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THE
FOUR AGES;
TOGETHER WITH
ESSAYS
VARIOUS SUBJECTS.
BY
WILLIAM JACKSON,
Of EXETER.
LONDON:
FOR CADELL AND DAVIES, IN THB STRANP,
ADVERTISEMENT:.
1 HE greatejl part of thefe E/ays jhould be
conjidered as Sketches for a Periodical Paper,
which was once intended for publication they
are, in conference, upon familiar fubjecls, and
treated as fuck The Four- Ages, and other
Pieces (eajily diftinguiflied) made no part of
the above defign ; but though lefs. proper for a
Paper, they are more fo for a Book, which may
be confidered as an addition to the THIRTY
LETTERS already publi/hed by the fame Author.
ERRATA.
534389
ERRATA.
Page 148, line i, for profe/ed read pqffe/ed,
,74., 7> for faculty read facility.
299, 17, after into read the.
THE FOUR AGES.
JL HE Ancients, as Ovid elegantly
mews in his Metamorphofis, held, that
the different ftates of fociety were aptly
exprefTed by being termed the Golden
Age, the Silver, the Brazen, and the
Iron
Aurea prima fata eft ./Etas, &c.
fubiit argentea Proles
Auro deterior, fulvo pretiofior ^Ere, &c.
Tertia poft illas fufcepit abenea Proles,
Ssevior ingeniis, &c.
1 " de duro eft ultima ferro.
METAM. LIB. i.
They conceived that the firft ftate of
man was fuperior to all fucceeding ftates,
as gold is beyond other metals j that the
B fecond
- [ 2 ]
fecond Age had as much degenerated
from the perfection of the firft, as the
value of filver is below gold ; that the
third was fo far removed from primitive
excellence, as to deferve the appellation
of the Brazen- Age ; and that the fourth,
unhappily for us, is the laft ftate of de-
generacy, and deferves no better epithet
than what the cheaper! and moft worth-
lefs metal afforded. We then live in
the Iron- Age.
' '?:. ?",? f'
In compliance with a cuftom fanctioned
by fuch early antiquity, I mall make ufe
of the fame terms, and call the diffe-
rent Ages by the names of the four me-
tals, which, if not very elegant, are ex-
premve enough of the meaning. But,
in direct contradiction to the opinion of
the ancients, and perhaps of the moderns,
I mail, in treating this fubjecl:, invert
the order, and endeavour to prove, that
the firft was the Iron-Age, and the laft,
when it fliall pleafe Heaven to fend it,
will
t 3 ]
will be that of Gold no Golden-Age
having yet exiiled, except in the imagi-
nation of poets.
But to avoid being mifunderftood, it is
neceflary to premife, that the different
ftates of mankind do not depend upon
A. M. or A. U. C. or A. D. for, in
the firfl year of our aera, Italy was re-
fined, and England barbarous -, and in
the eighteenth century, fome nations
have attained a point of perfection un-
known to all which have preceded, while
others are ftill unenlightened and igno-
rant. It is not then from the age of the
world, but from the age of fociety, that
the dates in this eflay are computed.
All works, whether of art or literature,
long iince produced, are ancient, as far
as time only is concerned. But if we
mean to diftinguifh between elegant and
barbarous antiquity, it is neceflary to
confider in what flate of fociety the works
B 2 were
[ 4 ]
were produced. The want of this dif-
tinction has been of great diflervice to
the polite arts, and given a falfe direc-
tion to a good principle. At the revival
of the arts in Italy, architects, painters,
and fculptors ftudied the remains of an-
cient Rome as fpecimens of their art car-
ried in an enlightened age to the height
of perfection. The Roman Antiquities
then are valuable, becaufe they are the
productions of artifts who porTelTed all
the knowledge of an advanced flate of
fociety ; but the Saxon and Gothic An-
tiquities, tho' juftly objeds of curiofity,
and even of admiration, are ftill the re-
mains of fociety in its infancy, and there-
fore barbarous and falfe.
Nothing is more common than finding
in nations widely feparated, a refem-
.blance of manners and euftoms ; * from
whence
* " Meet Highlanders near Montauban like
thofe in Scotland." YOUNG.
f 5 1
whence it is concluded, that they for-
merly have had fome connection, and
that one has borrowed from the other ;
as the Egyptians from the Chinefe, or
the reverfe -, nay, the Englim from the
Eaft Indians.* The cuftom of marking
the fkin in figures was as much pradtifed
by our anceflors in Britain, as by the
modern inhabitants of Otaheitee : -f- and
Robert
* " From Tartary the Hindoo Religion proba-
bly fpread over the whole earth ; there are figns of
it in every northern country, and in almoft every
fyftem of worfhip : in England it is obvious ;
Stonehenge is evidently one % of the Temples of
Boodh; and the arithmetic, the aftronomy, the
holidays, games, &c. ancient monuments, laws,
and even languages of the different nations, have
the ftrongeft marks of the fame original. The
worfhip of the fun and fire ; human and animal fa-
crifices, &c. have apparently once been univerfal."
ASIATIC RESEARCHES.
f To which may be added, the North-American
Indians, of whom Bartram fays, " their head,
neck, and breaft are painted with vermillion (co-
lour) and fome of the warriors have the fkin of
the breaft, and mufcular parts of the body very
B 3 curioufly
[ 6 ]
Robert Drury's account of the practice of
ftealing cattle in Madagafcar, differs in
no circumilance from the Journal of a
Focray, headed by Sir T. Carleton; as
given in the Introduction to the Survey
of the Lakes in the North of England.
It has puzzled hiftorians to account for
this connection, which in moffc inflances
is difficult, and in many, impomble. By
adopting the idea, which it is partly the
intention of this efTay to eftablifh, that
man, in the fame fbge of fociety, is
every where much alike ; * and that ig-
norance
curioufly infcribed, or adorned with hieroglyphick
fcrolls, flowers, figures of animals, &c. they prick
the fkin with a needle, and rubbing in a blueifh
tint it lafts for life."
* " The Egyptian, Hindoo, Moorifh, and Go-
thic Architecture, inftead of being copies of each
other, are a&ually the fame the fpontaneous
produce of genius in different countries, the ne-
ceflary effe&s of fimilar neceffity and materials."
HODGES.
The
[ 7 ]
norance of the arts, or knowledge of
them, marks the character of ancient and
modern flates of nations the difficulty
vanimes.
A great refemblance may be obferved
between fome characters and adventures
in the Arabian Tales, and fome in the
old
The following quotation is of more modern ap-
plication. * It is highly probable that many
ceorls and burgefles, who dwelt in or near the
place where a wittenagemot was held, attended
as intercflcd fpe&ators, and intimated their fatisf ac-
tion with its refolves by Jhzuts of applaufe omnique
populo audiente et vidente aliorumque fidelium
infinita multitudo qui omnes laudaverunt"
HARDY.
Tliis is a juft pi&ure of the National Conven-
tion of France, and evidently fhews, that by re-
verting to firft principles, they have alfo reverted
to barbarifin.
The Mufcogulges (a favage nation in North-
America) have the game of hurling, fo veryJike
that of Cornwall, that the defcription of one would
ferve for the other.
B 4
t 8 ]
old Pro verbal Romances. There is no
reafon for fuppofing that the works of
either reached the other. Imagine only
that fociety was in the fame ftate in both
countries, and it naturally accounts for a
famenefs of character and incident,
The tumuli called, by the common
people in the weftern counties, barrows,
are to be found in every part of Europe,
and even of Tartary. Before the art of
building with flone exifled, or when it
coft more than early ages could afford,
the moft natural monument, in any coun-
try, over a man who deferved remem-
brance, was a heap of earth. To this
day, barrows are fhewn in Greece, as
the tombs of Homer's heroes,
It would not be eafy to trace any con-
nection between the modern Irifh and
the ancient Greeks and Romans ; yet,
the former have, and the latter had, the
fame cuflom of howling over the dead.
The
[ 9 ]
The lamentations over He&or's corpfe
in Homer, and over Dido's in Virgil ;
which the latter calls Ululatus, fcarce
differ from the Ulaloo of the Irifh. It is
faid by a learned traveller, " that the
Irifh are ftill in poflefTion of certain cuf-
toms utterly relinquimed by the other
nations of Europe" if fo, then it proves
that they are flill in a ftate of fociety
which is congenial to fuch manners and
cuftoms, and that other nations have loft
them becaufe they are advanced into
another Age.
Let thefe few inftances fuffice to efta-
blifh my portion ; they might be much
increafed if more were neceflary,
The firft of the four Ages then, is man
in his favage ftate, wherever found, and
at whatever period -, the fecond is when
he has made fome progrefs towards civi-
lization ; the third is the ftate in which
we are at prefent ; and the fourth is that
to
[ 10 ]
to which we are approaching, if no un-
fortunate event arrives to cut off our
golden hopes.*
To
* There is no determinate point in which one
Age ends, and another begins ; the former takes by
degrees the colour and caft of that which is to fuc-
ceed, and the latter Age for fome time may pre-
ferve part of the barbarifm and prejudices of the
preceding. Thus fome circunvftances in the Iron
and Brazen-Age may belong to either the end,
alfo, of the Brazen, and the beginning of th Silver
Age, may intermix with each other.
Perhaps, the Silver-Age fhewed fome faint be-
ginnings in England, during the reign of Queen
Elizabeth it continued to make a progrcfs until
the civil wars, when the times had quite the cha-
rafter of the Brazen-Age, or worfe. Upon the
refloration we advanced again, and have fince
been increafing in velocity towards perfection,
like a comet as it approaches the fun. This image
is rather too fublime for my purpofe. The motion
of a comet is regular and uninterrupted ; but there
are many circumftances perpetually in the way of
improvement, by which it is retarded partially,
tho' it cannot be altogether obftru&ed. I have
elfewhere touched on this fubjeft.
[ 11 ]
To form a proper idea of man in his
primitive flate, it is necefTary to throw
off all the refinements that the invention
and cultivation of the arts and fciences
have beftowed on fociety, and (hew what
beings we are in a flate of nature.* And
this is different according to the climate
and productions of the country in which
we live. Thus, in the> s Tropical Ifles,
tho' the natural flate is ignorant and bar-
barous,
* If this were the Hate of our firft parents, it
could not be a very defirable one, according to
the poet,
Quand la Nature etoit dans fon enfance
Nos bons ai'eux vivoient dans 1'ignorance -
*****
Mon cher Adam, mon gourmand, mon bon Pere,
Que faifois-tu dans les Jardins d'Eden ?
Travaillois-tu pour ce fot genre humain ?
Careffois-tu Madame Eve ma Mere ?
Avouez-moi que vous aviez tous deux
Les ongles longs, un peu noirs et crafTeux,
La chevelure affez mal ordonnee,
Le teint bruni, la peau bife et tannee, &c.
VPLTAIRZ,
[ .2 ]
barous, yet the people feem to be happy :
but in Staten-land and Terra del fuego,
ignorance and barbarifm take a favage
caft, and the inhabitants have an appear-
ance of wretchednefs and want, which is
unknown in happier climates.
But there is even yet a lower ftate of
human life that of the Jblitary favage,
(for fociety in its worft ftate is better
than none) a few fuch beings have been
known to us : within this century a lad
was caught in Germany, and a girl in
France, both of whom had run wild from
their infancy. Thefe are fcarce worthy
of any rank even in the Iron-age, and
were fome degrees below a domefticated
dog or cat.
The chara&eriiKcs of the Iron -Age
feem to be thefe :
1 Violence
As there is no principle to reftrain the
firft impulfe of defire, whether it be to
eat,
[ '3 1
cat, or kill, or to attain any other pur-
pofe, a man in this Age muft naturally
rufh n to the point propofed, regardlefs
of impediments or confequences. If
food be in his reach, he eats voracioufly >
if the enemy be in his power, he gluts
his vengeance by every circumftance of
cruelty. The cuftoms of the North-
American favages are well known, and
too horrid for quotation, I will therefore
give an inftance from another people, of
that violence which is the prominent cha-
ra&eriftic of favage life. " The more
important the caufe that calls them to
arms, the more greedy they are of death.
Neither the bravery, nor the number of
their adverfaries can at all intimidate
them : it is then they fwear to deftroy the
fun. They difcharge this terrible oath
by cutting the throats of their wives and
children, burning all their poffeffions,
and rufhing madly into the midft of their
enemies!" Said of the Koriacs by DC
Lefleps.
A
A want of great focieties
The inhabitants even of a fmall ifland
are feldom under one chief their firft
ftep towards the Brazen- Age, is the melt-
ing down of many little fcates to make a
large one.
An ignorance of all the arts and fci-
ences
Except thofe which are immediately
necefTary for ornamenting the perfon*
procuring food covering and weapons
for each individual.
An abfence of all religious ideas
Of
* People in this ftatc of fociety confider orna-
ment as of the fifft confequence. Nothing can
fliew the efteem in which it is held more, than
the great bodily pain they endure in order to be
beautiful. Boring of nofes, ears, lips, &c. punc-
turing the ikin to make flourilhes on it, and other
cuftoms of this fort, are more or lefs praftifed by
all unformed people in every country and cli-
mate.
t '5 1
Of courfe, no worfhip of a fuperior
being, or belief of a future exiftence.-f-
Selfifhnefs
As this quality is ftrongeft in the foli-
tary favage, and is nearly extinguished in
the laft ftate of fociety, we muft fuppofe
it to be very powerful in the Iron- Age,
and in fact we find it fo. Savages feek
food, &c. for themfelves only> unlefs
forced to procure it for their fuperiors :
few
f It lias been faid, there are no people fo rude,
but have fome religious worfhip but this is not
true man in the Iron- Age, which we are now
defcribing, has invariably been found untinftured
with any principle of gratitude to the deity for
bleffings received ; of hope, for bleffings to come ;
or of fear, for laws tranfgreffed. When Warbur-
ton, in his Divine Legation of Mofes, aflerted,
that all nations worfhipped fomething or other, and
believed in future rewards and punifhments ; one
of his adverfaries brought the Hottentots as an in-
ftance to the contrary both were right. The af-
fertion was taken from man in his fecond ftage of
fociety ; but the objection, from man in his favage
ftate.
[ I6 ]
few inftances occur of their parting with
any thing from a principle of kind-
nefs.
A want of curiofity
That is for fuch things as are far be-
yond any to which they are accuftomed.
Thus, they do not conlider a {hip as an
object of attention ; but a canoe much
larger, or more adorned than they have
been ufed to fee, would attract their
notice.* ^L,
I 4lave already remarked/ that in the
fame Age, one people may be civilized,
and another, barbarous : to which muft
be added, that thefe different ftates of
fociety exift in the fame country at the
fame time, according to the different
s**t fituations or employment of the inhabi-
tants.
* Moft of thefe charafteriftics are taken from
defcriptions of favage people, by the late voyagers,
who found them in the fame ftate of fociety, tho*
in different countries.
[ 17 1
tants. Thus a mere ruflic in England,
who never faw any other affemblage of
houfes or people than the neighbouring
village or church prefented, is as it were
extinguished in the capital -, but his cu-
riofity would be excited, and highly gra-
tified by a fair, or a cathedral church*
In a fair are more people, more cattle,
and a greater difplay of finery than he
ufually meets with ; but it is all of that
kind for which his ideas are already pre-
pared. The fame may be faid of the ca-
thedral he considers it as his own vil-
lage church upon a grander fcale. But
an habitual exercife of the judgment is
required to comprehend an idea, greatly
fuperior to common exertion, as in the
inflance of the (hip abovementioned : and
it belongs to a cultivated flate of the
mind to admit an idea perfectly new.
Whenever it happens that a people in
the Iron-Age have abated of perfonal
violence, have made fome attempts, haw-
C ever
ever imperfect, towards art and fcience,
that they entertain religious ideas, and
are curious in obfervation and enquiries,
they are then getting forward into the
Brazen-Age.
We may confider the Brazen- Age as
that ftate of fociety when people begin
to refufe immediate gratifications for fu-
ture convenience.
Very few advances from the favage
ilate are necefTary for a Koriac, fome-
times to feel the want of help from a
wife whom he had killed in his fury
to find that if he had not gorged himfelf
yefterday, he might have had fomething
to eat to day. Thefe fenfations, often
repeated, at laft produce a reflraint upon
his inclination, and he finds that it is
for his intereft, fome times to refift imme-
diate gratification. -./
When a greater number of people are
aflbciated together than in the Iron- Age.
If
[ 19 i
If in the quarrels of individuals, re^
peated victory happen to the fame per-
fon, he naturally becomes a chief When
chiefs difpute, if one frequently gets the
better of others, he becomes mafter of
an extent of country ; which, from the
fame train of caufes and effects upon a
larger fcale, at laft makes him a king;
this is the origin of defpotifm, which
undoubtedly is the moil natural and
ancient of all governments.* If this
king,
* And defpotifm, fooner or later, produces li-
berty Extraordinary ads of cruelty committed
by a weak Prince, give the firft hint for making off
his authority His fubjefts rebel and conquer.
They then make terms with their Prince, and
oblige him to govern upon principles dictated by
themfelves, as in the cafe of King John ;' or refolve
to have no Prince, and fo become a Republic, as
formerly in England, and latterly in France And
this is the origin of all free governments. But as
in the avoiding of one extreme, we naturally run
into the other A Republic, which fucceeds to
defpotifm, is little better than no government at
all, by perfonal liberty being puflied to excefs.
C 2 This
[ 20 ]
king, at his death, leave a fon of fuffi-
cient age and underftanding to continue
his father's confequence, he naturally
fucceeds j if not, the brother, or fome
other relative has a fair pretence to the
fuccefTion And this was the cafe in Eng-
land during the Saxon Heptarchy, and is
fo even now with all Aliatic Govern-
ments, which ftrongly marks them to be
ftill in the Brazen- Age.
All private difputes between man and
man are carried on and terminated more
by
This gives an opportunity for fome one man of
abilities to take the lead, as in the inftance of
Cromwell. As defpotifm produces liberty, liberty
in its turn may revert to defpotifm, which was
nearly the cafe in the reign of James the fecond.
The people then perceive, that the beft way to
avoid the inconveniencies of either fyftem, is by
having a Stadtholder or Duke as in Holland and
Venice, a Prefident as in the United States, a Di-
relory as in modern France, or by a limited Mo-
narchy, fuch as now eftablimed in England by the
Revolution of 1688, which, with all its faults, is
the moft perfeft conftitution yet exifting.
C ]
by force than reafon. Bargains, promi-
fes, and even oaths themfelves are kept
or broken according to convenience.*
Cruelty
Tho' not under the fame violent form
as in the Iron- Age, yet exifts in its full
force. K. John burns out the eyes of
Arthur ; a practice that has ever obtained
in the defpotic Mahometan governments.
I fhall not flain my paper with many
examples from the numberlefs inftances
which our hiflories furnifh : but fome-
thing muft be produced to prove my af-
fertion. Permit me then juft to mention
a circumilance in the death of the Duke
of York, (father of Edward the fourth)
when
* The intercourfe which our fettlements in
India have lately had with the native princes of
that country, affords many inftances of this charac-
teriftic Perhaps Tippoo Sultan's frequent breach
of promife and treaty, is more owing to the flate
of fociety in which he lives, than to his having a
bad heart.
when Margaret and her afTociates gave
him " a clout dipp'd in the blood of
pretty Rutland, to dry his eyes withal."
And at leaft one hundred and fifty years
later, after the Silver- Age had begun to
dawn on us, when a bifhop with his own
hand tortured a beautiful young woman
for denying tranfubftantiation, or fome
fuch reafonable caufe. Even in the
reign of Charles the firft (fo long is
this favage quality in wearing out) the
fentences of the flar-chamber breathe
the cruelty, tho' not the ferocity of the
moft barbarous Age. For writing a book,
which at this time would fcarce be deemed
offenfive, the fentence was (which I
abridge from Rum worth) imprifonment
for life a fine of ten thoufand pounds
degraded -whipt let in the pillory
one ear cut oflf one fide of the nofe flit
branded on the cheek whipt and pil-
loried again, and the other part of the
fentence repeated. This unfortunate
gentleman (adds my author) was well-
known
known for his learning and abilities,
&c.
Folly, cruelty, and fuperftition make
up their religion and laws.
The historical part of all religions
framed in this ftate of fociety, in which
the actions of the deity are recorded,
feems too abfurd for ferious obfervation
and the idea that we muft torment
ourfelves in order to become acceptable
to a being, whom we term the God of
mercy, has occalioned too much mifery
to be ridiculed. The whims of holy
fuperftition are too numerous for the
flighteft mention j many volumes might
be filled with the nonfenfe which every
country holds facred, from China round
the Globe to America. I mail not quote
any well-known legend, but to avoid
offence take an inftance from the reli-
gious code of Abyflinia. " Hagiuge-
Magiuge are little people not fo big as
bees or flies of Sennaar, that come in great
C 4 fwarrns
fwarms out of the earth : two of their
chiefs are to ride upon an afs, and every
hair of that afs is to be a pipe, and every
pipe is s to play a different kind of mufic,
and all that hear and follow them are
carried to Hell." I do not extract this
as being more abfurd than Afiatic or Eu-
ropean belief, but there is a whimfical
turn in it which makes it original as well
as ridiculous. To this I will add a quo-
tation from Chardin, upon a fubjeclt partly
religious and partly medical It is a re-
medy for fterility. " The relations of the
woman who is to be cured, lead her from
her houfe to a particular mofque by a
horfe's bridle, which they put upon her
head over her veil. She carries in her
hands a new broom and a new earthen
pot full of nuts.* Thus equipped they
make
* Scattering of nuts was a cuftom at marriages
in ancient Italy and Greece, and what more re-
lates to the pfefent purpofe, made part of the fa-
crifice to Priapus, It is difficult to affign any other
reafon
[ 25 1
make her mount to the top of the Mina-
ret, and as me afcends me cracks upon
each flep a nut, puts it in the pot, and
throws the mell upon the flairs. In de-
fcending {he fweeps the flair-cafe, car-
ries the pot and the broom into the choir
of the mofque, and puts the kernels of
the nuts in the corner of her veil, toge-
ther with fome raifins. She then goes
towards her home and prefents, to fuch
men as me meets, that are agreeable to
her, a few of thefe nuts and raifins, de-
iiring them to eat.* The Perfians firmly
believe that this cures flerility."
Some
reafon for this refemblance between fuch diftant
people, than that it begun when thefe nations were
in the fame ftate of fociety.
