And here it is that our Sovereign Remedy and Gymnajlkk Method of Solii.oq.uy takes its rife: when by a certain powerful Figure of inward Rhetorick, the Mindapo/lropkizes its own Fancys, raifes em in their proper Shapes and Perfonages, and addrefles 'em familiarly, with- out the leaf! Ceremony or Refpecl. By this means it will foon happen, that Two form'd Partys will erecl themfelves withm. For the Ima- ginations or Fancys being thus roundly treat- ed, are forc'd to declare themfelves, and take party. Thofe on the fide of the elder Brother ApPETiTE,areflrangely fubtleand infmuating. They have always the Faculty to fpeak by Nods and Winks. By this practice they conceal half their meaning, and, like modern Politicians, pafs for deeply wife, and adorn themfelves with the nneft Pretext and mofl fpecious GlofTes ima- ginable; till being confronted with their Fel- lows of a Plainer Language and Expreffion, they are forc'd to quit their myflerious Man- ner, and difcover themfelves mere Sophiflers and Impoftors, who have not the leafl to do with the Party of Reason and good Senje.
Accordingly we might now proceed to exhibit diftindly, and in due method, the Form and Manner of this Probation, or Exer-- cife% ADVICE to an Author. 189 cife, as it regards all Men in general. But the Cafe of Authors, in particular, being, as we apprehend, the mon urgent; we (hall apply our Rule in thenrft place to thefe Gentlemen, whom it fo highly imports to know them- felves, and underfland the natural Strength and Powers, as well as the Weaknejfes of a hu- man Mind. For without this Underftanding, the Hijloriaris Judgment will be very defective; the Politicians Views very narrow, and chime- rical; and the Poet's Brain, however ftock'd with Ficlion, will be but poorly furnifh'd; as in the fequel we (hall make appear. He who deals in Characters, muft of neceffity know his own; or he will know nothing. And he who wou'd give the World a profitable Entertain- ment of this fort, fhou'd be hire to profit, firft, by himfelf. For in this fenfe, Wijdom as well as Charity may be honeftly faid to begin at home. There is no way of eftimating Manners, or ap- prizing the different Humours, Fancy s, Pajfions and Apprehenfions of others, without firfl taking an Inventory of the fame kind of Goods within ourfelves, and furveying our domeuick Fund. A little of this Home-?r&&icz will ferve to make great Difcoverys.
Tecum habit a, et nor is qnam fit tibi cur ta fup el- lex. Perf. Sat. 4.
WHOEVER has been an Obferver of Action and Grace in human Bodys, niuft of neceffity have difcoverd the great difference in this refpecl between fuch Perfons as have been taught by Nature only, and fuch as by Reflection, and the affiftance of Art, have learnt to form thofe Motions which on expe- rience are found the ealieft and mo ft natural. Of the former kind are either thofe good Rufticks, who have been bred remote from the form'd Societys of Men; or thofe plain Arti- zans, and People of lower Rank, who living in Gitys and Places of refort, have been neceffi- tated however to follow- mean Imployments, and wanted the Opportunity and Means to form themfelves after the better Models. There are fome Perfons indeed fo happily form'd by Nature herfelf, that with the greater! Simpli- city or Rudenefs of Education, they have ftill fomething of a natural Grace and Comelinefs in their Action: And there are others of a better Education, who by a wrong Aim and injudi- cious Affectation of Grace, are of all People the farther! remov'd from it. 'Tis undeniable however, that the Perfection of Grace and Comelinefs in Action and Behaviour, can be found only among the People of a liberal Edu- cation.
ADVICE to an Author, igi cation. And even among the graceful of this kind, thofe ftill are found the gracefulleft, who early in their Youth have learnt their Exerci- fes, and form'd their Motions under the bell Majlers.
