Of WIT in Conver­sation.

I.

ALL Witty Compositions may be re­duc'd to the Three following Heads, viz. Poetry, Oratory, or History. For I sup­pose a Man of Wit designs to pass either for a Poet, an Orator, or an Historian.

If he's a Poet, and has a happy Talent in that sort of Poetry he pretends to, I know nothing that sooner gains him the Chara­cter he so much affects, I mean that of Wit, that recommends and sets him off to more Advantage, than this single Qualification. A few Stanzas, an Ode, or a Poem, made and approv'd of by certain Persons, at a happy juncture, and in some certain Cir­cumstances, have seldom fail'd to intitle him to the Name of a VVit, to distinguish him from the common Herd, and to pro­cure him an honourable Place among the VVits in some famous Academies.

Poetry has wonderful Charms, and of all the different Branches of VVit, that of a good Poet is the most agreeable, and most ta­king: For which Reason I readily own it better deserves this Name than any other Quality; and I may venture once more to affirm it after I have told my Reader what I understand by that Term.

If we respect only the Senses, and their Pleasures, the Imagination, and its Charms, the Passions and their Motions; a good Poet, I confess, is really inestimable; be­cause amongst the other Pleasures of the Mind, the Talent of Poetry is the most ex­quisite, especially to Persons of a delicate Fancy.

But if we will guide our selves by our Reason and its Decisions, this Quality be­comes on a sudden contemptible; the pre­tended Charms and Excellencies of a Poets Wit being like those dull heavy Beauties we look on with Indifference.

II.

Before we determine any Thing in this Matter, we must first consider, whether we mean to examine the Thing in it self, or in Relation to our selves, whether we design our Pleasure, or Truth. After which we may take which side we please, either that [Page 81] of Imagination or Reason, the Senses or the Mind, which are Things altogether op [...] ­site. We ought to leave Imagination to the Poets and their Favourers. Let us allow their Fancy to be never so Lively, Vast and Charming to a Wonder, they may pass for VVits indeed; but how can the greatest Part of them pretend to the Character of Men of Judgment, who reason weakly, and whose Knowledge is narrow and scanty? By consequence they are not so worthy as we think them of the Admiration of ra­tional Men, nor of the esteem of the Learned.

I say the greatest part of them, for the Rule is not without Exception. I know some who are so happy as to join the Deli­cacy of Fancy with an excellent Judgment, the Solid with the Agreeable. But I speak in general, the Mind in Poetry wanders and roves, and a solid Judgment can hardly recon­cile it self to the Liberties of Poetry.

There is nothing comparable to the Trouble a warm'd Imagination occasions in a Poets Mind? nothing can equal the Co [...] sion caus'd in it by the delicate Pleasu [...] [...]e feels and makes others sensible of.

When a Poet has for some time strain'd himself to bring forth excellent Noti [...]ns upon his Subject in hand; when he has [Page 82] often put his thoughts upon the Rack, to find a proper Expression or a Rhyme; if he will but reflect on the Impressions which are form'd in his Brain, and the Images they represent, where is then the Liberty of his Mind? and what Use can he make of it? If he meditates, he creeps; if he examines, he falls. He must necessarily abandon himself wholly to his Imagination, and its Flights; he must push it forward, and follow it close. For, the more it is heated, the loftier the Thoughts seem to be, the more it is kept up, the nobler are the Expressions.

We must then subdue our Reason, if Ima­gination must rule; weaken the one, to fortifie the other; for we cannot put them in the same Degree, nor place them in the same Rank.

III.

[...]t being the principal business of a Poet [...]aint well, and make lively Images of [...]t he conceives, he must be as much, if [...]more, imploy'd in the search of Words, [...] their Measure, than the nature of [...]ngs. The stronger the Expression is, [Page 83] the more lively and agreeable is the Im­pression it makes. He must therefore strain himself to humour a strong Imagination ra­ther than consult just and good Reason, and rather aim at lively Representations, than right and solid Judgment.

'Tis the Property of the Mind to in­struct and inlighten, and of the Imagina­tion to touch and delight; as that of the Passions to move. If a Poet does not please, he's insipid; if he does not move, he's cold. He must therefore be touch'd first himself, and mov'd by the very Passion he wou'd excite. Passions are commonly mov'd by Passions, and Motions caus'd by the like Motions. We then ought to con­sider a Poet mov'd, touch'd, and troubl'd as many ways as he has Sentiments to ex­press, and Motions to follow; and by a necessary Consequence, always depriv'd of that Force and Liberty, in which alone the Exactness and Perfection of his Mind con­sists.

Far from preserving his Own, he must deprive others of theirs, to please them and make himself admir'd. It is not allowa­ble in a Poet to be indifferent. He must either Charm, or Disgust, Excel, or Creep; there is no Medium. I believe it proceeds from this, that a Poet who means to gain [Page 84] Applause, ought not to give his Mind lei­sure to know it self, nor his Reason the time to examine. Verses ought to move, and ravish, every time we read or hear them read. If they do not, but leave our Minds free, Reason will soon enter, which for the most part not finding any thing in them worthy its Consideration, despises the Terms, and laughs at their fine Order and Gingling. The Imagination finds not its satisfaction in them, Reason much less. Thus every Thing languishes, and the Poet is cry'd down.

Not but Men may so write, that Reason may have as great a Share as Imagination, and that the Readers may find wherewith­all to exercise the one, as well as satisfie the other. There are Men of that excellent Genius, who at the same time Please and Instruct, move and Inlighten; but this is so extraordinary, and 'tis so difficult to keep [...]s Order, that a Poet finds it more his Ad­vantage to overthrow it, in giving a free scope to Imagination, and little to Reason. [Page 85] It ought, generally speaking, to be with Verses, as with the Beams of the Sun, which we cannot stedfastly look on without being dazzled by them. The number of passio­nate is much greater than that of mode­rate Men, and a Poet who has the Secret to move, and to inspire great Thoughts, shall always pass for a good Poet. But if he be not so to all the World, 'tis because the Dispositions of the Brain in all Men are not the same, and that their Minds are not equally affected with the same Things. In those Things which depend solely on good Sense, 'tis purely Want of Under­standing which makes that displease one Man which is approved by another. But in what depends on Imagination, if Men do not agree, 'tis because some have a fain­ter, or a different Relish of Things, than others. Reason is always One, and Pure; but the Senses are almost every where Dif­ferent.

IV.

Those who only write to move the Passi­ons, how agreeable soever their Perfor­mance be, must not expect to be approv'd of by all the World; not even by those who wholly judge by their Passions. We have a great Instance of it in the Judg­ments [Page 86] pass'd upon two great Poets of our Time.

The Age is so Fantastical, that Men who reject all manner of Rules, only to apply themselves to what pleases and flatters their Imagination, have sometimes despis'd Ra­cine, as delicate, and as insinuating a Poet as he is, and cannot enough esteem Cor­neille who commands and instructs them: Men that flie from every Thing that re­quires Approbation, that cannot relish a moral and imperious Character both toge­ther, who cannot suffer before their Eyes Examples they cannot follow, nor Actions they cannot imitate, are the first to prefer the Works of Corneille, before those of Ra­cine: Tho' the Character of the last is most natural, exposing only the Idea of Motions we our selves follow, and see followed by others; setting before our Eyes those Acti­ons we find our selves capable of, and to which we are naturally inclin'd. We also see Corneille crown'd with Lawrels by those who are angry and disgusted with the least Fault in the Language; who love only that which delicately moves, whilst they can scarcely say one favourable Word of Ra­cine, who is rich in his Thoughts, correct in his Expressions, and who Flatters and Pleases.

But if we consider, that the Passions, which are the same in all Men, are not of the same Force in all; that there are go­verning and predominant Passions, which however do not always Rule and upon all Occasions in the Hearts of those they pos­sess; that there are others which for a time usurp their Place, which inspire new Sen­timents, and give another Prospect of Things; we shall not be astonish'd that those who now are Charm'd with that which Tickles and Flatters, at another Time are only touch'd by that which surprises. The Passion for the Sublime, and Noble Stile, prevails then over the Moving and Pathetical. The Soft and Tender Expressi­ons yield to the Sublime and Lofty, till on some other Occasion it resumes its first Place, and makes way for its opposite Sen­timents.

The Spirit of Grandeur in most of the Works of Corneille, makes a far deeper Im­pression on some Men when dispos'd for it, than the Tenderness which is inspir'd in them by the Writings of Racine; and on the contrary in the Minds of a great many others, or indeed of themselves at another Time, the Flattering and Tender Stile of Racine, shall be infinitely esteem'd before the Loftiness of Corneille.

All Men are of a different Temper; and the Temperament in each Man is not al­ways the same as to every Thing. The Blood and the Spirits are dispos'd in some otherwise than in others, and receive great Changes in every particular Man. They are more or less Cold or Hot, according as they are fixed or agitated by their several Ferments. The Course of the Spirits is not always equal in the Brain, and goes not with the same Force; thence it happens that in Things which depend on the I­magination, one is for the Sublime, ano­ther for the Delicate and Charming; some delight in that which raises the Mind, o­thers in that which moves; and if the de­licate Fancy of these is charm'd with the Writings of Racine, the Pride of the others finds its Satisfaction in the Writings of Cor­neille. The truth is, if we will give a ra­tional Judgment, we must own there is a great deal of Softness and Passion in Corneille upon several Occasions, as well as of the Great and Sublime in Racine, and that they are two excellent Men in their several Ways of Writing.

