But if our Candidates for Authorfhip hap- pen to be of the fanclifyd kind; 'tis not to be imagin'd ADVICE to an Author. 165 imagin'd how much farther (till their Charity is apt to extend. So exceeding great is their Indulgence and Tendernefs for Mankind, that they are unwilling the lead Sample of their devout Exercife fhou'd be loft. Tho there are already fo many Formularys and Rituals ap- pointed for this Species of Soliloquy; they can allow nothing to lie conceal'd, which paffes in this religious Commerce and way of Dialogue between them and their Soul.
These may be term'd a fort of Pfeudo-Afce- ticks, who can have no real Converfe either with themfelves, or with Heaven; whilft they look thus a-fquint upon the World, and carry Titles and Editions along with 'em in their Me- ditations. And altho the Books of this fort, by a common Idiom, are call'd good Books; the Authors, for certain, are a forry Race: For religious Cruditys are undoubtedly the worft of any. * A &?mZ- Author of all Men leaft values Politenefs. He fcorns to confine that Spirit, in which he writes, to Rules of Criticifm and profane Learning. Nor is he inclin'd in any refpecl to play the Critick on himfelf, or re- gulate his Style or Language by the Standard of good Company, and People of the better fort. He is above the Confideration of that '"VOL. III. jb. 239,240,241. in the Notes.
L 4 which which in a narrow fenfe we call Manners. Nor is he apt to examine any other Faults than thofe which he calls Sins: Tho a Sinner againft Good-Breeding, and the Laws of Decency, will no more be efteem'd a good Author, than will a Sinner againft Grammar, good Argu- ment, or good Senfe. And if Moderation and 'Temper are not of the Party with a Writer; let his Caufe be ever fo good, I doubt whether he will be able to recommend it with great ad- vantage to the World.
On this account, I wou'd principally re- commend our Exercife of Self-Converfe to all fuch Perions as are addicled to write after the manner of holy Advifers; efpecially if they lie under an indifpenlible Neceffity of being Talk- er's or Haranguers in the fame kind. For to difcharge frequently and vehemently in pub- lick is a great hinderance to the way of, private Exercife; which confifts chiefly in Coniroul. But where, inflead of Controul, Debate or Argument, the chief Exercife of the Wit con- fifts in uncontroulabie Harangues and Reafon- ings, which rnuft neither be queftion'd nor contradicted; there is great danger, left the Partv, thro' this Habit, (hou'd fuffer much bv Cruditys, Indigeftions, Choler, Bile, and parti- cularly by a certain Tumour or Flatulency, which renders him of all Men the leaft able to apply the ADVICE to an Author. 167 the wholefom Regimen of Self-Practice. 'Tis no wonder if fuch quaint Practitioners grow to an enormous Size of Abfurdity, whilfl they continue in the reverfe of that Practice, by which alone we correct the Redundancy of Humours, and chaften the Exuberance of Con- ceit and Fancy.
J J A remarkable Inftance of the want of this fove reign Remedy may be drawn from our common great Talkers, who engrofs the greateit part of the Converfations of the World, and are the forwarded to fpeak in publick Af- femblys. Many of thefe have a fprightly Ge- nius, attended with a mighty Heat and Ebul- lition of Fancy. But 'tis a certain Obfervation in our Science, that they who are great Talk- ers in Company, have never been any Talkers by themfdvcs, nor us'd to thefe private DifcuiTi- ons of our home Regimen. For which reafon their Froth abounds. Nor can they difcharge any thing without fome mixture of it. But when they carry their Attempts beyond or- dinary Difcourfe, and wou'd rife to the Capa- city of Authors, the Cafe grows worfe with 'em. Their Page can carry none of the Advantages of their Per/on. They can no-way bring into Paper thofe Airs they give themfelves in Dif- courfe. The Turns of Voice and Action, with which they help out many a lame Thought.
and 168 A DVI C E to an Author.
and incoherent Sentence, muff here be laid afide; and the Speech taken to pieces, com- par'd together, and examin'd from head to foot. So that unlefs the Party has been us'd to play the Critick thorowly upon himfelf, he will hardly be found proof againft the Criti- cifms of others. His Thoughts can never ap- pear very correcl:; unlefs they have been us'd to found Correction by themfelves, and been well form'd and difciplin'd before they are brought into the Field. Tis the hardefl thing in the world to be a good Thinker, without be- ing a ftrong Self-Examiner, and thorowpacd Dialcgifl, in this folitary way.