* This bufinefs feems very extraordinary to an
enlightened European. We think it ridiculous, and
feel all the folly of a fuperftitious ceremony when
the inftance is new, and wants the aid of cuftom to
eftablifh it. A Turkifh officer taken prifoner in
the late war between Ruffia and the Porte had this
article
[ 26 ]
Some fuperftitions only excite our
pity ; * but there are others which have
cruelty connected with them, and pro-
duce more uneafy fenfations. The mo-
naftic confinement the abiUnence and
flagellations of the Papifts and the vo-
luntary torments endured by the Faquirs,
have all their origin in the Brazen- Age ;
and, fanclified by cuftom, are conti-
nued
article in his journal. " To day I faw a proceffion
In which a woman carried a child to the church
after faying fome prayers, the prieft fprinkled the
child with water this, they told me, made it a
chriftian, and it had this great effeft upon the
child, that if it had died before the ceremony, it
would have been tormented for ever, but if it were
now to die, it would be eternally happy fo great
is the virtue of a few drops of water !"
* And fome excite our ridicule. " Laud, Arch-
bifhop of Canterbury, in a fermon preached before
the Parliament about the beginning of the reign of
Charles the firil, affirms the power of prayer to be
fo great, that though there be a conjundtion or op-
polition of Saturn or Mars, (as there was at that
time, one of them) it would overcome the malig-
nity of it."
AUBREY.
nued when the times are much too en-
lightened to admit of their firft intro-
duction.*
Folly, naftinefs, and fuperftition, con-
ftitute their art of phyfic -
The caufe of diforders is not attributed
to intemperance, or to any deviation
from natural rectitude, but to the moot-
ing of ftars, the appearance of comets,
to fome old woman's evil eye, &c. and
their cure does not depend upon a ra-
tional treatment, but upon fomething
done in the growing of the moon, J upon
verfes
* In May, 1789, a bill was brought into the
Houfe of Lords to repeal the fuperftitious laws of
Elizabeth and James the firft, refpe&ing penalties
for not going to church, &c. the quotations from
thefe afts exhibit a true fpecimen of the religion of
the Brazen-Age.
J " Not even a plant of medicinal ufe, but was
placed under the dominion of fome planet, and muft
neither be gathered nor applied, but with obfer-
ya'nces that favored of the moil abfurd fuperftition."
PULTENEY'S SKETCHES of BOTANY.
verfes recited; or to certain words worn
about the neck, &c. and if medicine is
ufed, it is either fomething very difficult
to be obtained, or fomething too nafty
to be taken. M. Gmelin and his aflb-
ciates who furveyed as philofophers the
Ruffian dominions, fpeaking of the in-
habitants in one of the provinces, fay "a
great number of their medicines, (like
thofe of the old difpenfatories in Europe)
are taken from the animal kingdom. Of
all their remedies of this fort there is
none they hold in fuch high eftimation as
the gall of a creature called Dom, which
is a native of the Altais Mountains and of
Tibet. Human and bear's gall are fcarcely
lefs precious. They think alfo that there
is great virtue in human flefh and fat.
The flefli of a ferpent is eileemed as a
fpecific for bad eyes that of a v/olf for
3. difordered ftomacrr a wolf's tongue
for a fore throat, 6cc."
I
[ 29 ]
" I will give one inftance (fays Pulte-
ney in his Sketches of Botany) from
Apuleius, of that credulity and fuperfti-
tion, which, fandtioned by antiquity, yet
prevailed in the adminiftration of reme-
dies ; and exhibits a melancholy proof of
the wretched ftate of phyfic, which,
through fo many Ages, had not broken
the fhackles of Druidical magic and im-
polition. As a cure for a difeafe called
by the French 1'aiguillette nouee, you
are directed to take Jeven flalks of the
herb lions-foot, feparated from the roots ;
thefe are to be boiled in water in the
wane of the moon. The patient is to
be warned with this water, on the ap-
proach of night, ftanding before the
thremold, on the outfide of his own
houfe ; and the perfon who performs this
office for the lick, is alfo not to fail to
warn himfelf. This done, the fick per-
fon is to be fumigated with the fmoke of
the herb Ariftolochia, and both perfons
are
[ 3 ]
are then to enter the houfe together,
taking ftrict care not to look behind them
while returning after which, adds the
author, the iick will become immediately
well."
Touching for the king's evil perhaps
would ftill have exiiled had the Stuart
family been upon the throne. Even in
the prefent times people crowd about
a dying malefactor to have their faces
ftroaked. But the ftrongeft inilance of
the fuperftition of the Brazen-Age pro-
traded beyond its time, is animal mag-
netifm ; the exiftence and virtue of which
are believed by thoufands, who do not
deferve the honour of living in the pre-
fent flate of fociety. /; //[/e.-cJii^-^e **
-^e
War and fuperftition furnim the prin-
cipal events of their hiftory.
As the elegant arts, philofophy, ma
thematics, and all the train of fciences
do
[ 31 ]
do not exift in the Brazen-Age,* there
is fcarce any fubjed: left for the writers
which
* No doubt, architefture, fculpture, painting,
and mufic, exifted ; but fo very imperfectly, as not
to merit the appellation of elegant arts.
The buildings in this period of fociety are as
much inferior to thofe of the prefent times, as fu~
perior to the wretched huts of the Iron-Age ; in all
inftances except where great exertions are made.
In that cafe, the chara&eriflic of violence (abated,
but not extinguifhed) produces effe&s unknown,
and perhaps unattainable in more polifhed times.
The gothic cathedrals are proofs of this. From
their fize alone they acquire grandeur of effeft,
from the peculiarity of their ftyle of building
they are removed from all common-place ideas,
and from both thefe caufes infpire devotion : they
are ftill an incongruous mafs of abfurdities, and
truly belong to the times in which they were
erected. But, if violence is more the character of
the Iron- Age, why does it not produce fuperior ef-
fets at that time ? It does produce fuch effefts as
are confiflent with the ftate of the human mind at
that period fuch as placing vaft ftones in circles,
or fufpending and balancing them upon points,
crefting pyramids, &c. but it wants fcience for
fuch complicated works as churches, &c.
The
[ 32 ]
which fuch times produce, but that of
war diverfified by its being fometimes
the
The fculpture and painting of the times bear an
incorreft refemblance to the forms they would re-
prefent, and to atone for the want of truth and pro-
portion, are elaborate in trifles.
The mufic, if we are to iudge from what has
reached us, is perfelly without melody and har-
mony, for furely an unmeaning fucceflion of notes
and chords cannot be fo termed. Specimens of
thefe arts are inconvenient to be given ; but, per-
haps the following is an example of what was con-
fidered as elegant oratory at a later period tho'
the fpeaker was Hill in the Brazen-Age.
When Charles the firft arrived at York, in his
expedition to Scotland, the Recorder addrefled him
to this effect " He begged his Majefty's pardon
that they had caufed him (their bright and glorious
fun) to ftand ftill in the city of York ; a place now
fo unlike itfelf ; once an imperial city, where the
Emperor Conftantius Chlorus lived and died, in
whofe grave a burning lamp was found many cen-
turies of years after : a place honoured with the
birth of Conftantine the Great, and with the noble
library of Egbert and afterwards twice burned
and yet the births, lives, and deaths of emperors
are not fo much for the honour of York, as that
King
[ 33 ]
the private quarrels of individuals, and
fometimes an affair of a whole; nation.
In either cafe the ftars, or fome fuperfbi-
tious application, determine the conduct-
ing of the bufmefs j and they rely lefs on
the valour of the combatants, than their
beginning the enterprize in a lucky mo-
ment. Burnet, in his account of the
Prince of Orange's landing at Torbay,
fays,
King Charles was once Duke of York, who had
given them a mofl benign and liberal charter, and
maintains a lamp of juftice there, which burns more
clearly than that found in the grave of Chlorus,
and mines into five feveral countries, by the light
whereof each fubjeft may fee his own right : that
the beams and lightnings of his Majefty's eminent
virtues did caft forcible refleftions upon the eyes of
all men That he had eflabliihed his throne upon
the two columns of piety and juftice. They of-
fered him the beft of facrifices, their obedience,
not refembling thofe out of which the heart was
taken, and nothing of the head left but the tongue ;
for their facrifice was that of their hearts, not of
their tongues.'*
RUSHWORTH.
D
[ 34 ]
fays " The next day being the day in
which the Prince was both born and mar-
ried, he fancied if he could land that day,
it would look aufpicious to the army,
and animate the foldiers but, we all,
who conlidered that the day following
being gun-powder-treafon day, our land-
ing that day might have a good effect on
the minds of the Englifh nation, were
better pleafed to fee that we could land
no fooner."*
A fword bleffed, or enchanted, accord-
ing as the hero is connected with a faint
or a conjurer, renders its edge irrefiflible,
except by armour that is alfo enchanted,
and then the champion who has the moil
powerful patron, is the conqueror.
Thefe
* Robert Drury, in his account of Madagafcar,
informs us, that they were " juft about to begin
an expedition, which was flopped by a pried be-
caufe it was in an unlucky time." I do not know
whether it was the fourth or fifth of November.
1 35 ]
Thefe circumftances ftill characterize,
many nations in Afia, who have not ad-
vanced beyond the Brazen-Age, and they
equally belonged to the moft polifhed
people in Europe before they advanced
into a ftate of refinement. France was
recovered from the Englifh by a virgin-
warrior, whofe arms were for a time ir-
refiftible, and her body invulnerable.
It was very barbarous, fay the French
hiftorians, to burn this damfel it was
fo, but it was the barbarity of the times,
not of the Englifh.
Shakefpeare faithfully copied the Scot-
tifh Hiftorians in Macbeth's Adventure
with the three Witches. ' The Weird
Sifters held their ground long I am not
fure whether even at this time they have
abfolutely loft their exiftence. What the
legiilature thought in the times of James
the firft, is clear by the Ac! againft Witch-
craft there is nothing furprifing in this
r-it is but one circumftance out of many
D 2 which
[ 36 ]
which mark the fuperftition of the age.
But by what means can we poffibly ac-
count for the witches conferTing them-
felves really guilty of the crime for which
they were to fuller ? A crime which ne-
ver exifted, and a confeffion which muft
enfure immediate execution ! *
With
* There was an inftance of this fo late as the
year 1697, when feven people were executed, who
declared themfelves guilty, and that their punifh-
ment was juft. To add to the wonder, I will here
fubjoin the reply of one of the council to another,
who wanted to acquit the prifoners, from the im-
poffibility of the crimes exifting. This found phi-
lofophical argument procured a verdift of guilty
from the jury, a fentence of death from the judge,
and perhaps perfuaded the prifoners themfelves that
they really were witches fo great is the force of
divine eloquence ! " Satan's natural knowledge,"
faid the learned council, " makes him perfefl in
optics and limning, whereby he may eafily bewitch
the eyes of others to whom he intends that his in-
ftruments fhould not be feen in this manner, as
was formerly hinted, viz. he conilri&s the pores of
the witches vehicle which intercepts a part of the
rays
[ 37 1
With a few mifcellaneous remarks,
which might perhaps have been more
properly arranged among the foregoing
heads, I will finim this imperfect fketch
of the Brazen-Age.
Society at this period prefents to our
obfervation a ftruggle between the un-
fubdued ferocity of individuals, and at-
tempts of the chief to make all perfons
amenable to thofe regulations which he
has
rays refle&ing from her body ; he condenfes the in-
terjacent air with grofler meteors blown into it, or
othenvife violently moves it, which drowns ano-
ther part of the rays. And laftly, he obftru&s the
optic nerves with humours ftirred towards them.
All which, joined together, may eafily intercept
the whole rays refle&ing from thofe bodies, fo as
to make no impreffion upon the common fenfe.
And yet, at the fame time, by a refraHon of the
rays, gliding along the fitted fides of the volatile
couch in which Satan tranfports them, and thereby
meeting and coming to the eye, as if there were
nothing interjacent, the wall or chair behind the
fame bodies may be feen," &c. &c. &c.
03
[ 38 J
has pronounced to be laws Nor is it
lefs curious to fee with what greater wil-
lingnefs mankind, in this ftate, fubmif to
fuperftitious ceremonies than to reafon.
Truth is not attempted to be difcovered
by an enquiry into facts, but by fuper-
natural means. A wife accufed of adul-
tery, makes no attempt to prove her
innocence from circumftances, but by
walking barefoot over the burning plow-
mares.* Thievery is to be difcovered
by
* This ancient European cuftom even now pre-
vails in India. In the Afiatic Refearches there are
many inftances of the fiery ordeal being pradlifed
in and about 1784: and one inftance of a perfon's
grafping a red-hot iron ball, unhurt An additional
proof of the natural inhabitants of Indoflan being
flill in the Brazen-Age.
No very accurate obfervation feems neceflary to
know that iron may be hot without changing co-
lour, that a greater degree of heat makes it red,
and by a greater heat ftill, it becomes white But
the fuperftition of the Kaimucs is more than equi-
valent for this truth. They hold that in all ordeal
proofs, iron white-hot, burns lefs than iron red-
* hot.
[ 39 ]
by the turning of the fieve and {hears.
Murder by the corpfe frefh bleeding in
the prefence of the murderer. Stars ap-
pear upon joyful occafions,* and difaf-
trous events are foretold by comets. -j-
Superftition
hot. But why mould I laugh at the Kalmucs ?
With us, it is a common notion, that a tea-kettle
full of boiling water may be fafely refted upon the
naked hand. The faft is, if tire kettle has been
much ufed, and has a thick cruft at the bottom
of condenfed fnioak, it prevents the heated metal
from coming in contaft with the hand ; but if the
kettle be new and clean, it is hotter than the water
it contains in proportion to its fuperior denfity.
* " Prince Charles was born at St. James's a
little before one in the afternoon At his birth, at
that time of day, a flar appeared vifible Some faid
it was the planet Venus, others Mercurjs" &c.
RUSHWORTH.
f " A comet appeared (fays the above hiflorian)
to whofe threatenings a learned knight boldly af-
firmed that England (and not Africa only, as fome
out of flattery would have it) was liable ; but alfo
that perfon (James the firil) in whofe fortune we
were
D 4
[ 40 ]
SuperlUtion feems to be the leading prin-
ciple in all their fciences and doctrines,
whether civil, military, or religious.
This darknefs is at times illuminated
by a lingle individual, who mall by the
ftrength of genius advance beyond his
time and place into a future age of im-
provement. By fuch perfons does the
world grow better and wifer but it is
moft commonly the world that fucceeds,
not that which exifts at the time. Roger
Bacon was in genius and knowledge fome
centuries later than the aera in which he
fiourimed. The firft voyage of Columbus
is one of the greateft atchievements in
the hiftory of mankind, but it was an
effort of his own genius, reafon, and in-
trepidity the age in which he lived dif-
couraged
were no lefs embarked than the pafienger in the
pilots" Again " This year Queen Anne died
(wife of James the firft) the common people think-
ing the blazing ftar rather betokened her death than
the wars in Bohemia and Germany."
couraged his attempt, and was not far,
enough advanced in knowledge to com-
prehend the reafoning on which it was
founded. Let not therefore thefe in-
ftances, nor the invention of gunpowder
and printing, be brought as examples of
the genius or knowledge of the age in
which they were difcovered, but more
truly of the talents of illuftrious perfons
who fhone Jingly amid the fliades of ig-
norance.
At this time it is philofophy, which is
the foundation of all our arts and fciences.
As nothing can differ more from fuper-
ftition, if philofophy had not begun very
gently, and advanced by flow degrees, it
would have been ftrangled in the birth.
The idea of accounting for things from
the laws of nature and experiment, was
fo abhorrent to the ignorance and ipfe
dixit of ancient times, that it was arTumed
with fear and trembling, and even treated
as wickednefs. Accordingly the firil
philofophers
[ 42 ]
philofophers were confidered by the world
in general, as dangerous innovators, who
were, if poffible, to be crumed, and their
dodtrines rejected. Notwithftanding we
are fo far advanced in refinement, we are
frill a little afraid of philofophical enqui-
ries upon fome fubjedts However, let us
be thankful for what we polTefs, nor hope
for perfection until that Age arrive of
which it is the character iilic.
Compleatly to investigate all the addi-
tions to our knowledge fince the com-
mencement of the Silver- Age would re-
quire more labour, and greater fources
of information, than can reafonably be
expedted from a lingle author a flight
iketch is all I am capable of or pretend
to, which, tho' exceedingly defective,
may be of fome ufe in affifting others
who are difpofed to compleat thefe en-
quiries.
Where
[ 43 1
Where the fubjeds are fo various, the
choice is confounded. To take them as
they occur, might occafion fome per-
plexity from an intermixture with each
other ; and to affect method, might caufe
the propriety of my arrangement to be
difputed. I will endeavour to avoid the
dangers which threaten me, and come
off with as little damage as I can.
Bookfellers make out their catalogues
and methodize their books under the
different heads of divinity, hiftory, law,
and phyiic they mail be my authority
for taking my fubjcds in the above order.
The arts and fciences may follow, to
which fome will be added of a mifcella-
neous nature.
The divinity of Queen Elizabeth's
times was of that fevere, four caft, which
ftill diftinguifhes fome of our prefent
feds. If we were to become good, it
was lefs from the hope of reward, than
from
t 44 J
from the fear of punifhment. Thefe
rigid doctrines by degrees gave way to
more comfortable tenets, and now many
divines mocked with the idea of what
feemed to delight our forefathers, I mean
the belief of eternal torments, are ftriving
with great humanity to eftablifh a fyf-
tem more confonant with infinite mercy.
School-divinity is perfectly abolifhed.
All politions which cannot be under-
ftood, and if they could be fo, are of no
confequence, have long fince ceafed to
be fubjefts of conteft, and almoft to exift.
Our fermons are generally upon the du-
ties of life, or upon fuch fubjects as can-
not be controverted ; tho' occalionally a
wrong-headed preacher may expofe him-
felf in finding hidden and myfterious
meanings in doctrines fufficiently plain,
or which can never be made fo. But
thefe are trifles the glorious charadier-
iftic of the prefent times, at leaft in Eng-
land, is, that we are no longer perfe-
cuted for mere opinions, let them be ever
fo
[ 45 1
fo abfurd, if they do not affect the good
of fociety. This then is the great ad-
vantage of the Silver- Age, and is a broad
foundation on which to build our hopes
of what the Golden- Age may accomplish.
The historians of the laft fifty years in
England, and the laft feventy in France,
are much fuperior to all others who pre-
ceded them. We are fo accuftomed to
treat many ancient authors with refpect,
that we ftill continue our praife, although
they have ceafed to delight us. Yet the
ftyle of Habington has little of the ruft
of antiquity. The Hiftory of the Rebel-
lion by Lord Clarendon is the work of
a man of information and genius, and
Whitlock's Memorials may be trufted for
their honefty. This catalogue might be
much increafed, but there is fuch a hoft
of moderns to match againft them, that
they link almoft to nothing. The value
of Hume, Robertfon, Henry, and Wat-
Ton, will encreafe daily the mention of
foreign
[ 46 ]
foreign writers would open too great a
field -, but I cannot forbear to exprefs my
high opinion of Voltaire, who mull not
be thought deficient in truth becaufe he
abounds in vivacity. Were I difpofed to
depreciate one of our famous moderns,
it would be an hiflorian whofe reputation
is much too great to be hurt by fo feeble
an opinion as mine but in Gibbon the
affectation of elegance is always fo appa-
rent, as to prevent us from feeing his
learning, impartiality, and other great
and good qualities.
The many difcoveries in arts and fci-
ences, the vaft extenfion of commerce,
and numberlefs other caufes, have occa-
fioned fuch new combinations in fociety,
that every year requires fome regulations
unknown to our anceftors. A multitude
of laws, without fuch circumftances to
produce them, might be juftly conii-
dered as a grievance -, but when they are
the natural effects of good caufes, they
^.*C are
[ 47 1
are rather proofs of the progrefs of fo-
ciety. There will alfo new crimes arife
which muft be punifhed; and old ones
by being ftill committed, call for addi-
tional fe verity. Although the penalty
for the breach of fome ftatutes is en-
creafed, yet, there is a general mildnefs
in thofe of the laft feventy years, and in
the adminiftration of juftice, to preceding
times unknown. The profefTors of the
law in the laft century had a rudenefs of
behaviour and cruelty of difpofition per-
fedlly unfuitable to the prefent times :
of which the trial of Sir Walter Ralegh,
and indeed all other trials for treafon, are
melancholy proofs. No advocate would
now ufe fuch language as Noy did, or
fuch as pa!Ted current for many years
after. Both the laws themfelves, and
the profefTors are tinged with the mild
character which the progrefs of philofo-
phy never fails to eftablifh.
The
The art of phyfic, until lately, feemed
to coniifl in an afTemblage of every hor-
rid fubftance that ignorance and fuperfli-
tion could jumble together -, which was
formed into bolufes, draughts,, and pills,
and forced down the throat of the mi-
ferable patient. Every new difpenfatory
finds fomething nugatory, if not hurtful
in thofe before publimed, and the materia
medica will, by degrees, be reduced to a
few powerful medicines, which will be
adminiftered for the affiflance of nature,
and not to counteract her efforts. Let
us be thankful that in thefe diforders
which occafion fo ardent a defire for frem
air and water, we are not now ftifled in
a clofe room, nor heated with cordials.
Let us rejoice that phyficians begin to
think themfelves only the fervants to na-
ture. Formerly her dictates were held
in fovereign contempt perhaps by de-
grees they may addrefs her like Edmund
in Shakefpeare, " Thou nature art my
goddefs." Already a phyfician has had
the
[ 49 ]
the courage to write, that a perfon la-
bouring under a diforder is like a pond of
water ruffled by fomething caft into it
the way to have it ftill, is not by forcing
the waves to fubfide ; but to do nothing,
and permit gravity to produce its never-
failing effedls. It is impoflible for the
knowledge of medicine to advance, and
that of chirurgery to be ftationary they
muft proceed and improve together. The
modern anatomifts have partaken of the
improvements of the prefent Age, and
carried their art to a degree of perfection
unknown in times preceding. Reafon
and true philofophy, as already remarked,
being the principles upon which our pre-
fent fyftem of arts and fciences is founded,
it cannot be fuppofed that modern fur-
gery mould prefer theory to experiment.
If the phylicians addrefs themfelves to
nature, the furgeons obey the dictates of
the fame all-healing power.
E The
[ 5 ]
The fcience of aitronomy muft be fup-
pofed in a bad ftate when the Ptolomaic
fyftem was confidered as the true one.
Long after the revival of the fyftem of
Copernicus, that of Ptolomy frill held its
ground, and was believed by fo learned
a man as Dr. Browne, and not difbelieved
by Milton ; who, in the converfation
between the Angel and Adam, balances
between the two theories, not for the
reafon Addifon affigns, but becaufe that
of Copernicus was not firmly eftablifhed.
The true fyftem of the univerfe was at
laft confirmed by Sir Ifaac Newton, Dr.
