 father had got advanced almost
into the middle of his work. - Like all other writers, he met with
disappointments. - He imagined he should be able to bring whatever he had to
say, into so small a compass, that when it was finished and bound, it might be
rolled up in my mother's hussive. - Matter grows under our hands. - Let no man
say, - »Come - I'll write a duodecimo.«
    My father gave himself up to it, however, with the most painful diligence,
proceeding step by step in every line, with the same kind of caution and
circumspection (though I cannot say upon quite so religious a principle) as was
used by John de la Casse, the lord archbishop of Benevento, in compassing his
Galatea; in which his Grace of Benevento spent near forty years of his life; and
when the thing came out, it was not of above half the size or the thickness of a
Rider's Almanack. - How the holy man managed the affair, unless he spent the
greatest part of his time in combing his whiskers, or playing at primero with
his chaplain, - would pose any mortal not let into the true secret; - and
therefore 'tis worth explaining to the world, was it only for the encouragement
of those few in it, who write not so much to be fed - as to be famous.
    I own had John de la Casse, the archbishop of Benevento, for whose memory
(notwithstanding his Galatea) I retain the highest veneration, - had he been,
Sir, a slender clerk - of dull wit - slow parts - costive head, and so forth, -
he and his Galatea might have jogged on together to the age of Methusalah for
me, - the phænomenon had not been worth a parenthesis. -
    But the reverse of this was the truth: John de la Casse was a genius of fine
parts and fertile fancy; and yet with all these great advantages of nature,
which should have pricked him forwards with his Galatea, he lay under an
impuissance at the same time of advancing above a line and an half in the
compass of a whole summer's day: this disability in his Grace arose from an
opinion he was afflicted with, - which opinion was this, - viz. then whenever a
Christian was writing a book (not for his private amusement, but) where his
intent and purpose was bonâ fide, to print and publish it to the world, his
first thoughts were always the temptations of the evil one. - This was the state
of
