The last _Criticism_ the _Advertiser_ mentions, is, That _in these _Memoirs_ there are several Persons, Eminent both for their Station and Quality, and some of them still alive, treated with so much Freedom, and so little Ceremony_. This in my slender Judgment, appears a more extraordinary Objection, than the other two. For I had ever imagined, that the very _Ratio formalis_ of a good History, or Memoirs, had been the _Truth_ of them, which it is impossible should ever appear without _great Freedom_, and _little Ceremony_, either to the Persons they represent, or concerning the Actions they relate. And this in my Opinion, gives the great and general Esteem that is deservedly put upon the Memoirs of _Philip de Comines_, whose Stile seems very mean and vulgar, but his _Freedom_ great, and _Ceremony_ very little, either with those two Great Princes that were his Masters, or in any Account he gives of Actions, or of Persons, tho many of these were probably alive at the time of Writing or Publishing these _Memoirs_. But in truth since his time, his Method has been very little pursued, and more is the pity, since it has made so much room, and so unworthily, for the fulsome Flatteries, and nauseous Panegyricks of so many Books or Prefaces as have over-run the Press in our Age; which not only endeavour to put Shams and Cheats upon Mankind; but are, I doubt, of great Mischief to the Interests and Concernments of those Countries where they grow. For let the _Criticks_ say what they please against writing Story with _too much Freedom_, and _too little Ceremony_, I am a little disposed to believe, That if there were more such _Authors_, there would not be so many such _Actors_, as have been so often seen upon the Publick Stages of the World; who, like Rooks when they are gotten to the Top-branches of great Trees, think only of building their own Nests as high as they can, and feathering them as well as they can, without any care how the Tree thrives under them, or whether by their Muting and Fluttering about, they spoil the Branches and Leaves of that Tree it self where they were bred, or found shelter. Peradventure such Actors would not have plaid such Parts upon the Stage, if they had not trusted to the Disguises and Masks they were in, or had suspected they would be pull'd off by some _plain, rough hand_, either while the Play lasts, or as soon as 'tis ended. For men are seldom so harden'd, as to grow totally careless of their Names, and their Memories, after they are dead, tho they may hope to escape while they are alive. * * * * *