Now fuch as thefe Majlers and their Leffons are to a fine Gentleman, fuch are Phi lof op hers, and Philofophy, to an Author. The Cafe is the fame in the fajhionable, and in the literate World. In the former of thefe 'tis remark'd, that by the help of good Company, and the force of Ex- ample merely, a decent Carriage is acquird, with fuch apt Motions and fuch a Freedom of Limbs, as on all ordinary occafions may en- able the Party to demean himfelf like a Gentle- man. But when upon further occafion, trial is made in an extraordinary way; when Exer- cifes of the genteeler kind are to be perform 'd in publick, 'twill eafily appear who of the Pre- tenders have been form'd by Rudiments, and had Mailers in private; and who, on the other fide, have contented themfelves with bare Imi- tation, and learnt their Part cafually and by rote. The Parallel is eafily made on the fide of Writers. They have at leaft as much need of learning the feveral Motions, Counter-poifes and Balances of the Mind and Paffions, as the other Students thofe of the Body and Limbs.
Vol. I. N Scribendi •v Scribendi rette, fapere ejl et principium et forts. Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt oflendere Chartae.
The Gala?it, no doubt, may pen a Letter to his Miftrefs, as the Courtier may a Compliment to the Minifler, or the Minifter to the Favourite above him, without going fuch vaft Depths in- to Learning or Philofophy. But for thefe pri- vilegd Gentlemen, tho they fet Fafhions and prefcribe Rules in other Cafes,* they are no Controulers in the Commonwealth of Letters. Nor are they prefum'd to write to the Age, or for remote Posterity. Their Works are not of a nature to intitle 'em to hold the Rank of Au- * Hor. de Arte Poet See even the diflblute Petronius's Judgment of a Writer.
Artisfeirneji qris amat effeclus, Mentemque magnis appl'/cat; prius more Frugalitatis lege polleal cxacla; A ec caret alto regiam trucemvullu.
neve plaufor in Scana Sedeat redemptus, Hijlrionite addiElus.
Mox et Socratico plains grege, mutet habenas Liber, et ingentis quatiat Denuflhenis arma.
• His animum Jiiccinge bonis, fie Jlumine larg* Plenus, Pierio defimdes peftore verba.
tkors ADVICE to an Author. 193 thors, or be ftyl'd Writers by way of Excellence in the kind. Shou'd their Ambition lead 'em into fuch a Field, they wou'd be oblig'd to come otherwife equip'd. They who enter the pub- lick Lifts, muft come duly train'd, and exer- cis'd, like well appointed Cavaliers, expert in Arms, and well inftrucled in the Ufe of their Weapon, and Management of their Steed. For to be well accouter'd, and well mounted, is not fufficient. The Horfe alone can never make the Horjeman; nor Limbs the Wrejiler or the Dan- cer. No more can a Genius alone make a Po- et; or good Parts a Writer, in any considerable kind. The Skill and Grace of Writing is found- ed, as our wife Poet tells us, in Knowledge and good Senfe': and not barely in that Knowledge, which is to be learnt from common Authors, or the general Converfation of the World; but from thofe particular Rules of Art, which Phi- lofophy alone exhibits.
The Philofophical Writings, to which our Poet in his Art oj Poetry refers, were in them- felves a kind of Poetry, like the * Mimes, or per- fonated Pieces of early times, before Philofophy was in vogue, and when as yet Dramatical Imi- tation was fcarce form'd; or at leaft, in many Infra,- f>ag. 254. in the Notes.
N 2 Parts, Parts, not brought to due perfection. They were Pieces which, befides their force of Style, and hidden Numbers, carry'd a fort of Action and Imitation, the fame as the Epick and Dra- matirk kinds. They were either real Dialogues, or Pcecitals of fuch pcrjonated Difcourfes; where the Perfons themfelves had their Characters pre- fervd thro'-out; their Manners, Humours, and diftincl Turns of Temper and Understanding maintain'd, according to the moft exacl; poetical Truth. Twas not enough that thefe Pieces treat- ed fundamentally of Mot als, and in confequence pointed out real Characters and Manners: They exhibited em alive, and fet the Countenances and Complexions of Men plainly in view. And by this means they not only taught Us to know Others; but, what was principal and of highefl virtue in 'em, they taught us to know Our- J elves.
