent my fpecula-
tions in this, or the like manner, for the
univerſal benefit of human kind; which
perhaps the gentle, courteous, and candid
reader, brimful of that modern charity and
tenderneſs uſually annexed to his office,
will be very hardly perfuaded to believe.
S E C T. X
A FURTHER DIGRESSION *
IT is an unanfwerable argument of a
;
very refined age, the wonderful civili-
ties that have paſſed of late years between™
the nation of authors, and that of readers.
There can hardly pop out a play, a pam-
phlet, or a poem, without a preface full
of acknowledgment to the world for the
general reception and applaufe they have
given it, which the lord knows where, or
when, or how, or from whom it received.
* This fection has in for
mer editions been intitled,
Tale of a Tub; but the tale.
not being continued till Sec-
tion XI. and this being only
a further digreffion, no apolo-
gy can be thought neceffary
for making the title correſpond
with the contents.
This is literally true, as
we may obſerve in the pre-
faces to moft plays, poems,
&c.
Q 4
In
200 A FURTHER DIGRESSION.
"
In due deference to fo laudable a cuſtom,
I do here return my humble thanks to his
majesty, and both houfes of parliament ;
to the lords of the king's moft honourable
privy-council; to the reverend the judges;
to the clergy, and gentry, and yeomanry of
this land: but in a more eſpecial manner,
to my worthy brethren and friends at
Will's coffee-houſe, and Gresham-college,
and Warwick-lane, and Moor-fields, and
Scotland-yard, and Westminster-ball, and
Guild-ball: in fhort, to all inhabitants
and retainers whatſoever, either in court,
or church, or camp, or city, or country;
for their generous and univerſal acceptance
of this divine treatiſe. I accept their ap-
probation and good opinion with extreme
gratitude, and, to the utmoſt of my poor
capacity, ſhall take hold of all opportuni-
ties to return the obligation.
I am alſo happy, that fate has flung me
into fo bleffed an age for the mutual felici-
ty of bookfellers and authors, whom I may
ſafely affirm to be at this day the two only
ſatisfied parties in England. Aſk an author
how his laſt piece hath fucceeded: why,
truly, be thanks his ftars, the world has
been
A FURTHER DIGRESSION. 201
been very favourable, and he has not the
leaft reafon to complain: and yet, by G~,
be writ it in a week at bits and starts, when
be could ſteal an hour from his urgent af-
fairs; as it is a hundred to one, you may
fee farther in the preface, to which he re-
fers you; and for the reſt to the bookſel-
ler. There you go as a cuſtomer, and
make the fame queſtion: he bleffes his God
the thing takes wonderfully, he is juft print-
ing the fecond edition, and has but three
left in his shop. You beat down the price:
Sir, we fhall not differ; and, in hopes of
your cuſtom another time, lets you have
it as reafonable as you pleafe; and, pray
fend as many of your acquaintance as you
will, I shall upon your account furnish them
all at the fame rate.
Now, it is not well enough confidered,
to what accidents and occafions the world
is indebted for the greateſt part of thoſe
noble writings, which hourly ftart up to
entertain it. If it were not for a rainy day,
a drunken vigil, a fit of the spleen, a courfe
of phyfic, a fleepy funday, an ill run at
dice, a long taylor's bill, a beggar's purfe,
a factious head, a hot fun, coftive die,
VOL. I.
Р
want
202 A FURTHER DIGRESSION.
want of books, and a just contempt of learn-
ing: but for thefe events, I fay, and fome
others too long to recite (eſpecially a pru-
dent neglect of taking brimftone inwardly)
I doubt, the number of authors, and of
writings, would dwindle away to a degree
moft woful to behold. To confirm this
opinion hear the words of the famous
Troglodyte philofopher: It is certain (faid
he) fome grains of folly are of courſe an-
nexed as part of the compofition of human
nature, only the choice is left us, whether
we pleaſe to wear them inlaid or emboffed:
and we need not go very far to feek how
that is ufually determined, when we re-
member, it is with human faculties as
with liquors, the lightest will be ever at
the top.
There is in this famous ifland of Britain
a certain paultry fcribler, very voluminous,
whoſe character the reader cannot wholly
be a ſtranger to. He deals in a pernicious
kind of writings, called fecond parts, and
ufually paffes under the name of the au-
thor of the first. I eafily forefee, that as
foon as I lay down my pen, this nimble
operator will have ftolen it, and treat me
1
as
A FURTHER DIGRESSION. 203
as inhumanly as he hath already done Dr.
Blackmore, Leftrange, and many others,
who fhall here be nameleſs; I therefore
fly for juſtice and relief into the hands of
that great rectifier of faddles *, and lover
of mankind, Lr. Bentley, begging he will
take this enormous grievance into his moſt
modern confideration: and if it ſhould fo
happen, that the furniture of an aſs, in
the ſhape of a ſecond part, muſt for
my fins
be clapped by a miſtake upon my back,
that he will immediately pleaſe, in the pre-
fence of the world, to lighten me of the
burthen, and take it home to his own houſe,
till the true beast thinks fit to call for it.
In the mean time I do here give this
public notice, that my refolutions are to
circumfcribe within this difcourfe the
whole ftock of matter, I have been fo
many years providing. Since my vein is
once opened, I am content to exhauſt it
all at a running, for the peculiar advan-
tage of my dear country, and for the uni-
verfal benefit of mankind. Therefore hof-
pitably confidering the number of my
* Alluding to the trite phrafe, place the faddle on the
right horſe.
P 2x
gueſts,
204 A FURTHER DIGRESSION,
1
gueſts, they ſhall have my whole enter-
tainment at a meal; and I fcorn to ſet up
the leavings in the cupboard. What the
guests cannot eat, may be given to the
poor; and the * dogs under the table may
gnaw the bones. This I underſtand for a
more generous proceeding, than to turn
the company's ftomach by inviting them
again to morrow to a fcurvy meal of
Scraps.
If the reader fairly confiders the ftrength
of what I have advanced in the foregoing
fection, I am convinced it will produce a
wonderful revolution in his notions and
opinions; and he will be abundantly bet
ter prepared to receive and to reliſh the
concluding part of this miraculous treatiſe;
Readers may
be divided into three claffes,
the fuperficial, the ignorant, and the learn-
ed: and I have with much felicity fitted
my pen to the genius and advantage of
each. The fuperficial reader will be
ftrangely provoked to laughter; which
clears the breaft and the lungs, is fovereign
* By dogs, the author means
common injudicious critics,
he explains it himſelf before
76
in his digreffion upon critics.
page 103.
againſt
A FURTHER DIGRESSION. 205
againſt the spleen, and the moſt innocent
of all diuretics. The ignorant reader, be-
tween whom and the former the diftinction
is extremely nice, will find himſelf dif-
poſed to flare; which is an admirable
remedy for ill eyes, ſerves to raiſe and en-
liven the fpirits, and wonderfully helps
perfpiration. But the reader truly learn-
ed, chiefly for whoſe benefit I wake when
others fleep, and fleep when others wake,
will here find fufficient matter to employ
his fpeculations for the reft of his life. It
were much to be wiſhed, and I do here
humbly propoſe for an experiment, that
every prince in christendom will take ſeven
of the deepest ſcholars in his dominions, and
ſhut them up cloſe for ſeven years, in feven
chambers, with a command to write feven
ample commentaries on this comprehen-
five difcourfe. I fhall venture to affirm,
that whatever difference may be found in
their feveral conjectures, they will be all,
without the leaft diftortion, manifeftly
deducible from the text. Mean time, it
is my earneſt requeſt, that ſo uſeful an un-
dertaking may be entered upon, if their
majefties pleaſe, with all convenient fpeed;
becauſe
206 A FURTHER DIGRESSION.
becauſe I have a ſtrong inclination, before
I leave the world, to taſte a bleffing,
which we myfterious writers can feldom
reach, till we have gotten into our graves;
whether it is, that fame, being a fruit graf-
fed on the body, can hardly grow, and
much leſs ripen, till the stock is in the earth:
or, whether the be a bird of prey, and is
lured among the reft to purſue after the
fcent of a carcass: or, whether the con-
ceives, her trumpet founds beft and far-
theft, when ſhe ſtands on a tomb, by the
advantage of a rifing ground, and the
echo of a hollow vault.
It is true, indeed, the republic of dark
authors, after they once found out this
excellent expedient of dying, have been
peculiarly happy in the variety, as well as
extent of their reputation. For, night be-
ing the univerſal mother of things, wife
philofophers hold all writings to be fruitful
in the proportion they are dark; and
therefore, the true illuminated (that is
*
* A name of the Rofycru-
cians. Theſe were Fanatic
alchemifts, who in fearch after
the great fecret had invented
a means altogether propor-
tioned to their end; it was a
kind of theological philofo-
phy, made up of almoft equal
mixtures of pagan platonism,
Chriftian quietifm, and the
Jewish cabbala. Warburton
on the Rape of the Lock.
to
A FURTHER DIGRESSION. 207
to fay, the darkeſt of all) have met with
fuch numberless commentators, whoſe
fcholaftic midwifery hath delivered them
of meanings, that the authors themſelves
perhaps never conceived, and yet may very
juſtly be allowed the lawful parents of
them +, the words of fuch writers being
like feed, which, however fcattered at
random, when they light upon a fruitful
ground, will multiply far beyond either
the hopes or imagination of the fower.
And therefore in order to promote fo
uſeful a work, I will here take leave to
glance a few innuendo's, that may be of
great affiftance to thofe fublime fpirits,
who ſhall be appointed to labour in a uni-
verfal comment upon this wonderful dif-
courſe. And firft, I have couched a very
profound myſtery in the number of O's
multiplied by Seven, and divided by nine.
Alfo, if a devout brother of the rofy cross
will pray fervently for fixty three morn-
ings, with a lively faith, and then tranſpoſe
certain letters and fyllables according to
+ Nothing is more frequent,
than for commentators to force
interpretations, which the au-
thor never meant.
This is what the cabbalifts
among the Jews have done
with the bible, and pretend to
find wonderful myfteries by it.
prefcrip-
208 A FURTHER DIGRESSION.
I
preſcription in the ſecond and fifth fection;
they will certainly reveal into a full receipt
of the opus magnum. Laftly, whoever
will be at the pains to cultivate the whole
number of each letter in this treatiſe, and
fum up the difference exactly between the
feveral numbers, affigning the true natu→
ral caufe for every fuch difference; the
diſcoveries in the product will plentifully
reward his labour. But then he muft be-
ware of * Bythus and Sigé, and be fure
not to forget the qualities of Achamoth;
a cujus lacrymis humecta prodit fubftantia,
arifu lucida, a triftitia folida, et a timore
mobilis; wherein + Eugenius Philalethes
hath committed an unpardonable miſtake.
* I was told by an eminent
divine, whom I confulted on
this point, that theſe two bar-
barous words, with that of
Achamoth, and its qualities, as
here fet down, are quoted from
Irenæus. This he diſcovered:
by ſearching that antient writ-
er for another quotation of our
author, which he has placed
in the title page, and refers to
the book and chapter; the
curious were very inquifi-
tive, whether thofe barbarous
words, bafyma cacabafa, &c.
are really in Irenæus, and upon
THE
enquiry, it was found they
were a fort of cant or jargon
of certain heretics, and there-
fore very properly prefixed to
fuch a book as this of our
author.
+ Vid. Anima magica ab
fcondita.
To the abovementioned
treatiſe, called Anthropoſophia
Theomagica, there is another
annexed, called Anima magica
abfcondita, written by the fame
author, Vaughan, under the
name of Eugenius Philalethes,
but in neither of thofe treatifes
is
A TALE OF A TUB.
209
A
S E C T. XI.
A TALE OF A TUB.
FTER fo wide a compaſs as I have
wandered, I do now gladly over-
take, and cloſe in with my fubject, and
ſhall henceforth hold on with it an even
pace to the end of my journey, except fome
beautiful profpect appears within fight of
my way; whereof though at preſent I
have neither warning nor expectation, yet
upon fuch an accident, come when it will,
I ſhall beg my reader's favour and com-
pany, allowing me to conduct him through
it along with myſelf. For in writing, it
is as in travelling; if a man is in hafte to
be at home (which I acknowledge to be
none of my cafe, having never fo little
buſineſs, as when I am there) if his horſe
be tired with long riding, and ill ways,
or be naturally a jade, I adviſe him clearly
is there any mention of acha-
moth, or its qualities, fo that
this is nothing but amuſement,
and a ridicule of dark, unin-
telligible writers; only the
words, a cujus lacrymis, &c.
are, as we have ſaid, tranſcrib-
VOL. I.
ed from Irenæus, though I
know not from what part. I
believe one of the author's de-
figns was to fet curious men a
hunting through indexes, and
enquiring for books out of the
common road.
P
*
to
210
A TALE OF A TU B.
to make the ftraiteft and the commoneft
road, be it ever fo dirty: but then ſurely
we muſt own ſuch a man to be a ſcurvy
companion at beft; he fpatters himſelf
and his fellow-travellers at every ſtep:
all their thoughts, and wiſhes, and con-
verſation, turn intirely upon the fubject
of their journey's end; and at every ſplaſh
and plunge, and ftumble, they heartily
wiſh one another at the devil.
On the other fide, when a traveller and
his horſe are in heart and plight; when
his purfe is full, and the day before him;
he takes the road only where it is clean and
convenient; entertains his company there
as agreeably as he can; but, upon the
firft occafion, carries them along with
him to every delightful ſcene in view, whe-
ther of art, of nature, or of both; and if
they chance to refuſe, out of ftupidity
or wearinefs; let them jog on by them-
felves and be d-n'd; he'll overtake them
at the next town; at which arriving, hẹ
rides furiouſly through; the men, women
and children run out to gaze; a hundred
* noify curs runbarking after him, of which
* By theſe are meant what the author calls, the true critics,
page 103.
if
A TALE OF A TUB.
211
if he honours the boldeft with a lab of
his whip, it is rather out of fport than re-
venge: but ſhould fome fourer mongrel
dare too near an approach, he receives a
falute on the chaps by an accidental ſtroke
from the courfer's heels, nor is any ground
loft by the blow, which fends him yelp-
ing and limping home.
I now proceed to fum up the fingular
adventures of my renowned Jack; the
ftate of whofe difpofitions and fortunes
the careful reader does, no doubt, moſt
exactly remember, as I laft parted with
them in the conclufion of a former fection.
Therefore his next care muft be from two
of the foregoing to extract a ſcheme of
notions, that may beft fit his underſtand-
ing for a true reliſh of what is to enfue.
JACK had not only calculated the firſt
revolution of his brain fo prudently, as to
give rife to that epidemic fect of Æolifts,
but fucceeding alfo into a new and ftrange
variety of conceptions, the fruitfulneſs of
his imagination led him into certain noti-
ons, which, although in appearance very
unaccountable, were not without their
myſteries and their meanings, nor wanted
followers
P 2
212
A TALE OF A TU B.
followers to countenance and improve
them. I ſhall therefore be extremly care-
ful and exact in recounting fuch material
paffages of this nature, as I have been able
to collect, either from undoubted tradi-
tion, or indefatigable reading, and ſhall
deſcribe them as graphically as it is poffi-
ble, and as far as notions of that heighth
and latitude can be brought within the
compaſs of a pen. Nor do I at all queſtion
but they will furniſh plenty of noble mat-
ter for fuch, whoſe converting imaginati-
ons diſpoſe them to reduce all things into
types; who can make ſhadows, no thanks
to the fun; and then mould them into ſub-
ſtances, no thanks to philoſophy; whoſe
peculiar talent lies in fixing tropes and al-
legories to the letter, and refining what is
literal into figure and myſtery.
JACK had provided a fair copy of his
father's will, engroffed in form upon a
large ſkin of parchment; and reſolving
to act the part of a moſt dutiful ſon, he
became the fondeft creature of it ima-
ginable. For although, as I have often told
the reader, it confifted wholly in certain
plain, eafy directions about the manage-
ment
1
Į
A TALE OF A TU B.
213
ment and wearing their coats, with lega-
cies and penalties in cafe of obedience or
neglect; yet he began to entertain a fancy
that the matter was deeper and darker,
and therefore muft needs have a great deal
more of myſtery at the bottom. Gentle-
men, faid he, I will prove this very fkin of
parchment to be meat, drink, and cloth, to
be the philofopher's ftone, and the univerfal
medicine. + In confequence of which rap-
tures, he refolved to make uſe of it in the
moſt neceffary, as well as the moſt paltry
occafions of life. He had a way of work-
ing it into any ſhape he pleaſed; ſo that it
ferved him for a night-cap when he went
to bed, and for an umbrella in rainy
weather. He would lap a piece of it about
a fore toe, or, when he had fits, burn two
inches under his nofe; or, if any thing
lay heavy on his ftomach, ſcrape off, and
ſwallow as much of the powder as would
lie on a filver penny, they were all infal-
lible remedies. With analogy to theſe
refinements, his common talk and conver-
+ The author here lafhes fcripture phrafe on all occa-
thoſe pretenders to purity, who fions.
place fo much merit in ufing
P 3
fation,
214
A TALE OF A TU B.
fation, ran wholly in the phraſe of his
will, and he circumfcribed the utmoſt of
his eloquence within that compaſs, not
daring tolet flip a ſyllable without authori
ty from thence. Once, at a ftrange houſe,
he was fuddenly taken fhort upon an
urgent juncture, whereon it may not be
allowed too particularly to dilate; and
being not able to call to mind, with that
fuddenneſs the occafion required, an au-
thentic phraſe for demanding the way to
the back-fide, he chofe rather, as the moſt
prudent courſe, to incur the penalty in
fuch caſes ufually annexed. Neither was
it poffible for the united rhetoric of man-
kind to prevail with him to make himſelf
clean again; becauſe, having confulted
the will upon this emergency, he met
with a † paffage near the bottom (whether
* The protestant diffenters
ufe fcripture phrafes in their
ferious difcourfes and compo-
fures, more than the church-
of-England men; accordingly
fack is introduced, making
his common talk and conver-
fation to run wholly in the
phrafe of his WILL. W.
Wotton.
+I cannot guess the author's
>
foifted
meaning here, which, I would
be very glad to know, becauſe
it feems to be of importance.
Ibid. Incurring the penalty
in fuch cafes ufually annexed,
wants no explanation. He
would not make himſelf clean,
becaufe having confulted the will
(i. e. the New Teftament) he
met with a paffage near the
bottom, i. e. in the 11th verfe
of
A TALE OF A TU B.