Halley, with fome other contemporary
aftronomers, and is daily receiving addi-
tional ftrength. Great difcoveries have
been lately made, and greater ftill are ex-
pected from the vaft power of modern
telefccpes. Could Galileo have ima-
gined what improvements another Age
would make in his fimple perfpeftive
glafs, it might have cafl a 'gleam of light
over
[ 5' 1
over the horrors of his doleful prifon,
into which he was thrown for being wifer
than the barbarifm of the Age would ad-
mit.* Horrox triumphed in feeing firft
the tranfit of Venus, but he never ima-
gined that the folar fyilem would have
been extended beyond the orb of Saturn
but why do I revert to the time of this
ingenious aftronomer ? Our prefent phi-
lofophers as little fufpe<5ted the exiftence
of the Georgium Sidus as their prede-
ceflbrs.
What
* " Virgilius, furnamed Solivagus, a native of
Ireland, and Biihop of Saltzburg, in the 8th cen-
tury, ventured to aflert the heretical doftrine of
the Antipodes, and of other planets betides the
earth; for which the Pope pronounced his ana-
thema Galileo then was not the firft philofopher
whom the Court of Rome perfecuted."
WATKINSON.
Perhaps Dr. Herfchel had juft read the Rape
of the Lock, and chofe " to infcribe amid the
ftars
E2
[ 5' ]
What farther difcoveries are referved
lor the Golden- Age may be ov/ing to the
late-invented inftruments for obfervation ;
which feem to promife a future intimate
acquaintance with the ftarry heavens, in
comparifon of which our prefent know-
ledge may be conlidered as ignorance.
The relinquishing falfe opinions always
accompanies the progrefs of real know-
ledge. Aftronomy has advanced, and
Aftrology has retreated however it held
its ground until Butler firfl laughed it
out
ftars Great George's name" but, without intend-
ing the leaft difrefpeft to the King, or to his aftro-
nomer, I may be permitted to remark, that all
Europe is dhTatisfied with the appellation. In the
firft place, Sidus is not the Latin word which an-
fwers to our idea of a planet. Again the. reft of
the planets have all names of the fame houfe
Mercury, Venus, &c. &c. and the new one might
not improperly have taken that of Neptune if this
was reje&ed, it might have been named from the
difcoverer indeed the propriety of being fo named,
is evident from foreign aftronomers always terming
it the planet of Herfchel.
t 53 1
out of countenance in his Hudibras,* and
the wits of Queen Anne's reign conti-
nued the laugh with fo much fuccefs,
that it never more can mew its face in
an enlightened country.
Scarce any great undertaking in the laft
century was begun without confulting
the ftars. The immediate ufe which
Charles the firft made of a thoufand
pounds Jfent him at Brentford, was to fee
Lilly the aftrologer to tell him his for-
tune " I advifed him," fays the Sage,
" to march eaftward, but he marched
weftward, and all the world knows the
confequence." In Perfia this art is flill
in
* See the adventure of the Knight with Sidro-
phel, and numberlefs other open and covert attacks
on aftrology difperfed in various parts of the poem.
Butler had too much original fenfe of his own, to
join in with popular belief, unlefs it had truth for
its fupport.
E3
[ 54 ]
in its full vigour but Perlia is not the
land of knowledge.
As the fciences mutually affift each
other, fo ignorance is never dcmolifhed
in one inftance, but it is put to flight in
others. With aftrology departed magic
and witchcraft; and all the apparitions
which terrified our forefathers are va-
nilhed for ever !
Our knowledge of metaphylics before
Locke was but little. Whether he ex-
haufted the fubjed:, or, whether new
light has been thrown upon it by Hartly,
Beattie, Prieflley, and others, can never
be determined, unlefs the fcience itfelf
was capable of fomething like demon-
ftration. Perhaps we may confider the
old writers as more learned, and the mo-
derns more natural. We agree with
Locke becaufe we are afraid to differ
from him ; but we join in opinion with
Beattie, becaufe he feems to have brought
down
[ 55 ]
down his petitions and arguments to a
level with our underftanding.
As natural hiftory depends upon pa-
tient enquiries, and the refult of experi-
ments y it muft have been in an imperfect
ffote when little attention was paid to
fuch fubjects, and few experiments made.
It is true that there are fome old books
upon this fubjedr, which may be confi-
dered as hints to future enquiries, and
have been ufed as fuch ; but the modern
additions to natural hiftory are fo very
great, arifing from our fuperior opportu-
nities of procuring information, that the
works of our predeceflbrs are of little
other ufe, than mewing the low ftate of
the fcience when they were compofed.
The invention of the microfcope open-
ed a new field of enquiry, and from being
firft ufed as an inftrument for amufement,
became the means of difcoveries unfuf-
pected by times preceding us. Hook in
E 4 England,
[ 56 ]
England, and Lewenhoeck in Holland,
were indefatigable and very fuccefsful in
thefe ftudies ; together with other inge-
nious obfervers, they eftablifhed a tafte
for refearches into the minute and hidden
parts of nature.
In our Age the moft inconfiderable
animal is confidered as an object worth
enquiry j and as many perfons have en-
gaged in this line of knowledge, our ac-
quaintance with the different beings that
people the globe has moft wonderfully
encreafed within a few years.
But tho' by the affiftance of the mi-
crofcope, myriads of creatures are found
which were not before conceived to exift,
it muft not be imagined that microfcopic
objects alone engage the attention of the
naturalift. The fuperior order of ani-
mals, through all their different depart-
ments, have been investigated with an ac-
curacy and attention unknown to former
times.
[ 57 ]
times. Many new animals have been
difcovered, and fcarce a voyager returns
from geographical refearches, who does
not enrich natural hiftory with fome new
addition.
The ftudy of plants is nearly connected
with that of animals. The progrefs and
difcoveries of modern times, in Botany,
would require a much greater length
than this eflay, merely to enumerate.
This is of late become a favourite pur-
fuit, and, being one of the various paths
which leads to knowledge, it muft be
confidered to be ufeful as well as agree-
able perhaps, fome are deterred from
proceeding in this track by the found,
and fome by the meaning of the terms.
Admitting the truth of the theory, might
not fuch terms have been ufed as are lefs
pompous, and lefs connected with animal
properties- ?
The
[ 58 ]
The catalogue of new plants has alfo
received an immenfe increafe from the
late voyagers ; and by their bringing the
feeds, and in many inftances the plants
themfelves to England, our gardens are
enriched with objects of ufe, beauty, and
curiofity.
It is by no means my intention to take
even a curfory review of all the depart-
ments of natural hiflory it may be fuffi-
cient to fay, that our progrefs has been
great in them all, and chiefly fo within
the 'time fuppofed to be included under
this head of the enquiry.
Mineralogy and lithology are fo con-
nected with chemiflry, that our great ad-
vances in the knowledge of thefe fubjects
We may juftly fuppofe to be in confe-
quence of our application to this noble
art; one great fource of the fcience of
nature ! Lithology is in fome meafure a
modern difcovery I do not mean to fay
that
{ 59 ]
that our anceftors did not know there
were varieties of {tones ; but that the in-
veftigation of the caufes of thefe varieties,
and their application to natural hiftory,
were referved for the Silver- Age, which
has but jufl entered on the fubject.
The globular figure of the earth, al-
though formerly fufpected by fome, and
believed by a very few, was not gene-
rally received until the commencement cf
the asra which is our prefent fubject.
Philofophers, after a long contefl with
vulgar prejudices, at laft eftablifhed their
point, and the world was acknowledged
to be round every where except in
Afia ; there they ftill infift upon its being
flat, and placed upon the back of an ele-
phant.
Some difcoveries arifing from the vi-
bration of pendulums, which was found
to be performed in different times in dif-
ferent latitudes, gave a fufpicion that the
earth
[ 60 ]
earth was not quite fo round as we ima-
gined. This was proved at laft, and we
have fqueezed the poles a little nearer
together.
Befides afcertaining the real figure of
our planet, we have of late been very in-
duftrious to know it better within and
without. Wherever we have an oppor-
tunity of penetrating a little way into the
furface of the earth (which fome think is
fearching its bowels) we are attentive to
all we fee and find, and make it fubfer-
vient to the perfecting the theory of its
firft formation, and the changes which
time has produced. We have alfo fent
naturalifts into all the known parts of the
globe, and voyagers to difcdver parts
unknown in fhort, we are doing the
drudgery by which the Golden-Age is
to profit.
Lord Bacon, before the commence-
ment of the Silver- Age, marked the path
for
[ 61 ]
for his fucceffors in philofophical enqui-
ries. He recommended experiment as
the only true foundation of natural dif-
coveries, wifely remarking, that we are
not to reafon from preconceived theory,
but what from experiment we find to be
the truth.
This was faid many years before it was
put in practice , but now, the doctrine is
fo firmly eflablifhed, that we do not at-
tend to any opinion in natural philofophy
unfupported by experiment. It was by
experiment that Boyle mewed the pro-
perties of the atmofphere, and that New-
ton confirmed all his fublime theories.
Halley took long voyages to perfect, or
deftroy, his ideas of the trade winds,
and variation of the compafs ; for with-
out the lupport of experiment he would
not have ventured to give them to the
public.
When
[ 62 ]
When Franklyn conceived that light-
ning and the electrical fpark were the
fame j before he would determine the
point, he produced the effect of lightning
from the difcharge of his electrical bat-
tery, and the ufual phenomena of elec-
tricity from a filken kite fent up to a
cloud. Succeeding enquirers into the na-
ture of this wonderful fluid, have found
that the nerves are among its conductors
but this theory requires more experi-
ments for its eftablimment.
The exigence of the various Airs has of
late much engaged our attention they
(together with electricity) have been ap-
plied to medical purpofes, but not with
fuch fuccefs as to obtain univerfal appro-
bation.
From this very flight furvey of the
fubject, it is evident, that our modern
philofophers have far outgone their pre-
deceiTors ; and that the Silver- Age has
made
[ 63 ]
made difcoveries and a progrefs in the
knowledge of nature, of which our an-
ceftors, who reafoned only from theory,
muft neceffarily have been ignorant.
It would carry this fketch far beyond
its propofed limits, to trace the progrefs
of the arts from barbarous ages to their
prefent ftate ; but nothing marks the pro-
grefs of refinement fo much, or diftin-
guimes the Iron, Brazen, and Silver Ages
fo effectually from each other, as the ftate
of the arts. Any production of art is,
by the connoiffeur, with the greateft eafe
referred to its proper sera for, if it be
impoffible that an artift in the early ftages
of fociety mould anticipate tafte (the
great charadteriftic of the times which
are to fucceed) it is almoft equally im-
poflible for a modern to diveft himfelf fo
totally of tafte, as to have no tincture
of the elegance which we have already
acquired.
Thefe
[ 64 ]
Thefe obfervations principally apply
to the liberal arts, of which we will
ilightly remark the mofl diftinguilhed
features. The mechanic arts will then
be mentioned, but very imperfectly;
their variety and number rendering fuch
a multifarious fubjedt impoflible to be
known, unlefs almoft every art had a fe-
parate treatife, and every treatife a fe-
parate author. However, all that is in-
tended will be proved, which is the vaft
fuperiority of the prefent age to the two
ages which have preceded it, and our
progrefs towards perfection.
The arts of painting, fculpture, and
architecture have been carried to a great
degree of excellence in the Silver- Age of
ancient Greece and Rome, of modern
Italy, France and England but not
equally fo.
It has already been remarked, that Italy
took the lead in refinement the Age of
Lea
t 65 ]
Leo the tenth was in that country an aera
for knowledge and tafte, before even the
terms were underftood in the reft of Eu-
rope. By a comparifon of the works oi
art produced in a barbarous age with thofe
of enlightened times, it muft appear that
the former are defective in truth and ele-
gance, and many other fubordinate pro-
perties. If we reftrict our obfervations
to painting ; the works of the Brazen-
Age are deficient in defign, colouring,
drawing, grouping, and every other prin-
ciple of the art - y all which are held, and
practiced as efientials, by the moderns.
From the pictures which have efcaped
the general wreck of time and military
deftruction, we cannot in juftice think,
that the painters of ancient Greece and
Rome are to be compared with thofe
which flourifhed foon after the revival
of the arts, and thofe which exift at the
prefent time.
F The
[ 66 ]
The fculpture of the Brazen-Age
{hews a very incorrect knowledge of the
human figure, an ignorance of graceful
folds in the drapery of difpofition of
parts fo as to produce effect for the whole
and in ornamental foliage, a ftiffnefs
and want of tafte. In our times, every
thing that tends to accuracy and grace is
juftly confidered as the foundation of true
effect, which cannot, to the learned eye,
be produced by other principles.
Sculpture in all its parts was undoubt-
edly carried to a greater height in Greece
than in ancient or modern Rome, France,
or England. There are fome ftatues and
bafts, and many engraved gems, held to
be fuperior in greatnefs of defign and ac-
curacy of execution to any works of mo-
dern times.
The fame bad tafte, which in the pre-
ceding age prevailed in painting and
fculpture, was confpicuous in architec-
ture.
[ 67 ]
turc. The caftles were vail heaps of
flone, calculated neither for defence nor
refidence ; the churches were Gothic, a
ftyle of building which is certainly bar-
barous, notwithftanding fome illuflrious
inftances of irregular grandeur ;* and the
houfes inconvenient and unhealthy, or
mere cabins. We, in the Silver-Age,
make fortifications which are difficult to
be aflailed, and eafy to be defended.
When we build churches, if we had the
fame opportunity and encouragement for
exerting our abilities as our ancestors, we
mould produce much better works of
which the principal church at Namur
feveral churches in Paris, St. Paul's in
London, and above all, St. Peter's at
Rome, are finking inflances. Perhaps,
architecture was pureft in Greece" its
greatefl magnificence was in ancient
Rome
* See fome remarks on Gothic architefture im-
mediately following this eflay.
F 2
[ 68 ]
Rome and, in our times, without be-
ing deficient in purity or magnificence,
it has the addition of two other princi-
ples, comfort and convenience, which
are more attended to in England than in
any other country.
Naval architecture, from this its very
improper term, feems to be connected
with civil architecture, but its ufe and
principles are widely different.
Trees hollowed by fire became veflels
fufficient for the purpofes of navigation in
the firft ages of fociety in fome coun-
tries canoes were formed of leather, and
continue to be fo made upon the Wye
but if in this inftance we adhere to the
cuftom cf our forefathers, we have left
them far behind in the prefent ftrudure
of our (hips, which is upon the moft per-
fect principles of mathematics and me-
chanics, as far as they are yet practiced.
Different
[ 69 ]
Different nations are constantly endea-
vouring to rival each other in {hip-build-
ing to conftruct veflels of greater force,
more tonnage, and fwifter failers. By
this conftant emulation, mips have been
built uniting thefe properties, which for-
mer ages muffc have deemed impoflible
to have accomplifhed. The fleets of the
Saxon kings were but row-boats the
great fhip of Harry the eighth (and fo
named) far exceeded all others hitherto
built, and was efteemed the wonder of
the world ; yet it was not equal to one of
our fourth rates. A modern frigate of
forty-four guns would have been an over-
match for the ftouteft veflel of Queen
Elizabeth's fleet, as a feventy-four upon
the prefent eftablifhment is of fuperior
force to a firil-rate of the laft century.
By the natural progrefs towards per-
fection, mip-building would keep pace
with the other arts, and we find that it
did fo from hiftoric facts. Long after
F 3 the
t 7 ]
the beginning of this century the diffe-
rent rates of men of war proceeded by
round numbers it was a fhip of 20, 30,
40, 50 guns, &c. The French navy
being commonly worfted in their en-
gagements with ours, the force of their
mips was increafed Thus, a 70 gun
fhip became a 74 with greater tonnage,
more men, and heavier cannon, and fo
of the other rates. This advance of
ftrength was inftantly imitated by the
other maritime powers, fo that all hav-
ing increafed, things remained in the
fame relative fituation as before.* This
muft always be the cafe, fo that we con-
tend for fuperiority in points which muft
foon be equal. It is the opinion of the
Englifh, that the French mips fail better
than their own. If this were fo, it feems
difficult to account for the French mips
not getting away from ours when it is
their
* Since writing the above, the Spaniards have
built fhips of 130 guns, and the French of 120.-.
The Englifh firft-rates, as yet, remain as before.
[ 7' 1
their purpofe to efcape this fo feldom
happens, that we mufl fuppofe the opi-
nion is more liberal than juft. As far as
I have had an opportunity of obferving,
the ornamental carvings at the head and
ftern are designed and executed with
much more tafte by the French artifts
than by our own.
Engraving is pradlifed in every coun-
try of Europe that has advanced into the
Silver- Age, but at this time it is thought
to be beft underftood in England. It
was in our country that mezzo-tinto was
invented, and our artifts in this branch
are confefTedly the firft in Europe. It
was in England that etching and engra-
ving were firft united, and where the
point was firft ufed. Etching, engraving,
Icraping, and pointing feem to include
every poilible method of producing effect
for the taking off impremons but let us
not fet bounds to human invention it is
the purpofe of this imperfect eflay to
F 4 fhew
(hew that in all ftudies, arts, and fcienccs,
we have better times and greater im-
provements frill to expeft.
The finking of dies for coins was in a
deplorable ftate in every part of Europe,
except Italy, until within the laft 150
years. The favages of New Zealand
could produce nothing worfe than the
pieces of our early Henrys and Edwards.
They were improved by degrees, but
the principle on which they were formed
was quite falfe, until Simon, in his works
for the Protector, gave a fpecimen how
coins mould be deligned and executed,
by taking the Greek for his model, as
the Romans had done before him. The
moderns have attained to fo great a per-
fection in this art, that they are not un-
equal to their Roman and Greek prede-
ceffors in defign, and fuperior in execu-
tion j which may arife from the great ad-
vantage of our machinery for coining,
over the punch and hammer.
Man
t 73 ]
Man, in the earlieft ftages of fcciety,
feems fenfible to the pleafure of mufical
meafures before the exigence of muficai
founds. There are many favage nations
who have no idea of tune, but beat a
rhythmus with great precifion on pieced
of wood, with which they mark their
fleps in dancing* this is the Iron-Age
of mufic. The next advance is mufical
founds joined to the meafure, which by
degrees produces melody., and together
with the firft imperfed: attempts towards
harmony, or putting parts together, mark
the
* " The negroes (fpeaking of thofe at Surinam)
in their mufic never ufe triple-time, but their mea-
fure is not unlike that of a baker's bunt, founding
tuckety-tuck, tuckety-tuck, perpetually to this
noife they dance with uncommon pleafure."
STEDMAN.
Are we to fuppofe from this pafiage that equal
meafure is more natural than unequal ? However
this may be, it is certain that the common people
underftand mort times belt in a cathedral they
like the chant better than the fervice, and next tt-
that, the refponfes to the commandments.
[ 74 ]
the Brazen- Age of mufic. The grace-
fully uniting harmony with melody (in-
cluding meafure, ofcourfe) is that flate
of the art to which it is arrived in the
prefcnt times, the fuperiority of which
over the precedent, is my fubject ; not a
differ tation on the art.
Modern muiic muft be confidered un-
der the heads of compofition and perfor-
mance.* I will firft make a few obfer-
vations on the prefent ftate of perfor-
mance, becaufe it has had a confiderable
influence on our compolitions.
About the beginning of this century
the real art of performance was firft flu-
died. Corelli may be reckoned the firft
improver of the violin, and confequently
of the viola and violoncello. It was
many
* I purpofely omit the philofophy of found, and
the mathematical proportion of intervals, as hav-
ing in faft nothing to do with compofition or per-
formance.
[ 75 1
many years later that the hautbois, baf-
foon, French-horn, and trumpet were
fludied, and later ftill that the different
Fort of inftruments was attended to for
this laft improvement (and many others)
we are indebted to the German muficians.
Handel was the earliefl performer in the
true ftyle of the harpfichord and organ,
which has lince been brought to fo great
a pitch of perfection . The invention of
the Piano-forte is very modern this in-
ftrument has, not improperly, fuperceded
the harpfichord. The progreffive ftate
of the human powers has produced an
excellence in ftyle, and facility in perfor-
mance, of which former times could have
no conception.
The cultivation of the vocal powers
has been equally fuccelsful, and although
in fearch of novelty we may fometimes
feize abfurdity, yet the art of fmging has
been equally improved with that of in-
ftrumental performance.
Excellent
t 76 ]
Excellent performance naturally prd-
duc~s mufic which is to keep pace with
it for no artiil can mew his fuperiority
over his predecefTors, were his powers to
be limited by the old mufic 5 and though
the delire of improvement may lead us
beyond the mark, yet by degrees, we are
brought back again within the bounds of
good fenfe; and, upon the whole, ad-
vance nearer to perfection.
In the Silver-Age then, melody has
been united with harmony, and both
have been adorned by grace, tafte, and
expreffion,
If our practice and experience were to
preclude a poflibility of improvement,
the very high antiquity of agriculture
might be fuppofed long fince to have
made it perfect but, to the great credit
of the prefent Age, the fcience of culti-
vation is confidered as yet in its infancy,
and that more remains to be difcovered
than
f 77 ]
than is yet known. Chemiftry is enw
ployed to afcertain the firft principles of
manures, and the philofopher commu-
nicates the refult of his ftudies to the
farmer, who adopts or rejects it according
to circumftances, of which the practical
hufbandman is the beft judge that is,
after making due allowance for old pre-
judices, which too frequently and fuc-
cefsfully oppofe all improvement. Truth
cannot be expected to advance fmoothly ;
let us be thankful that it advances at all.
The general progrefs of fcience is con-
fpicuous in agriculture, which has al-
ready brought it far beyond its former
boundaries ; and we may reafonably ex-
pect, from the attention of 'the legifla-
ture, to have this progrefs accelerated.
Gardening is a branch of agriculture
the difcoveries of the latter are for its
advantage ; but there are other circum-
ftances which are peculiar to gardening
only. The production ol early fruits and
flowers
[ 7 J
flowers, in their prefent perfection, is an
attainment of the Silver- Age. The vaft
addition made to the old catalogue of
plants by modern difcoveries and feminal
varieties, has given us a new vegetable
world, unknown to our forefathers as
the exertion of the fame industry and abi-
lity may caufe the prefent times to be
claffed with thofe of ignorance.
Landfcape-gardenin-g is an Englifh art,
notwithstanding fome attempts to derive
it from China ; and it is a modern art,
in fpite of the prior exiftence of the gar-
den of Alcinous, and the much older and
finer one of Eden. There is more ge-
nius and practice required for its proper
application than may at firft be imagined.
The being in poflellion of ground gives
the owner power, but not ability to lay
it out ; and it is the exertion of this
power that has covered fo much ground
with deformity, and brought difgrace
upon an art calculated to produce plea-
fure
[ 79 1
fure by the creation of beauty. To enter
upon its principles makes no part of my
defign.
