CHAP. I.
Of the Parentage and Family of Scrible⯑rus, how he was begot, what Care was taken of him before he was born, and what Prodigies attended his Birth.

IN the City of Munſter in Germany, lived a grave and learned Gentle⯑man, by Profeſſion an Antiquary; who among all his invaluable Curioſities, eſteemed none more highly, than a Skin of the true Pergamenian Parchment, which hung at the upper-end of his hall. On this was curiouſly traced the ancient Pedigree of the Scribleri, with all their Alliances and collateral Relati⯑ons [2] (among which were reckon'd Alber⯑tus Magnus, Paracelſus Bombaſtus, and the famous Scaligers in old time Princes of Verona) and deduced even from the Times of the Elder Pliny to Cornelius Scriblerus: For ſuch was the name of this venerable Perſonage; whoſe glory it was, that by the ſingular Virtue of the Women, not one had a Head of a different Caſt from his family.

His wife was a Lady of ſingular beauty, whom not for that reaſon only he eſpouſed, but becauſe ſhe was un⯑doubted daughter either of the great Scriverius, or of Gaſpar Barthius. It happen'd on a time, the ſaid Gaſpar made a viſit to Scriverius at Harlem, taking with him a comely Lady of his acquaintance who was ſkilful in the Greek Tongue, of whom the learned Scriverius became ſo enamour'd, as to inebriate his friend, and be familiar with his Miſtreſs. I am not ignorant of what ^*Columeſius affirms, that the [3] learned Barthius was not ſo overtaken but he perceiv'd it; and in Revenge ſuffer'd this unfortunate Gentlewoman to be drowned in the Rhine at her re⯑turn. But Mrs. Scriblerus (the iſſue of that Amour) was a living proof of the falſehood of this Report. Dr. Cor⯑nelius was further induced to his mar⯑riage, from the certain information that the aforeſaid Lady, the mother of his wife, was related to Cardan on the fa⯑ther's ſide, and to Aldrovandus on the mother's: Beſides which, her Anceſ⯑tors had been profeſſors of Phyſick, Aſtrology, or Chymiſtry, in German Univerſities, from generation to gene⯑ration.

With this fair Gentlewoman had our Doctor lived in a comfortable Union for about ten years: But this our ſober and orderly pair, without any natural infirmity, and with a conſtant and fre⯑quent compliance to the chief duty of conjugal life, were yet unhappy, in that Heaven had not bleſſed them with any iſſue. This was the utmoſt grief to the good man; eſpecially conſidering [4] what exact Precautions and Methods he had uſed to procure that Bleſſing: for he never had cohabitation with his ſpouſe, but he ponder'd on the Rules of the Ancients, for the generation of Children of Wit. He ordered his diet according to the preſcription of Galen, confining himſelf and his wife for al⯑moſt the whole firſt year to ^†Goat's Milk and Honey. It unfortunately befel her, when ſhe was about four months gone with child, to long for ſomewhat which that author inveighs againſt, as prejudicial to the underſtand⯑ing of the Infant: This her huſband thought fit to deny her, affirming, it was better to be childleſs, than to be⯑come the Parent of a Fool. His Wife miſcarried; but as the Abortion proved only a female Faetus, he comforted himſelf, that had it arrived to perfecti⯑on, it would not have anſwer'd his ac⯑count; his heart being wholly fixed upon the learned Sex. However he [5] diſdained not to treaſure up the Em⯑bryo in a Vial, among the curioſities of his family.

Having diſcovered that Galen's pre⯑ſcription could not determine the ſex, he forthwith betook himſelf to Ari⯑ſtotle. Accordingly he with-held the nuptial embrace when the wind was in any point of the South; this ^‖ Au⯑thor aſſerting that the groſſneſs and moiſture of the ſoutherly winds occaſi⯑on the procreation of females, and not of males. But he redoubled his dili⯑gence when the wind was at Weſt, a wind on which that great Philoſopher beſtowed the Encomiums of Fatner of the earth, Breath of the Elyſian Fields, and other glorious Elogies. For our learned man was clearly of opinion, that the Semina out of which Animals are produced, are Animalcula ready form⯑ed, and received in with the Air.^†

Under theſe regulations, his wife, to his unexpreſſible joy, grew pregnant a [6] ſecond time; and, (what was no ſmall addition to his happineſs) he juſt then came to the poſſeſſion of a conſiderable Eſtate by the death of her Uncle, a wealthy Jew who reſided at London. This made it neceſſary for him to take a journey to England; nor would the care of his poſterity let him ſuffer his Wife to remain behind him. During the voyage, he was perpetually taken up on the one hand, how to employ his great Riches; and on the other, how to educate his Child. He had already determin'd to ſet apart ſeveral annual Sums, for the recovery of Manuſcripts, the effoſſon of Coins, the procuring of Mummies; and for all thoſe curious diſ⯑coveries by which he hoped to become (as himſelf was wont to ſay) a ſecond Peireſkius. He had already chalked out all poſſible ſchemes for the improve⯑ment of a male child, yet was ſo far prepar'd for the worſt that could hap⯑pen, that before the nine months were expired, he had compoſed two Trea⯑tiſes of Education; the one he called [7] A Daughter's Mirrour, and the other A Son's Monitor.

This is all we can find relating to Martinus, while he was in his Mother's womb, excepting that he was enter⯑tained there with a Conſort of Muſick once in twenty four hours, according to the Cuſtom of the Magi: and that on a ^‖ particular day, he was obſerved to leap and kick exceedingly, which was on the firſt of April, the birth-day of the great Baſilius Valentinus.

The Truth of this, and every pre⯑ceding Fact, may be depended upon, being taken literally from the Memoirs. But I muſt be ſo ingenuous as to own, that the Accounts are not ſo certain of the exact time and place of his birth. As to the firſt, he had the common frailty of old men, to conceal his age: as to the ſecond, I only remember to have heard him ſay, that he firſt ſaw the light in St. Giles's Pariſh. But in the inveſtigation of this point, Fortune hath favoured our diligence. For one [8] day as I was paſſing by the Seven Dials, I overheard a diſpute concerning the place of Nativity of a great Aſtrologer, which each man alledged to have been in his own ſtreet. The circumſtances of the time, and the deſcription of the perſon, made me imagine it might be that univerſal Genius whoſe life I am writing. I returned home, and having maturely conſidered their ſeveral argu⯑ments, which I found to be of equal weight, I quieted my curioſity with this natural concluſion, that he was born in ſome point common to all the ſeven ſtreets; which muſt be that on which the Column is now erected. And it is with infinite pleaſure that I ſince find my Conjecture confirmed, by the fol⯑lowing paſſage in the Codicil to Mr. Neale's Will.

‘I appoint my Executors to engrave the following Inſcription on the Column in the Center of the ſeven Streets which I erec⯑ted. ‘LOC. NAT. INCLUT. PHI⯑LOS. MAR. SCR.’’ [9] But Mr. Neale's Order was never per⯑formed, becauſe the Executors durſt not adminiſter.

Nor was the Birth of this great man unattended with Prodigies: He him⯑ſelf has often told me, that on the night before he was born, Mrs. Scriblerus dream'd ſhe was brought to bed of a huge Ink-horn, out of which iſſued ſeveral large ſtreams of Ink, as it had been a fountain. This dream was by her huſband thought to ſignify, that the child ſhould prove a very voluminous Writer. Likewiſe a ^* Crab-tree that had been hitherto barren, appeared on a ſudden laden with a vaſt quantity of Crabs: This ſign alſo the old gentle⯑man imagined to be a prognoſtic of the acuteneſs of his Wit. A great ſwarm of ^† Waſps play'd round his Cradle without hurting him, but were very troubleſome to all in the room beſides: This ſeemed a certain preſage of the ef⯑fects of his Satire. A Dunghill was [10] ſeen within the ſpace of one night to be covered all over with Muſhroom: This ſome interpreted to promiſe the infant great fertility of fancy, but no long duration to his works: but the Father was of another opinion.

But what was of all moſt wonderful, was a thing that ſeemed a monſtrous Fowl, which juſt then dropt through the ſky-light, near his wife's apartment. It had a large body, two little diſpro⯑portioned wings, a prodigious tail, but no head. As its colour was white, he took it at firſt ſight for a Swan, and was concluding his ſon would be a Poet: but on a nearer view, he pre⯑ceived it to be ſpeckled with black, in the form of letters; and that it was in⯑deed a Paper kite which had broke its leaſh by the impetuoſity of the wind. His back was armed with the Art Military, his belly was filled with Phy⯑ſick, his wings were the wings of Quarles and Withers, the ſeveral Nodes of his voluminous tail were diverſify'd with ſeveral branches of Science; where the Doctor beheld with great joy a knot of [11] Logick, a knot of Metaphyſick, a knot of Caſuiſtry, a knot of Polemical Divi⯑nity, and a knot of Common Law, with a Lanthorn of Jacob Behmen.

There went a Report in the family, that as ſoon as he was born he uttered the voice of nine ſeveral animals: he cry'd like a Calf, bleated like a Sheep, chattered like a Mag-pye, grunted like a Hog, neighed like a Foal, croaked like a Raven, mewed like a Cat, gab⯑bled like a Gooſe, and bray'd like an Aſs. And the next morning he was found playing in his bed with two Owls, which came down the chimney. His Father greatly rejoyced at all theſe ſigns, which betokened the variety of his Eloquence, and the extent of his Learning; but he was more particu⯑larly pleaſed with the laſt, as it nearly reſembled what happen'd at the birth of ^*Homer.

CHAP. II.
The Speech of Cornelius over his Son, at the Hour of his Birth.

NO ſooner was the cry of the In⯑fant heard, but the old gentle⯑man ruſhed into the Room, and ſnatch⯑ing it in his arms, examin'd every limb with attention. He was infinitely pleas'd to find, that the Child had the Wart of Cicero, the wry Neck of Alex⯑ander, knots upon his legs like Marius, and one of them ſhorter than the other like Ageſilaus. The good Cornelius alſo hoped he would come to ſtammer like Demoſthenes, in order to be as elo⯑quent; and in time arrive at many o⯑ther Defects of famous men. He held the child ſo long, that the Midwife grown out of all patience, ſnatch'd it from his arms, in order to ſwaddle it. ‘' Swaddle him? (quoth he) far be it from me to ſubmit to ſuch a perni⯑cious Cuſtom! Is not my ſon a Man? [13] and is not Man the Lord of the Uni⯑verſe? Is it thus you uſe this Mo⯑narch at his firſt arrival in his domini⯑ons, to manacle and ſhackle him hand and foot? Is this what you call to be free-born? If you have no regard to his natural Liberty, at leaſt have ſome to his natural Faculties. Behold with what agility he ſpreadeth his Toes, and moveth them with as great variety as his Fingers! a power, which in the ſmall circle of a year may be totally aboliſh'd, by the e⯑normous confinement of ſhoes and ſtockings. His Ears (which other animals turn with great advantage to⯑wards the ſonorous object) may, by the miniſtry of ſome accurſed Nurſe, for ever lye flat and immoveable. Not ſo the Ancients, they could move them at pleaſure, and accordingly are often deſcrib'd arrectis auribus."’ ‘' What a devil (quoth the Midwife) would you have your ſon move his Ears like a Drill?"’ ‘' Yes fool (ſaid he) why ſhould he not have the per⯑fection of a Drill, or of any other [14] animal?"’ Mrs. Scriblerus, who lay all this while fretting at her huſband's diſcourſe, at laſt broke out to this pur⯑poſe. ‘' My dear, I have had many diſ⯑putes with you upon this ſubject be⯑fore I was a month gone: We have but one child, and can not afford to throw him away upon experiments. I'll have my boy bred up like other gentlemen, at home, and always un⯑der my own eye."’ All the Goſſips with one voice, cry'd, Ay, ay; but Cornelius broke out in this manner. ‘' What, bred at home? Have I taken all this pains for a creature that is to lead the inglorious life of a Cabbage, to ſuck the nutritious juices from the ſpot where he was firſt planted? No; to perambulate this terraqueous Globe is too ſmall a Range; were it per⯑mitted, he ſhould at leaſt make the Tour of the whole Syſtem of the Sun. Let other Mortals pore upon Maps, and ſwallow the legends of lying tra⯑vellers; the ſon of Cornelius ſhall make his own Legs his Compaſſes; with thoſe he ſhall meaſure Conti⯑nents, [15] Iſlands, Capes, Bays, Streights, and Iſthmus's: He ſhall himſelf take the altitude of the higheſt moun⯑tains, from the piek of Derby to the piek of Tenariff; when he has viſi⯑ted the top of Taurus, Imaus, Cau⯑caſus, and the famous Ararat where Noah's Ark firſt moor'd, he may take a flight view of the ſnowy Riphaeans; nor would I have him neglect Athos and Olympus, renowned for poetical fictions. Thoſe that vomit fire will deſerve a more particular attention: I will therefore have him obſerve with great care Veſuvius, Aetna, the burning mountain of Java, but chiefly Hecla the greateſt rarity in the Nor⯑thern Regions. Then he may like⯑wiſe contemplate the wonders of the Mephitick cave. When he has div'd into the bowels of the earth, and ſur⯑vey'd the works of Nature under ground, and inſtructed himſelf fully in the nature of Vulcanos, Earth⯑quakes, Thunders, Tempeſts and Hurricanes, I hope he will bleſs the world with a more exact ſurvey of [16] the deſerts of Arabia and Tartary, than as yet we are able to obtain: Then will I have him croſs the ſeven Gulphs, meaſure the currents in the fifteen famous Streights, and ſearch for thoſe fountains of freſh water that are at the bottom of the Ocean."’—At theſe laſt words Mrs. Scriblerus fell into a trembling: the deſcription of this terrible Scene made too violent an impreſſion upon a woman in her con⯑dition, and threw her into a ſtrong hyſ⯑teric Fit; which might have prov'd dangerous, if Cornelius had not been puſh'd out of the room by the united force of the women.

CHAP. III.
Shewing what befel the Doctor's Son and his Shield, on the Day of the Chriſt'ning.

THE day of the Chriſt'ning be⯑ing come, and the houſe filled with Goſſips, the Levity of whoſe Con⯑verſation [17] ſuited but ill with the Gra⯑vity of Dr. Cornelius, he caſt about how to paſs this day more agreeably to his Character; that is to ſay, not without ſome Profitable Conference, nor wholly without obſervance of ſome Ancient Cuſtom.

He remembred to have read in The⯑ocritus, that the Cradle of Hercules was a Shield; and being poſſeſs'd of an an⯑tique Buckler which he held as a moſt ineſtimable Relick, he determined to have the infant laid therein, and in that manner brought into the Study, to be ſhown to certain learned men of his acquaintance.

The regard he had for this Shield, had cauſed him formerly to compile a Diſſertation concerning it, proving from the ſeveral properties, and parti⯑cularly the colour of the Ruſt, the ex⯑act chronology thereof.

With this Treatiſe, and a moderate ſupper, he propoſed to entertain his Gueſts; tho' he had alſo another de⯑ſign, to have their aſſiſtance in the cal⯑culation of his Son's Nativity.

[18] He therefore took the Buckler out of a Caſe (in which he always kept it leaſt it might contract any modern ruſt), and entruſted it to his Houſe⯑maid, with orders, that when the com⯑pany was come ſhe ſhould lay the Child carefully in it, cover'd with a mantle of blue Sattin.

The Gueſts were no ſooner ſeated, but they entered into a warm Debate about the Triclinium and the manner of Decubitus of the Ancients, which Cornelius broke off in this manner.

This day, my Friends, I purpoſe to ex⯑hibit my ſon before you; a Child not wholly unworthy of Inſpection, as he is deſcended from a Race of Virtuoſi. Let the Phiſiognomiſts examine his features; let the Chirographiſts behold his Palm; but above all let us conſult for the cal⯑culation of his Nativity. To this end, as the child is not vulgar, I will not pre⯑ſent him unto you in a vulgar manner. He ſhall be cradled in my Ancient Shield, ſo famous through the Univerſities of Europe. You all know how I purchas'd that invaluable piece of Antiquity at the [19] great (though indeed inadequate) expence of all the Plate of our family, how hap⯑pily I carry'd it off, and how trium⯑phantly I tranſported it hither, to the inexpreſſible grief of all Germany. Hap⯑py in every circumſtance, but that it broke the heart of the great Melchior Inſipi⯑dus!