215
foiſted in by the tranſcriber, is not known)
which feemed to forbid it.
He made it a part of his religion never
to ſay grace to his meat, nor could all
+
the world perfuade him, as the common
phrafe is, to eat his victuals like a Chriftian.
He bore a ſtrange kind of appetite to ||
Snap-dragon, and to the livid fnuffs of a
burning candle, which he would catch
and ſwallow with an agility wonderful to
conceive; and by this procedure main-
tained a perpetual flame in his belly, which
iffuing in a glowing ſteam from both his
eyes, as well as his noftrils, and his mouth
made his head appear in a dark night like
the ſkull of an aſs, wherein a roguiſh boy
had conveyed a farthing candle, to the ter-
ror of his majesty's liege fubjects. There-
of the laſt Chapter of the Re-
velations, "He which is filthy,
"let him be filthy ftill." which
feem'd to forbid it. Whether
foifted in by the tranfcriber, is
added; becauſe this paragraph
is wanting in the Alexan-
drian MS. the oldeſt and moſt
authentick copy of the New
Teftament.
+ The flovenly way of re-
ceiving the facrament among
the fanatics.
This is a common phraſe
to expreſs eating cleanly, and
is meant for an invective a-
gainſt that indecent manner
among fome people in receiv-
ing the facrament; fo in the
lines before, which is to be un-
derſtood of the diffenters re-
fufing to kneel at the facra-
ment.
I cannot well find out the
author's meaning here, unleſs
it be the hot, untimely, blind
zeal of enthuſiaſts.
P 4
fore
216
A TALE OF A TUB.
fore he made ufe of no other expedient to
light himſelf home, but was wont to ſay,
that a wife man was his own lantern.
He would fhut his eyes as he walked
along the ſtreets, and if he happened to
bounce his head againſt a poft, or fall into
the kennel, as he feldom miffed either to
do one or both, he would tell the gibing
apprentices, who looked on, that be fub-
mitted with intire refignation, as to a trip,
or a blow of fate, with whom he found, by
long experience, how vain it was either to
wrestle or to cuff; and whoever durft un-
dertake to do either, would be ſure to come
off with a fwinging fall, or a bloody noſe.
It was ordained, faid he, fome few days
before the creation, that my nose and this
very poft fhould have a rencounter; and
therefore, nature thought fit to fend us
both into the world in the fame age, and to
make us country-men, and fellow citizens.
Now, had my eyes been open, it is very
likely, the bufinefs might have been a great
deal worfe; for how many a confounded flip
is daily got by man, with all his forefight
about him? befides the eyes of the under-
Standing fee beft, when those of the fenfes
!
are
A TALE OF A TUB.
217
:
are out of the way; and therefore, blind
men are obſerved to tread their steps with
much more caution, and conduct, and judg-
ment, than thoſe who rely with too much
confidence upon the virtue of the viſual nerve,
which every little accident ſhakes out of or-
der, and a drop, or a film can wholly dif
concert; like a lantern among a pack of
roaring bullies; when they scour the ſtreets,
expofing its owner, and itſelf, to outward
kicks and buffets, which both might have
eſcaped, if the vanity of appearing would
have fuffered them to walk in the dark. But
farther; if we examine the conduct of theſe
boafted lights, it will prove yet a great deal
worse than their fortune. It is true, I
have broke my nose against this poft, becauſe
fortune either forgot, or did not think it
convenient to twitch me by the elbow, and
give me notice to avoid it. But, let not this
encourage either the preſent age or poſterity
to trust their noſes into the keeping of their
eyes, which
may prove the fairest way of
lofing them for good and all. For, Oye eyes,
ye blind guides; miferable guardians are
ye of our frail nofes; ye, I fay, who faſt-
en upon the first precipice in view, and
}..
then
218
A TALE OF A TUB.
then tow our wretched willing bodies after
you to the very brink of deſtruction: but,
ala! that brink is rotten, our feet flip, and
we tumble down prone into a gulph, with-
out one hofpitable ſhrub in the way to break
the fall; a fall, to which not any nofe of
mortal make is equal, except that of the
giant * Laurcalco, who was lord of the
filver bridge. Moft properly therefore, O
eyes, and with great juftice, may you be
compared to thoſe fooliſh lights, which con-
duct men through dirt and darkness, 'till
they fall into a deep pit, or a noiſom bog.
This I have produced, as a fcantling of
Jack's great eloquence, and the force of
his reaſoning upon fuch abftrufe matters.
He was, beſides, a perſon of great de-
fign and improvement in affairs of devoti-
on, having introduced a new deity, who
hath fince met with a vaft number of
worshippers; by fome called babel, by
others, chaos; who had an antient tem-
ple of Gothic ftructure upon Salisbury-
plain, famous for its fhrine, and celebra-
tion by pilgrims,
* Vide Don Quixote.
When
A TALE OF A TU B.
219
+ When he had fome roguiſh trick to
play, he would down with his knees, up
with his eyes, and fall to prayers, though
in the midft of the kennel. Then it was that
thofe, who underſtood his pranks, would
be fure to get far enough out of his
and whenever curiofity attracted ftrangers
to laugh, or to liften, he would of a fud-
den with one hand out with his gear, and
piſs full in their eyes, and with the other
all befpatter them with mud.
way;
+ In winter he went always loofe and
unbuttoned, and clad as thin as poffible,
to let in the ambient heat; and in fummer
lapped himſelf cloſe and thick to keep it
out.
In all revolutions of government, he
would make his court for the office of
hangman general; and in the exerciſe of
that dignity, wherein he was very dex-
trous, would make uſe of no § other viz-
ard, than a long prayer.
+ The villanies and cruel-
ties, committed by enthufiafts
and fanatics among us, were
all performed under the dif
guife of religion and long
prayers.
They affected differences
in habit and behaviour.
They are fevere perfecu-
tors, and all in a form of cant
and devotion.
$ Cromwel and his confede-
rates went, as they called it,
to feek God, when they re-
folved to murther the king.
He
220
A TALE OF A TU B.
He had a tongue fo mufculous and fub-
til, that he could twift it up into his noſe,
and deliver a ſtrange kind of ſpeech from
thence. He was alfo the firft in theſe
kingdoms, who began to improve the
Spanish accompliſhment of braying; and
having large ears, perpetually expofed
and arrected, he carried his art to fuch a
perfection, that it was a point of great
difficulty to diſtinguiſh, either by the
view or the found, between the original
and the copy.
He was troubled with a diſeaſe, reverſe
to that called the ftinging of the taran-
tula; and would run dog-mad at the
noiſe of muſic, eſpecially a pair of bag-
pipes. But he would cure himſelf again
by taking two or three turns in Westmin-
fter-ball, or Billingfgate, or in a boarding-
School, or the Royal-exchange, or a State
coffee-houſe.
He was a perſon that ‡ feared no colours,
but mortally hated all, and upon that ac-
+ This is to expofe our
diffenters averfion againſt in-
ftrumental mufic in churches.
W. Wotton.
They quarrel at the moſt
innocent decency and orna-
ment, and defaced the ſtatues
and paintings on all the
churches in England.
count
A TALE OF A TUB.
221
count bore a cruel averfion againſt painters;
infomuch that in his paroxyfms, as he walk-
ed the ſtreets, he would have his pockets
loaden with ſtones to pelt at the figns.
Having, from this manner of living,
frequent occafion to wash himſelf, he
would often leap over head and ears into
water §, though it were in the midſt of the
winter, but was always obferved to come
out again much dirtier, if poffible, than
he went in.
He was the firft, that ever found out
the ſecret of contriving a || Soporiferous me-
dicine to be conveyed in at the ears; it
was a compound of fulphur, and balm of
Gilead, with a little pilgrim's falve.
He wore a large plaifter of artificial
cauftics on his ftomach, with the fervour
of which he could fet himſelf a groaning,
like the famous board upon application of
a red-hot iron.
‡ He would ſtand in the turning of a
§ Baptifm of adults by
plunging.
Fanatic preaching, com-
pofed either of hell and dam-
nation, or a fulfome defcrip-
tion of the joys of heaven,
both in fuch a dirty, naufeous
ftyle, as to be well refembled
to pilgrim's falve.
The fanatics have always
had a way of affecting to run
into perfecution, and count
vaft merit upon every little
hardſhip they fuffer.
Atreet,
222 A TALE OF A TUB.
ftreet, and, calling to thoſe who paffed
by, would cry to one, Worthy Sir, do me
the honour of a good flap in the chaps. To
another, Honeft friend, pray favour me
with a handfome kick on the arfe: Madam,
fball I intreat a fmall box on the ear from
your ladyfhip's fair hands? Noble captain
lend a reafonable thwack, for the love of
God, with that cane of yours over theſe poor
fhoulders. And when he had, by fuch
earneft folicitations, made a fhift to pro-
cure a baſting fufficient to fwell up his
fancy and his fides, he would return home
extremely comforted, and full of terrible
accounts of what he had undergone for the
public good. Obferve this ftroke, (faid he,
fhewing his bare fhoulders) a plaguy jani-
zary gave it me this very morning at feven
a-clock, as, with much ado, I was driving
off the great Turk. Neighbours, mind, this
broken head deferves a plaifter; had poor
Jack been tender of his noddle, you would
have ſeen the pope, and the french king,
long before this time of day, among your wives
and your ware-houſes. Dear chriftians,
the great mogul was come as far as White-
chapel, and you may thank these poor fides,
that
A TALE OF A TUB.
223
that he hath not (God bless us) already fwal-
lowed up man, woman, and child.
+ It was highly worth obferving, the
fingular effects of that averfion, or antipa-
thy, which Jack and his brother Peter
ſeemed, even to an affectation, to bear
againſt each other. Peter had lately done
fome rogueries, that forced him to abfcond;
and he feldom ventured to ftir out before
night for fear of bayliffs. Their lodgings
were at the two moſt diſtant parts of the
town from each other; and whenever
their occafions or humours called them
abroad, they would make choice of the
oddeſt unlikely times, and moſt uncouth
rounds, they could invent, that they might
be fure to avoid one another: yet, after
all this, it was their perpetual fortune to
meet. The reaſon of which is eafy enough
to apprehend; for, the phrenzy and the
ſpleen of both having the fame foundation,
+ The papifts and fanatics,
though they appear the moſt
averſe againſt each other, yet
bear a near reſemblance in
many things, as hath been ob-
ſerved by learned men.
Ibid. The agreement of our
diffenters and the papifts, in
that which biſhop Stillingfleet
called, the fanaticifm of the
church of Rome, is ludicrously
defcribed for feveral pages to-
gether, by Jack's likeneſs to
Peter, and their being often
miſtaken for each other, and
their frequent meetings when
they leaft intended it. W.
Watton.
we
224
A TALE OF A TUB.
we may look upon them as two pair of
compaffes, equally extended, and the fix-
ed foot of each remaining in the fame
center; which, though moving contrary
ways at firſt, will be fure to encounter
fomewhere or other in the circumference.
Beſides, it was among the great misfor-
tunes of Jack to bear a huge perfonal
reſemblance with his brother Peter. Their
humour and difpofitions were not only
the ſame, but there was a cloſe analogy in
their ſhape and fize, and their mien. In-
fomuch, as nothing was more frequent
than for a bayliff to feize Jack by the
fhoulders, and cry, Mr. Peter, you are
the king's prifoner. Or, at other times,
for one of Peter's nearest friends to accoft
Jack with open arms, Dear Peter, I am
glad to fee thee; pray fend me one of your
beft medicines for the worms. This, we may
fuppofe, was a mortifying return of thoſe
pains and proceedings, Jack had laboured
in fo long; and finding, how directly
oppofite all his endeavours had anſwered
to the fole end and intention, which he
had propoſed to himſelf; how could it
avoid having terrible effects upon a head
and
A TALE OF A TUB.
225
and heart fo furniſhed as his? however,
the poor remainders of his coat bore all the
puniſhment; the orient fun never entered
upon his diurnal progreſs without miffing
a piece of it. He hired a taylor to ſtitch
up the collar fo clofe, that it was ready to
choak him, and ſqueefed out his eyes at
fuch a rate, as one could fee nothing but
the white. What little was left of the
main fubftance of the coat, he rubbed
every day for two hours againſt a rough-
caft wall, in order to grind away the rem
nants of lace and embroidery; but at the
fame time went on with fo much violence,
that he proceeded a heathen philofopher.
Yet after all he could do of this kind, the
fuccefs continued ftill to diſappoint his
expectation. For, as it is the nature of
rags, to bear a kind of mock refemblance
to finery; there being a fort of fluttering
appearance in both, which is not to be
diſtinguiſhed at a diſtance, in the dark, or
by fhort-fighted eyes: fo, in thofe junc-
tures, it fared with Jack and his tatters,
that they offered to the firſt view a ridicu-
lous flaunting, which, affifting the reſem-
blance in perſon and air, thwarted all his
VOL. I.
2
projects
226 A TALE OF A TU B.
projects of feparation, and left ſo near a
fimilitude between them, as frequently
deceived the very diſciples and followers
of both.
Defunt non-
nulla.
*
*
*
The old fclavonian proverb faid well,
that it is with men, as with affes; whoever
would keep them faft, must find a very good
bold at their ears. Yet I think, we may
affirm, that it hath been verified by re-
peated experience, that,
Effugiet tamen hæc fceleratus vincula
Proteus.
It is good therefore, to read the max-
ims of our anceſtors with great allowances
to times and perfons: for, if we look into
primitive records, we fhall find, that no
revolutions have been fo great, or fo fre-
quent, as thofe of human ears. In former
days, there was a curious invention to
catch and keep them; which, I think,
we may juftly reckon among the artes per-
ditæ:
A TALE OF A TUB.
227
dite: and how can it be otherwiſe, when
in theſe latter centuries the very ſpecies is
not only diminiſhed to a very lamentable
degree, but the poor remainder is alſo de-
generated fo far, as to mock our ſkilfuleft
tenure? For, if the only flitting of one
ear in a ftag hath been found fufficient to
propagate the defect through a whole
foreft; why fhould we wonder at the
greateſt confequences from fo many lop-
pings and mutilations, to which the ears
of our fathers, and our own, have been
of late fo much expofed. It is true indeed
that, while this island of ours was under
the dominion of grace, many endeavours
were made to improve the growth of ears
once more among us. The proportion of
largeneſs was not only looked upon as an
ornament of the outward man, but as a
type of grace in the inward. Befides, it is
held by naturalifts, that if there be a
protuberancy of parts, in the fuperior re-
gion of the body, as in the ears and noſe,
there muſt be a parity alſo in the inferior:
and therefore in that truly pious age the
males in every aſſembly, according as
they
were gifted, appeared very forward in
expofing
228
A TALE OF A TUB.
expofing their ears to view, and the re-
gions about them; becauſe* Hippocrates
tells us, that when the vein behind the ear
happens to be cut, a man becomes an eunuch:
and the females were nothing backwarder
in beholding and edifying by them: where-
of thoſe who had already uſed the means,
looked about them with great concern,
in hopes of conceiving a fuitable offspring
by ſuch a proſpect: others, who ftood
candidates for benevolence, found there a
plentiful choice, and were fure to fix upon
fuch as diſcovered the largeſt ears, that
the breed might not dwindle between
them. Laftly, the devouter fifters, who
looked upon all extraordinary dilatations
of that member, as protrufions of zeal,
or fpiritual excrefcencies, were fure to
honour every head they fat upon, as if
they had been marks of grace; but efpecial-
ly, that of the preacher, whofe ears were
ufually of the prime magnitude; which,
upon that account, he was very frequent
and exact in expofing with all advantages
to the people; in his rhetorical paroxyfms
turning fometimes to hold forth the one,
* Lib. de aëre, locis & aquis.
and
A TALE OF A TU B.
229
and fometimes to hold forth the other:
from which cuftom, the whole operation
of preaching is to this very day, among
their profeffors, ftiled by the phraſe of
holding forth.
Such was the progreſs of the faints for
advancing the ſize of that member; and
it is thought, the ſucceſs would have been
every way anſwerable, if, in procefſs of
time, a † cruel king had not aroſe, who
raiſed a bloody perfecution againſt all ears
above a certain ſtandard: upon which,
fome were glad to hide their flouriſhing
fprouts in a black border, others crept
wholly under a periwig; fome were flit,
others cropped, and a great number fliced
off to the ftumps. But of this more
hereafter in my general history of ears;
which I defign very ſpeedily to beſtow
upon the public.
From this brief furvey of the falling
ftate of ears in the laſt age, and the ſmall
care had to advance their antient growth
in the preſent, it is manifeft, how little
reaſon we can have to rely upon a hold fo
diffenting teachers that would
not conform.
+ This was king Charles
the Second, who, at his re-
ftauration, turned out all the
Q 3
fhort,
230
A TALE OF A TUB.
fhort, fo weak, and fo flippery; and that
whoever defires to catch mankind faft,
muſt have recourfe to fome other methods,
Now, he that will examine human nature
with circumfpection enough, may dif
cover ſeveral handles, whereof the fix
fenfes afford one apiece, befide a great
number that are ſcrewed to the paſſions,
and fome few riveted to the intellect.
Among theſe laſt curiofity is one, and, of
all others, affords the firmeft grafp: curiofi-
ty, that fpur in the fide, that bridle in the
mouth, that ring in the noſe, of a lazy
and impatient, and a grunting reader. By
this handle it is, that an author ſhould
ſeize upon his readers; which as foon as
he hath once compaffed, all refiſtance and
ftruggling are in vain; and they become
his priſoners as clofe as he pleaſes, till
wearinefs or dulnefs force him to let go
his gripe.
And therefore, I, the author of this
miraculous treatiſe, having hitherto be-
yond expectation maintained by the afore-
faid handle a firm hold upon my gentle
readers; it is with great reluctance, that
↑ Including Scaliger's.
I am
A TALE OF A TUB.
23i
I am at length compelled to remit my
graſp; leaving them in the perufal of what
remains to that natural ofcitancy inherent
in the tribe. I can only affure thee, cour-
teous reader, for both our comforts, that
my concern is altogether equal to thine,
for my unhappineſs in lofing, or miſlay-
ing among my papers the remaining part
of theſe memoirs; which confifted of ac-
cidents, turns, and adventures, both new,
agreeable, and furpriſing; and therefore
calculated, in all due points, to the deli-
cate taſte of this our noble age. But, alas!
with my utmoſt endeavours, I have been
able only to retain a few of the heads.