The bare mention of the numerous
modern inventions and improvements in
the mechanic arts, would take more time
and fpace than I can devote to my whole
treatife I mean not to infmuate, that if
I had both in profufion, I am capable of
treating the fubjedt. Nor is this any
difgrace, as it certainly is much beyond
the opportunities of information that can
be attained by any one perfon. How-
ever, enough may be fafd to eftablim my
polition that the prefent age is frill in
a rapid" ftate of improvement, although
already in porTeiTion of difcoveries of
which paft times could not entertain the
moft diftant idea. The application of
machinery inftead of the hand, has given
an exaclnefs and expedition to the me-
chanic arts, and been the means of fpread-
ing modern manufactures over the world,
and
[ 8o J
and giving comforts and conveniencies to
countries, which elfe, might ever have
wanted them. The working of metals
by the vaft powers obtained from a falling
current of water, or that ftupendous ma-
chine the fleam-engine, could not, be-
fore the modern difcoveries, have been
even fuppofed to exift. That barbarous
ages were ignorant of the water- wheel j.
I mean not to aflert -, but to the prefent
times muft be attributed a thoufand new
and ingenious applications of it as a firft
power > The fteam- engine, however, is
in every refpect new, and in its inven-
tion as well as application belongs to the
Silver- Age. The various ways by which
thefe two powers are applied, and the
perfect productions of the joint effects of
genius to invent, and ability to execute,
in fo many thoufand artkles of ufe and
elegance, are impoffible to be noticed by
the flighteft mention, or comprized in a
large volume. Iron has been lately ap-
plied to a very new purpofe the con-
flrudion
ftrudion of bridges for which it feems
fuperior to ftone for, of the latter ma-
terial I conceive no arch could be exe-
cuted of 236 feet fpan, and of 33 only
in height above the chord. This ftupen-
dous work, erected at the time of writing
thefe obfervations, naturally attracted no-
tice, and occafioned a departure from the
intention of not remarking particular in-
ftances. With the mention of another
modern performance I will finifh thefe
imperfedt hints, left " another and ano-
ther mould fucceed" The telefcope of
Herfchel ! which, whether confidered as
an inftance of invention or execution,
leaves all other works of the fame nature
at an immeafurable diftance !
Great are thefe triumphs of art -, nor
can we fuppofe that fuch illuftrious in-
ftances will be unnoticed, even when the
human powers have attained that degree
of perfection which we attribute to the
Gplden-Age.
G With
With a few obfervations on the general
ftate of things I will conclude this lection.
The progrefs towards perfection may
be feen in the face of the country, and
the appearance of towns the increafe of
cultivated land, and plantations of trees
the connection of places far diftant, by
canals and fine roads* the numberlefs
mips, boats, waggons, and other carriages
for ufe and luxury the quick convey-
ance by the poft the fuperior jftyle of
modern houfes, and their furniture of
modern flreets and their pavement the
plenty, eafe, comfort, and luxury which
every where furround us the great al-
teration for the better in a thoufand other
circumstances, affuredly marks the im-
provement of the prefent age, and gives
a promife of a greater degree of perfec-
tion ftill to be expected.
As the poets formed a Golden-Age,
according to their imagination of what is
good
good or defirable ; I may, in my turn,
imagine what will be the fituation of
mankind, when genius, corrected by fci-
ence, and affifted by reafon and virtue,
mall have produced that improvement of
fociety to which it naturally afpires this
is the millennium of philofophy.
The idea of reverting the order of the
Four Ages, by this time, muft have re-
ceived its fupport, or muft be confidered
as chimerical. To fuppofe, with the
ancients, that a ftate of virtue and happi-
nefs could fubfift in the early and igno-
rant ages of fociety, is contrary to all ob-
fervation ; but that the world may grow
better as it grows wifer, may be inferred
from the property of knowledge to pu-
rify the heart while it enriches the mind.
There are not many inftances of eminence
in art or fcience being attained by vicious
perfons- the beft philofophers, poets,
hiftorians, and the moft eminent profef-
fors of the liberal arts, are men of inte-
G 2 grity
grity and virtue. When great know-
ledge and good principles are feparated,
it may be conlidered as contrary to the
nature of things, and an exception to a
rule founded on experience. It being
then the tendency of a progrefs in know-
ledge to produce perfection, let us amufe
our imagination with defigning a picture
of fociety in this ftate, which is the real
Golden- Age, even tho' it never arrives
for ever approaching, but never touch-
ing, like the diagonal line between two
parallels.
War makes a neceflary part of the
character of early fociety, and a confti-
tuent part of it when farther advanced.
It has already been obferved, that an age
may for a time, and in fome instance's,
revert to a more barbarous period -, and
by a parity of reafoning, may be advanced
into the times which mall fucceed. Thus
war may be carried on with a ferocity in
the Brazen-Age that only belongs to the
Iron-
Iron- Age, or with a generofity of man-
ners belonging to a later period. Yet
each Age has its fixed character from bar-
barity to humanity j and war, in fome
fhape or other, muft exift in every ftage
of fociety, but the laft.
Nothing but that rectitude of intention
and action which belongs to times of the
greateft degree of refinement, can annihi-
late war. It will by degrees be percei-
ved, that wars do not often produce the
end for which they are undertaken j and
when they do, the purpofe attained is
not equal to the coft and mifchief. Thus,
experience, co-operating with the pro-
grefs of reafon, will at lafl overcome
that appetite for mutual deftruction by
which the nature of mankind is difgraced
and the world defolated.
The next great bufinefs of mankind is
commerce, which, founded on the iup-
ply of mutual wants, will be free and un-
G 3 fliackled
[ 86 ]
mackled with any reftraints, except fuch
as reafon and convenience dictate for mu-
tual advantage. Nature has difpenfed
different gifts to different regions, and as
art has taken directions in fome countries
which are impracticable in others, it will,
by degrees, be perceived that it is for the
benefit of mankind rather to remove the
various productions of nature and art
from one country to another, than en-
deavour to force productions contrary to
climate or the genius of the people. By
this interchange of good offices, countries
become connected not only by intereft
but by mutual efteem.
All vain unprofitable ftudies will ceafe
to be purfued. This end is already partly
attained. What was efteemed learning in
the Brazen-Age, is confidered as igno-
rance in the Silver- Age. School-divinity
was once held to be the height of human
wifdom, and it is now thought the depth
of folly. Falfe learning, in all its various
forms,
forms, will gradually ceafe to exift, and
no fludies will be confidered as worthy
attention, but thofe which contribute to
our pleafure, inftrudtion, or advantage.
As nothing is more fimple, and at the
fame time more comprehenfive,,than the
ideas of protection and obedience, pro-
bably our prefent perplexed, myfterious
fyftems of divinity, will be reduced to a
very fmall compafs, and, by degrees,
meet with the fame fate that fchool-divi-
nity has already experienced. Moral phi-
lofophy will alfo be much comprefled,
and our golden fucceffors will be afto-
nifhed at the number and bulk of the vo-
lumes which have been written on a fub-
jedl, which, for every practical purpofe, is
fo foon exhaufted ; a few plain maxims,
whofe truth is univerfally acknowle4ged,
being fufHcient to guide us through the
paths of life with eafe and fecurity.
If we trace the art of phyflc from the
Iron- Age to the prefent, we (hall fee
G 4 with
[ 88 ]
with pleafure how the progrefs of reafon,
and truth have put prejudice and falfity
to flight
" As fteals the morn upon the night
And melts the fhades away !"
Perhaps, in the Golden- Age, the care to
prevent difeafes may, in great meafure,
fuperfede the ufe of a phyfician ; for as
lago well obferves, " it is in ourfehes
that we are thus, or thus." Difeafes are
created by mifconduct and intemperance,
but in the days of perfection, (and not
'till then) there will be no mifcondud:
nor intemperance. If accidents require
amftance, and art is found neceflary, it
will be conlidered not as a director of
nature, but an humble affiftant only this
is almoft the cafe at prefent ? as was ob-
ferved in the Silver- Age.
" To chaftife, fo as to prevent crimes
by the influence of example, and to re-
ftore the culprit to fociety by reftoring
him
[ 89 ]
him to virtue -, thefe are the principles
which ought to direct the legiilature in
its eftablifhment of penal laws" fays M.
Jallet. At prefent, the legislature feeks no
more than to prevent crimes in general,
by the punimment of individuals, but we
may fuppofe that the progrefs of virtue
will at laft make penal laws unnecefTary ;
for man fins only when reafon ceafes to
govern, and we are fupponng a flare
when it reigns unfettered by cuftom, and
unoppofed by folly or vice.
As fcience is an accumulation of ac-
quirements by a long fucceffion of indi-
viduals, given to the world, and preferved
throughout all ages by the art of writing,
and more perfectly by that of printing ;
one man poflefling former dilcoveries,
begins where his predeceflbrs ceafed, and
after extending the line of knowledge,
leaves it to be farther extended by his
fucceflbrs. If fcience were not in its na-
ture infinite, we muft, according to our
plan,
[ 9 ]
plan, fuppofe it arrived at perfection in
the Golden- Age but, it is no detraction
from human capacity to fuppofe it inca-
pable of infinite exertion, or of exhauft-
ing an infinite fubjedt in the Golden-
Age, the progrefs to perfection will not
be checked, but continued to the lafl ex-
iftence of fociety.
Studies, which have the different de-
partments of nature for their purfuit, are
inexhauftible every animal, vegetable,
mineral, ftone, earth, all natural pro-
ductions furnifh a field for interefting en-
quiry ; the more we examine, the greater
are our difcoveries.
An idea of the formation of the world,
and its fubfequent variations, is in fome
meafure already attained. This fubject
has much attracted the attention of mo-
dern philofophers, but longer and more
extended enquiries are neceffary to per-
fect the theory of the globe. At prefent
it
[ 91 ]
it feems to be eftablimed, that the fur-
face of the earth was once beneath the
ocean, and that it has alfo received many
modifications from the action of fire
that both fire and water are continually
deftroying and new-forming this furface,
and mofl probably will continue their
action to its laft exiftence. The geogra-
phical ftudy of the globe mufl wait for a
more advanced period than the prefent,
before it will be compleated. Not much
above three centuries have elapfed, fince
any attempts of confequence have been
made to attain a knowledge of the planet
we inhabit, and we are flill but very im-
perfectly acquainted with it. In the
Golden-Age thefe entertaining and inte-
refting enquiries will attain the certainty
and perfection which are characteriftic of
that happy aera.
To judge of future improvements in
the microfcope and telefcope, by the paft
the time will arrive, when our prefent
inilruments
[ 9' 1
inflruments will be confidered as firft ef-
forts, if the production of the Herfchel-
lian telefcope may not be confidered as
an anticipation of the period we are de-
fcribing.
Perhaps, fome other power may be
difcovered as forcible and as manageable
as the evaporation from boiling water
another gunpowder that may fuperfede
the prefent and other applications of
the mechanical powers, which may make
our prefent wonders link into vulgar per-
formances. ,
In poetry, we {hall difcriminate be-
tween fubjects capable of being adorned
by numbers, and thofe which are better
expreffed in profe. By rejecting com-
mon phrafeology, we mall appropriate a
language for poetical purpofes, and at
laft attain to unite the correct with the
fublime.
In
t 93 1
In mufic, we mall feek to exprefs paf-
fion and meafure, by pleafing melody
joined with pure harmony, and reject all
attempts to impofe on our feelings when
drawn from illegitimate fources.
In painting, it will no longer be found
impomble to combine grandeur of defign
with the hue and forms of nature, which
will be found more perfect than any the
invention of man can fupply.* The pro-
vince of the painter is rather to arrange
than to create. Nature produces men,
animals, and inanimate objects, but does
not often difpofe of them to the painter's
fancy.
Architecture will not be flavifhly held
in Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian bonds,
but formed on fuch aliquot parts as cor-
rect judgement, joined with elegant
tafte, mall find moft proper for ufe and
grandeur of effect.
If
* See Sir J. Reynolds'* Difcourfes paffim.
[ 94 I
If the progrefs of human attainments
lead at laft to that Golden- Age which the
ancients held to be our primitive flate ;
the philofopher will confider this as the
happy future flate of fociety a ftate of
reward to the fpecies, not to the indivi-
dual a ftate of blifs, the natural confe-
quence of fcientific and virtuous exer-
tions.
Thus we have endeavoured to mew,
that nothing but rudenefs can exift in the
firft age, that it becomes fmoother in the
fecond, and more poliihed in the third ;
but that we are not to look for the hft
degree of refinement, until human na-
ture, having proceeded through all the
different ftages of improvement, becomes
perfectly inftrufted by fcience, and pu-
rified by virtue.
ESSAYS.
[ 95
ESSAYS.
On Gothic Architecture*
much has been written lately on
Gothic Architecture, that I am tempted
to depart from the concifenefs I have hi-
therto obferved, and to convert what
was intended as a note (fee page 67)
into an efTay on a fubject of which I may
be fuppofed to have fpoken too flightly.
The Saxon Architecture may be clearly
traced from the Roman, from which it
differs no more than the Italian language
from the Latin, fo that it may be confi-
dered only as a barbarous corruption of
the old Orders. But the Architecture
ufually
[ 96, ]
ufually termed Gothic, having its prin-
ciples totally diftindt from the Roman,
muft be derived from another fource. Its
origin has not been fatisfadtorily traced,
but its rules, as far as they have a foun-
dation in art, may be afcertained. This
fubjecl: has been treated of by writers
more converfant with it than myfelf my
intention is not to go over their ground
farther than a few remarks make necef-
fary, which may not be found in their
works.
To the circle, or portions of it, and to
the right-angle, may be referred the ge-
neral forms in the Roman and Saxon
Architecture.
From acute arches, or acute angles,
may be derived the general forms of Go-
thic Architecture but caprice and whim
are as prevalent as principle.
Warburton
[ 97 ]
Warburton (in a note upon Pope)
conceives that the firfl idea of Gothic
Architecture arofe from obferving the ef-
fect of branches crofling each other in an
alley of trees.* The refemblance is un-
doubtedly very great, and had before been
obferved by StukelyjJ if admitted, it
only gives a principle for the pillars and
roof, and of the infide only.
A late writer derives this order from
the pyramid, which is the moil general
principle,
* A Theatre at Paris is conftru&ed to reprefent
a bower of trees : the interlacing of the branches
form the deling. As it is ufed for fummer amufe-
ments the thought is judicious, and the effe&
pleafing.
J " Gothic Architefture (as it is called) for a
gallery, library, or the like, is the beft manner of
building, becaufe the idea of it is taken from a
walk of trees, whofe branching heads are curioufly
imitated by the roof."
STUKELY'S ITINERARY.
H
[ 98 ]
principle, and applies equally to the out-
lide, which Warburton's does not.
To both thefe principles it feems ne-
ceflary to add (as above-mentioned) the
caprice of the builder -, fometimes dictated
by good-fenfe, more frequently by the
barbarifms of the times, but never by
real tafte, becaufe in the ftate of fociety
in which thefe edifices were erected,
Tafte did not exift.*
In thofe buildings erected by the
Greeks and Romans, a general fixed
principle may be eafily traced, and from
which they feldom deviated, unlefs in
the fubordinate parts. The Gothic ar-
chitects were quite at liberty to do with
their pyramidical principle what feemed
good in their eyes their arches and pin-
nacles were more or lefs acute every
pofiible angle, if lefs than a right-angle,
has
* See Letter 23 in the Thirty Letters.
[ 99 ]
has been ufed every proportion of length
to breadth, fo that there are fcarcely any
two churches that bear more than a
general refemblance to each other nor
would there be even this, but from a
conceived obligation to preferve the form
of a'crofs; to have the altar at the eaft-
end, and other fixed religious points
which necelTarily produced fome coin-
cidences.
i
The Gothic architects feem perfectly
ignorant of the effect of aliquot parts,
and the neceffity of fatisfying the eye by
having the mafly parts below, and the
(lighter ones above. The weft-front of
Salifbury Cathedral is a collection of mi-
nutiae, perfectly without principle, in
which the architect gave full fcope to his
caprice. The effect of grouping fome
parts together, and of giving repofe to
the eye by the abfence of all ornaments,
was unpradtifed, perhaps unknown to
thefe architects, although an illuftrious
Ha . exception
exception is in the fpire of the above-
mentioned church, which is kept quite
plain, except where it feems to be bound
round with net- work.
They frequently affected a variety
where the form ought to be repeated.
The church at Laufanne has different
pillars and different ornaments for every
arch, which may alfo be feen in fome
pannels in a very old and curious houfe
oppofite Little-Style, Exeter. The win-
dows of the cathedral in that x:ity not
only vary in the fubordinate, but in the
principal parts; nay, they vary in the
general form and dimenfions. The old
bridge at Exeter, and old London bridge,
had no two arches the fame, this is alfo
the cafe of fo many others, that perhaps
the variation was occailoned from repara-
tions made at different times admitting
it, yet nothing but caprice or extreme
inattention, prevented the new arches
from being like the old ones. There is
every
every appearance that the Gothic archi-
tects were not confined to rule, although
they worked generally upon the pyramid-
ical principle and yet they occafionally
departed from it, as in the inftance of
fquare battlements, which in fuch buil-
dings have always an ill effecl:. If bat-
tlements are necefTary, they are eafily
made pointed, but they are beft avoided.
Radclifte church at Briftol, and the Abbey
at Bath, have better copings than battle-
ments.
One of the moft prevalent faults in
Gothic buildings is the want of truth in
pofitions thus, you look through the
vifta of an ayle, and you find the termi-
nating window not in the middle, for
which no poffible reafon can be affigned.
This is a more common fault than is ap-
prehended, and even in buildings noticed
for their beauty. As I recollect, there
are fome inftances of this in Tinterne
Abbey an Exeter Cathedral there are
H 3 many;
many ; the eaft windows of the two ayles
are not in the middle, nor is the window
of the chapel at the north-weft end,
which is ufed as the fpiritual court : the
two largeft pinnacles of the weft front,
tho' in corresponding petitions, are of
very different dimenfions many inftan-
ces of fuch inattention might be found
in other churches of this period.
It is a common idea that modern ar-
chitects cannot execute a Gothic building
the fact is, that they have feldom fuc-
ceeded ; but it furely is in their power
to make a finer Gothic building than any
exifting, by working upon the following
principles. If the form of a crofs be ftill
obferved (which has its advantages) let
it be fmgle the eaft-end terminating in
a niche like the cathedral at Amiens,
Canterbury, and many others* the north
and
* Sir C. Wren, fully aware of the effeft of the
recefs, has with great judgement given it to St.
Paul's.
t 103 ]
and fouth en3s of the tranfept mould be
enlightened with circular windows, like
thofe of the Abbey of St. Dennis, and of
Weftminfter. The weft end fhould in-
variably have a large window nearly fill-
ing the whole fpace.*
The proportions fhould be aliquot
from the general plan to the fubordinate
parts, and all upon the principle of fome
certain acute angle, and fome certain acute
arch, which mould be adhered to after
being firfl determined.
The
* Nothing atones for the want of a confiderable
window at each end of a large church, except it be
terminated with a niche. The effeft of the view
from the eaft, of the Cathedral at Amiens, is fpoiled
by the organ hiding the weft-window. Radcliffb
Church and the Chapel at Winfor are fpoiled by
the flopping of windows, the latter indeed is not an
inftance exaftty to the prefent purpofe, but no pic-
tures mould be admitted witliin a Gothic building
if they muft deprive it of light.
H 4
[ 104 ]
The columns and fpaces fhould be over
each other the more maffy, below -, and
the lighter, above.* .
The application of thefe principles,
with others naturally arifing from the
good tafte of the prefent age, would pro-
duce a Gothic building much fuperior to
any that ever exifted.
I have already obferved, that modern
Gothic churches are generally bad but
this does not arife from the difficulty of
inventing or executing Gothic Architec-
ture, but from not taking at firfl a cer-
tain angle and proportion ; and mixing
principles, which, in their nature, are in-
compatible. Windows with acute arches
will not make a building Gothic, if the
other parts are not fo a chapel at Bath
has fuch windows to a flat roof and the
new church of St. Paul, at Briflol, has
fuch
* The reverfe is feen in the weft front of Salif-
bury Cathedral.
fuch a mixture of incoherent, capricious
forms, as renders it the moft ahfurd piece
of architecture which ancient or modern
times ever produced.
Thefe, and many other inftances of a
falfe ftyle, only mew the want of fkill in
the builders, in mixing forms which can-
not accord ; but by no means prove the
impoffibility of fuccefs, if a church were
defigned upon the principle of the acute
arch and angle, and had its other addi-
tions from the good tafte of a modern ar-
tift, in/lead of the barbarous caprice of
antiquity.
Although I am clearly of opinion
that a Gothic church might at this time
be built greatly fuperior to any of old
times, yet I doubt, whether the aflb-
ciation of ideas, upon which fo much
depends, would not be wanting to give
it the due effe<5t. Our reverence for an-
tiquity, and our reverence for religion,
in
[ "6 ]
in feme meafure go together. There is
a folemnity attached to an old church,
becaufe it is old, which we do not feel in
a new church, becaufe it is new. How
often has it been remarked of St. Paul's,
that although a large and fine building,
yet it does not produce the religious effect
of a Gothic cathedral which is undoubt-
edly true, partly for the above reafon,
and partly by our being more ufed to fee
the Grecian orders applied to buildings
for common purpofes. The language of
the prayers is not that of common dif-
courfe, nor is it the ftyle of authors at
this period it does not fuit with any
place fo well as a Gothic church, which
our imagination makes to be older than
one built after the Grecian orders, be-
caufe, in our country, they were firft ufed
after the Gothic Architecture had been
long practifed.
[ 107 I
The middle way not always left.
JL HE fafety of taking the middle way
is evident, when we are aflailed by di-
putants, each violent in his caufe it is
the moft, fecure path while we journey
through life, where the difficulty lies in
fleering between extremes that are equally
hurtful and this maxim may be gene-
rally applied to morals, philofophy, and
even to religion itfelf: in all which,
violence and coolnefs are equally to be
avoided. But in the imitative arts, as
they are called, the reverfe of this maxim
is our rule and guide, as appears by an
examination of its effecl: in painting,
mufic, and poetry.
When we would ftrike the imagina-
tion, which is the end of all the arts, it
muft
muft be by fomething that ^operates in-
ftantly, and with precifion this effect
cannot be produced by mediocrity.
In a picture, the fubject muft be told
with fome degree of violence to arreft the
attention. If it be hiftorical, the figures
muft be eagerly engaged, or they will not
feem to be engaged at all. Strong men
muft be very ftrong beautiful women,
Jupremely fo. In landfcape, it is not
fuch an aflemblage of objects as we do
fee, but fuch as we wifh to fee every
thing muft have a brilliancy and agitation
beyond nature, if we are to think it a
reprefentation of nature.