Here he ſtopp'd his Speech, upon ſight of the Maid, who enter'd the room with the Child: He took it in his arms and proceeded:

Behold then my Child, but firſt behold the Shield: Behold this Ruſt,—or rather let me call it this precious Aerugo,—behold this beautiful Varniſh of Time,—this venerable Verdure of ſo many Ages—

In ſpeaking theſe words, he ſlowly lifted up the Mantle, which cover'd it, inch by inch; but at every inch he un⯑covered, his cheeks grew paler, his hand trembled, his nerves failed, till on ſight of the whole the Tremor became uni⯑verſal: The Shield and the Infant both dropt to the ground, and he had only [20] ſtrength enough to cry out, O God! my Shield, my Shield!

The Truth was, the Maid (extream⯑ly concern'd for the reputation of her own cleanlineſs, and her young maſter's honour) had ſcoured it as clean as her Andirons.

Cornelius ſunk back on a chair, the Gueſts ſtood aſtoniſhed, the infant ſquawl'd, the maid ran in, ſnatch'd it up again in her arms, flew into her miſ⯑treſſes room, and told what had hap⯑pen'd. Down ſtairs in an inſtant hur⯑ried all the Goſſips, where they found the Doctor in a Trance: Hungary wa⯑ter, Hartſhorn, and the confus'd noiſe of ſhrill voices, at length awaken'd him: when opening his eyes, he ſaw the Shield in the hands of the Houſe⯑maid. O Woman! Woman! he cry'd (and ſnatch'd it violently from her) was it to thy ignorance that this Relick owes its ruin? where, where is the beautiful Cruſt that cover'd thee ſo long? where thoſe Traces of Time, and Fingers as it were of Antiquity? Where all thoſe beau⯑tiful obſcurities, the cauſe of much de⯑lightful [21] diſputation, where doubt and curioſity went hand in hand and eternal⯑ly exerciſed the ſpeculations of the learn⯑ed? All this the rude Touch of an igno⯑rant woman hath done away! The curi⯑ous Prominence at the belly of that figure, which ſome taking for the Cuſ⯑pis of a ſword, denominated a Roman Soldier; others accounting the Inſignia Virilia, pronounc'd to be one of the Dii Termini; behold ſhe hath cleaned it in like ſhameful ſort, and ſhown to be the head of a Nail. O my Shield! my Shield! well may I ſay with Horace, non bene relicta Parmula.

The Goſſips, not at all inquiring in⯑to the cauſe of his ſorrow, only aſked if the Child had no hurt? and cry'd, Come, come, all is well; what has the woman done but her duty? a tight clean⯑ly wench I warrant her; what a ſtir a man makes about a Baſon, that an hour ago, before this labour was beſtowed up⯑on it, a Country Barber would not have hung at his ſhop door. A Baſon! (cry'd another) no ſuch matter, 'tis nothing but a paultry old Sconce, with the nozzle [22] broke off. The learned Gentlemen, who till now had ſtood ſpeechleſs, here⯑upon looking narrowly on the Shield, declar'd their Aſſent to this latter opi⯑nion; and deſir'd Cornelius to be com⯑forted, aſſuring him it was a Sconce and no other. But this, inſtead of com⯑forting, threw the Doctor into ſuch a violent Fit of paſſion, that he was car⯑ried off groaning and ſpeechleſs to bed; where, being quite ſpent, he fell into a kind of ſlumber.

CHAP. IV.
Of the Suction and Nutrition of the Great Scriblerus in his Infancy, and of the firſt Rudiments of his Learn⯑ing.

AS ſoon as Cornelius awaked, he rais'd himſelf on his elbow, and caſting his eye on Mrs. Scriblerus, ſpoke as follows. Wiſely was it ſaid by Homer, that in the Cellar of Jupiter are two barrels, the one of good, the other [23] of evil, which he never beſtows on mortals ſeparately, but conſtantly mingles them together. Thus at the ſame time hath Heav'n bleſs'd me with the birth of a Son, and afflicted me with the ſcouring of my Shield. Yet let us not repine at his Diſpenſations, who gives and who takes away; but rather join in prayer, that the Ruſt of Antiquity which he hath been pleas'd to take from my Shield, may be added to my Son; and that ſo much of it as it is my purpoſe he ſhall contract in his Education, may never be deſtroy'd by any Modern Poliſhing.

He cou'd no longer bear the ſight of the Shield, but order'd it ſhould be remov'd for ever from his eyes. It was not long after purchas'd by Dr. Woodward, who, by the aſſiſtance of Mr. Kemp incruſted it with a new Ruſt, and is the ſame whereof a Cut hath been engraved, and exhibited to the great Contentation of the learned.

Cornelius now began to regulate the Suction of his Child. Seldom did there paſs a day without diſputes between him and the Mother, or the Nurſe, [24] concerning the nature of Aliment. The poor woman never dined but he denied her ſome diſh or other, which he judg'd prejudicial to her milk. One day ſhe had a longing deſire to a piece of beef, and as ſhe ſtretch'd her hand towards it, the old gentleman drew it away, and ſpoke to this effect. Had'ſt thou read the Ancients, O Nurſe, thou would'ſt prefer the welfare of the Infant which thou nouriſheſt, to the indulging of an irregular and voracious Appetite. Beef, it is true, may confer a Robuſtneſs on the limbs of my ſon, but will hebetate and clogg his Intellectuals. While he ſpoke this, the Nurſe look'd upon him with much anger, and now and then caſt a wiſhful eye upon the Beef—Paſſion (continu'd the Doctor, ſtill hold⯑ing the diſh) throws the mind into too violent a fermentation; it is a kind of Fever of the ſoul, or, as Horace expreſſes it, a Short Madneſs. Conſider Woman, that this day's Suction of my ſon may cauſe him to imbibe many ungovernable Paſſions, and in a manner ſpoil him for the temper of a Philoſopher. Romulus [25] by ſucking a Wolf, became of a fierce and ſavage diſpoſition; and were I to breed ſome Ottoman Emperor or Founder of a Military Commonwealth, perhaps I might indulge thee in this carnivorous Appetite.—What, interrupted the Nurſe, Beef ſpoil the underſtanding? that's fine in⯑deed—how then could our Parſon preach as he does upon Beef, and Pud⯑ding too, if you go to that? Don't tell me of your Ancients, had not you al⯑moſt kill'd the poor babe with a diſh of Daemonial black Broth?—Lacede⯑monian black Broth, thou would'ſt ſay, (reply'd Cornelius) but I cannot allow the ſurfeit to have been occaſioned by that diet, ſince it was recommended by the Divine Lycurgus. No, Nurſe, thou muſt certainly have eaten ſome meats of ill digeſtion the day before, and that was the real cauſe of his diſorder. Conſider Woman, the different Temperaments of different Nations: What makes the Engliſh Phlegmatick and melancholy but Beef? what renders the Welch ſo hot and cholerick, but cheeſe and leeks? the French derive their levity from their [26] Soups, Frogs, and Muſhrooms: I would not let my Son dine like an Italian, leſt like an Italian he ſhould be jealous and revengeful: The warm and ſolid diet of Spain may be more beneficial, as it might indue him with a profound Gravity, but at the ſame time he might ſuck in with their food their intolerable Vice of Pride. Therefore Nurſe, in ſhort, I hold it re⯑quiſite to deny you at preſent, not only Beef, but likewiſe whatſoever any of thoſe Na⯑tions eat. During this ſpeech, the Nurſe remain'd pouting and marking her plate with the knife, nor would ſhe touch a bit during the whole din⯑ner. This the old Gentleman obſer⯑ving, order'd that the Child, to avoid the riſque of imbibing ill humours, ſhould be kept from her breaſt all that day, and be fed with Butter mix'd with Honey, according to a Preſcripti⯑on he had met with ſomewhere in Euſtathius upon Homer. This in⯑deed gave the Child a great looſeneſs, but he was not concern'd at it, in the opinion that whatever harm it might do his body, would be amply recom⯑penced [27] by the improvements of his un⯑derſtanding. But from thenceforth he inſiſted every day upon a particular Diet to be obſerved by the Nurſe; un⯑der which having been long uneaſy, ſhe at laſt parted from the family, on his ordering her for dinner the Paps of a Sow with Pig; taking it as the high⯑eſt indignity, and a direct Inſult upon her Sex and Calling.

Four years of young Martin's life paſs'd away in ſquabbles of this nature. Mrs. Scriblerus conſider'd it was now time to inſtruct him in the fundamen⯑tals of Religion, and to that end took no ſmall pains in teaching him his Cate⯑chiſm: But Cornelius look'd upon this as a tedious way of Inſtruction, and therefore employ'd his head to find out more pleaſing methods, the better to induce him to be fond of learning. He would frequently carry him to the Puppet-ſhow, of the Creation of the world, where the Child with exceeding delight gain'd a notion of the Hiſtory of the Bible. His firſt rudiments in profane hiſtory were acquired by ſee⯑ing [28] of Raree-ſhows, where he was brought acquainted with all the Princes of Europe. In ſhort the old Gentle⯑man ſo contriv'd it, to make every thing contribute to the improvement of his knowledge, even to his very Dreſs. He invented for him a Geo⯑graphical ſuit of cloaths, which might give him ſome hints of that Science, and likewiſe ſome knowledge of the Commerce of different Nations. He had a French Hat with an African Feather, Holland Shirts and Flanders Lace, Engliſh Cloth lin'd with Indian Silk, his Gloves were Italian, and his Shoes were Spaniſh: He was made to obſerve this, and daily catechis'd there⯑upon, which his Father was wont to call Travelling at home. He never gave him a Fig or an Orange but he obliged him to give an account from what Country it came. In Natural hiſtory he was much aſſiſted by his Curioſity in Sign-Poſts, inſomuch that he hath often confeſs'd he owed to them the knowledge of many Creatures which he never found ſince in any Au⯑thor, [29] ſuch as White Lions, Golden Dragons, &c. He once thought the ſame of Green Men, but had ſince found them mention'd by Kercherus, and verify'd in the Hiſtory of William of Newbury.^*

His diſpoſition to the Mathematicks was diſcover'd very early, by his draw⯑ing ^† parallel lines on his bread and butter, and interſecting them at equal Angles, ſo as to form the whole Su⯑perficies into ſquares. But in the midſt of all theſe Improvements, a ſtop was put to his learning the Alphabet, nor would he let him proceed to Letter D, till he could truly and diſtinctly pro⯑nounce C in the ancient manner, at which the Child unhappily boggled for near three months. He was alſo o⯑blig'd to delay his learning to write, having turn'd away the Writing Maſter becauſe he knew nothing of Fabius's Waxen Tables.

[30] Cornelius having read, and ſeriouſly weigh'd the methods by which the fa⯑mous Montaigne was educated, and re⯑ſolving in ſome degree to exceed them, reſolv'd he ſhould ſpeak and learn no⯑thing but the learned Languages, and eſpecially the Greek; in which he conſtantly eat and drank, according to Homer. But what moſt conduced to his eaſy attainment of this Language, was his love of Ginger-bread; which his Father obſerving, cauſed it to be ſtampt with the Letters of the Greek Alphabet; and the child the very firſt day eat as far as Iota. By this parti⯑cular application to this language above the reſt, he attain'd ſo great a profi⯑cience therein, that Gronovius inge⯑nuouſly confeſſes he durſt not confer with this child in Greek at eight years old; and at fourteen he compoſed a Tragedy in the ſame language, as the younger ^*Pliny had done before him.

He learn'd the Oriental Languages of Erpenius who reſided ſome time [31] with his father for that purpoſe. He had ſo early a Reliſh for the Eaſtern way of writing, that even at this time he compoſed (in imitation of it) the Thouſand and One Arabian Tales, and alſo the Perſian Tales, which have been ſince tranſlated into ſeveral languages, and lately into our own with particular elegance, by Mr. Ambroſe Philips. In this work of his Childhood, he was not a little aſſiſted by the hiſtorical Traditions of his Nurſe.

CHAP. V.
A Diſſertation upon Play-things.

HERE follow the Inſtructions of Cornelius Scriblerus concern⯑ing the Plays and Play-things to be uſed by his ſon Martin.

Notwithſtanding the foregoing In⯑junctions of Dr. Cornelius, he yet con⯑deſcended to allow the Child the uſe of ſome few modern Play-things; ſuch as might prove of any benefit to his mind, by inſtilling an early notion of the ſciences. For example, he found that Marbles taught him Percuſſion and the Laws of Motion; Nut-crackers the uſe of the Leaver; Swinging on the ends of a Board, the Balance; Bottle⯑ſcrews, the Vice; Whirligigs the Axis and Peritrochia; Bird-cages, the Pul⯑ly; and Tops the Centrifugal motion.

Others of his ſports were farther carry'd to improve his tender ſoul even in Virtue and Morality. We ſhall on⯑ly inſtance one of the moſt uſeful and inſtructive, Bob-cherry, which teaches at once two noble Virtues, Patience and Conſtancy; the firſt in adhering to the purſuit of one end, the latter in bearing a diſappointment.

[37] Beſides all theſe, he taught him as a diverſion, an odd and ſecret manner of Stealing, according to the Cuſtom of the Lacedaemonians; wherein he ſucceeded ſo well, that he practiſed it to the day of his death.

CHAP. VI.
Of the Gymnaſticks, in what Exerciſes Martinus was educated; ſomething concerning Muſick, and what ſort of a Man his Uncle was.

NOR was Cornelius leſs careful in adhering to the rules of the pu⯑reſt Antiquity, in relation to the Exer⯑ciſes of his Son. He was ſtript, pow⯑der'd, and anointed, but not conſtantly bath'd, which occaſion'd many heavy complaints of the Laundreſs about dir⯑tying his linnen. When he play'd at Quoits, he was allow'd his Breeches and Stockings; becauſe the Diſcoboli (as Cornelius well knew) were naked [...] the middle only. The Mother often [38] contended for modern Sports and com⯑mon Cuſtoms, but this was his conſtant reply, Let a Daughter be the care of her Mother, but the Education of a Son ſhould be the delight of his Father.

It was about this time, he heard to his exceeding content, that the Har⯑paſtus of the Ancients was yet in uſe in Cornwall, and known there by the name of Hurling. He was ſenſible the common Foot-ball was a very im⯑perfect imitation of that exerciſe; and thought it neceſſary to ſend Martin in⯑to the Weſt, to be initiated in that truly ancient and manly part of the Gymna⯑ſticks. The poor boy was ſo unfortu⯑nate as to return with a broken leg. This Cornelius look'd upon but as a ſlight ailment, and promis'd his Mother he would inſtantly cure it: He ſlit a green Reed, and caſt the knife upward, then tying the two parts of the Reed to the disjointed place, pronounced theſe words, ¹² Daries, daries, aſtataries, [39] diſſunapiter; huat, hanat, huat, iſta, piſta fiſta, domi abo, damnauſtra. But finding to his no ſmall aſtoniſhment, that this had no effect, in five days he condeſcended to have it ſet by a mo⯑dern Surgeon.

Mrs. Scriblerus, to prevent him from expoſing her Son to the like dangerous Exerciſes for the future, propos'd to ſend for a Dancing-Maſter, and to have him taught the Minuet and Rigadoon. Dancing (quoth Cornelius) I much ap⯑prove, for Socrates ſaid the beſt Dancers were the beſt Warriors; but not thoſe ſpecies of Dancing which you mention: They are certainly Corruptions of the Comic and Satyric Dance, which were utterly diſliked by the ſounder Ancients. Martin ſhall learn the Tragic Dance only, and I will ſend all over Europe till I find an Antiquary able to inſtruct him in the Saltatio Pyrrhica. ^* Scaliger, [40] from whom my ſon is lineally deſcended, boaſts to have performed this warlike Dance in the Preſence of the Emperor, to the great admiration of all Germany. What would he ſay, could be look down and ſee one of his poſterity ſo ignorant, as not to know the leaſt ſtep of that noble kind of Saltation?