Under which, there was a full account,
how Peter got a protection out of the King's-
bench; and of a reconcilement between
Jack and him, upon a defign they had
in a certain rainy night to trepan brother
In the reign of king
James the Second, the prefby-
terians by the king's invita-
tion joined with the papifts,
against the church of England,
and addreffed him for repeal
of the penal-laws and teft.
The king, by his difpenfing
power, gave liberty of con-
fcience, which both papifts
and preſbyterians made ufe of;
but, upon the revolution, the
papiſts being down of courſe,
the prefbyterians-freely conti-
nued their affemblies, by vir-
tue of king James's indul-
gence, before they had a tole-
ration by law. This I believe.
the author means by Jack's
ftealing Peter's protection, and
making uſe of it himſelf.
Martin
232 A TALE OF A TUB.
‡
Martin into a ſpunging-houſe, and there
ftrip him to the ſkin. How Martin, with
much ado, fhewed them both a fair pair
of heels. How a new warrant came out
againſt Peter; upon which, how Jack
left him in the lurch, ftole bis protection,
and made ufe of it bimfelf. How Jack's
tatters came into faſhion in court and city;
how he got upon a great horfe, and eat
cuftard. But the particulars of all theſe
with feveral others, which have now flid
out of my memory, are loft beyond all
hopes of recovery. For which misfortune,
leaving my readers to condole with each
other, as far as they fhall find it to agree
with their feveral conftitutions; but con-
juring them by all the friendſhip that hath
paffed between us, from the title-page to
this, not to proceed fo far as to injure their
healths for an accident paft remedy; I
now go on to the ceremonial part of an
accompliſhed writer, and therefore, by a
courtly modern, leaft of all others to be
omitted.
+ Sir Humphrey Edwyn, a
prefbyterian, was fome years
ago lord-mayor of London, and
had the infolence to go in his
formalities to a conventicle,
with the enfigns of his office.
+ Cuftard is a famous difh
at a lord-mayor's feaft.
THE
N°7.
P.232.
Pwww
J.Müller in.del. et Sci
+10
( 233 )
Go
THE CONCLUSION.
OING too long is a cauſe of abortion
as effectual, though not fo frequent,
as going too fport; and holds true efpecial-
ly in the labours of the brain, Well fare
the heart of that noble * jefuit, who firft
adventured to confefs in print, that books
muſt be fuited to their ſeveral ſeaſons, likę
drefs, and diet, and diverfions; and bet-
ter fare our noble nation, for refining
upon this among other french modes. I
am living faft to ſee the time, when a book
that miffes its tide, fhall be neglected,
as the moon by day, or like mackarel a
week after the feafon. No man hath more
nicely obferved our climate, than the
bookfeller who bought the copy of this
work; he knows to a tittle, what fubjects
will beſt go off in a dry year, and which
it is proper to expoſe foremoſt, when the
weather-glafs is fallen to much rain. When
he had feen this treatife, and confulted
his almanac upon it, he gave me to under-
ftand, that he had manifeftly confidered
* Pere d'Orleans.
the
$
234
THE CONCLUSION.
the two principal things, which were the
bulk, and the ſubject; and found, it would
never take, but after a long vacation, and
then only, in caſe it ſhould happen to be
a hard year for turnips. Upon which I de-
fired to know, confidering my urgent necef-
fities, what he thought might be accepta-
ble this month. He looked weftward, and
faid, I doubt we fhall have a fit of bad wea-
ther; however, if you could prepare fome
pretty little banter (but not in verfe) or a
fmall treatife upon the
it would run
like wild-fire. But, if it hold up, I have
already hired an author to write fomething
against Dr. Bentley, which I am fure, will
turn to account. ‡
At length we agreed upon this expedient;
that, when a cuftomer comes for one of
theſe, and defires in confidence to know
the author; he will tell him very privately,
as a friend, naming which ever of the wits
fhall happen to be that week in
vogue;
and if Durfey's laft play ſhould be in courſe
† When Dr. Prideaux
brought the copy of his con-
nexion of the Old and New
Teftament to the bookfeller,
he told him, it was a dry fub-
ject, and the printing could
not fafely be ventured unleſs
he could enliven it with a
little humour.
I had
THE CONCLUSION.
225
I had as lieve, he may be the perfon as
Congreve. This I mention, becauſe I am
wonderfully well acquainted with the pre-
fent reliſh of courteous readers; and have
often obſerved with fingular pleaſure, that
a fly, driven from a honey-pot, will im-
mediately with very good appetite alight,
and finiſh his meal on an excrement.
I have one word to fay upon the fubject
of profound writers, who are grown very
numerous of late; and, I know very well,
the judicious world is reſolved to lift me
in that number. I conceive therefore, as
to the buſineſs of being profound, that it
is with writers, as with wells; a perſon
with good eyes may fee to the bottom of
the deepeſt, provided any water be there;
and often, when there is nothing in the
world at the bottom, befides drynefs and
dirt, though it be but a yard and half un-
der ground, it ſhall paſs however for
wondrous deep, upon no wiſer a reafon
than becauſe it is wondrous dark.
I am now trying an experiment very
frequent among modern authors; which
is, to write upon nothing: when the ſub-
ject is utterly exhaufted to let the pen ſtill
move
236 THE CONCLUSION.
move on; by fome called, the ghoſt of
wit, delighting to walk after the death of
its body. And to fay the truth, there
feems to be no part of knowledge in fewer
hands, than that of difcerning when to
have done. By the time that an author
hath written out a book, he and his readers
are become old acquaintants, and grow
very loth to part; fo that I have fometimes
known it to be in writing, as in viſiting,
where the ceremony of taking leave has
employed more time than the whole con-
verfation before. The conclufion of a trea-
tiſe reſembles the conclufion of human life,
which hath ſometimes been compared to
the end of a feaſt; where few are fatisfied to
depart, ut plenus vitæ conviva: for men will
fit down after the fulleft meal, though it
be only to doze, or to fleep out the reſt of
the day. But, in this latter, I differ ex-
tremely from other writers; and fhall be
too proud, if, by all my labours, I can
have any ways contributed to the repoſe of
mankind in + times fo turbulent and un-
quiet as theſe. Neither do I think fuch an
employment ſo very alien from the office
+ This was written before was figned in Sept. 1697.
the peace of Ryfwick, which
of
THE CONCLUSION.
237
of a wit, as fome would fuppofe. For
among a very polite nation in ‡ Greece,
there were the fame temples built and con-
fecrated to fleep and the mufes, between
which two deities they believed the ſtrict-
eft friendſhip was eſtabliſhed.
I have one concluding favour to requeſt
of my reader; that he will not expect to
be equally diverted and informed by every
line, or every page of this difcourfe; but
give fome allowance to the author's fpleen,
and fhort fits or intervals of dulnefs, as
well as his own; and lay it feriouſly to
his conſcience, whether, if he were walk-
ing the ſtreets in dirty weather, or a rainy
day, he would allow it fair dealing in
folks at their eafe from a window to cri-
ticiſe his gait, and ridicule his dreſs at fuch
a juncture.
In my difpofure of employments of the
brain, I have thought fit to make inven-
tion the mafter, and to give method, and
reaſon, the office of its lacqueys. The
cauſe of this diftribution was, from ob-
ferving it my peculiar cafe to be often
under a temptation of being witty upon
Trezenii, Paufan. 1. 2.
occafions,
238 THE CONCLUSION.
occafions, where I could be neither wife
nor found, nor any thing to the matter in
hand. And, I am too much a fervant of
the modern way to neglect any fuch op-
portunities, whatever pains or improprie-
ties I may be at to introduce them. For
I have obferved, that from a laborious
collection of feven hundred thirty eight
flowers, and fining hints of the best mo-
dern authors, digefted with great read-
ing into my book of common-places; I
have not been able after five years to
draw, hook, or force into common con-
verſation any more than a dozen. Of
which dozen, the one moiety failed of
fuccefs, by being dropped among unfuit-
able company; and the other coft me fo
many ſtrains, and traps, and ambages to
introduce, that I at length reſolved to give
it over. Now, this diſappointment (to
diſcover a fecret) I muft own, gave me
the firſt hint of ſetting up for an author;
and I have fince found among fome
par-
ticular friends, that it is become a very
general complaint, and has produced the
fame effects upon many others. For, I
have remarked many a towardly word to
be
THE CONCLUSION.
239
be wholly neglected or defpifed in difcourfe,
which hath paffed very ſmoothly, with
fome confideration and eſteem, after its
preferment and fanction in print. But
now, fince by the liberty and encourage-
ment of the preſs, I am grown abſolute
mafter of the occafions and opportunities,
to expoſe the talents I have acquired; I
already diſcover, that the issues of my ob-
fervanda begin to grow too large for the
receipts. Therefore, I fhall here pauſe a
while, till I find, by feeling the world's
pulſe, and my own, that it will be of ab-
folute neceffity for us both, to reſume
my pen.
:
FINI S.
*
A
FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT,
OF THE
BATTLE
FOUGHT LAST FRIDAY,
BETWEEN THE
ANTIENT and the MODERN
BOOK S
IN
ST. JAMES'S LIBRARY.
VOL. I.
R
THE
BOOK SELLER
TOTH E
READER.
THE following difcourfe, as it is un-
queftionably of the ſame author, ſo
it ſeems to have been written about the
ſame time with the former; I mean, the
year 1697, when the famous diſpute was
on foot about antient and modern learning.
The controverſy took its rife from an effay
of Sir William Temple's upon that ſubject;
which was anſwered by W. Wotton, B.D.
with an appendix by Dr. Bentley, endea-
vouring to deftroy the credit of fop and
Phalaris for authors, whom Sir William
Temple had in the effay before-mentioned
highly commended. In that appendix
the doctor falls hard upon a new edition
of Phalaris, put out by the honourable
Charles Boyle (now Earl of Orrery) to
which Mr. Boyle replied at large with
great learning and wit; and the doctor
volumi-
R 2
244
TO THE READER.
voluminously rejoined. In this difpute,
the town highly refented to fee a perfon
of Sir William Temple's character and
merits roughly uſed by the two reverend
gentlemen aforefaid, and without any
manner of provocation. At length, there
appearing no end of the quarrel, our
author tells us, that the BOOKS in St.
James's library, looking upon themſelves
as parties principally concerned, took up
the controverſy, and came to a decifive
battle; but the manufcript by the injury
of fortune or weather being in ſeveral places
imperfect, we cannot learn to which fide
the victory fell.
I muſt warn the reader to beware of
applying to perfons, what is here meant
only of books in the moſt literal ſenſe.
So, when Virgil is mentioned, we are not
to underſtand the perfon of a famous poet
called by that name; but only certain
fheets of paper, bound up in leather,
containing in print the works of the faid
poet: and fo of the reſt,
THE
THE
PREFACE
OF THE
AUTHOR.
SAT
ATYR is a fort of glaſs, wherein be-
holders do generally difcover every
body's face but their own; which is the
chief reafon for that kind reception it
meets with in the world, and that ſo very
few are offended with it. But if it fhould
happen otherwiſe, the danger is not great;
and I have learned from long experience
never to apprehend miſchief from thoſe
underſtandings, I have been able to pro-
voke: for, anger and fury, though they
add ſtrength to the finews of the body, yet
are found to relax thofe of the mind, and
to render all its efforts feeble and impo-
tent.
There is a brain, that will endure but
one fcumming: let the owner gather it
with difcretion, and manage his little ſtock
with huſbandry; but of all things let him
beware of bringing it under the lab of his
R 3
betters;
246 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
betters; becauſe, that will make it all bub-
ble up into impertinence, and he will find
no new ſupply. Wit without knowledge
being a fort of cream, which gathers in a
night to the top, and by a ſkilful hand
may be foon whipped into froth; but
once ſcummed away, what appears under-
neath, will be fit for nothing, but to be
thrown to the hogs.
A FULL
Vol 1, P2 47.
Жаз
Müller, inv:del: et Sc.
A FULL AND TRUE
4.
ACCOUNT
OF THE
BATTLE
FOUGHT LAST FRIDAY, &c.
WE
HOEVER examines with due
circumfpection into the + annual
records of time, will find it remarked, that
war is the child of pride, and pride the
daughter of riches: the former of which
affertions may be foon granted; but one
cannot ſo eaſily fubfcribe to the latter:
for pride is nearly related to beggary and
want either by father or mother, and
fometimes by both; and, to ſpeak natural→
ly, it very feldom happens among men to
fall out, when all have enough; invafions
uſually travelling from north to fouth, that
is to fay, from poverty to plenty. The
↑ Riches produceth pride;
pride is war's ground, &c.
Vid. Ephem. de Mary Clarke;
opt. edit.-now called Wing's
fheet almanack, and printed
by J. Roberts for the com-
pany of Stationers.
R 4
moft
248
THE BATTLE A
moſt antient and natural grounds of quar
rels are luft and avarice; which, though
we may allow to be brethren or collateral
branches of pride, are certainly the iffues
of want. For, to fpeak in the phraſe of
writers upon politics, we may obferve in
the republic of dogs, which in its original
feems to be an inftitution of the many, that
the whole ſtate is ever in the profoundeſt
peace after a full meal; and, that civil
broils ariſe among them, when it happens
for one great bone to be feized on by fome
leading dog, who either divides it among
the few, and then it falls to an oligarchy,
or keeps it to himſelf, and then it runs up
to a tyranny. The fame reaſoning alfo
holds place among them in thoſe diffenfi-
ons, we behold upon a turgefcency in any
of their females. For, the right of poffef-
fion lying in common (it being impoffible
to eſtabliſh a property in fo delicate a cafe)
jealoufies and fufpicions do fo abound,
that the whole common-wealth of that
ftreet is reduced to a manifeft ftate of war,
of every citizen againſt every citizen; till
ſome one of more courage, conduct, or
fortune than the reft, feizes and enjoys the
prize:
OF THE BOOKS.
249
prize: upon which naturally ariſes plenty
of heart-burning, and envy, and fnarling
againſt the happy dog. Again, if we look
upon any of theſe republics engaged in a
foreign war either of invafion or defence,
we ſhall find, the fame reaſoning will
ferve, as to the grounds and occafions of
each; and that poverty, or want, in fome
degree or other, (whether real, or in opini-
on, which makes no alteration in the cafe)
has a great ſhare, as well as pride, on
the part of the aggreffor.
Now, whoever will pleaſe to take this
ſcheme, and either reduce or adapt it to
an intellectual ftate, or common-wealth
of learning, will foon diſcover the firſt
ground of diſagreement between the two
great parties at this time in arms; and
may form juſt conclufions upon the merits
of either cauſe. But the iffue or events
of this war are not ſo eaſy to conjecture at :
for, the preſent quarrel is ſo inflamed by
fo
the warm heads of either faction, and the
pretenſions ſomewhere or other fo exorbi-
tant, as not to admit the leaft overtures of
accommodation. This quarrel firſt began,
as I have heard it affirmed by an old dwel-
ler
250
THE BATTLE
ler in the neighbourhood, about a fmall
fpot of ground, lying and being upon one
of the two tops of the hill Parnaffus; the
higheſt and largeſt of which had, it feems,
been time out of mind in quiet poffeffion
of certain tenants called the antients; and
the other was held by the moderns. But
theſe, difliking their preſent ſtation, ſent
certain ambaſſadors to the antients, com→
plaining of a great nuifance; how the
height of that part of Parnaffus quite
fpoiled the profpect of theirs, eſpecially
towards the east; and therefore, to avoid
a war, offered them the choice of this
alternative; either that the antients would
pleaſe to remove themfelves and their
effects down to the lower fummity, which
the moderns would gracioufly furrender to
them, and advance in their place; or elſe,
that the faid antients will give leave to
the moderns to come with fhovels and
mattocks, and level the ſaid hill, as low
as they fhall think it convenient. To which
the antients made anfwer; how little they
expected fuch a meffage as this from a
colony, whom they had admitted out of
their own free grace to fo near a neighbour
hood.
OF THE BOOKS.
251
hood. That, as to their own feat, they
were aborigines of it, and therefore to talk
with them of a removal or furrender was
a language they did not underſtand. That,
if the height of the hill on their fide ſhorten-
ed the profpect of the moderns, it was a
difadvantage they could not help, but de-
fired them to confider, whether that in-
jury (if it be any) were not largely recom-
penſed by the ſhade and fhelter it afforded
them. That, as to the levelling or dig
ging down, it was either folly or igno-
rance to propoſe it, if they did, or did not
know, how that fide of the hill was an
intire rock, which would break their tools
and hearts without any damage to itſelf.
That, they would therefore adviſe the
moderns rather to raiſe their own fide of
the hill, than dream of pulling down that
of the antients; to the former of which
they would not only give licence, but alfo
largely contribute. All this was rejected
by the moderns with much indignation,
who ftill infifted upon one of the two ex-
pedients; and fo this difference broke out
into a long and obftinate war, maintained
on the one part by refolution, and by the
courage
252
THE BATTLE
courage of certain leaders and allies; but
on the other by the greatneſs of their num-
ber, upon all defeats affording continual
recruits. In this quarrel whole rivulets of
ink have been exhauſted, and the virulence
of both parties enormously augmented.
Now, it muſt here be underſtood, that
ink is the great miffive weapon in all bat-
tles of the learned, which conveyed through
a fort of engine, called a quill, infinite
numbers of theſe are darted at the enemy
by the valiant on each fide, with equal
fkill and violence, as if it were an engage-
ment of porcupines. This malignant li-
quor was compounded by the engineer,
who invented it, of two ingredients, which
are gall and coperas, by its bitterneſs and
venom to fuit in fome degree, as well as
to foment, the genius of the combatants.
And as the Gracians after an engagment,
when they could not agree about the vic-
tory, were wont to fet up trophies on both
fides, the beaten party being content to
be at the fame expence to keep itſelf in
countenance (a laudable and antient cuf-
tom, happily revived of late, in the art of
war) fo the learned, after a fharp and
bloody
OF THE BOOKS.