The Philofophical Here of thefe Poems, whofe Name they carry'd both in their Body and Front, and whofe Genius and Manner they were made to repiefent, was in himfelf a perfect Char after; yet, in fome refpecls, fo veil'd, and in a Cloud, that to the unattentive Surveyor he feem'd of- ten to be very different from what he really was: and this chiefly by reafon of a certain ex- quifite and refin'd Raillery which belong'd to his Manner, and by virtue of which he cou'd trca?: ADVICE to an Author, 1Q5 treat the higheft Subjects, and thofe of the commoneft Capacity both together, and ren- der em explanatory of each other. So that in this Genius of writing, there appear'd both the heroick and tkejimple, the iragick, and the co- mick Van. However, it was fo order 'd, that notwithfianding the Oddnefs or Myfteriouf- nefs of the principal Character, the Under- pcrts or Jecond Characters fhew'd human Nature more dillinclly, and to the Life. We might here, therefore, as in a Looking-Glafs, difcover - our-felves, and fee our minuted Features nice- ly delineated, and futed to our own Appre- henfion and Cognizance. No-one who was ever fo little a-while an Infpeclor, cou'd fail of be- coming acquainted with his own Heart. And, what was of {insular note in thefe magical Glaffes, it wou'd happen,' that by conflant and long Infpeclion, the Partys accuftom'd to the Practice, wou'd acquire a peculiar fpeculative Habit; fo as virtually to carry about with 'em a fort of Pocket- Mir r our, always ready, and in ufe. In this, there were Tim Faces which wou'd naturally prefent themfelves to our \iew: One of them, like the commanding Genius, the Leader and Chief above-mention'd; the other like that rude, undifciplin'd and head-nrong Creature, whom we our-felves in our natural Capacity mod exactly refembled. Whatever we were emplov'd in, whatever we fet about; N3 if if once we had acquir'd the habit of this Mir* rour; we fhoud, by virtue of the double Re- flection, diftinguim our-felves into two diffe- rent Party s. And in this Dramatick Method, the Work of Self-lnfpeclion wou'd proceed with admirable Succefs.
Tis no wonder that the primitive Poets were eneem'd fuch Sages in their Times; fince it appears, they were fuch well-praclis'd Dia- logifls, and accuftom'd to this improving Me- thod, before ever Philofophy had adopted it. Their Mimes or characleriz'd Difcourfes were as much relifh'd, as their mofl regular Poems; and were the Occafio'n perhaps that fo many of thefe latter were form'd in fuch perfection. For Poetry it-felf was defin'd an Imitation chief- ly of Men and Manners: and was that in an exalted and noble degree, which in a low one we call Mimic kry. 'Tis in this that the great * Monographer, the Father and Prince of Poets, excels fo highly; his characters being wrought to a Likenefs beyond what any fucceeding Mailers were ever able to defcribe. Nor are his Works, which are fo full of Aclion, any other than an artful Series or Chain of Dialogues, ADVICE to an Author. 197 logues, which turn upon one remarkable Cata- jtrophe or Event. He defcribes no Qualitys or Virtues; cenfures no Manners: makes no Encomiums, nor gives Characters himfelf; but brings his Actors full in view. 'Tis they who fhew themfelves. Tis they who fpeak in fuch a manner, as diflinguifhes 'em in all things from all others, and makes 'em ever like them- felves. Their different Compofitions and Al- lays fo juftly made, and equally carry'd on, thro' every particle of the Action, give more Inftruction than all the Comments or Gloffes in the world. The Poet, inftead of giving him- felf thofe dictating and mafterly Airs of Wif- dom, makes hardly any figure at all, and is fcarce discoverable in his Poem. This is be- ing truly a Mqfter. He paints fo as to need no Infcription over his Figures, to tell us what they are, or what he intends by em. A few words let fall, on any flight occafion, from any of the Partys he introduces, are fufficient to denote their Manners and difUnct Charac- ter. From a Finger or a Toe, he can repre- fent to our Thoughts the Frame and Fafhion of a whole Body. He wants no other help of Art, to perfonate his Heroes, and make 'em living. There was no more left for Tragedy to do after him, than to erect a Stage, and draw his Dialogues and Characters into Scenes; turning in the fame manner, upon one prin- N 4 cipal igS ADVICE to an Author.
cipal A&ion or Event, with that regard to Place and Time which was futable to a real Speclacle. Even * Comedy it-felf was adjudged to this great Matter; it being deriv'd from thofe Parody s or Mock-Humours, of which he had given the + Specimen in a conceal'd fort of Raillery intermix'd with the Sublime — A dangerous Stroke of Art! and which requir'd a mafterly Hand, like that of the philofophi- cal Hero, whofe Character was reprefented in the Dialogue-Writings above-mention'd.