The poor Lady was at laſt enur'd to bear all theſe things with a laudable patience, till one day her huſband was ſeized with a new thought. He had met with a ſaying, that ‘' Spleen, Gar⯑ter, and Girdle are the three impe⯑diments to the Curſus.'’ Therefore Pliny (lib. xi. cap. 37.) ſays, that ſuch as excel in that exerciſe have their Spleen cauteriz'd. My ſon (quoth Cor⯑nelius) runs but heavily; therefore I will have this operation performed upon him immediately. Moreover it will cure that immoderate Laughter to which I perceive he is addicted: For laughter (as the ſame author hath it, ibid.) is cauſed by the bigneſs of the Spleen. This deſign was no ſooner hinted to Mrs. Scriblerus, but ſhe burſt into tears, [41] wrung her hands, and inſtantly ſent to his Brother Albertus, begging him for the love of God to make haſte to her huſband.

Albertus was a diſcreet man, ſober in his opinions, clear of Pedantry, and knowing enough both in books and in the world, to preſerve a due regard for whatever was uſeful or excellent, whe⯑ther ancient or modern: If he had not always the authority, he had at leaſt the art, to divert Cornelius from many extravagancies. It was well he came ſpeedily, or Martin could not have boaſted the entire Quota of his Viſcera. What does it ſignify (quoth Albertus) whether my Nephew excels in the Curſus or not? Speed is often a ſymptom of Cow⯑ardice, witneſs Hares and Deer.—Do not forget Achilles (quoth Cornelius) I know that Running has been condemn'd by the proud Spartans, as uſeleſs in war; and yet Demoſthenes could ſay [...], a thought which the Engliſh Hudibras has well rendered,

That's true (quoth Albertus) but pray conſider on the other ſide that Animals ^* ſpleened grow extremely ſalacious, an experiment well known in dogs. Corne⯑lius was ſtruck with this, and reply'd gravely; If it be ſo, I will defer the Operation, for I will not encreaſe the powers of my ſon's body at the expence of thoſe of his mind. I am indeed diſap⯑pointed in moſt of my projects, and fear I muſt down at laſt contented with ſuch methods of Education as modern bar⯑barity affords. Happy had it been for us all, had we lived in the age of Au⯑guſtus! Then my ſon might have heard the Philoſophers diſpute in the Porticos of the Paleſtra and at the ſame time form'd his Body and his Underſtanding. It is true (reply'd Albertus) we have no Ex⯑edra for the Philoſophers, adjoining to our Tennis-Courts; but there are Ale-Houſes where he will hear very notable [43] argumentations: Tho' we come not up to the Ancients in the Tragic-dance, we ex⯑cel them in the [...], or the art of Tumbling. The Ancients would have beat us at Quoits, but not ſo much at the Jaculum or pitching the Bar. The ^*Pugilatus is in as great perfection in England as in old Rome, and the Cor⯑niſh-Hug in the ^†Luctus is equal to the volutatoria of the Ancients. You could not (anſwer'd Cornelius) have pro⯑duc'd a more unlucky inſtance of modern folly and barbarity, than what you ſay of the Jaculum. The ^‖ Cretians wiſely forbid their ſervants Gymnaſticks, as well as Arms; and yet your modern Footmen exerciſe themſelves daily in the Jaculum at the corner of Hyde-Park, whiſt their enervated Lords are lolling in their cha⯑riots (a ſpecies of Vectitation ſeldom us'd amongſt the Ancients, except, by old Men.) You ſay well (quoth Albertus) and we have ſeveral other kinds of Vectitation unknown to the Ancients, particularly flying Chariots, where the people may [44] have the benefit of this exerciſe at the ſmall expence of a farthing. But ſup⯑poſe (which I readily grant) that the An⯑cients excel'd us almoſt in every thing, yet why this ſingularity? your ſon muſt take up with ſuch maſters as the preſent age affords; we have Dancing-maſters, Wri⯑ting-maſters, and Muſick-maſters.

The bare mention of Muſick threw Cornelius into a paſſion. How can you dignify (quoth he) this modern fidling with the name of Muſick? Will any of your beſt Hautboys encounter a Wolf now a-days with no other arms but their in⯑ſtruments, as did that ancient piper Py⯑thocaris? Have ever wild Boars, Ele⯑phants, Deer, Dolphins, Whales or Tur⯑botts, ſhew'd the leaſt emotion at the moſt elaborate ſtrains of your modern Scrapers, all which have been as it were tam'd and humaniz'd by ancient Muſicians? Does not ^* Aelian tell us how the Lybian Mares were excited to horſing by Muſick? (which ought in truth to be a caution to modeſt Women againſt frequenting Operas; [45] and conſider, brother, you are brought to this dilemma, either to give up the vir⯑tue of the Ladies, or the power of your Muſick) Whence proceeds the degeneracy of our Morals? Is it not from the loſs of ancient Muſick, by which (ſays Ari⯑ſtotle) they taught all the Virtues? Elſe might we turn Newgate into a College of Dorian Muſicians, who ſhould teach mo⯑ral Virtues to thoſe People. Whence comes it that our preſent diſeaſes are ſo ſtubborn? whence is it that I daily de⯑plore my Sciatical pains? Alas! becauſe we have loſt their true cure, by the me⯑lody of the Pipe. All this was well known to the Ancients, as ^† Theophra⯑ſtus aſſures us, (whence ^§ Caelius calls it loca dolentia decantare) only indeed ſome ſmall remains of this ſkill is preſerved in the cure of the Tarantula. Did not ^‖ Pythagoras ſtop a company of drunken Bullies from ſtorming a civil houſe, by changing the ſtrain of the Pipe to the ſo⯑ber Spondaeus? and yet your modern Mu⯑ſicians want art to defend their windows [46] from common Nickers. It is well known that when the Lacedaemonian Mob were up, they ^* commonly ſent for a Leſbian Muſician to appeaſe them, and they im⯑mediately grew calm as ſoon as they heard Terpander ſing: Yet I don't believe that the Pope's whole band of Muſick, though the beſt of this age, could keep his Holi⯑neſs's Image from being burnt on a fifth of November. Nor would Terpander himſelf (replyed Albertus) at Billing ſ⯑gate, nor Timotheus at Hockley in the Hole have any manner of effect, nor both of 'em together bring ^† Horneck to com⯑mon civility. That's a groſs miſtake (ſaid Cornelius very warmly) and to prove it ſo, I have here a ſmall Lyra of my own, fram'd, ſtrung, and tun'd after the ancient manner. I can play ſome fragments of Leſbian tunes, and I wiſh I were to try them upon the moſt paſſionate creatures alive.—You never had a bet⯑ter opportunity (ſays Albertus) for yonder are two apple-women ſcolding, and juſt [47] ready to uncoif one another. With that Cornelius, undreſs'd as he was, jumps out into his Balcony, his Lyra in hand, in his ſlippers, with his breeches hang⯑ing down to his ankles, a ſtocking up⯑on his head, and a waiſtcoat of mur⯑rey-colour'd ſattin upon his body: He touch'd his Lyra with a very unuſual ſort of an Harpegiatura, nor were his hopes fruſtrated. The odd Equipage, the uncouth Inſtrument, the ſtrange⯑neſs of the Man and of the Muſick, drew the ears and eyes of the whole Mob that were got about the two fe⯑male Champions, and at laſt of the Combatants themſelves. They ap⯑proach'd the Balcony, in as cloſe atten⯑tion as Orpheus's firſt Audience of Cat⯑tle, or that of an Italian Opera when ſome favourite Air is juſt awaken'd. This ſudden effect of his Muſick en⯑couraged him mightily, and it was ob⯑ſerv'd he never touch'd his Lyre in ſuch a truly chromatick and enharmonick manner as upon that occaſion. The mob laugh'd, ſung, jump'd, danc'd, and us'd many odd geſtures, all which he [48] judg'd to be cauſed by his various ſtrains and modulations. Mark (quoth he) in this, the power of the Ionian, in that, you ſee the effect of the Aeolian. But in a little time they began to grow rio⯑tous, and threw ſtones: Cornelius then withdrew, but with the greateſt air of Triumph in the world. Brother (ſaid he) do you obſerve I have mixed unawares too much of the Phrygian; I might change it to the Lydian, and ſoften their riotous tempers: But it is enough: learn from this Sample to ſpeak with venerati⯑on of ancient Muſick. If this Lyre in my unſkilful hands can perform ſuch won⯑ders, what muſt it not have done in thoſe of a Timotheus or a Terpander? Having ſaid this, he retir'd with the utmoſt Exultation in himſelf, and Contempt of his Brother; and, it is ſaid, be⯑hav'd that night with ſuch unuſual haughtineſs to his family, that they all had reaſon to wiſh for ſome ancient Tibicen to calm his Temper.

CHAP. VII.
Rhetorick, Logick, and Metaphyſicks.

COrnelius having (as hath been ſaid) many ways been diſappoin⯑ted in his attempts of improving the bodily Forces of his ſon, thought it now high time to apply to the Culture of his Internal faculties. He judg'd it proper in the firſt place to inſtruct him in Rhetorick. But herein we ſhall not need to give the Reader any account of his wonderful progreſs, ſince it is already known to the learned world by his Treatiſe on this ſubject: I mean the admirable Diſcourſe [...], which he wrote at this time but conceal'd from his Father, knowing his extreme par⯑tiality for the Ancients. It lay by him conceal'd, and perhaps forgot among the great multiplicity of other Writings, till about the year 1727, he ſent it us to be printed, with many additional ex⯑amples drawn from the excellent live [50] Poets of this preſent age. We proceed therefore to Logick and Metaphyſick.

The wiſe Cornelius was convinced, that theſe being Polemical Arts, could no more be learned alone, than Fencing or Cudgel-playing. He thought it therefore neceſſary to look out for ſome Youth of pregnant parts, to be a ſort of humble Companion to his ſon in thoſe ſtudies. His good fortune directed him to one of moſt ſingular endowments, whoſe name was Conradus Crambe, who by the father's ſide was related to the Crouches of Cambridge, and his mo⯑ther was Couſin to Mr. Swan, Game⯑ſter and Punſter of the City of London. So that from both parents he drew a natural diſpoſition to ſport himſelf with Words, which as they are ſaid to be the counters of wiſe Men, and ready⯑money of Fools, Crambe had great ſtore of caſh of the latter ſort. Happy Martin in ſuch a Parent, and ſuch a Companion! What might not he at⯑chieve in Arts and Sciences.

Here I muſt premiſe a general obſer⯑vation of great benefit to mankind. [51] That there are many people who have the uſe only of one Operation of the Intellect, tho' like ſhort-ſighted men they can hardly diſcover it themſelves: They can form ſingle apprehenſions, but have neither of the other two faculties, the judicium or diſcurſus. Now as it is wiſely order'd, that people depriv'd of one ſenſe have the others in more perfection, ſuch people will form ſingle Ideas with a great deal of vivacity; and happy were it indeed if they would confine themſelves to ſuch, without forming judicia, much leſs argumen⯑tations.

Cornelius quickly diſcover'd, that theſe two laſt operations of the intel⯑lect were very weak in Martin, and al⯑moſt totally extinguiſh'd in Crambe; however he uſed to ſay that Rules of Logick are Spectacles to a purblind un⯑derſtanding, and therefore he reſolv'd to proceed with his two Pupils.

Martin's underſtanding was ſo total⯑ly immers'd in ſenſible objects, that he demanded examples from Material things of the abſtracted Ideas of Lo⯑gick: [52] As for Crambe, he contented himſelf with the Words, and when he could but form ſome conceit upon them, was fully ſatisfy'd. Thus Crambe would tell his Inſtructor, that All men were not ſingular; that Individu⯑ality could hardly be praedicated of any man, for it was commonly ſaid that a man is not the ſame he was, that madmen are beſide themſelves, and drun⯑ken men come to themſelves; which ſhows, that few men have that moſt valuable logical endowment, Individu⯑ality. Cornelius told Martin that a ſhoulder of mutton was an individual, which Crambe deny'd, for he had ſeen it cut into commons: That's true (quoth the Tutor) but you never ſaw it cut into ſhoulders of mutton: If it could (quoth Crambe) it would be the moſt lovely individual of the Univer⯑ſity. When he was told, a ſubſtance was that which was ſubject to accidents; then Soldiers (quoth Crambe) are the moſt ſubſtantial people in the World. Neither would he allow it to be a good definition of accident, that it could be [53] preſent or abſent without the deſtruction of the ſubject; ſince there are a great many accidents that deſtroy the ſub⯑ject, as burning does a houſe, and death a man. But as to that, Cornelius in⯑formed him, that there was a natural death, and a logical death; that though a man after his natural death was not capable of the leaſt pariſh-office, yet he might ſtill keep his Stall amongſt the logical praedicaments.

Cornelius was forc'd to give Martin ſenſible images; thus calling up the Coachman he aſk'd him what he had ſeen at the Bear-garden? the man an⯑ſwer'd he ſaw two men fight a prize; one was a fair man, a Sergeant in the Guards, the other black, a Butcher; the Sergeant had red breeches, the Butcher blue; they fought upon a Stage about four o'clock, and the Sergeant wounded the Butcher in the leg. Mark (quoth Cornelius) how the fellow runs through the praedicaments. Men, Sub⯑ſtantia; two, quantitas; fair and black, qualitas; Sergeant and Butcher, relatio; wounded the other, actio & paſſio; fight⯑ing, [54] ſitus; Stage, ubi; two a Clock, quando; blue and red Breeches, habitus. At the ſame time he warn'd Martin, that what he now learn'd as a Logician, he muſt forget as a natural Philoſopher; that tho' he now taught them that ac⯑cidents inher'd in the ſubject, they would find in time there was no ſuch thing; and that colour, taſte, ſmell, heat, and cold, were not in the things but only phantaſms of our brains. He was forc'd to let them into this ſecret, for Martin could not conceive how a habit of dancing inher'd in a dancing⯑maſter, when he did not dance; nay, he would demand the Characteriſticks of Relations: Crambe us'd to help him out by telling him, a Cuckold, a loſing gameſter, a man that had not din'd, a young heir that was kept ſhort by his father, might be all known by their countenance; that, in this laſt caſe, the Paternity and Filiation leave very ſenſible impreſſions in the relatum and correlatum. The greateſt difficulty was, when they came to the Tenth Praedi⯑cament: Crambe affirmed, that his [55] Habitus was more a ſubſtance than he was; for his cloaths could better ſubſiſt without him, than he without his cloaths.

Martin ſuppos'd an Univerſal Man to be like a Knight of a Shire or a Bur⯑geſs of a Corporation, that repreſented a great many Individuals. His Father aſk'd him, if he could not frame the Idea of an Univerſal Lord Mayor? Martin told him, that never having ſeen but one Lord Mayor, the Idea of that Lord Mayor always return'd to his mind; that he had great difficulty to abſtract a Lord Mayor from his Fur, Gown, and Gold Chain; nay, that the horſe he ſaw the Lord Mayor ride up⯑on not a little diſturb'd his imagination. On the other hand Crambe, to ſhow himſelf of a more penetrating genius, ſwore that he could frame a conception of a Lord Mayor not only without his Horſe, Gown, and Gold Chain, but even without Stature, Feature, Colour, Hands, Head, Feet, or any Body; which he ſuppos'd was the abſtract of a Lord Mayor. Cornelius told him [56] that he was a lying Raſcal; that an Univerſale was not the object of imagi⯑nation, and that there was no ſuch thing in reality, or a parte Rei. But I can prove (quoth Crambe) that there are Clyſters a parte Rei, but clyſters are univerſales; ergo. Thus I prove my Minor. Quod aptum eſt ineſſe multis, is an univerſale by definition: but every clyſter before it is adminiſtred has that quality; therefore every clyſter is an univerſale.