It is this principle which has eftablifhed
fiery inftead of warm colouring that
makes the heightening touches of trees
red or yellow inftead of light green that
makes grey hills, blue that makes a
front and fide light in the fame picture,
and other extravagancies. As our en-
deavour
[ I0 9
deavour to give a juft reprefentation of
nature generally fails of effect, . we try to
impofe on the imagination, by fubftitu-
ting an exaggerated refemblance.
Not only in the fubject, drawing, and
colouring of a picture we conlider the
middle path as dangerous, but there mufl
alfo be a boldnefs in the touch of the
pencil, or all our other elevations above
mediocrity will be of no avail. The very
eflence of Drawings depends upon effects
fuddenly produced by broad and full
touches.
In mufic, quick and flow movements
are diftinctly marked, but what is be-
tween both feems uncharacteriftic, and
though it often has the power to pleafe,
it feldom poffefTes fufficient force to af-
fect us. This remark may be extended
to the effect of the piano and forte, and
even to the manner of performance.
Poetry,
Poetry, in its very nature, pofTefTes an
energy fuperior to profe in thought and
language it mult fcorn the fafety of the
middle path, and find one more elevated,
or perifh in the attempt ! If it be dra-
matic (as I have elfewhere remarked*)
the characters muft have a degree of ex-
travagance in language and fentiment
much beyond common nature. The
drefles of the actors, and their painted
faces, are equally neceffary, for without
all thefe exaggerations upon the fobriety
of nature, we mould be too feebly touched
to be affe&ed.
In epic poetry the characters muft be
like the figures in historical painting:
the men iliould be either young and
ftrong, or old and feeble. The middle-
aged man, if abfolutely necefTary for the
ftory, muft of courfe be introduced ; but
at the time of life when youth is loft,
and
* In the Thirty Letters,
[ III ]
and old-age not attained, the character is
unpi&urefque and unaffefting. It is fb
in common portraits : none have a worfe
effect than thofe of middle age.
Perhaps it may be urged againft the
truth of the maxim I would eftablifh;
that there are in murk, many movements
in moderate time , that there are many
landfcapes of fimple nature, and many
chara<ters in dramatic, and other poetry,
which are excellent, although of that
middle clafs which I feem to reprobate.
I can only anfwer, that there is no-
thing beyond the power of genius - y and it
is never fo evident, as in producing effect
where circumftances are unfavourable.
Perhaps it is the confcioufnefs of this
difficulty being vanquifhed, that adds to
the pleafure we receive from fuch in-
flances, and raifes our feelings fo far
above mediocrity, that the fenfation is as
much
much elevated as if produced by violence.
For one mufician who can make a fimple
tune like Carey, there are five hundred
who can compofe a noify fymphony like
Stamitz. There is no fubjecl: fo eafy for
a landfcape-painter as a warm evening it
requires but little fkill to imitate Claude,
it is the firft effort of the fmatterer in
landfcape-painting ; but no one ventures
upon Ruyfdale's green banks, roads, and
puddles of water. There will be a thou-
fand fuccefsful imitators of Raffaele be-
fore another Hogarth will arife. Our
prefent hiftorical painters are much
nearer their prototype, than any of the
burlefque caricature defigners are to their
great original. Pitt, in his Tranflation
of the ./Eneid, is a very fuccefsful imi-
tator of Pope but who dares venture to
tell a tale like Prior ?
The
r/ie Villa.
V^ALLING upon a citizen of my ac-
quaintance on a Saturday, I found him
and his family juft fetting off for his villa
in the country. Having nothing .parti-
cular to hinder me, I accepted a hearty
invitation to make one of the party ; and
as the ladies condefcended to fubmit to
a worfe accommodation than ufual, I
fqueezed into the well-filled carriage,
which very foberly brought us to the
place of our deftination.
A citizen's box by the road fide is fo
perfectly known, and has been fo often
painted in its dufty colours, that I have
no new touches to add It was one of
the thoufands that are in the vicinity of
London, with nothing to diftinguim it
from its neighbours.
I In
t "4 ]
In the evening, as we were taking re-
peated turns on the fmall fpace of the
garden which permitted it, I believe my
friend perceived an involuntary fmile of
contempt playing about my face, which
he confidered as a reproach on his tafte
to which he made this reply r
" A Londoner's country -houfe has
been the fubject of much ridicule, and
given occafion to fome excellent papers
in periodical publications, from the Spec-
tator, down to our own times. I have
laughed heartily at the wit and humour
it has produced -but we ftill are in the
fame ilate and ought to be fo."
I acknowledged that my fmile was oc-
caiioned by recollecting thofe humorous
defcriptions to which he alluded; that
admitting the propriety of having a villa ;
yet, I faw no reafon why it muft always
poflefs fome points for ridicule
" Every
" Every reafon, fays he, why it mould
not, if thofe points were ridiculous to
the pofleiTor ; but if fources of enjoyment
to him, he may excufe their being laughed
at by others permit me to offer fome-
thing in defence of thefe our little boxes.
" Should you difpute the propriety of
our going into the country at all I re-
ply, that we return the keener to our
bulinefs for having had a little relaxation
from it that change of air and exercife
contributes to our health. The hope of
future enjoyment gives us prefent fpirits.
If you knew the pleafure with which we
look forward to Saturday, that is to carry
us to the little garden, where we furvey
the accumulated vegetation of the days
we have been abfent, you would think it
a fenfation not to be defpifed.
" From what I have obferved, no
perfons really enjoy the country but the
London citizens. Thofe who polTefs
I 2 magnificent
[ "6 ]
magnificent villas feem infenfible to the
beauties in their pofleffion. It is the ap-
petite which gives pleafure to the feaft.
If we have this inclination, and it is gra-
tified, there is nothing farther to afk.
Touchftone is properly matched with
Audrey : the finer! lady in the land could
only give him pleafure, and that he re-
ceives from his Dowdy.
" But, in my opinion, there is more
ftill to be faid for us Are you fure that a
box by the fide of a dufly road, is lefs
calculated for enjoyment, than a palace
fituated in a vaft park ? My neighbour
who poflefles fuch a palace, like you,
wonders at my bad tafte, which he con-
tinually abufes, for fear I mould fufpect
that he receives pleafure, when fitting in
my window, which he does for hours
together (notwithftanding the duft) in-
wardly envying my happinefs that I can
fee the world in motion.
" I have observed, that the poffefibrs
of great houfes have a marvellous affec-
tion to a little parlour ! Is it that the
mind fills a fmall fpace without effort,
and finds the whole within the fcope of
enjoyment ; while in a large one, it feems
to be making vain attempts to approach
what is out of its reach ? We fancy a little
parlour to come nearer, and be, as it
were, part of ourfelves ; while a great
room feems made for more than one, and
to belong not only to us, but to others.
Whether this reafoning be juft or not, it
is certain that you feldom are fliewn a
great houfe, but you are informed that
Ibme fmall room you were pafling unno-
ticed, is the place where the owner re-
fides the grand fuite of apartments is
for Grangers.
" You know that from our mops we
fee fucceflive crowds for ever pafiing.
Were we to retire to abfolute folitude,
the change would be too great to be re-
I 3 lifted.
[ "8 I
lifted. In fhort, we find by experience,
that a fmall houfe and garden, from
whence fomething may be feen that ex-
cites aniufement and attention, is more
for our pufpofe, than an extent of ground,
which offers nothing but the fame ob-
jects for ever repeated it may be well
calculated for magnificence -, but it mould
be remembered, that our purfuit is re-
laxation from bufinefs, and fuch relaxa-
tion as is attended with fomething we
can really underfland and enjoy."
On
On Wit.
XlAVING mentioned in my fhort EfTay
on Tafte * that wit was never fatisfa&o-
rily defined ; perhaps it may lead us to
fufpedt a want of precifion in the idea :
which is more natural, than to fuppofe
fuch perfons as Locke, Dryden, and Pope,
mould not have fagacity enough to define
what is fo well understood by the greateft
part of the world.
Locke's Reflection on Wit (as I find
it in the Spectator) is, " Men who have
" a great deal of wit and prompt memo-
" ries, have not always the cleared judg-
" ment, or deepeft reafon. For wit ly-
" ing moft in the aflemblage of ideas,
" and putting thefe together with quick -
14 " nefs
* In the Thirty Letters.
V
[ 120 ]
" nefs and variety, wherein can be found
" any refemblance or congruity, thereby
" to make up pleafant pictures and agree-
" able vilions in the fancy; judgment,
" on the contrary, lies quite on the other
" fide, in feparating carefully one from
" other ideas, wherein can be found the
" leaft difference, thereby to avoid being
" mifled by iimilitude, and by affinity to
" take one thing for another. This is a
" way of proceeding quite contrary to
" metaphor and allufion j wherein, for
" the moft part, lies that entertainment
" and pleafantry of wit which ftrikes fo
" lively on the fancy, and is therefore fo
" acceptable to all people." Sterne, in
his obfervations on this pafTage, has, in
his manner, demonilrated, that wit and
judgment, inflead of being feparated, go
together which is fo far true, that wit
is frequently connected with judgment \
but judgment will not often own wit as
a relation.
Dryden's
Dry den's Idea of Wit (taken alfo from
the Spectator) is " a propriety of words
and thoughts adapted to the fubjecY' on
which it is properly remarked, that " if
this be a true definition of wit, Euclid
was the greateft wit that ever fet pen to
paper. Addifon does not give a defini-
tion of his own, but feems to approve of
Locke's idea of the fubjecl:.
Wit, according to Pope, is
' " Nature to advantage drefs'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er fo well exprefs'd."
This does not belong peculiarly to wit,
but to all fine writing, where the ex -
premon is newer and better than the
fubjea.
If it be the property of a definition
that it peculiarly fuits the thing defined,
neither of the above can be juft each
differs from the other, and may be ap-
plied to other fubjedts* The definition
about
[ I" }
about to be offered, is of wit only, and
cannot agree with any thing elfe.
Wit, then, is the dexterous perfor-
mance of a legerdemain trick, by which
one idea is presented and another fubft'i-
tuted. In the performance of this trick, an
oppolition of terms is frequently, though
not always necerTary. The effect pro-
duced is an agreeable furprize, arifing
from expecting one thing and finding
another, or expecting nothing and having
fomething. A juggler is a wit in things.
A wit is a juggler in ideas and a punfter
is a juggler in words. Should there be
fome inftances of wit, which feem not to
agree with this definition; like other
particular inilanees, they muft be confi-
dered as exceptions to a general rule, but
not of fufficient confequence to deflroy it.
I mention this by way of anticipating and
obviating an objection that might pombly
be made ; but I declare my ignorance of
any example of real wit, which, if pro-
perly
[ 1*3 ]
perly analized, does not come under this
definition for fome things- pafs for wit,
which are not fo humour is frequently
miftaken for it both, it is true, are
fometimes blended together ; but, by at-
tending to the above definition, and a few
obfervations I mail make upon humour,
they may eaiiry be feparated, and each fet
in its proper province. Wit is alfo fre-
quently joined with a pun they are eafily
mingled, for, as is above hinted, a pun
is itfelf a fpecies of wit it exifts upon
the fame principle, but is formed of lefs
valuable materials as a word is inferior
to an idea.
Let us examine fuch common pieces
of wit as occur, and fee whether they
conform to my definition.
The trick of wit may be performed
without the aid of oppofition.
" / like port wine, fays one, / like
claret, fays another, " what wine do you
like ?"
like ?" fpeaking to a third" That of
other people."
But it may be performed better with
oppofition.
The weather in July proving wet and
ungenial; " when," fays one to Quin,
" do you remember fuch a fummer as
this ? " Laft winter."
Sometimes there is an oppofition of
terms joined with an oppofition of ideas
A lawyer making his will bequeathed
liis eftate to fools and madmen being
afked the reafon " from fuch," faid he,
" I had it, and to fuch I give it."
Wit is now and then mixed with a
pun
" How d'ye like the fhort petticoat of
the prefent faftrion?" fays a lady to a
gentleman " extremely," he replied,
" I care not to what height it is carried."
Wit
Wit is fometimes mixed with hu-
mour
Two perfons difputing upon religion,
one of them reproving his adverfary for
his obftinacy, offered to wager that he
could not repeat the Lord's Prayer
done, fays the other, and immediately
begun, " I believe in God," &c. repeat-
ing the Creed throughout very corredly.
Well, fays the other, I own I have loft,
I did not think he could have done it.
In all thefe examples it muft be per-
ceived, that it is the unexpected change
which produces the wit ; as in the dex-
terity of hand, it is fomething unlocked
for which makes the trick.
I have juft given an inftance of wit
joined with a pun, and another of wit
connected with humour the terms be-
ing well underftood I did not interrupt
my fubjecl: to explain them, but I have
a little to fay upon each.
A
t 126 ]
A pun is upon a fmaller fcale, that
which wit is upon a greater. As wit
confifts in a dexterous change of ideas, fo
does a pun in a dexterous change of words
the principle in both being the fame,
punning ought to be confidered as wit.
Manners, Earl of Rutland, telling Sir
Thomas More, that " Honores mutant
Mores," the other retorted, that it did
better in Englifh, Honours change Man-
ners.
A perfon being afked for a toaft, gave
the beginning of the third Pfalm which
was found to be " Lord How."
Punning then confifts in the dexterous
change of the meaning of the fame word,
or of fubftituting fome others, which to
the ear convey a likenefs of found. " I
am come to fee Orpheus," fays a gentle-
man at the Theatre (in boots) " yes,"
fays his friend, " and You-rid-I-fee."
The
[ "7 1
The eflence of a pun confifts in fomc
fuch changes as thefe : therefore, if it be
admitted that it is the dexterous change
which conftitutes wit, punning poiTeiTes
the change and the dexterity.
Humour has no fuch change, but con-
fifts either of treating a grave fubjed lu-
dicroufty, or a light one gravely if the
fubje&s admit of being fo treated. The
Tale of a Tub is a humourous fatire on
the abfurd tenets of religious fedts, not
on religion itfelf the former may, with-
out offence, be connected with humour,
but the laft is in its nature above it.
The moft perfect humour exiils in
Shakefpeare,* Swift, and Addifon, and
in many writers among the moderns : no
inftances of which will be found to be
wit, if tried by the above rule. An idea
has
* Shakefpeare abounds in humour, fometimcs
pure, more frequently mixed with puns but has
uot many inftances of real wit.
[ '28 ]
has prevailed, that humour is only known
in England : this cannot be true Cer-
vantes, Voltaire, and many other foreign
writers, afford proofs to the contrary.
There feem to be fome iubordinate
fources of humour which are not eafily
to be accounted for. Intemperance, no
doubt, is an odious vice, and every deli-
cate mind mufl be offended at it but,
drunken-characters in a play have fre-
quently a humourous and laughable ef-
fect Sir John Brute, and the Drunken-
Man in Lethe, are ftrong inftances.
The Irim brogue is furely no fubject
for ridicule a man born in Ireland mufl
of courfe fpeak like his neighbours but
on the flage it is a never- failing fource of
humour diveft an Irim character of the
brogue and it becomes nothing.
Stammering, by fome means or other,
has a connection with humour, efpecially
if
[ "9 ]
if imitated on the ftage, as we find from
Serjeant Bramble, in the Confcious Lo-
vers but, to return to my fubjecl:.
True wit, fays Voltaire, is univerfal
it is fo, provided all nations are in equal
poifeflion of the circumftances which at-
tended its production, and which necef-
farily accompany it. There are few
pieces of wit, but are, in fome meafure,
local. The fprightly fallies in converfa-
tion are not only local, but temporary;
yet they are as truly wit for the time and
place, as the moil general fubjecl: would
be for the univerfe, and would be fo ac-
knowledged, if explained and underflood.
Many a witty reply owes all its force to
fome allufion only "known to the com-
pany, or perhaps to one fingle perfon
explain that circumftance, and the wit
would be univerfally confefled.
Some expreffions pafs for wit which
certainly belong to a different clafs.
??* K A
A foldier, finding a horfe-moe, ftuck
it into his girdle a bullet hit him on the
very part. " Well, fays he, I find a
little armour will ferve the turn, if it be
but rightly placed." A fenfible reflec-
tion, but not wit.
Garrick afked Rich " how much Co-
vent-Garden houfe would hold?" " I
mould know to a milling, replied Rich,
if you would play Richard in it." An
elegant compliment, and better than wit.
Having, perhaps, thrown fome light
on this fubjecl:, I will leave it to the
reader's fagacity to improve thefe fhort
hints, and compleat what I have nattily
fketched but, before I conclude, per-
mit me to give an inftance of wit com-
bined with humour and pun, and the ra-
ther, as it flands in need of a flight in-
troduction, which will ferve as a proof
of local wit becoming univerfal, when
rightly underflood.
When
When the Jefuits were difperfed, Vol-
taire's Chateau afforded an afylum to
one of them, an inoffenfive prieft called
Adam. " Give me leave," fays Voltaire
to his company, " to introduce to you
Father Adam but not thejirft of men'
it is mort, but comprehends more than
may appear at the firft glance.
After having, I hope, proved that a
wit is a jugler ; I do not think it necef-
fary to prove, that a jugler is a wit, it
being a felf-evident propoiition, if we
admit the principle I have endeavoured
to eftablifh, of both depending on a fubfti-
tution of one thing for another by a dex-
terous cJiange.
K2 An
An Indian
W HEN the hofts of the mighty Timur
fpread from the deferts of Tartary over
the fertile plains of Indoftan, numerous,
and deftroying as locufts; their chief,
glorying in the greatnefs of his ftrength,
furveyed with an averted look the moun-
tains he had patted, and fmiled at the
barrier he had furmounted. " By forti-
tude and valour, faid he, we fubdue our
enemies j by patience and perfeverance
we overcome" even the ftupendous works
of nature, which has elevated mountains
in vain, to flop the progrefs of him de-
termined to conquer !" While his heart
dilated with pride, the foldiers ravaged
the country through which they pafled,
committing all the exceffes an unrefifted
army inflicts on the wretched inhabitants.
" Bring
[ '33 1
" Bring me to your chief," exclaimed
a fage they had dragged from his retreat,
" let me behold this mighty conqueror
before my eyes are clofed in endlefs night ;
perchance the words of Zadib may enter
his ears may reach his heart !"
The air of dignity with which he ut-
tered this, arrefted the fword of the fol-
diers " Behold," iaid they to Timur,
" a man of years who feeketh thy pre-
fence." " My defire," faid Zadib, " is to
confer with the mighty Scythian he is
great, but will not turn afide from the
wifdom of experience." " Speak freely,~
replied Timur, " an enemy incapable of
refiftance I treat as a friend enter with
me this Temple of Viftnoo inftrudtion
cannot be heard amid the noife of a paf-
fing army."
" The lilence of this facred place,"
begun Zadib, " is favourable to my fub-
O Viftnoo endue thy votary with
K 3 confidence
[ 34 3
confidence to utter the words of truth
before this leader of armies, and prepare
his mind to receive thy wifdom ; of
which my tongue is but the feeble or-
gan !" " Viftnoo," fays Timur, " is no
God of mine, but a benefit is always to
be received with gratitude if I profit
from his infpiration, this temple mall
flame with my offerings."
" What could induce the chief," com-
menced Zadib, " of the wide-extended
plains of Tartary, to leave the habitation
of his progenitors, and feek in lands re-
mote for what his own fo much better
afforded ? Are the paflures of Indoftan
more fertile than thofe of Scythia, is the
milk of our mares more plentiful, or the
flelh of our horfes fuperior to thofe of
the country which gave thee life ? No,
thefe things are not fo the burning
fun fcorches our herbage, our cattle yield
but little milk, nor afford flefh worthy
the hunger of a Tartar. Why then doft
thou
thou inflict the miferies of war on the in-
nocent inhabitants of this country, at the
lofs of fo many enjoyments to thyfelf ?"
" To increafe my glory !" fternly replied
Timur, " the defire of glory is the paf-
lion of us who are elevated into the rank
of heroes ; for this we thirft, for this we
We hunger, and leave to common mor-
tals the flelh and milk of mares !"
" If the defire of glory cannot be gra-
tified but by the deftruction of mankind,"
meekly returned Zadib, " furely it had
better be repreffed what good can arife
from glory that is to be compared to the
mifchief by which it is attended?" " Thou
talkefl like a fage and a philofopher,"
faid Timur more mildly, " and delireft
to make man as he mould be, which is
importable my part to act, is that of a
prince, who confiders man as he is ; and
who treats mankind, as every individual
would treat him, had he the fame means
in his power. It is deftiny, and the im-
K 4 provement
[ '36 ]
provement of opportunity, that makes a
tyrant thofe to whom fate is averfe,
muft fubmit and be filent."
" Brahma forbid !" exclaimed Zadib:
<( None can withftand defHny ; but what
virtuous man would feek an opportunity
to lord it over his fellow-mortals ?" " Be
allured," returned Timur, " that virtue
is an acquirement. Man, by nature, is
felfim and cruel ; all infants are fo thefe
natural paffions are by education oppofed,
and by degrees concealed ; but never per-
fectly fubdued my delire for glory, then,
is affifted by my original paffions of cru-
elty and felfimnefs j which, by being a
prince, I can extend to the utmoft."
" If, by being a prince," faid Zadib,
" I muft, from neceffity, be cruel and
felfilh may the humble ftate be ever
mine !" *' Man alfo poffefTes a deiire for
fuperiority," continued Timur, " which
produces a wiih for fplendor and riches.
By
[ 137 ]
By nature all are equal, but circuinflanccs
have fixed thee in a ftation where defires
mufl be reftrained, and have placed me
where they may be indulged could we
change conditions, be allured, thy paf-
fions would expand as foon as their re-
ftraint was taken off, and thou wouldfl
be then, as Timur is now."
" Can a worm of the earth be proud ?"
humbly replied Zadib, " What is man
but an atom, which can only be conli-
derable by virtue? When I confider
this, I avoid the firft approach of pride,
and abhor that wicked principle which
feeks its gratification by the mifery of
others." " Call not a conqueror wicked,'.'
returned Timur marply, " he is fimply
a man lie has an opportunity of mewing
his nature undifguifed, and ufes it. The
fage is fomething more, and fomething
lefs than man. He is more, as he 'has
added to the gifts of nature ; he is lefs,
by difcarding his natural propeniities , but
they
[ '38 ]
they retire no farther than to be within
call"
" They are difcarded for ever!" ut-
tered Zadib. The fuddennefs of the re-
ply occaiioned, for a while, a paufe in
this moral and philofophical conference,
in which neither party gained on his ad-
verfary at length Timur, with com-
placence, broke filence " Zadib," faid
he, " thy good qualities mall no longer
be hidden in obfcurity thou malt be my
Vizir be it my bufmefs to fubdue, and
thine to govern."