253
bloody difpute, do on both fides hang out
their trophies too, which ever comes by
the worſt. Theſe throphies have largely
infcribed on them the merits of the cauſe;
a full impartial account of fuch a battle,
and how the victory fell clearly to the par-
ty, that ſet them up. They are known
to the world under feveral names; as, dif
putes, arguments, rejoinders, brief confi-
derations, anfwers, replies, remarks, re-
flections, objections, confutations. For a
very few days they are fixed up in all
public places, either by themſelves or their
repreſentatives, for paffengers to gaze at;
gazeat;
from whence the chiefeft and largeſt are
removed to certain magazines, they call
libraries, there to remain in a quarter
purpoſely affigned them, and from thence-
forth begin to be called books of controverfy.
*
In theſe books is wonderfully inftilled
and preſerved the ſpirit of each warrior,
while he is alive; and after his death, his
foul tranfmnigrates there to inform them.
This at leaſt is the more common opinion;
but I believe, it is with libraries, as with
other cœmeteries; where fome philofo-
*Their title-pages.
phers
254
THE BATTLE
phers affirm, that a certain fpirit, which
they call brutum hominis, hovers over the
monument, till the body is corrupted,
and turns to duft, or to worms, but then
vaniſhes or diffolves; fo, we may ſay, a
reſtleſs ſpirit haunts over every book, till
duft or worms have feized upon it; which
to ſome may happen in a few days, but to
others later: and therefore books of con-
troverfy, being of all others haunted by
the moſt diforderly fpirits, have always
been confined in a feparate lodge from
the reft; and for fear of mutual violence
againſt each other, it was thought prudent
by our anceſtors to bind them to the
peace with ſtrong iron chains. Of which
invention the original occafion was this:
when the works of Scotus firft came out,
they were carried to a certain great library
and had lodgings appointed them; but
this author was no fooner fettled, than he
went to vifit his mafter Ariftotle; and
there both concerted together to ſeize
Plato by main force, and turn him out
from his antient ſtation among the divines,
where he had peaceably dwelt near eight
hundred years. The attempt fucceeded,
and
OF THE BOOKS.
255
and the two ufurpers have reigned ever
fince in his ftead: but to maintain quiet
for the future it was decreed, that all pole-
mics of the larger fize ſhould be held faft
with a chain.
}
By this expedient the public peace of
libraries might certainly have been pre-
ferved, if a new fpecies of controverfial
books had not arofe of late years, inftinct
with a moſt malignant ſpirit from the war
above-mentioned between the learned a-
bout the higher fummity of Parnaffus.
When theſe books were firft admitted
into the public libraries, I remember, to
have-faid upon occafion to feveral perfons
concerned, how I was fure, they would
create broils where-ever they came, un-
lefs a world of care were taken: and
therefore I adviſed, that the champions
of each ſide ſhould be coupled together,
or otherwiſe mixed, that, like the blend-
ing of contrary poiſons, their malignity
might be employed among themſelves.
And it feems, I was neither an ill pro-
phet, nor an ill counſellor; for it was no-
thing elſe but the neglect of this caution,
which gave occafion to the terrible fight,
that
256
THE BATTLE
that happened on Friday laft between the
antient and modern books in the king's libra-
ry. Now, becauſe the talk of this battle
is fo freſh in every body's mouth, and the
expectation of the town fo great to be in-
formed in the particulars; I, being pof-
feffed of all qualifications requifite in
an hiſtorian, and retained by neither party,
have refolved to comply with the urgent
importunity of my friends, by writing
down a full impartial account thereof.
The guardian of the regal library, a
perfon of great valour, but chiefly re-
nowned for his * humanity, had been a
fierce champion for the moderns; and in
an engagement upon Parnaffus had vowed,
with his own hands, to knock down two
of the antient chiefs, who guarded a ſmall
paſs on the fuperior rock; but, endea-
vouring to climb up, was cruelly obftru&t-
ed by his own unhappy weight, and ten-
dency towards his center; a quality, to
which thoſe of the modern party are ex-
* The honourable Mr.
Boyle, in the preface to his
edition of Phalaris, fays, he
was refuſed a manufcript by
the library-keeper, pro folita
humanitate fuâ.
Ibid. Doctor Bentley was
then library keeper: the two
antients were Phalaris and
Æsop.
treme
OF THE BOOKS.
257
treme fubject; for, being light-headed,
they have, in fpeculation, a wonderful
agility, and conceive nothing too high
for them to mount; but, in reducing to
practice, diſcover a mighty preffure about
their pofteriors and their heels. Having
thus failed in his defign, the diſappointed
champion bore a cruel rancour to the an-
tients, which he refolved to gratify by fhew-
ing all marks of his favour to the books of
their adverſaries, and lodging them in the
faireſt apartments; when at the fame time
whatever book had the boldneſs to own it-
felf for an advocate of the antients, was
buried alive in fome obfcure corner, and
threatened upon the leaſt diſpleaſure to be
turned out of doors. Befides, it fo hap-
pened, that about this time, there was a
ſtrange confufion of place among all the
books in the library; for which feveral rea-
ſons were affigned. Some imputed it to a
great heap of learned duft, which a per-
verfe wind blew off from a fhelf of moderns
into the keeper's eyes. Others affirmed,
he had a humour to pick the worms out
of the Schoolmen, and fwallow them frefh
and fafting; whereof fome fell
upon his
VOL. I.
S
Spleen,
258
THE BATTLE
Spleen, and fome climbed up into his head,
to the great perturbation of both. And
laftly, others maintained, that by walk-
ing much in the dark about the library
he had quite loft the fituation of it out of
his head; and therefore in replacing his
books he was apt to miſtake, and clap Des
Cartes next to Ariftotle; poor Plato had
got between Hobbes and the Seven wife
mafters, and Virgil was hemmed in with
Dryden on one fide, and Withers on the
other.
Mean while thoſe books, that were ad-
vocates for the moderns, chofe out one
from among them to make a progreſs
through the whole library, examine the
number and ſtrength of their party, and
concert their affairs. This meffenger per-
formed all things very induftriouſly, and
brought back with him a lift of their forces
in all fifty thouſand, confifting chiefly of
light horfe, heavy-armed foot, and mer-
cenaries: whereof the foot were in general
but forrily armed, and worfe clad: their
borfes large, but extremely out of cafe and
heart; however fome few, by trading a-
1
mong
OF THE BOOKS.
259
mong the antients, had furniſhed them-
felves tolerably enough.
While things were in this ferment, dif-
cord grew extremely high, hot words paf-
fed on both fides, and ill blood was plen-
tifully bred. Here a folitary antient, fqueef-
ed up among a whole fhelf of moderns,
offered fairly to diſpute the caſe, and to
prove by manifeſt reaſon, that the priority
was due to them from long poffeffion, and
in regard of their prudence, antiquity, and
above all their great merits toward the
moderns. But theſe denied the premiffes,
and ſeemed very much to wonder, how
the antients could pretend to infift upon
their antiquity, when it was fo plain (if
they went to that) that the moderns were
much the more † antient of the two. As
for any obligations they owed to the an-
tients, they renounced them all. It is
true, faid they, we are informed, fome few
of our party have been fo mean to borrow
their fubfiftence from you; but the reft, in-
finitely the greater number (and especially
we French and Engliſh) were fo far from
Stooping to fo baſe an example, that there ne-
+ According to the modern paradox.
S 2
ver
260
THE BATTLE
ver paffed, till this very hour, fix words be-
tween us. For, our horfes were of our own
breeding, our arms of our own forging, and
our cloaths of our own cutting out and few-
ing. Plato was by chance upon the next
ſhelf, and obferving thoſe that ſpoke to be
in the ragged plight mentioned a while ago;
their jades lean and foundered, their wea-
pons of rotten wood, their armour ruſty,
and nothing but rags underneath; he
laughed loud, and in his pleaſant way
fwore, by, he believed them.
Now, the moderns had not proceeded
in their late negotiation with fecrecy e-
nough to eſcape the notice of the enemy.
For thoſe advocates, who had begun the
quarrel by fetting firſt on foot the diſpute
of precedency, talked fo loud of coming
to a battle, that Temple happened to over-
hear them, and gave immediate intelli-
gence to the antients; who thereupon
drew up their ſcattered troops together,
refolving to act upon the defenfive: upon
which feveral of the moderns fled over to
their party, and among the reſt, Temple
himſelf. This Temple having been educated
and long converfed among the antients,
was
OF THE BOOKS.
261
was of all the moderns their greateſt favou-
rite, and became their greateſt champion.
Things were at this crifis, when a ma-
terial accident fell out. For, upon the
higheſt corner of a large window there
dwelt a certain ſpider, fwollen up to the
firſt magnitude by the deftruction of in-
finite number of flies, whofe fpoils lay
ſcattered before the gates of his palace,
like human bones before the cave of fome
giant. The avenues to his caſtle were
guarded with turn-pikes, and palifadoes,
all after the modern way of fortification.
After you had paſſed ſeveral courts, you
came to the center, wherein you might
behold the conftable himſelf in his own
lodgings, which had windows fronting to
each avenue, and ports to fally out upon
all occafions of prey or defence. In this
manfion he had for fome time dwelt in
peace and plenty, without danger to his
perfon by fwallows from above, or to his
palace by brooms from below: when it was
the pleaſure of fortune to conduct thither
a wandering bee, to whoſe curiofity a brok-
en pane in the glaſs had diſcovered itſelf;
and in he went; where expatiating a while,
S 3
he
262
THE BATTLE
he at laſt happened to alight upon one of
the outward walls of the Spider's citadel;
which yielding to the unequal weight,
funk down to the very foundation. Thrice
he endeavoured to force his paffage, and
thrice the center ſhook. The ſpider within
feeling the terrible convulfion, fuppofed
at firft, that nature was approaching to
her final diffolution; or elfe, that Beelze-
bub with all his legions was come to re-
venge the death of many thouſands of his
fubjects, whom his enemy had flain and
devoured. However, he at length vali-
antly refolved to iffue forth and meet his
fate. Mean while the bee had acquitted
himſelf of his toils, and poſted fecurely at
ſome diſtance was employed in cleanfing
his wings, and difengaging them from the
ragged remnants of the cobweb. By this
time the ſpider was adventured out, when
beholding the chafms, the ruins, and dila-
pidations of his fortreſs, he was very near
at his wit's end; he ftormed and fwore
like a mad-man, and fwelled till he was
ready to burſt. At length, cafting his
eye upon the bee, and wifely gathering
cauſes from events (for they knew each
other
OF THE BOOKS.
263
other by fight) a plague Split you, faid he,
for a giddy fon of a whore; is it you, with a
vengeance, that have made this litter here?
could not you look before you, and be d―n'd?
do you think I have nothing else to do (in the
devil's name) but to mend and repair after
your arfe? Good words, friend, faid the
bee, (having now pruned himſelf, and be-
ing diſpoſed to droll) I'll give you my hand
and word to come near your kennel no more;
I was never in fuch a confounded pickle,
Since I was born. Sirrah, replied the fpi-
der, if it were not for breaking an old cuftom
in our family, never to ftir abroad against
an enemy, I should come and teach you better
manners. I pray have patience, faid the bee,
or you will spend your fubftance, and for
aught I fee, you may ftand in need of it all
towards the repair of your houfe. Rogue,
rogue, replied the fpider, yet, methinks
you should have more respect to a perfon,
whom all the world allows to be fo much your
betters. By my troth, faid the bee, the
compariſon will amount to a very good jeft;
and you will do me a favour to let me know
the reafons, that all the world is pleaſed to
uſe in ſo hopeful a dispute. At this the fpi-
S 4
der,
264
THE BATTLE
der, having fwelled himſelf into the fize
and poſture of a difputant, began his
argument in the true fpirit of controverſy,
with reſolution to be heartily fcurrilous and
angry, to urge on his own reaſons with-
out the leaſt regard to the anſwers or ob-
jections of his oppofite; and fully prede→
termined in his mind againſt all conviction.
Not to difparage myſelf, ſaid he, by the
compariſon with fuch a rafcal; what art
thou but a vagabond without boufe or home,
without ftock or inheritance? born to no
poffeffion of your own, but a pair of wings
and a drone-pipe. Your livelihood is an uni-
verfal plunder upon nature; a freebooter
over fields and gardens; and, for the fake
of fealing, will rob a nettle as readily as a
violet. Whereas I am a domeftic animal
furniſhed with a native flock within myſelf.
This large caftle (to fhew my improvements
in the mathematics) is all built with my own
hands, and the materials extracted altoge
ther out of my own perſon.
4
I am glad, anfwered the bee, to hear
you grant at least, that I am come boneftly
by my wings and my voice; for then, it
feems, I am obliged to heaven alone for my
flights
OF THE BOOKS.
265
flights and my mufic; and providence
would never have beftowed on me two fuch
gifts without defigning them for the nobleft
ends. I vifit indeed all the flowers and blof-
foms of the field and garden; but whatever
I collect from thence, enriches myſelf, with-
out the leaft injury to their beauty, their
Smell, or their taste. Now, for you and
your skill in architecture and other mathe-
matics I have little to fay: in that building
of yours there might, for aught I know,
have been labour and method enough; but
by woful experience for us both it is plain,
the materials are naught; and I hope, you
will henceforth take warning, and confider
duration and matter as well as method
and art. You boaft indeed of being obliged
to no other creature, but of drawing and
Spinning out all from yourself; that is to fay,
if we may judge of the liquor in the veſſel by
what iffues out, you poffefs a good plentiful
Store of dirt and poifon in your breast; and,
though I would by no means leffen or diſ-
parage your genuine ftock of either, yet, I
doubt you are fomewhat obliged for an in-
creaſe of both to a little foreign affiftance.
Your inherent portion of dirt does not fail
of
266
THE BATTLE
of acquifitions by fweepings exhaled from be-
low; and one infect furnishes you with a fhare
of poison to destroy another. So that in fhort
the question comes all to this; whether is the
nobler being of the two, that which by a lazy
contemplation of four inches round, by an
over-weening pride, feeding and engender-
ing on itſelf, turns all into excrement and
venom; producing nothing at all, but fly-
bane and a cobweb: or that, which by an
univerfal range, with long fearch, much
Study, true judgment, and diftinction of
things, brings home honey and wax,
This diſpute was managed with ſuch
eagerneſs, clamour, and warmth, that the
two parties of books in arms below flood
filent a while, waiting in ſuſpenſe what
would be the iffue; which was not long
undetermined: for the bee, grown impa-
tient at ſo much lofs of time, fled ftrait
away to a bed of rofes, without looking
for a reply; and left the Spider like an
orator, collected in himſelf, and juſt pre-
pared to burſt out.
It happened upon this emergency, that
#fop broke filence firft. He had been of
late moſt barbarouſly treated by a ſtrange
effect
1
OF THE BOOKS.
267
who had
effect of the regent's humanity,
torn off his title-page, forely defaced one
half of his leaves, and chained him faft a-
mong a fhelf of moderns, Where foon dif-
covering how high the quarrel was like to
proceed, he tried all his arts, and turned
himſelf to a thouſand forms. At length
in the borrowed ſhape of an afs, the regent
miftook him for a modern; by which means
he had time and opportunity to eſcape to
the antients, juſt when the Spider and the
bee were entering into their conteft; to
which he gave his attention with a world
of pleaſure; and, when it was ended,
fwore in the loudest key, that in all his
life he had never known two cafes fo
parallel and adapt to each other, as that
in the window, and this upon the ſhelves.
The difputants, faid he, have admirably
managed the difpute between them, have
taken in the full ftrength of all that is to
be faid on both fides, and exhaufted the fub-
ftance of every argument pro and con. It
is but to adjuſt the reaſonings of both to the
prefent quarrel, then to compare and apply
+ Bentley, who denied the antiquity of Efop: fee note
P. 256,
the
268
THE BATTLE
the labours and fruits of each, as the bee
has learnedly deduced them; and we shall
find the conclufion fall plain and cloſe upon
the moderns and us. For, pray gentlemen,
was ever any thing fo modern as the fpider
in his air, his turns, and his paradoxes?
he argues in the behalf of you his brethren,
and himself, with many boastings of his na-
tive flock, and great genius; that he fpins
and fpits wholly from himself, and fcorns to
own any obligation or affiftance from without.
Then he difplays to you his great ſkill in
architecture, and improvement in the mathe-
matics. To all this the bee, as an advocate
retained by us the antients, thinks fit to an-
fwer; that if one may judge of the great
genius or inventions of the moderns by what
they have produced, you will hardly have
countenance to bear you out in boafting of
either. Erect your fchemes with as much
method and skill as you please; yet if the
materials be nothing but dirt, fpun out of
your own entrails (the guts of modern
brains) the edifice will conclude at last in a
cob-web; the duration of which, like that
of other fpiders webs, may be imputed to
their being forgotten, or neglected, or hid
in
OF THE BOOKS.
269
in a corner. For, any thing elſe of genuine
that the moderns may pretend to, I cannot
recollect; unless it be a large vein of wrang-
ling and fatyr, much of a nature and fub-
Stance with the ſpider's poiſon; which, how-
ever they pretend to fpit wholly out of them-
felves, is improved by the fame arts, by feed-
ing upon the infects and vermin of the age.
As for us the antients, we are content with
the bee to pretend to nothing of our own,
beyond our wings and our voice: that is to
fay, our flights and our language. For the
reft, whatever we have got, has been by in-
finite labour and fearch, and ranging through
every corner of nature; the difference is,
that, instead of dirt and poison, we have
rather choſen to fill our hives with honey and
wax, thus furnishing mankind with the two
nobleft of things, which are ſweetneſs and
light.
It is wonderful to conceive the tumult
arifen among the books upon the cloſe of
this long deſcant of fop: both parties
took the hint, and heightened their ani-
mofities ſo on a fudden, that they reſolved
it ſhould come to a battle. Immediately
the two main bodies withdrew under their
feveral
270
THE BATTLE
feveral enfigns to the farther parts of the
library, and there entered into cabals, and
confults upon the prefent emergency. The
moderns were in very warm debates upon
the choice of their leaders, and nothing
leſs than the fear impending from the
enemies could have kept them from
mutinies upon this occafion. The differ-
ence was greateſt among the horſe, where
every private trooper pretended to the chief
command, from Tafo and Milton to Dry-
den and Withers. The light-horſe were
commanded by Cowley and + Defpreaux.
There came the bowmen under their va-
liant leaders, Des Cartes, Gaffendi, and
Hobbes, whofe ftrength was fuch, that
they could ſhoot their arrows beyond the
atmoſphere never to fall down again, but
turn like that of Evander into meteors, or
like the cannon-ball into ftars. Paracelfus
brought a Squadron of flink-pot-flingers
from the fnowy mountains of Rhaetia. There
came a vaft body of dragoons of different
nations under the leading of Harvey ‡
+ More commonly known
by the name of Boileau.