V.

If to avoid the Medium so fatal to Poets, it is often convenient for them to surprise by their Sublimity, it does not less con­cern them to allure by Pleasure. They must either Dazle or Please, two dangerous Rocks, against which most Poets are Wreck'd. The Danger is so much the greater; because it is not sufficient for a Poet to write fine or pretty Things; but he must also meet with Men dispos'd to relish them. The difficult Point therefore of a Poet, is to find the most natural Way to quicken the Fancy, and the Art chiefly consists, in my Opinion, in the choice, in the harmony and just measures he observes, in the most exact, convenient, and natural Cadence of his Verses, in Reference to those who read them, and to the Subject he treats of. We often find that only by a handsom and noble, but principally a new Turn of Expression, a Poet pleases, and makes himself esteem'd.

Few Men penetrate any farther, being as it were inchanted by the peculiar Order [Page 90] and Placing of the Words, the happy Choice of the Rhymes, and a Concord of Sounds and Words which make a kind of Harmony.

The Reason is, because there is a certain Proportion which agrees with the Imagi­nation in those Things that depend on it, as we find there is one which pleases the Senses in sensible Objects. As the Ear is pleas'd with an Harmony of Sounds, the Taste with a certain seasoning of Meat well dress'd, and the Sight with a certain diver­sity of Colours well sorted and matched; so we find in Things well imagin'd, and in just Expressions, a certain Turn, a cer­tain Measure, a certain Congruity which pleases, and makes us own the Poet happy in his Thoughts. If this Proportion be not exactly just, if there be the least De­fect, it offends. Some Things there are which cannot properly be introduced into some Subjects, and therefore 'tis absurd to crowd them there, while others come na­turally and proper to the Subject.

We may easily perceive those differences, without being able to determine either in what they consist, or from whence they proceed; because judging of them only by the Senses or the Imagination. We can­not know what Things are but as they [Page 91] relate to our selves. If they are Good or Evil, that is to say, if they please or dis­please us, for 'tis the Pleasure or the Pain they create in us, which makes us pass our Verdict accordingly.

This Pleasure whether it proceeds from the Senses, or the Imagination, is often produc'd by a certain Conformity between Us and the Objects. Which Conformity makes us admire and relish them, as their Disproportion offends and makes us hate them.

According as those Conformities are more or less just, the Pleasures are more or less great; which is another Reason that amongst the Things we relish, we like some better than others, what we love at one time we slight at another, and what pleases one day may displease us the next.

An excellent Poet of old Rome was not ignorant of what importance it was, to make his Verses acceptable, to nick the Time wherein there would be most Con­formity between his Epigrams, and the Disposition of the Mind of him to whom he address'd Them, when he said,

He thought it the best Time for his Ver­ses to be read, when the Imagination of the Prince warm'd with Wine, and dispo­sing him to Pleasure and Mirth, put some Proportion between his jovial Humour, and the Poets Wit and Gayety. On the contrary his Muse durst not, said he, appear in a free and sedate Time, when the Prince possess'd with solid Thoughts, was of a much colder Temper; because his Gravity and Seriousness would not be pleas'd with his Wit and Jesting.

Nothing so much proves the Truth of what I have said, as the Sentiments that al­most all the World has of Verses and Poets. We do not like them but when the Mea­sure, the Choice of Words, the Harmony of Rhymes, the natural Connexion of the Verses and their particular Order, the Turn of Expression, and the Proportion well ob­serv'd in all those Things, flatter our Ima­gination, and raise our Fancy, by the pre­sent Conformity they have with us.

If those Proportions are not well observ'd, if the Expressions are mean, the Style per­plex'd, the Measures false, they produce [Page 93] nothing but a Dissonance, which displeases and tires us by its Disproportion.

VI.

With the good leave of our Poets, th [...] whole Secret of their Art consists in find­ing Terms, and ranging them in good Or­der.

'Tis most commonly the only Thing that distinguishes them. The Beauty of their Thoughts vanishes, almost as soon as you strip them of the Beauty of their Expressi­ons. Let us take one of the finest Places of any Poet, which we have been the most charm'd with, and turn it into another Language, or into the same in other Terms; that very Place shall immediately lose its Ex­cellency, and very often becomes Mean and Dull,

By which we see that Imagination has a greater share in Poetry than the Mind; that 'tis Imagination that forms the noble Talent of a Poet, and which alone makes that Sort of Wits.

Not that I design absolutely to exclaim against all sorts of Poetry, or declare my self a sworn Enemy of the Poets. I must own it, I esteem their Talent, and set a Value on their fine Verses. I am, like others, pleas'd with them, but they must pardon me if I cannot acknowledge them to be what they are not, nor esteem them more than they really deserve.

There are two sorts of Men who are al­ways opposing each other; those who aim at Niceness and Delicacy, and those who affect Soundness of Reason. The former laugh at the latter for their Pedantry, and these scorn the others for their want of so­lid Judgment. Neither of 'em are much to blame; for Delicacy ought to be sup­ported by Solidity, and this ought to be adorn'd with Delicacy. Without this Tem­perament, the one seems Light and Ridicu­lous, and the other Wild and Enthu­siastick.

This Dispute is chiefly carried on between the Philosophers and Poets. The Philosopher in the Poet's Opinion is nothing but a dreaming Dotard, and the Philosopher thinks the Poet an airy Coxcomb. To put an end to this Controversy, the Philosopher should be more Polish'd, and the Poet more Solid.

'Tis unreasonable to think, that a great Capacity and sound Judgment is the only Qualification that is requir'd in solid and serious Works; and that a neat Invention, and Delicacy will suffice in those that are fine and agreeable. For both the one and the other would be exceedingly better and of greater worth, if Reason and Politeness govern'd equally in them both; and if we would endeavour to be Witty, without be­ing less Rational, or follow good Sense, without being less Polite.

VII.

What I have said of a Wit who values himself for his Poetry, I may almost say of him who pretends to distinguish himself by his Eloquence. Their Talents are vey diffe­rent; yet they have this common to them both; that True Wit has scarce any share in their Productions. 'Tis only another Turn of Imagination, which distinguishes the Orator from the Poet; 'tis another Manner of Surprizing, and Moving, which are the two principal Ends of a VVit, Whatever Talent he has to Compass them.

As the Design of a Poet is to represent Things well, and to turn his Conceptions into lively and sensibly Images in his Verse; so all the Skill of an Orator consists in giving [Page 96] you fine Draughts of his Imagination in his Eloquence. But as neither of them can draw (if I may use that Expression) but af­ter the Images and Expressions ingrav'd in their Brain, and which properly they do but Copy; they must of necessity strongly apply their Minds to those Images and in­cessantly look on them; always inslav'd to their Imaginations, as well as guilty of all the Violence they commit on Reason, and all the Disorder they cause in the Mind. For if once they take their Imagination for their Guide, they must absolutely follow it, and resolve at the same time to fall into all its Errors.

For this Reason we must not think it strange, if their Paintings, (otherwise very fine) are in reality so little Natural, and if those we call Wits palm false and counter­feit Thoughts upon us. They scarcely see any thing but through thick Clouds rais'd by their over-heated Imaginations in their Minds; that is, by the Impressions the A­nimal Spirits which are subtil and agitated ingrave in their Brain; as I have already explain'd it in Conformity to the Nature of the Fibres, the Disposition of the Blood, and Quality of the Ferments which mix with them.

VIII.

There are two sorts of Eloquence, a True, and a False one; and there are two sorts of Genius which put them both in Practice. Some apply themselves as much, if not more, to the Knowledge of the Matter they are to speak of, than to the Manner; and use all their Skill to manage well their Sub­ject rather than Imbellish it. Others never penetrate into their Subject, but make it their whole Business to find out the manner and means of rendring it agreeable; these labour rather to adorn than dive into it, and take less care to discover what it is, than to disguise it by making it appear what it is not.

We may easily discover the difference of those sorts of Eloquence, if we will but con­sider their principal Ends. True Eloquence has three, viz. to Instruct, Please, and Per­suade; as a famous Orator handsomely ex­presses it. Ut Veritas pateat, ut Veritas pla­ceat, ut Veritas moveat. False Eloquence has also three Ends, viz. to Dazle, to Touch, and Surprize. They absolutely differ, both in their Ends and Ways. For tho' both may very often equally Please and Per­suade, there is yet this Difference between them, that one is for the Pleasure of the [Page 98] Senses and Imagination, and the other for the Pleasure of the Mind. One persuades by Reason, the other by Impression. And because neither of 'em can attain their Ends but by assiduously applying themselves to fine Imaginations, and noble Descriptions, to do it effectually, the one must first bring forth the Products of Imagination with the Conceptions of the Mind, and compare the Images engraven in the Brain with the clear Ideas of the Mind; whereas the other submits all to the Information of the Senses, and judges as Fancy leads him.

IX.

Let us now see if true Eloquence, such as it ought to be in its natural Purity, whose Source is the Light of the Mind, and which takes only from a well regulated Imaginati­on those Helps that are necessary to pro­duce this Light, can be the part of a VVit.

To solve this Doubt, we need only re­flect upon the Works of several Men, either printed or spoken, even of those, who, by I know not what good Fortune have gain'd the Admiration of the World. What fine Words! What Phrases! What Antitheses! What Flights! What Fire do we not find in their Orations! But, if we do but seriously penetrate into the Bottom of them, we shall [Page 99] find it all to be but Emptiness^*. I should never have done, if I here were minded to recite all the particular Examples of this false Eloquence, our Libraries would furnish me with Volumes full of 'em. But a few Re­flections will serve to remark the Faults committed by these VVits in their Pieces of Oratory, by which they propos'd to raise their Reputation in the World.