SEC T. II.
UT to bring our Cafe a little clofer ftill to Morals. I might perhaps very juftifi- ably take occafion here to enter into a fpacious Field of Learning, to fliew the Antiquity of that Opinion, tl That we have each of us a tc Duemon, Genius, Angel, or Guardian-Spirit, to "• whom we were ftrictly join'd, and commit- 41 ted, from our earlieft Dawn of Reafon, or " Moment of our Birth." This Opinion, were it literally true, might be highly ferviceable, no doubt, towards the Eftablifhment of our Syflem and Doclrine. For it wou'd infallibly be provd a kind of Sacrilege or Impiety to (light ADVICE to an Author. i6g flight the Company of fo Divine a Gueft, and in a manner banifh him our Breaft, by re- fufing to enter with him into thofe fecret Con- ferences, by which alone he cou'd be enabled to become our Advifer and Guide. But I fhou'd efleem it unfair to proceed upon fuch an Hy- pothecs as this: when the very utmoft the wife Antients ever meant by this 7)^mo/i-Compa- nion, I conceive to have been no more than enigmatically to declare, " That we had each " of us a Patient in our -f elf; that we were pro- " perly our own Subjects of Practice; and that ct we then became due Practitioners, when by " virtue of an intimate Recefs we cou'd difcover lc a certain* Duplicity of Soul, and divide our- tc felves into two Partys." One of thefe, as they fuppos'd, wou'd immediately „ approve him-felf a venerable Sage; and with an air of Authority erect himfelf our Counfellor and* Governor; whiiit the other Party, who had nothing in him beficles what was bafe and^r- vile, wou'd be contented to follow and obey.
According therefore as this Recefs was deep and intimate, and the Dual Number prac- tically form'd in Us, we were fuppos'd to ad- vance in Morals and true Wifdom. This, they thought, was the only way of compofing Matters in our Breaft, and eftablifhing that Subordinacy, which alone cou'd make Us agree with ourfelves, felves, and be of a-piece within. They efteem'd this a more religious Work than any Prayers, or other Duty in the Temple. And this they advis'd Us to carry thither, as the befl Offering which cou'd be made: * CompofUum jus, fafquc animi, janBqfque rccrjfus Mentis. ■ This was, among the Antients, that celebra- ted Delphick Infcription, Recognize Your- sele: which was as much as to fay, Divide your-Jelf or Be Two. For if the Divifionwere rightly made, all within woud of courfe, they thought, be rightly underftood, and prudently manag'd. Such Confidence they had in this Home-Dialefl of Soliloqjj y. For it was ac- counted the peculiar of Philofophers and wife Men, to be able to hold themfelves in Talk. And it was their Boafton this account, ct That they " were never lefs alone than when by themfelves " A Knave, they thought, cou'd never be by him- [elf. Not that his Confcience was always fure of giving him Difturbance; but he had not, they fuppos'd, fo much Interefl with himfeif, as to exert this generous Faculty, and raife himfeif a Companion; who being fairly ad- mitted into Partnerfhip, woud quickly mend his Partner, and fet his Affairs on a right foot.
One ADVICE to an Author.
One wou'd think, there was nothing eafier for us, than to know our own Minds, and un- derhand what our main Scope was; what we plainly drove at, and what we propos'd to our- felves, as our End, in every Occurrence of our Lives. But our Thoughts have generally fuch an obfcure implicit Language, that 'tis the hard- eft thing in the world to make 'em fpeak out diftinclly. For this reafon, the right Method is to give em Voice and Accent. And this, in our default, is what the Morahjls or Philojophers en- deavour to do, to our hand; when, as is ufu- al, they hold us out a kind of vocal Looking- Glafs, draw Sound out of our Breaft, and in- ftrucl us to perfoliate our-felves, in the plain- eft manner.