From hence poflibly we may form a No- tion of that Refemblance, which on fo many occafions was heretofore remark'd between the Prince of Poets, and the Divine Philofopher, who was faid to rival him, and who together with his Contemporarys of the fame School, writ wholly in that manner of Dialogue above-defcrib'd. From hence too we may comprehend perhaps, why the Study of Dia- logue was heretofore thought fo advantageous to Writers, and why this manner of Writing was judg'd fo difficult, which at firft fight, it mud be own'd, appears the eafieft of any.
I H A v e formerly wonderd indeed why a Manner, which was familiarly us'd in Treatifes * Infra, pag. 246, 253. in the Notes.
i No: only in his Margites, but even in his Iliad and OdyJJee.
upon ADVICE to an Author. 199 upon mofl Subjects, with fo much Succefs a- mong the Antients, fliou'd be fo infipid and of little efteem with us Moderns. But I after- wards perceive!, that befides the difficulty of the Manner it-felf, and that Mirr our- Fatuity, which we have obferv'd it to carry in refpecl of our-felves, it proves alfo of neceflity a kind of Mirrour or Looking-Glafs to the Age. If fo; it fhou'd of confequence (youl fay) be the more agreeable and entertaining. True; if the real View of our-felves be not perhaps difpleafmg to us. But why more difpleafing to Us than to the Antients?
Becaufe perhaps they cou'd with jufl reafon bear to fee their natural Countenances repre- sented. And why not We the fame? What fliou'd difcourage us? For are we not as handfom, at leaft in our own Eyes? Per- haps not: as we fhall fee, when we have con- fider'd a little further what the force is of this Mirrour-Writing, and how it differs from that more complaifant modifli way, in which an Author, inflead of presenting us with other na- tural Characters, fets off his own with the utmoft Art, and purchafes his Reader's Favour by all imaginable Compliances and Condcfcenfions.
AN AUTHOR who writes in his own Perfon, has the advantage of being who or what f 200 A D VICE to an Author.
what he pleafes. He is no certain Man, nor has any certain or genuine Character: but futes himfelf, on every occafion, to the Fancy of his Reader, whom, as the faihion is now-a- clays, he conftantly careffes and cajoles. All turns upon their two Perfons. And as in an Amour, or Commerce of Love-Letters; fo here the Author has the Privilege of talking eter- nally of himfelf, dreffing and fprucing himfelf up; whilft he is making diligent court, and working upon the Humour of the Party to whom he addrefles. This is the Coquetry of a modern Author; whofe Epiftles Dedicatory, Prefaces, and Addrefles to the Reader, are fo many affecled Graces, defign'd to draw the At- tention from the Subject, towards Himfelf; and make it be generally obferv'd, not fo much what he fays, as what he appears, or is, and what figure he already makes, or hopes to make, in the fafhionable World.
These are the Airs which a neighbouring: Nation give themfelves, more particularly in what they call their Memoirs. Their very Ef- fays on Politicks, their Philofophical and Criti- cal Works, their Comments upon antient and modern Authors, all their Treatifes are Memoirs. The whole Writing of this Age is become in- deed a fort of Memoir '-Writing. Tho in the re- al Memoirs of the Antients, even when they writ AD VI C E to an Author, 201 writ at any time concerning themfelves, there was neither the / nor Thou thro'out the whole Work. So that all this pretty Amour and Intercourfe of Careffes between the Author and Reader was thus intirely taken away.
