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• Miscellaneous Reflections
• Miscellany I
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Of the Nature, Rise, and Establishment of Miscellanys. —— the Subject of These Which Follow. —— Intention of the Writer.
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Of Controversial Writings: Answers: Replies. —polemick Divinity; Or the Writing Church-militant. —philosophers, and Bear-garden. —authors Pair’d and Match’d.—the Match-makers.—foot-ball.—a Dialogue Between Our Author and His
• Chap. 3. Chapter III: Of the Letter Concerning Enthusiasm.— Foreign Criticks.—of Letters In General; and of the Epistolary Style.—addresses to Great Men.—authors and Horsemanship.—the Modern Amble.—further Explanation of the Miscellaneous Manner.
• Miscellany Ii
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Review of Enthusiasm. — Its Defense, Praise: — Use In Business As Well As Pleasure: — Operation By Fear, Love. — Modifications of Enthusiasm: Magnanimity; Heroick Virtue; Honour; Publick Zeal; Religion; Superstition; Persecution; Ma
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Judgment of Divines and Grave Authors Concerning Enthusiasm.— Reflections Upon Scepticism.— a Sceptick-christian.—judgment of the Inspir’d Concerning Their Own Inspirations. —knowledg and Belief.— History of Religion Resum’d. — Ze
• Chap. 3. Chapter III: Of the Force of Humour In Religion.—support of Our Author’s Argument In His Essay On the Freedom of Wit and Raillery.— Zeal Discuss’d. Spiritual Surgeons: Executioners: Carvers.—original of Human Sacrifice.— Exhilaration of
• Miscellany Iii
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Further Remarks On the Author of the Treatises.— His Order and Design. — His Remarks On the Succession of Wit, and Progress of Letters, and Philosophy.— of Words, Relations, Affections. — Country-men and Country. — Old England
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Explanation of a Taste Continu’d. — Ridiculers of It. — Their Wit, and Sincerity. — Application of the Taste to Affairs of Government and Politicks. — Imaginary Characters In the State.— Young Nobility, and Gentry. — Pursuit of
• Miscellany Iv
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Connexion and Union of the Subject-treatises.— Philosophy In Form. — Metaphysicks. — Ego - Ity. Identity. — Moral Footing. — Proof and Discipline of the Fancys. Settlement of Opinion. — Anatomy of the Mind.— a Fable.
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Passage From Terra Incognita to the Visible World. — Mistress-ship of Nature. — Animal-confederacy, Degrees, Subordination. — Master-animal Man. Privilege of His Birth. — Serious Countenance of the Author.
• Miscellany V
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Ceremonial Adjusted, Between Author and Reader. — Affectation of Precedency In the Former. — Various Claim to Inspiration. — Bards; Prophets: Sibylline Scripture. — Written Oracles; In Verse and Prose.— Common Interest of Antie
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Generation and Succession of Our National and Modern Wit.—manners of the Proprietors.— Corporation and Joint-stock—statute Against Criticism. a Coffee-house Committee.—mr. Bays. — Other Bays’ S In Divinity.—censure of Our Author
• Chap. 3. Chapter III: Of Extent Or Latitude of Thought. —free- Thinkers. — Their Cause, and Character. — Dishonesty, a Half-thought.— Short-thinking, Cause of Vice and Bigotry. — Agreement of Slavery and Superstition.— Liberty, Civil, Moral, Spir
• The Judgment of Hercules
• Intro. Introduction
• Chap. 1. Chapter I: Of the General Constitution Or Ordonnance of the Tablature
• Chap. 2. Chapter II: Of the First Or Principal Figure
• Chap. 3. Chapter III: Of the Second Figure
• Chap. 4. Chapter IV: Of the Third Figure
• Chap. 5. Chapter V: Of the Ornaments of the Piece; and Chiefly of the Drapery, and Perspective
• Chap. 6. Chapter VI: Of the Casual Or Independent Ornaments
• Conc. Conclusion
• A Letter Concerning the Art, Or Science of Design, Written From Italy, On the Occasion of the Judgment of Hercules, to My Lord * * * *

MISCELLANY III

Chap. 1.CHAPTER I

Further Remarks on the Author of the Treatises.—His Order and Design.—His Remarks on theSuccessionof Wit, and Progress of Letters, and Philosophy.—Of Words, Relations, Affections.—Country-Men and Country.—OldEngland.—Patriots of the Soil.—Virtuosi, and Philosophers.—ATaste.

HAVING already asserted my Privilege, as a Miscellaneous or Essay-Writer of the modern Establishment; to write on every Subject, and in every Method, as I fansy; to use Order, or lay it aside, as I think fit; and to treat of Order and Method in other Works, tho free perhaps and unconfin’d as to my own: I shall presume, in this place,[133] to consider the present Method and Order of my Author’s Treatises, as in this joint-Edition they are rang’d.

Notwithstanding the high Airs of Scepticism which our Author assumes in his first Piece; I cannot, after all, but imagine that even there he proves himself, at the bottom, a realDogmatist, and shews plainly that he has his private Opinion, Belief, or Faith, as strong as any Devotee or Religionist of ’em all. Tho he affects perhaps to strike at other Hypotheses and Schemes; he has something of his own still in reserve, and holds a certain Plan or System peculiar to him-self, or such, at least, in which he has at present but few Companions or Followers.

On this account I look upon his Management to have been much after the rate of some ambitiousArchitect; who being call’d perhaps to prop a Roof, redress a leaning Wall, or add to some particular Apartment, is not contented with this small Specimen of his Mastership: but pretending to demonstrate the Un-serviceableness and Inconvenience of the old Fabrick, forms the Design of a new Building, and longs to shew his Skill in the principal Parts of Architecture and Mechanicks.[134]

’Tis certain that in matters of Learning and Philosophy, the Practice of pulling down is far pleasanter, and affords more Entertainment, than that of building and setting up. Many have succeeded, to a miracle, in the first, who have miserably fail’d in the latter of these Attempts. We may find a thousand Engineers, who can sap, undermine, and blow up, with admirable Dexterity, for one single-one, who can build a Fort, or lay the Plat-form of a Citadel. And tho Compassion in real War may make the ruinous Practice less delightful, ’tis certain that in the literate warring-World, the springing of Mines, the blowing up of Towers, Bastions, and Ramparts of Philosophy, with Systems, Hypotheses, Opinions, and Doctrines into the Air, is a Spectacle of all other, the most naturally rejoicing.

Our Author, we suppose, might have done well to consider this. We have fairly conducted him thro’ his first and secondLetter, and have brought him, as we see here, into his third Piece. He has hitherto, methinks, kept up his sapping Method, and unravelling Humour, with tolerable good Grace. He has given only some few, and very slender * Hints of going fur[135]ther, or attempting to erect any Scheme or Model, which may discover his Pretence to a real Architect-Capacity. Even in this his Third Piece he carrys with him the same sceptical Mein: and what he offers by way of Project or Hypothesis, is very faint, hardly spoken aloud; but mutter’d to himself, in a kind of dubious Whisper, or feign’d Soliloquy. What he discovers of Form and Method, is indeed so accompany’d with the random Miscellaneous Air, that it may pass for Raillery, rather than good Earnest. ’Tis in his following * Treatise that he discovers himself openly, as a plain Dogmatist, a Formalist, and Man of Method; with his Hypotheses tack’d to him, and his Opinions so close-sticking, as wou’d force one to call to mind the Figure of some precise and strait-lac’d Professor in a University.

What may be justly pleaded in his behalf, when we come in company with[136] him, to inquire into such solemn and profound Subjects, seems very doubtful. Mean while, as his Affairs stand hitherto in this his Treatise of Advice, I shall be contented to yoke with him, and proceed, in my miscellaneous Manner, to give my Advice also to Men of Note; whether they are Authors or Politicians, Virtuosi or Fine-Gentlemen; comprehending Him, the said Author, as one of the Number of the Advis’d, and My-self too (if occasion be) after his own example of Self-Admonition and private Address.

BUT FIRST as to our Author’s Dissertation in this †third Treatise, where his Reflections upon Authors in general, and the Rise and Progress of Arts, make the Inlet or Introduction to his Philosophy; we may observe, That it is not without some appearance of Reason that he has advanc’d this Method. It must be acknowledg’d, that tho, in the earliest times, there may have been divine Men of a transcending Genius, who have given Laws both in Religion and Government, to the great Advantage and Improvement of Mankind; yet Philosophy it-self, as a Science and known Profession worthy of that name, cannot with any probability be suppos’d to have risen (as our Author shews) till other[137]Arts had been rais’d, and, in a certain proportion, advanc’d before it. As this was of the greatest Dignity and Weight, so it came last into Form. It was long clearing it-self from the affected Dress of Sophists, or Enthusiastick Air of Poets; and appear’d late in its genuine, simple, and just Beauty.