He alſo found fault with the Ad⯑vertiſements, that they were not ſtrict logical definitions: In an advertiſe⯑ment of a Dog ſtol'n or ſtray'd, he ſaid it ought to begin thus, An irrational a⯑nimal of the Genus caninum, &c. Cor⯑nelius told them, that though thoſe ad⯑vertiſements were not fram'd according to the exact rules of logical definitions, being only deſcriptions of things numero differentibus, yet they contain'd a faint image of the praedicabilia, and were highly ſubſervient to the common pur⯑poſes of life; often diſcovering things that were loſt, both animate and ina⯑nimate. [57] An Italian Grey-bound, of a mouſe-colour, a white ſpeck in the neck, lame of one leg, belongs to ſuch a Lady. Grey-hound, Genus; mouſe-colour'd, &c. differentia; lame of one leg, ac⯑cidents; belongs to ſuch a Lady, pro⯑prium.

Though I'm afraid I have tranſgreſs'd upon my Reader's patience already, I cannot help taking notice of one thing more extraordinary than any yet men⯑tion'd; which was Crambe's Treatiſe of Syllogiſms. He ſuppos'd that a Phi⯑loſopher's brain was like a great Foreſt, where Ideas rang'd like animals of ſe⯑veral kinds; that thoſe Ideas copulated, and engender'd Concluſions; that when thoſe of different Species copu⯑late, they bring forth monſters or abſur⯑dities; that the Major is the male, the Minor the female, which copulate by the Middle Term, and engender the Concluſion. Hence they are call'd the praemiſſa, or Predeceſſors of the Con⯑cluſion; and it is properly ſaid by Lo⯑gicians quod pariunt ſcientiam, opinionem, they beget ſcience, opinion, &c. Uni⯑verſal [58] Propoſitions are Perſons of quali⯑ty; and therefore in Logick they are ſaid to be of the firſt Figure. Singu⯑lar Propoſitions are Private perſons, and therefore plac'd in the third or laſt figure, or rank. From thoſe principles all the rules of Syllogiſms naturally follow.

• I. That there are only three Terms, neither more nor leſs; for to a child there can be only one father and one mother.
• II. From univerſal premiſſes there fol⯑lows an univerſal concluſion, as if one ſhould ſay that perſons of quality always beget perſons of quality.
• III. From ſingular premiſſes follows only a ſingular concluſion, that is, if the parents be only private people, the iſſue muſt be ſo likewiſe.
• IV. From particular propoſitions no⯑thing can be concluded, becauſe the Individua vaga are (like whore⯑maſters and common ſtrumpets) barren.
• [59] V. There cannot be more in the con⯑cluſion than was in the premiſſes, that is, children can only inherit from their parents.
• VI. The concluſion follows the weak⯑er part, that is, children inherit the diſeaſes of their parents.
• VII. From two negatives nothing can be concluded, for from divorce or ſeparation there can come no iſſue.
• VIII. The medium cannot enter the concluſion, that being logical inceſt.
• IX. An hypothetical propoſition is only a contract, or a promiſe of marriage; from ſuch therefore there can ſpring no real iſſue.
• X. When the premiſſes or parents are neceſſarily join'd (or in lawful wedlock) they beget lawful iſſue; but contingently join'd, they beget baſtards.

So much for the Affirmative propo⯑ſitions; the Negative muſt be defer'd to another occaſion.

Crambe us'd to value himſelf upon this Syſtem, from whence he ſaid one [60] might ſee the propriety of the expreſ⯑ſion, ſuch a one has a barren imaginati⯑on; and how common it is for ſuch people to adopt concluſions that are not the iſſue of their premiſſes? therefore as an Abſurdity is a Monſter, a Falſity is a Baſtard; and a true concluſion that followeth not from the premiſſes, may properly be ſaid to be adopted. But then what is an Enthymem? (quoth Cornelius.) Why, an Enthymem (re⯑ply'd Crambe) is when the Major is indeed married to the Minor, but the Marriage kept ſecret.

METAPHYSICKS were a large field in which to exerciſe the Weapons Lo⯑gick had put into their hands. Here Martin and Crambe us'd to engage like any prize fighters, before their Father, and his other Learned companions of the Sympoſiacks. And as Prize fight⯑ers will agree to lay aſide a buckler or ſome ſuch defenſive weapon, ſo would Crambe promiſe not to uſe ſimpliciter & ſecundum quid, provided Martin would part with materialiter & forma⯑liter: But it was found, that without [61] the help of the defenſive armour of thoſe Diſtinctions, the arguments cut ſo deep, that they fetch'd blood at e⯑very ſtroke. Their Theſes was pick'd out of Suarez, Thomas Aquinas, and other learned writers on thoſe ſubjects. I ſhall give the Reader a taſte of ſome of them.

• I. If the Innate Deſire of the know⯑ledge of Metaphyſicks was the cauſe of the Fall of Adam; and the Arbor Porphyriana the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil? affirm'd.
• II. If tranſcendental goodneſs could be truly praedicated of the Devil? affirm'd.
• III. Whether one, or many be firſt? or if one doth not ſuppoſe the notion of many? Suarez.
• IV. If the deſire of news in mankind be appetitus innatus not elicitus? affirm'd.
• V. Whether there is in human under⯑ſtandings potential falſities? affirm'd.
• VI. Whether God loves a poſſible An⯑gel better than an actually-exiſtent flye? deny'd.
• [62] VII. If Angels paſs from one extreme to another without going through the middle? Aquinas.
• VIII. If Angels know things more clearly in a morning? Aquinas.
• IX. Whether every Angel hears what one Angel ſays to another? deny'd, Aquinas.
• X. If temptation be proprium quarto modo of the Devil? deny'd. Aquinas.
• XI. Whether one Devil can Illuminate another? Aquin.
• XII. If there would have been any fe⯑males born in the ſtate of Innocence? Aquinas.
• XIII. If the Creation was finiſh'd in ſix days, becauſe ſix is the moſt per⯑fect number; or if ſix be the moſt perfect number becauſe the Creation was finiſhed in ſix days? Aquinas.

There were ſeveral others of which in the courſe of the life of this learned perſon we may have occa⯑ſion to treat, and one particularly that remains undecided to this day; it was taken from the learned Suarez.

• XIV. An praeter eſſe reale actualis eſ⯑ſentiae ſit aliud eſſe neceſſarium quo res actualiter exiſtat? In Engliſh thus. Whether beſides the real being of actual being, there be any other be⯑ing neceſſary to cauſe a thing to be?

This brings into my mind a Project to baniſh Metaphyſicks out of Spain, which was ſuppos'd might be effectu⯑ated by this method: That no-body ſhould uſe any Compound or Decom⯑pound of the Subſtantial Verbs but as they are read in the common conjuga⯑tions: for every body will allow, that if you debar a Metaphyſician from ens, eſſentia, entitas, ſubſiſtentia, &c. there is an end of him.

Crambe regretted extremely, that Subſtantial Forms, a race of harmleſs beings which had laſted for many years, and afforded a comfortable ſubſiſtance to many poor Philoſophers, ſhould be now hunted down like ſo many Wolves, without the poſſibility of a retreat. He conſider'd that it had gone much harder with them than with Eſſences, [64] which had retir'd from the Schools into the Apothecaries Shops, where ſome of them had been advanc'd into the de⯑gree of Quinteſſences. He thought there ſhould be a retreat for poor ſubſtantial Forms, amongſt the Gentle-uſhers at court; and that there were indeed ſub⯑ſtantial forms, ſuch as forms of Prayer, and forms of Government, without which, the things themſelves could neyer long ſubſiſt. He alſo us'd to wonder that there was not a reward for ſuch as could find out a fourth Figure in Logick, as well as for thoſe who ſhou'd diſcover the Longitude.

CHAP. VIII.
ANATOMY.

COrnelius, it is certain, had a moſt ſuperſtitious veneration for the Ancients; and if they contradicted each other, his Reaſon was ſo pliant and ductile, that he was always of the opinion of the laſt he read. But he reckon'd it a point of honour never to be vanquiſh'd in a diſpute; from [65] which quality he acquir'd the title of the Invincible Doctor. While the Pro⯑feſſor of Anatomy was demonſtrating to his ſon the ſeveral kinds of Inteſtines, Cornelius affirm'd that there were only two, the Colon and the Aichos, accord⯑ing to Hippocrates, who it was impoſ⯑ſible could ever be miſtaken. It was in vain to aſſure him this error proceed⯑ed from want of accuracy in dividing the whole Canal of the Guts: Say what you pleaſe (he reply'd) this is both mine and Hippocrates's opinion. You may with equal reaſon (anſwer'd the Profeſſor) affirm that a man's Liver hath five Lobes, and deny the Circula⯑tion of the blood. Ocular demonſtra⯑tion (ſaid Cornelius) ſeems to be on your ſide, yet I ſhall not give it up: Show me any viſcus of a human body, and I will bring you a Monſter that differs from the common rule in the ſtructure of it. If Nature ſhews ſuch variety in the ſame age, why may ſhe not have extended it further in ſeveral ages? Produce me a man now of the age of an Antidiluvian; of the ſtrength [66] of Sampſon, or the ſize of the Giants. If in the whole, why not in parts of the body, may it not be poſſible the preſent generation of men may differ from the Ancients? The Moderns have perhaps lengthen'd the channel of the guts by Gluttony, and diminiſh'd the liver by hard drinking. Though it ſhall be demonſtrated that modern blood circulates, yet I will ſtill believe with Hippocrates, that the blood of the Ancients had a flux and reflux from the heart, like a Tide. Conſider how Luxury hath introduced new diſeaſes, and with them not improbably alter'd the whole Courſe of the Fluids. Con⯑ſider how the current of mighty Rivers, nay the very channels of the Ocean are changed from what they were in an⯑cient days; and can we be ſo vain to imagine, that the Microcoſm of the human body alone is exempted from the fate of all things? I queſtion not but plauſible Conjectures may be made even as to the Time when the blood firſt began to circulate.—Such diſ⯑putes as theſe frequently perplex'd the [67] Profeſſor to that degree, that he would now and then in a paſſion leave him in the middle of a Lecture, as he did at this time.

There unfortunately happen'd ſoon after, an unuſual accident, which re⯑tarded the proſecution of the ſtudies of Martin. Having purchaſed the body of a Malefactor, he hir'd a Room for its diſſection near the Peſt-fields in St. Giles's, at a little diſtance from Tyburn Road. Crambe (to whoſe care this bo⯑dy was committed) carry'd it thither about twelve a clock at night in a Hack⯑ney-coach, few Houſe-keepers being very willing to let their lodgings to ſuch kind of Operators. As he was ſoftly ſtalking up ſtairs in the dark, with the dead man in his arms, his burthen had like to have ſlipp'd from him, which he (to ſave from falling) graſp'd ſo hard about the belly that it forced the wind through the Anus, with a noiſe exactly like the Crepitus of a living man. Crambe (who did not comprehend how this part of the Animal Oeconomy could remain in a dead man) was ſo terrify'd, [68] that he threw down the body, ran up to his maſter, and had ſcarce breath to tell him what had happen'd. Martin with all his Philoſophy could not pre⯑vail upon him to return to his poſt. You may ſay what you pleaſe (quoth Crambe) no man alive ever broke wind more naturally; nay, he ſeemed to be mightily relieved by it. The rolling of the corps down ſtairs made ſuch a noiſe that it awak'd the whole houſe. The maid ſhriek'd, the landlady cry'd out Thieves; but the Landlord, in his ſhirt as he was, taking a candle in one hand and a drawn ſword in the other, ventur'd out of the Room. The maid with only a ſingle petticoat ran up ſtairs, but ſpurning at the dead body, fell up⯑on it in a ſwoon. Now the Landlord ſtood ſtill and liſt'ned, then he look'd behind him, and ventur'd down in this manner one ſtair after another, 'till he came where lay his maid, as dead, up⯑on another corps unknown. The wife ran into the ſtreet and cry'd out Mur⯑der! the Watch ran in, while Martin and Crambe, hearing all this uproar, [69] were coming down ſtairs. The Watch imagin'd they were making their eſcape, ſeiz'd them immediately, and carried them to a neighbouring Juſtice; where, upon ſearching them, ſeveral kind of knives and dreadful weapons were found upon them. The Juſtice firſt examin'd Crambe. What is your Name? ſays the Juſtice. I have acquir'd (quoth Crambe) no great Name as yet; they call me Crambe or Crambo, no mat⯑ter which, as to my ſelf; though it may be ſome diſpute to poſterity.—What is yours and your Maſters pro⯑feſſion?—It is our buſineſs to imbrue our hands in blood; we cut off the heads, and pull out the hearts of thoſe that never injur'd us; we rip up big-belly'd women, and tear children limb from limb. Mar⯑tin endeavour'd to interrupt him; but the Juſtice being ſtrangely aſtoniſh'd with the frankneſs of Crambe's Con⯑feſſion, order'd him to proceed; upon which he made the following Speech.

May it pleaſe your Worſhip, as touch⯑ing the body of this man, I can anſwer each head that my accuſers alledge againſt [70] me, to a hair. They have hitherto talk'd like num-ſculls without brains; but if your Worſhip will not only give ear, but regard me with a favourable eye, I will not be brow-beaten by the ſupercilious looks of my adverſaries, who now ſtand cheek by jowl by your Worſhip. I will prove to their faces, that their foul mouths have not open'd their lips without a fal⯑ſity; though they have ſhewed their teeth as if they would bite off my noſe. Now, Sir, that I may fairly ſlip my Neck out of the collar, I beg this matter may not be ſlightly ſkin'd over. Tho' I have no man here to back me, I will un-boſom my ſelf, ſince Truth is on my ſide, and ſhall give them their bellies full, though they think they have me upon the hip. Whereas they ſay I came into their lodg⯑ings, with arms, and murder'd this man without their Privity, I declare I had not the leaſt Finger in it; and ſince I am to ſtand upon my own legs, nothing of this matter ſhall be left till I ſet it upon a right foot. In the vein I am in, I cannot for my heart's blood and guts bear this uſage: I ſhall not ſpare my [71] lungs to defend my good name: I was ever reckon'd a good liver; and I think I have the bowels of compaſſion. I aſk but juſtice, and from the crown of my head to the ſoal of my foot I ſhall ever acknowledge my ſelf your Worſhip's hum⯑ble Servant.

The Juſtice ſtared, the Landlord and Landlady lifted up their eyes, and Mar⯑tin fretted, while Crambe talk'd in this rambling incoherent manner; till at length Martin begg'd to be heard. It was with great difficulty that the Ju⯑ſtice was convinc'd, till they ſent for the Finiſher of human laws, of whom the Corps had been purchas'd; who looking near the left ear, knew his own work, and gave Oath accordingly.

No ſooner was Martin got home, but he fell into a paſſion at Crambe. What Daemon, he cry'd, hath poſſeſſed thee that thou will never forſake that imper⯑tinent cuſtom of punning? Neither my council nor my example have thus miſled thee; thou governeſt thy ſelf by moſt erro⯑neous Maxims. Far from it (anſwers Crambe) my life is as orderly as my [72] Dictionary, for by my Dictionary I or⯑der my life. I have made a Kalendar of radical words for all the ſeaſons, months, and days of the year: Every day I am under the dominion of a cer⯑tain Word: but this day in particular I cannot be miſled, for I am govern'd by one that rules all ſexes, ages, con⯑ditions, nay all animals rational and ir⯑rational. Who is not govern'd by the word Led? Our Noblemen and Drunk⯑ards are pimp-led, Phyſicians and Pul⯑ſes fee-led, their Patients and Oranges pil-led, a New-married Man and an Aſs are bride-led, an Old-married Man and a Pack-horſe ſad-led; Cats and Dice are rat-led, Swine and Nobility are ſty-led, a Coquet and a Tinder-box are ſpark-led, a Lover and a Blunderer are grove-led. And that I may not be te⯑dious—Which thou art (reply'd Mar⯑tin, ſtamping with his foot) which thou art, I ſay, beyond all human toleration—Such an unnatural, unaccountable, uncoherent, unintelligible, unprofita⯑ble—There it is now! (interrupted Crambe) this is your Day for Uns. [73] Martin could bear no longer—however compoſing his Countenance, Come hi⯑ther—he cry'd, there are five pounds, ſeventeen ſhillings and nine pence: thou haſt been with me eight months, three weeks, two days, and four hours. Poor Crambe upon the receipt of his Salary, fell into tears, flung the money upon the ground, and burſt forth in theſe words: O Cicero, Cicero! if to pun be a crime, 'tis a crime I have learned from thee: O Bias, Bias! if to pun be a crime, by thy example was I bias'd. Whereupon Martin, (conſidering that one of the greateſt of Orators, and even a Sage of Greece had punned,) heſit⯑ted, relented, and re-inſtated Crambe in his Service.