When we say such a Man is a Man of Eloquence, we mean one who produces just Notions on the Subject he treats of; who finds proper and genuine Reasons for what he says; and who has the Art and Talent to explain them in a lively, but pure and clear manner to others. For after all, a Discourse has no true Ornaments, but such as are extracted from the Justness of the Thoughts that compose it, from the Sound­ness of the Reasons that support it, and from the natural Manner of turning it.

Thus we banish from true Oratory those vain Imbellishments which disfigure it; such as rambling and general Notions, weak and scatter'd Reasons, useless Digressions, strain'd Figures, and forc'd Comparisons; [Page 100] in a Word, all those Frothy Speeches full of nothing but Words, and little to the Purpose. A Man of VVit seems to me the most subject to fall into all these Errors and Extravagancies, as well in respect of his Stile as Thoughts, the two principal Things which ought to fix our Judgment either in reading, or hearing.

As among those who pretend to write, either in Prose or Verse, a Wit is one that makes the greatest Efforts to shew and di­stinguish himself by his Stile; so the Ambi­tion he has to write something extraordi­nary makes him fall into two inevitable Errors, common to all vain and presump­tuous Authors, viz. Meanness and Confusi­on. Nicety, and too trifling a Delicacy, insensibly entangles him in the first; and the Sublime, or Admirable he affects, leads him into the other, according as his Ima­gination more or less hurries him to be Sublime or delicate, and he can never ex­press himself in a noble Stile, without swelling, and in a Delicate without too much Nicety.

X.

If the Works of a VVitty Man want the Graces of Plainness and Clearness of Style, we will find much less Truth and Instruction in his Sentiments.

He that will not reflect on the Natural Knowledge which our Mind discovers as it were within it self, whenever he will seri­ously fix upon it; that will not dive again into the first Principles, and those great and first Truths on which depend [...] the Certain­ty of all the rest; and who will not bring back again to them that Chain of Reflecti­ons Custom obliges us to make; such a Man can never know any Truths with As­surance, even of those that are commonly receiv'd. He shall neither be well con­vinc'd, nor strongly persuaded of any Thing, not even of that which he believes he knows the best; because he only be­lieves it but by Prepossession; without any other Foundation than what he builds on weak Conjectures, on the Authority of o­thers, or the Opinion of the World.

We ought not therefore to expect any Thing excellent from an Author, but in pro­portion as he is capable of making Reflecti­ons. Now I'll leave you to judge if a gid­dy fickle Imagination, and a false Delicacy ever give a Wit the leisure to make any se­rious Reflections.

Nevertheless he is applauded, and esteem'd by most Men, tho' Clearness, the chief Beauty of any Discourse (as a great Orator tells us) is seldom seen in his Works, [Page 102] and altho' he amuses us either with unin­telligible Stuff or false Reasoning, because we are commonly such Fools as to be plea­sed with it. Those pretended fine Things we find in them, the more Obscure they are, the more Beautiful they appear; they fill the Imagination, or please the Mind; which is the Reason that we either Admire, or Love them.

XI.

By the Admiration which arises from the Impression made in the Brain by something which appears very Extraordinary, or from the Surprise it produces in the Soul, the Animal Spirits dispers'd in the Nerves, move with greater swiftness, so that Part of the Brain where the Impression has been made. They augment and preserve it, as long as their Motion lasts, and the Cause that produc'd it; keeping by Consequence the Soul as it were in Suspence, so that it cannot in that Interval apply it self to any Thing else.

The same Effect is also wrought on a great many Men by those choice Expressi­ons, fine Figures, pompous Descriptions, and bold Characters, which fill and adorn those eloquent Orations so much boasted of, and of which one may say what an [Page 103] Ancient Writer said on the same Subject, Plus sonant quam valent; because in effect, they impose upon us by the confus'd Noise they make. 'Tis impossible but the false glittering that reigns in those Discourses must fill the Imagination of those who read or hear them, by communicating a Moti­on to the Animal Spirits, proper to make an unexpected Impression in their Brain, and by this means surprise the Soul. Which continues affected with the surprise till the Motion of the Animal Spirits being weakned, the Impression wears off, or is not so fresh; and then the Soul returns from its Surprise as it were from a Dream.

By the Approbation which proceeds from the Impression made on the Senses by Things that seem Pleasant, and the sweet Commotion they cause in the Soul, the Ani­mal Spirits delicately agitated equally spread themselves in the Brain, and the rest of the Body, and put into a Disposition pro­per to produce Sentiments that flatter and please the Soul, and which intice it towards those Objects that caus'd the Impression.

The same Effect is made on the Minds of beau Monde, who are always more Sensible than Reasonable, by that vain subtility of Thoughts, that we set out with the name of Delicacy, that Contexture of fine Ter [...] [Page 104] that Exquisite Mixture of Figures, that Turn of Expression which seems Natural, but is not, that Measure of Phrases accom­pani'd with a certain Tone of the Voice; which makes a kind of Harmony that tic­kles the Ear; in one word, all those false Flourishes we remark in the best receiv'd Writings, and which prepossess the World in favour of their Author. But when the Impression is once worn out, the Commo­tion of the Soul ceases, and that pretended Beauty of Discourse vanishes with the pre­possessing Pleasure from whence it had its Original.

Now this is the whole Compass of a Wit's Talent, let him write in Verse or Prose, to Dazle by false Glittering, or Prepossess by Pleasure; without suffering the Light of the Mind or Reason to have any share in it. Those Writings are like certain Wo­men, who please, tho' not handsome, by something unaccountably Agreeable, and which surprises, tho' we cannot tell where­in those Charms consist. 'Tis the same with Speeches full of uncommon Notions and lively Expressions, which please, but leave us in the Dark as to the Thing that makes us relish them.

XII.

I am not surpris'd, that a Wit should in­deavour to gain himself a Reputation by his Poetry or Rhetorick. As those two Things do almost wholly depend on the Imagination, he may promise himself suc­cess from his natural Talent. But that he should take upon him to be an Historian, and pretend to write History, is an unpar­donable Temerity, because nothing can be more contrary to his Character. I do not mean those Books that go under the Name of little Histories or Romances, the chief De­sign of which is to amuse and please with fine Expressions and Fictions, and there­fore a Wit may here come off with Honour. But I mean Histories of States, or particu­lar Men illustrious either by their Birth or Merit. And I wonder, chiefly for these two Reasons, at the Confidence of certain pretended Wits who undertake to write such Histories. The first is, because they are ignorant of them; and the second, be­cause they are oblig'd to disguise that little Insight they have in them.

To make what we advanced plainer, 'tis necessary to make some Reflections on what we commonly understand by Histo­ry, on the Manner of Studying it, and on [Page 106] the End we propose to our selves by that Study.

I think I may safely say, that most Men look upon History to be nothing else but a Relation of Facts, a Heap of Names, and a long Collection of Events; that all the Application it requires, consists in retaining the Names, bringing the Facts together, and charging the Memory with them, to have 'em ready upon all Occasions, so as to make our selves acceptable in Company and distinguish'd in the World.

In order to which we may observe, that people apply themselves to reading, and running over all the Historians one after another, both Ancient and Modern, Good and Bad. As for Order they follow none, but regulate themselves in that Point only as Occasion, and certain Circumstances of Time, require one History to be more pre­sent to them than another, and all this to flatter their Vanity to which they sacrifice every Thing. If we did not know the in­fluence of humane Pride, we could hardly believe that Men should judge so ill of History, and that they should make so mean an Use of it. Yet it is but too Evident, and the Error is no less General than Gross.

XIII.

History comprehends the Knowledge o [...] Times and Ages, the Alliances of Families the Revolutions of States, and Interest of Princes, their Characters, memorable Acti­ons, and the Means and Methods they im­ploy'd to execute them, as well as a Know­ledge of the Actions of several other Men of Name and Reputation. And indeed the knowledge of those Things deserves our Application.

But the end we ought to propose to our selves herein should be Instruction and Knowledge, for we can propose nothing else to our selves by our Studies, but to render our selves Experienced and Virtuous▪ If we go upon other Designs, they are in every respect Vain and False, and we can­not excuse the Weakness of those that are guilty of them.

If we make Knowledge and Virtue th [...] scope of our reading, History comprehend every thing necessary for so great an End 'Tis a large Field where we may reap a [...] infinite Number of excellent Lessons, lef [...] us by the Author, without designing any such thing, who in their Time wrote mor [...] for their own Honour than our [...]nstructions; and nothing but our own ill management [Page 108] can deprive us of so happy and so plentiful a Harvest.

The first false Step they who deprive themselves of this Advantage make, is when they suppose they have perform'd their Du­ty, by burdening they Memory with abun­dance of Chronology, in giving a punctual Account of Families, from the highest down to the lowest Branch; in filling their Minds with a Series of Occurrences, as dif­ficult to be retain'd as they are ill digested. All this cannot but darken the Mind instead of inlightning it, and load us instead of instructing us.

On the contrary, by the End every one ought to propose to himself in his Studies, 'tis easie to judge that nothing but a seri­ous Attention, can give us that Profit we might otherwise expect from the study of History. This Study does not consist, in reading History simply to satisfie the Curio­sity we have to know what was acted in for­mer Ages; but rather to have an Occasion of comparing the Past with the Present, with relation to the Time to come. In this the great Advantage we receive from History consists, as well in relation to the Mind, as to the Heart. Which is thus.