" Unworthy of the high honour as I
am," replied Zadib, his eyes fparkling
with pleafure ; " yet fhall thy flave en-
deavour to difcharge the duties of fo great
a function." " But doft thou reflect,"
faid Timur, " that the higher the flation,
the greater is the fcope for vice ? Thou
art now low, poor, and virtuous ; but
when thou art the fecond perfon in my
empire,
t '39 ]
empire, thou wilt be great, rich, and
wicked" " That philofophy I have early
acquired," replied Zadib, " fhall fecure
me from the firft approaches of vice< in-
veft me with the robe of honour, and be
confident of my obedience to thy high
commands."
" Zadib," returned Timur, " thou
muft now be convinced, that original
pride, and a wim for greatnefs, lay lurk-
ing within thee, and was never effaced
that thy virtue is an artificial acquirement,
which vanimes before the original im-
preffions of nature but why mould I
proceed ? Thy heart bears witnefs to the
truth of my words, for the blufti of con-
fcioufnefs is on thy face reply not I
will give thee no opportunity to lofe
what thou haft with fo much difficulty
acquired, for the man of nature mufl
foon appear thou feeft him in me ! go
in peace to thy cell go, and continue to
be virtuous but leave me to lead on my
victorious
[ ,40 J
vi&orious Tartars, until I acquire that
glorious appellation, THE CONQUEROR
OF THE WORLD I"
Different
r
Different Ufes of Reading and Cvnverf
AN barbarous times, when converfation
had no other topic than what immediate
occafion or neceffary employment pro-
duced (which was once the cafe) it is
evident, that no knowledge could be ob-
tained but from books.
As civilization advanced, and com-
merce produced focial intercourfe, con-
verfation grew more enlarged, and know-
ledge was gained from the mouth as well
as from the pen. This undoubtedly was
an improvement in every fenfe. la
France both fexes firft affembled on an
eafy footing, and it was in that country
where knowledge from books was firfl
neglected.
This
[ '42 ]
This principle fpread with the lan-
guage and manners, and it foon became
fafhionable to call the learning acquired
from reading, pedantry. As I conlider
this to be the prefent ftate of things in
our own country, I have a few words to
fay in defence of the inftruction obtained
from books, and to give fome reafons
why it ought, for all fubftantial purpofes,
to be preferred to that which arifes from
converfation.
The objed: of converfation is enter-
tainment the objedl: of reading is in-
ftruction. No doubt, converfation may
inftruct, and reading may entertain ; but
this occaiional aiTumption of each other's
charadteriftic, only varies the principle,
without destroying it.
When perfons ccnverfe, deep difqui-
fltion is out of place the fubjects mould
be general and light, in which all may
be fuppofed capable of joining. Every
thing
t
thing profeffional is avoided, which, whe-
ther from the divine, the lawyer, the
phyfician, the merchant, or foldier, is
equally pedantic as from the fcholar.
All debate is munned, left warmth might
become heat. If fire be produced by the
collifion of fentiments, it mould juft mine
for a moment, like the harmlefs coruf-
cations of a fummer evening, but not
pierce like lightning.
Converfation, to be agreeable, mould
be divided equally no one mould en-
grofs it, or neglect to furnifli his quota
but as it requires fome practice, and per-
haps, talents, to engage in fmall-talk,
without afcending into an upper region,
or linking into vacuity -, thofe who find
a difficulty in fleering this middle courfe,
and think it neceflary to keep up the
fhuttle-cock of converfation ; occafionally
hazard an expreflion, which will not
bear ftridt examination, but it may ap-
pear fufficiently like truth for the prefent
purpofe,
[ H4 I
purpofe, and to be adopted as fuch here-
after. Truth is fometimes overcome by
wit a lively repartee will at any time
put it to flight. Strength may crufh and
kill, but fmartnefs makes the ftroke to
be felt.
In converfation it is not eafy to avoid
falsities. A flory is begun, of which the
relator has only a general knowledge
as he proceeds, he is obliged to fill up
the deficiencies of memory by invention ;
the next relator does the fame, and pro-
bably, in different places. After a few
of thefe oral editions, truth is entirely
fupplanted by falfehood. If this happen
when there is no intention to deceive,
what muft be the effect when the varia-
tion is not accidental ?
To difcover truth is feldom the inten-
tion of converfation. Should a difpute
arife, its object is not to eftabliih facts,
but to obtain victory. If the maxims of
our
[ '45 ]
our great moralifl were to be taken from
topics he has defended, or contradicted
in company, he muft be confidered as the
moll: abfurd of mortals this might be
fport to him, but it was death to others :
the worfhippers of this idol considering
him as a real divinity, and his words as
oracles.
Thefe circumftances, and many others
not enumerated, very much difqualify
converfation from being a fchool of in-
ftruction. If we wim for real informa-
tion, we muft undoubtedly feek it from
its old fource.
As converfation is furnimed from the
impulfe of the moment; books confift of
digefted thoughts, which are felected
from many others thefe are improved,
added to, or curtailed, upon mature and
frequent deliberation the author is hur-
ried into nothing, but whatever his
ideas are upon the fubjecl; he has chofen,
L * he
he may give them that order and ex-
prefiion which will mew his meaning
cleareft and beft. And furely it cannot
admit of a moment's doubt, whether ma-
ture conceptions, put into form, are not
fuperior to expreflaons from accident, and
momentary impulfe not to mention the
multitude of fubjedts, which, in com-
pany, will not admit of any difcuflion.
We may then venture to aflert the
fuperiority of books over converfation,
where inftruction is the object ; without
having the leafl intention of depreciating
the pleafures of fociety.
Charafter
Character of Gain/borough.
JLN the early part of my life I became
acquainted with Thomas Gainfborough
the painter -, and as, his character was,
perhaps, better known to me than to any
other perfon, I will endeavour to diveft
myfelf of every partiality, and fpeak of
him as he really was. I am the rather
induced to this, by feeing accounts of
him and his works given by people who
were unacquainted with either, and, con-
fequently, have been miftaken in both.
Gainfborough's profeffion was painting,
and mufic was his amufement yet, there
were times when mulic feemed to be his
employment, and painting his diverfion.
As his fkill in mufic has been celebrated,
I will, before I fpeak of him as a painter,
L 2 mention
[ 148 ]
mention what degree of merit he pro-
fefled as a mufician.
When I firfl knew him he lived at
Bath, where 'Giardini had been exhibit-
ing his then unrivalled powers on the
violin. His excellent performance made
Gainfborough enamoured of that inftru-
ment ; and conceiving, like the Servant-
maid in the Spectator, that the mufic lay
in the fiddle, he was frantic until he pof-
fefied the very initrument which had
given him fo much pleafure but feemed
much furprized that the mulic of it re-
mained behind with Giardini !
He had fcarcely recovered this mock
(for it was a great one to him) when he
heard^Abel on the viol-di-gamba. The
violin was hung on the willow Abel's
viol-di-gamba was purchafed, and the
houfe refounded with melodious thirds
and fifths from " morn to dewy eve !"
Many an Adagio and many a Minuet were
begun
[ H9 ]
begun, but none compleated this was
wonderful, as it was Abel's own inftru-
ment, and therefore ought to have pro-
duced Abel's own mufic !
Fortunately, my friend's paflion had
now a frem object Fifcher's hautboy
but I do not recoiled: that he deprived
Fifcher of his inftrument: and though
he procured a hautboy, I never heard
him make the leaft attempt on it. Pro-
bably his ear was too delicate to bear the
difagreeable founds which neceflarily at-
tend the firft beginnings on a wind-in-
ftrument. He feemed to content himfelf
with what he heard in public, and getting
Fifcher to play to him in private not
on the hautboy, but the violin but this
was a profound fecret, for Fifcher knew
that his reputation was in danger if he
pretended to excel on two inftruments.*
The
* It was at this time that I heard Fifcher play a
folo on the violin, and accompany himfelf on the
L 3 fame
The next time I faw Gainfborough it
was in the character of King David. He
had heard a harper at Bath the performer
was foon left harplefs and now Fifcher,
Abel, and Giardini were all forgotten
there was nothing like chords and arpeg-
gios I He really ftuck to the harp long
enough to play feveral airs with varia-
tions, and, in a little time, would nearly
have exhaufted all the pieces ufually per-
formed on an inftrument incapable of
modulation, (this was not a pedal-harp)
when another vifit from Abel brought
him back to the viol-di-gamba.
He now faw the imperfection of fud-
den founds that inftantly die away if
you wanted a Jiaccato, it was to be had
by a proper management of the bow, and
you might alfo have notes as long as you
pleafe. The viol-di-gamba is the only
infhrument,
fame inftrument the air of the folo was executed
with the bow, and the accompaniment pizzicato
with die unemployed fingers of his left hand.
inftrument, and Abel the prince of mu-
ficians !
This, and occafionally a little flir-
tation with the fiddle, continued fome
years ; when, as ill-luck would have it,
he heard Crofdill but, by fome irregu-
larity of conduct, for which I cannot ac-
count, he neither took up, nor bought,
the violoncello. All his pafiion for the
Bafs was vented in defcriptions of Crof-
dill's tone and bowing, which was rap-
turous and enthufiaftic to the lafl de-
gree.
More years now palled away, when
upon feeing a Theorbo in a picture of
Vandyke's ; he concluded (perhaps, be-
caufe it was finely painted) that the The-
r bo muft be a fine inftrument. He re-
collected to have heard of a German
profeflbr, who, though no more, I mail
forbear to name afcended per varies
L 4 ; gradus
gradus to his garret, where he found him
at dinner upon a roafted apple, and fmo-
king a pipe * * * fays he, I am come
to buy your lute
" To pay my fade!"
Yes come, name your price, and here
is your money.
" I cannod fliell my lude !"
No, not for a guinea or two, but by
G you muft fell it.
" May lude ifh iverf much monnay ! it
ijli wert ten guinea."
That it is fee, here is the money.
" Well if I mujlit but you 'will not
take it away yourflielf?"
Yes, yes good bye * * *
(After he had gone down he came up
again)
* * * I have done but half my errand
What is your lute worth, if I have not
your book ?
" Whad poog, Maijhter Cainfporough ?
Why, the book of airs you have com-
pofed for the lute.
|fe " Ah,
[ 153 1
" Ally py cot, I can never part wit my
Poh ! you can make another at any
time this is the book I mean (putting
it in his pocket)
" Ah t py coty I cannot"
Come, come, here's another ten gui-
neas for your book fo, once more, good
day t'ye (defcends again, and again
comes up) But what ufe is your book to
me, if I don't underftand it ? and your
lute you may take it again, if you won't
teach me to play on it Come home
with me, and give me my firil leflbn
" I 'will gome to marrow"
You muft come now.
" Imufht trefs myflielf"
For what ? You are the beft figure I
have feen to day
" Ay mufht be fliave"
I honour your beard !
" Ay muflit bud on my wtk"
D n your wig ! your cap and beard
become you ! do you think if Vandyke
was
[ '54 ]
was to paint you he'd let you be
fhaved ?
In this manner he frittered away his
mufical talents ; and though pouefled of
ear, tafte, and genius, he never had ap-
plication enough to learn his notes. He
fcorned to take the firft ftep, the fecond
was of courfe out of his reach -, and the
fummit became unattainable. ,
As a painter, his abilities may be con-
fidered in three different departments.
Portrait,
Landfcape, and
Groups of Figures to which muft be
added his Drawings.
To take thefe in the abovementioned
order.
The firil confideration in a portrait,
efpecially to the purchafer, is, that it
be a perfect likenefs of the fitter in
this refpect, his fkill was unrivalled
the
[ -55 1
the next point is, that it is a good
picture here, he has as often failed as
fucceeded. He failed by affecting a thin
waihy colouring, and a hatching ilyle of
pencilling but when, from accident or
choice, he painted in the manly fubftan-
tial flyle of Vandyke, he was very little,
if at all, his inferior. It mews a great
defect in judgment, to be from choice,
wrong, when we know what is right.
Perhaps, his beft portrait is that known
among the painters by the name of the
Blue-boy it was in the pofieffion of Mr.
Buttall, near Newport-market.
There are three different aeras in his
landfcapes his firfl manner was an imi-
tation of Ruyfdael, with more various co-
louring the fecond, was an extravagant
loofenefs of pencilling; which, though
reprehenfible, none but a great mafter
can poflefs his third manner, was a folid
firm ftyle of touch.
At
[ "56 ]
At this laft period he pcfTefTed his
greateft powers, and was (what every
painter is at fome time or other) fond of
varnim. This produced the ufual effects
improved trie picture for two or three
months ; then ruined it for ever ! With
all his excellence in this branch of the
art, he was a great mannerifl but the
word of his pictures have a value, from
the facility of execution which excel-
lence I mall again mention.
His groups of figures are, for the moft
part, very pieafing, though unnatural
for a town -girl, with her cloaths in rags,
is not a ragged country-girl. Notwith-
flanding this remark, there are number-
lefs inftances of his groups at the door of
a cottage, or by a fire in a wood, &c.
that are fo pleafing as to difarm criticifm.
He fometimes (like Murillo) gave inte-
reft to a fmgle figure his Shepherd's boy,
Woodman, Girl and pigs, are equal to the
befl pictures on fuch fubjecl's his Fight-
ing
ing-dogs, Girl warming herfelf, and fome
others, hew his great powers in this
ftyle of painting. The very diftinguimed
rank the Girl and pigs held at Mr. Ca-
lonne's fale, in company with fome of
the beft pictures of the heft mailers, will
fully juftify a commendation which might
elfe feem extravagant.
If I were to reft his reputation upon
one point, it mould be on his Drawings.
No man ever poflerTed methods fo va-
rious in producing effect, and all excel-
lent his wafby, hatching ftyle, was here
in its proper element. The fubject which
is fcarce enough for a pidure, is fufficient
for a drawing, and the hafty loofe hand-
ling, which in painting is poor, is rich
in a tranfparent warn of biftre and Indian,
ink. Perhaps the quickeft effects ever
produced, were in fome of his drawings
and this leads me to take up again his
facility of execution.
Many
Many of his pictures have no other
merit than this facility; and yet, having
it, are undoubtedly valuable. His draw-
ings almoft reft on this quality alone for
their value ; but porTefTing it in an emi-
nent degree (and as no drawing can have
any merit where it is wanting) his works,
therefore, in this branch of the art, ap-
proach nearer to perfection than his
paintings.
If the term facility explain not itfelf ;
inftead of a definition, I will illuftrate it.
Should a performer of middling exe-
cution on the violin, contrive to get
through his piece, the moft that can be
faid, is, that he has not failed in his at-
tempt. Should Cramer perform the fame
mufic, it would be fo much within his
powers, that it would be executed with
cafe. New, the fuperiority of pleafure,
which arifes from the execution of a
Cramer, is enjoyed from the facility of a
Gainfborough.
[ '59 ]
Gainfborough. A poor piece performed
by one, or a poor fubject taken by the
other, give more pleafure by the manner
in which they are treated, than a good
piece of mufic, and a fublime fubject in
the hands of artifls that have not the
means by which effects are produced, m
fubjeffiion to them. To a good painter or
mufician this illuftration was needlefs j
and yet, by them only, perhaps, it will
be felt and underftood.
By way of addition to this fketch of
Gainfborough, let me mention a few mi-
cellaneous particulars.
He had no relim for hiftorical painting
he never fold, but always gave away
his drawings ; commonly to perlbns who
were perfectly ignorant of their value,*
He
* He prefented twenty drawings to a lady, who
pafted them to the wainfcot of her dreffing-room.
Sometime after me'left the houfe : the drawings,
of courfe, become the temporary property of every
tenant
f ,60 ]
He hated the harpfichord and the piano-
forte. He difliked ringing, particularly
in parts. He detefted reading ; but was
fo like Sterne in his Letters, that, if it
were not for an originality that could be
copied from no one, it might be fuppofed
that he had formed his ftyle upon a clofe
imitation of that author. He had as
much pleafure in looking at a violin as
in hearing it I have feen him for many
. minutes fur v eying,, in iilence, the per-
fections of an instrument, from the juft
proportion of the model, and beauty of
the workmanfhip.
His converfation was fprightly, but
licentious his favourite fubjects were
murk and painting, which he treated in
a manner peculiarly his own. The com-
mon topics, or any of a fuperior caft, he
thoroughly hated, and always interrupted
by fome ftroke of wit or humour.
"The
The indifcriminate admirers of my late
friend will confider this fketch of his cha-
radler as far beneath his merit j but it
mufr. be remembered, that my wifh was
not to make it perfect, but jufl. The
fame principle obliges me to add that
as to his common acquaintance he was
fprightly and agreeable, fo to his inti-
mate friends he was iincere and honefr,
and that his heart was always alive to
every feeling of honour and generofity.
He died with this expreffion "We
are all going to Heaven, and Vandyke is
of the party" Strongly expreffive of a
good heart, a quiet confcience, and a
love for his profeffion, which only left
him with his life.
M Character
[ 162 ]
Character of Sir yofliua Reynolds.
AN a fhort time after the lofs of Gainf-
borough, the world fuftained a greater
by the death of Sir Jofhua Reynolds.
My acquaintance with him and his works
enable me to give a {ketch of both,
which, if ihort, mall be faithful.
Sir Jofhua had the reputation of being
a man of genius and knowledge, in his
profeffion and out of it to deny this
would be abfurd, but our afTent muft not
be an implicit faith. I will firft enquire
into his merits as an artift, and then as
a man of general fcience.
He began his profeffion as a portrait
painter, and his works were foon diftin-
guiihed by an elegance of defign that had
not
not been feen in England fince the time
of Kneller. To balance this excellence,
his likenefles were frequently defective,
and his colouring cold and weak but
this muft be confidered only as the ge-
neral character of his performances at that
time; for even in his earlieft days, there
were instances of his producing pictures
of confiderable merit.
A very few years had elapfed, before
it was obferved, that his pictures were
changed from their original hue; and the
change, in fome, was fo great, as to oc-
calion a belief that the colours were gone
off. Perfons, who are ignorant of the
mechanical part of painting, reported,
that Reynolds knew not how to fix his
colours, and that his pictures, in a fhort
time, would ceafe to exift. As this mat-
ter has never been understood, I will flop
a moment to explain it.
M2 The
[ 1 64 ]
The dead-colouring* of his pictures,
at this period, was little elfe than flake,
Pruffian blue, and lake. All the laying-
in coniifted of thefe three tints. When
the picture was quite dry, he gave it a
warm glaze, which fupplied all that was
originally wanting, and produced a har-
mony in the whole, which was very
agreeable and feducing to the eye, when
frefh done but after a while, the dry-
ing-oil, (fometimes exchanged for var-
nifh) with which the pictures were glazed
turned dark j and, by degrees, grew more
and more obfcure, until the effect was as
bad as if they had been covered with a
dirty piece of horn. There are great
numbers where the face can fcarce be dif-
tinguifhed, and where the drapery is en-
tirely hidden with this brown cruft.
The colours then, are not gone off,
but imprifoned they are obfcured be-
yond
* It is impoffible to write on Art without uiing
technical terms.
yond the reach of art to reftore; and all
pidlures of this defcription, will continue
to grow worfe and worfe, until the change
of the oil, or varnifh,. has attained its
maximum.
This practice (of depending fo much
upon glazing) occafioned the painters to
whifper, that Reynolds did not paint/Zwr,
and that he dealt too much in trick.
I dare fay that the fevereft cenfures
came from himfelf; and he, atlaft, grew
tired of a practice which he knew muft
obftrucl: his progrefs to fame, and began,
at laft, to paint honeflly.
The firft pidure that I recoiled:, after
this change in his manner, was the por-
trait of the Lord Primate of Ireland ad-
mirable in every refped! It was fol-
lowed by many others truly excellent;
and he continued in this ftyle for many
years.
M 3 As
[ 166 ]
As he pofTerTed fome pictures of Ru-
bens, and might fee as many as he plea-
fed, it was difficult not to be feduced by
their fplendor. I once heard him fay,
" that a lingle picture of Rubens was
enough to illuminate a room!" There
is fomething like an emanation of glory
from a fine picture of this mafter, which
is felt and adored by a kindred genius.
In one of the churches at Antwerp is a
picture of Rubens, at the High Altar,
which feems to be feen by its own light,
at the farther end of the church.
This magic of colouring was the fa-
vourite purfuit of Sir Jomua for the laft
ten years of his life : but, like other eager
purfuers, he was not always in the right
track. He may furely be fuppofed wrong,
when, to obtain force, he loaded his
lights with fo great a quantity of colour,
that the different layers and touches
frequently
[ 167 js
frequently feparated from the ground,
merely by their weight.*
This excefs he wifely abandoned, and
long before his death he confidered pic-
tures, not as models, but furfaces.
It was at this period of his practice
that he introduced the red madows of
Rubens ; which, though unnatural, are
the chief caufe of the fplendor of the
pictures of that matter. Gainfborough
once dealt in red madows > and as he was
fond of referring every thing to nature,
or where nature was not to be had, to
fomething fubftituted for it,J he con-
trived
* I once heard him bleffedby a houfe-maid, who
faid (wiping the floor) " that the ftuff whicli was
always falling from that great pi&ure made the
room in a perpetual litter ! I wifh it would all
come down at once !"
J He made little laymen for human figures. All
the female figures in his Park-fcene he drew from
doll of his own creation. He modelled his horfes
M 4 and
trived a lamp with the fides painted with
vermillion, which illuminated the fha-
dows of his figures, and made them like
the fplendid impofitions of Rubens.
After Sir Jofhua had abated fomething
of the violence of thefe fhadows, he was
in the zenith of his art. It was at this
period he produced his Venus and the
Death of Cardinal Beaufort, which will
make his name equal with the greatefl
mailers. Of the Venus there is a dupli-
cate with fome fmall variation. The co-
louring is at leaft equal to Titian, but
much fuperior to that painter in elegance
of defign. The Cardinal Beaufort has a
warm glaze, which is rather too apparent.
He
and cows, and knobs of coal fat for rocks nay, he
carried this fo far, that he never chofe to paint any
tiling from invention, when he could have the ob-
jefts thernfelves. The limbs of trees, which he
collected, would have made no inconfiderable
wood-rick, and many an afs has been led into his
painting- room.
[ 169 ]
He had tryjed, if not all things, yet,
many things, and held faft thole which
were right but in one circumflance he
was ever wrong. In common with Van-
dyke, and a hoft of other painters, he
had two, and fometimes three different
points of fight in the fame picture. I
have eifewhere* demonftrated the falfity
of this practice in a fcientific view, and
its ill'effedt in every fenfe. A whole-
length portrait of a child, with an hori-
zon no higher than the ancles, gives one
the idea of an infant as tall as a fteeple,
which is difcordant and ridiculous one
of his prettieft pictures was a child with
fuch an horizon.
The above obfervations on colouring
apply equally to his portraits and hiftories.
The firft hiflorical fubjedt, in point of
time, that occurs to me, is Garrick be-
tween
* In the Thirty Letters.
tween Tragedy and Comedy which is a
modernizing of Hercules between virtue
and pleafure. It was painted long before
the reformation in his colouring ; but,
notwithstanding that difad vantage, it is
fo perfect in all other refpects, that it
muft be confidered as one of the happieft
efforts of his pencil.