The Reader perhaps may justly excuse our Author for having * in this place so over-loaded his Margin with those weighty Authoritys and antient Citations, when he knows that there are many grave Professors in Humanity and Letters among the Moderns, who are puzzled in this Search, and write both repugnantly to one another, and to the plain and natural Evidence of the Case. The real Lineage and Successionof Wit, is indeed plainly founded in Nature: as our Author has endeavour’d to make appear both from History and Fact. The GreekNation, as it is Original to us, in respect to these polite Arts and Sciences, so it was in reality original to it-self. For whether the Egyptians, Phenicians, Thracians, or Barbarians of any kind, may have hit fortunately on this or that particular Invention, either in Agriculture, Building, Navigation, or Letters; which-ever may have introduc’d this Rite of Worship, this Title of a Deity, this or that Instrument of Mu[138]sick, this or that Festival, Game, or Dance, (for on this matter there are high Debates among the Learned) ’tis evident, beyond a doubt, that the Arts and Sciences were form’d in Greece it-self. ’Twas there that Musick, Poetry, and the rest came to receive some kind of shape, and be distinguish’d into their several Orders and Degrees. Whatever flourish’d, or was rais’d to any degree of Correctness, or real Perfection in the kind, was by means of Greece alone, and in the hand of that sole polite, most civiliz’d, and accomplish’d Nation.

Nor can this appear strange, when we consider the fortunate Constitution of that People. For tho compos’d of different Nations, distinct in Laws and Governments, divided by Seas and Continents, dispers’d in distant Islands; yet being originally of the same Extract, united by one single Language, and animated by that social, publick and free Spirit, which notwithstanding the Animosity of their several warring States, induc’d them to erect such heroick Congresses and Powers as those which constituted the AmphictonianCouncils, the Olympick, Isthmian, and other Games; they cou’d not but naturally polish and refine each other. ’Twas thus they brought their beautiful and comprehensive Language to a just Standard,[139] leaving only such Variety in the Dialects as render’d their Poetry, in particular, so much the more agreeable. The Standard was in the same proportion carry’d into other Arts. The Secretion was made. The several Species found, and set apart. The Performers and Masters in every kind, honour’d and admir’d. And, last of all, even Criticks themselves acknowledg’d and receiv’d as Masters over all the rest. From Musick, Poetry, Rhetorick, down to the simple Prose of History, thro’ all the plastick Arts of Sculpture, Statuary, Painting, Architecture, and the rest; every thing Muse-like, graceful and exquisite, was rewarded with the highest Honours, and carry’d on with the utmost Ardor and Emulation. Thus Greece, tho she exported Arts to other Nations, had properly for her own share no Import of the kind. The utmost which cou’d be nam’d, wou’d amount to no more than raw Materials, of a rude and barbarous form. And thus the Nation was evidently Original in Art; and with them every noble Study and Science was (as the great Master, so often cited by our Author, says of certain kinds of Poetry) *self-[140]form’d, wrought out of Nature, and drawn from the necessary Operation and Course of things, working, as it were, of their own accord, and proper inclination. Now according to this natural Growth of Arts, peculiar to Greece, it wou’d necessarily happen; That at the beginning, when the Force of Language came to be first prov’d; when the admiring World made their first Judgment, and essay’d their Taste in the Elegancys of this sort; the Lofty, the Sublime, the Astonishing and Amazing wou’d be the most in fashion, and prefer’d. Metaphorical Speech, Multiplicity of Figures and high-sounding Words wou’d naturally prevail. Tho in the Common-wealth it-self, and in the Affairs of Government, Men were us’d originally to plain and direct Speech; yet when Speaking became an Art, and was taught by Sophists, and other pretended Masters, the high-poetick, and the figurative Way began to prevail, even at the Bar, and in the Publick Assemblys: Insomuch that the Grand-Master, in the * above-cited part of his Rhetoricks, where he extols the Tragick Poet Euripides, upbraids the Rhetoricians of his own Age, who retain’d that very bombastick Style, which even Poets, and those too of the tragick kind, had already thrown off, or at least considerably[141] mitigated. But the Taste of Greece was now polishing. A better Judgment was soon form’d, when a Demosthenes was heard, and had found success. The People themselves (as our Author has shewn) came now to reform their Comedy, and familiar Manner, after Tragedy, and the higher Style, had been brought to its perfection under the last hand of an Euripides. And now in all the principal Works of Ingenuity and Art,Simplicity and Nature began chiefly to be sought: And this was the Taste which lasted thro’ so many Ages, till the Ruin of all things, under a Universal Monarchy.

If the Reader shou’d peradventure be led by his Curiosity to seek some kind of Comparison between this antient Growth of Taste, and that which we have experienc’d in modern days, and within our own Nation; he may look back to the Speeches of our Ancestors in Parliament. He will find ’em generally speaking, to have been very short and plain, but coarse, and what we properly call home-spun; till Learning came in vogue, and Science was known amongst us. When our Princes and Senators became Scholars, they spoke scholastically. And the pedantick Style was prevalent, from the first Dawn of Letters, about the Age of the Reformation, till[142] long afterwards. Witness the best written Discourses, the admir’d Speeches, Orations, or Sermons, thro’ several Reigns, down to these latter, which we compute within the present Age. ’Twill undoubtedly be found, That till very late days, the Fashion of speaking, and the Turn of Wit, was after the figurative and florid Manner. Nothing was so acceptable as the high-sounding Phrase, the far-fetch’d Comparison, the capricious Point, and Play of Words; and nothing so despicable as what was merely of the plain or natural kind. So that it must either be confess’d, that in respect of the preceding Age, we are fallen very low in Taste; or that, if we are in reality improv’d, the natural and simple Manner which conceals and coversArt, is the most truly artful, and of the genteelest, truest, and best-study’d Taste: as has * above been treated more at large.

NOW, THEREFORE, as to our Author’s Philosophy it-self, as it lies conceal’d in †this Treatise, but more profess’d and formal in his ‡next; we shall proceed gradually according to his own Method: since it becomes not one who[143] has undertaken the part of his airy Assistant and humorous Paraphrast, to enter suddenly, without good preparation, into his dry Reasonings and moral Researches about the social Passions and natural Affections, of which he is such a punctilious Examiner.

Of all human Affections, the noblest and most becoming human Nature, is that of Loveto one’s Country. This, perhaps, will easily be allow’d by all Men, who have really a Country, and are of the number of those who may be call’d **a People, as enjoying the Happiness of a real Constitution and Polity, by which they are free and independent. There are few such Country-men or Free-men so degenerate, as directly to discountenance or condemn this Passion of Love to their Community and national Brotherhood. The indirect Manner of opposing this Principle, is the most usual. We hear it commonly, as a Complaint, “That there is little of this Love extant in the World.” From whence ’tis hastily concluded, “That there is little or nothing of friendly or social[144] Affection inherent in our Nature, or proper to our Species.” ’Tis however apparent, That there is scarce a Creature of human Kind, who is not possess’d at least with some inferior degree or meaner sort of this natural Affection to a Country.

’Tis a wretched Aspect of Humanity which we figure to our-selves, when we wou’d endeavour to resolve the very Essence and Foundation of this generous Passion into a Relation to mere Clay and Dust, exclusively of any thing sensible, intelligent, or moral. ’Tis, I must own, on certain †Relations, or respective Proportions, that all natural Affection does in some measure depend. And in this View it cannot, I confess, be deny’d, that we have each of us a certain Relation to the mere Earth it-self, the very Mould or Surface of that Planet, in which, with other Animals of various sorts, We (poor Reptiles!) were also bred and nourish’d. But had it happen’d to one of us British-Men to have been born at Sea, cou’d we not therefore properly be call’d British-Men? Cou’d we be allow’d Country-Men of no sort, as having no dis[145]tinct relation to any certain Soil or Region; no original Neighbourhood but with the watry Inhabitants and Sea-Monsters? Surely, if we were born of lawful Parents, lawfully employ’d, and under the Protection of Law; wherever they might be then detain’d, to whatever Colonys sent, or whither-soever driven by any Accident, or in Expeditions or Adventures in the Publick Service, or that of Mankind, we shou’d still find we had a Home, and Country, ready to lay claim to us. We shou’d be oblig’d still to consider our-selves as Fellow-Citizens, and might be allow’d to love our Country or Nation as honestly and heartily as the most inland Inhabitant or Native of the Soil. Our political and social Capacity wou’d undoubtedly come in view, and be acknowledg’d full as natural and essential in our Species, as the parental and filial kind, which gives rise to what we peculiarly call natural Affection. Or supposing that both our Birth and Parents had been unknown, and that in this respect we were in a manner younger Brothers in Society to the rest of Mankind; yet from our Nurture and Education we shou’d surely espouse some Country or other; and joyfully embracing the Protection of a Magistracy, shou’d of necessity and by force of Nature join our-selves to the general Society of Mankind, and those in particular, with whom we had enter’d into a[146] nearer Communication of Benefits, and closer Sympathy of Affections. It may therefore be esteem’d no better than a mean Subterfuge of narrow Minds, to assign this natural Passion for Society and a Country, to such a Relation as that of a mere Fungus or common Excrescence, to its Parent-Mould, or nursing Dung-hill.