+ Doctor Harvey who dif-
covered the circulation of the
blood, a diſcovery much in-
fifted on by the advocates for
the moderns, and excepted
againft as falfe by Sir William
Temple, in his Effay, P. 44,
45.
their
OF THE BOOKS.
271
their great aga: part armed with ſcythes,
the weapons of death; part with lances
and long knives, all ſteeped in poifon; part
fhot bullets of a moft malignant nature,
and uſed white powder, which infallibly
killed without report. There came ſeveral
bodies of heavy-armed foot, all mercenaries,
under the enfigns of Guicciardine, Davila,
Polydore Virgil, Buchanan, Mariana, Cam-
den, and others. The engineers were com-
manded by Regiomontanus and Wilkins.
The reft were a confuſed multitude, led
by Scotus, Aquinas, and Bellarmine; of
mighty bulk and ftature, but without either
arms, courage, or difcipline. In the laſt
place, came infinite fwarms of + calones,
a diforderly rout led by L'Eftrange; rogues
and raggamuffins, that follow the camp
for nothing but the plunder; all without
coats to cover them.
+ Calones. By calling this
diforderly rout calones the
author points both his fatyr
and contempt againſt all forts
of mercenary fcriblers, who
write as they are commanded
by the leaders and patrons of
fedition, faction, corruption,
and every evil work: they are
ftiled calones becauſe they are
the meaneſt and moſt deſpica-
ble of all writers, as the ca-
lones, whether belonging to
the army or private families,
were the meaneft of all flaves
or fervants whatſoever.
Thefe are pamphlets,
which are not bound or co-
ver❜d.
The
272
THE BATTLE
The army of the antients was much
fewer in number; Homer led the horse,
and Pindar the light-horfe; Euclid was
chief engineer; Plato and Ariftotle com-
manded the bowmen; Herodotus and Livy
the foot; Hippocrates the dragoons; the
allies led by Voffius and Temple brought
up the rear.
All things violently tending to a deci-
five battle, Fame, who much frequented,
and had a large apartment formerly af-
figned her in the regal library, fled up
ftrait to Jupiter, to whom the delivered
a faithful account of all that paffed be-
tween the two parties below; for, among
the Gods ſhe always tells truth. Jove, in
great concern, convokes a council in the
milky way. The fenate affembled, he de-
clares the occafion of convening them;
a bloody battle juſt impendent between
two mighty armies of antient and modern
creatures, called books, wherein the celef-
tial intereſt was but too deeply concerned.
Momus, the patron of the moderns, made
an excellent ſpeech in their favour, which
was anfwered by Pallas, the protectreſs of
the antients. The affembly was divided
in
OF THE BOOKS.
273
in their affections; when Jupiter com-
manded the book of fate to be laid before
him. Immediately were brought by Mercu-
ry three large volumes in folio, containing
memoirs of all things paſt, preſent, and to
come. The clafps were of filver double
gilt; the covers of celeſtial turkey-leather,
and the paper fuch as here on earth might
almoft pafs for vellum. Jupiter, having
filently read the decree, would communi-
cate the import to none, but preſently
fhut up the book.
Without the doors of this affembly there
attended a vaſt number of light, nimble
gods, menial fervants to Jupiter: theſe
are his miniſtering inftruments in all affairs
below. They travel in a caravan, more
or leſs together, and are faftened to each
other, like a link of galley-flaves, by a
light chain, which paffes from them to
Jupiter's great toe: and yet, in receiving
or delivering a meffage they may never
approach above the loweft ftep of his
throne, where he and they whifper to
each other through a long, hollow trunk.
Theſe deities are called by mortal men
accidents or events; but the gods call
VOL. I.
T
them
274
THE BATTLE
them fecond caufes. Jupiter having de-
livered his meffage to a certain number
of theſe divinities, they flew immediately
down to the pinnacle of the regal library,
and, confulting a few minutes, entered
unſeen, and difpofed the parties accord-
ing to their orders.
Mean while Momus fearing the worſt,
and calling to mind an antient prophecy,
which bore no very good face to his chil-
dren the moderns, bent his flight to the
region of a malignant deity, called Cri-
ticiſm. She dwelt on the top of a fnowy
mountain in Nova Zembla; there Momus
found her extended in her den upon the
fpoils of numberlefs volumes, half devour-
ed. At her right-hand fat Ignorance, her
father and huſband, blind with age; at
her left Pride, her mother, dreffing her
up in the ſcraps of paper herſelf had torn.
There was Opinion, her fifter, light of
foot, hood-winked, and head-ſtrong, yet
giddy, and perpetually turning. About
her played her children, Noife and Impu-
dence, Dulness and Vanity, Pofitiveness,
Pedantry and Ill-Manners. The goddeſs
herſelf had claws like a cat; her head,
and
OF THE BOOKS.
275
and ears, and voice refemled thofe of an
aſs; her teeth fallen out before; her eyes
turned inward, as if ſhe looked only upon
herſelf; her diet was the over-flowing of
her own gall; her spleen was fo large, as
to ſtand prominent, like a dug of the firſt
rate, nor wanted excrefcencies in form of
teats, at which a crew of ugly monſters
were greedily fucking; and, what is won-
derful to conceive, the bulk of fpleen in-
creaſed faſter than the fucking could dimi-
nifh it. Goddeſs, faid Momus, can you fit
idly here, while our devout worshippers the
moderns are this minute entering into a
cruel battle, and perhaps now lying under
the fwords of their enemies; who then here-
after will ever facrifice, or build altars to
our divinities? hafte therefore to the Britiſh
iſle, and if poſſible, prevent their deftruc-
tion; while I make factions among the gods,
and gain them over to our party.
Momus, having thus delivered himſelf,
ſtaid not for an anſwer, but left the god-
deſs to her own refentment. Up fhe roſe
in a rage, and, as it is the form upon ſuch
occafions, began a foliloquy: It is I (faid
The) who give wisdom to infants and idiots;
T 2
by
276
THE BATTLE
by me children grow wiser than their pa-
rents; by me beaux become politicians, and
ſchool-boys judges of philofophy; by me
fophifters debate, and conclude upon the
depths of knowledge; and coffee-houſe wits,
instinct by me, can correct an author's Style
and difplay his minuteſt errors, without
underſtanding a fyllable of his matter, or
his language; by me ftriplings Spend their
judgment, as they do their eftate, before it
comes into their hands. It is I, who have
depofed wit and knowledge from their em-
pire over poetry, and advanced myself in
their ftead. And shall a few upftart an-
tients dare oppofe me?
but come, my
aged parent, and you my children dear,
and thou, my beauteous fifter; let us afcend
my chariot, and hafte to affift our devout
moderns, who are now facrificing to us a
hecatomb, as I perceive by that grateful
Smell, which from thence reaches my noftrils.
The goddeſs, and her train, having
mounted the chariot, which was drawn
by tame geefe, flew over infinite regions,
fhedding her influence in due places,
till at length fhe arrived at her beloved
ifland of Britain; but in hovering over
!
its
OF THE BOOKS.
277
its metropolis, what bleffings did fhe not
let fall upon her feminaries of Gresham
and Covent-Garden? + and now fhe
reached the fatal plain of St. James's li-
brary, at what time the two armies were
upon the point to engage; where, enter-
ing with all her caravan unſeen, and land-
ing upon a cafe of fhelves, now defert,
but once inhabited by a colony of vir-
tuofos, fhe ftaid a while to obferve the
poſture of both armies.
But, here the tender cares of a mother
began to fill her thoughts, and move in
her breaſt: for, at the head of a troop of
modern bowmen ſhe caft her
eyes upon her
fon Wotton; to whom the fates had af-
figned a very fhort thread. Wotton, a
young hero, whom an unknown father
of mortal race begot by ftollen embraces
with this goddeſs. He was the darling of
his mother above all her children, and fhe
refolved to go and comfort him. But firſt,
according to the good old cuſtom of dei-
ties, ſhe caft about to change her ſhape,
for fear the divinity of her countenance
might dazzle his mortal fight, and over-
+ See the notes, p. 53.
T 3
charge
1
278
THE BATTLE
charge the reft of his fenfes. She therefore
gathered up her perfon into an octavo com-
paſs: her body grew white and arid, and
ſplit in pieces with dryness; the thick turn-
ed into paſte-board, and the thin into pa-
per, upon which her parents and children
artfully ftrewed a black juice or decoction
of gall and foot in form of letters; her head,
and voice, and fpleen kept their primitive
form; and that, which before was a cover
of ſkin, did ſtill continue fo. In this guiſe
The marched on towards the moderns, un-
diſtinguiſhable in ſhape and dreſs from
the divine Bentley, Wotton's deareſt friend.
Brave Wotton, faid the goddeſs, why do
our troops ſtand idle here to spend their pre-
Sent vigour and opportunity of this day?
away, let us hafte to the generals, and ad-
wife to give the onfet immediately. Having
ſpoke thus, he took the ugliest of her
monſters, full gutted from her fpleen, and
flung it invifibly into his mouth, which,
flying ſtraight up into his head, fqueefed
out his eye-balls, gave him a diftorted
look, and half overturned his brain. Then
the privately ordered two of her beloved
children, Dulness and Ill-Manners, clofe-
ly
OF THE BOOKS.
279
ly to attend his perfon in all encounters.
Having thus accoutered him, fhe vaniſh-
ed in a miſt, and the hero perceived it
was the goddeſs his mother.
The deſtined hour of fate being now
arrived, the fight began; whereof before
I dare adventure to make a particular de-
fcription, I muft, after the example of o-
ther authors, petition for a hundred tongues,
and mouths, and hands, and pens; which
would all be too little to perform ſo im-
menfe a work. Say, goddefs, that prefid-
eft over hiſtory, who it was that firſt ad-
vanced in the field of battle. Paracelfus,
at the head of his dragoons, obferving Ga-
len in the adverſe wing, darted his javelin
with a mighty force, which the brave
antient received upon his fhield, the point
breaking in the ſecond fold.
*
*
*
*
*
Hic pauca
defunt.
They bore the wounded Aga † on their
fhields to his chariot
+ Doctor Harvey, ſee the
note p.270. It was not thought
proper to name his antagoniſt,
but only to intimate, that he
*
was wounded; other moderns
are fpared by the hiatus that
follows, probably for fimilar
reaſons.
T 4
280
THE BATTLE
Defunt
nonnulla.
*
Then Ariftotle, obferving Bacon ad-
vance with a furious mien, drew his bow
to the head, and let fly his arrow, which
miffed the valiant modern, and went hiz-
zing over his head; but Des Cartes it hit;
the ſteel point quickly found a defect in
his head piece; it pierced the leather and
the paſte-board, and went in at his right
eye. The torture of the pain whirled
the valiant bowman round, till death, like
a ftar of ſuperior influence, drew him in-
to his own vortex.
Ingens hiatus
bic in MS.
when Homer appeared at
the head of the cavalry, mounted on a furi-
ous horſe, with difficulty managed by the
rider himſelf, but which no other mortal
durft approach; he rode among the ene-
mies ranks, and bore down all before him.
Say, goddeſs, whom he flew firft, and
whom he flew laft. Firſt, * Gondibert ad-
An heroic poem by Sir William Davenant, in ftanzas
of four lines.
vanced
OF THE BOOKS.
281
vanced againſt him, clad in heavy armour,
and mounted on a ſtaid fober gelding, not
fo famed for his fpeed, as his docility in
kneeling, whenever his rider would mount
or alight. He had made a vow to Pallas,
that he would never leave the field, till
he had ſpoiled Homer of his armour;
madman, who had never once feen the
wearer, nor underſtood his ſtrength! him
Homer overthrew horfe and man to the
ground, there to be trampled and choak-
ed in the dirt. Then, with a long ſpear
he flew Denham, a ftout modern, who from
his + father's fide derived his lineage from
ተ
Apollo, but his mother was of mortal race.
He fell, and bit the earth. The celeſtial
part Apollo took, and made it a ftar, but
the terreftrial lay wallowing upon the
ground. Then Homer flew Wefley, § with
a kick of his horfe's heel; he took Per-
rault by mighty force out of his faddle,
then hurled him at Fontenelle, with the
fame blow daſhing out both their brains.
↑ Vid. Homer.
+ Sir John Denham's poems
are very unequal, extremely
good, and very indifferent;
fo that his detractors faid, he
was not the real author of
Cooper's Hill.
§ Mr. Wefley, who wrote
the life of Chrift in verfe,
&
On
282
THE BATTLE
On the left wing of the horſe, Virgil
appeared in fhining armour, compleatly
fitted to his body: he was mounted on a
dapple-grey fteed, the flowneſs of whoſe
pace was an effect of the higheſt mettle
and vigour. He caft his eye on the adverſe
wing with a defire to find an object worthy
of his valour, when behold, upon a forrel
gelding of a monftrous fize appeared a foe,
iffuing from among the thickeft of the
enemy's fquadrons; but his fpeed was
leſs than his noife; for his horſe, old and
lean, ſpent the dregs of his ftrength in
a high trot, which, though it made flow
advances, yet cauſed a loud claſhing of his
armour, terrible to hear. The two cava-
liers had now approached within the
throw of a lance, when the ftranger de-
fired a parley, and lifting up the vizor of
his helmet, a face hardly appeared from
within, which after a paufe was known for
that of the renowned Dryden. The brave
antient ſuddenly ſtarted, as one poffeffed
with furprize and diſappointment together;
for the helmet was nine times too large
for the head, which appeared fituate far
in the hinder part, even like the lady in a
lobſter,
OF THE BOOKS.
283
lobſter, or like a mouſe under a canopy
of ftate, or like a fhrivelled beau from
within the pent-houſe of a modern peri-
wig: and the voice was fuited to the
viſage, founding weak and remote. Dry-
den in a long harangue foothed up the good
antient, called him father; and by a large
deduction of genealogies made it plainly
appear, that they were nearly related. Then
he humbly propofed an exchange of armour
as a lafting mark of hofpitality between
them. Virgil confented (for the goddeſs
Diffidence came unfeen, and caft a miſt
before his eyes) though his was of ‡ gold
and coft a hundred beeves, the other's but
of rufty iron. However, this glittering
armour became the modern yet worſe than
his own. Then they agreed to exchange
horſes; but, when it came to the trial,
Dryden was afraid, and utterly unable to
mount.
* *
*
*
*
*
Alter bia-
tus in MS.
* Lucan appeared
Vid, Homer.
upon
284
THE BATTLE
upon a fiery horſe of admirable ſhape, but
head-ſtrong, bearing the rider where he lift
over the field; he made a mighty flaughter
among the enemy's horfe; which deftruc-
tion to ſtop, Blackmore a famous modern
(but one of the mercenaries) ftrenuouſly
oppofed himfelf, and darted his javelin
with a ftrong hand, which, falling fhort
of its mark, ftruck deep in the earth.
Then Lucan threw a lance; but Æfcu-
lapius came unfeen, and turned off the
point. Brave modern, faid Lucan, I
perceive fome god protects you, for never
did my arm fo deceive me before: but what
mortal can contend with a god? therefore,
let us fight no longer, but prefent gifts to
each other. Lucan then beftowed the mo-
dern a pair of Spurs, and Blackmore gave
Lucan a bridle.
Pauca de-
Junt.
*
*
Creech: but the goddeſs Dulness took a
cloud, formed into the fhape of Horace,
armed and mounted, and placed in a fly-
ing poſture before him. Glad was the
His ſkill as a phyſician attoned for his dullneſs as a poet.
cavalier
OF THE BOOKS.
285
cavalier to begin a combat with a flying
foe, and purſued the image, threatening
loud; till at laft it led him to the peace-
ful bower of his father Ogleby, by whom
he was difarmed, and affigned to his repofe.
Then Pindar flew, and, and
Oldham, and— and + Afra the Ama-
zon, light of foot; never advancing in a
direct line, but wheeling with incredible
agility and force, he made a terrible flaugh-
ter among the enemies light-horfe. Him
when Cowley obſerved, his generous heart
burnt within him, and he advanced againſt
the fierce antient, imitating his addreſs,
his pace, and career, as well as the vigour
of his horſe, and his own ſkill would allow.
When the two cavaliers had approached
within the length of three javelins, firſt
Cowley threw a lance, which miffed Pin-
dar, and paffing into the enemy's ranks
fell ineffectual to the ground. Then Pin-
dar darted a javelin fo large and weighty,
that ſcarce a dozen cavaliers, as cavaliers
are in our degenerate days, could raiſe it
from the ground; yet he threw it with
+ Mrs. Afra Behn, author of many plays, novels, and
poems.
eaſe,
286
THE BATTLE
eafe, and it went by an unerring hand,
finging through the air; nor could the
modern have avoided preſent death, if he
had not luckily oppoſed the ſhield, that had
been given him by Venus. + And now
both heroes drew their fwords, but the
modern was fo aghaft and diſordered, that
he knew not where he was; his fhield drop-
ped from his hands; thrice he fled, and
thrice he could not eſcape; at laſt he turn-
ed, and lifting up his hands in the poſture of
a fuppliant: Godlike Pindar, faid he, ſpare
my life, and poffefs my borse with theſe
arms, befides the ransom, which my friends
will give, when they hear I am alive, and
your prifoner. Dog, faid Pindar, let your
ranfom ftay with your friends;
but your
carcass fhall be left for the fowls of the air,
and the beafts of the field. With that, he
raiſed his ſword, and with a mighty ſtroke
cleft the wretched modern in twain, the
fword purſuing the blow; and one half
lay panting on the ground to be trod in
pieces by the horſes feet, the other half
was borne by the frighted fteed through
+ His poem called the Miſtreſs.
the
OF THE BOOKS.
287
the field. This ‡ Venus took, waſhed it
feven times in ambrofia, then ftruck it
thrice with a ſpring of amaranth; upon
which, the leather grew round and foft,
and the leaves turned into feathers, and
being gilded before, continued gilded
ſtill; ſo it became a dove, and fhe har-
neffed it to her chariot. *
Hiatus valde
deflendus in MS.
