The Holy State, Book 3 · Chapter 11
CHAP. 11. Of Phancie.
IT is an inward Sense of the soul, for a while retaining and examining things brought in thither by the Common sense. It is the most boundles and restlesse faculty of the soul: for whilest the Understanding and the Will are kept as it were in Libera Custodia to their objects of Verum & Bonum, the Phancie is free from all engagements: it digs without spade, sails without ship, flies without wings, builds without charges, fights without bloudshed, in a moment striding from the centre to the circumference of the world, by a kind of omnipotencie creating and annihilating things in an instant; and things divorced in Nature are married in Phancie as in a lawlesse place. It is also most restlesse: whilest the Senses are bound, and Reason in a manner asleep, Phancie like a sentinell walks the round, ever working, never wearied. The chief diseases of the Phancie are, either that they are too wild and high-soaring, or else too low and groveling, or else too desultory and overvoluble. Of the first.
If thy Phancie be but a little too rank, Maxime 1age it self will correct it. To lift too high is no fault in a young horse, because with travelling he will mend it for his own ease. Thus lofty Phancies in young men will come down of themselves, and in processe of time the overplus will shrink to be but even measure. But if this will not do it, then observe these rules.
Take part alwayes with thy Iudgement against thy Phancie in any thing wherein they shall dissent. 2If thou suspectest thy conceits too luxuriant, herein account thy suspicion a legall conviction, and damne whatsoever thou doubtest of. Warily Tullie, Bene monent, qui vetant quicquam facere, de quo dubitas, aequum sit an iniquum.
Take the advise of a faithfull friend, 3and submit thy inventions to his censure. When thou pennest an oration, let him have the power of Index expurgatorius, to expunge what he pleaseth; and do not thou like a fond mother crie if the child of thy brain be corrected for playing the wanton. Mark the arguments and reasons of his alterations, why that phrase least proper, this passage more cautious and advised, and after a while thou shalt perform the place in thine own person, and not go out of thy self for a censurer. If thy Phancie be too low and humble,
4Let thy judgement be King but not Tyrant over it, to condemne harmlesse yea commendable conceits. Some for fear their orations should giggle will not let them smile. Give it also liberty to rove, for it will not be extravagant. There is no danger that weak folks if they walk abroad will straggle farre, as wanting strength.
5Acquaint thy self with reading Poets, for there Phancie is in her throne; and in time the sparks of the Authours wit will catch hold on the Reader, and inflame him with love, liking, and desire of imitation. I confesse there is more required to teach one to write then to see a coppy: however there is a secret force of fascination in reading Poems to raise and provoke Phancie. If thy Phancie be over voluble, then
6Whip this vagrant home to the first object whereon it should be settled. Indeed nimblenesse is the perfection of this faculty, but levity the bane of it. Great is the difference betwixt a swift horse, and a skittish, that will stand on no ground. Such is the ubiquitary Phancie, which will keep long residence on no one subject, but is so courteous to strangers that it ever welcomes that conceit most which comes last; and new species supplant the old ones, before seriously considered. If this be the fault of thy Phancie, I say whip it home to the first object, whereon it should be settled. This do as often as occasion requires, and by degrees the fugitive servant will learn to abide by his work without running away.
Acquaint thy self by degrees with hard and knotty studies, 7as School-divinity, which will clog thy overnimble Phancie. True, at the first it will be as welcome to thee as a prison, and their very solutions will seem knots unto thee. But take not too much at once, lest thy brain turn edge. Taste it first as a potion for Physick, and by degrees thou shalt drink it as beer for thirst: Practice will make it pleasant. Mathematicks are also good for this purpose: If beginning to try a Conclusion, thou must make an end, lest thou losest thy pains that are past, and must proceed seriously and exactly. I meddle not with those Bedlam-phancies, all whose conceits are antiques, but leave them for the Physician to purge with hellebore.
To clothe low-creeping matter with high-flown language is not fine Phancie, 8but flat foolerie. It rather loads then raises a Wren, to fasten the feathers of an Estridge to her wings. Some mens speeches are like the high mountains in Ireland, having a durty bog in the top of them; the very ridge of them in high words having nothing of worth, but what rather stalls then delights the Auditour.
Fine Phancies in manufactures invent engines rather pretty then usefull; 9and commonly one trade is too narrow for them. They are better to project new wayes then to prosecute old, and are rather skilfull in many mysteries then thriving in one. They affect not voluminous inventions, wherein many years must constantly be spent to perfect them, except there be in them variety of pleasant employment.
Imagination (the work of the Phancie) hath produc'd reall effects. 10Many serious and sad examples hereof may be produced: I will onelyonly insist on a merry one. A Gentleman having led a company of children beyond their usuall journey, they began to be weary, and joyntly cried to him to carry them; which because of their multitude he could not do, but told them he would provide them horses to ride on. Then cutting little wands out of the hedge as nagges for them, and a great stake as a gelding for himself, thus mounted Phancie put mettall into their legs, and they came cheerfully home.
11Phancie runs most furiously when a guilty Conscience drives it. One that owed much money, and had many Creditours, as he walked London-streets in the evening, a tenterhook catch'd his cloak. At whose suit? said he, conceiving some Bailiff had arrested him. Thus guilty Consciences are afraid where no fear is, and count every creature they meet a Serjeant sent from God to punish them.