Much more is this the Cafe in Dialogue. For here the Author is annihilated; and the Reader being no way apply'd to, ftand for No- body. The felf-interefling Partys both vanifh at once. The Scene prefents it-felf, as by chance, and undefign'd. You are not only left to judge coolly, and with indifference, of the Senfe deliver d; but of the Character, Ge- nius, Elocution, and Manner of the Perfons who deliver it. Thefe two are mere Stran- gers, in whofe favour you are no way engag'd. Nor is it enough that the Perfons introdue'd fpeak pertinent and good Senfe, at every turn. It muft be feen from what Bottom they fpeak; from what Principle, what Stock or Fund of Knowledge they draw; and what Kind or Spe- cies of Underftanding they poftefs. For the Underftanding here muft have its Mark, its characleriftick Note, by which it may be cM- tinguifli'd. It muft be fuch and juch an Under- Jlanding; as when we fay, for inftance, -fuck or Juch a Face: fmce Nature has chara&eriz'd Tempers and Minds as peculiarly as Faces. And for an Artift who draws naturally, 'tis not enough enough enough to (hew us merely Faces which may be call'd Mens: Every Face mud be a certain Maris.
Now as a Painter who draws Battles or other Actions of Chriftians, Turks, Indians, or anydinincl and peculiarPeople, muff of necef- fity draw the feveral Figures of his Piece in their proper and real Proportions, Geflures, Habits, Arms, or at leaft with as fair refem- blance as poffible; fo in the fame manner that Writer, whoever he be, among us Moderns, who (hall venture to bring his Fellow- Moderns into Dialogue^ mud introduce 'em in their pro- per Manners, Genius, Behaviour and Humour. And this is the Mirrour or Looking-Glajs above defcribd.
For indance, a Dialogue, we will fuppofe, is fram'd, after the manner of our antient Au- thors. In it, a poor Philofopher, of a mean figure, accofts one of the powerfulleft, wittier!, handfomeft, and richeft Noblemen of the time, as he is walking leifurely towards the Temple. ".You are going then, fays he, (calling him "• by his plain name) to pay your Devotions at yonder at the Temple? I am fo.
" But with an Air methinks, as if fome Thought "■ perplex'dyou. What is there in the Cafe UL which fhou'd perplex one? The Thought cw perhaps ADVICE to an Author. 203 ' perhaps of your Petitions, and the Confider- 4 ation what Vows you had bed offer to the 1 Deity. Is that fo difficult? Can any one 1 be fo foolifh as to afk of Heaven what is not 1 for his Good? Not, if he underflands what 1 his Good is. Who can miftake it, if he 1 has commom Senfe, and knows the difference ' between Profperity and Adverfity?. 'Tis ' Profperity therefore you wou'd pray for. 1 Undoubtedly. For inftance, that abfoluteSo- ' vereign, who cammands all things by virtue ' of his immenfe Treafures, and governs by ' his fole Will and Pleafure, him you think ' frofperous, and his State happy."
Whilst I am copying this (for 'tis no more indeed than a borrow'd Sketch from one of thole Originals before-mention'd) I fee a thou- fand Ridicules ariiing from the Manner, the Cii cumltances and Action it-felf, compar'd with modern Breeding and Civility. — Let us there- fore mend the matter, if poffible, and introduce the fame Philofopher, addrefling himfelf in a more obfequious manner, to his Grace, his Ex- cellency, or his Honour; without failing in the leaft tittle of the Ceremonial. Or let us put the Cafe more favourably Mill for our Man of Letters. Let us fuppofe him to be incognito, without the leaf! appearance of a Character, which in our Age is fo little recommending.
Let 204 ADVICE to an Author.
Let his Garb and Aclion be of the more mo- difh fort, in order to introduce him better, and gain him Audience. And with thefe Advan- tages and Precautions, imagine Hill in what manner he muff, accofl this Pageant of State, if at any time he finds him at leifure, walking in the Fields alone, and without his Equipage. Confider how many Bows, and fimpering Fa- ces! how many Preludes, Excufes, Compli- ments! — Now put Compliments, put Ceremony in- to a Dialogue, and fee what will be the Eifecl!
This is the plain Dilemma againft that an- tient manner of Writing, which we can nei- ther well imitate, nor tranflate; whatever Plea- fure or Profit we may find in reading thofe Ori- ginals. For what fhall we do in fuch a Cir- cumftance? What if the Fancy takes us, and we refolve to try the Experiment in modern Subjects? See the Confequence! — If we avoid Ceremony, we are unnatural: if we ufe it, and appear as we naturally are, as we falute, and meet, and treatone another, wehatetheSight. — What's this but hating our own Faces? Is it the Painters Fault? Shou'd he paint falfly, or af- fecledly; mix Modern with Antient, join Shapes preponeroufly,,and betray his Art? If not; what Medium is there? What remains for him, but to throw away the Pencil? ——No more defigning ADVICE to an Author. 205 figning after the Life: no more Mirrour-Wri- ting, or perfonal Reprefentation of any kind whatever.