* Illafibi introrfum, et jab Lingua immurmurat: oft Ebullit Patrui prceclarum fumis!
A certain Air of Pleafantry and Humour, which prevails now-a-days in the fafhionable World, gives a Son the alfu ranee to tell a Fa- ther, he has liv'd too I0112:: and a Hnfband the privilege of talking of his Second Wife before his Fuji. But let the airy Gentleman, who *Perf. Sat. 2.
makes 172 AD VICE to an Author.'
makes thus bold with others, retire a-whiie out of Company; and he fcarce dares tell himfelf his Wifhes. Much lefs can he endure to carry on his Thought, as he neceffarily mull, if he enters once thorowly into Himfelf, and proceeds by Interrogatory to form the Home-Acquain- tance and Familiarity requir'd. For thus, af- ter fome druggie, we may fuppofe him to ac- cod himfelf. Ci Tell me now, my honed 1 Heart! Am I really honejt, and of fome worth? 4 or do I only make a fair (how, and am intrin- 4 fecally no better than a Rafcalf As good a ' Friend, a Country-man, or a Relation, as I ' appear outwardly to the World, or as I wou'd 1 willingly perhaps think my-felf to be 3 fhou'd c I not in reality be glad they were hang d, ' any of them, or broke their Necks, who hap- 1 pen'd to dand between Me and the lead por- 1 tion of an Edate? Why not? fmce 'tis my 4 Inter eft. Shou'd I not be glad there- 1 fore to help this matter forwards, and pro- 1 mote my Inter eft, if it lay fairly in my power? No doubt: provided I were fure not ; to be punifli'd for it. And what rea- 1 (on has the greated Rogue in Nature for not 1 doing thus? The fame reafon, and no 1 other. Am I not then, at the bottom, 1 the fame as he? The fame: an arrant ' Villain; tho perhaps more a Coward, and ' not fo perfect in my kind. If Inter eft there- fore 1 fore points me out this Road; whither 1 would Humanity and Companion lead me? 1 Quite contrary. Why therefore do I 1 cherifh fuch Weakneffes? Why do I fympa- 1 thize with others? Why pleafe myfelfinthe 1 Conceit of Worth and Honour? a Character, 4 a Memory, an IJfue, or a Name? What elfe 4 are thefe but Scruples in my way? Where- 1 fore do I thus bely my own Interefl, and by ' keeping my-felf half-Knave, approve my-felf ' a thorow Fool?"
This is a Language we can by no means endure to hold with our-felves; whatever Rail- lery we may ufe with others. We may defend Villany, or cry up Folly, before the World: But to appear Fools, Mad-men, or Varlets, to our-felves; and prove it to our own faces, that we are really fuch, is infupportable. For fo true a Reverence has every-one for himfelf, when he comes clearly to appear before his clofe Companion, that he had rather profefs the vileft things of himfelf in open Company, than hear his Character privately from his own Mouth. So that we may readily from hence conclude, That the chief Intereft of Am- bition, Avarice, Corruption, and every fly infinu- ating Vice, is to prevent this Interview and Familiarity of Difcourfe which is confequent upon 174 ADVICE to an Author, upon clofe Retirement and inward Recefs. Tis the grand Artifice of Villany and Leudncfs, as well as of Superjiiti&n and Bigotry, to put us upon Terms of greater Diftance and Formality with our-felves, and evade our proving Me- thodof Soliloquy. And for this reafon^ how fpecious foever may be the Inftruclion and Doctrine of FormaliJU; their very Manner it- felf is a fufficient Blind or Remora in the way of Honefty and good Senfe.
