XXII

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XXII

The learned Bishop Hall, I mean the famous Dr.¬†Joseph Hall, who was Bishop of Exeter in King James the FirstвАЩs reign, tells us in one of his Decads, at the end of his divine art of meditation, imprinted at London, in the year 1610, by John Beal, dwelling in Aldersgate-street, вАЬThat it is an abominable thing for a man to commend himself;вАЭвБ†вЄЇвБ†and I really think it is so.

And yet, on the other hand, when a thing is executed in a masterly kind of a fashion, which thing is not likely to be found out;вБ†вАФI think it is full as abominable, that a man should lose the honour of it, and go out of the world with the conceit of it rotting in his head.

This is precisely my situation.

For in this long digression which I was accidentally led into, as in all my digressions (one only excepted) there is a masterstroke of digressive skill, the merit of which has all along, I fear, been overlooked by my reader,вБ†вАФnot for want of penetration in him,вБ†вАФbut because вАЩtis an excellence seldom looked for, or expected indeed, in a digression;вБ†вАФand it is this: That though my digressions are all fair, as you observe,вБ†вАФand that I fly off from what I am about, as far, and as often too, as any writer in Great Britain; yet I constantly take care to order affairs so that my main business does not stand still in my absence.

I was just going, for example, to have given you the great outlines of my uncle TobyвАЩs most whimsical character;вБ†вАФwhen my aunt Dinah and the coachman came across us, and led us a vagary some millions of miles into the very heart of the planetary system: Notwithstanding all this, you perceive that the drawing of my uncle TobyвАЩs character went on gently all the time;вБ†вАФnot the great contours of it,вБ†вАФthat was impossible,вБ†вАФbut some familiar strokes and faint designations of it, were here and there touchвАЩd on, as we went along, so that you are much better acquainted with my uncle Toby now than you was before.

By this contrivance the machinery of my work is of a species by itself; two contrary motions are introduced into it, and reconciled, which were thought to be at variance with each other. In a word, my work is digressive, and it is progressive too,вБ†вАФand at the same time.

This, Sir, is a very different story from that of the earthвАЩs moving round her axis, in her diurnal rotation, with her progress in her elliptick orbit which brings about the year, and constitutes that variety and vicissitude of seasons we enjoy;вБ†вАФthough I own it suggested the thought,вБ†вАФas I believe the greatest of our boasted improvements and discoveries have come from such trifling hints.

Digressions, incontestably, are the sunshine;вБ†вЄЇвБ†they are the life, the soul of reading!вБ†вАФtake them out of this book, for instance,вБ†вАФyou might as well take the book along with them;вБ†вАФone cold eternal winter would reign in every page of it; restore them to the writer;вБ†вАФhe steps forth like a bridegroom,вБ†вАФbids All-hail; brings in variety, and forbids the appetite to fail.

All the dexterity is in the good cookery and management of them, so as to be not only for the advantage of the reader, but also of the author, whose distress, in this matter, is truly pitiable: For, if he begins a digression,вБ†вАФfrom that moment, I observe, his whole work stands stock still;вБ†вАФand if he goes on with his main work,вБ†вАФthen there is an end of his digression.

вЄЇвБ†This is vile work.вБ†вАФFor which reason, from the beginning of this, you see, I have constructed the main work and the adventitious parts of it with such intersections, and have so complicated and involved the digressive and progressive movements, one wheel within another, that the whole machine, in general, has been kept a-going;вБ†вАФand, whatвАЩs more, it shall be kept a-going these forty years, if it pleases the fountain of health to bless me so long with life and good spirits.