XIV.

We know that to what Science soever we apply our selves, a good Wit, good In­structions, and Industry are necessary Con­ditions to make us Proficients in it, and that good Masters are a great Help to us to re­move the Difficulties we meet with. But, with all those Dispositions and helps, we cannot fully master it, till after a great Ap­plication and long Exercise. Let our Be­ginning be never so promising, our succeed­ing Care never so great, nothing but a con­summate Experience can make a great Man.

History, supplies the defect of Age and Experience in Men that make a good Use of it; I mean such as can judge of what is to come by what's past, and to regulate the present both by the one and the other; which is the most considerable Benefit of this Science. Those that neglect this Ad­vantage, or are not capable of taking it, [...]ad best lay aside this Study, how good soe­ver their Memory may be to retain what they read.

Our Mind is full of Difficulties and Clouds which darken it, and that Trouble the most acute Men meet with in great Enter­prises, does but too much prove the Weak­ness of our Understanding. The Know­ledge [Page 110] of History may help to dissipate those Clouds, not only by setting before our Eyes an infinite Variety of Events and par­ticular Affairs, but by giving us an Occasion to penetrate into the most hidden Causes of Events by Reflections, and so enabling us to discover the secret Springs of Affairs; their Motives and Inducements, with the Con­texture that serves to justify them. What signifies it for a Man to know what is past, if he be ignorant of the Reasons and Cau­ses of it? he only satisfies his Curiosity, and keeps himself in Ignorance.

What is past can neither serve the present nor what is to come, any otherwise than by the Coherencies we discover between what is already done, and what may be done. Those Coherencies are different. Some outward, such as shew apparent re­semblances between the Things we com­pare. Others inward, such as are inherent in the very Body of the Subject, of Cau­ses and Circumstances, and these discover perfect Resemblances. For the Discovery therefore of these Coherencies we ought to search into the very Bottom, without stopping at the Surface. And nothing but this particular Discovery of the Ground and Bottom of Things, can supply the place of Experience, and make Histo­ry, [Page 111] as to the Mind, supply the Defects of Age.

XV.

Since History is full of great and manifold Examples of Prudence, Generosity, and Vertue, the Heart may improve it self as well as the Mind. Has any Thing so much Power over us as Example? Does it not per­suade us a hundred times more than all the Eloquence of the Orators? If this has the Force to move us, Example which is more powerful, often hurries us away without giving us time to recollect our selves.

But, whereas good Examples are for the most part mix'd with bad, and these make as great, if not a greater Impression on us than the others, therefore an exquisite Judgment is requir'd to avoid the second, and follow the first. Precipitation in this Case is dangerous, and would be apt to hurry us into Mistakes. 'Twould make us find in History Fewel to inflame our Passions, instead of Means to moderate them.

Nor must we be upon our Guard against bad Examples only, for in some Sense good ones may prove injurious. We may ad­mire great Examples, without pretending to follow them; some we may both esteem and follow, but there are none we can in all respects imitate.

Tho' we often discover what will be, or ought to be done, by what is already past, and may determine our selves by the Ex­ample of others; yet there is something ve­ry singular in Facts, which alters the Spe­cies, and requires a prudent regard. Capa­city is requisite in every Thing, but not every where the same. For which Reason one of the greatest Politicians of our Age did not require an entire and exact Know­ledge of History in a States Man, but only a general Insight into it; because, said he, the Occasions and Circumstances not being the same at all times, he is more to be esteem'd for the Penetration of his Mind, than for his Knowledge. He might have said more; for Accidents and Circumstan­ces are sometimes the same, and yet the E­vents vary▪ So that, to avoid Mistakes, we must be very wary and circumspect▪ and I defy the most happy Memory furnish'd with the finest Passages of History, to keep one from being misled.

XVI:

If this Science can make a good Politician, if it instructs one how to live like a Man of Honour, and to govern himself as a wise and Prudent Man; it must be granted, that this happens only when 'tis well under­stood [Page 113] by the Mind, and acquir'd by Refle­ctions. Imagination and Memory are no more requisite to it than to fix our Thoughts on what we examine, or to bring into our Mind what has been formerly examin'd by us; which is done much easier by Reflecti­on, than by bare Reading without it. For 'tis certain that Reflection is a mighty Help to make us Remember, and that Judgment is a very great Assistant to Memory; tho' as I have formerly observ'd 'tis of little Help to the Judgment, and may in one Sence be an Hindrance to it.

'Twould be over-straining the Point, to say on this Hypothesis, that a happy Me­mory is no good Quality for the solid learning of History. But that it is not the best, nor the most necessary, and that it is not the Quality we ought to make most Use of to arrive at the perfect Knowledge of History, is a Truth not to be denied.

The Knowledge of the World is also one of the most considerable Advantages we can reap from History; but it is because that Science has its Principle in the Know­ledge of Man, and that History gives us perfectly that Knowledge. I mean a Moral Knowledge, rather than Metaphysical, a­bout which the Philosophers raise endless Disputes.

The World is a Multitude compos'd of People, made almost like Machines re­sembling each other, but with very diffe­rent Motions and Actions. A Man cannot know the World without knowing those People, together with the different Mo­tives that make them Act; and, as the Whole is scarce to be known without a par­ticular Knowledge of its Parts, so we can have no perfect Knowledge of the World, without a previous Knowledge of the Men who compose it.

History affords us true Paintings of Men's Hearts, such as represent it to the Life, that shew us what 'tis, and what 'tis capa­ble of. It lays open the Passions of Man, and draws 'em more lively than those learn­ed Works that Authors have written.

It teaches us to know what Imagination supported by Passion can do, and what the Motions of this are, when actuated by the other. We also know by it what Reason can, or cannot do, together with its Strength and Weakness. The Man and the Hero appear there, and we discover the se­cret Springs which make them act, in spight of the vain Disguise made use of to hide them. The Life of Man is too short to make al [...] these Discoveries in those we see and converse with during our Abode [Page 115] here; we must, as it were lengthen, and stretch it out, by joining to it those Men's Lives who are gone before us, and make them serve instead of Old Age to us, which only can defend us from the Ignorance and Surprizes of Youth. History lays before us all those Lives, not so much to content our Curiosity, as to fill our Hearts with excel­lent Maxims of Politicks and Morals, to regulate thereby our Conduct.

Conversation alone makes not an excel­lent Man; the use of Books alone, much less. To acquire that Quality, we must know how to mix those two Things with Discretion, observe what passes in the World, and reflect upon what has been done. To History we must join our own experience, I mean a true, faithful and ex­act History, such as is the Work of some faithful knowing Historian; not a disguis'd and fabulous History which has receiv'd as many Alterations, as it has employ'd Pens, and comes from a suspected and prejudiced Author.

XVII.

As for the Order and Method commonly observ'd in this difficult Study, it seems to me very different from what ought to be follow'd; Men being for the most part gui­ded [Page 116] in it by their Capricio and Fancy. Some are for reading History over and over, it being a Thing as it were impossible but that the Mind must retain something out of so much Variety. Others would have us read all sorts of Books indifferently, at least to accustom our selves to Books and Read­ing, but wherein lies the Excellency, to read much, and make no Advantage by it? Ignorance is doubtless preferable to such Learning that is more proper to corrupt the Heart than to instruct the Mind.

Tho' we cursorily run over all the Histo­rians, and read all their Books; tho' by a wonderful and amazing Strength of Me­mory we can remember all we read, yet we may still be very far from understaning History, as knowing as we may seem to ap­pear in it to the Eyes of the Vulgar, who are always ignorant and easy to be surpriz'd.

Whatever Advantage one may reap from this Science, how great soever his Genius may be, he will not be much the wiser for it, unless he makes some Difference between Knowing or Remembring after he has read, and Understanding or Judging after he has examin'd.

A Man of Wit, with all his Genius, his lively, strong, and capacious Imagination, and his happy Memory, is therefore far [Page 117] from understanding History, because he is endow'd but with the least part of those ne­cessary Dispositions for that Study, and is incapable of the Principal ones.

What I have said of History, of the Man­ner of learning it, and of the End Men should propose to themselves in that Study, being compar'd with what our Men of Wit think of it, the Method they use to understand it, and the End they propose to themselves by it, does visibly make it appear how incapacitated they are to write History▪ and how rash to undertake a Work they know so little of, and are not in a Condi­tion to understand.

A great Capacity of Mind, a strong Pe­netration to discover the Truth of Things, and a competent Sincerity to speak it, are Qualities absolutely necessary for a good Hi­storian. How many do we find thus quali­fied? Most of them want Capacity, for want of Reflecting; a great many Sinceri­ty, because they want Liberty. Slaves to their Reputation, I [...]ill not say to their Interest, and seduc'd by their VVit, they take less Care to write the Truth, than to Flatter and write finely. They are led by common Opinion, and guided by a false Politeness.

On this Subject I shall remark a particu­lar Fault of our Man of Wit, viz. that he seldom writes but at other Mens Cost and Labour. He has the Conscience to appro­priate to himself what does not belong to him, and the Secret to make it pass for his own. As great a Transcriber as he is, he gives his Works the Air of Originals, by which he imposes on Mankind. He chan­ges, turns, and disguises, and so alters the Matter, that he scarce leaves any Title to the Proprietor, by which he may defend his Right. But, should we take it to pieces, and (according to the Law of Nature) restore to every one what belong'd unto him, what would there remain in this Pla­giary? a new Turn of Expression, a few Choice Words, another Style and way of Expression. This is all we can allow him, and in Effect 'tis all that belongs to him, as appears by those numerous Volumes of stragling Histories, which some certain Wits expose every day to the World, and which owe the Success they have for a Time, merely to the Charms of Novelty.