The Relation of Country-man, if it be allow’d any thing at all, must imply something moral and social. The Notion it-self pre-supposes a naturally civil and political State of Mankind, and has reference to that particular part of Society, to which we owe our chief Advantages as Men, and rational Creatures, such as are *naturally and necessarily united for each other’s Happiness and Support, and for the highest of all Happiness and Enjoyments; “The Intercourse of Minds, the free Use of our Reason, and the Exercise of mutual Love and Friendship.”

An ingenious Physician among the Moderns, having in view the natural Dependency of the vegetable and animal Kinds on their common Mother-Earth, and observing that both the one and the other draw from her their continual Sustenance, (some rooted and fix’d down to their first[147] abodes, others unconfin’d, and wandring from place to place to suck their Nourishment): He accordingly, as I remember, styles this latter animal-Race, her releas’d Sons; Filios Terrae emancipatos. Now if this be our only way of reckoning for Mankind, we may call our-selves indeed, The Sons ofEarth,at large; but not of any particularSoil, or District. The Division of Climates and Regions is fantastick and artificial: much more the Limits of particular Countrys, Citys or Provinces. Our Natale Solum, or Mother-Earth, must by this account be the realGlobe it-self which bears us, and in respect of which we must allow the common Animals, and even the Plants of all degrees, to claim an equal Brotherhood with us, under this common Parent.

According to this Calculation we must of necessity carry our Relation as far as to the whole material World or Universe; where alone it can prove compleat. But for the particular District or Tract of Earth, which in a vulgar sense we call ourCountry, however bounded or geographically divided, we can never, at this rate, frame any accountable Relation to it, nor consequently assign any natural or proper Affection towards it.

If unhappily a Man had been born either at an Inn, or in some dirty Village; he[148] wou’d hardly, I think, circumscribe himself so narrowly as to accept a Denomination or Character from those nearest Appendices, or local Circumstances of his Nativity. So far shou’d one be from making the Hamlet or Parish to be characteristical in the Case, that hardly wou’d the Shire it-self, or County, however rich or flourishing, be taken into the honorary Term or Appellation of one’sCountry. “What, then, shall we presume to call ourCountry? Is it England it-self?” “But what of Scotland? Is it therefore Britain?” “But what of the other Islands, the Northern Orcades, and the Southern Jersey and Guernsey? What of the Plantations, and poor Ireland?”—Behold, here, a very dubious Circumscription!

But what, after all, if there be a Conquest or Captivity in the case? a Migration? a national Secession, or Abandonment of our native Seats for some other Soil or Climate? This has happen’d, we know, to our Forefathers. And as great and powerful a People as we have been of late, and have ever shewn our-selves under the influence of free Councils, and a tolerable Ministry; shou’d we relapse again into slavish Principles, or be administer’d long under such Heads as having[149] no Thought of Liberty for themselves, can have much less for Europe or their Neighbours; we may at last feel a War at home, become the Seat of it, and in the end a Conquest. We might then gladly embrace the hard Condition of our Predecessors, and exchange our beloved native Soil for that of some remote and uninhabited part of the World. Now shou’d this possibly be our Fate; shou’d some considerable Colony or Body be form’d afterwards out of our Remains, or meet, as it were by Miracle, in some distant Climate; wou’d there be, for the future, no English-man remaining? No common Bond of Alliance and Friendship, by which we cou’d still call Country-men, as before? How came we, I pray, by our antient name of English-men? Did it not travel with us over Land and Sea? Did we not, indeed, bring it with us heretofore from as far as the remoter Parts of Germany to this Island?

I MUST confess, I have been apt sometimes to be very angry with our Language, for having deny’d us the use of the word Patria, and afforded us no other name to express our native Community, than that of Country; which already bore * two different Significations, abstracted[150] from Mankind or Society. Reigning words are many times of such force, as to influence us considerably in our Apprehension of things. Whether it be from any such Cause as this, I know not: but certain it is, that in the Idea of a CivilState or Nation, we English-men are apt to mix somewhat more than ordinary gross and earthy. No People who ow’d so much to a Constitution, and so little to a Soil or Climate, were ever known so indifferent towards one, and so passionately fond of the other. One wou’d imagine from the common Discourse of our Country-men, that the finest Lands near the Euphrates, the Babylonian or PersianParadises, the rich Plains of Egypt, the GrecianTempe, the RomanCampania, Lombardy, Provence, the SpanishAndalusia, or the most delicious Tracts in the Eastern or WesternIndies, were contemptible Countrys in respect of Old England.

Now by the good leave of these worthy Patriots of the Soil, I must take the liberty to say, I think Old England to have been in every respect a very indifferent Country: and that LateEngland, of an Age or two old, even since Queen Bess’s days, is indeed very much mended for the better. We were, in the beginning of her Grandfather’s Reign, un[151]der a sort of Polish Nobility; and had no other Libertys, than what were in common to us with the then fashionable Monarchys and Gothick Lordships of Europe. For Religion, indeed, we were highly fam’d, above all Nations; by being the most subject to our Ecclesiasticks at home, and the best Tributarys and Servants to the Holy See abroad.

I must go further yet, and own, that I think LateEngland, since the Revolution, to be better still than OldEngland, by many degrees; and that, in the main, we make somewhat a better Figure in Europe, than we did a few Reigns before. But however our People may of late have flourish’d, our Name, or Credit have risen; our Trade, and Navigation, our Manufactures, or our Husbandry been improv’d; ’tis certain that our Region, Climate, and Soil, is, in its own nature, still one and the same. And to whatever Politeness we may suppose our-selves already arriv’d; we must confess, that we are the latest barbarous, the last civiliz’d or polish’d People of Europe. We must allow that our first Conquest by the Romans brought us out of a State hardly equal to the Indian Tribes; and that our last Conquest by the Normans brought us only into the capacity of receiving Arts and civil Accomplishments[152] from abroad. They came to us by degrees, from remote distances, at second or third hand; from other Courts, States, Academys, and foreign Nurserys of Wit and Manners.

Notwithstanding this, we have as over-weaning an Opinion of our-selves, as if we had a claim to be Original and Earth-born. As oft as we have chang’d Masters, and mix’d Races with our several successive Conquerors, we still pretend to be as legitimate and genuine Possessors of our Soil, as the antient Athenians accounted themselves to have been of theirs. ’Tis remarkable however in that truly antient, wise, and witty People, That as fine Territorys and noble Countrys as they possess’d, as indisputable Masters and Superiors as they were in all Science, Wit, Politeness, and Manners; they were yet so far from a conceited, selfish, and ridiculous Contempt of others, that they were even, in a contrary Extreme, “Admirers of whatever was in the least degree ingenious or curious in foreign Nations.” Their Great Men were constant Travellers. Their Legislators and Philosophers made their Voyages into Egypt, pass’d into Chaldea, and Persia; and fail’d not to visit most of the dispers’d Grecian Governments and Colonys thro’ the Islands of the AEgean, in Italy, and on the[153] Coasts of Asia and Africa. ’Twas mention’d as a Prodigy, in the case of a great Philosopher, tho known to have been always poor; “That he shou’d never have travel’d, nor had ever gone out of Athens for his Improvement.” How modest a Reflection in those who were themselvesAthenians!

For our part, we neither care that *Foreigners shou’d travel to us, nor any of ours shou’d travel into foreign Countrys. Our best Policy and Breeding is, it[154] seems, “To look abroad as little as possible; contract our Views within the narrowest Compass; and despise all Knowledg, Learning, or Manners, which are not of a Home Growth.” For hardly will the Antients themselves be regarded by those, who have so resolute a Contempt of what the politest Moderns of any Nation, besides their own, may have advanc’d in the way of Literature, Politeness, or Philosophy.