It is not my intention to enter upon a
criticifm, or even catalogue of his per-
formances, or indeed to mention any
picture -, unles it contains fome peculia-
rity, by which a more correct judgement
may be formed of his fkill, or the want
of it. Suffice it then to fay, that there
are trifling defects in moil of them, which
an ordinary genius might have avoided;
and tranfcendent beauties, which few,
perhaps none, could have reached but
himfelf. The/ktaft * of the infant Her-
cules
* I call it a iketch, becaufe it was evidently a
fludy for the great picture, but it was compleat in
every
cules I have ever confidered as the firft
production of his pencil, and the greateft
effort of modern art.
He frequently painted hiftorical por-
traits one of the beft is that of Mrs.
Siddons in the character of the Tragic
Mufe it has grandeur in the conception
and execution but the fublimity of this
picture is much abated by the abominable
chair, which is fo ugly and difcordant, as
to force our attention to fuch a fubordi-
nate circumftance nor is that the worft,
for one of the odious knobs cuts the line
of the arm, and fubftitut.es a difagreeable
break, where every thing mould be broad
and grand. I very much diilike the ef-
fect of the chair in the King's portrait at
the
every relpeft. Surely one of the grandeft charac-
ters that ever mind conceived, or hand executed !
If the reft of the figures had been only a woman or
two, and in the fame ftyle, the infant would have
kept its confequence, which is now loft amid a
group of figures that offend probability, and deflroy
the effecl: of the pifture.
[ I 7 2 ]
the Royal Academy : although it be the
coronation chair, we mould obferve, that
when the King fat in it, the whole was
richly covered as a plain chair, it is
fcarcely good enough for a country bar-
ber's (hop where 1 heartily wifh it had
been fent, before the imitation occurred,
which has fo much hurt this capital per-
formance.
In one of his early historical portraits,
the idea feems to be a reproach inftead of
a compliment, he painted Lady Sarah
Lennox as facrificing to the Graces. A
little examination of the fubjecl:, will, I
believe, mew that it was a wrong con-
ception.
A poet once carried his verfes to a
friend (fays Addifon, from whom I take
the ftory) who returned them with ad-
viiing him " to facrifice to the Graces"
plainly infinuating, that he thought his
poetry deftitute of elegance, and that he
mould
[ '73 ]
mould endeavour to propitiate the deities
who were unfavourable to him the ap-
plication is obvious.
About the beginning of this century
was a painter in Exeter called Gandy,*
of whofe colouring Sir Jofhua thought
highly. I heard him fay, that on his re-
turn from Italy, when he was frefli from
feeing the pictures of the Venetian School,
he again looked at the works of Gandy,
and that they had loft nothing in his eili-
mation.
It has been obferved, that Sir Jofhua
was my of painting feet, and feldom ven-
tured beyond the toe of a fhoe peeping
out from a petticoat -rthere is fome rea-
fon for this remark but many things
might
* There are many pi&ures of this artift in Exe-
ter, and its neighbourhood. The portrait Sir Jo-
ftiua feemed moft to value, is in the Hall belonging
to the College of Vicars in that city but I have
feen fome very much fuperior to it.
[ 174 ]
might be offered to excufe, though not
fufficient to defend the practice.
There are fewer drawings by this great
artift than by any other of eminence.
Perhaps, prevented by more important
occupations, or for want of early practice,
he might not polfefs the faculty of produ-
cing effect by chalks, warning, penning,
or any other of the numberlefs methods
by which drawings are made. The great
merit of which confifts of effect quickly
produced. This facility cannot be at-
tained, however good our ideas may be,
without immenfe praclice. Gainfborough
was for ever drawing, and had this faci-
lity ; but there are not many proofs, that,
in this fenfe, Sir Jofhua drew at all.
His judgment of pictures differed from
connoiffeurs in general; was peculiar,
and his own. Very moderate ones (ta
the common judge) he has fpoken highly
of; and very good ones (upon the ufual
principle
principle) he has much undervalued.
His own collection (with fome illuftrious
exceptions) and the little attention paid
to R^h's exhibition, feem to juftify
this remark. Fifty quotations * from as
many different authors will never make
the Joconde of Leonardo da Vinci worth
fifty pence the fame may be faid of the
Leda of Michael Angelo, and of many
others which wanted other requires to
make them of value. But it mould be
obferved, that an artift frequently buys
a picture for its poffeffing fomething that
is of ufe to him, and which is undifcern-
able by the common eye and this ac-
counts for his having many 'pictures, the
merit of which was only known to
himfelf.
Jt was not apparent that Sir Jomua
was a fcholar, in the ufual acceptation of
the
* In the catalogue were extrafb, from a variety
of writers, to Ihew the excellence of fome of the
pidures;
[ '76 ]
the word but his converfation and wri-
tings mewed a mind ftrongly tinctured
with modern literature and refinement.
There is much ingenuity and originality
in all his academic difcourfes perhaps
there would have been more of both, if
he had dared to make off the fetters in
which long literary flavery has confined
us. Where he has done fo, as in his
Notes on Frefnoy, and his Eloge on
Gainfborough, it is evident that he could
think, and think juftly, forhimfelf. His
ftyle is fimple and unaffected, and per-
fectly expreffive of his ideas, which, in
fad:, is faying every thing. Thofe who
thought his difcourfes had been corrected
by Dr. Johnfon, were abfurd in the ex-
treme. Sir Jofhua knew perfectly well
that Johnfon was the laft man in the
world for fuch a purpofe, and, befides,
muft be confident that he himfelf was
fully equal to the expreffion of his own
thoughts. Johnfon and Sir Jomua, it is
true, were intimate friends, but they
were
were as unlike in every thing as two fen-
fible men could be. This matter admits
of proof their writings bear not the leafl
refemblance to each other in fubjedt,
manner, or ftyle,
Whatever defedls a critical eye might
find in his works, a microfcopic eye could
difcover none in his heart. If conftant
good-humour and benevolence, if the
abfence of every thing difagreeable, and
the prefence of every thing pleafant, be
recommendations for a companion, Sir
Jofhua had thefe accomplishments. His
unfortunate deafnefs occafioned a practice
of loud fpeaking at his table, which to
thofe who were unufed to it was very
unpleafantj* but it was, notwithftand-
* The greatefl part of what is faid in company
is only good at the moment if you are obliged to
repeat it, and with vehemence ; what was before
important enough for the occafion, pretends to too
much, and becomes a mere nothing.
N
[ J78 ]
ing, the conftant refort of the firft people
in England for rank and talents, by whom
Sir Jofhua was efteemed and beloved
and this is the utmoft to which man can
attain. The great, the wife, the inge-
nious, and the good, ever confidered it
as an honour to be known as the friends
and intimates of Sir Jofhua Reynolds !*
With the fame freedom that I have
fketched the characters of thofe two great
painters, I will fet their merits in oppo-
Jition to each other for the ufual word of
parallel will not ferve the purpofe.
Sir Jofhua was always in the way of
information and improvement, by con-
flan tly affociating with men of talents and
learning.
Gainfborough
* This flieet was in the prefs at the time Mr.
Malone's conliderable work on the fame fubjeft
was announced fo that any agreement with, or
difference from it, is perfe&ly accidental.
[ '79 ]
Gainfborough avoided the company of
literary men, who were his averfion he
was better pleafed to give, than to re-
ceive information.
Sir J; (not becaufe he was deaf)
wanted all idea and perception of mufic,
being perfectly deftitute of ear.
G. had as correct an ear as poffible*
and great enjoyment of exquifite inftru-
mental performance vocal mufic he did
not relifh.
Sir Ji confidered hiftorical painting as
the great point of perfection to which ar-
tifts mould afpire, and was himfelf in the
firfl rank of excellence.
G. either wanted conception or tafte*
to relifh hiftorical painting, which he al-
ways confidered as out of his way, and
thought he mould make himfelf ridicu-
lous by attempting it.
N2 Sir
[ i8o ]
Sir J. never painted a landfcape, ex-
< ept the two views from his villa at Rich-
mond fubjects altogether improper for
a picture, and by no means happily exe-
cuted the little touches of landfcape
which he frequently introduced in the
backrground of portraits were in a much
fuperior ftyle, and well calculated for the
effect intended.
G. painted fome hundreds of land-
fcapes of different degrees of merit
fome, little better than warned drawings,
others very rich but they all poffeffed
that freedom of pencilling which will for
ever make them valuable in the eye of an
artift.
Sir J. never painted cattle, {hipping,
or other fubordinate fubjects.
G. painted cattle of all denominations
very finely. He never pretended to the
correctnefs of rigging, &c, but I have
feen
feen fome general effects of fea, fea-coaft,
and veflels, that have been truly mafterly.
Sir J. in portraits was different ac-
cording to the asra of his practice- in his
beft times his pictures pofTeiTed an ele-
gance of deljgn pictorefque draperies
beautiful difpolition of parts and circum-
ftances > and certainly were greatly fu-
perior to thofe of all other artifts.
G. was always fure of a likenefs not
frequently happy in attitude or difpolition
of parts. His pencilling was fometimes
thin and hatchy, fometimes rich and full ;
but always pofTeffing a facility of touch,
which, as in his landfcapes, makes the
word of his pictures valuable.
Sir J. made very few drawings it is
natural to fuppofe that he made fome;
but as I never faw any, they cannot be
fuppofed to be numerous, nor can I fay
any thing upon the fubject.
N 3 Of
Of Gainfborough, on the contrary,
perhaps, there are more drawings exift-
ing than of any other artift, ancient or
modern . I muft have feen at leaft a thou-
fand, not one of which but poffefles me-
rit, and fome in a tranfcendent degree
two fmall ones in flight tint, varnifhed,
In the poiTeffion of Mr. Baring of Exeter,
are invaluable !
Sir J. as an author, wrote two or three
papers in the Idler, fome Notes for John-
fon's Edition of Shakefpeare, and a few
other incidental performances. His great-
eft literary work are his Difcourfes at the
Royal Academy, which are replete with
claffical knowledge in his art original
obfervations ^acute semarks on the works
of others, and general tafte and difcern-
ment. In his Eloge on Gainfborough
are traits of kindnefs and goodnefs of
heart, exceedingly affecting to thofe who
knew the fubjecl: ! His Difcourfes are
collected and publifhed together they
will
will be moft valued by thofe who are be.fl
qualified to judge of their excellence.
G. fo far from writing, fcarcely ever
read a book but, for a letter to an inti-
mate friend, he had few equals, and no
fuperior. It was like his converfation,
gay, lively fluttering round fubjefts
which he juft touched, and away to ano-
ther expreffing his thoughts with fo
little referve, that his correfpondents con-
fidering the letter as a part of their friend,
had never the heart to burn it !
Sir JoJfhua's character was moft folid
Gainfborough's moft lively Sir J. wimed
to reach the foundation of opinions. The
fwallow, in her airy courfe, never fkim-
med a furface fo light as Gain (borough
touched all fubjects that bird could not
fear drowning more, than he dreaded
deep difquifitions. Hitherto we have
marked the difference of thefe great
men. In -one thing, and, I believe, in
N 4 one
one only they perfectly agreed they each
poffefled a heart full-fraught with the
warmeil wifhes for the advancement of
the divine art they profeffed of kindnefs
to their friends and general benevolence
to men of merit, wherever found, and
however diftinguimed.
Whether
I '85 1
Whether Genius be born, or acquired ?
1 HOSE who hold the dodrine of '< Po-
cta nafcitur" conceive human nature as
confifting of two parts, matter and fpirit ;
and although each of thefe adts upon the
other, yet that they are two diftincT:
things ; for the body may be excited
to action by fenfation only, and the foul
may perform all its functions while the
body remains perfectly at reft.
By extending this principle, they fay,
that the mind may be weak while the
body is ilrong ; or that the body may be
emaciated by difeafe, while the mind pof-
feffes all its vigour. Hence they confirm
the firft idea, that body and foul are in-
dependent of each other, and that the
latter may, and will remain, when the
former
r 186 ]
former lives no more but the certainty,
or even poffibility of a feparate exiftence,
makes no part of my fubject.
Admitting the point to be eftablimed,
that man is a compound of a fpiritual and
corporeal 'nature, and that the two qua-
lities, tho' united in him, are in them-
felves diftinct, we feel no difficulty of
affigning all intellectual faculties to the
foul only. Of courfe, genius is a pro-
perty of the foul ; and, together with all
other modifications of intellect, perfectly
independent of the body.
Of late, it has been thought that Poeta
Jit. It is circumftances, fay the profef-
fors of this new doctrine, that determine
our purfuits, our judgment, our appre-
henfions, and that give genius or with-
hold it. A child juft born may be made
any thing you pleafe an orator, poet,
painter, or mufician. If you wim that
your fon mould fpeak like Cicero, write
like
like Homer, paint like Apelles, or com-
pofe like Timotheus ; fet the models be-
fore him which he is to imitate, keep
him intent on his fubjed, put his thoughts
in the train they mould go, and, if acci-
dents do not interrupt their progrefs, they
will proceed onward to the goal, until
they fuccefsfully reach it.
The philofophers of the firft feel: con*-
lider genius as infpiration thofe of the
latter, as imitation. If nature has denied
you genius, fay the former, you can ne-
ver attain it if you wifh to be a genius,
fay the latter, the means are in your own
power.
Upon the prefumption that this is the
true ftate of the queftion, we will exa-
mine whether the old or the new doc-
trine agrees beft with the fads which hif-
tory furnimes relating to men of genius,
and how far our daily experience will
lead us to adopt one or the other.
Since
Since the exiftence of hiftory, not more
than two or three poets are recorded to
be of the firft clafs perhaps only one
who is unruerfally allowed to be in the
very firft rank. Few are the painters
and ftatuaries of antiquity whofe works
have deicended to the prefent times.
The fame may , be faid of architects and
profeflbrs of the liberal arts and fciences
in general. As fame is " the univerfal
paflion," all may be fuppofed to covet
the enjoyment of it ; but fo very few
poflefling their wifh which is the moft
natural fuppofition, that the productions
of genius depend upon our own power,
or upon fomething which is beyond our
command or attainment ?
If I rightly underftand the modern
do&rine, it aflerts, that if you defire to
make two children artifts in the fame
profeffion, and one proves deficient and
and the other excellent; the difference
does not arife from the children, but their
mode
t '89 ]
mode of treatment that certain circum-
flances put the good artift in the way of
becoming excellent, and different circum-
ftances prevented the other from im-
provement ; but if you had applied the
treatment which the ingenious artift re-
ceived, to the other, then their talents
would have been reverfed. If you fay,
that to the beft of your ability you gave
to each equal opportunities of informa-
tion; you are told, that the furnifhing
the mind with ideas depends upon a
thoufand niceties, which will not admit
of variation, and although your intention
was good, it was not executed. As this
feems to mew that the affair is not in our
own power, we may prefume it to be in
other hands.
In thofe things which depend upon
precept or example, we always perceive
the force of early inftruclion and cuftom.
A family educated in the principles of the
Church of England, or in thofe which
dillent
diffent from it, generally continues in the
fame perfuafion. Children, which are
early accuffomed to virtuous and moral
precepts, are undoubtedly more likely to
become good members of fociety than if
their education had been neglected. Thofe
who in their infancy are taught the per-
fonal graces, have the ealiefl carriage.
In thefe inftances, and many others, we
confefs the full force of external impref-
lions, tho' we cannot fo readily affent to
fheir power of producing genius. But
admitting, for a moment, that genius is
not innate, yet if the means for acquiring
it be not in our power, it is of very little
fignification to the argument, whether a
child is born with that propenfity to poe-
try, painting, or mufic, which we call
genius, or whether he afterwards im-
bibes it : whether it be a property of the
foul, or a quality of the body.
That thefe means are not in our power,
is evident, from paft experience, and pre-
fent
fent obfervation : if you cannot tell how
to produce another Homer, Apelles, or
Timotheus; fhould fuch beings again
exift, it muft depend upon fomething
which does not belong to our efforts, and
is beyond our knowledge.
Thofe who conceive genius to be no-
thing but a tajle for the arts, very much
under-rate its importance. Genius, in-
deed, poflefles this tafte, but its effence
is a creative power to " body forth the
fhapes of things unknown, and give to
aery nothing a local habitation and a
name." Whoever read the original paf-
fage without that thrill of delight always
attendant on fublime expreflions ? Who,
but earneftly wifhed to equal its force
and beauty ? But yet, out of the millions
of men who have peopled this globe in
long fucceffion, not one, no, not one ever
did, perhaps, ever could conceive, and
utter this idea in terms equally fublime !
If
If genius could be acquired, it feems
unaccountable that we have not another
Shakefpeare nay, a poet as much his
fuperior as he is above all others ; for
why fhould we ftop, when by continual
exertion we may at laft afcend a height
to look down on the top of Helicon?
-feriens Jidera vert ice.
I have already hinted, that genius mufl
not be miftaken for tafte to relim the
productions of others, or ability to imi-
tate them. One half the world might
be taught to copy high-fmimed drawings,
as that kind of talent is by no means
unufual. To produce effect with little
trouble can only be attained by long prac-
tice, which induces facility. But origi-
nal conceptions, and new arrangements
of thofe forms and circumftances of which
pictures are compofed, are the property
of genius alone : they do not depend
upon imitation, and can never be taught.
Perhaps
[ '93 ]
Perhaps the fubject may be farther il-
luftrated by fome obfervations with which
mufic will furnifh us.
-.rjn 1 '>/ J;n*. iSttbrff
Some perfons are born without ear,
which no art can create. Let jhem hear
mufic ever fo often, let thofe who wifh
to give, and thoje who wifh to acquire
this fenfation, exert their utmoft efforts
it is in vain earlefs they were, and
fo they will remain to the laft moment
of their lives.
Thofe who have an ear for mufic may
become proficients in that art, in propor-
tion to their ability they may fing, or
perform on an inftrument, and proceed
in excellence, according to the extent of
their practice, or opportunity for im-
provement but all this is far fhort of
genius. Perhaps, twenty perfons have
an ear for one that wants it ; but not one
performer in a hundred has genius to
create mufic of his own the greater
O numoer
J
number of practical muficians are as far
from the invention of melody, as if they
had never heard, or touched an inftru-
ment; and, what makes altogether for
the fupport of the firft opinion, notwith-
ftanding their utmoft wimes and inceflant
endeavours, it is not in the power of hu-
man art to give them this invention.
Should thofe unacquainted with mufic,
fay, that the want of fuccefs is becaufe
the proper means have not been tried I
can only reply, that no means which the
knowledge and pra&ice of the art can
furnifh, ever fucceeded to give ear and
genius where nature had denied them;
and it feems hard to fuppofe that perfons
ignorant of the fcience mould pofTefs a
fecret denied to profeflbrs.
This is intended as a fair enquiry into
the different merit of the two opinions,
and the refult is undoubtedly in favour of
the firft. The caufe, or confequence of
genius
[ '95 ]
genius not depending on ourfelves, for-
tunately makes no part of my fubject, for
I confefs myfelf ignorant of the firft flep
towards fo abftrufe an investigation. I
only wifhed to (hew, and in as few words
as poffible, that genius was fomething
not mechanical 3 that it is given, not ac-
quired ; and whether it be corporeal or
immaterial, whether making part of our
firft exiflence, or afterwards imbibed, yet
that it is not in the power of man to
give, or take it away.
The difference of opinion on this fub-
ject may be owing to the not diftinguifh-
ing between genius and talents. At firfl
fight they may appear the fame, but upon
examination we mall difcover more than
a made of diftinction. A man of genius
muft have talents, but talents are pof-
fefled by many, without it. Genius, tho'
poflelfing talents, has not always the
power of mewing them, for want of
mechanical facility ; and talents are fre-
O 2 quently
[ '96 ] ^
quently exercifed with fo much excel-
lence, as to be miftaken for genius.
However paradoxical this may appear, all
difficulty vanifhes, by confidering that
the characteriftic of genius is invention,
a creation of jomething not before exifting;
to which talents make no pretence : and
although talents and genius are fometimes
united, yet they are in their nature dif-
tincT:. t , i^ m ,
An aftor may poffefs every propriety
of fpeaking and action without the ability
of writing a play, in which cafe, he has
talents only : but, if he add to his per-
formance the invention of a dramatic
fable, he has then talents and genius.
A mufician may be an exquiiite per-
former without having one mufical idea
of his own he has talents : but if he
poflefs a fund of original melody, he has
genius ; for harmony already exifts inde-
pendent of invention, and that fuccemon
of
of chords, and ftrudlure of parts, termed
competition, are the fruit of information
and practice : by thefe we judge of his
Jkill, but we eftimate the invention of a
compofer from his melody.
* ':"- ?'ftf(ViP.f;ir Lc:-/,u<J
As talents are commonly miftaken for
genius, and are the confequence of cul-
tivation, it is natural to give the fame
origin to both : but let the qualities of
each be considered, and they will appear,
as from the above inftances, to be diffe-
rent things, and to arife from different
fources.
A man of talents has a much fairer
profpect of good fortune than a, man of
genius. There are few inftances of ta-
lents being neglected, and fewer ftill of
genius being encouraged. The world is
a perfect judge of talents, but thoroughly
ignorant of genius. Any art already
known, if carried to a greater height,
is at once rewarded - y but the new crea-
O 3 tions
[ '98 ]
tions of genius are not at firfl underftood,
and there mufl be fo many repetitions of
the effect before it is felt, that moft
commonly death fteps in between ge-
nius and its feme. This idea is farther
purfued in another place.*
I make a diftinftion between talents
and genius, but it mufl not be imagined
that I wifh to fet them at variance ; for
the nearer talents can be brought to re-
ferable genius, the ftronger will be their
effect -, and the more genius pofTefTes the
ability of making its creations manifefl,
the lefs will its powers be confined to
that mind in which they were originally
conceived.
* In the Thirtieth Letter.
The
[ 199
The Venetian, French Captain, and Prieft.
W HEN Buonaparte invaded the Duchy
of Milan, one of his advanced parties,
not ftrictly attentive to the bounds of
territories, encroached upon the State of
Venice. The owner of a villa in the
neighbourhood, perceiving a band of fo-
reign foldiers marching up the avenue,
thought it prudent to advance half-way
to meet them. The Captain, in a few
words, acquainted him, that they were
troops of the new Republic, meant no
offence to that of Venice, and would quit
the territory immediately " Not before
you have dined," replied the gentleman,
" enter the houfe with me your men
ihall be entertained in Frefco."
O 4 Puring
[ 200 ]
During the dinner, the difcourfe
turned on the great events of the prefent
times.
" Vivent les Republiques !" fays the
Captain, filling his glafs
Vire la Republique !" laid the Ve-
netian.