XVIII.

If amongst our Wits some value them­selves for Poetry, some for Oratory, others for History, there are some who vainly pre­tend [Page 119] to all three; and tho' they will not give themselves the Trouble to write, yet gain Esteem by a Sort of Learning, which according to them consists in knowing the Poets, and understanding other Authors, but most of all the Ancient and Modern Histo­rians. It will not be improper therefore to make some few Reflections on the use some of our Wits make of this Science, and for which they value themselves under the spe­cious Name of fine Learning. The Know­ledge of the Belles Lettres is, of all Sciences the most generally pursued, and cultivated by all sorts of People that pretend the least to Learning. 'Tis what is first taught our Youth, whatever Imployment they are de­sign'd for; and if some afterwards slight it as an Amusement proper only for Youth, others find such Delight in it, as to make it the serious Occupation of their whole Lives.

The Mathematickt, Philosophy, Physick, Law, and Divinity, divide Learned Men between them: But all of them agree in their Pretensions to the Belles Lettres. Eve­ry Man sets up for it, none undervalue it, and if any one has made but a little pro­gress in it, 'tis rather imputed to the Defect of his Memory, than his Remissness to in­struct himself in it.

From all this a Man wou'd be apt to in­fer, that this Science must needs be of a wonderful Advantage, and that we have some great Designs on foot, when we make it our sole Imployment. But if we consi­der the Method us'd to attain it, we may well be surpris'd, that we can't discover what End Men propose to themselves by this Study, and we shall have Reason to be­lieve that most of them take it up without any End at all.

We put into the hands of Children, Poets and other Authors, to explain and learn by Heart. We force them to this Study by Punishments, or intice them by Rewards. They apply themselves to it for a conside­rable Time; then rest there, without con­sidering what their Study ought to tend to, nor of what Use it may be to them hereaf­ter. If we ask the School-masters, who ought to give us satisfaction in this point, what their Design is in their Imployment, they tell us, sometimes, 'tis only to exercise the Memory of Youth, sometimes to accu­stom them betimes to love Books and Read­ing, and in short, to give them an univer­sal and general Knowledge of Things.

These are very general, and indeed very Childish Ends; and I do not admire, that they who know no other, should think [Page 121] this pretended Science only fit for a College, and the Imployment of School-boys.

Those who take a Pride to study it, after another manner, and to make it of greater Use; who pretend by the Help of it to be reckoned among the Learned, and gain a Reputation among the Wits of the World, find out more noble Advantages by it. Of which this is not the least, that by this Learning they acquire a Politeness of Mind not to be had any other Way, how great soever their Natural Parts may be.

These Men doubtless are in the right. Learning polishes and instructs the Mind, gives a relish to good Things, and inspires a delicacy of Fancy. 'Tis chiefly by those Inducements that this Science is of such an Universal Use, and that this same Study, which seems most to savour of School-learn­ing is that which distinguishes us the most from a Pedant.

I do therefore agree as to the End, but I cannot approve of the usual Means made use of to arrive at it. Whilst Men will con­tent themselves with reading carelesly the Poets and all other Authors without Judg­ment and Choice, only to know what Sub­jects they have treated of, in what T [...]e they wrote, and the Names of those Per­sons they discours'd of; whilst they shall [Page 122] think they have done enough if they have faithfully retain'd a few Apophthegms which they don't understand, or some Verses, or some whole Pages of a Book ill digested; and that they will value themselves, for re­citing with assurance what they never learn'd but confusedly; As it is no more than the Effect of a happy Memory, so the pretended Advantage of so trivial a Know­ledge will be but a ridiculous Vanity, an Accomplishment more becoming a Pedant than a Gentleman.

But if on the contrary, according to the Example of those ingenious Grecians whose Learning and Politeness has render'd their Nation Famous, Men would make use of this Science but to polish what may be rough and course in their Nature, to in­spire more delicate Thoughts, and give the Mind a more noble and excellent Impressi­on; As that will be the Effect of well di­gested Learning, so the Fruit of this Science will be much more exquisite, and the Sci­ence it self more esteem'd.

XIX.

In this we ought to agree with all Men of I [...]dgment, that the Knowledge of hu­mane Learning is proper to Ingenious Men▪ but we must also confess, that it is some­times [Page 123] the Occupation of Blockheads, by the ill use which may be made of it.

To store up in ones Memory a confus'd Heap of Passages of Authors, and Sentences of Poets; to repeat very often in Conver­sation a Latin Verse of one of the ancient Poets when we have just heard one of the Company say the same thing very natural­ly in English; to busie our selves in what place we found the Sentence we quoted, and of which we have forgot the Author, ra­ther than consider if it be to the purpose, is the blind side of this Science, and we cannot but very much despise it, if look'd upon with this Disadvantage. But to read with Reflexion, to distinguish the true from the false, the good from the ill, to pe­netrate with Judgment into the real Sense of an Author, to accustom ones self insen­sibly to the Delicacy that a Poet inspires, to relish the real Charms and reject the false, and never to talk in Company but to the purpose and with Discretion; to forget sometimes the fine Expressions we admire in an Author, and stick only to his Truths, and so get an Habit of Politeness and Inge­nuity; In a word, to be less careful of load­ing our Memory, than forming our Mind, is the right Use of Learning, and that which makes the whole value of it.

I do not fear to say it, we see very. Few who turn it to this good Use. A Wit par­ticularly shews he never knew the Impor­tance of it, who applies himself to it only to fill his Imagination, exercise his Memo­ry, and so pass for a Nice and Ingenious Man, without being either. What may be he never understood is, that there is a false Delicacy to be avoided, and a vain Po­liteness to be fear'd. 'Tis necessary to give to the Mind those Ornaments and Graces which are not natural to it, to which Learn­ing contributes more than any Thing else. But we ought to take care, that by endea­vouring to polish it, we do not weaken it, and that too much Delicacy do's not ren­der it Little or Effeminate. 'Tis with the Mind as with any fine Pieces of Workman­ship; which become weak and brittle b [...] being too nicely wrought. The last stroke of the Carver's Chisel very often spoils a [...] his Work, and Experience convinces us, that many Men have corrupted their Judg­ments and Fancy by too much refining them.

XX.

'Tis common enough with those who value themselves for their Learning, to be more touch'd with a fine Impression than [Page 125] with the Thing expressed, tho' perhaps more Admirable than the Expression it self. The Reason is, that, if they have Sense enough to be charm'd with the Expression, they have not Judgment enough to pene­trate into the Goodness of the Thing ex­pressed. Their Fancy is too delicate, and too much polished to be Solid; they have taken away its Force, under pretence of rendring it more Polite. Thus nothing seems fine to them but what agreeably moves and delights, and they take notice of nothing but what shines and surprises, not considering that the Ornaments Men make use of to imbellish their Discourse, let them be of what nature they will, should be regarded only, but as so many Charms which draw us to a stricter and nearer Con­sideration of those Things, either to know them, or make them useful. 'Tis the Road that leads us to it, but 'tis a mighty Weak­ness to stop there.

I am not of the Opinion of those morose and severe Criticks, who condemn every Thing that has but the Air of politeness and neatness of Fancy; who forbid us to alter any thing from that rough and de­form'd State wherein Nature left it. A State they admire the more, as best agree­ing with the grossness and coarsness of their [Page 126] Minds; as if the Works of Nature were so accomplish'd, that Art must lie still, and have nothing to do. When Beauty it self, in order to gain admiration, is found to borrow Ornaments, which raise and set out its Charms. And so the Mind ought to turn its Thoughts in such a Manner as may raise and make them better relish'd and esteem'd. Without this help, 'twould be like Gold mix'd with the Earth, which keeps it from our Sight, and intirely hides its Lustre.

Having said in another Place, that Ima­gination makes the fineness and delicacy of the Mind, 'twould be giving my self the lye to disapprove the good Use one may make of it, and to reject all sort of Polite­ness, either in Speaking or Writing, since it would be to retrench the Effects, when we have admitted the Cause. The Imagi­nation, like a skilful Workwoman, who chuses the best Methods to put her Design in hand, makes use of Books, as necessary Instruments to give a fineness and politeness to the Mind, which is to be attain'd no other Way.

But I have already said it, and I say it again, that, if the Mind wants Penetration and Judgment, if Reason is not advis'd with in all Things, if it does not always [Page 127] march at the head, if Imagination gets the start, or does not consult it, all Deli­cacy is vain, the Charms fallacious, and can only please the Vulgar, and Men of no Penetration.

A Man of Wit, who sets forth those Charms with so much Confidence in all Companies whatsoever, may sometimes surprise by a false Politeness, which makes him skilfully disguise his own Weakness to himself, and hide it from others; but we perceive it at last through all its Di­guises; and the Remark I have often made, that the Man of Wit is not a Wit at all times, nor before all sorts of Per­sons, is enough of it self to raise the Doubt, or take off the Mask. The Mode of it changes, as that of Cloaths in France. Our ancient Authors do not seem less Fan­tastical to us by some Pieces of Wit they have left us, than by the Habits they wore. Their Puns, Equivocations, Sentences, and certain merry Tales which were the choi­cest Productions of their Wit, for the most part, are as much out of Fashion, as their Ruffs and round Breeches. So will the Wit of our Time be changed as that of former Ages was for this; and future Ages per­haps will be surpris'd, how 'twas possible for us to be pleas'd with it.