I am fenfible, that fhou'd my Reader be peradventure a Lover, after the more profound and folemn way of Love, he wou'd be apt to conclude, that he was no Stranger to our pro- posal Method of Practice; being confcious to himfelf of having often made vigorous Excur- fions into thofe folitary Regions above-menti- on'd; where Soliloquy is upheld with mod ad- vantage. He may chance to remember how he has many times addrefs'd the Woods and Rocks in audible articulate Sounds, and feem- ingly expoftulated with himfelfin fuch a man- ner, as if he had really form'd the requifite Diftintlion, and had the Power to entertain himfelf in due form. But it is very apparent, that tho all were true we have here fuppos'd, it can no way reach the Cafe before us. For a paffionate Lover, whatever Solitude he may affecl, can never be truly by himfelf. His Cafe is ADVICE to an Author, 175 is like the Authors who has begun his Court- fhip to the Publick, and is embark'd in an In- trigue which fufficiently amufes, and takes him out of himfelf. Whatever he meditates alone, is interrupted dill by the imagin'd Pre- fence of the Miftrefs hepurfues. NotaThought, not an Expreffion, not a Sigh, which is purely for himfelf. All is appropriated, and all de- voutly tender'd to the Object- of his Paflion. Infomuch that there is nothing ever fo trivial or accidental of this kind, which he is not de- firous fhou'd be witnefs'd by the Party, whofe Grace and Favour he folicits.
Tis the fame Reafon which keeps the ima- ginary Saint, or My/lick, from being capable of this Entertainment. Inflead of looking nar- rowly into his own Nature and Mind, that he may be no longer a Myllery to himfelf, he is taken up with the Contemplation of other ■ myflerious Natures, which he can never ex- - plain or comprehend. He has the Specters of his Zeal before his Eyes; and is as familiar with his Modes, Eflences, Perfonages, and Ex- hibitions of Deity, as the Conjurer with his different Forms, Species, and Orders of Genii or Daemons. So that we make no doubt to affert, th^t not fo much as a reclufe Religi- onifl, a Votary, or Hermit, was ever truly by himfelf. And thus fince neither Lover, Author, Vol. I. M MyJiicK Myftick, or Conjurer (who are the only Clai- mants) can truly or juflly be entitled to a Share in this Self-entertainment; it remains that the only Perfon intitled, is the Man of Senfe, the Sage, or Philofopher. However, fince of all other Characters we are generally the moll inclin'd to favour that of a Lover, it may not, we hope, be impertinent, on this occafion, to recite the Story of an Amour.
A VIRTUOUS young Prince of a he- roick Soul, capable of Love and Friendfhip," made war upon a Tyrant, who was in every refpect his Reverfe. 'Twas the Happinefs of our Prince to be as great a Conqueror by his Clemency and Bounty, as by his Arms and military Virtue. Already he had won over to his Party feveral Potentates and Princes, who before had been fubjecl to the Tyrant. Among thofe who adher'd ftill to the Enemy, there was a Prince, who having all the advantage of Perfon and Merit, had lately been made happy in the PofTefKon and mutual Love of the mofl beautiful Princefs in the World. It happen d that the Occafions of the War call'd the new-marrvd Prince to a diftance from his belov'd Princefs. He left her fecure, as he thought, in a ftrong Caflle, far within the Country: Country: but in his abfence the Place was taken by furprize, and the Princefs brought a Captive to the Quarters of our heroick Prince.
There was in the Camp a young Noble- man, Favourite of the Prince; one who had been educated with him, and was full treated by him with perfect Familiarity. Him he im- mediately fent for, and with uricl Injunctions committed the captive Princefs to his charge; refolvihg fhe fliou'd be treated with that Re- fpecl: which was due to her high Rank and Merit. 'Twras the fame young Lord, who had difcover'd her difguis'd among the Prifoners, and learnt her Story; the particulars of which he now related to the Prince. He fpoke in Extafy on this occafion; telling the Prince how beautiful fhe appear'd, even in the midft of Sorrow; and tho difguis'd under the mean- eft Habit, yet how diflinguifhable, by her Air and Manner, from every other Beauty of her Sex. But what appear'd Itrange to our young Nobleman, was, that the Prince, during this whole relation, difcover'd not the lead Inten- tion of feeing the Lady, or fatisfying that Cu- riofity, which feem'd fo natural on fuch an occafion. He prefs'd him; but without fuc- cefs. " Not fee her, Sir! (faid he, wonder- 178 ADVICE to an Author.
"■ ing) when fhe is fo handfom, beyond what " you have ever feen!"