THIS Disposition of our Country-men, from whatever Causes it may possibly be deriv’d, is, I fear, a very prepossessing Circumstance against our Author; whose Design is to advance something new, or at least something different from what is commonly current in Philosophy and Morals. To support this Design of his, he seems intent chiefly on this single Point; “To discover, how we may, to best advantage, form within our-selves what in the polite World is call’d a Relish, or GoodTaste.”[155]

He begins, it’s true, as near home as possible, and sends us to the narrowest of all Conversations, that of Soliloquy or Self-discourse. But this Correspondence, according to his Computation, is wholly impracticable, without a previous Commerce with the World: And the larger this Commerce is, the more practicable and improving the other, he thinks, is likely to prove. The Sources of this improving Art of Self-correspondence he derives from the highest Politeness and Elegance of antient Dialogue, and Debate, in matters of Wit, Knowledg, and Ingenuity. And nothing, according to our Author, can so well revive this self-corresponding Practice, as the same Search and Study of the highest Politeness in modern Conversation. For this, we must necessarily be at the pains of going further abroad than the Province we call Home. And, by this Account, it appears that our Author has little hopes of being either relish’d or comprehended by any other of his Country-men, than those who delight in the open and free Commerce of the World, and are rejoic’d to gather Views, and receive Light from every Quarter; in order to judg the best of what is perfect, and according to a just Standard, and true Taste in every kind.[156]

It may be proper for us to remark in favour of our Author, that the sort of Ridicule or Raillery, which is apt to fall upon Philosophers, is of the same kind with that which falls commonly on the Virtuosi, or refin’d Wits of the Age. In this latter general Denomination we include the real fine Gentlemen, the Lovers of Art and Ingenuity; such as have seen the World, and inform’d themselves of the Manners and Customs of the several Nations of Europe, search’d into their Antiquitys, and Records; consider’d their Police, Laws, and Constitutions; observ’d the Situation, Strength, and Ornaments of their Citys, their principal Arts, Studys, and Amusements; their Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, Musick, and their Taste in Poetry, Learning, Language, and Conversation.

Hitherto there can lie no Ridicule, nor the least Scope for Satirick Wit or Raillery. But when we push this Virtuoso-Character a little further, and lead our polish’d Gentleman into more nice Researches; when from the view of Mankind and their Affairs, our speculative Genius, and minute Examiner of Nature’s Works, proceeds with equal or perhaps superior Zeal in the Contemplation of the Insect-Life, the Conveniencys, Ha[157]bitations and OEconomy of a Race of Shell-Fish; when he has erected a Cabinet in due form, and made it the real Pattern of his Mind, replete with the same Trash and Trumpery of correspondent empty Notions, and chimerical Conceits; he then indeed becomes the Subject of sufficient Raillery, and is made the Jest of common Conversations.

A worse thing than this happens commonly to these inferiorVirtuosi. In seeking so earnestly for Raritys, they fall in love with Rarityfor Rareness-sake. Now the greatest Raritys in the World are Monsters. So that the Study and Relish of these Gentlemen, thus assiduously imploy’d, becomes at last in reality monstrous: And their whole Delight is found to consist in selecting and contemplating whatever is most monstrous, disagreeing, out of the way, and to the least purpose of any thing in Nature.

In Philosophy, Matters answer exactly to this Virtuoso-Scheme. Let us suppose a Man, who having this Resolution merely, how to employ his Understanding to the best purpose, considers “Who or What he is; Whence he arose, or had his Being; to what End he was design’d; and to what Course of Action he is by his natural Frame and Constitution de[158]stin’d:” shou’d he descend on this account into himself, and examine his inward Powers and Facultys; or shou’d he ascend beyond his own immediate Species, City, or Community, to discover and recognize his higher Polity, or Community, (that common and universal-one, of which he is born a Member); nothing, surely, of this kind, cou’d reasonably draw upon him the least Contempt or Mockery. On the contrary, the finest Gentleman must after all be consider’d but as an Idiot, who talking much of the knowledg of the World and Mankind, has never so much as thought of the Study or Knowledg of himself, or of the Nature and Government of that real Publick and World, from whence he holds his Being.

* What are we and for what kind of life are we born?

“Where are we? Under what Roof? Or on board what Vessel? Whither bound? On what Business? Under whose Pilotship, Government, or Protection?” are Questions which every sensible Man wou’d naturally ask, if he were on a sudden transported into a new Scene of Life. ’Tis admirable, indeed, to consider, That a Man shou’d have been long come into a[159] World, carry’d his Reason and Sense about with him, and yet have never seriously ask’d himself this single Question, “Wheream I? orWhat?” but, on the contrary, shou’d proceed regularly to every other Study and Inquiry, postponing this alone, as the least considerable; or leaving the Examination of it to others, commission’d, as he supposes, to understand and think for him, upon this Head. To be bubbled, or put upon by any sham-Advices in this Affair, is, it seems, of no consequence! We take care to examine accurately, by our own Judgment, the Affairs of other People, and the Concerns of the World which least belong to us: But what relates more immediately to our-selves, and is our chief Self-Interest, we charitably leave to others to examine for us, and readily take up with the first Comers; on whose Honesty and good Faith ’tis presum’d we may safely rely.

Here, methinks, the Ridicule turns more against the Philosophy-Haters than the Virtuosi or Philosophers. Whilst Philosophy is taken (as in its prime Sense it ought) for Mastership inLife and Manners, ’tis like to make no ill Figure in the World, whatever Impertinencys may reign, or however extravagant the Times may prove. But let us view Philoso[160]phy, like mere Virtuoso-ship, in its usual Career, and we shall find the Ridicule rising full as strongly against the Professors of the higher as the lower kind. Cockleshell abounds with each. Many things exterior, and without our-selves, of no relation to our real Interests or to those of Society and Mankind, are diligently investigated: Nature’s remotest Operations, deepest Mysterys, and most difficult Phaenomena discuss’d, and whimsically explain’d; Hypotheses and fantastick Systems erected; a Universe anatomiz’d; and by some * notable Scheme so solv’d and reduc’d, as to appear an easy Knack or Secret to those who have the Clew. Creation it-self can, upon occasion, be exhibited; Transmutations, Projections, and other PhilosophicalArcana, such as in the corporeal World can accomplish all things; whilst in the intellectual, a set Frame of metaphysical Phrases and Distinctions can serve to solve whatever Difficultys may be propounded either in Logicks, Ethicks, or any real Science, of whatever kind.

It appears from hence, that the Defects of Philosophy, and those of Virtuoso-ship are of the same nature. Nothing can be more dangerous than a wrong Choice, or Misapplication in these Affairs.[161] But as ridiculous as these Studys are render’d by their sensless Managers; it appears, however, that each of ’em are, in their nature, essential to the Character of a Fine Gentleman and Man of Sense.

To philosophize, in a just Signification, is but to carry Good-breeding a step higher. For the Accomplishment of Breeding is, To learn whatever is decent in Company, or beautiful in Arts; and the Sum of Philosophy is, To learn what is just in Society, and beautiful in Nature, and the Order of the World.

’Tis not Wit merely, but a Temper which must form the Well-bred Man. In the same manner, ’tis not a Head merely, but a Heart and Resolution which must compleat the realPhilosopher. Both Characters aim at what is excellent, aspire to a just Taste, and carry in view the Model of what is beautiful and becoming. Accordingly, the respective Conduct and distinct Manners of each Party are regulated; The one according to the perfectest Ease, and good Entertainment of Company;the other according to the strictest Interest of Mankind and Society:The one according to a Man’s Rank and Quality in his private Nation; the other according to his Rank and Dignity in Nature.[162]

Whether each of these Offices, of social Parts, are in themselves as convenient as becoming, is the great Question which must some-way be decided. The Well-bred Man has already decided this, in his own Case, and declar’d on the side of what is Handsom: For whatever he practises in this kind,* he accounts no more than what he owes purely to himself; without regard to any further Advantage. The Pretender toPhilosophy, who either knows not how to determine this Affair, or if he has determin’d, knows not how to pursue his Point, with Constancy, and Firmness, remains in respect of Philosophy, what a Clown or Coxcomb is in respect of Breeding and Behaviour. Thus, according to our Author, the Taste of Beauty, and the Relish of what is decent, just, and amiable, perfects the Character of the Gentleman, and the Philosopher. And the Study of such a Taste or Relish will, as we suppose, be ever the great Employment and Concern of him, who covets as well to be wise and good, as agreeable and polite.

Chap. 2.CHAPTER II

Explanation of aTastecontinu’d.—Ridiculers of it.—Their Wit, and Sincerity.—Application of the Taste to Affairs of Government and Politicks.—ImaginaryCharactersin the State.—Young Nobility, and Gentry.—Pursuit ofBeauty.—Preparation for Philosophy.

BY this time, surely, I must have prov’d my-self sufficiently engag’d in the Project and Design of our Self-discoursingAuthor, whose Defence I have undertaken. His Pretension, as plainly appears in this third Treatise, is to † recommend Morals on the same foot, with what in a lower sense is call’d Manners; and to advance Philosophy (as harsh a Subject as it may appear) on the very Foundation of what is call’d agreeable and polite. And ’tis in this Method and Management that, as his Interpreter, or Paraphrast, I have propos’d to imi[164]tate and accompany him, as far as my MiscellaneousCharacter will permit.

