A Tale of a Tub | Page 8

to a reasonable compass, and then I'll engage we shall have room enough
for us all."
There are certain common privileges of a writer, the benefit whereof I hope there will be
no reason to doubt; particularly, that where I am not understood, it shall be concluded
that something very useful and profound is couched underneath; and again, that whatever
word or sentence is printed in a different character shall be judged to contain something
extraordinary either of wit or sublime.
As for the liberty I have thought fit to take of praising myself, upon some occasions or
none, I am sure it will need no excuse if a multitude of great examples be allowed
sufficient authority; for it is here to be noted that praise was originally a pension paid by
the world, but the moderns, finding the trouble and charge too great in collecting it, have
lately bought out the fee-simple, since which time the right of presentation is wholly in
ourselves. For this reason it is that when an author makes his own eulogy, he uses a
certain form to declare and insist upon his title, which is commonly in these or the like
words, "I speak without vanity," which I think plainly shows it to be a matter of right and
justice. Now, I do here once for all declare, that in every encounter of this nature through
the following treatise the form aforesaid is implied, which I mention to save the trouble
of repeating it on so many occasions.
It is a great ease to my conscience that I have written so elaborate and useful a discourse
without one grain of satire intermixed, which is the sole point wherein I have taken leave
to dissent from the famous originals of our age and country. I have observed some
satirists to use the public much at the rate that pedants do a naughty boy ready horsed for
discipline. First expostulate the case, then plead the necessity of the rod from great
provocations, and conclude every period with a lash. Now, if I know anything of
mankind, these gentlemen might very well spare their reproof and correction, for there is
not through all Nature another so callous and insensible a member as the world's
posteriors, whether you apply to it the toe or the birch. Besides, most of our late satirists
seem to lie under a sort of mistake, that because nettles have the prerogative to sting,
therefore all other weeds must do so too. I make not this comparison out of the least
design to detract from these worthy writers, for it is well known among mythologists that
weeds have the pre-eminence over all other vegetables; and therefore the first monarch of

this island whose taste and judgment were so acute and refined, did very wisely root out
the roses from the collar of the order and plant the thistles in their stead, as the nobler
flower of the two. For which reason it is conjectured by profounder antiquaries that the
satirical itch, so prevalent in this part of our island, was first brought among us from
beyond the Tweed. Here may it long flourish and abound; may it survive and neglect the
scorn of the world with as much ease and contempt as the world is insensible to the
lashes of it. May their own dulness, or that of their party, be no discouragement for the
authors to proceed; but let them remember it is with wits as with razors, which are never
so apt to cut those they are employed on as when they have lost their edge. Besides, those
whose teeth are too rotten to bite are best of all others qualified to revenge that defect
with their breath.
I am not, like other men, to envy or undervalue the talents I cannot reach, for which
reason I must needs bear a true honour to this large eminent sect of our British writers.
And I hope this little panegyric will not be offensive to their ears, since it has the
advantage of being only designed for themselves. Indeed, Nature herself has taken order
that fame and honour should be purchased at a better pennyworth by satire than by any
other productions of the brain, the world being soonest provoked to praise by lashes, as
men are to love. There is a problem in an ancient author why dedications and other
bundles of flattery run all upon stale musty topics, without the smallest tincture of
anything new, not only to the torment and nauseating of the Christian reader, but, if not
suddenly prevented, to the universal spreading of that pestilent disease the lethargy in this
island, whereas there is very little satire which has not something in it untouched before.
The defects of the former