"For that very reafon, reply'd the Prince, ct I wou'd the rather decline the Interview.. M For fhou'd I, upon the bare Report of her M Beautv, be fo cha-rm'd as to make the firft Vifit at this urgent time of Bufinefs; I may upon fight, with better reafon, be induc'd *' perhaps to vifit her when I am more at " leifure: and fo again and again; till at " lad I may have no leifure left for my Af- " fairs."
"■ Wou'd you, Sir! perfuade me then, raid- " the young Nobleman, fmiling, that a fair ct Face can have fuch Power as to force the " Will it-felf, and conRrain a Man in any re- " fpecl to acl contrary to what he thinks be- tc coming him? Are we to hearken to the Po- " ets in what they tell us of that Incediary 11 Love, and his irrefiuible Flames? A real L'- Flame, we fee, burns all alike. But that ima- " ginary one of Beauty hurts only thofe who " are confenting. It affecls noothervvife, than as we ourfelves are pleas'd to allow it. In many Cafes we abfolutely command it: as where P*.elation and Confanguinity are in the neareft degree. Authority and Law, we fee, can mailer it. But 'twou'd be vain C I C4i ADVICE to an Author. 170, 44 as well as unjuft, for any Law to intermed- 44 die or prefcribe, were not the Cafe volun- 44 tary, and our Will entirely free."
44 How comes it then, reply'd the Prince, that if we are thus Mailers of our Choice, and free at firft to admire and love where we approve, we cannot afterwards as well ceafe to love whenever we fee caufe? This latter Liberty you will hardly defend. For I doubt not, you have heard of many, who tho they were us'd to fet the higheft value upon Liberty before they lov'd, yet afterwards were necejfitated to ferve in the mod abjecl manner: finding themfelves conflrain'd and bound by a ftronger Chain than any of Iron, or Adamant."
44 Such Wretches, reply'd the Youth, I *; have often heard complain; who, if you 44 will believe 'em, are wretched indeed, with- 11 out Means or Power to help themfelves. You 44 may hear 'em in the fame manner complain *c grjevoufly of Life it-felf. But tho there are ct Doors enow to go out of Life, they find it " convenient to keep ftill where they are. " They are the very fame Pretenders, who 44 thro' this Plea of irrejijlible JVeceJfity make 44 bold with what is another's, and attempt 44 unlawful Beds. But the Law, I perceive, M 3 4l makes M 3 4l makes 180 A DVI C E to an Author.
makes bold with them in its turn, as with other Invaders of Property. Neither is it your Cuftom, Sir, to pardon fuch GfFences. So that Beauty it-feif, you mud allow, is innocent and harmlefs, and can compel no- one to do any thing amifs. The Debauc'd compel themfelves, and unjuflly charge their Guilt on Love. They who arehoneft and jun, can admire and love whatever is beau- tiful; without offering at any-thing beyond what is allow'd. How then is it poflible, Sir, that one of your Virtue fhou'd be in pain on any fuch account, or fear fuch a Temptation? You fee, Sir, I am found and whole, after having beheld the Princefs. I have convers'd with her; I have admir'd her in the higheft degree: Yet am my-jelf full, and in my Duty; and fhall be ever in the fame manner at your command."
" 'Tis well (reply'd the Prince:) Keep 4t your-felf fo. Be ever the fame Man: and " look to your Charge carefully, as becomes 41 you. For it may fo happen in the prefent tl pofture of the War, that this Fair Captive " may ft* and us in good flead."
With ADVICE to an Author. 1S1 With this the young Nobleman departed to execute his Commiflion: and immediately took fuch care of the captive Princefs and her Houlhold, that (he feem'd as perfectly obey'd, and had every thing which belonged to her in as great Splendor now, as in her Principa- lity, and in the height of Fortune. He found her in every refpecl deferving, and faw in her a Generohty of Soul which was beyond her other Charms. His Study to oblige her, and foften her Diftrefs, made her in return defirous to exprefs a Gratitude; which he eafily per- ceiv'd. She fhew'd on every occafion a real Concern for his Interefi; and when he hap- pen'd to fall ill, fhe took fuch tender care of him her-felf, and by her Servants, that he feem'd to owe his Recovery to her Friend- fhip.