Our joint Endeavour, therefore, must appear this: To shew, * “That nothing which is found charming or delightful in the polite World, nothing which is adopted as Pleasure, or Entertainment, of whatever kind, can any way be accounted for, supported, or establish’d, without the Pre-establishment or Supposition of a certainTaste.” Now a Taste or Judgment, ’tis suppos’d, can hardly come ready form’d with us into the World. Whatever Principles or Materials of this kind we may possibly bring with us; whatever good Facultys, Senses, or anticipating Sensations, and Imaginations, may be of Nature’s Growth, and arise properly, of themselves, without our Art, Promotion, or Assistance; the general Idea which is form’d of all this Management, and the clear Notion we attain of what is preferable and principal in all these Subjects of Choice and Estimation, will not, as I imagine, by any Person, be taken for in-nate. Use, Practice and Culture must precede the Understanding and Wit of such an advanc’d Size and Growth as this. A legitimate and just Taste can neither be begotten, made, conceiv’d,[165] or produc’d, without the antecedent Labour and Pains of Criticism.

For this reason we presume not only to defend the Cause of Criticks; but to declare open War against those indolent supine Authors, Performers, Readers, Auditors, Actors, or Spectators; who making their Humour alone the Rule of what is beautiful and agreeable, and having no account to give of such their Humour or odd Fancy, reject the criticizing or examining Art, by which alone they are able to discover the trueBeauty and Worth of every Object.

According to that affected Ridicule which these insipid Remarkers pretend to throw upon just Criticks, the Enjoyment of all real Arts or natural Beautys wou’d be intirely lost: Even in Behaviour and Manners, we shou’d at this rate become in time as barbarous, as in our Pleasures and Diversions. I wou’d presume it, however, of these Critick-Haters, that they are not yet so unciviliz’d, or void of all social Sense, as to maintain, “That the most barbarous Life, or brutish Pleasure, is as desirable as the most polish’d or refin’d.”

For my own part, when I have sometimes heard Men of reputed Ability join in[166] with that effeminate plantive Tone of Invective against Criticks, I have really thought they had it in their Fancy, to keep down the growing Genius’s of the Youth, their Rivals, by turning them aside from that Examination and Search, on which all good Performance as well as good Judgment depends. I have seen many a time a well-bred Man, who had him-self a real goodTaste, give way, with a malicious Complaisance, to the Humour of a Company, where, in favour chiefly of the tender Sex, this soft languishing Contempt of Criticks, and their Labours, has been the Subject set a-foot. “Wretched Creatures! (says one) impertinent Things, these Criticks, as ye call ’em!—As if one cou’dn’t know what was agreeable or pretty, without their help.—’Tis fine indeed, that one shou’dn’t be allow’d to fansy for one’s-self.—Now shou’d a thousand Criticks tell me that Mr. A——’s new Play wan’t the wittiest in the World, I wou’dn’t mind ’em one bit.”

This our real Man of Wit hears patiently; and adds, perhaps of his own, “That he thinks it, truly, somewhat hard, in what relates to People’s Diversion and Entertainment, that they shou’d be oblig’d to chuse what pleas’d others, and not themselves.” Soon after this[167] he goes himself to the Play, finds one of his effeminate Companions commending or admiring at a wrong place. He turns to the next Person who sits by him, and asks privately, “What he thinks of his Companion’s Relish.”

Such is the Malice of the World! They who by Pains and Industry have acquir’d a realTaste in Arts, rejoice in their Advantage over others, who have either none at all, or such as renders ’em ridiculous. At an Auction of Books, or Pictures, you shall hear these Gentlemen persuading every one “To bid for what he fansys.” But, at the same time, they wou’d be soundly mortify’d themselves, if by such as they esteem’d good Judges, they shou’d be found to have purchas’d by a wrong Fancy, or illTaste. The same Gentleman who commends his Neighbour for ordering his Garden or Apartment, as hisHumour leads him, takes care his own shou’d be so order’d as the best Judgments wou’d advise. Being once a Judg himself, or but tolerably knowing in these Affairs, his Aim is not “To change the Being of Things, and bring Truth and Nature to his Humour: but, leaving Nature and Truth just as he found ’em, to accommodate his Humour and Fancy to theirStandard.” Wou’d he do this[168] in a yet higher Case, he might in reality become as wise and great a Man, as he is already a refin’d and polish’dGentleman. By one of these Tastes he understands how to lay out his Garden, model his House, fansy his Equipage, appoint his Table: By the other he learns of what Value these Amusements are in Life, and of what Importance to a Man’s Freedom, Happiness, and Self-enjoyment. For if he wou’d try effectually to acquire the real Science or Taste of Life; he wou’d certainly discover, “That a right Mind, and generous Affection, had more Beauty and Charm, than all other Symmetrys in the World besides”: And, “That a Grain of Honesty and native Worth, was of more value than all the adventitious Ornaments, Estates, or Preferments; for the sake of which some of the better sort so oft turn Knaves; forsaking their Principles, and quitting their Honour and Freedom, for a mean, timorous, shifting State of gaudy Servitude.”

A LITTLE better Taste (were it a very little) in the Affair of Life it-self, wou’d, if I mistake not, mend the Manners, and secure the Happiness of some of our noble Countrymen, who come with high Advantage and a worthy Cha[169]racter into the Publick. But ere they have long engag’d in it, their Worth unhappily becomes venal. Equipages, Titles, Precedencys, Staffs, Ribbons, and other such glittering Ware, are taken in exchange for inwardMerit, Honour, and a Character.

This they may account perhaps a shreud Bargain. But there will be found very untoward Abatements in it, when the matter comes to be experienc’d. They may have descended in reality from ever so glorious Ancestors, Patriots, and Sufferers for their Country’s Liberty and Welfare: They may have made their Entrance into the World upon this bottom of anticipated Fame and Honour: They may have been advanc’d on this account to Dignitys, which they were thought to have deserv’d. But when induc’d to change their honest Measures, and sacrifice their Cause and Friends to an imaginary private Interest; they will soon find, by Experience, that they have lost the Relish and Taste of Life; and for insipid wretched Honours, of a deceitful kind, have unhappily exchang’d an amiable and sweet Honour, of a sincere and lasting Relish, and good Savour. They may, after this, act Farces, as they think fit; and hear Qualitys and Virtues assign’d to ’em, under the Titles of Graces, Excellencys, Ho[170]nours, and the rest of this mock-Praise and mimical Appellation. They may even with serious Looks be told of Honour and Worth, theirPrinciple, and theirCountry: But they know better within themselves; and have occasion to find, That, after all, the World too knows better; and that their few Friends and Admirers have either a very shallow Wit, or a very profound Hypocrisy.

’Tis not in one Party alone that these Purchases and Sales of Honour are carry’d on. I can represent to my-self a noted Patriot, and reputed Pillar of the religious Part of our Constitution, who having by many and long Services, and a steddy Conduct, gain’d the Reputation of thorow Zeal with his own Party, and of Sincerity and Honour with his very Enemys, on a sudden (the time being come that the Fulness of his Reward was set before him) submits complacently to the propos’d Bargain, and sells himself for what he is worth, in a vile detestable Old-Age, to which he has reserv’d the Infamy of betraying both his Friends and Country.

I can imagine, on the other side, one of a contrary Party; a noted Friend to Liberty in Church and State; an Abhorrer of the slavish Dependency on Courts, and of the narrow Principles of Bigots:[171] Such a one, after many publick Services of note, I can see wrought upon, by degrees, to seek Court-Preferment; and this too under a Patriot-Character. But having perhaps try’d this way with less success, he is oblig’d to change his Character, and become a royal Flatterer, a Courtier against his Nature; submitting himself, and suing, in so much the meaner degree, as his inherent Principles are well known at Court, and to his new-adopted Party, to whom he feigns himself a Proselyte.

The greater the Genius or Character is of such a Person, the greater is his Slavery, and heavier his Load. Better had it been that he had never discover’d such a Zeal for publick Good, or signaliz’d him-self in that Party; which can with least grace make Sacrifices of national Interests to a Crown, or to the private Will, Appetite, or Pleasure of a Prince. For supposing such a Genius as this had been to act his Part of Courtship in some foreign and absolute Court; how much less infamous wou’d his Part have prov’d? How much less slavish, admist a People who were All Slaves? Had he peradventure been one of that forlorn begging Troop of Gentry extant in Denmark, or Sweden, since the time that those Nations lost their Libertys; had he liv’d out of a free Nation, and happily-balanc’d Constitution; had[172] he been either conscious of no Talent in the Affairs of Government, or of no Opportunity to exert any such, to the advantage of Mankind: Where had been the mighty shame, if perhaps he had employ’d some of his Abilitys in flattering like others, and paying the necessary Homage requir’d for Safety’s sake, and Self-preservation, in absolute and despotick Governments? The Taste, perhaps, in strictness, might still be wrong, even in this hard Circumstance: But how inexcusable in a quite contrary one! For let us suppose our Courtier not only an Englishman, but of the Rank and Stem of those old English Patriots, who were wont to curb the Licentiousness of our Court, arraign its Flatterers, and purge away those Poisons from the Ear of Princes; let us suppose him of a competent Fortune and moderate Appetites, without any apparent Luxury or Lavishment in his Manners: What shall we, after this, bring in Excuse, or as an Apology, for such a Choice as his? How shall we explain this preposterous Relish, this odd Preference of Subtlety and Indirectness, to true Wisdom, open Honesty, and Uprightness?