CHAP. IX.
How Martin become a grat Critick.

IT was a moſt peculiar Talent in Martinus, to convert every Trifle into a ſerious thing, either in the way [74] of Life, or in Learning. This can no way be better exemplify'd, than in the effect which the Puns of Crambe had on the Mind and Studies of Martinus, He conceiv'd, that ſomewhat of a like Talent to this of Crambe, of aſſembling parallel ſounds, either ſyllables, or words, might conduce to the Emendation and Correction of Ancient Authors, if ap⯑ply'd to their Works, with the ſame diligence, and the ſame liberty. He re⯑ſolv'd to try firſt upon Virgil, Horace, and Terence; concluding, that if the moſt correct Authors could be ſo ſerved with any reputation to the Critick, the amendment and alteration of all the reſt wou'd eaſily follow; whereby a new, a vaſt, nay boundleſs Field of Glory would be open'd to the true and abſolute Critick.

This Specimen on Virgil he has given us, in the Addenda to his Notes on the Dunciad. His Terence and Horace are in every bodies hands, under the names of Richard B [...]ley, and Francis H [...]re. And we have convincing proofs that the late Edition of Milton [75] publiſh'd in the name of the former of theſe, was in truth the Work of no o⯑ther than our Scriblerus.

CHAP. X.
Of Martinus's Uncommon Practice of Phyſick, and how he apply'd himſelf to the Diſeaſes of the Mind.

BUT it is high time to return to the Hiſtory of the Progreſs of Mar⯑tinus in the Studies of Phyſick, and to enumerate ſome at leaſt of the many Diſcoveries and Experiments he made therein.

One of the firſt was his Method of inveſtigating latent Diſtempers, by the ſagacious Quality of Setting-Dogs and Pointers. The Succeſs, and the Ad⯑ventures that beſel him, when he walk'd with theſe Animals, to ſmell them out in the Parks and publick places about London, are what we would willingly relate; but that his own Account, to⯑gether with a Liſt of thoſe Gentlemen [76] and Ladies at whom they made a Full Sett, will be publiſh'd in time conveni⯑ent. There will alſo be added the Re⯑preſentation, which on occaſion of one diſtemper which was become almoſt e⯑pidemical, he thought himſelf oblig'd to lay before both Houſes of Parliament, intitled, A Propoſal for a General Flux, to exterminate at one blow the P [...]x out of this kingdom.

He next proceeded to an Enquiry into the Nature and Tokens of Virgini⯑ty, according to the Jewiſh Doctrines, which occaſion'd that moſt curious Treatiſe of the Purification of ^* Queen Eſther, with a Diſplay of her Caſe at large; ſpeedily alſo to be publiſhed.

But being weary of all practice on foetid Bodies, from a certain niceneſs of Conſtitution, (eſpecially when he at⯑tended Dr. Woodward thro' a Twelve-months courſe of Vomition) he deter⯑mined to leave it off entirely, and to ap⯑ply himſelf only to diſeaſes of the Mind. He attempted to find out Specificks for [77] all the Paſſions; and as other Phyſi⯑cians throw their Patients into ſweats, vomits, purgations, &c. he caſt them into Love, hatred, hope, fear, joy, grief, &c. And indeed the great Irregu⯑larity of the Paſſions in the Engliſh Nation, was the chief motive that in⯑duced him to apply his whole ſtudies, while he continued among us, to the Diſeaſes of the Mind.

To this purpoſe he directed, in the firſt place, his late acquir'd ſkill in Ana⯑tomy. He conſider'd Virtues and Vices as certain Habits which proceed from the natural Formation and Structure of particular parts of the body. A Bird flies becauſe it has Wings, a Duck ſwims becauſe it is web-footed: and there can be no queſtion but the Adun⯑city of the pounces, and beaks of the Hawks, as well as the length of the fangs, the ſharpneſs of the teeth, and the ſtrength of the crural and Maſſeter⯑muſcles in Lions and Tygers, are the cauſe of the great and habitual Immo⯑rality of thoſe Animals.

[78] Iſt, He obſerv'd that the Soul and Body mutually operate upon each o⯑ther, and therefore if you deprive the Mind of the outward Inſtruments whereby ſhe uſually expreſſeth that Paſſion, you will in time abate the Paſſion itſelf, in like manner as Ca⯑ſtration abates Luſt.

2dly, That the Soul in mankind ex⯑preſſeth every Paſſion by the Motion of ſome particular Muſcles.

3dly, That all Muſcles grow ſtronger and thicker by being much us'd; there⯑fore the habitual Paſſions may be diſ⯑cerned in particular perſons by the ſtrength and bigneſs of the Muſcles us'd in the expreſſion of that Paſſion.

4thly, That a Muſcle may be ſtrengthen'd or weakn'd by weakning or ſtrength'ning the force of its Anta⯑goniſt. Theſe things premis'd, he took notice,

That Complaiſance, humility, aſſent, approbation, and civility, were expreſs'd by nodding the head and bowing the body forward: on the contrary, diſſent, diſlike, refuſal, pride, and arrogance, [79] were mark'd by toſſing the head, and bending the body backwards: which two Paſſions of aſſent, and diſſent the Latins rightly expreſs'd by the words adnuere and abnuere. Now he obſerv'd that complaiſant and civil people had the Flexors of the head very ſtrong; but in the proud and inſolent there was a great over-balance of ſtrength in the Extenſors of the Neck and the Muſcles of the Back, from whence they per⯑form with great facility the motion of toſſing, but with great difficulty that of bowing, and therefore have juſtly ac⯑quir'd the Title of ſtiff-neck'd: In or⯑der to reduce ſuch perſons to a juſt balance, he judg'd that the pair of Muſcles call'd Recti interni, the Maſ⯑toidal, with other flexors of the head, neck, and body muſt be ſtrengthen'd; their Antagoniſts, the Splenii Complexi, and the Extenſors of the Spine, weak⯑en'd; For which purpoſe Nature her⯑ſelf ſeems to have directed mankind to correct this Muſcular Immorality by tying ſuch fellows Neck-and-heels.

[80] Contrary to this, is the pernicious Cuſtom of Mothers who aboliſh the natural Signature of Modeſty in their Daughters by teaching them toſſing and bridling, rather than the baſhful poſ⯑ture of ſtooping, and hanging down the head. Martinus charg'd all huſbands to take notice of the Poſture of the Head of ſuch as they courted to Matri⯑mony, as that upon which their future happineſs did much depend.

Flatterers, who have the flexor Muſ⯑cles ſo ſtrong that they are always bow⯑ing and cringing, he ſuppos'd might in ſome meaſure be corrected by being ty'd down upon a Tree by the back, like the children of the Indians; which doctrine was ſtrongly confirm'd by his obſerving the ſtrength of the levatores Scapulae: This Muſcle is call'd the Muſcle of patience, becauſe in that af⯑fection of Mind people ſhrug and raiſe up the ſhoulder to the tip of the ear. This Muſcle alſo he obſerved to be ex⯑ceedingly ſtrong and large in Henpeck'd Huſbands, in Italians, and in Engliſh Miniſters.

[81] In purſuance of his Theory, he ſup⯑pos'd the Conſtrictors of the Eye-lids, muſt be ſtrengthen'd in the ſupercili⯑ous, the abductors in drunkards and con⯑templative men, who have the ſame ſteddy and grave motion of the eye. That the buccinatores or blowers up of the cheeks, and the dilators of the Noſe, were too ſtrong in Cholerick people; and therefore Nature here again direc⯑ted us to a remedy, which was to cor⯑rect ſuch extraordinary dilatation by pulling by the Noſe.

The rolling amorous Eye, in the Paſſion of Love, might be corrected by frequently looking thro' glaſſes. Imper⯑tinent fellows that jump upon Tables, and cut capers, might be cur'd by relax⯑ing medicines apply'd to the Calves of their legs, which in ſuch people are too ſtrong.

But there were two Caſes which he reckon'd extremely difficult. Firſt, Affectation, in which there were ſo many Muſcles of the bum, thighs, bel⯑ly, neck, back, and the whole body, all [82] in a falſe tone, that it requir'd an im⯑practicable multiplicity of applications.

The ſecond caſe was immoderate Laughter: When any of that riſible ſpecies were brought to the Doctor, and when he conſider'd what an infinity of Muſcles theſe laughing Raſcals threw into a convulſive motion at the ſame time; whether we regard the ſpaſms of the Diaphragm and all the muſcles of reſpiration, the horrible rictus of the mouth, the diſtortion of the lower jaw, the criſping of the noſe, twinkling of the eyes, or ſphaerical convexity of the cheeks, with the tremulous ſuccuſſion of the whole human body: when he conſider'd, I ſay, all this, he uſed to cry out Caſus plane deplorabilis! and give ſuch Patients over.

CHAP. XI.
The Caſe of a young Nobleman at Court, with the Doctor's Preſcription for the ſame.

AN eminent Inſtance of Martinus's Sagacity in diſcovering the Diſ⯑tempers of the Mind, appear'd in the caſe of a young Nobleman at Court, who was obſerv'd to grow extremely affected in his ſpeech, and whimſical in all his behaviour. He began to aſk odd queſtions, talk in verſe to himſelf, ſhut himſelf up from his friends, and be acceſſible to none, but Flatterers, Poets, and Pickpockets; till his Relations and old Acquaintance judged him to be ſo far gone, as to be a fit Patient for the Doctor.

As ſoon as he had heard and exami⯑ned all the ſymptoms, he pronounced his diſtemper to be Love.

His friends aſſured him that they had with great care obſerv'd all his motions, [84] and were perfectly ſatisfy'd there was no Woman in the caſe. Scriblerus was as poſitive that he was deſperately in love with ſome perſon or other. How can that be? (ſaid his Aunt, who came to aſk the advice) when he converſes almoſt with none but himſelf? Say you ſo? he replied, why then he is in love with Himſelf, one of the moſt com⯑mon caſes in the world. I am aſto⯑niſh'd, people do not enough attend this Diſeaſe, which has the ſame cauſes and ſymptoms, and admits of the ſame cure, with the other: eſpecially ſince here the caſe of the Patient is the more help⯑leſs and deplorable of the two, as this unfortunate paſſion is more blind than the other. There are people who diſ⯑cover from their very youth a moſt a⯑morous inclination to themſelves; which is unhappily nurs'd by ſuch Mothers, as with their good will, wou'd never ſuffer their children to be croſs'd in love. Eaſe, luxury, and idleneſs, blow up this flame as well as the other: Conſtant opportunities of converſation with the perſon beloved, (the greateſt [85] of incentives) are here impoſſible to be prevented. Bawds and Pimps in the other love, will be perpetually doing kind offices, ſpeaking a good word for the party, and carry about Billet doux. Therefore I aſk you, Madam, if this Gentleman has not been much frequen⯑ted by Flatterers, and a ſort of people who bring him dedications and verſes? O Lord! Sir, (quoth the Aunt) the houſe is haunted with them. There it is, (reply'd Scriblerus) thoſe are the bawds and pimps that go between a man and himſelf. Are there no civil Ladies, that tell him he dreſſes well, has a gentlemanly air, and the like? Why truly Sir, my Nephew is not auk⯑ward—Look you Madam, this is a misfortune to him: In former days theſe ſort of lovers were happy in one reſpect, that they never had any Rivals, but of late they have all the Ladies ſo—Be pleaſed to anſwer a few queſ⯑tions more. Whom does he generally talk of? Himſelf, quoth the Aunt. Whoſe wit and breeding does he moſt commend? His own, quoth the Aunt. [86] Whom does he write letters to? Him⯑ſelf. Whom does he dream of? All the dreams I ever heard were of him⯑ſelf. Whom is he ogling yonder? Himſelf in his looking-glaſs. Why does he throw back his head in that languiſhing poſture? Only to be bleſt with a ſmile of himſelf as he paſſes by, Does he ever ſteal a kiſs from himſelf, by biting his lips? Oh continually, till they are perfect vermilion. Have you obſerv'd him to uſe Familiarities with any body? With none but himſelf: he often embraces himſelf with folded arms, he claps his hand often upon his hip, nay ſometimes thruſts it into—his breaſt.

Madam, ſaid the Doctor, all theſe are ſtrong ſymptoms, but there remain a few more. Has this amorous gentle⯑man preſented himſelf with any Love⯑toys; ſuch as gold Snuff-boxes, repea⯑ting Watches, or Tweezer-caſes? thoſe are things that in time will ſoften the moſt obdurate heart. Not only ſo, (ſaid the Aunt) but he bought the other day a very fine brilliant diamond Ring for his own wearing.—Nay, if he has accep⯑ted [87] of this Ring, the intrigue is very forward indeed, and it is high time for friends to interpoſe. Pray Madam, a word or two more—Is he jealous that his acquaintance do not behave them⯑ſelves with reſpect enough? will he bear jokes and innocent freedoms? By no means; a familiar appellation makes him angry; if you ſhake him a little roughly by the hand, he is in a rage; but if you chuck him under the chin he will return you a box on the ear.—Then the caſe is plain: he has the true Pathognomick ſign of Love, Jealouſly; for no body will ſuffer his miſtreſs to be treated at that rate. Madam, upon the whole this Caſe is extreamly dange⯑rous. There are ſome people who are far gone in this paſſion of ſelf-love, but then they keep a very ſecret Intrigue with themſelves, and hide it from all the world beſides. But this Patient has not the leaſt care of the Reputati⯑on of his Beloved, he is downright ſcan⯑dalous in his behaviour with himſelf; he is enchanted, bewitch'd, and almoſt [88] paſt cure. However let the following methods be try'd upon him.

Firſt, let him *** Hiatus. *** Secondly, let him wear a Bob-wig. Thirdly, ſhun the Company of flatter⯑ers, nay of ceremonious people, and of all Frenchmen in general. It would not be a miſs if he travel'd over Eng⯑land in a Stage-coach, and made the Tour of Holland in a Track-ſcoute. Let him return the Snuff-boxes, Twee⯑zer-caſes, (and particularly the Dia⯑mond Ring) which he has receiv'd from himſelf. Let ſome knowing friend repreſent to him the many vile Qualities of this Miſtreſs of his: let him be ſhewn that her Extravagance, Pride, and Prodigality will infallibly bring him to a morſel of bread: Let it be prov'd, that he has been Falſe to himſelf, and if Treachery is not a ſuf⯑ficient cauſe to diſcard a Miſtreſs, what is? In ſhort let him be made to ſee that no mortal beſides himſelf either loves or can ſuffer this Creature. Let all Looking-glaſſes, poliſh'd Toys, and even clean Plates beremoved from him, [89] for fear of bringing back the admired object. Let him be taught to put off all thoſe tender airs, affected ſmiles, languiſhing looks, wanton toſſes of the head, coy motions of the body, that mincing gait, ſoft tone of voice, and all that enchanting woman-like behaviour, that has made him the charm of his own eyes, and the object of his own a⯑doration. Let him ſurprize the Beauty he adores at a diſadvantage, ſurvey him⯑ſelf naked, diveſted of artificial charms, and he will find himſelf a forked ſtrad⯑ling Animal, with bandy legs, a ſhort neck, a dun hide, and a pot-belly. It would be yet better if he took a ſtrong purge once a week, in order to contem⯑plate himſelf in that condition: at which time it will be convenient to make uſe of the Letters, Dedications, &c. aboveſaid. Something like this has been obſerv'd by Lucretius and o⯑thers to be a powerful remedy in the caſe of Women. If all this will not do, I muſt e'en leave the poor man to his deſtiny. Let him marry himſelf, and when he is condemn'd eternally to [90] himſelf, perhaps he may run to the next pond to get rid of himſelf, the Fate of moſt violent Self-lovers.