From thefe Beginnings, infenfibly, and by natural degrees (as may eafdy be con- ceiv'd) the Youth fell defperately in love. At. firft he offer'd not to make the leafl mention of his Paflion to the Princefs. For he fcarce dard tell it to himjelf. But afterwards he grew bolder. She receiv'd his Declaration with an unaffecled Trouble and Concern, fpoke to him as a Friend, to diffuade him as much as poffible from fuch an extravagant Attempt.
M 4 But But when he talk'd to her of Force, flie imme- diately fent away one of her faithful Bomef- ticks to the Prince, to implore his Protection. The Prince receiv'd the Meflage with the ap- pearance of more than ordinary Concern: fent inftantly for one of his firftMinifters; and bid him go with that Domeflick to the young Nobleman, and let him underfland, " That " Force was not to be offer'd to fuch a Lady; •' Perjiiajion he might ufe, if he thought fit."
The Minifter, who was no Friend to the young Nobleman, fail'd not to aggravate the MefTage,' inveigh'd publickly againft him on this occafion, and to his face reproach 'd him as a Traitor and Difhonourer of his Prince and Nation: with all elfe which cou'd be faid againft him, as guilty of the highefl Sacrilege, Perfidioufnefs, and Breach of Truft. So that in reality, the Youth look'd upon his Cafe as defperate, fell into the deeped Melancholy, and prepar'd himfelf for that Fate, which he thought he well deferv'd.
In this Condition the Prince fent to fpeak with him alone: and when he faw him in the utmoft Confufion, V I find, Jaird he, my Friend, ^ I am now become dreadful to you indeed; <l fmce you can neither fee me without Shame, •* nor imagine me to be without Refentment.
But ADVICE to an Author. 183 ' But away with all thofe Thoughts from this ' time forwards. I know how much you have 4 fuffer'd on this occafion. I know the Power ' of Love, and am no otherwife fafe my-felf, 4 than by keeping out of the way of Beauty. 4 -Twas I who was in fault; 'twas I who 4 unhappily match'd you with that unequal 4 Adversary, 'and gave you that impracticable 4 Tafk and hard Adventure, which no-one ' yet was ever flrong enough to accomplifh."
44 In this, Sir, reply'd the Youth, as in all 44 elfe, you exprefs that Goodnefs which is fo 44 natural to you. You have Companion, and 44 can allow for human Frailty; but the reft V of Mankind will never ceafe to upbraid me. 44 Nor (hall I ever be forgiven, were I able ever 44 to forgive myfelf. I am reproach'd by my 44 nearer! Friends. I mufl be odious to all 44 Mankind, wherever I am known. The leaft 44 Puniffiment I can think due to me, is Ba- ** nifhment. for ever from vour Prefence."
"Think not of fuch a thing for ever, fa id 44 the Prince, but truft me: if you retire only "for a while, I (hall fo order it, that you (hall 44 foon return again with the Applaule, even 44 of thofe who are now your Enemys, when 44 they find what a coniiderable Service you 44 fhall have render'd both to them and Me."
Such Such a Hint was fufficient to revive the Spirits of our defpairing Youth. He was tranf- ported to think, that his Misfortunes cou'd be turn'd any way to the Advantage -of his Prince: he enter'd with Joy into the Scheme the Prince had laid for him, and appear'd eager to de- part, and execute what was appointed him. 41 Can you then, faid the Prince, refolve to li quit the charming Princefs?"
44 O Sir! reply'd the Youth, well am I now fatisfy'd, that I have in reality within me two dijtintlfeparate Souls. This Leflbn of Phi- lofophy I have learnt from that villanous So- phifter Love. For 'tis impoflTible to believe, that having one and the fame Soul, it fhou'd be actually both Good and Bad, paffionate 44 for Virtue and Vice, defirous of Contrarys. 44 No. There mud of neceflity be Two: and 41 when the Good prevails, 'tis then we acl hand- 44 fomly; when the III, then bafely and villa- tc noufly. Such, was my Cafe. For lately the III Soul was wholly Mailer. But now the Good prevails, by your affiftance; and I am plainly a new Creature, with quite ano- ther Apprehenfwn, another Rcajon, another Will."