’Tis easier, I confess, to give account of this Corruption ofTaste in some noble Youth of a more sumptuous gay Fancy; supposing him born truly Great, and[173] of honourable Descent; with a generous freeMind, as well as ample Fortune. Even these Circumstances themselves may be the very Causes perhaps of his being thus ensnar’d. The * Elegance of his Fancy in outward things, may have made him overlook the Worth of inward Character and Proportion: And the Love of Grandure and Magnificence, wrong turn’d, may have possess’d his Imagination over-strongly with such things as Frontispieces, Parterres, Equipages, trim Valets in party-colour’d Clothes; and others in Gentlemens Apparel.—Magnanimous Exhibitions of Honour and Generosity!—“In Town, a Palace and sutable Furniture! In the Country the same; with the addition of such Edifices and Gardens as were unknown to our Ancestors, and are unnatural to such a Climate as Great Britain!”

Mean while the Year runs on; but the Year’s Income answers not its Expence. For “Which of these Articles can be retrench’d? Which way take up, after having thus set out?” A Princely Fancy has begot all this; and a Princely Slavery, and Court-Dependence must maintain it.[174]

The young Gentleman is now led into a Chace, in which he will have slender Capture, tho Toil sufficient. He is him-self taken. Nor will he so easily get out of that Labyrinth, to which he chose to commit his steps, rather than to the more direct and plainer Paths in which he trod before. “Farewel that generous proud Spirit, which was wont to speak only what it approv’d, commend only whom it thought worthy, and act only what it thought right! Favourites must be now observ’d, little Engines of Power attended on, and loathsomly caress’d: an honest Man dreaded, and every free Tongue or Pen abhor’d as dangerous and reproachful.” For till our Gentleman is become wholly prostitute and shameless; till he is brought to laugh at publick Virtue, and the very Notion of common Good; till he has openly renounc’d all Principles of Honour and Honesty, he must in good Policy avoid those to whom he lies so much expos’d, and shun that Commerce and Familiarity which was once his chief Delight.

Such is the Sacrifice made to a wrong Pride, and ignorant Self-esteem; by one whose inward Character must necessarily, after this manner, become as mean and[175] abject, as his outward Behaviour insolent and intolerable.

There are another sort of Suitors to Power, and Traffickers of inwardWorthandLiberty for outward Gain, whom one wou’d be naturally drawn to compassionate. They are themselves of a humane, compassionate, and friendly nature, Well-wishers to their Country and Mankind. They cou’d, perhaps, even embrace Poverty contentedly, rather than submit to any thing diminutive either of their inward Freedom or national Liberty. But what they can bear in their own Persons, they cannot bring themselves to bear in the Persons of such as are to come after them. Here the best and noblest of Affections are borne down by the Excess of the next best, those of Tenderness for Relations and near Friends.

Such Captives as these wou’d disdain, however, to devote themselves to any Prince or Ministry, whose Ends were wholly tyrannical, and irreconcilable with the true Interest of their Nation. In other cases of a less Degeneracy, they may bow down perhaps in the Temple ofRimmon, support the Weight of their supineLords, and prop the Steps and ruining Credit of their corrupt Patrons.[176]

This is Drudgery sufficient for such honest Natures; such as by hard Fate alone cou’d have been made dishonest. But as for Pride or Insolence on the account of their outward Advancement and seeming Elevation; they are so far from any thing resembling it, that one may often observe what is very contrary in these fairer Characters of Men. For tho perhaps they were known somewhat rigid and severe before; you see ’em now grown in reality submissive and obliging. Tho in Conversation formerly dogmatical and over-bearing, on the Points of State and Government; they are now the patientest to hear, the least forward to dictate, and the readiest to embrace any entertaining Subject of Discourse, rather than that of the Publick, and their own personal Advancement.

Nothing is so near Virtue as this Behaviour; and nothing so remote from it, nothing so sure a Token of the most profligate Manners, as the contrary. In a free Government, ’tis so much the Interest of every one in Place, who profits by the Publick, to demean himself with Modesty and Submission; that to appear immediately the more insolent and haughty on such an Advancement, is the mark only of a contemptible Genius, and of a want of[177] true Understanding, even in the narrow Sense of Interest and private Good.

Thus we see, after all, that ’tis not merely what we call Principle, but a Taste, which governs Men. They may think for certain “This is right, or that wrong”: They may believe “This a Crime, or that a Sin; This punishable by Man, or that by God!” Yet if the Savor of things lies cross to Honesty; if the Fancy be florid, and the Appetite high towards the subaltern Beautys and lower Order of worldly Symmetrys and Proportions; the Conduct will infallibly turn this latter way.

Even Conscience, I fear, such as is owing to religious Discipline, will make but a slight Figure, where this Taste is set amiss. Among the Vulgar perhaps it may do wonders. A Devil and a Hell may prevail, where a Jail and Gallows are thought insufficient. But such is the Nature of the liberal, polish’d, and refin’d part of Mankind; so far are they from the mere Simplicity of Babes and Sucklings; that, instead of applying the Notion of a future Reward or Punishment to their immediate Behaviour in Society, they are apt, much rather, thro’ the whole Course of their Lives, to shew evidently that they look on the pious Narrations to be[178] indeed no better than Childrens Tales, or the Amusement of the mere Vulgar:

Something therefore shou’d, methinks, be further thought of, in behalf of our generous Youths, towards the correcting of their Taste, or Relish in the Concerns of Life. For this at last is what will influence. And in this respect the Youth alone are to be regarded. Some hopes there may be still conceiv’d of These. The rest are confirm’d and harden’d in their way. A middle-ag’d Knave (however devout or orthodox) is but a common Wonder: An old-one is no Wonder at all: But a young-one is still (thank Heaven!) somewhat extraordinary. And I can never enough admire what was said once by a worthy Man at the first appearance of one of these young able Prostitutes, “That he even trembled at the sight, to find Nature capable of being turn’d so soon: and That he boded greater Calamity to his Country from this single Example of young Villany, than from[179] the Practices and Arts of all the old Knaves in being.”

Let us therefore proceed in this view, addressing our-selves to the grown Youth of our polite World. Let the Appeal be to these, whose Relish is retrievable, and whose Taste may yet be form’d in Morals; as it seems to be, already, in exterior Manners and Behaviour.

THAT there is really a Standard of this latter kind, will immediately, and on the first view, be acknowledg’d. The Contest is only, “Which is right:—Which the un-affected Carriage, and just Demeanour: And Which the affected and false.” Scarce is there any-one, who pretends not to know and to decide What is well-bred and handsom. There are few so affectedly clownish, as absolutely to disown Good-breeding, and renounce the Notion of a Beauty in outward Manners and Deportment. With such as these, wherever they shou’d be found, I must confess, I cou’d scarce be tempted to bestow the least Pains or Labour, towards convincing ’em of a Beauty in inward Sentiments and Principles.

Whoever has any Impression of what we call Gentility or Politeness, is already[180] so acquainted with the Decorum and Grace of things, that he will readily confess a Pleasure and Enjoyment in the very Survey and Contemplation of this kind. Now if in the way of polite Pleasure, the Study and Love ofBeauty be essential; the Study and Love ofSymmetry and Order, on which Beauty depends, must also be essential, in the same respect.

’Tis impossible we can advance the least in any Relish or Taste of outward Symmetry and Order; without acknowledging that the proportionate and regular State is the truly prosperous and natural in every Subject. The same Features which make Deformity, create Incommodiousness and Disease. And the same Shapes and Proportions which make Beauty, afford Advantage, by adapting to Activity and Use. Even in the imitative or designing Arts, (to which our Author so often refers) the Truth or Beauty of every Figure or Statue is measur’d from the Perfection of Nature, in her just adapting of every Limb and Proportion to the Activity, Strength, Dexterity, Life and Vigor of the particular Species or Animal design’d.

Thus Beauty and *Truth are plainly join’d with the Notion of Utility and[181]Convenience, even in the Apprehension of every ingenious Artist, the †Architect, the Statuary, or the Painter. ’Tis the same in the Physician’s way. Natural Health is the just Proportion, Truth, and regular Course of things, in a Constitution. ’Tis the inward Beauty of theBody. And when the Harmony and just Measures of the rising Pulses, the circulating Humours, and the moving Airs or Spirits are disturb’d or lost, Deformity enters, and with it, Calamity and Ruin.

