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Works into Books and Chapters to be none of the leaft confiderable. Now for want of being truly acquainted with this Secret, common Readers imagine, that by this Art of dividing, we mean only to fwell our Works to a much larger Bulk than they would otherwise be extended to. These several Places therefore in our Paper, which are filled with our Books and Chapters, are underftood as fo much Buckram, Stays, and Stay-tape in a Taylor's Bill, ferving only to make up the Sum Total, commonly found at the Bottom of our first Page, and of his laft.

But in reality the Cafe is otherwife, and in this, as well as all other Inftances, we confult the Advantage of our Reader, not our own; and indeed many notable Ufes arife to him from this Method: for first, thofe little Spaces between our Chapters may be looked upon as an Inn or Refting-Place, where he may ftop and take a Glass, or any other Refreshment, as it pleases him. Nay, our fine Readers will, perhaps, be fcarce able to travel farther than through one of them in a Day. As to those vacant Pages which are placed between our Books, they are to be regarded as thofe Stages, where, in long Journeys, the Traveller ftays fome time to repofe himself, and confider of what he hath feen in the Parts he hath already past through; a Confideration which I take the Liberty to recommend a little to the Reader: for however swift his Capacity may be, I would not advise him to travel through these Pages too fast: for if he doth, he may probably miss the seeing fome curious Productions of Nature which will be obferved by the flower and more accurate Reader. A Volume without any fuch Places of Rest resembles the Opening of Wilds or Seas,

which

Book II. which tires the Eye and fatigues the Spirit when entered upon.

Secondly, what are the Contents prefixed to every Chapter, but fo many Infcriptions over the Gates of Inns (to continue the fame Metaphor) informing the Reader what Entertainment he is to expect, which if he likes not, he may travel on to the next: for in Biography, as we are not tied down to an exact Concatenation equally with other Hiftorians; so a Chapter or two (for Inftance this I am now writing) may be often paffed over without any Injury to the Whole. And in these Infcriptions I have been as faithful as poffible, not imitating the celebrated Montaigne, who promises you one thing and gives you another; nor fome Title-Page Authors, who promife a great deal, and produce nothing at all.

There are, befides these more obvious Benefits, feveral others which our Readers enjoy from this Art of dividing; tho' perhaps moft of them too myfterious to be presently understood by any who are not initiated into the Science of Authoring. To mention therefore but one which is most obvious, it prevents spoiling the Beauty of a Book by turning down its Leaves, a Method otherwife necef-fary to those Readers, who (tho' they read with great Improvement and Advantage) are apt, when they return to their Study, after half an Hour's Abfence, to forget where they left off.

These Divifions have the Sanction of great Antiquity. Homer not only divided his great Work into twenty-four Books, (in Compliment perhaps to the twenty-four Letters to which he had very particular Obligations) but, according to the Opinion of fome very fagacious Critics, hawked them all feparately, delivering only one Book at a time, (probably

(probably by Subscription.) He was the first Inventor of the Art which hath fo long lain dormant, of publishing by Numbers; an Art now brought to fuch Perfection, that even Dictionaries are divided and exhibited piece-meal to the Publick; nay, one Bookfeller hath (to encourage Learning and eafe the Public) contrived to give them a Dictionary in this divided manner, for only fifteen Shillings more than it would have coft entire.

Virgil hath given us his Poem in twelve Books, an Argument of his Modefty; for by that doubtlefs he would infinuate that he pretends to no more than half the Merit of the Greek: for the fame Reason, our Milton went originally no farther than ten; 'till being puffed up by the Praise of his Friends, he put himself on the fame footing with the Roman Poet.

I fhall not however enter fo deep into this Matter as fome very learned Criticks have done ; who have with infinite Labour and acute Difcernment discovered what Books are proper for Embellishment, and what require Simplicity only, particularly with regard to Similies, which I think are now generally agreed to become any Book but the firft.

I will difmifs this Chapter with the following Obfervation: That it becomes an Author generally to divide a Book, as it does a Butcher to joint his Meat, for fuch Affiftance is of great Help to both the Reader and the Carver. And now having indulged myself a little, I will endeavour to indulge the Curiofity of my Reader, who is no doubt impatient to know what he will find in the fubfequent Chapters of this Book.

VOL. I.

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С НА Р. II.

A furprizing Inftance of Mr. Adams's fort Memory, with the unfortunate Confequences which is brought on Jofeph.

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R. Adams and Jofeph were now ready to depart different Ways, when an Accident determined the former to return with his Friend, which Tow-woufe, Barnabas, and the Bookfeller had not been able to do. This Accident was, that those Sermons, which the Parfon was travelling to London to publifh, were, O my good Reader, left behind; what he had miftaken for them in the Saddle-bags being no other than three Shirts, a Pair of Shoes, and fome other Neceffaries, which Mrs. Adams, who thought her Hufband would want Shirts more than Sermons on his Journey, had carefully provided him.

This Discovery was now luckily owing to the Prefence of Jofeph at the opening the SaddleBags; who having heard his Friend fay, he carried with him nine Volumes of Sermons, and not being of that Sect of Philofophers, who can reduce all the Matter of the World into a Nutfhell, feeing there was no room for them in the Bags, where the Parfon had faid they were depofited, had the Curiofity to cry out, Blefs me,

Sir, where are your Serinons?' The Parfon anC fwer'd, There, there, Child, there they are, under my Shirts.' Now it happened that he had taken forth his last Shirt, and the Vehicle remained vifibly empty. Sure, Sir,' fays Jofeph, there is nothing in the Bags.' Upon which

Adams

99 Adams starting, and teftifying fome Surprize cry'd, Hey! fie, fie upon it; they are not here fure enough. Ay, they are certainly left • behind.'

Jofeph was greatly concerned at the Uneafinefs which he apprehended his Friend must feel from this Difappointment: He begged him to purfue his Journey, and promised he would himself return with the Books to him, with the utmoft Expedition. No, thank you, Child,' answered Adams, it fhall not be fo. What would it avail 6 me, to tarry in the Great City, unless I had · my Difcourfes with me, which are, ut ita di

cam, the fole Cause, the Aitia monotate of my • Peregrination. No, Child, as this Accident

hath happened, I am refolved to return back to · my Cure, together with you; which indeed my Inclination fufficiently leads me to. This Difappointment may perhaps be intended for my Good. He concluded with a Verfe out of Theocritus, which fignifies no more than, that fome times it rains, and fometimes the Sun fhines.'

Fofeph bowed with Obedience, and Thankfulnefs for the Inclination which the Parfon exprefs'd of returning with him; and now the Bill was called for, which, on Examination, amounted within a Shilling to the Sum Mr. Adams had in his Pocket. Perhaps the Reader may wonder how he was able to produce a fufficient Sum for fo many Days: that he may not be furprized therefore, it cannot be unneceffary to acquaint him, that he had borrowed a Guinea of a Servant belonging to the Coach and Six, who had been formerly one of his Parishioners, and whose Mafter, the Owner of the Coach, then lived within three Miles of him for fo good was the Credit

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