THUS it u i. L C4 ADVICE to an Author. 18 THUS it may appear how far a Lover by his own natural Strength may reach the chief Principle of Philofophy, and underftand our Doclrine of Two Ptrfons in one individual Self. Not that our Courtier, we fuppofe, was able, of himfelf, to form this Dijlinclion juflly and ac- cording to Art. For cou'd he have effected this, he wou'd have been able to cure himfelf, without the afiinance of his Prince. However he was wife enough to fee in the iifue, that his Independency.and Freedom were mere Gloffes, and Refolution a Nofe of Wax. For let Will be ever fo free, Humour and Fancy, we fee, go- vern it. And thefe, as free as we fuppofe 'em, are often changd we know not how, without afkingour confent, or giving us any account. If * Opinion be that which governs, and makes the change; 'tis it-felf as liable to be govern'd, and vary'd in its turn. And by what I can obferve of the World, Fancy and Opinion (land pretty much upon the fame bottom. So that if there be no certain Infpeclor or Auditor eflab- lifh'd within us, to take account of thefe Opi- nions and Fancys in due form, and minutely to animadvert upon their feveral Growths and Habits, we are as little like to continue a Day in the fame Will, as a Tree, during a Summer, * Injra, p. 524. And VOL. III. p. HjS, mjj.
in in the fame Shape, without the Gard'ner's Aflif- tance, and the vigorous Application of the Sheers and Pruning-Knife, A s cruel a Court as the Inquifition appears; there rauft, it feems, be full as formidable a one, erecled in our-felves; if we wou'd pre- tend to that Uniformity of Opinion which is neceffary to hold us to one Will, and preferve us in the fame mind, from one day to another. Philofophy, at this rate, will be thought per- haps little better than Perfecution: and a Su- preme Judge in matters of Inclination and Ap- petite, mull needs go exceedingly againfl the Heart. Every pretty Fancy is diflurb'd by it: Every Pleafure interrupted by it. The Courfe of good Humour will hardly allow it: And the Pleafantry of Wit almoft abfolutely rejecls it. It appears, befides, like a kind of Pedantry, to be thus magifterial with our-felves; thus ftricl; over our Imaginations, and with all the airs of a real Pedagogue to be folicttoufly taken up in the four Care and Tutorage of fo many boyifh Fancys, unlucky Appetites and Defires, which are perpetually playing truant, and need Correction.
We hope, however, that by our Method of Practice, and the help of the grand Arcanum, which we have profefs'd to reveal, this Regimen or ADVICE to an Author. 187 or Difcipline of the Fancys may not in the end prove fo fevere or mortifying as is imagin'd. We hope alfo that our Patient (for fuch we na- turally fuppofe our Reader) will confider duly with himfelf, that what he endures in this Ope- ration is for no inconfiderable End: fi'nce 'tis to gain him a Will, and infure him a certain Refo-lution; by which he (hall know where to find himfelf; be fure of his own Meaning and Defign; and as to all his Defires, Opinions, and Inclinations, be warranted one and the fame Per- fon to day asyefterday, and to morrow as to day.
This, perhaps, will be thought a Miracle, by one who well confiders the Nature of Man- kind, and the Growth, Variation, and Inflec- tion of Appetite and Humour. For Appetite, which is elder Brother to Reason, being the Lad of ftronger growth, is fure, on every Con- teft, to take the advantage of drawing all to his own fide. And Will, fo highly boafted, is, at belt, merely a Top or Foot-Ball between thefe Youngfters, who prove very unfortuna- tely match'd; till the youngelt, inftead of now and then a Kick or Laftibeftow'd to little pur- pofe, forfakes the Ball or Top it-felf, and be- gins to lay about his elder Brother. 'Tis then that the Scene changes. For the elder, like an arrant Coward, upon this Treatment, prefent- ly grows civil, and affords the younger as fair Play afterwards as he can defire.