Day being far ſpent, and the numerous
forces of the moderns half inclining to a
retreat, there iffued forth from a fquadron
of their heavy-armed foot † a captain,
whoſe name was Bentley, the most deform-
ed of all the moderns; tall, but without
fhape or comlinefs; large, but without
ſtrength or proportion. His armour was
patched up of a thouſand incoherent pieces;
+I do not approve the au-
thor's judgment in this, for I
think Cowley's Pindarics are
much preferable to his Miftrefs.
It may however be confi-
dered, that Cowley's pindarics
were but copies, of which
Pindar was the original; be-
fore Pindar therefore his pin-
darics might fall; and his
Miſtreſs be preſerved as pro-
perly his own.
+ The epiſode of Bentley
and Wotton,
As the account of the Battle
of the Books is an allegorical
reprefentation of Sir William
Temple's effay, in which the
antients are oppoſed to the
moderns, the account of Bent-
ley and Wotton is called an
epifode, and their intrufion
reprefented as an under action.
and
288
THE BATTLE
and the found of it, as he marched, was
loud and dry, like that made by the fall
of a fheet of lead, which an etefian wind
blows fuddenly down from the roof of fome
fteeple. His helmet was of old rufty iron,
but the vizor was brafs, which, tainted by
his breath, corrupted into coperas, nor
wanted gall from the fame fountain; fo
that, whenever provoked by anger or la-
bour, an atramentous quality of moſt ma-
lignant nature was feen to diftil from his
lips. In his + right hand he graſped a
flail, and (that he might never be unpro-
vided of an offenfive weapon) a veffel full of
ordure in his left. Thus compleatly armed,
he advanced with a flow and heavy pace,
where the modern chiefs were holding a
confult upon the fum of things; who,
as he came onwards, laughed to behold
his crooked leg, and hump fhoulder,
which his boot and armour vainly endea-
vouring to hide, were forced to comply
with, and expoſe. The generals made
ufe of him for his talent of railing; which,
The perfon, here fpoken
of, is famous for letting fly
at every body without di-
ftinction, and ufing mean and
foul fcurrilities.
kept
OF THE BOOKS.
289
kept within government, proved frequent-
ly of great fervice to their cauſe, but at
other times did more miſchief than good;
for at the leaſt touch of offence, and of-
ten without any at all, he would, like a
wounded elephant, convert it againſt his
leaders. Such at this juncture was the dif-
pofition of Bentley, grieved to fee the
enemy prevail, and diffatisfied with every
body's conduct, but his own. He humbly
gave the modern generals to underſtand,
that he conceived with great fubmiffion,
they were all a pack of rogues, and fools,
and fons of whores, and d-n'd cowards,
and confounded loggerheads, and illiterate
whelps, and nonfenfical fcoundrels; that if
himſelf had been conftituted general, thoſe
‡ prefumptuous dogs, the antients, would
long before this have been beaten out of
the field. You, faid he, fit here idle; but
when I, or any other valiant modern, kill
an enemy, you are fure to feize the Spoil.
But I will not march one foot against the
foe, 'till you all fwear to me, that whom-
ever I take or kill, his arms I fhall quietly
poffefs. Bentley having ſpoken thus, Sca-
VOL. I.
↑ Vid. Homer. de Therfite.
U
liger
290
THE BATTLE
liger beſtowing him a four look; Mifcre-
ant prater, faid he, eloquent only in thine
own eyes, thou raileft without wit, or truth,
or difcretion. The malignity of thy temper
perverteth nature, thy learning makes thee
more barbarous, thy study of humanity
more inhuman; thy converfe among poets
more groveling, miry, and dull. All arts
of civilizing others render thee rude and
untractable; courts have taught thee ill
manners, and polite converfation has finiſh-
ed thee a pedant. Befides, a greater coward
burtheneth not the army. But never de-
Spond; I pafs my word, whatever ſpoil thou
takeft, fhall certainly be thy own; though,
I hope, that vile carcass will first become
a prey to kites and worms.·
+
Bentley durft not reply; but, half choak-
ed with fpleen and rage, withdrew in full
refolution of performing fome great at-
chievement. With him for his aid and
companion he took his beloved Wotton;
refolving by policy or furprize to attempt
fome neglected quarter of the antients
army. They began their march over car-
caffes of their flaughtered friends; then
to the right of their own forces; then
wheeled
OF THE BOOKS.
291
wheeled northward, till they came to
Aldrovandus's tomb, which they paffed
on the fide of the declining fun. And now
they arrived with fear towards the enemy's
out-guards; looking about, if haply they
might 'fpy the quarters of the wounded,
or ſome ſtraggling fleepers, unarmed, and
remote from the reft. As when two mun-
grel curs, whom native greediness, and
domeſtic want, provoke and join in part-
nerſhip, though fearful, nightly to invade
the folds of fome rich grazier: they, with
tails depreffed and lolling tongues, creep
foft and flow; mean while the confcious
moon, now in her zenith, on their guilty
heads darts perpendicular rays; nor dare
they bark, though much provoked at her
refulgent viſage, whether feen in puddle
by reflection, or in fphere direct; but one
furveys the region round, while t'other
fcouts the plain, if haply, to diſcover, at
diſtance from the flock, fome carcass half
devoured, the refufe of gorged wolves, or
ominous ravens. So marched this lovely,
loving pair of friends, nor with leſs fear
and circumfpection; when, at diſtance,
they might perceive two fhining fuits of
U 2
armour,
292
THE BATTLE
armour, hanging upon an oak, and the
owners not far off in a profound fleep.
The two friends drew lots, and the pur-
fuing of this adventure fell to Bentley; on
he went, and in his van Confufion and
Amaze; while Horror and Affright
brought up the rear. As he came near, be-
hold two heroes of the antients army, Pha-
laris and Æfop, lay faſt aſleep: Bentley
would fain have diſpatched them both, and,
ftealing cloſe, aimed his flail at Phalaris's
breaſt. But then the goddeſs Affright inter-
pofing, caught the modern in her icy arms,
and dragged him from the danger fhe
forefaw; both the dormant heroes hap-
pened to turn at the fame inftant, though
foundly fleeping, and bufy in a dream. †
For Phalaris was juft that minute dream-
ing, how a moſt vile poetafter had lam-
pooned him, and how he had got him
roaring in his bull. And fop dreamed,
that, as he and the antient chiefs were lying
on the ground, a wild afs broke looſe, ran
about trampling and kicking, and dunging
in their faces. Bentley, leaving the two heroes
+ This is according to Ho-
mer, who tells the dreams of
thofe, who were killed in their
fleep.
afleep,
OF THE BOOKS.
293
afleep, feized on both their armours, and
withdrew in queft of his darling Wotton.
He in the mean time had wandered
long in ſearch of fome enterprize, till at
length he arrived at a fmall rivulet, that
iffued from a fountain hard by, called in
the language of mortal men Helicon. Here
he ſtopped, and parched with thirſt, re-
folved to allay it in this limpid ſtream.
Thrice with profane hands he effayed to
raiſe the water to his lips, and thrice it
flipped all through his fingers. Then he
flooped prone on his breaſt, but, e're his
mouth had kiffed the liquid cryſtal, A-
pollo came, and in the channel held his
fhield betwixt the modern and the foun-
tain, ſo that he drew up nothing but mud.
For, although no fountain on earth can
compare with the clearnefs of Helicon, yet
there lies at bottom a thick fediment of
flime and mud; for fo Apollo begged of
Jupiter, as a puniſhment to thofe, who
durft attempt to tafte it with unhallowed
lips, and for a leffon to all, not to draw
too deep, or far from the ſpring.
At the fountain-head Wotton difcerned
two heroes; the one he could not diftin-
guiſh,
U 3
294
THE BATTLE
*
guifh, but the other was foon known for
Temple, general of the allies to the antients.
His back was turned, and he was em→
ployed in drinking large draughts in his
helmet from the fountain, where he had
withdrawn himſelf to reft from the toils
of the war. Wotton obferving him, with
quaking knees and trembling hands ſpoke
thus to himfelf: Oh, that I could kill this
deftroyer of our army; what renown fhould
I purchaſe among the chiefs? but to ifue
out against him, man against man, fhield
against field, and lance against lance, what
modern of us dare? for he fights like a god,
and Pallas, or Apollo, are ever at his
elbow. But, oh, mother! if what fame
reports be true, that I am the fon of fo great
a goddess, grant me to hit Temple with
this lance, that the ftroke may fend him to
bell, and that I may return in fafety and
triumph laden with his fpoils. The firſt
part of this prayer the gods granted at the
interceffion of his mother, and of Momus;
but the reft, by a perverſe wind ſent from
fate, was fcattered in the air. Then Wot-
ton grafped his lance, and, brandishing it
* Vid. Homer.
thrice
"
OF THE BOOKS.
295
:
thrice over his head, darted it with all his
might, the goddeſs his mother at the fame
time adding ſtrength to his arm. Away
the lance went hizzing, and reached
even to the belt of the averted antient,
upon which lightly grazing it fell to the
ground. Temple neither felt the weapon
touch him, nor heard it fall; and Wotton
might have eſcaped to his army with the
honour of having remitted his lance againft
ſo great a leader, unrevenged; but Apollo
enraged, that a javelin, flung by the affift-
ance of fo foul a goddess, fhould pollute
his fountain, put on the fhape of
and foftly came to young Boyle, who then
accompanied Temple: he pointed firſt to
the lance, then to the diftant modern that
flung it, and commanded the young
young hero
to take immediate revenge. Boyle, clad in
a fuit of armour which had been given him
by all the gods †, immediately advanced
againſt the trembling foe, who now fled
before him. As a young lion in the Libyan
+ Boyle was affifted in this
difpute by Dean Aldrich, Doc-
tor Atterbury, afterwards Bp.
of Rochester, and other per-
fons at Oxford, celebrated for
their genius and their learning,
then called the Christ-church
wits.
U 4
plains,
296
THE BATTLE
plains, or Araby deſert, ſent by his aged
fire to hunt for prey, or health, or exerciſe;
he fcours along wiſhing to meet fome tyger
from the mountains, or a furious boar: if
chance a wild aſs, with brayings impor-
tune, affronts his ear, the generous beaſt,
though loathing to diftain his claws with
blood fo vile, yet much provok'd at the
offenfive noiſe, which echo, foolifh nymph,
like her ill-judging ſex, repeats much louder
and with more delight than Philomela's
fong; he vindicates the honour of the foreſt,
and hunts the noify long-ear'd animal. So
Wotton fled, fo Boyle purfued. But Wot-
ton heavy-armed, and flow of foot, began
to flack his courfe; when his lover Bentley
appeared, returning laden with the ſpoils
of the two fleeping antients. Boyle obferv-
ed him well, and foon difcovering the
helmet and ſhield of Phalaris, his friend,
both which he had lately with his own
hands new polifhed and gilt; rage
fparkled in his eyes, and leaving his pur-
fuit after Wotton, he furioufly rufh'd on
againſt this new approacher. Fain would
he be revenged on both; but both now
fled
1
"
OF THE BOOKS.
297
fled different ways: † and, as a woman
in a little houſe, that gets a painful liveli-
hood by ſpinning; if chance her geeſe be
fcattered o'er the common, fhe courſes
round the plain from fide to fide, com-
pelling here and there the ftragglers to the
flock; they cackle loud, and flutter o'er
the champain. So Boyle purfued, fo fled
this pair of friends: finding at length
their flight was vain, they bravely join'd
and drew themſelves in phalanx. Firſt
Bentley threw a fpear with all his force,
hoping to pierce the enemy's breaſt: but
Pallas came unfeen, and in the air took
off the point, and clapp'd on one of lead,
which, after a dead bang againſt the ene-
my's fhield, fell blunted to the ground.
Then Boyle, obſerving well his time, took
up a lance of wondrous length and ſharp-
nefs; and as this pair of friends compacted
ftood cloſe fide to fide, he wheel'd him
to the right, and, with unuſual force,
darted the weapon. Bentley faw his fate
approach, and flanking down his arms
+ This is alfo after the
manner of Homer; the wo-
man's getting a painful liveli-
hood by ſpinning, has nothing
to do with the fimilitude, nor
would be excufable without
fuch an authority.
Vid. Homer.
clofe
298
THE BATTLE.
clofe to his ribs, hoping to fave his body;
in went the point, paffing through arm
and fide, nor ftopp'd, or ſpent its force,
till it had alſo pierced the valiant Wotton,
who, going to fuftain his dying friend,
fhared his fate. As when a fkilful cook
has trufs'd a brace of woodcocks, he, with
iron ſkewer, pierces the tender fides of both,
their legs and wings cloſe pinion'd to their
ribs: fo was this pair of friends transfix'd
till down they fell, join'd in their lives,
join'd in their deaths; fo cloſely join'd,
that Charon would miſtake them both for
one, and waft them over Styx for half his
fare. Farewel, beloved, loving pair; few
equals have you left behind: and happy
and immortal fhall you be, if all my wit
and eloquence can make you.
And, now
Defunt cætera.
FINI S.
A
:
DISCOURSE
CONCERNING THÈ
MECHANICAL OPERATION
OF THE
SPIRIT.
IN A
LETTER
TOA
FRIEND.
A
FRAGMENT.
THE
Bookfeller's Advertiſement.
THE
HE following difcourfe came into
my hands perfect and intire: but
there being feveral things in it, which the
prefent age would not very well bear, I
kept it by me fome years, refolving it
fhould never fee the light. At length, by
the advice and affiftance of a judicious
friend, I retrenched thofe parts that might
give moft offence, and have now ventured
to publish the remainder. Concerning the
author I am wholly ignorant; neither can
I conjecture, whether it be the fame with
that of the two foregoing pieces, the origi-
nal having been fent me at a different
time, and in a different hand. The learn-
ed reader will better determine, to whofe
judgment I intirely fubmit it.
A DIS-
A
DISCOURSE
CONCERNING THE
MECHANICAL OPERATION
OF THE
SPIRIT.
For T. H. Efquire*, at his chambers in
the academy of the Beaux Efpirits in
New-England.
SIR,
IT
T is now a good while, fince I have
had in my head fomething, not only
very material, but abfolutely neceffary to
* Suppoſed to be Col.
Hunter author of the Letter
of Enthuſiaſm mentioned in
the apology for the Tale of a
Tub.
This diſcourſe is not alto-
gether equal to the former,
the beſt parts of it being o-
mitted; whether the book-
feller's account be true, that
he durft not print the reft, I
know not, nor, indeed, is it
eaſy to determine, whether
he may be relied on, in any
thing he fays of this, or the
former treatiſes, only as to
the time they were writ in;
which, however, appears more
from the difcourfes themſelves,
than his relation.
my
302
A FRAGMENT.
my health, that the world fhould be in-
formed in: for, to tell you a fecret, I
am able to contain it no longer. However
I have been perplexed for fome time to
refolve, what would be the moſt proper
form to fend it abroad in. To which end
I have been three days courfing through
Weftminster-ball, and St. Paul's Church-
yard, and Fleet-freet, to perufe titles;
and I do not find any, which holds fo
general a vogue, as that of a letter to a
friend: nothing is more common than to
meet with long epiftles addreffed to per-
fons and places, where, at firft thinking,
one would be apt to imagine it not alto-
gether fo neceffary or convenient; fuch
as, a neighbour at next door, a mortal
enemy, a perfect ftranger, or a perſon of
quality in the clouds; and thefe
upon fub-
jects in appearance the leaft proper for
conveyance by the poft; as, long fchemes
in philofophy; dark and wonderfull my-
fteries of State; laborious differtations in
criticiſm and philofophy; advice to parlia-
ments, and the like.
Now, Sir, to proceed after the method
in prefent wear: for, let me fay what I
will
A FRAGMENT.
303
will to the contrary, I am afraid you will
publiſh this letter, as foon as ever it comes
to your hand.) I defire you will be my wit-
neſs to the world, how carelefs and fud-
den a ſcrible it has been; that it was but
yeſterday, when you and I began acci-
dentally to fall into diſcourſe on this mat-
ter; that I was not very well when we
parted; that the poſt is in fuch haſte, I
have had no manner of time to digeft it
into order, or correct the ftyle; and if
any other modern excufes for hafte and
negligence fhall occur to you in reading,
I beg you to infert them, faithfully pro-
mifing they ſhall be thankfully acknow-
ledged.
Pray, Sir, in your next letter to the
iroquois virtuofi, do me the favour to pre-
fent my humble ſervice to that illuftrious
body, and affure them, I fhall fend an
account of thofe phænomena, as ſoon as
we can determine them at Gresham.
I have not had a line from the literati
of Tobinambou theſe three laft ordinaries.
And now,. Sir, having diſpatched what
I had to fay of forms, or of buſineſs, let
me intreat, you will fuffer me to proceed
upon
304
A FRAGMENT.
upon my fubject; and to pardon me, if
I make no farther uſe of the epiftolary
ftyle, till I come to conclude.
SECT. I.
•
IT is recorded of Mahomet, that, upon
a vifit he was going to pay in Paradife,
he had an offer of feveral vehicles to con-
duct him upwards; as fiery chariots, wing-
ed horfes, and celeftial fedans: but he
refuſed them all, and would be borne to
heaven upon nothing but his ass. Now,
this inclination of Mahomet, as fingular as
it ſeems, hath been fince taken up by a
great number of devout Chriftians; and
doubtleſs with very good reafon. For
fince that Arabian is known to have bor-
rowed a moiety of his religious ſyſtem from
the chriftian faith, it is but juft he ſhould
pay repriſals to fuch as would challenge
them, wherein the good people of Eng-
land, to do them all right, have not been
backward. For, though there is not any
other nation in the world fo plentifully
provided with carriages for that journey,
either as to fafety or cafe; yet there are
abundance
}
A FRAGMENT.
૩૦૬
abundance of us, who will not be fatisfied
with any other machine, befides this of
Mabomet.
For my own part, I muft confefs to
bear a very fingular reſpect to this animal,
by whom I take human nature to be moſt
admirably held forth in all its qualities as
well as operations: and therefore, what-
ever in my ſmall reading occurs concerning
this our fellow-creature, I do never fail
to fet it down by way of common-place;
and when I have occafion to write upon
human reafon, politics, eloquence, or
knowledge, I lay my memorandums before
me, and infert them with a wonderful fa-
cility of application. However, among
all the qualifications afcribed to this dif
tinguiſhed brute by antient or modern
authors, I cannot remember this talent of
bearing his rider to heaven has been re-
corded for a part of his character, except
in the two examples mentioned already;
therefore, I conceive the methods of this
art to be a point of uſeful knowledge in
very few hands, and which the learned
world would gladly be better informed
in: this is what I have undertaken to per-
VOL. I.