THUS Dialogue is at an end. The Antients cou'd fee their own Faces? but we can t.
And why this? Why, but becaufe we have lefs Beauty: For fo our Looking- Glafs can inform us. Ugly Inflrument!
And for this reafon to be hated. Our Com- merce and manner of Converfation, which we think the politefl imaginable, isfuch, it feems, as weour-felves can't endure to fee represented to the Life. 'Tis here, as in our real Portrai- tures, particularly thofe at full Length, where the poor Pencil-man is put to a thoufand fhifts, whilft he ftrives to drefs us in affecled Habits, fuch as we never wore; becaufe Ihou'd he paint us in thofe we really wear, they wou'd of neceffity make the Piece to be fomuch more ridiculous, as it was more natural, and re- femblinsr.
O" Thus much for Antiquity, and thofe Rules of Art, thofe Philojophicat Sen-Cards, by which the adventurous Genius's of the Times were wont to fleer their Courfes, and govern their impetuous Mufe. Thefe weie the Chartae of our Roman M after-Poet, and theie the Pieces of 206 ADVICE to an Author.
of Art, the Mirrours, the Exemplars he bids us place before our Eyes * —. — fas Exemplar ia Grccca JSockirna v erf ate manu, verfate diurna.
And thus Poetry and the Writer s Art, as in many refpecls it refembles the Statuary s and the Painters, fo in this more particularly, that it has its original Draughts and Models for Study and Practice; not for Orientation, to be Ihown abroad, or copy'd for publick view. Thefe are the antient Bufls; the Trunks of Statues; the Pieces of Anatomy; themafterly rough Draw- ings which are kept within; as the fecret Learn- ing, the Myflery, and fundamental Knowledge of the Art. There is this eflfential difference however between the Artiits of each kind; that they who defign merely after Bodys, and form the Graces of this fort, can never, with all their Accuracy, or Correclnefs of Defign, be able to reform themfelves, or grow a jot more ihapely in their Perfons. But for thofe Art- ids who copy from another Life, who ftudy the Graces and Perfeclions of Minds, and are real Mafxers of thofe Rules which confti- tute this latter Science; 'tis impoilible they fhou'd fail of being themfelves improv'd, and amended in their better Pari.
•lor. de Arte Poet. v. 26S.
ADVICE to an Author.
I Must confefs there is hardly any where to be found a more infipid Race of Mortals, than thofe whom we Moderns are contented to call Poets, for having attain'd the chiming Faculty of a Language, with an injudicious random ufe of Wit and Fancy. But for the Man, who truly and in a juft fenfe deferves the Name of Poet, and who as a real Mailer, or Ar- chitect in the kind, can defcribe both Men and Manners, and give to an A&ion its juft body and Proportions; he will be found, if I miftake not, a very different Creature. Such a Poet is indeed a fecond Maker; a j uft P ro m e t h e u s, under J ove. Like that Sovereign Artift or univerfal Plaftick Nature, he forms a Whole, coherent and propor- tion^ in it-felf, with due Subjection and Su- bordinacy of conflituent Parts. He notes the Boundarys of the Paffions, and knows their ex- act Tones and Meajures; by which he juftly re- prefents them, marks the Sublime of Sentiments and Action, and diltinguifhes the Beautiful from the Deform cU the Amiable from the Odious. The moral Artift, who can thus imitate the Crea- tor, and is thus knowing in the inward Form and Structure of his Fellow-Creature, will hard- ly, I prefume, be found unknowing in Himfelf or at a lofs in thofe Numbers which make the Harmony of a Mind. For Knavery is mere Dif funance and Difproportion. And tho Villains Vol. I. O may may have flrong Tones and natural Capacitys of Action; 'tis impoflible that * true Judgment and Ingenuity fhou'd refide, where Harmony and Honejly have no being.