How can a Man of Wit assure himself of a more happy Destiny, when he can scarce promise himself a better at present? If lik'd here, he is disliked elsewhere; if ap­plauded to day, 'twill be own'd a mistake to morrow. As his whole Study is to please the Fancy, so Men judge of it only by Caprice. He is but slighted or extol­led, as the Blood is more coagulated, or rarefied, more heated, or chilled: Men are the same in respect of Wit, as of Co­lours. As the liveliest Colours please them at one time, the dullest at another; so they are sometimes for the lofty and sublime, and sometimes for the plain and natural. As for what comes from a Man of Judgment, I find the World is not so changeable, being as it were forced to esteem him, in any State or Condition, tho' somewhat coldly. An Argument that the Imagination is not very well satisfi'd with the honour we pay to Reason.

XXI.

I make, you see, a great difference be­tween Reason, and Fancy. All the World talks of this, and would have it in Per­fection, and no Man explains what it is. For ought I know, it may be one of those Things we should make mor [...] obscure by [Page 129] attempting to define it. If I may tell my Thoughts of it, it seems to me a confus'd, but natural Sentiment of the Soul, which moves independantly from its other Lights. This Sentiment is caus'd by the Conformi­ty there is, between the Imagination or the Senses, and the Objects offered unto them; because the Impression the Objects make on the Bodies is naturally follow'd by Sentiments of the Soul, agreeable or disagreeable, according to the Confor­mity between the Soul and those Ob­jects.

But whatever is meant by Fancy, this we must agree in, that it cannot be good and right, any farther than it is conform­able to Reason, and follows it close; nor can a Man be said to have a good Fancy, but when he loves nothing but what is True, Natural▪ and Just. Whatever is False or Confus'd, without either Clearness or Reason, is Naught, and ought to be so esteem'd, if our Fancy be not deprav'd. But 'tis very seldom that Fancy which springs from the Dispositions of the Body subject to so many alterations, agrees with Reason which is always uniform; I mean, that confus'd Sentiments and a clear Under­standing should hold together. Nor is it a matter of Wonder that what proceeds [Page 130] from Fancy, having a Dependancy on the Body, should be liable to so great alterati­ons, nothing but Reason being Immutable of it self

In Effect, good Sense which makes us discourse like reasonable Men, is the same that made the Ancients speak ratio­nally also. Humour, Fancy, and Fashi­ons may change; but Reason is the same in all Ages, and knows no Vicissitude.

We must therefore of necessity relish the ancient Authors, where they write good Sense; we need not fear being disapproved by those who shall come after us, if we write after the same manner.

Every Thing that comes from a Man of Wit is much more pleasing, because it moves Men more lively, but it does not please long. A Man of Judgment pleases not so much, because he does not touch so sensibly, but then he always pleases.

I.

THE Ancient Philosophers who left certain Methods, how we ought to regulate our Conduct and Manners for the whole Course of our Lives, have consider'd Men relatively to their different Stations; either in themselves, and as private Persons; or in a Family, as making part of it; or in the State, as Members thereof. They have consider'd 'em, either as living pri­vately, or rais'd to some Dignity; either studying their own proper Interest, and managing their particular Affairs, or inga­ged in the Publick, and intrusted with Af­fairs of State. For indeed these two Oc­cupations imploy the greatest part of Man­kind. Of which two sorts of Imployment, a Wit in my Opinion is very little capable, [Page 132] no more than of those Instructions that might be given him upon that Subject.

For the most part those who have the Reputation of Wits in the World, want two Qualities which are absolutely neces­sary to make a compleat and able Man; viz. Force and Liberty of Mind. They want Force, since too constant application to Bu­siness tires them, and it is not in their Power to bestow a serious Attention on what they are about; either the sprightli­ness and fire of their Minds do's transport them beyond the Bounds of Attention, or a false notion of Delicacy makes them neg­lect it. They also want Liberty of Mind, or at least are almost incapable of using it; for being Hasty and Impatient, they judge without examining, and decide without making Reflexions. Accustomed to pass over every Thing lightly and without pe­netration, their Tongues run before their Wit, and are easily prepossessed, because they will not allow themselves time to con­sider. So that they have two Qualities dia­m [...]trically opposite to Ability in Affairs, that is, want of Application and Rashness, or Prejudice.

II.

The natural Disposition of a Stupid Man tho' very contrary to that of a Wit, renders a Man every jot as uncapable for the ma­nagement of Affairs. If the Thoughts of the one are too dissipated, the other is too slow. One spoils all by too much Action, the other by too little; and both the one and the other want Perseverance.

The Stupid (I mean one in the most common Signification, there being several sorts of them as well as of VVits) is always timorous and cautious, dares neither un­dertake nor do any Thing; not unlike Men that travel an unfrequented Road, who are apprehensive of every Thing, because they see nothing that can remove their Fears. He prefers Ease to Business, and is incap [...] ble of any Employment, by Reason of two Defects which are natural to him, viz. In­activity and Distrust.

Yet all Things have their different Aspect, and nothing is so exactly uniform, but shews different Sides. We must therefore apply our selves to know them thoroughly, before we pretend to judge of them. Which a VVit, and one that is Stupid, either don't do at all, or else do it ill. It seems therefore to be the peculiar Talent of a Man of Judg­ment, [Page 134] who alone keeps a just Medium be­tween these two Extreams, worthily to ac­quit himself in this Affair. On the one hand Penetration improves his Strength of Reason, and on the other Moderation pre­serves to him its Liberty. Thus both re­serv'd and vigilant, he undertakes without Temerity, and goes on with Assurance. He turns Things on every Side, beholds them in every Part, and so carries along with him two essential Dispositions for the Manage­ment of Affairs, viz. Application and Judg­ment. One is the Effect of the Strength, the other of the Liberty of his Mind; which are as it were the general Perfections, from whence all the other spring, and wherein his true Merit wholly consists.

But this Character is so opposite to that [...] a VVit, that we never find them re-uni­ted in one and the same Person. To talk indifferently and superficially of all Things, is very different from diving into the bot­tom of them. To shew Subtlety and Cun­ning in Consultations, is not unravelling and resolving Affairs. The Gift of discour­sing agreeably is quite a different Talent from that of making judicious Reflections. The Natural Dispositions of the one make him uncapable of those Things which fit and prepare him for others. To make a [Page 135] Man of sprightly VVit, the Humours must be brisk and in Motion, and the Animal Spirits full of Fire and Heat. Whereas a cold Blood with a greater Portion of Phlegm, and a well regulated Course of Animal Spirits, are proper for Men of good Sense: Whose Character it is to be quick-sighted in their Deliberations, constant in their Resolutions, unshaken in their Enter­prizes, well inform'd what Party they are to take upon all Occasions, and consequent­ly more cautious in their Choice.

The others Character on the contrary, is to be short sighted in their Views, prepos­sess'd by their Designs, as Rash to resolve, as Weak to execute. How vast is the Dif­ference! One is brisk and lively, and the other thoughtful and judicious; One has a sharp agreeable Wit, the other good and solid. Which doubtless gave Occasion to a great Politician of our Times to say of these two sorts of Wit, that one was made for Pleasure, and the other for Business.

III.

To what purpose should we use Argu­ments, to prove the Truth of these Diffe­rences which Experience it self makes so evident? 'Tis but casting our Eyes upon the daily Passages in the Commerce of the [Page 136] World. How many Men are there that cannot tolerably acquit themselves in Con­versation, who very cunningly wind them­selves out of a Business? As dull and insipid as they are in Company, you will find them both sharp and successful in their En­terprizes. These Men neither delight, nor render themselves agreeable; but make a sound Judgment of Things, and become often useful and necessary. Quite contrary to flashy vain Wits, who are admir'd in Conversation; but are the worst of Men in Business; all Fire and Life to undertake, but have little Conduct to succeed.

Let us not stop here, but inquire farther into the Matter. Do we owe the wise Ma­nagement of Publick Affairs to our Men of Wit? Is it a quick Imagination, or good Sense and Judgment that supports the Weight of them? 'Tis neither a vain Sub­tlety nor a pretended Delicacy, but a sound Capacity and Solidity of Mind, which makes us value those Illustrious Men that govern States and Kingdoms. With Sub­mission to our Wits be it said, 'tis not their Destiny to be plac'd so high.

IV.

There are whole Nations born with ex­cellent Dispositions, that are as proper for [Page 137] the Government of a State, as necessary for the Ease of Men in a private Capacity. In those Nations if Men be cold and slow, they are but the more clear sighted, and the wiser for it. One would think Nature had studied to cast them in a thicker Mould, and by the Solidity of their Judgments to make them amends for the Politeness she has denied them. If their Thoughts are not fine and lively, yet they argue wisely and judiciously, they don't affect to make an Ostentation of their Parts, so much as to be silent when 'tis proper, and reflect on what is before them. They keep an equal steddy Pace, most commonly regular in their Actions, reserv'd in their Motions, and stricty united for the Publick Good which is in reality their own. Thus a pru­dent Simplicity raises them to true Great­ness.