X
form
306
A FRAGMENT.
form in the following difcourfe. For, to-
wards the operation already mentioned
many peculiar properties are required both
in the rider and the afs; which I fhall en-
deavour to fet in as clear a light as I can.
But, becauſe I am refolved by all means
to avoid giving offence to any party what-
ever, I will leave off difcourfing ſo cloſely
to the letter, as I have hitherto done, and
go on for the future by way of allegory,
though in fuch a manner, that the judici-
ous reader may without much ftraining
make his applications, as often as he ſhall
think fit. Therefore, if you pleaſe, from
hence forward inſtead of the term, aſs,
we ſhall make uſe of gifted, or enlightened
teacher; and the word, rider, we will
exchange for that of fanatic auditory, or
any other denomination of the like import.
Having fettled this weighty point, the
great fubject of enquiry before us is to
examine, by what methods this teacher
arrives at his gifts, or fpirit, or light;
and by what intercourfe between him and
his affembly it is cultivated and fupported.
In all my writings I have had conftant
regard to this great end, not to fuit and
apply
A FRAGMENT.
307
apply them to particular occafions and
circumſtances of time, of place, or of
perfon; but to calculate them for univer-
fal nature, and mankind in general. And
of fuch catholic uſe I eſteem this preſent
difquifition; for I do not remember any
other temper of body, or quality of mind,
wherein all nations and ages of the world
have fo unanimouſly agreed, as that of a
fanatic ftrain, or tincture of enthuſiaſm;
which improved by certain perfons or
focieties of men, and by them practifed
upon the reft, has been able to produce
revolutions of the greateſt figure in hiſtory;
as will foon appear to thofe, who know
any thing of Arabia, Perfia, India, or
China, of Morocco and Peru. Farther,
it has poffeffed as great a power in the
kingdom of knowledge; where it is hard
to affign one art or ſcience, which has not
annexed to it fome fanatic branch: fuch
are the philofopher's Stone; + the grand
elixir; the planetary worlds; the fquaring
of the circle; the fummum bonum; Uto-
pian common-wealths; with fome others of
leſs or ſubordinate note; which all ſerve
+ Some writers hold them for the fame, others not.
X 2
for
3༠8
A FRAGMENT.
for nothing elſe, but to employ or amuſe
this grain of enthuſiaſm dealt into every
compofition.
But, if this plant has found a root in
the fields of empire and of knowledge, it
has fixed deeper, and ſpread yet farther
upon holy ground. Wherein, though it
hath paffed under the general name of en-
thuſiaſm, and perhaps ariſen from the fame
original, yet hath it produced certain
branches of a very different nature, how-
ever often miftaken for each other. The
word, in its univerfal acceptation, may
be defined, a lifting up of the foul, or its
faculties, above matter. This defcription
will hold good in general; but I am only
to underſtand it, as applied to religion;
wherein there are three general ways
of
ejaculating the ſoul, or tranſporting it be-
yond the ſphere of matter. The firſt is
the immediate act of God, and is called
prophecy or infpiration. The fecond is the
immediate act of the devil, and is termed
poffeffion. The third is the product of na-
tural caufes, the effect of ſtrong imagina-
tion, ſpleen, violent anger, fear, grief,
pain, and the like. Thefe three have been
abundantly
A FRAGMENT.
309
abundantly treated on by authors, and
therefore ſhall not employ my enquiry.
But, the fourth method of religious en-
thuſiaſm, or launching out of the foul, as
it is purely an effect of artifice and mecha-
nic operation, has been ſparingly handled,
or not at all, by any writer; becauſe,
though it is an art of great antiquity, yet
having been confined to few perfons, it
long wanted thoſe advancements and re-
finements, which it afterwards met with,
fince it has grown fo epidemic, and fallen
into ſo many cultivating hands.
It is therefore upon this mechanicalopera-
tion of the fpirit, that I mean to treat, as
it is at preſent performed by our britiſh
workmen. I fhall deliver to the reader the
refult of many judicious obfervations upon
the matter; tracing, as near as I can, the
whole courfe and method of this trade,
producing parallel inftances, and relating
certain diſcoveries that have luckily fallen
in my way.
I have faid, that there is one branch of
religious enthusiasm, which is purely an
effect of nature; whereas, the part I mean
to handle, is wholly an effect of art, which
however
X 3
310
A FRAGMENT.
however is inclined to work upon certain
natures and conftitutions more than others.
Beſides, there is many an operation, which
in its original was purely an artifice, but
through a long fucceffion of ages hath
grown to be natural. Hippocrates tells us
that among our anceſtors, the Scythians,
there was a nation called + Long-heads,
which at firſt began by a cuſtom among
midwives and nurſes of moulding, and
fqueefing, and bracing up the heads of in-
fants; by which means nature, fhut out at
one paffage, was forced to ſeek another,
and, finding room above, fhot upwards
in the form of a fugar-loaf; and being
diverted that way for fome generations, at
laft found it out of herſelf, needing no
affiftance from the nurfe's hand. This
was the original of the Scythian long-heads,
and thus did cuſtom from being a fecond
nature proceed to be a firſt. To all which
there is ſomething very analogous among
us of this nation, who are the undoubted
poſterity of that refined people. For, in
the of our fathers there arofe a genera-
age
tion of men in this ifland, called round-
+ Macrocephali.
beads,
A FRAGMENT.
311
heads, whofe race is now fpread over
three kingdoms, yet, in its beginning was
merely an operation of art, produced by
a pair of ſciffars, a fqueeze of the face,
and a black cap. Theſe heads, thus form-
ed into a perfect ſphere in all affemblies,
were moſt expoſed to the view of the
female fort, which did influence their con-
ceptions fo effectually, that nature at laſt
took the hint, and did it of herſelf; fo
that a round-bead has been ever fince as
familiar a fight among us, as a long-head
among the Scythians.
Upon theſe examples, and others eaſy
to produce, I defire the curious reader to
diſtinguiſh, firſt, between an effect grown
from art into nature, and one that is na-
tural from its beginning: fecondly, be-
tween an effect wholly natural, and one
which has only a natural foundation, but
where the ſuperſtructure is intirely arti-
ficial. For, the firſt and the laſt of theſe
The fanatics in the time
of Charles I. ignorantly ap-
plying the text, "Ye know
"that it is a fhame for men
"to have long hair," cut
their's very fhort. It is faid,
that the queen once feeing
Pym a celebrated patriot, thus
cropped, enquired who that
round-headed man was, and
that from this incident the di-
ftinction became general, and
the party were called round-
heads.
X 4
I under-
312
A FRAGMENT.
I underſtand to come within the diſtricts
of my fubject. And having obtained theſe
allowances, they will ferve to remove any
objections, that may be raiſed hereafter
againſt what I fhall advance.
The practitioners of this famous art
proceed in general upon the following
fundamental: that, the corruption of the
fenfes is the generation of the Spirit: be-
cauſe the fenfes in men are fo many ave-
nues to the fort of reafon, which in this
operation is wholly blocked up. All en-
deavours muſt be therefore uſed either to
divert, bind up, ſtupify, flufter, and amuſe
the ſenſes, or elſe to juſtle them out of
their ſtations; and while they are either
abfent, or otherwife employed, or engag-
ed in a civil war against each other, the
Spirit enters and performs its part.
Now, the ufual methods of managing
the ſenſes upon fuch conjunctures are what
I fhall be very particular in delivering, as
far as it is lawful for me to do; but having
had the honour to be initiated into the
myſteries of every fociety, I defire to be
excuſed from divulging any rites, where-
in the profane muſt have no part.
But
A FRAGMENT,
313
But here, before I can proceed farther,
a very dangerous objection muft, if poffi-
ble, be removed. For, it is pofitively de-
nied by certain critics, that the ſpirit can
by any means be introduced into an af
ſembly of modern faints; the diſparity be-
ing fo great in many material circum-
ſtances between the primitive way of in-
fpiration, and that which is practiſed in
the preſent age. This they pretend to
prove from the ſecond chapter of the A&ts,
where comparing both it appears; Firſt,
that the apostles were gathered together
with one accord in one place; by which is
meant an univerſal agreement in opinion,
and form of worship; a harmony, ſay
they, ſo far from being found between
any two conventicles among us, that it is
in vain to expect it between any two heads
in the fame. Secondly, the Spirit inftruct-
ed the apoſtles in the gift of ſpeaking ſe-
veral languages; a knowledge fo remote
from our dealers in this art, that they
neither underſtand propriety of words, or
phraſes, in their own. Laftly, fay thefe
objectors, the modern artifts do utterly
exclude all approaches of the Spirit, and
bar
314
A FRAGMENT.
bar up its antient way of entering, by
covering themſelves fo clofe, and fo in-
duſtriouſly a-top. For, they will needs
have it as a point clearly gained, that the
cloven tongues never fat upon the apoſtles
heads, while their hats were on.
Now, the force of theſe objections ſeems
to confift in the different acceptation of
the word, Spirit; which if it be under-
ftood for a fupernatural affiftance, ap-
proaching from without, the objectors
have reaſon, and their affertions may be
allowed; but the Spirit we treat of here,
proceeding intirely from within, the argu-
ment of theſe adverfaries is wholly eluded.
And upon the fame account our modern
artificers find it an expedient of abſolute
neceffity to cover their heads as cloſe as
they can, in order to prevent perfpiration,
than which nothing is obferved to be a
greater ſpender of mechanic light, as we
may perhaps farther fhew in convenient
place.
To proceed therefore upon the phæno-
menon of ſpiritual mechanifm, it is here
to be noted, that in forming, and working
up the ſpirit the affembly has a confide-
rable
A FRAGMENT.
315
rable ſhare, as well as the preacher. The
method of this arcanum is as follows: they
violently ſtrain their eye-balls inward, half
clofing the lids; then, as they fit, they
are in a perpetual motion of fee-faw, mak-
ing long humms at proper periods, and
continuing the found at equal height,
chufing their time in thoſe intermiffions,
while the preacher is at ebb. Neither is
this practice in any part of it ſo fingular
and improbable, as not to be traced in
diſtant regions from reading and obſerva-
tion. For, firft, the † Jauguis, or en-
lightened faints of India, fee all their vi-
fions by help of an acquired ftraining and
preffure of the eyes. Secondly, the art of
fee-faw on a beam, and ſwinging by ſeſſion
upon a cord, in order to raife artificial
extafies, hath been derived to us from our
‡ Scythian anceſtors, where it is practiſed
at this day among the women. Laftly,
the whole proceeding, as I have here re-
lated it, is performed by the natives of
Ireland with a confiderable improvement;
and it is granted, that this noble nation
gol.
+ Bernier, Mem. de Mo- ‡ Guagnini Hift. Sarmat.
hath
316
A FRAGMENT.
hath of all others admitted fewer corrup-
tions, and degenerated leaft from the pu-
rity of the old Tartars. Now, it is ufual
for a knot of Irish men and women to
abſtract themſelves from matter, bind up
all their fenfes, grow vifionary and fpiri-
tual, by influence of a fhort pipe of to-
bacco handed round the company; each
preſerving the ſmoke in his mouth, till
it comes again to his turn to take in freſh;
at the fame time, there is a concert of a
continued gentle humm, repeated and re-
newed by inſtinct, as occafion requires;
and they move their bodies up and down
to a degree, that fometimes their heads and
points lie parallel to the horizon. Mean
while, you may obferve their eyes turned
up in the poſture of one, who endea-
vours to keep himſelf awake; by which,
and many other ſymptoms among them,
it manifeftly appears, that the reaſoning
faculties are all fufpended and fuperfeded,
that imagination hath ufurped the ſeat,
ſcattering a thouſand deliriums over the
brain. Returning from this digreffion, I
ſhall deſcribe the methods, by which the
Spirit approaches. The eyes being diſpoſed
according
A FRAGMENT.
317
according to art at firſt, you can ſee nothing;
but, after a fhort pauſe a ſmall glimmer-
ing light begins to appear, and dance be-
fore you. Then, by frequently moving
your body up and down, you perceive the
vapours to aſcend very faſt, till
you are
perfectly doſed and fluſtered like one, who
drinks too much in a morning. Mean
while the preacher is alſo at work; he
begins a loud humm, which pierces you
quite through; this is immediately return-
ed by the audience, and you find your-
felf prompted to imitate them by a meer
fpontaneous impulfe, without knowing
what you do. The interftitia are duly
filled up by the preacher to prevent too
long a paufe, under which the ſpirit would
foon faint and grow languid.
This is all I am allowed to difcover about
the progreſs of the Spirit with relation to
that part, which is borne by the affembly;
but in the methods of the preacher, to
which I now proceed, I fhall be more
large and particular.
SECT.
318
A FRAGMENT.
SECT. II.
You will read it very gravely remark-
ed in the books of thofe illuftrious
and right eloquent penmen, the modern
travellers; that the fundamental difference
in point of religion, between the wild In-
dians and us, lies in this: that we worſhip
God, and they worship the devil. But,
there are certain critics, who will by no
means admit of this diftinction; rather
believing, that all nations whatſoever adore
the true God, becauſe they ſeem to intend
their devotions to fome inviſible power of
greateſt goodness and ability to help them;
which perhaps will take in the brighteſt
attributes aſcribed to the divinity. Others
again inform us, that thofe idolaters adore
two principles; the principle of good, and
that of evil: which indeed I am apt to
look upon as the moſt univerſal notion,
that mankind by the meer light of nature
ever entertained of things invifible. How
this idea hath been managed by the In-
dians and us, and with what advantage
to the underſtandings of either, may well
deferve
A FRAGMENT.
319
deferve to be examined. To me the dif-
ference appears little more than this, that
they are put oftener upon their knees by
their fears, and we by our defires; that
the former ſet them a praying, and us a
curfing. What I applaud them for, is
their diſcretion in limiting their devotions
and their deities to their feveral diftricts,
nor ever fuffering the liturgy of the white
God to cross or to interfere with that of
the black. Not fo with us, who, pretend-
ing by the lines and meaſures of our reaſon
to extend the dominion of one invifible
power, and contract that of the other, have
diſcovered a grofs ignorance in the natures
of good and evil, and moſt horribly con-
founded the frontiers of both. After men
have lifted up the throne of their divinity
to the cœlum empyreum, adorned with all
fuch qualities and accompliſhments, as
themſelves feem moft to value and poffefs:
after they have funk their principle of evil
to the loweſt center, bound him with chains,
loaded him with curfes, furnifh'd him with
viler difpofitions than any rake-hell of the
town, accoutred him with tail, and horns,
and huge claws, and faucer eyes; I laugh
aloud
320
A FRAGMENT.
J
1
aloud to ſee theſe reaſoners at the fame
time engaged in wiſe diſpute about certain
walks and purlieus, whether they are in
the verge of God or the devil; ſeriouſly
debating, whether fuch and fuch influ-
ences come into mens minds from above
or below, whether certain paffions and
affections are guided by the evil ſpirit or
the good:
Dum fas atque nefas exiguo fine libidinum
Difcernunt avidi
Thus do men eſtabliſh a fellowſhip of Chrift
with Belial, and fuch is the analogy they
make between cloven tongues and cloven
feet. Of the like nature is the difquifition
before us: it hath continued theſe hun-
dred years an even debate, whether the
deportment and the cant of our english
enthuſiaſtic preachers were poffeffion, or
infpiration, and a world of argument has
been drained on either fide, perhaps to
little purpoſe. For I think, it is in life as
in tragedy, where it is held a conviction
of great defect, both in order and inventi-
on, to interpofe the affiftance of preter-
natural power without an abfolute and laſt
neceffity.
A FRAGMENT.
321
neceffity. However, it is a ſketch of hu-
man vanity, for every individual to imagine
the whole univerfe is intereſted in his mean-
eft concern. If he hath got cleanly over
a kennel, fome angel unfeen defcended on
purpoſe to help him by the hand; if he
hath knocked his head againſt a poft, it
was the devil, for his fins, let looſe from
hell on purpoſe to buffet him. Who, that
fees a little paultry mortal, droning, and
dreaming, and drivelling to a multitude,
can think it agreeable to common good
ſenſe, that either heaven or hell fhould be
put to the trouble of influence or inſpecti-
on upon what he is about? therefore, I am
refolved immediately to weed this error
out of mankind by making it clear, that
this mystery of vending fpiritual gifts is
nothing but a trade, acquired by as much
inftruction, and maſtered by equal prac-
tice and application, as others are. This
will beft appear by deſcribing and deduc-
ing the whole procefs of the operation as
variouſly, as it hath fallen under my know-
ledge or experience.
VOL. I.
Y
Here
3:22
A FRAGMENT.
*
***
*
Here the whole fcheme
of Spiritual mechanifm
was deduced and explain-
ed, with an appearance of*
great reading and obfer-
vation; but it was thought
neither fafe nor conveni-
ent to print it.
*
*
**
Here it may not be amifs to add a few
words upon the laudable practice of wear-
ing quilted caps; which is not a matter
of meer cuſtom, humour, or faſhion, as
fome would pretend, but an inſtitution of
great fagacity and uſe: theſe, when moiſten-
ed with ſweat, ftop all perſpiration; and,
by reverberating the heat, prevent the ſpi-
rit from evaporating any way, but at the
mouth; even as a ſkilful houſewife, that
covers her ſtill with a wet clout for the
fame reaſon, and finds the fame effect.
For, it is the opinion of choice virtuofi,
that the brain is only a crowd of little ani-
1
mals,
A FRAGMENT.
323
mals, but with teeth and claws extremely
fharp, and therefore cling together in the
contexture we behold, like the picture of
Hobbes's leviathan, or like bees in perpen-
dicular ſwarm upon a tree, or like a carrion
corrupted into vermin, ftill preſerving the
ſhape and figure of the mother animal:
that all invention is formed by the morfure
of two or more of theſe animals upon cer-
tain capillary nerves, which proceed from
thence, whereof three branches fpread into
the tongue, and two into the right hand.
They hold alſo, that theſe animals are of
a conſtitution extremely cold; that their
food is the air we attract, their excrement
phlegm; and that what we vulgarly call
rheums, and colds, and diftillations, is
nothing elſe but an epidemical looſeneſs,
to which that little common-wealth is
very fubject, from the climate it lies under.