CHAP. XII.
How Martinus endeavoured to find out the Seat of the Soul, and of his Cor⯑reſpondence with the Free-Thinkers.

IN this Deſign of Martin to inveſti⯑gate the Diſeaſes of the Mind, he thought nothing ſo neceſſary as an En⯑quiry after the Seat of the Soul; in which at firſt he labour'd under great uncertainties. Sometimes he was of opinion that it lodg'd in the Brain, ſometimes in the Stomach, and ſome⯑times in the Heart. Afterwards he thought it abſurd to confine that ſove⯑reign Lady to one apartment, which made him infer that ſhe ſhifted it ac⯑cording to the ſeveral functions of life: The Brain was her Study, the Heart her State-room, and the Stomach her Kitchen. But as he ſaw ſeveral Offices [91] of life went on at the ſame time, he was forc'd to give up this Hypotheſis alſo. He now conjectured it was more for the dignity of the Soul to perform ſeveral operations by her little Miniſters, the Animal Spirits, from whence it was natural to conclude, that ſhe reſides in different parts according to different In⯑clinations, Sexes, Ages, and Profeſſions. Thus in Epicures he ſeated her in the mouth of the Stomach, Philoſophers have her in the Brain, Soldiers in their Heart, Women in their Tongues, Fid⯑lers in their Fingers, and Rope-dancers in their Toes. At length he grew fond of the Glandula Pinealis, diſſecting many Subjects to find out the different Figure of this Gland, from whence he might diſcover the cauſe of the diffe⯑rent Tempers in mankind. He ſup⯑pos'd that in factious and reſtleſs-ſpirit⯑ed people he ſhould find it ſharp and pointed, allowing no room for the Soul to repoſe herſelf; that in quiet Tem⯑pers it was flat, ſmooth, and ſoft, af⯑fording to the Soul as it were an eaſy cuſhion. He was confirm'd in this by [92] obſerving, that Calves and Philoſophers, Tygers and Stateſmen, Foxes and Shar⯑pers, Peacocks and Fops, Cock-Spar⯑rows and Coquets, Monkeys and Play⯑ers, Courtiers and Spaniels, Moles and Miſers, exactly reſemble one another in the conformation of the Pineal Gland. He did not doubt likewiſe to find the ſame reſemblance in Highway⯑men and Conquerors: In order to ſa⯑tisfy himſelf in which, it was, that he purchaſed the body of one of the firſt Species (as hath been before rela⯑ted) at Tyburn, hoping in time to have the happineſs of one of the latter too, under his Anatomical knife.

We muſt not omit taking notice here that theſe Enquiries into the Seat of the Soul gave occaſion to his firſt cor⯑reſpondence with the ſociety of Free-Thinkers, who were then in their infan⯑cy in England, and ſo much taken with the promiſing endowments of Martin, that they order'd their Secretary to write him the following Letter.

What return Martin made to this obliging Letter we muſt defer to ano⯑ther occaſion: let it ſuffice at preſent to tell, that Crambe was in a great rage at them, for ſtealing (as he thought) a hint from his Theory of Syllogiſms, with⯑out [101] doing him the honour ſo much as to mention him. He advis'd his Maſter by no means to enter into their Society, unleſs they would give him ſufficient ſecurity, to bear him harm⯑leſs from any thing that might happen after this preſent life.

CHAP. XIV.
The DOUBLE MISTRESS.

BUT now the ſucceſsful Courſe of the Studies of Martin was inter⯑rupted by Love: Love, that unnerves the Vigour of the Hero, and ſoftens [103] the Severity of the Philoſopher. It chanced, that as Martin was walking forth to inhale the freſh breeze of the Evening, after the long and ſevere Studies of the day, and paſſing through the Weſtern Confines of the famous Metropolis of Albion, not far from the proud Battlements of the Palace of Whitehall, whoſe walls are embraced by the ſilver Thames; his eyes were drawn upwards by a large ſquare piece of Canvas, which hung forth to the view of the paſſing Citizens. Upon it was pourtrayed by ſome accurate pencil, the Lybian Leopard more fierce than in his native Deſart; the mighty Lion, who boaſted thrice the bulk of the Nemaean monſter; before whom ſtood the little Jackall, the faithful ſpy of the King of beaſts: Near theſe was placed, of two Cubits high, the black Prince of Mono⯑motapa; by whoſe ſide were ſeen the glaring Cat-a-mountain, the quill-dar⯑ting Porcupine, and the Man-mimick⯑ing Manteger. Cloſe adjoining to this, hung another piece of Canvas on which was diſplay'd the pourtrait of two Bo⯑hemian [104] Damſels, whom Nature had as cloſely united as the ancient Herma⯑phroditus and Salmacis; and whom it was as impoſſible to divide, as the mingled waters of the gentle Thames and the amorous Iſis. While Martin ſtood in a meditating poſture, feaſting his eyes on this Picture, he heard on a ſudden the ſonorous notes of a Clarion, which ſeem'd of the pureſt cryſtal: In an inſtant the paſſing multitude flock'd to the ſound, as when a Drum ſum⯑mons the ſtraggling ſoldiers to the ap⯑proaching Battle. The youthful Vir⯑tuoſo, who was in daily purſuit of the Curioſities of Nature, was immediately ſurrounded by the gazing throng. The doors, for ever barr'd to the pennyleſs populace, ſeem'd to open themſelves at his producing a ſilver Six-pence, which (like Aeneas's golden bough) gain'd him admiſſion into that Scene of Won⯑ders. He no ſooner enter'd the firſt apartment, but his noſtrils were ſtruck with the ſcent of Carnage; broken Bones and naked Carcaſſes beſtrow'd the floor. The majeſtick Lion rouz'd [105] from his bed, and ſhook his brindled Mane; the ſpotted Leopard gnaſh'd his angry teeth, and walking to and fro, in indignation rattled his chains. Mar⯑tin with infinite pleaſure heard the Hi⯑ſtory of the ſeveral Monſters, which was courteouſly open'd to him by a Perſon of a grave and earneſt mien; whoſe frank behaviour and ready an⯑ſwers diſcover'd him to have been long converſant with different Nations, and to have journey'd through diſtant Re⯑gions. By him he was informed, that the Lion was hunted on the hills of Lebanon, by the Baſha of Jeruſalem; that the Leopard was nurs'd in the un⯑inhabited woods of Lybia; the Porcu⯑pine came from the kingdom of Preſ⯑ter-John, and the Manteger was a true deſcendant of the celebrated Hanniman the Magnificent. Sir, ſaid Mr. Ran⯑dal (for that was the name of the Maſter of the Show) the whole World cannot match theſe prodigies: twice have I ſail'd round the Globe; theſe feet have travers'd the moſt remote and barbarous nations; and I can with [106] conſcience affirm, that not all the De⯑ſarts of the four Quarters of the Earth furniſh out a more compleat ſett of A⯑nimals than what are contain'd within theſe walls. Friend, (anſwer'd Mar⯑tin) bold is thy Aſſertion, and wonder⯑ful is the knowledge of a Traveller. But did'ſt thou ever riſque thy ſelf a⯑mong the ^*Scythian Canibals, or thoſe wild men of Abarimon, who walk with their feet backwards? haſt thou ever ſeen the Sciopi, ſo called becauſe when laid ſupine, they ſhelter them⯑ſelves from the Sun-beams with the ſhadow of their feet? canſt thou pro⯑cure me a Troglodyte footman, who can catch a Roe at his full ſpeed? haſt thou ever beheld thoſe Illyrian damſels who have two ſights in one eye, whoſe looks are poiſonous to males that are adult? haſt thou ever meaſur'd the gi⯑gantick Ethiopian, whoſe ſtature is a⯑bove eight cubits high, or the ſeſqui⯑pedalian Pigmey? haſt thou ever ſeen any of the Cynocephali, who have the [107] head and voice of a Dog, and whoſe ^*milk is the only true ſpecifick for Conſumptions? Sir (reply'd Mr. Ran⯑dal) all theſe have I beheld, upon my honour, and many more which are ſet forth in my Journal: As for your dog⯑fac'd men, they are no other than what ſtands before you; that is naturally the fierceſt, but by art the tameſt Mante⯑ger in the world. That word (replies Martin) is a corruption of the ^†Man⯑tichora of the Ancients, the moſt nox⯑ious Animal that ever infeſted the earth; who had a Sting above a cubit long, and would attack a rank of armed men at once, flinging his poiſonous darts ſe⯑veral miles around him. Canſt thou inform me whether the Boars grunt in Macedonia? Canſt thou give me a Certificate that the Lions in Africa are afraid of the ſcolding of Wo⯑men? haſt thou ever heard the ſagaci⯑ous Hyaena counterfeit the voice of a ſhepherd, imitate the vomiting of a [108] man to draw the dogs together, and ev'n call a ſhepherd by his proper name? Your Crocodile is but a ſmall one, but you ought to have brought with him the bird Trochilos that picks his teeth after dinner, at which the ſilly animal is ſo pleaſed, that he gapes wide enough to give the Ichneumon, his mortal e⯑nemy, an entrance into his belly. Your modern Oſtriches are dwindled to meer Larks in compariſon with thoſe of the Ancients; theirs were equal in ſtature to a man on horſeback. Alas! we have loſt the chaſte bird Porphyrion! the whole Race was deſtroy'd by Wo⯑men, becauſe they diſcover'd the infi⯑delity of wives to their huſbands. The Merops too is now no where to be found, the only bird that flew backward by the tail. But ſay, canſt thou inform me, what Dialect of the Greek is ſpo⯑ken by the birds of Diomedes'iſland? for it is from them only we can learn the true pronunciation of that ancient language.—Mr. Randal made no ſa⯑tisfactory anſwer to theſe demands, but harangued chiefly upon modern Mon⯑ſters, [109] and ſeem'd willing to confine his inſtances to the Animals of his own col⯑lection, pointing to each of them in order with his Rod.

After Martin had ſatisfy'd his curi⯑oſity here, he was conducted into ano⯑ther Apartment. Juſt at the entrance of the door appear'd a Negroe Prince. His habiliments beſpoke him royal; his head was crown'd with the feather of an Oſtrich, his ſable feet and legs were interlaced with Purple and Gold, ſpangled with the Diamonds of Corn⯑wall, and the precious ſtones of Briſtol. Though his ſtature was of the loweſt, yet he behav'd himſelf with ſuch an Air of Grandeur, as gave evident to⯑kens of his Regal Birth and Education. He was mounted upon the leſt Palfrey in the Univerſe; a Palfrey whoſe na⯑tural Beauty ſtood not in need of thoſe various colour'd Ribbons which braided his Mane, and were interwoven with his Tail. Again the chryſtal Clarion founded, and after ſeveral courteous ſpeeches between the black Prince and Martin, our youthful Philoſopher [110] walk'd into the midſt of the room, to bleſs his ſight with the moſt beautiful Curioſity of Nature. On a ſudden en⯑ter'd at another door the two Bohemi⯑an Siſters, whoſe common parts of Ge⯑neration, had ſo cloſely ally'd them, that Nature ſeem'd here to have con⯑ſpired with Fortune, that their lives ſhould run in an eternal Parallel.

The Sun had twice eight times per⯑form'd his annual courſe, ſince their Mother brought them into the world with double pangs. Lindamira's eyes were of a lively blue; Indamora's were black and piercing. Lindamira's cheeks might rival the bluſh of the morning; in Indamora the Lilly overcame the Roſe. Lindamira's treſſes were of the paler Gold, while the locks of Inda⯑mora were black and gloſſy as the Plumes of a Raven.

How great is the power of Love in human breaſts! In vain has the Wiſe man recourſe to his Reaſon, when the inſinuating Arrow touches his heart, and the pleaſing poiſon is diffuſed through his veins. But then how vio⯑lent, [111] how tranſporting muſt that paſ⯑ſion prove, where not only the Fire of Youth, but the unquenchable Curioſi⯑ty of a Philoſopher, pitch'd upon the ſame object! For how much ſoever our Martin was enamour'd on her as a beautiful Woman, he was infinitely more raviſh'd with her as a charming Monſter. What wonder then, if his gentle Spirit, already humaniz'd by a polite Education to receive all ſoft im⯑preſſions, and fired by the ſight of thoſe beauties ſo laviſhly expos'd to his view, ſhould prove unable to reſiſt at once ſo pleaſing a Paſſion, and ſo ami⯑able a Phaenomenon?

Martin, who felt the true emotions of Love, bluſh'd that the Object of his flame ſhould be ſo openly proſtitu⯑ted to vulgar eyes. And though he had been permitted to peruſe her moſt ſecret charms, yet his honourable paſ⯑ſion was ſo ſtrong, that it ran into the extreme of baſhfulneſs; ſo that at the firſt interview he made no Overtures of his Love. Penſive he return'd, and flinging himſelf on his Couch, paſs'd [112] away the tedious hours of the night in the utmoſt Inquietude. The ruſhy Taper afforded a glimm'ring light, by which he contemplated the tender lines of Ovid; but alas! his Remedy of Love was no cure for our unhappy Lover's Anxiety! He cloſed the amorous vo⯑lume, ſigh'd, and caſting his eyes a⯑round on the Books that adorned his room, broke forth in this pathetic Apo⯑ſtrophe.

O ye Spirits of Antiquity, who yet live in thoſe ſacred leaves! why do I make you conſcious of my ſhame? Yet why ſhould I depreciate the noble Paſ⯑ſion of Love, and call it Shame? your Heroes have felt it, your Poets and O⯑rators have prais'd it. Were I ena⯑mour'd on ſome gaudy Virgin, did I doat on vulgar Perfection, the Luſtre of an Eye, or the Roſe of a Cheek; with reaſon might I bluſh before you, moſt learned Inquiſitors into Nature! moſt reverend Pliny, Aelian, and Al⯑drovandus! Yet ſure you cannot diſap⯑prove of this, which is no wanton Paſ⯑ſion, but excited by ſo unparallel'd a [113] Production; a flame, that may not on⯑ly juſtify itſelf to the Severity of a Phi⯑loſopher, but even to the Avarice of a Parent; ſince ſhe who cauſes it carries a moſt plentiful Fortune in the ſole Ex⯑hibition of her perſon. Heavens! how I wonder at the Stupidity of man⯑kind, who can affix the opprobrious Name of Monſtroſity to what is only Variety of Beauty, and a Profuſion of generous Nature? If there are charms in one face, one mouth, one body; if there are charms in two eyes, two breaſts, two arms; are they not all re⯑doubled in the Object of my Paſſion? What tho'ſhe be the common Gaze of the multitude, and is follow'd about by the ſtupid and ignorant; does ſhe not herein reſemble the greateſt Princes, and the greateſt Beauties? only with this difference, that her Admirers are more numerous, and more laſting.

Thus ſigh'd he away the melancholy Night; but no ſooner had Aurora, with bluſhes in her cheeks (as conſci⯑ous that ſhe was juſt riſen from the embraces of Tithon) advanc'd through [114] the purple gates of the eaſt, but Mar⯑tin roſe: He roſe indeed, but Melan⯑choly, the companion of his ſlumbers, roſe and wak'd with him. This was the firſt day that he amuſed himſelf with the gaudy Ornaments of the bo⯑dy; that with ſecret pleaſure he con⯑templated his Face, and the ſymmetry of his limbs in a looking-glaſs. And now forſaking his ſolitary apartment, he walked directly to the habitation that confined the Object of his deſires. But as it is obſerv'd that the Curious never wander into the City to indulge their thirſt of knowledge'till about the hours of eleven or twelve; the Morn⯑ing has ever been the ſeaſon of Repoſe for all thoſe Animals, who (trapann'd by the frauds of Men) have been o⯑blig'd to change their Woods and Wil⯑derneſſes for Lodgings in Cities at the rate of four ſhillings a week. There⯑fore Martin at this early hour was nei⯑ther ſaluted by the ſound of the Trum⯑pet, nor were his eyes feaſted as before with the pleaſing picture of his Mi⯑ſtreſs; but he walked to and fro before [115] the door with folded arms, from the hour of five to eleven, humming in a low and melancholy tune.