On these solid Foundations stands the whole Body they form, whose Members are united with so much Proportion, go­vern'd with so much Justness, kept up with so much Order and Precaution, that they are scarce ever liable to those fatal Di­stempers which at last destroy the most heal­thy Kingdoms. The Genius of the Nation in general animates this Body, and makes all its Actions constant, regular, and uni­form. [Page 138] This Genius presides in their Coun­sels, supports the Weight of their Affairs, and resolutely carries on their Enterprizes to the very last.

But it must be allow'd, that if Nature has been so favourable to those Nations, she has not been entirely unkind to others; and what she has not bountifully bestow'd in General, she has however granted to some in Particular. Some Defects we are born with, proper as it were to the Country and Climate we live in, and there are others, which we contract. In the same manner, there are both Natural and Acquir'd Quali­ties. And as, absolutely speaking, Men have very few good Qualities which they may not sometimes lose; so they have very few bad ones but they may at one time or other correct.

Good Education, Civil Society, the Con­versation of the World, the Necessity of Affairs, Ripeness of Years, and above all the Use of Reason in that Age, may make great Alterations in the Mind, in any Place, or Countrey. For indeed, Reason is com­mon to all States, and Nations, and if there be Climates, or happy Temperaments bet­ter disposed to follow it than others, there are none so very Unfortunate, but with due care may surmount those Obstacles.

If some Men will not allow this, but will affirm that there are Invincible Obstacles, I will prevent their Objection by owning these two before hand, viz. Stupidity and Wit. 'Tis not without Reason that Stupi­dity may seem Invincible in some Tempers, a Stupid Man being so very slow and dull of Conception that he is incapable of all Instructions, and his Heaviness such, that it cannot be raised by any Counter bal­lance.

But if we could as easily see, without any other Reflexion, what the Defects of a Wit are, I am well assured we should find him equally incurable. If there be no Way to conquer the Heaviness of a Stupid Man, what Means can be used to fix the Levity of a Wit? Education, such as is commonly bestow'd; serves only to countenance it. Pride, the natural Source of this Defect, do's always side with Imagination against Reason, which is too weak, and too much suspected to be regarded. The advantage of good Sense is neither perceived nor ac­knowledged. A Man of Wit is prepossess'd by his Talents and pretended good Parts, what then can we expect from him, if he be still Stubborn and Intractable? And how can he be otherwise? Nay, I will make it appear, that this Defect is so much the [Page 140] more peculiar to a Wit, as it is the effect of Presumption, which is so natural to him.

V.

'Tis a receiv'd Maxim among Politicians, th [...] Strength without Counsel destroys it self, and that readiness to follow other Mens Advice, is a Quality no less commen­dable, than Ability in giving good Counsel. And indeed where is the Genius, how sa­gacious soever he be, who so orders his Steps in the Affairs he manages; as not to run of­ten the hazard of mistaking himself, for want of asking the right Way, or taking a good Guide?

If any Man runs this hazard, 'tis chiefly your Witty Persons. For I see no Men less capable of giving good Advice, and none less disposed to take it. A famous Politician furnishes me with a Reason for it; He that is not Wise of himself, says he, cannot be well ad­vised; because he will neither regard, nor obey, and cannot follow the Precepts whi [...] are given him; which is exactly the Case of a Wit.

The great Opinion he has of his own pretended Judgment and Knowledge, makes him scorn and despise the Sentiments of others, and interpret it a Weakness to sub­mit to them. He that takes Advice depends [Page 141] in some measure on him that gives it; but a Wit, who is animated and puft up by Pride, affects an Independency in all things. He looks on the Counsel which is given him, to be a kind of Tyranny exercised over the Liberty of his Thoughts; and fears not [...]ing so much as to be suspected of suffering himself to be guided by others.

With all his Presumption, and that all-sufficient Air he assumes, he is as forward to reprove others, as unfit to be reprov'd. He talks with Confidence, decides with Authority, promises good Success, and threatens bad, but will not allow Reason to examine the Causes. Thus taking upon him indiscreetly to force other Mens Minds, all his Designs at last prove ineffectual.

Men love to do all things to their own Mind and Fancy. Therefore 'tis a great Art to know how to give them good Ad­vice, and make 'em relish it, which few Men are capable of. If we seriously reflect upon it, the Number of those who do not err, is gr [...]ter than of those who know how to correct those that err.

VI.

Amongst the other Imbecillities of a Wit, one of the most considerable is, his Presump­tion of doing all Things by Force. A [Page 142] quick and confus'd Sentiment, which hot boyling Blood, and sharp and agitated Ani­mal Spirits inspire, make [...]im foolishly pre­sume that nothing escapes his Understand­ing. If he finds himself at a stand, he fan­cies, 'tis because none can go further; if he mistakes, 'tis because any Man else would have mistaken as well as himself; and ta­king the Strength and Extent of Imaginati­on, for the Strength and Extent of the Mind, he allows all to Opinion, which se­duces and leads him astray. That's the Rock against which he splits, Opinion is the Rock of your Men of Wit.

'Tis that false Light which is the Cause of all their Errors in Sciences, and of their bad Conduct in Affairs. From thence come so many unusual and extraordinary Coun­sels, ill contrived Enterprises, false Steps, vain Projects, and in the conclusion of all ill Success. For 'tis an Error to suppose that with little Penetration we can under­take many and great Things, and follow therein our Opinions, with lit [...] or no In­sight. Neither should we imagine, that this Penetration and Insight is so natural to the Mind, that we need only let it act to compass our Aim. The Mind in one Sense grows weak and feeble, as well as the Body; both stand in need of Nourishment, and to [Page 143] be provided, either wherewith to support their Strength, or to acquire new when in want of it. Our Mind do's extend or con­tract, as we extend or contract it. And, as nothing gives it a greater Extent, than the good use we make of its Liberty and Judgment; so there is nothing that confines us more, than Infatuation, Rashness, and Prejudice. This naturally leads us to Inap­plication, and Inapplication feeds our Pre­judice. Both concur and assist each other, to spoil and corrupt the Mind. Inapplica­tion makes us judge superficially of all Things, and decide as carelesly. Opinion is the occasion we never apply our selves to any Thing, for it seems to spare us that Trouble. We are not therefore to wonder, that the least attentive, and most infatuated Minds, are always the weakest.

VII.

If Opinion be so dangerous a Distemper, ought we not then to have a due esteem for the Li [...]erty of the Mind, which is a Cure for it? And what can we think of such as are deprived of it? If a Wit wants strength of Reason, because his Thoughts are diffused, he has the more Occasion for Liberty and Judgment, because he is too apt to fall into Precipitation.

This Defect, which is one of the most considerable, in relation to Affairs, does not only derive its Origin from the evil Qualities of the Mind, but also from the corrupt Dispositions of the Heart. So that if we should allow a Wit to have some Pe­netration and Judgment (which he often wants only for want of Attention) that would not be sufficient; for the Heart often spoils what the Mind judiciously designs.

There arise sometimes from the Heart, certain Passions which like a thick Vapour darken the clearest and purest Understand­ings; and we find certain Motions there, which strongly oppose the most regular proceedings of the Mind. Which makes it easie to conceive, that as the Mind, led by the false Lights of an irregular Imagination, often makes us err and go astray; so the Heart, curbed and domineered by a foolish Passion, do's no less contribute to lead us out of the right Way.

The Mind has its Falsities and Illusions, and the Heart its Passions and I [...]becillities; and, as they are our two Guides in all our Actions, it follows that a good and uncor­rupted Heart is of as great a Consequence and as necessary for us, as a sound and un­disturb'd Mind.

I shall not here insist upon what is so evi­dent [Page 145] to all the World. The horrble Disor­ders the Corruption of Mens Hearts, and the Exorbitancy of their Passions, occasion in Governments, are too well known to be denied. I shall only remark what is to my Subject, viz. what Genius's are, by their proper Character, more or less free from those Irregularities.

VIII.

There is so great a Conformity between the Disposition of the Mind, and that of the Heart, that for the most part they seem to me to follow each other. A false Mind is commonly attended with a vicious Heart. If that yields to Imagination, Passion soon gets the Victory over this; and they never fail to communicate reciprocally to each other their good or evil Impressions. From whence I conclude, that the quicker the Imagination is, the stronger the Passions are, and Reason the weaker; and that on the contrary the Passions are never so calm and the Mi [...] so free, as when the Imagina­tion is most subject to it, and in a good Temper.

This being once granted, what sort of Men must we allow to injoy the greatest Liberty of Mind; either those who by their natural Vanity abandon themselves to [Page 146] the flights of their Imagination, and so are Slaves to their Passions; or those that by their Moderation suppress the Impetuosity of 'em by keeping their Imagination un­der? Which of the two are most likely to be mistaken in their Judgment upon such publick or private Concerns as they are in­trusted with? All the World agrees, that the effects of Passions and Imagination are al­ways Enemies to Reason and good Sense. We must therefore allow that our gay sparkling Wits, whose Passions are undoubt­edly more animated than the others, are less capable of the wise management of Affairs, which is the effect of Prudence and good Sense only.

The Passions, as another very judicious Author▪ has remarked, are not only excited by the Objects, but likewise by the Opini­ons we are prepossessed with. The truth is, what we call our Blessings, or our Afflicti­ons, is for the most part only such as we imagine it; which is the Reason why a Man thinks himself very un [...]appy, with that which wou'd make the Happiness of another. 'Tis Imagination for the most part which gives a form to Things, that diminishes, or augments, that lessens, or sets a value on them; and the most frequent Motions of the Passions are only the conse­quences [Page 147] of a sensible Application of the Soul to those Impressions and Figures which are made in the Brain. Those Men therefore who have their Brain fullest of these Images, must be most taken up with them; and by a necessary consequence most moved and concerned. Their Passion is their Reason, and Imagination their Guide. So that their Minds are surround­ed with Clouds and Darkness, which de­prive them of the Liberty of their Judg­ments.