Farther, that nothing leſs than a violent
heat can difentangle thefe creatures from
their hamated ſtation of life, or give them
vigour and humour to imprint the marks
of their little teeth. That, if the morfure
be hexagonal, it produces poetry; the
circular gives eloquence: if the bite hath
Y 2
been
324
A FRAGMENT.
been conical, the perſon, whoſe nerve is
fo affected, fhall be diſpoſed to write up-
on politics; and fo of the reſt.
I fhall now diſcourſe briefly, by what
kind of practices the voice is beſt governed
towards the compoſition and improvement
of the ſpirit; for without a competent ſkill
in tuning and toning each word, and fyl-
lable, and letter, to their due cadence,
the whole operation is incompleat, miffes
intirely of its effect on the hearers, and
puts the workman himſelf to continual
pains for new ſupplies without fuccefs.
For, it is to be underſtood, that in the
language of the ſpirit cant and droning fup-
ply the place of fenfe and reafon in the
language of men: becauſe, in fpiritual
harangues the difpofition of the words ac-
cording to the art of grammar hath not
the leaſt uſe, but the fkill and influence
wholly lie in the choice and cadence of the
fyllables; even as a diſcreet compoſer, who
in ſetting a fong changes the words and
order fo often, that he is forced to make it
nonſenſe, before he can make it mufic. For
this reafon it hath been held by fome, that
the art of canting is ever in greateſt perfec-
tion,
A FRAGMENT.
325
tion, when managed by Ignorance; which
is thought to be enigmatically meant by
Plutarch, when he tells us, that the beſt
mufical inftruments were made from the
bones of an aſs. And the profounder cri-
tics upon
that paffage are of opinion, the
word, in its genuine fignification, means
no other than a jaw-bone; though ſome
rather think it to have been the os facrum;
but in fo nice a cafe I fhall not take upon
me to decide; the curious are at liberty to
pick from it whatever they pleaſe.
The firſt ingredient towards the art of
canting is a competent fhare of inward
light; that is to fay, a large memory,
plentifully fraught with theological poly-
fyllables, and myſterious texts from holy
writ, applied and digeſted by thoſe me-
thods and mechanical operations already
related: the bearers of this light reſem-
bling lanterns, compact of leaves from old
Geneva bibles; which invention Sir Hum-
phrey Edwin, during his mayoralty, of
happy memory, highly approved and ad-
vanced; affirming the fcripture to be now
fulfilled, where it fays, thy word is a lan-
tern to my feet, and a light to my paths.
Y 3
Now,
?
326
A FRAGMENT.
Now, the art of canting confifts in ſkill-
fully adapting the voice to whatever words
the ſpirit delivers, that each may ſtrike the
ears of the audience with its moſt fignificant
cadence. The force or energy of this elo-
quence is not to be found, as among an-
tient orators, in the difpofition of words
to a ſentence, or the turning of long peri-
ods; but agreeable to the modern refine-
ments in mufic, is taken up wholly in
dwelling, and dilating upon fyllables and
letters. Thus it is frequent for a fingle
vowel to draw fighs from a multitude; and
for a whole affembly of faints to fob to
the muſic of one folitary liquid. But theſe
are trifles; when even founds inarticulate
are obſerved to produce as forcible effects.
A mafter workman fhall blow his nofe fo
powerfully, as to pierce the hearts of his
people, who are difpofed to receive the
excrements of his brain with the fame re-
verence as the iſſue of it. Hawking, fpit-
ting, and belching, the defects of other
mens rhetoric, are the flowers, and figures,
and ornaments of his. For, the fpirit be-
ing the fame in all, it is of no import
through what vehicle it is conveyed,
It
A FRAGMENT.
327
It a point of too much difficulty to
draw the principles of this famous art with-
in the compaſs of certain adequate rules.
However, perhaps I may one day oblige
the world with my critical effay upon the
art of canting, philofophically, phyfically, and
mufically confidered.
But, among all improvements of the
Spirit, wherein the voice hath borne a
part, there is none to be compared with
that of conveying the found through the
nofe, which under the denomination of
* Snuffling hath paffed with fo great ap-
plauſe in the world. The originals of this
inſtitution are very dark; but having been
initiated into the myſtery of it, and leave
being given me to publifh it to the world,
I fhall deliver as direct a relation as I can.
This art, like many other famous in-
ventions, owed its birth, or at leaſt, im-
provement and perfection, to an effect of
chance; but was eſtabliſhed upon folid
reaſons, and hath flouriſhed in this ifland
ever fince with great luftre.
* The fnuffling of men,
who have loft their nofes by
lewd courſes, is faid to have
All agree,
given rife to that tone, which
our diffenters did too much
affect. W. Wotton.
Y 4
that
328
A FRAGMENT.
that it firſt appeared upon the decay and
difcouragement of bag-pipes, which hav-
ing long fuffered under the mortal hatred
of the brethren, tottered for a time, and
at laſt fell with monarcly. The ftory is
thus related.
As yet fnuffling was not; when the
following adventure happened to a Ban-
bury faint. Upon a certain day, while
he was far engaged among the tabernacles
of the wicked, he felt the outward man
put into odd commotions, and ſtrangely
pricked forward by the inward; an effect
very ufual among the modern infpired.
For, fome think, that the ſpirit is apt to
feed on the flesh, like hungry wines upon
raw beef. Others rather believe, there is a
perpetual game at leap frog between both;
and fometimes the flesh is uppermoft, and
fometimes the Spirit; adding, that the
former, while it is in the ftate of a rider,
wears huge Rippon fpurs, and, when it
comes to the turn of being bearer, is won-
derfully head-ftrong and hard-mouthed.
However it came about, the faint felt his
weffel full extended in every part (a very
natural effect of ſtrong infpiration;) and
the
A FRAGMENT.
329
the place and time falling out fo unluckily,
that he could not have the convenience of
evacuating upwards, by repetition, prayer,
or lecture; he was forced to open an in-
ferior vent. In ſhort, he wreſtled with the
fleſh ſo long, that he at length fubdued
it, coming off with honourable wounds,
all before. The furgeon had now cured
the parts primarily affected; but the dif-
eafe, driven from its poft, flew up into
his head; and, as a fkilful general, va-
liantly attacked in his trenches, and beaten
from the field, by flying marches with-
draws to the capital city, breaking down
the bridges to prevent purfuit; fo the dif
eafe, repelled from its firft ftation, fled
before the rod of Hermes to the upper region
there fortifying itſelf; but, finding the foe
making attacks at the nose, broke down
the bridge, and retired to the head-quar-
ters. Now, the naturalifts obferve, that
there is in human noſes an idiofyncracy, by
virtue of which, the more the paffage
is obftructed, the more our fpeech delights
to go through, as the mufic of a flagellet
is made by the ſtops. By this method, the
twang of the noſe becomes perfectly to re-
femble
330
A FRAGMENT.
femble the fruffle of a bag-pipe, and is
found to be equally attractive of british ears;
whereof the faint had fudden experience
by practiſing his new faculty with wonder-
ful fuccefs in the operation of the ſpirit:
for in a fhort time no doctrine paffed for
found and orthodox, unleſs it were deliver-
ed through the noſe. Straight, every paſtor
copyed after this original; and thoſe, who
could not otherwife arrive to a perfection,
ſpirited by a noble zeal, made uſe of the
fame experiment to acquire it, fo that,
I think, it may be truly affirmed, the
faints owe their empire to the fnuffling of
one animal, as Darius did his to the neigh-
ing of another; and both ftratagems were
performed by the fame art; for we read,
how the + Perfian beaft acquired his facul-
ty by covering a mare the day before.
I fhould now have done, if I were not
convinced, that whatever I have yet ad-
vanced upon this fubject, is liable to great
exception. For, allowing all I have faid
to be true, it may ſtill be juſtly objected,
that there is, in the common-wealth of
artificial enthuſiaſm, fome real foundation
+ Herodot.
for
A FRAGMENT.
331
-1
for art to work upon in the temper and
complexion of individuals, which other
mortals ſeem to want. Obſerve but the
gefture, the motion, and the countenance,
of fome choice profeffors, though in their
moſt familiar actions, you will find them
of a different race from the reft of human
creatures. Remark your commoneft pre-
tender to a light within, how dark, and
dirty, and gloomy he is without: as lan-
terns, which the more light they bear in
their bodies, caft out fo much the more
foot, and ſmoke, and fuliginous matter to
adhere to the fides. Liften but to their
ordinary talk, and look on the mouth that
delivers it; you will imagine you are
hearing fome antient oracle, and your un-
derſtanding will be equally informed. Upon
theſe, and the like reafons, certain ob-
jectors pretend to put it beyond all doubt,
that there muſt be a fort of preternatural
Spirit, poffeffing the heads of the modern
faints; and fome will have it to be the beat
of zeal working upon the dregs of igno-
rance, as other fpirits are produced from
lees by the force of fire. Some again think,
that when our earthly tabernacles are
difordered
332
A FRAGMENT.
difordered and defolate, fhaken and out
of repair, the Spirit delights to dwell
within them; as houfes are faid to be
haunted, when they are forfaken and
gone to decay.
To ſet this matter in as fair a light as
poffible, I ſhall here very briefly deduce
the hiſtory of fanaticism from the moſt
early ages to the prefent. And if we are
able to fix upon any one material or funda-
mental point, wherein the chief profeffors
have univerſally agreed, I think we may
reaſonably lay hold on that, and affign it
for the great feed or principle of the fpirit.
The moſt early traces we meet with of
fanatics in antient ſtory are among the
Egyptians, who inftituted thoſe rites,
known in Greece by the names of Orgia,
Panegyres, and Dionyfia, whether intro-
duced there by Orpheus or Melampus, we
ſhall not diſpute at prefent, nor in all
likelihood at any time for the future. *
Theſe feafts were celebrated to the honour
of Ofiris, whom the Græcians called Dio-
nyfius, and is the fame with Bacchus:
which has betrayed fome fuperficial readers
* Diod. Sic. L. 1. Plut. de Ifide & Ofiride.
to
A FRAGMENT.
333
to imagine, that the whole buſineſs was
nothing more than a ſet of roaring, ſcour-
ing companions, over-charged with wine;
but this is a ſcandalous miſtake, foifted
on the world by a fort of modern authors,
who have too literal an underſtanding;
and, becauſe antiquity is to be traced back-
wards, do therefore, like Jews, begin
their books at the wrong end, as if learning
were a fort of conjuring. Theſe are the
men, who pretend to underſtand a book
by ſcouting through the index; as if a
traveller fhould go about to deſcribe a
palace, when he had feen nothing but the
privy; or like certain fortune-tellers in
northern America, who have a way of
reading a man's deftiny by peeping into
his breech. For, at the time of inftituting
theſe myſteries, † there was not one vine
in all Egypt, the natives drinking no-
thing but ale; which liquor feems to have
been far more antient than wine, and
has the honour of owing its invention and
progrefs not only to the Egyptian Ofiris,
but to the Gracian Bacchus, who, in
their famous expedition, carried the receipt
+ Herod. L. 2.
|
↑ Diod. Sic. L. 1. & 3.
of
334
A FRAGMENT.
of it along with them, and gave it to the
nations they vifited or fubdued. Befides,
Bacchus himſelf was very feldom, or never
drunk for, it is recorded of him, that
he was the firft || inventor of the mitre;
which he wore continually on his head
(as the whole company of bacchanals did)
to prevent vapours and the bead-ach after
hard drinking. And for this reaſon, ſay
fome, the ſcarlet whore, when fhe makes
the kings of the earth drunk with her cup
of abomination, is always fober herſelf,
though ſhe never balks the glaſs in her
turn, being, it ſeems, kept upon her legs
by the virtue of her triple mitre. Now,
theſe feaſts were inftituted in imitation of
the famous expedition Ofiris made through
the world, and of the company that atten-
ded him, whereof the bacchanalian cere-
monies were ſo many types and fymbols.
* From which account it is manifeft, that
the fanatic rites of theſe bacchanals, can-
not be imputed to intoxications by wine,
but muſt needs have had a deeper founda-
tion. What this was, we may gather large
Id. L. 4.
* See the particulars in Diod. Sic. L. 1.& 3.
hints
A FRAGMENT.
335
hints from certain circumftances in the
courſe of their myfteries. For, in the firſt
place, there was in their proceffions an in-
tire mixture and confufion of fexes; they
affected to ramble about hills and deferts:
their garlands were of ivy and vine, emblems
of cleaving and clinging; or of fir, the pa-
rent of turpentine. It is added, that they
imitated fatyrs, were attended by goats,
and rode upon affes, all companions of great
fkill and practice in affairs of gallantry.
They bore for their enfigns certain curious
figures, perched upon long poles, made
into the ſhape and fize of the virga geni-
talis, with its appurtenances, which were
fo many fhadows and emblems of the
whole myſtery, as well as trophies fet up
by the female conquerors. Laftly, in a
certain town of Attica the whole folemni-
ty, +ſtripped of all its types, was per-
formed in puris naturalibus, the votaries
not flying in covies, but forted into cou-
ples. The fame may be farther conjectured
from the death of Orpheus, one of the
inftitutors of theſe myſteries, who was torn
in pieces by women, becauſe he refuſed to
+ Dionyfia Brauronia.
commu-
336
A FRAGMENT.
‡communicate his orgies to them; which
others explained, by telling us, he had
caftrated himſelf upon grief for the lofs of
his wife.
Omitting many others of lefs note, the
next fanatics we meet with of any emi-
nence, were the numerous fect of Heretics
appearing in the five firſt centuries of the
chriftian era, from Simon Magus and his
followers to thofe of Eutyches. I have col-
lected their ſyſtems from infinite reading,
and, comparing them with thoſe of their
fucceffors in the feveral ages fince, I find
there are certain bounds fet even to the
irregularity of human thought, and thoſe
a great deal narrower than is commonly
apprehended. For, as they all frequently
interfere, even in their wildeſt ravings; fo
there is one fundamental point, wherein
they are fure to meet, as lines in a center,
and that is the community of women. Great
were their folicitudes in this matter, and
they never failed of certain articles in their
ſchemes of worſhip on purpoſe to eſtabliſh
it.
Vid. Photium in excerptis è Conone.
The
A FRAGMENT.
337
The laft fanatics of note were thoſe,
which ſtarted up in Germany a little after
the reformation of Luther; fpringing, as
muſhrooms do at the end of a harvest: fuch
were John of Leyden, David George,
Adam Neufter, and many others, whofe
vifions and revelations always terminated
in leading about half a dozen fifters apiece,
and making that practice a fundamental
part of their ſyſtem. For, human life is
a continual navigation, and, if we expect
our veſſels to paſs with fafety through the
waves and tempefts of this fluctuating
world, it is neceffary to make a good pro-
vifion of the flesh, as fea-men lay in ftore
of beef for a long voyage.
Now, from this brief furvey of fome
principal fects among the fanatics in all
ages (having omitted the mahometans and
others, who might alſo help to confirm
the argument I am about) to which I might
add ſeveral among ourſelves, fuch as the
family of love, fweet fingers of Ifrael, and
the like: and from reflecting upon that
fundamental point in their doctrines about
women, wherein they have fo unanimouſly
agreed; I am apt to imagine, that the ſeed
or principle, which has ever put men up-
VOL. I.
Z
on
338
A FRAGMENT.
on viſions in things inviſible, is of a cor-
poreal nature: for, the profounder chymiſts
inform us, that the ſtrongeſt ſpirits may
be extracted from human flesh. Befides,
the ſpinal marrow, being nothing elſe but
a continuation of the brain, muſt needs
create a very free communication between
the fuperior faculties and thoſe below:
and thus the thorn in the flesh ferves for a
Spur to the Spirit. I think, it is agreed
among phyſicians, that nothing affects
the head fo much, as a tentiginous hu-
mour, repelled and elated to the upper re-
gion, found by daily practice to run fre-
quently up into madneſs. A very eminent
member of the faculty affured me, that,
when the quakers firft appeared, he feldom
was without fome female patients among
them for the furor perfons of a vifiona-
ry devotion, either men or women, are
in their complexion of all others the moſt
amorous: for, zeal is frequently kindled
from the ſame ſpark with other fires, and,
from inflaming brotherly love, will pro-
ceed to raiſe that of a gallant. If we in-
ſpect into the ufual procefs of modern
courtship, we fhall find it to confiſt in a
devout turn of the eyes, called ogling ;
an
A FRAGMENT.
339
1
******
an artificial form of canting and whining
by rote every interval, for want of other
matter, made up with a fhrug, or a
humm; a figh or a groan; the ftile com-
pact of infignificant words, incoherences,
and repetition. Theſe I take to be the
moſt accompliſhed rules of addreſs to a
miſtreſs; and where are theſe performed
with more dexterity, than by the faints?
Nay, to bring this argument yet cloſer,
I have been informed by certain fanguine
brethren of the firft clafs, that in the
height and orgaſmus of their ſpiritual ex-
ercife, it has been frequent with them
* * * * * *; immediately after which
they found the Spirit to relax and flag of
a fudden with the nerves, and they were
forced to haften to a conclufion. This may
be farther ſtrengthened by obferving, with
wonder, how unaccountably all females
are attracted by vifionary or enthuſiaſtic
preachers, though never fo contemptible
in their outward mien; which is ufually
ſuppoſed to be done upon confiderations
purely fpiritual, without any carnal re-
gards at all. But, I have reafon to think,
the fex hath certain characteriſtics, by
which they form a truer judgment of human
abilities
4
340
A FRAGMENT.
{
abilities and performings, than we our-
felves can poffibly do of each other. Let
that be as it will, thus much is certain,
that, however fpiritual intrigues begin,
they generally conclude like all others;
they may branch upwards towards heaven,
but the root is in the earth. Too intenſe
a contemplation is not the buſineſs of fleſh
and blood; it muſt by the neceffary courſe
of things in a little time let go its hold,
and fall into matter. Lovers for the fake
of celeftial converſe are but another fort
of platonics, who pretend to ſee ſtars and
heaven in ladies eyes, and to look or
think no lower; but the fame pit is provid-
ed for both: and they feem a perfect moral
to the ftory of that philofopher, who,
while his thoughts and eyes were fixed up-
on the conftellations, found himfelf fe-
duced by his lower parts into a ditch.
I had fomewhat more to fay upon this
part of the ſubject; but the poft is juſt
going, which forces me in great hafte to
conclude,
Pray burn this
Letter as foon
as it comes to
your Hands.
SIR,
Yours, &c.
FINI S,