The Trumpet no ſooner ſounded, but his heart leapt for joy, and a ſe⯑cond ſix-pence gain'd him a ſecond ad⯑mittance into her apartment. Yet this day alſo, he only own'd his Paſſion in the language of his Eyes: But alas! this language is only underſtood by thoſe that love, and Lindamira remain'd ſtill ignorant of his Paſſion.

In the mean time it was no ſmall cauſe of wonder to Mr. Randal, that this Gentleman ſhould come every day to behold the ſame ſhow. He, no leſs covetous than the Guardian of a rich Heireſs, entertain'd a ſuſpicion that Martin had a deſign of ſtealing the La⯑dies. He thereupon iſſued out ſtrict Orders, not to admit our Lover on any pretence whatſoever. What Torments muſt this occaſion in the raging feaver of Love! Martin had now recourſe to Stratagem, and by a Bribe (which of⯑ten even the Ermine and Scarlet Robe cannot reſiſt) gain'd the Dwarf who [116] kept the gates of the Show-room, to promote his Amour. He promis'd to convey a Letter to Lindamira the ſame evening, if he would bring it him when darkneſs favour'd his deſign, at the apartment next the Monſters. Mar⯑tin overjoy'd, haſted home, and after having conſulted all the Authors that treat of Love, compoſed his Billet⯑doux, and at the time appointed went to entruſt it to the hands of his Confi⯑dent. Softly he ſtole up ſtairs, approach'd the door, and gave a gentle rap; when on a ſudden a ſmall hand was thruſt through a little hole at the bottom of the door, whence iſſued an unintelli⯑gible, ſqueaking voice. Martin con⯑cluding it to be the Signal, delivered his Epiſtle, and made his retreat unob⯑ſerv'd. He was no ſooner retir'd, but Mr. Randal enter'd, and (as it was his uſual cuſtom before he went to bed) took a view if all were ſafe in the Show-room. At his coming in, he ſaw his Monkey exceedingly buſy in picking the Seal-wax by little bits from a Letter, which he turn'd over and o⯑ver [117] with infinite ſatisfaction. Mr. Randal, not thinking it a breach of honour to pry into the ſecrets of his own family, took the Letter from him, and read as follows.

The Dwarf enter'd as he was read⯑ing the Letter, and perceiving his Ma⯑ſter mov'd with paſſion, immediately fell on his knees and confeſs'd the whole affair. Mr. Randal bent on re⯑venge, cauſed him to haſten to Mar⯑tin's houſe, with aſſurances that Lin⯑damira had read his Letter with infinite ſatisfaction, and conjured him that he would immediately favour her eſcape. Martin overjoy'd at the news, flew thi⯑ther on the Wings of Love. The per⯑fidious Dwarf conducted him up ſtairs in the dark, gently open'd the door, [119] and bad him enter. How happy was Martin in that inſtant, who thought of nothing but leaping into the four ſoft arms of his Miſtreſs! when lo, on a ſudden he ſaw at the further end of the Room two glitt'ring balls of Fire, which roll'd to and fro in a moſt terri⯑ble manner. Immediately his ears were invaded with horrid hiſſings and ſpit⯑tings, the balls of Fire drew nearer him, and the noiſe redoubled as he ap⯑proach'd. Our Philoſopher bold and reſolute with love, ventur'd towards it; when all at once he perceiv'd ſomething graſp him hard by the throat, and fix as it were ſharp lances in his cheek, ſo that blood trickled amain down his chin. Thrice Martin eſſay'd to free himſelf, but vain were all his endeavours: till at length, to ſave his life, he was for⯑ced to betray his Intrigue, and alarm the houſe with reiterated cries of Mur⯑der. The apartment of the Bohemian Beauties being the adjoining Room, they were the firſt that enter'd with a light to his aſſiſtance. Martin all bloody as he was, a moſt fierce Cat-a-moun⯑tain [120] hanging at his chin, (which Mr. Randal had maliciouſly placed there on purpoſe) at the ſight of Lindamira forgot his diſtreſs. Ah, my Love! (he cry'd) how like is thy fate to that of Thiſbe! who ſtaying but a moment too late, found, as ſhe thought, her miſe⯑rable Lover torn in pieces by a Savage beaſt! The affrighted Damſels ſkriek'd aloud, Mr. Randal with all his Reti⯑nue ruſh'd into the room, and now e⯑very hand conſpired to free his under⯑jaw from the ſharp teeth of the enraged-Monſter. But the Lady, whoſe heart melted at the piteous Spectacle, was ſo zealous in this office of Humanity, that the Cat-a-mountain, provok'd at her good-natur'd diligence, leap'd furiouſly on her, and wounded three of her hands and her two noſes, to ſuch a barbarous degree that ſhe was not fit to be ſhown publickly for the ſpace of three weeks. The generous Lover, more wounded at this Spectacle than at all the ſcratches he had himſelf receiv'd, charg'd the monſter again with the utmoſt Intre⯑pidity, and reſcued his mangled Miſtreſs. [121] Then (having taken her by the hand, and given it a gentle graſp) he retreated with his eye fixed upon her, and juſt as he left the room (in a low and ten⯑der Accent) thus breath'd forth his Soul. Behold, all this have I ſuffered for you.

Such, and ſo modeſt was the firſt Declaration of Love, made on this e⯑minent occaſion by our youthful Philo⯑ſopher. Nor was it ungently receiv'd by the ſimple and innocent Lindamira; who hitherto unus'd to the ſoft Proteſ⯑tations of adoring Slaves, had rather been wonder'd at than belov'd; and re⯑ceiv'd but imperfect notions of that ten⯑der language, from the Addreſſes only of the black Prince or the Dwarf.

Martin, notwithſtanding this unfor⯑tunate adventure, ſtill purſued his wiſhes. His Letters were now no more intercepted. Lindamira read them, and behav'd like other courte⯑ous dames when they receive thoſe a⯑morous Teſtimonials; conceal'd them from her Guardian, and return'd the moſt engaging anſwers. In ſhort, ſhe [122] was ſo far captivated, as to reſolve no longer to be gaz'd at like a publick Beauty in her own Aſſembly; but re⯑tire from the world, and become the virtuous Miſtreſs of a Family.

But Fate had ſo ordain'd, that Mar⯑tin was not more enamoured on Lin⯑damira, than Indamora was on Martin. She, jealous that her Siſter had the greateſt ſhare in this conqueſt, reſented that an equal application had not been made to herſelf. She teiz'd Lindami⯑ra to ſuch a degree on this ſubject, as made her promiſe to ſee Martin no more. But then again might Indamo⯑ra be deem'd the unhappieſt of Women, whom her Paſſion and Imprudence had robb'd of the ſight of her Lover. Yet ſhame cauſed her to conceal thoſe anxi⯑eties from her Siſter. And let the Rea⯑der judge how unhappy the Nymph muſt be, who was even depriv'd the univerſal Relief of a Soliloquy. How⯑ever, thus ſhe thought, without being allow'd to tell it to any Grove or pur⯑ling Stream.

[123] Wretched Indamora! if Lindamira muſt never more ſee Martin, Martin ſhall never again bleſs the eyes of In⯑damora: Yet why do I ſay wretched? ſince my Rival can never poſſeſs my Lover without me. The pangs that others feel in Abſence, from the thought of thoſe Joys that bleſs their Rivals, can never ſting thy boſom; nor can they mortify thee by making thee a Witneſs, without giving thee at the ſame time a ſhare of their Endear⯑ments. Change then thy proceeding, Indamora; thy Jealouſy muſt act a new and unheard-of part, and promote the intereſt of thy Rival, as the only way to the enjoyment of thy Lover.

From that moment ſhe ſtudied by all methods to advance her Siſter's Amour, and in that her own. And thus there appeared in theſe three Lovers as ex⯑traordinary a Conjunction of Paſſions as of Perſons: Love had reconcil'd himſelf to his mortal foes, to Philoſo⯑phy in Martin, and to Jealouſy in Inda⯑mora.

[124] And now flouriſh'd the Amour of Martin; Succeſs even prevented his wiſhes; the Marriage was agreed on, and the day appointed. Sunday was the time when Mr. Randal's Abſence favour'd their hopes, who never on that day, omitted taking the freſh air in the fields: The key of the door he always took with him. Crambe was ready laid at a convenient diſtance, who ac⯑commodated them with a ladder of ropes. The ladder was thrown up, and the Signal given at the window. Lin⯑damira haſten'd to the Alarm of Love, when behold a new Diſaſter! As ſhe was getting out of the window, the weight of her body on one ſide, and that of Indamora's on the other, un⯑luckily cauſed them to ſtick in the mid⯑way: Lindamira hung with her coats ſtript up to the navel without, and In⯑damora in no leſs immodeſt poſture within. The Manteger, who for his gentleneſs was allowed to walk at large in the houſe, was ſo heighten'd at this ſight, that he ruſh'd upon Indamora like a barborous Raviſher. Indamora [125] cry'd aloud for help. Martin flew to revenge this inſolent attempt, of a Rape on his wedding-day. The luſtful Mon⯑ſter, driv'n from our double Lucrece, fled into the middle of the room, pur⯑ſued by the valorous and indignant Martin. Three times the hot Mante⯑ger, frighted at the furious menaces of his Antagoniſt, made a circle round the chamber, and three times the ſwift-footed Martin purſued him. He caught up the Horn of a Unicorn, which lay ready for the entertainment of the cu⯑rious ſpectator, and brandiſhing it over his head in airy circles, hurl'd it againſt the hairy ſon of Hanniman; who wrinkling his brown forehead, and gnaſhing his teeth in indignation, ſtoop'd low: The horny Lance juſt raz'd his left ſhoulder, and ſtuck into the tapeſtry hangings. Provok'd at this the grinning Offspring of Hanniman caught up the pointed Horn of an An⯑telope, and aim'd a blow againſt his un⯑diſmay'd Adverſary. Our heroic Lo⯑ver, who held his hat before him like a ſhield, receiv'd the weapon full on [126] the Crown; it pierc'd the beaver, and gave a ſmall rent to his breeches. Then the human Champion flung with mighty violence the hinder foot of an Elk, which hit the beſtial Combatant full on the nether jaw. He reel'd, but ſoon recovering, and his ſkill in war lying rather in the cloſe fight than in projectile weapons, he endeavour'd to cloſe with him: Forthwith aſſailing him behind unawares, he clamber'd up his back, and pluck'd up by the roots a mighty graſp of hair—but Martin ſoon diſmounted him, and kept him at a diſtance. Love not only in⯑ſpired his breaſt with Courage, but gave double ſtrength to his ſinews; he heav'd up the hand of a prodigious Sea-Mon⯑ſter; which when the chatt'ring Cham⯑pion beheld, he no leſs furious, wielded the pond'rous Thigh-bone of a Giant. And now they ſtood oppos'd to each other, like the dread Captain of the ſevenfold Shield and the redoubted Hector. The Thigh-bone miſs'd its aim; but the hand of the Sea-Mon⯑ſter deſcended directly on the head of [127] the Sylvian Raviſher. The Monſter chatter'd horribly; he ſtretch'd his quiv'ring limbs on the floor; and eter⯑nal ſleep lock'd faſt his eyelids.

The Lady from the window, like another Helen from the Trojan wall, was witneſs of the Combat cauſed by her own beauty. She ſaw with what gracefulneſs her Hero enter'd the Liſts, admir'd his activity and courage in the combat, and was a joyful witneſs of his Triumph: She gave a ſpring from the window, and with open arms and legs embraced the neck and ſhoulders of her Champion. Our Philoſopher receiv'd her with his face turn'd mo⯑deſtly from her, and in that manner convey'd her into the ſtreet. He call'd a Chair with all haſte, but no chairman would take her; which oblig'd him to bear his extraordinary burden till he found a Coach, in which he carried her off, and was happily united to her that very evening, by a Reverend Cler⯑gyman in the Fleet, in the holy Bands of Matrimony.

CHAP. XV.
Of the ſtrange, and never to be paral⯑lell'd Proceſs at Law upon the Mar⯑riage of Scriblerus, and the Plead⯑ings of the Advocates.

BUT Nemeſis, who delights in tra⯑verſing the beſt-laid deſigns of Cupid, maliciouſly contrived the means to make theſe three Lovers unhappy. No ſooner had the Maſter of the Show receiv'd notice of their flight, but he ſeiz'd on the Bohemian Ladies by a Warrant; and not content with having recover'd the Poſſeſſion of them, re⯑ſolv'd to open all the Sluices of the Law upon Martin. So he inſtantly went to Council to adviſe upon all poſ⯑ſible methods of revenge.

The firſt point he proceeded on was the Property of his Monſter, and the queſtion propounded was, ¹ ‘" Whe⯑ther [129] Slaves could marry without the conſent of their Maſter?"’ To this he was anſwer'd in the Affirmative, but told at the ſame time, ‘" That ² the Marriage did not exempt them from Servitude."’

This put him in no ſmall hopes of having Martin added to his Show, and acquiring a property in his Bodily iſſue by the Ladies. But his joy was ſoon daſh'd, when he was inform'd, that ſince Martin was a Free Man, ³ ‘" The children muſt follow the con⯑dition of the Father: or, that in⯑deed, if they were to follow that of their Mother, the Caſe would be the ſame, there being no ſlavery in Eng⯑land."’

Then his Counſel judg'd it more ad⯑viſeable to plead for a Diſſolution of the Marriage, upon the impoſſibility of Conjugal dues in the Wife. But then the Canon Law allow'd a Triennal Co⯑habitation, which entirely ruin'd this [130] Project alſo. Beſides it was evident by the ſame Law, that ‘" Monſtroſity could not incapacitate from Marriage,"’ witneſs the Caſe of Hermaphrodites, who are allow'd ‘" Facultatem Conjugii, provided they make Election before the Pariſh Prieſt, in what ſex they will act, and take an Oath never to perform in the other capacity." ¹’

It was next conſulted whether Mar⯑tin ſhould not be permitted to take a⯑way his Wife? ſince upon his ſo doing ‘" he might be ſued for a Rape upon the body of her Siſter, there being plainly the four conditions of a ² Rape."’ But then again they conſi⯑der'd, that Martin might anſwer he claim'd nothing but his own; and if another perſon had fix'd herſelf to his Wife, he muſt not for that cauſe be debarr'd the uſe of his Property.

Yet ſtill, upon the ſame head of Martin's poſſeſſing his ſpouſe, a Suit might be devis'd in the name of Lin⯑damira, [131] on this account; ³ That a ‘" Wife was not oblig'd to live with a Concubine, and ſuch her Siſter Inda⯑mora muſt be accounted to Martin from the common ⁴ Proofs."’ To this too it was reply'd, that the Law order'd the Wife to reſide with the Huſ⯑band if there were ſufficient ſecurity given to expel the Concubine. So Martin might ſay he was ready to ac⯑compliſh his part of the Covenant, if his wife would perform hers, and con⯑ſent to the ⁵ Inciſion. But this be⯑ing an impoſſibility on the ſide of the Wife, it could no way be exacted of the Huſband.

At length Mr. Randal, being vext at the heart, to have been ſo long and ſo quaintly diſappointed, determin'd to commence a Suit againſt Martin for Bigamy and Inceſt. Mean while he left no Artifice or Addreſs untry'd to [132] perplex the unhappy Philoſopher: He even contriv'd with infinite cunning, to alienate Indamora's affections from him; and debauch'd her into an Intrigue with a Creature, of his own, the black Prince; whom he ſecretly caus'd to marry her, while her Siſter was aſleep.