IX.

We must needs have a better Opinion of another sort of Men, whom a less nice and delicate Constitution of the Brain, and ani­mal Spirits less quick and less in motion, make colder and more reserved. As their Imagination is less heated, consequently their Hearts ought to be less agitated, and their Minds freer.

The Violence of the Passions is every where felt▪ but they do not domineer in all Persons with the same Power. A nice flashy Wit may be carry'd away by the Strength of Passion, against which one of a reserved solid Judgment would make an easie Resistance: Who not being so sensibly touched by the Impression of the Objects, [Page 148] and less subject to the Surprises of Imagi­nation, (two infallible Causes of the Emo­tion of the Soul) must needs both enjoy a greater Tranquility and be capable of better reasoning.

I speak of Passions, as I have done of Imagination, and blame the Excess only. We should regulate but not destroy them; for a Man without Passions is a meer Chi­mera. Imagination has its Use, and Graces; the Passions in the same manner have their Use and Advantages. But like the best Things, they become dangerous by the ill application we make of them. They trou­ble, transport, and corrupt the Heart; they blind, disorder, and debauch the Mind a thousand ways; but 'tis only because we give 'em too much scope; for a Man who is not intirely Master of himself, suffers them to pass those Bounds which Nature has prescribed to them.

The Passions ought not to govern, and give Laws to Man ('tis that which makes 'em odious) but they ought to receive their Orders from Reason, and execute them, which often makes them necessary.

There is as much Action and Motion re­quired for the Execution of an Enterprise, as Leisure and Prudence for the Deliberati­on. The Heart and the Mind share equal­ly [Page 149] in the Glory of our noblest Actions. The Mind begins and conceives them, by its Understanding; the Heart prosecutes and finishes them, by its Motion. The Mind has the Credit of the Design, and the Heart that of the Success.

Success, says Seneca, is not under the Ju­risdiction of the Wise. We undertake and Fortune gives Success. But Fortune loves Action and Motion; and this we pl [...]ly see in Young People, whom it fa­vours more than others, by reason of their Briskness and Vivacity, and because they have more Confidence than Wisdom. 'Tis therefore in some measure necessary that the Heart, and Passions should be concern'd; for we can do very little without them, how excellent soever our Genius is, and sometimes all we do proceeds from them. Which perhaps made a great Politian say, that one had better be Impetuous, than Cir­cumspect. But he tells us withal, that it is not always the surest Way; for, says he, For­tune is inconstant, and often abandons the Man whom she seems most to favour, tho' never so bold and active. The Reason he gives for it is excellent; Fortune changes according to the Times, but the Man does not alter his Measures. We must therefore keep a just Medium, joyn the wise proceed­ings [Page 150] of the Mind with the motions of the Soul, and follow his Opinion, who to suc­ceed in his Undertakings, neither required Merit, nor extraordinary Fortune, but only a happy Dexterity.

X.

I applaud the Passions in those they only agitate, but I blame them in those they disorder. And because they may be more or less moderated, according t [...] [...]he Dispositions of those they animate, we need not fear to own, that certain cold and re­served Men (I mean cold without being weak, reserv'd without being heavy) may make a good Use of them, moderate their Violence, withstand their Efforts, and so preserve their Liberty and Judgment, which are the chief ingredients to qualifie a Man for the management of Affairs.

'Tis the Unhappiness of Mankind, says a certain Polititian, that it is hard to avoid one Inconvenience without falling into another. From whence he concludes, that Prudence requires we should know the nature of Inconveniencies, and always chuse the least. But how can we know them, if the Mind is not enough at liberty to discover them?

I cannot set off the excellency of this ad­mirable Quality, I mean the Liberty of the Mind, any way so well as by remarking that all Kingdoms have their particular Laws, all Arts their Rules, and all Sciences their Principles, to which all that depend on them is brought together as to its Cen­ter. But Politicks is the only Science that has nothing constant in its Maxims, no­thing uniform in its Rules, nor well grounded in its Principles. As it wholly depends on the difference of Times and Conjunctures, it contradicts it self in its Principles, as often as the face of Affairs changes. So that its best Foundation is the Prudence and Ability of those that cultivate it; who governing themselves not so much by its Maxims, as by the change of Times, and present circumstances of Things, make use of Rules suitable to Affairs, rather than manage Affairs accord­ing to Rule.

Experience authorizes this Conduct, and we often find that two Persons have the same Success with different Methods, and two others use the same Method for the very same Thing with a quite contary Suc­cess. Of two that go the same Way, and steer the same Course, one shall come home safe, and the other not; which happens [Page 152] from the diversity of Times, and Conjun­ctures. Therefore a wise and discreet Man suits his Conduct to Times and Affairs; ac­cording to the Saying of Tacitus, Morem ac­commodari, prout conducat.

'Tis observable, that no Writings are more expos'd to Censure, than those of Po­lititians, because none so ill grounded. But the Man that will the most severely censure 'em, must expect to meet with other Cri­ticks who will condemn his Censure, so ar­bitrary are their Decisions. And tho' with regard only to the Principles of Polititians, we should own more Solidity in them than others, yet if afterwards we descend from generals to particulars, the numerous Dif­ficulties of the practical Part will but too well prove the Insufficiency of their Rules. Nothing but a solid extensive Judgment can conquer these Difficulties; As for Wit and Delicacy of Fancy, they signifie little or nothing.

What I say of Politicks in general, which concerns Kingdoms and Republicks, is to be apply'd to Politicks in particular, which concerns all Mankind; for every Man has one of his own making, as well as his In­terest. If we do but observe it, we shall always find more than one way to com­pass our Ends, nor is there any general [Page 153] Rule for chusing which we ought to take. Reason alone, if we will consult it, can put us into the best Method.

XI.

Should I attempt here to descend into the particulars of all Mens Actions, and more especially the Proceedings of our Wits, to shew the Vanity of their Designs, and Irre­gularity of their Conduct in their Manage­ment of Affairs, I should soon confound my self with such abundance of Matter as would carry me farther than I purpose to go. I shall therefore content my self, before I make an end, to observe but one of those Ways our Men of VVit for the most part take to raise themselves in the World, which is to get themselves as near as they can to great Men and Princes.

I know that all the World sacrifices to Fortune, and that every one endeavours to make himself Happy. And as some place their Happiness in one Thing, others in ano­ther, according to the different Turn their Imagination gives to the Ideas they have of the Objects of their Passion, so it happens that Men take as many different Ways, as they Imagine Means to make themselves Happy. All Men do not take the same Me­thods, but every one takes what he thinks [Page 154] most proper for his Design, The most odd and Fantastical, in my Opinion, is that which Presumption suggests to some Men, I mean to make themselv [...] known in the Courts of Princes, and boldly pass among the great Men for extraordinary Persons. As they vainly flatter themselves that their not being known, is the only Reason why they are not distinguish'd, they think of nothing but shewing themselves, and fool­ishly believe that this is all they have to do. The ordinary Ways by which every one ought to seek an Establishment most suitable for himself according to his Birth, and na­tural or acquir'd Qualities, for the Good of the Government he lives under, or his own proper Affairs, are absolutely unknown to our Men of VVit, who believing them­selves to be extraordinary Men, think they must take extraordinary Methods; and are so vain upon their pretended Merit as to flatter themselves, that a Prince will break his usual Rules to raise and distinguish them from the Crowd.

There is scarce a VVit but thinks himself worthy of being a Prince's Favourite, and the principal Object of his Countenance. On this Foundation, his Pride makes him pretend to every Thing Honours, Favour, Recompences, all is due to him. A few [Page 155] gingling Verses, an insignificant Book, an Oration either written or pronounced, a pompous Epistle at the Head of a wretched Translation, are so many Pieces which in his Opinion ought to speak highly in his Favour, and give him a just Title to Re­wards, which are due only to true Merit.

But in short, if he is dissatisfied with his Fortune, and his Hopes prove vain, he ne­ver fails of blaming the King and his Mini­sters for all the Disgrace and Trouble which his own ambitious Negligence, and Foolish Confidence have brought upon him. In that he supports very well his Character; for 'tis by the same Spirit of Presumption only that he applauds himself in secret for his pretended Qualifications, and murmurs at his Disgraces. Thus wanting both Strength and Liberty of Mind, infatuated and stubborn, and as useless to himself as he is to others, there is no Man more incapa­ble of Business.

XII.

'Tis now time to put an end to this Work, which has insensibly increas'd under my Hand much more than I expected, tho' I have endeavour'd to say nothing but what was absolutely necessary, to accomplish my Design. I was willing to show the World [Page] what an Opinion we ought to have of those we call VVits, and those we call Stupid; two Charactars which I have considered as two Extreams, equally distant from that just Medium, where I thought my self oblig'd to place Good and Solid Judgment. I have not passed my Censure upon them without a due Examination; I have pursued them in all the Places they most affect to appear; but above all the Man of VVit, whom I have the most narrowly observed, because the most artificial and the most to be feared. I have made it appear how Insi­pid he is in his Conversation, how Vain and Superficial in his Writings, how Rash and Imprudent in Affairs. I need say no more, to prove that the Judgment is only estima­ble; and that VVit is false and deceitful in every respect.