Shou’d not this, one wou’d imagine, be still the same Case, and hold equally as to theMind? Is there nothing there which tends to Disturbance and Dissolution? Is there no natural Tenour, Tone, or Order of the Passions or Affections? No Beauty, or Deformity in this moral kind?[182] Or allowing that there really is; must it not, of consequence, in the same manner imply Health or Sickliness, Prosperity or Disaster? Will it not be found in this respect, above all, “That what is *beau[183]tiful is harmonious and proportionable; what is harmonious and proportionable, is true; and what is at once both beautiful and true, is, of consequence, agreeable and good?”[184]

Where then is this Beauty or Harmony to be found? How is this Symmetry to be discover’d and apply’d? Is it any other Art than that of Philosophy, or the Study of inward Numbers and[185] Proportions, which can exhibit this in Life? If no other; Who, then, can possibly have a Taste of this kind, without being beholden to Philosophy? Who can admire the outward Beautys, and not recur instantly to the inward, which are the most real and essential, the most naturally affecting, and of the highest Pleasure, as well as Profit and Advantage?[186]

In so short a compass does that Learning and Knowledge lie, on which Manners and Life depend. ’Tis We our-selves create and form our Taste. If we resolve to have it just; ’tis in our power. We may esteem and value, approve and disapprove, as we wou’d wish. For who wou’d not rejoice to be always equal and consonant to himself, and have constantly that Opinion of things which is natural and proportionable? But who dares search Opinion to the bottom, or call in question his early and prepossessingTaste? Who is so just to himself, as to recal his Fancy from the power of Fashion and Education, to that of Reason? Cou’d we, however, be thus courageous; we shou’d soon settle in our-selves such an Opinion of Good as wou’d secure to us an invari[187]able, agreeable, and justTaste in Life and Manners.

THUS HAVE I endeavour’d to tread in my Author’s steps, and prepare the Reader for the serious and downright Philosophy, which even in this * last commented Treatise, our Author keeps still as a Mystery, and dares not formally profess. His Pretence has been to advise Authors, and polish Styles; but his Aim has been to correct Manners, and regulate Lives. He has affected Soliloquy, as pretending only to censure Himself; but he has taken occasion to bring others into his Company, and make bold with Personages and Characters of no inferior Rank. He has given scope enough to Raillery and Humour; and has intrench’d very largely on the Province of us Miscellanarian Writers. But the Reader is † now about to see him in a new aspect, “a formal and profess’d Philosopher, a System-Writer, a Dogmatist, and Expounder.”—Habes consitentem reum.

So to his Philosophy I commit him. Tho, according as my Genius and[188] present Disposition will permit, I intend still to accompany him at a distance, keep him in sight, and convoy him, the best I am able, thro’ the dangerous Seas he is about to pass.[189]

[* ]Viz. In the Letter of Enthusiasm, which makes Treatise I. See VOL. I. pag. 41, 43, 44, 49. at the end.—And 54. concerning the previous Knowledg.—So again, Treatise II. VOL. I. pag. 81, and 116.—And again, Treatise III. VOL. I. pag. 294, 295, 297. where the INQUIRY is propos’d, and the System and Genealogy of the Affections previously treated; with an Apology (pag. 312.) for the examining Practice, and seeming Pedantry of the Method.—And afterwards the Apology for Treatise IV. in Treatise V. VOL. II. pag. 263, 264. Concerning this Series and Dependency of these joint Treatises, see more particularly below, pag. 189, 190, 191, 284, &c.

[* ]Viz. Treatise V. The INQUIRY concerning Virtue, VOL. II.

[† ] VOL. I. pag. 236, 7, 8, 9, &c.

[* ]Viz. VOL. I. pag. 242, &c.

[* ] αὐτοσχεδιαστική [the art of improvisation]. VOL. I. pag. 244. ’Tis in this sense of the natural Production, and Self-Formation of the Arts, in this Free State of antient Greece, that the same great Master uses this Word a little before, in the same Chapter of his Poeticks, (viz. the 4th) speaking in general of the Poets: κατὰ μικρὸν προάγοντες, ἐγέννησαν τὴν ποίησιν, ἐκ τω̑ν αὐτοσχεδιασμάτων. [Advancing step by step they produced poetry out of their improvisations.—Arist. Poet. iv. 6.] And presently after, λέξεως δὲ λενομένης, αὐτὴ ἡ φύσις τὸ οἰκει̑ον μέτρον εὑ̑ρε. [When dialogue was introduced, Nature herself found out the appropriate metre.—Ib. iv. 14.]

[* ] VOL. I. pag. 245. in the Notes.

[* ] Page 21. and VOL. I. pag. 257, 258.

[† ] Viz. Soliloquy, or Advice to an Author: Treatise III. VOL. I.

[‡ ] Viz. INQUIRY, &c. Treatise IV. VOL. II.

[** ] A Multitude held together by Force, tho under one and the same Head, is not properly united: Nor does such a Body make a People. ’Tis the social Ligue, Confederacy, and mutual Consent, founded in some common Good or Interest, which joins the Members of a Community, and makes a People One. Absolute Power annuls the Publick: And where there is no Publick, or Constitution, there is in reality no Mother-Country, or Nation. See VOL. I. pag. 105, 6, 7.

[† ] τὰ καθήκοντα ται̑ς οχέσεσι παραμετρει̑ται. [The circumstances are measured according to their nature.]

[* ] VOL. I. p. 109, &c. and VOL. II. p. 310, &c.

[* ]Rus & Regio. In French Campagne & Païs.

[* ] An ill Token of our being thorowly civiliz’d: since in the Judgment of the Polite and Wise, this inhospitable Disposition was ever reckon’d among the principal Marks of Barbarism. So Strabo, from other preceding Authors, κοινὸν μὲν εἱ̑ναι τοι̑ς βαρβάροις πα̑σιν ἔθος τὴν ξενηλασίαν, L.xvii. p. 802. [The expulsion of foreigners is a common measure with all barbarians.]

The Ζεύς Ξένιος [Zeus, god of strangers] of the Antients was one of the solemn Characters of Divinity: the peculiar Attribute of the supreme DEITY, benign to Mankind, and recommending universal Love, mutual Kindness, and Benignity between the remotest and most unlike of human Race. Thus their Divine Poet in Harmony with their Sacred Oracles, which were known frequently to confirm this Doctrine.

• ξει̑ν’, οὔ μοι θέμις ἔστ’, οὐδ’ εἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,
• ξει̑νον ἀτιμη̑σαι· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες
• ξει̑νοι.—————ΟΔΥΣ. ξ.

• οὐδέ τις ἄμμι βροτω̑ν ἐπιμίσγεται ἄλλος.
• ἀλλ’ ὅδε τις δύστηνος ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδ’ ἱκάνει,
• τὸν νυ̑ν χρὴ κομέειν· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες
• ξει̑νοι.—————ΟΔΥΣ. ζ.

• ἀφνειὸς βιότοιο, φίλος δ’ ἡ̑ν ἀνθρώποισι·
• πάντας γὰρ φιλέεσκεν ὁδῳ̑ ἔπι οἴκια ναίων. ΙΛΙΑΔ. ζ.

See also Odys. lib. iii. ver. 34, &c. and 67, &c. lib. iv. ver. 30, &c. and 60.

Such was antient Heathen CHARITY, and pious Duty towards the Whole of Mankind; both those of different Nations, and different Worships. See VOL. II. pag. 165, 166.

[* ]Quid sumus, & quidnam victuri gignimur?—— Pers. Sat. iii. ver. 67.

[* ] VOL. II. pag. 184, 185.

[* ] VOL. I. pag. 129, 130.

[† ] VOL. I. pag. 336, &c.

[* ] VOL. I. pag. 336, &c.

[* ] VOL. I. pag. 139.

[* ] VOL. I. pag. 142, &c.

[† ]In GRAECIS Operibus, nemo sub mutulo denticulos constituit, &c. Quod ergo supra Cantherios & Templa in Veritate debet esse collocatum, id in Imaginibus, si infrà constitutum fuerit, mendosam habebit operis rationem. Etiamque ANTIQUI non probaverunt, neque instituerunt, &c. Ita quod non potest in Veritate fieri, id non putaverunt in Imaginibus factum, posse certam rationem habere. Omnia enim certâ proprietate, & à veris NATURAE deductis Moribus, traduxerunt in Operum perfectiones: & ea probaverunt quorum explicationes in Disputationibus rationem possunt habere VERITATIS. Itaque ex eis Originibus Symmetrias & Proportiones uniuscujusque generis constitutas reliquerunt. [In Greek buildings no one placed denticules under mutules. . . . What therefore ought in reality to be put above beams and small timbers will, if in imitations it be put below, be faulty in theory: and so the ancients did not approve of this or practise it. . . . Thus they thought that what cannot be done in reality cannot be correct if done in a copy thereof. For they transferred everything to their perfect works with exact accuracy and attention to the true laws of Nature, and approved only those points the explanation of which can, when discussed, show truthfulness. And so from this beginning they left us proportions and canons ready established in every kind.] Vitruvius,lib. iv. cap. 2. whose Commentator Philander may be also read on this place. See above, VOL. I. pag. 208, 336, &c. 340, 350, &c. And below, pag. 259, 260.