Hereupon Martin was reduc'd to turn Plaintiff, and commenc'd a Suit in the Spiritual Court againſt the black Prince, for Cohabitation with his ſaid wife. He was advis'd to inſiſt upon a new Point, (viz.) ‘" That Lindamira and Indamora together made up but one lawful wife."’

The Monſter-maſter, further to di⯑ſtreſs Martin, forc'd Lindamira to pe⯑tition for Aliment, lite pendente: which was no ſooner allow'd her by the Court, but he oblig'd her to alledge, that ‘" it was not ſufficient to maintain both herſelf and her Siſter; and if her Siſter periſh'd, ſhe could not live with the dead body about her."’

Martin now began to repent that he had not executed a reſolution he for⯑merly conceiv'd, of marrying Crambe [133] to Indamora, as an Expedient to have made all ſecure. Moreover, it was in⯑ſiſted on, that the other alſo had a right to Aliment, ‘" becauſe if Martin's Wife ſhould prove with child, the ſaid Siſter muſt neceſſarily perform the Offices of a wife, in contributing to the Nutrition and Geſtation of the ſaid child."’ A Jury of Phyſicians being impannel'd, declar'd, that as to Nutrition they were doubtful, whether any blood of Lindamira circulated through Indamora: But as to Geſtati⯑on, it was evidently true. And upon this, Martin was order'd to allow Ali⯑ment to both, the Black Prince appear⯑ing inſolvent.

Then the Court proceeded to the Trial. And as both the Cauſe and the Pleadings are of an extraordinary Nature, we think ſit here to inſert them at length.

Dr. Penny-feather thus pleaded for Martinus Scriblerus the Plaintiff.

Dr. Penny-feather having thus end⯑ed his Pleading, was thus anſwer'd by

The Jury of Matrons having made their Report, and it appearing from thence that the Parts of Generation in Lindamira and Indamora were diſtinct; the Judge took time to deliberate, and the next Court-Day he ſpoke to this effect.

This Sentence pleas'd neither Party; and Martin appeal'd from the Conſiſto⯑ry to the Court of Arches; but they con⯑firm'd the Sentence of the Conſiſtory.

It was at laſt brought before a Com⯑miſſion of Delegates; who, having weigh'd the Caſe, revers'd the Sentence of the inferior Courts, and diſannull'd the marriage, upon the following Rea⯑ſons: ‘" That allowing the manner of Cohabitation enjoin'd to be practi⯑cable, (though highly inconvenient) yet the Jus petendi & reddendi De⯑bitum conjugale being at all times e⯑qual [151] in both huſbands and both wives, and at the ſame time impoſſible in more than one; Two perſons could not have a Right to the entire poſſeſſion of the ſame thing, at the ſame time; nor could one ſo enjoy his property, as to debar another from the uſe of his, who has an equal right. So much as to the Debitum petendi, and as to the Debitum red⯑dendi, nemo tenetur ad impoſſibile."’

Therefore the Lords, with great Wiſ⯑dom, diſſolv'd both Marriages, as pro⯑ceeding upon a natural, as well as legal Abſurdity.

CHAP. XVI.
Of the Seceſſion of Martinus, and ſome Hints of his Travels.

THIS affair being thus unhappily terminated, and become the whole Talk of the Town; Martinus, unable to ſupport the Affliction, as well as to avoid the many diſagreeable Con⯑ſequences, [152] reſolv'd to quit the King⯑dom.

But we muſt not here neglect to mention, that during the whole Courſe of this Proceſs, his continual Atten⯑dance on the Courts in his own Cauſe, and his invincible Curioſity for all that paſt in the Cauſes of others, gave him a wonderful inſight into this Branch of Learning, which muſt be confeſt to have been ſo improved by the Moderns, as beyond all compariſon to exceed the Ancients. From the day his firſt Bill was filed, he began to collect Reports; and before his Suit was ended, he had time abundantly ſufficient to compile a very conſiderable Volume. His Anger at his ill ſucceſs caus'd him to deſtroy the greateſt part of theſe Reports; and only to preſerve ſuch, as diſcover'd moſt of the Chicanery and Futility of the practice. Theſe we have ſome hopes to recover, if they were only miſlaid at his Removal; if not, the world will be enough inſtructed to lament the loſs, by the only one now publick, viz. The Caſe of Stradling and Stiles, in an [153] Action concerning certain black and white Horſes.

We cannot wonder that he contrac⯑ted a violent Averſion to the Law, as is evident from a whole Chapter of his Travels. And perhaps his Diſappoint⯑ment gave him alſo a Diſ-inclination to the Fair Sex, for whom on ſome oc⯑caſions he does not expreſs all the Re⯑ſpect and Admiration poſſible. This doubtleſs muſt be the Reaſon, that in no part of his Travels we find him be⯑lov'd by any ſtrange Princeſs; nor have we the leaſt account that he ever relaps'd into this Paſſion, except what is mention'd in the Introduction, of the Spaniſh Lady's Phenomenon.

It was in the year 1699 that Martin ſet out on his Travels. Thou wilt certainly be very curious to know what they were? It is not yet time to inform thee. But what hints I am at liberty to give, I will.

Thou ſhalt know then, that in his firſt Voyage he was carry'd by a proſ⯑perous Storm, to a Diſcovery of the [154] Remains of the ancient Pygmaean Em⯑pire.

That in his ſecond, he was as happily ſhipwreck'd on the Land of the Giants, now the moſt humane people in the world.

That in his third Voyage, he diſ⯑cover'd a whole Kingdom of Philoſo⯑phers, who govern by the Mathematicks; with whoſe admirable Schemes and Projects he return'd to benefit his own dear Country, but had the misfortune to find them rejected by the envious Miniſters of Queen Anne, and himſelf ſent treacherouſly away.

And hence it is, that in his fourth Voyage he diſcovers a Vein of Melan⯑choly proceeding almoſt to a Diſguſt of his Species; but above all, a mortal Deteſtation to the whole flagitious Race of Miniſters, and a final Reſolution not to give in any Memorial to the Se⯑cretary of State, in order to ſubject the Lands he diſcover'd to the Crown of Great Britain.

Now if, by theſe hints, the Reader can help himſelf to a further diſcovery [155] of the Nature and Contents of theſe Travels, he is welcome to as much light as they afford him; I am oblig'd by all the tyes of honour not to ſpeak more openly.

But if any man ſhall ever ſee ſuch very extraordinary Voyages, into ſuch very extraordinary Nations, which ma⯑nifeſt the moſt diſtinguiſhing marks of a Philoſopher, a Politician, and a Legi⯑ſlator; and can imagine them to belong to a Surgeon of a Ship, or a Captain of a Merchant-man, let him remain in his Ignorance.

And whoever he be, that ſhall fur⯑ther obſerve, in every page of ſuch a book, that cordial Love of Mankind, that inviolable Regard to Truth, that Paſſion for his dear Country, and that particular attachment to the excellent Princeſs Queen Anne; ſurely that man deſerves to be pity'd, if by all thoſe vi⯑ſible Signs and Characters, he cannot diſtinguiſh and acknowledge the Great Scriblerus.

CHAP. XVII.
Of the Diſcoveries and Works of the Great Scriblerus, made and to be made, written and to be written, known and unknown.

AND here it ſeems but natural, to lament the unfortunate End of the Amour of our Philoſopher. But the Hiſtorian of theſe Memoirs on the contrary cries out, ‘" Happy, thrice happy day! which diſſolved the Marriage of the great Scriblerus! let it be celebrated in every lan⯑guage, learned and unlearned! let the Latin, the Greek, the Arabian, the Coptic; let all the Tongues of many⯑languag'd men, nay of Animals, be employ'd to reſound it! ſince to this we owe ſuch immenſe diſcoveries, not only of Oceans, Continents, Iſ⯑lands, with all their Inhabitants, minute, gigantick, mortal, and im⯑mortal; but thoſe yet more enlarged [157] and aſtoniſhing Views, of worlds philoſophical, phyſical, moral, intel⯑ligible, and unintelligible!"’

Here therefore, at this great Period, we end our firſt Book. And here, O Rea⯑der, we entreat thee utterly to forget all thou haſt hitherto read, and to caſt thy eyes only forward, to that bound⯑leſs Field the next ſhall open unto thee; the fruits of which (if thine, or our ſins do not prevent) are to ſpread and mul⯑tiply over this our work, and over all the face of the Earth.

In the mean time, know what thou oweſt, and what thou yet may'ſt owe, to this excellent Perſon, this Prodigy of our Age; who may well be called The Philoſopher of Ultimate Cauſes, ſince by a Sagacity peculiar to himſelf, he hath diſcover'd Effects in their very Cauſe; and without the trivial helps of Experi⯑ments, or Obſervations, hath been the Inventor of moſt of the modern Syſtems and Hypotheſes.

He hath enrich'd Mathematicks with many preciſe and Geometrical Quadratures of the Circle. He firſt [158] diſcover'd the Cauſe of Gravity, and the inteſtine Motion of Fluids.

To him we owe all the obſervations on the Parallax of the Pole-Star, and all the new Theories of the Deluge.

He it was, that firſt taught the right uſe ſometimes of the Fuga Vacui, and ſometimes of the Materia Subtilis, in reſolving the grand Phaenomena of Na⯑ture.

He it was, that firſt found out the Palpability of Colours; and by the de⯑licacy of his Touch, could diſtinguiſh the different Vibrations of the hetero⯑geneous Rays of Light.

His were the Projects of Perpetuum Mobiles, Flying Engines, and Pacing Saddles; the Method of diſcovering the Longitude, by Bomb-Veſſels, and of in⯑creaſing the Trade-Wind by vaſt plan⯑tations of Reeds and Sedges.

I ſhall mention only a few of his Philoſophical and Mathematical Works.

• 1. A compleat Digeſt of the Laws of Nature, with a Review of thoſe that are obſolete or repealed, and of thoſe [159] that are ready to be renew'd and put in force.
• 2. A Mechanical Explication of the Formation of the Univerſe, according to the Epicurean Hypotheſis.
• 3. An Inveſtigation of the Quantity of real Matter in the Univerſe, with the proportion of the ſpecifick Gravity of ſolid Matter to that of fluid.
• 4. Microſcopical Obſervations of the Figure and Bulk of the conſtituent Parts of all fluids. A Calculation of the proportion in which the Fluids of the earth decreaſe, and of the period in which they will be totally exhauſted.
• 5. A Computation of the Duration of the Sun, and how long it will laſt before it be burn'd out.
• 6. A Method to apply the Force a⯑riſing from the immenſe Velocity of Light to mechanical purpoſes.
• 7. An anſwer to the queſtion of a curious Gentleman; How long a New Star was lighted up before its appear⯑ance to the Inhabitants of our earth? To which is ſubjoin'd a Calculation, how much the Inhabitants of the Moon [160] eat for Supper, conſidering that they paſs a Night equal to fifteen of our natural days.
• 8. A Demonſtration of the natural Dominion of the Inhabitants of the Earth over thoſe of the Moon, if ever an intercourſe ſhould be open'd be⯑tween them. With a Propoſal of a Partition-Treaty, among the earthly Potentates, in caſe of ſuch diſcovery.
• 9. Tide-Tables, for a Comet, that is to approximate towards the Earth.
• 10. The Number of the Inhabitants of London determin'd by the Reports of the Gold-finders, and the Tonnage of their Carriages; with allowance for the extraordinary quantity of the Ingeſta and Egeſta of the people of England, and a deduction of what is left under dead walls, and dry ditches.

It will from hence be evident, how much all his Studies were directed to the univerſal Benefit of Mankind. Numerous have been his Projects to this end, of which Two alone will be ſuf⯑ficient to ſhow the amazing Grandeur [161] of his Genius. The firſt was a Propo⯑ſal, by a general contribution of all Princes, to pierce the firſt cruſt or Nu⯑cleus of this our Earth, quite through, to the next concentrical Sphere: The advantage he propos'd from it was, to find the Parallax of the Fixt Stars; but chiefly to refute Sir Iſaac Newton's Theory of Gravity, and Mr. Halley's of the Variations. The ſecond was, to build Two Poles to the Meridian, with immenſe Light-houſes on the top of them; to ſupply the defect of Nature, and to make the Longitude as eaſy to be calculated as the Latitude. Both theſe he could not but think very prac⯑ticable, by the Power of all the Poten⯑tates of the World.

May we preſume after theſe to men⯑tion, how he deſcended from the ſu⯑blime to the beneficial parts of Know⯑ledge, and particularly his extraordinary practice of Phyſick. From the Age; Complexion, or Weight of the perſon given, he contrived to preſcribe at a diſ⯑ [...]ance, as well as at a Patient's bed-ſide. He taught the way to many mo⯑dern [162] Phyſicians, to cure their Patients by Intuition, and to others to cure with⯑out looking on them at all. He projec⯑ted a Menſtruum to diſſolve the Stone, made of Dr. Woodward's Univerſal Deluge-water. His alſo was the device to relieve Conſumptive or Aſthmatick perſons by bringing freſh Air out of the Country to Town, by pipes of the nature of the Recipients of Air-pumps: And to introduce the Native air of a man's country into any other in which he ſhould travel, with a ſeaſonable In⯑tromiſſion of ſuch Steams as were moſt familiar to him; to the inexpreſſible comfort of many Scotſmen, Laplan⯑ders, and white Bears.

In Phyſiognomy, his penetration is ſuch, that from the Picture only of any perſon, he can write his Life; and from the features of the Parents, draw the Portrait of any Child that is to be born.

Nor hath he been ſo enrapt in theſe Studies, as to neglect the Polite Arts of Painting, Architecture, Muſick, Poetry, &c. It was he that gave the [163] firſt hint to our modern Painters, to improve the Likeneſs of their Portraits by the uſe of ſuch Colours as would faithfully and conſtantly accompany the Life, not only in its preſent ſtate, but in all its alterations, decays, age, and death itſelf.

In Architecture, he builds not with ſo much regard to preſent ſymmetry or conveniency, as with a Thought well worthy a true lover of Antiquity, to wit, the noble effect the Building will have to poſterity, when it ſhall fall and become a Ruin.

As to Muſick, I think Heidegger has not the face to deny that he has been much beholden to his Scores.

In Poetry, he hath appear'd under a hundred different names, of which we may one day give a Catalogue.

In Politicks, his Writings are of a peculiar Caſt, for the moſt part Iro⯑nical, and the Drift of them often ſo delicate and refin'd as to be miſtaken by the vulgar. He once went ſo far as to write a Perſuaſive to people to eat their own Children, which was ſo [164] little underſtood as to be taken in ill part. He has often written againſt Liberty in the name of Freemen and Algernoon Sydney, in vindication of the Meaſures of Spain under that of Ra⯑leigh, and in praiſe of Corruption under thoſe of Cato, and Publicola.

It is true, that at his laſt departure from England, in the Reign of Queen Anne, apprehending leſt any of theſe might be perverted to the Scandal of the weak, or Encouragement of the flagitious, he caſt them all, without mercy, into a Bog-houſe near St. James's. Some however have been with great diligence recover'd, and fiſh'd up with a hook and line by the Miniſterial Writers, which make at preſent the great Ornaments of their works.

Whatever he judg'd beneficial to Mankind, he conſtantly communica⯑ted (not only during his ſtay among us, but ever ſince his abſence) by ſome method or other in which Oſtentation had no part. With what incredible Modeſty he conceal'd himſelf, is known [165] to numbers of thoſe to whom he ad⯑dreſs'd ſometimes Epiſtles, ſometimes Hints, ſometimes whole Treatiſes, Ad⯑vices to Friends, Projects to Firſt Mi⯑niſters, Letters to Members of Parlia⯑ment, Accounts to the Royal Society, and innumerable others.

All theſe will be vindicated to the true Author, in the Courſe of theſe Memoirs. I may venture to ſay they cannot be unacceptable to any, but to thoſe, who will appear too much con⯑cern'd as Plagiaries, to be admitted as Judges. Wherefore we warn the pub⯑lick, to take particular notice of all ſuch as manifeſt any indecent Paſſion at the appearance of this Work, as Per⯑ſons moſt certainly involved in the Guilt.