[* ] This is the HONESTUM, the PULCHRUM, τὸ καλόν [the Beautiful], on which our Author lays the stress of VIRTUE, and the Merits of this Cause; as well in his other Treatises, as in this of Soliloquy here commented. This Beauty the RomanOrator, in his rhetorical way, and in the Majesty of Style, cou’d express no otherwise than as A Mystery.† “HONESTUM igitur id intelligimus, quod tale est, ut, detractâ omni utilitate, sine ullis praemiis fructibusve, per seipsum possit jure laudari. Quod quale sit, non tam definitione quâ sum usus intelligi potest (quanquam aliquantum potest) quam COMMUNI omnium JUDICIO, & optimi cujusque studiis, atque factis a qui permulta ob eam unam causam faciunt, quia decet, quia rectum, quia honestum est; etsi nullum consecuturum emolumentum vident.” [By right therefore I understand what is such that, apart from expediency, without any reward or profit, it can properly be praised on its own account. What sort of thing, that is, may be understood, not so much from the definition I have given (though to some extent it may be so understood) as from the general agreement of all, and from the enthusiasm and acts of the best men; they do many a thing for this one reason, that it is becoming, is proper, is right, even though they see no gain likely to follow.] Our Author, on the other side, having little of the Orator, and less of the Constraint of Formality belonging to some graver Characters, can be more familiar on this occasion: and accordingly descending, without the least scruple, into whatever Style, or Humour; he refuses to make the least Difficulty or Mystery of this matter. He pretends, on this head, to claim the Assent not only of Orators, Poets, and the higher Virtuosi, but even of the Beaux themselves, and such as go no farther than the Dancing-Master to seek for Grace and Beauty. He pretends, we see, to fetch this natural Idea from as familiar Amusements as Dress, Equipage, the Tiring-Room, or Toy-shop. And thus in his proper manner of SOLILOQUY, or Self-Discourse, we may imagine him running on: beginning perhaps with some particular Scheme or fansy’d Scale of BEAUTY, which, according to his Philosophy, he strives to erect; by distinguishing, sorting, and dividing into Things animate, in-animate, and mixt: as thus.

In the IN-ANIMATE; beginning from those regular Figures and Symmetrys with which Children are delighted; and proceeding gradually to the Proportions of Architecture and the other Arts.—The same in respect of Sounds and MUSICK. From beautiful Stones, Rocks, Minerals; to Vegetables, Woods, aggregate Parts of the World, Seas, Rivers, Mountains, Vales.—The Globe.—Celestial Bodys, and their Order. The higher Architecture of Nature.—NATURE her-self, consider’d as in-animate and passive.

In the ANIMATE; from Animals, and their several Kinds, Tempers, Sagacitys, to Men.—And from single Persons of Men, their private Characters, Understandings, Genius’s, Dispositions, Manners; to Publick Societys, Communitys, or Commonwealths.—From Flocks, Herds, and other natural Assemblages or Groups of living Creatures, to human Intelligencys and Correspondencys, or whatever is higher in the kind. The Correspondence, Union and Harmony of NATURE her-self, consider’d as animate and intelligent.

In the MIXT; as in a single Person, (a Body and a Mind) the Union and Harmony of this kind, which constitutes the real Person: and the Friendship, Love, or whatever other Affection is form’d on such an Object. A Houshold, a City, or Nation, with certain Lands, Buildings, and other Appendices, or local Ornaments, which jointly form that agreeable Idea of Home, Family, Country.—

‘‘And what of this?” (says an airy Spark, no Friend to Meditation or deep Thought) “What means this Catalogue, or Scale, as you are pleas’d to call it?” “Only, Sir, to satisfy my-self, That I am not alone, or single in a certain Fancy I have of a thing call’d BEAUTY; That I have almost the whole World for my Companions; and That each of us Admirers and earnest Pursuers of BEAUTY (such as in a manner we All are) if peradventure we take not a certain Sagacity along with us, we must err widely, range extravagantly, and run ever upon a false Scent. We may, in the Sportsman’s Phrase, have many Hares afoot, but shall stick to no real Game, nor be fortunate in any Capture which may content us.

‘‘See with what Ardour and Vehemence, the young Man, neglecting his proper Race and Fellow-Creatures, and forgetting what is decent, handsom, or becoming in human Affairs, pursues these SPECIES in those common Objects of his Affection, a Horse, a Hound, a Hawk!—What doting on these Beautys!—What Admiration of the Kind it-self! And of the particular Animal, what Care, and in a manner Idolatry and Consecration; when the Beast beloved is (as often happens) even set apart from use, and only kept to gaze on, and feed the enamour’d Fancy with highest Delight!—See! in another Youth, not so forgetful of Human Kind, but remembring it still in a wrong way! a φιλόκαλος [a lover of the beautiful] of another sort, a CHAEREA. Quàm elegans formarum Spectator!—See as to other Beautys, where there is no Possession, no Enjoyment or Reward, but barely seeing and admiring: as in the Virtuoso-Passion, the Love of Painting, and the Designing Arts of every kind, so often observ’d.—How fares it with our princely Genius, our Grandee who assembles all these Beautys, and within the Bounds of his sumptuous Palace incloses all these Graces of a thousand kinds?—What Pains! Study! Science!—Behold the Disposition and Order of these finer sorts of Apartments, Gardens, Villas!—The kind of Harmony to the Eye, from the various Shapes and Colours agreeably mixt, and rang’d in Lines, intercrossing without confusion, and fortunately co-incident.—A Parterre, Cypresses, Groves, Wildernesses.—Statues, here and there, of Virtue, Fortitude, Temperance.—Heroes-Busts, Philosophers-Heads; with sutable Mottos and Inscriptions.—Solemn Representations of things deeply natural.—Caves, Grottos, Rocks.—Urns and Obelisks in retir’d places, and dispos’d at proper distances and points of Sight: with all those Symmetrys which silently express a reigning Order, Peace, Harmony, and Beauty!—But what is there answerable to this, in the MINDS of the Possessors?—What Possession or Propriety is theirs? What Constancy or Security of Enjoyment? What Peace, what Harmony WITHIN.”—

Thus our MONOLOGIST, or self-discoursing Author, in his usual Strain; when incited to the Search of BEAUTY and the DECORUM, by vulgar Admiration, and the universal Acknowledgment of the SPECIES in outward Things, and in the meaner and subordinate Subjects. By this inferior Species, it seems, our strict Inspector disdains to be allur’d: And refusing to be captivated by any thing less than the superior, original, and genuine Kind; he walks at leisure, without Emotion, in deep philosophical Reserve, thro’ all these pompous Scenes; passes unconcernedly by those Court-Pageants, the illustrious and much-envy’d Potentates of the Place; overlooks the Rich, the Great, and even the Fair: feeling no other Astonishment than what is accidentally rais’d in him, by the View of these Impostures, and of this specious Snare. For here he observes those Gentlemen chiefly to be caught and fastest held, who are the highest Ridiculers of such Reflections as his own; and who in the very height of this Ridicule prove themselves the impotent Contemners of a SPECIES, which, whether they will or no, they ardently pursue: Some, in a Face, and certain regular Lines, or Features: Others, in a Palace and Apartments: Others, in an Equipage and Dress.—“O EFFEMINACY! EFFEMINACY! Who wou’d imagine this cou’d be the Vice of such as appear no inconsiderable Men?—But Person is a Subject of Flattery which reaches beyond the Bloom of Youth. The experienc’d Senator and aged General, can, in our days, dispense with a Toilet, and take his outward Form into a very extraordinary Adjustment and Regulation.—All Embellishments are affected, besides the true. And thus, led by Example, whilst we run in search of Elegancy and Neatness; pursuing BEAUTY; and adding, as we imagine, more Lustre, and Value to our own Person; we grow, in our real Character and truer SELF, deform’d and monstrous, servile and abject; stooping to the lowest Terms of Courtship; and sacrificing all internal Proportion, all intrinsick and real BEAUTY and WORTH, for the sake of Things which carry scarce a Shadow of the Kind.” Supra, VOL. II. pag. 394, &c. and VOL. I. pag. 138, &c. and pag. 337.

[† ] Cic. de Fin. Bon. & Mal. lib. ii. sect. 14.

[* ]Viz. Treatise III. (ADVICE to an Author) VOL. I.

[† ]Viz. In Treatise IV. (The INQUIRY, &c.) Vol. II.