C. Do you mean a flight to France.
Signer ?
.;>. } ? vt .,-,jf- 1 . 3,.^:..,:,,,
V. I thought if the meaning of an ex-
preffion was doubtful, a Frenchman al-
ways underftood it for his advantage. I
drank fuccefs, Monfieur, to the Republic
of France our own Republic is funk too
low to be worth a glafs of wine, or even
a wim for its profperity.
C. Impoffible ! all Republics, becaufe
they are fo, muft flourim.
V.
[ 201 ]
V. Our time is pad we grew came
to maturity, and are now decayed.
C. A Republic decay ! kings, tyrants,
defpots, caufe the ruin of countries ; but
where freedom is eftablifhed
V. Ha, ha, ha ! and fo you really
think that a republican government pro-
duces freedom?
C. Can you doubt it? A very few
years ago, we in France were all flaves
now, thank Heaven no thank our ow
efforts we are free !
V. We Venetians think differently
during the monarchy of France, all
looked up to you as the great, the happy
nation of Europe now we think you
miferable flaves, like ourfclves.
C. Slaves-! explain yourfelf
V.
V. Readily. Nothing flatters the
imagination more than the idea of liberty
but let us not feek it where the fearch
mufl be vain. Abfolnte liberty cannot
exift in focial life. If liberty be better
than every thing el fe, give up fociety,
and rove the woods as a favage.
C. What ! is there no liberty con-
fident with fociety ?
V. Yes but the abfolute liberty you
contend for, is not. It is the firft prin-
ciple of government to abridge liberty.
C. Allowing it ; there is a difference
in governments under fome you have a
certain degree of liberty ; under others,
you have lefs; but under an abfolute
prince you have none at all.
V. Say rather, that under a mixed
monarchy, you have a little tyranny;
under an unlimited monarch, you have
more ;
more -, but in a Republic, the unhappy
citizen, flattered with the idea of liberty,
is moil enflaved, and with the additional
mortification, that he is fo by perfons no
greater than himfelf. As the old lion,
in the fable, juftly remarked, the kick
of an afs is not only pain, but indignity.
C. You fpeak an odd language for a
Republican but, now I recoiled:, you
are governed by an Aristocracy.
V. I fpoke of the different forms of
government in general, without any par-
ticular application. But you are governed
by an Ariflocracy as much as we are
notwithstanding your averlion to the term
Ariftocrat. In fat, a pure Republic is
no government at all there mufl be per-
fons either naturally or artificially eleva-
ted to manage the bufinefs of the flate,
and thele perfons are an Ariftocracy, In
Venice, the nobles are born our gover-
nors ; in France, you elevate from your
ov.n
own rank the perfons who govern -the
difference to the people is nothing.
C. There is furely this difference
the power of our rulers is only for a time
yours is for life.
V. It feems to be fo, but it is a dif-
tinction, without a difference, as far as
the people are concerned. In Venice
the whole body of nobles furnimes the
officers of government ; we know their
number and their character, fo that we
are enabled to direct an oppofition, if ne-
ceffary, when, and how we pleafe. In
France there is an indefinite number of
perfons, who, by good-fortune, intrigue,
bribery, by talents, and fome even by
vices,- flan d forward in your Republic as
the nobles do in ours and thefe govern
your country
C. In a pure Republic, like ours,
all places are open to all perfons in
yours,
J
yours, no one can fucceed that is not
a noble.
V. This, which you mention as an
advantage, is certainly a dire misfortune.
At the commencement of your revolu-
tion, many different parties were ftriving
for their own purpofes, to which the
public good was fubfervient the party
in power facrificed the others, and were
in turn deftroyed by their fucceflbrs. As
you in the beginning declared, that all
were equal, it gave a pretence to every
individual to govern the ftate, and by his
elevation to contradict your principle
and this muft ever be the cafe. I can
eaiily conceive that the people may be
aggrieved under any government. When
they feel themfelves opprefTed, it is na-
tural to wim for a change, and, if poffi-
ble, effecl: it. If there were no Repub-
lics in Europe, a country might be ex-
cufed for blundering into a constitution
which looks fo fpecioufly ; but as there
are
J
are ib many, why not firft examine whe-
ther they are the abodes of liberty ? From
their hiftory, alfo, it would be found,
that they begun upon your principle, but
could not continue their exiftence until
another was adopted. Venice, Genoa,
and Holland, were obliged to have a
Chief Magiftrate, who at leafl reprefented
a Sovereign the new Republic of Ame-
rica could not act without a Prefident,
nor could you without a Directory. In
fact, a kingly government is the moffc
natural of all others, and although people
upon ill-ufage may fly from it with fury,
like a pendulum fwung violently, yet,
every vibration brings it nearer and nearer
to the centre, where, at laft, it naturally
refts. The French Republic is at pre-
fent paffing furioufly through this centre
of vibration, but unlefs there is fome new
force to continue the motion, it muft
ceafe at laft. England was once precifely
in the fame fituation, and ended her vi-
bration in monarchy.
C.
[ 207-]
C. Our conflitution is now fixed-
our Cinq-Vir can execute our laws, but
cannot infringe them they have the ne-
ceffary fplendour of a fovereign without
his power to hurt.
V. This is all very good but why
did you change your old government ?
C. To be free.
V. Good again but even freedom
itfelf is of no value if it does not procure
happinefs. Under the monarchy, a pow-
erful army (afTembled without force) was
at your command ; the third commerce
of Europe was yours ; and you had the
fecond fleet ; money, at lead to indivi-
duals, was in plenty ; arts and fciences
flourished - y your people increaled, and
every thing was fo pleafant and comforta-
ble about you, that foreigners preferred a
refidence in France to any other country.
But fince you have been a Republic, the
reverfe
f 208 ]
rcvcrfe has taken place : your commerce,
fleet, and money, are not merely dimi-
nimed, but almoft annihilated ; you have
wantonly thrown away two millions of
lives, which you forced into your army,
and France is confidered no longer the
feat of elegant pleafure, "but the abode of
vulgarity, poverty, and wretchednefs.
C. Whenever there is a ftruggle for
liberty it muft coft fomething; it may
coft much, but the prize, when obtained,
is invaluable !
V. Gold may be bought too dear but
are you free after all ? We think, not.
Your lives and property are lefs fecure
than under your kings -, and, inftead of
having liberty of fpeech and action, you
are more watched than we are by our in-
quiiition. Be not deceived the ftate
may be free, and yet individuals may be
flaves. In the ecclefiaflical territories,
governed by the mofl abfolute of princes,
is
t 209 ]
is more liberty than is to be found in all
the Republics of Europe fo, in compli-
ment to the Red-cap Goddefs wherever
found (filling his glafs) Viva il Padre
fantiffimo !
Viva, viva ! faid the ConfefTor of the
Houfehold, entering with prieftly free-
dom viva il Padre fantiffimo ! lifting up
his eyes with true devotion, and empty-
ing his glafs. The French Captain felt
fome difficulties as a national officer he
could not drink the Pope's health; but
as a gueft in a houfe, where he had been
civilly treated, fome remains of the old
French politefTe prompted him to dribble
a little wine into his glafs, which he
lipped iiyfilence.
V. I fee you do not join us cordially ;
but if you really loved freedom, you
would not object to its patron.
P C.
C* You know that our civil and reli-
gious reformation have kept pace toge-
ther when we aboliihed our old govern-
ment we deftroyed our church eftablifti-
inents
Here the Prieft exclaimed
P. Deftroy church eftablifhments !
How can you exped: a bleffing upon your
undertaking when you flop the fource
of it?
C. We exped: no bleffing we only
defire fuccefs, and that we fhall procure
by our invincible troops.
P. Santa Mark !
C. Pray, my good father, can you
give me a fingle inftance of a bleffing be-
ing obtained in confequence of afking it,
or any petition you have preferred to
Heaven, being granted ?
P,
t 2" i
P. We hope for the be ft : it is our
bufinefs to pray but to grant, is in other
hands.
V. Well anfwered, Padre It is faid
(fpeaking to the Captain) that you have
difcarded religion, but as that is- fo much
greater than your other follies, I never
until now believed it. Let us fuppofe
that you could by a law abolifh ail the
forms of religion, would it then be era-
dicated from hearts where it was fo early
implanted ? If you could root it out, do
you not leave a vacancy that nothing elie
can fupply ? Are there not numberlefs
duties which are termed, of imperfect
obligation, that no laws can reach, and
which can only be enforced by religion ?
C. Thefe points are rather out of a
foldier's line of life, to whom it is more
natural to cut knots than to untie them
however, it is my inclination, as well as
my duty, to defend my country and li-
P '2 berty.
r 212 ]
berty. When we firft began to think,
which defpotifm fo long prevented, we
foon perceived that fuperftition was the
right hand of tyranny that it was reli-
gion run mad, and that to deftroy fuper-
flition for ever we muft begin our attack
at the fource. We did fo, and prefently
found that religion was lefs founded on
truth than on cuftom, and that cuftom
had produced prejudice in its favour
P. What dreadful !
C. That all the benefit fuppofed to
be derived from religion, was attainable
in a greater degree by the practice of
virtue
P. Which cannot
C. but that even virtue could
not exift without liberty, therefore we
made liberty our firft point, in expecta-
tion
[ 213. I
tion that " all the reft," as my impatient
Padre would fay, " mould be added."
P. If I am impatient, excufe me but
is it for your worldly intereft to rejeft the
only comfort in affliction ?
C. We either feek confolation by
bearing our misfortunes like men, or
braving them as heroes. If we are to die,
we do not afk a Prieft to frighten us day
after day in a long interval between doom
and execution, or ficknefs and death ; but
give up our lives with refolution, in many
inftances with triumph, the inilant we
know that our fate is determined.
P. All this does for the prefent mo-
ment, but think of the future !
C. That certainly makes no part of
the character of my countrymen how-
ever, to oblige you, I will confider it.
The future is not in our power if our
fins
[ 4 1
fins have made us worthy of punifhment,
we mall certainly receive it you cannot
be fo foolim to imagine, that by a few
repentant words we fhall alter eternal
decrees. Befides, we have difcarded the
doctrine of a future ftate. Suppoling it
to exift, cur chance for happinefs is as
good as yours.
P. Thofe who have ftrayed but little
from the fold may be brought back again
to it; but what can recover the fheep
that is totally loft ? Son, if you do not
believe, you cannot be faved !
C. Surely, my good Padre, if I have
a foul, it does not ceafe to exift becaufe
I dijbelie've . its exiftence and although I
may be fo blind, fo foolifh, or fo obfti-
nate, as to deny a future ftate, yet if
there be fuch a ftate, I mall, I muft par-
take of it as well as your reverence, and
be happy or miferable according to my
actions, not my belief.
V.
V. Your conftitution and religion are
both of a piece one would not have been
perfect without the other.
C. We think fo whereas your confli-
tution and religion are at variance a Re-
public under the denomination of priefr-
craft is only free by halves but hark !
the drum beats Signor, farewell ! Pa-
dre, adieu ! perhaps the time is not far
remote when truth will demolim all our
private opinions, and fpread,- like tLc
arms of the Republic, over the face of
the earth !
V. He is gone off like a cannon
P, The joy of the wicked is but for a
moment. Son, we have both finned in
liftening to this French Atheift let us
forget what we have heard, and go to
Vefpers.,
P4 The
t 216 ]
The Bard.
A OETRY, to deferve our attention,
muft either be regular and faultlefs ; or it
muft be irregularly great, and pofTefs
tranfcendent beauties, to attone for emi-
nent defeats. The moderns are chiefly
of the former character, and the ancients
of the latter.
It by no means follows from this dif-
tinction, that the moderns are never fub-
lime, or the ancients never regular and
equal ; but the early age of fociety (which
is the ancient, let it happen at any pe-
riod) is mofl favourable to Genius, and
the advanced ftate of mankind to Tafte,
It was in our own times that Gray writ
the Ode which makes my prefent fubject
it is entitled The Bard, and poffefTes
much
2, 7
much of the ancient fire combined with
modern tafte.
Perhaps it is this combination which
weakens the fublimity of the poem ; for
in this refpect it is very inferior to Dry-
den's Alexander's Feaft : but when the
regularity of the ftructure is confidered,
and the exquilite polim with which the
whole is finimed, we ought to confider
it as one of the moft perfect productions
of our time. This perfection will plainly
appear upon a curfory review (for I mean
no more) of its fable ftructure veri-
fication fentiments and general effect.
Story,
A fmall event is fufficient for an ode,
but yet there mould befome event. Com-
pare the odes which are dramatic, to thole
which are only fentimental, and the fu-
perior effect of ftory will be very appa-
rent. Even the Elegy in the Country
Church-
Church-yard, beautiful as it is, depends
as much upon the fcenery, and the little
incident which makes its fable, as upon
the fentiment and poetry we have the
latter in other pieces of the fame poet,
which wanting the former, fail of exci-
ting our feelings, and commanding our
attention,
This Poem has incident fufficient to
make it interefting, but not enough to
be ppprefied by adventure. It is not only
interefting, but pictorefque, in an emi-
nent degree an old Bard fitting on the
edge of a precipice that overhangs a tor-
rent, addreiling his prophetic ftrains to a
king who defcends a mountain at the
head of his army, is a fubjecT: as proper
for painting as poetry. The fcenery is
farther enriched by ideal perfonages, and
-romantic fplendour is added to natural
magnificence. The conducting of the
ftory is altogether epic it begins in the
midft of a great incident it informs of
all
[ 2*9 1
all that is neceflary to be known prece-
ding it looks into futurity, and ends
triumphantly. The incidents of the Eng-
lifh Hiftory, which it was neceflary to
introduce, although ilightly touched, yet
it is done " with a mailer's hand and
poet's fire."
Strutture
Is a regular pindaric, What the critics
term the ode, epode, and antiflrophe, are
each divided into three parts -, every line
of the ode has precifely the fame number
of fyllables with the correfponding line
of the epode and antiilrophe the rhymes
are in the fame places, and the fifieenth
and feventeenth lines of the third flanza
of the ode, having a word in the middle
which rhymes with one at the end, are
anfwered by lines of the fame ftrudture
in the third ftanzas of the epode and an-
tiftrophe. If there be any merit in this
regularity, the poem has the fulleft claim
to
[ 220 ]
to it the difficulty was great, and it is
happily vanquished.
'The Verfification
Is various much Studied, and if arti-
ficial, it is at leail eafy, flowing, and full
of dignity.
Perhaps, the mofl exceptionable line
is the firir,, in which is the appearance of
an affected alliteration. If this affectation
be once fufpected, we rather withhold
our fancy than indulge it, and read with
caution inftead of enjoyment.
TChe Sentiments
Are characteristic of the perfonages
who fpeak in this dramatic ode the Bard
is deeply impreffed with forrow for the
lofs of his companions, and pours forth
his imprecations on the tyrant who had
taken their lives. The ghofls of the
murdered
[ 221 ]
murdered bards exprefs their prophetic
curfes in the fpirit of the Northern Scalds,
of whofe works Mr. Gray was an ad-
mirer. Thefe, to ufe an expreffion of
the authors, are " thoughts that breathe,
and words that burn." The breaking off
from the ghofts to the vifion of the bard,
(to whofe imagination are prefented the
great poets that are to flourifli in future
ages) is truly poetical ; it has the farther
ufe of reconciling him to his fate, and
making him triumph in that death which
was inevitable.
E/eff.
The efFedl of a pindaric ode (and in-
deed of all fublime writing) is to produce
that elevation of foul, which, while we
read, feems to add increafe of Being.
i
The firft line commands our atten-
tion, and we feel ourfelves expanding as
the poem advances, which never finks
fo
r
fo low as mediocrity ; and if no particular
paffage can be quoted as the higheft pitch
oi fublimity, yet the whole together has
a degree of perfection that has feldom
been attained, and perhaps never exceeded
by any poet ancient or modern.
The Ghofl.
AT was fhrewdly remarked by Voltaire,
that the early flages of fociety are the
times for prodigies Scotland was not ci-
vilized when Macbeth met the Witches -,
nor was Rome, when Curtius leaped into
the Gulph. People of weak intellects,
have, at all times, believed in apparitions.
It is unnecefTary now to fay, that ftories
of Ghofts are miftakes or impofitions,
and that they might always be detected,
if people had ingenuity to difcover the
trick, or courage enough to fearch out
trie caufe of their fright:
In all relations of this kind there is
manifeftly an endeavour to make the event
as fupernatural, wonderful, and as well-
attefted as pofiible, to prevent the fufpi-
cion
[ 22 4 ]
cion of trick, and to cut off all objections
which might be made to its credibility.
I am about to comply with the eftablifhed
cuftom, and mail relate a ftory of a Ghoft,
which, I will be bold to fay, has the
ftrongeft circumftances of the wonderful,
the fupernatural, and the well-attefted,
of any upon record. The ftory, as yet,
only lives in tradition, but it is much too
good to be loft.
At a town in the weft of England was
held a club of twenty- four people, which
aflembled once a week to drink punch,
fmoke tobacco, and talk politics. Like
Ruhens's Academy at Antwerp, each
member had his peculiar chair, and the
Prefident's was more exalted than the reft.
One of the members had been in a dying
ftate for fome time 5 of courfe, his chair,
while he was abfent, remained vacant.
The club being met on their ufual
night, enquiries were naturally made after
their
their afTociate. As he lived in the ad r
joining houfe, a particular friend went
himfelf to enquire for him, and returned
with the difmal tidings that he could not
poffibly furvive the night. This threw
a gloom on the company, and all efforts
to turn the converfation from the fad fub-
je<fl before them were ineffectual.
About midnight, (the time, by long
prefcription, appropriated for the walk-
ing of fpectres) the door opened and
the Form, in white, of the dying, or ra-
ther of the dead man, walked into the
.room, and took his feat in the accuftomed
chair there he remained in filence, and
in filence was he gazed at. The appari-
tion continued a fufficient time in the
chair to alfure all prefent of the reality of
the vifion ; at length, he arofe and ftalked
towards the door, which he opened, as if
living went out, and then mut the door
after him.
-^ After
[ 226 ]
After a long paufe, fome one at lafl
had the refolution to fay, ' " if only one of
us had feen this, he would not have been
believed, but it is impoflible that fo many
perfons can be deceived."
The company, by degrees, recovered
their fpeech -, and the whole converfation,
as may be imagined, was upon the dread-
ful objed: which had engaged their atten-
tion. They broke up, and went home.
In the morning, enquiry was made after
their fick friend it was anfwered by an
account of his death, which happened
nearly at the time of his appearing in the
club. There could be little doubt before,
but now nothing could be more certain
than the reality of the apparition, which
had been feen by fo many perfons to-
gether.
It is needlefs to fay, that fuch a flory
Spread over the country, and found credit
even
even from infidels : for in this cafe, all
reafoning became fuperfluous, when op-
pofed to a plain fad: attefted by three and
twenty witnefles. To afTert the doctrine
of the fixed laws of nature was ridicu-
lous, when there were fo many people tff
credit to prove that they might be un-
fixed.
Years rolled on the fiory ceafed to
engage attention, and it was forgotten,
unlefs when occafionally produced to
filence an unbeliever.
One of the club wa"s an apothecary*
In_the courfe of his practice he was called
to an old woman, whofe profemon was
attending on fick perfons. She told him,
that me could leave the world with
a quiet confcience but for one thing
which lay on her mind " Do you not
" remember Mr. * * * whofe Ghoft has
" been fo much talked of? I was his
" nurfe. The night he died I left the
Q2 " room
" room for forhething I wanted I am
" fure I had not been abfent long; but
" at my return I found the bed without
" my patient. He was delirious, and I
" feared that he had thrown himfelf out
" of the window. I was fo frighted
" that I had no power no flir ; but after
" fome time, to my great aftonimment,
" he entered the room fhivering, and his
" teeth chattering laid down on the
" bed, and died. Conlidering myfelf as
" the caufe of his death, I kept this a
" fecret, for fear of what might be done
" to me. Tho' I could contradict all the
" ftory of the Ghoft, I dared not to do
"it. I knew by what had happened
" that it was he himjelf who had been
" in the club-room (perhaps recollecting
" that it was the night of meeting) but
" I hope God, and the poor gentleman's
" friends will forgive me, and I mail die
" contented!' 1
On Gentlemen- Artijis.
JL O attain excellence in the arts is the
lot of very few profeflbrs, who have fpent
their lives in the purfuit.
Gainfborough, after a clofe application
to painting for fifty years, faid on his
death-bed " I am but juft beginning to
do fomething, and my life is gone !" I
could repeat expreffions of architects,
fculptors, and muficians, grown old in
the ftudy of their profeffions, to the fame
purpofe -, from whence we may conclude,
that the ufual term of the duration of our
faculties, is not fufficient to attain that
perfection to which genius afpires.
This truth being admitted, for it can-
not be denied, what mall we fay to thofe
peremptory
peremptory judgments which are pafled
upon the works of genius by perfons who
never had, nor, perhaps, could have, a
thought upon the fubject ? In any other
cafe we mould judge them rafh and pre-
fumptuous. No man, who is unacquainted
with the common profeflions and trades,
ever pretends to know any thing about
them but every man fancies he can be
an architect, painter, or mufician, with
fimply faying, like the Elector of Bran-
denburg " I will be a King 1" Every
one feels himfelf equal to the defigning
and building a houfe very few who do
not think they might, if they chofe it,
be painters and what numbers of dilet-
tanti are there, who, becaufe they poiTefs
.ear, and perhaps a tafte for mufic, fancy
they can compofe ?
Should thefe foi-difant Artifts exhibit
proofs of their {kill, it is natural to ima-
gine, that their impotent attempts would
only be defpifed, and make them ridicu-
lous
lous juft the reverfe their works are
moft favourably received what they may
pofiibly want in {kill, fay the public, they
poflefs in tafte, and a natural tafte is every
thing.
I will leave it to the architects to ex-
prefs their feelings in finding their plans
rejected, and defigns of thefe tafty per-
fons fubftituted for them ; or, what is
worfe, having their plans corrected by
them, becaufe then there is fuch a mix-
ture of ignorance and fcience, that we
cannot always feparate the alloy from- the
gold. I will leave it to the painters to
fret at the criticifm of the gentlemen-ar-
tifts, and their being obliged to abandon
their own conceptions to fubftitute the
ideas of thofe, who, on this fubject, can-
not think at all but, I will make a few
obfervations on the gentlemen-muficians,
as being more in my province, and which,
indeed, was the occafion of this f]iort
0.4 To
"
To perfons who have no ear, nor, of
conrfe, any real pleafure from mulic, this
fubjecl: muft feem to be ridiculous, from
my confidering it, in any refpect, impor-
tant it is intended for thofe of another
defcription.
The gentlemen-muficians may be di-
vided into two clafies the cultivators of
performance, and compofition ; to which
may be added, thofe who unite both.
Nothing is more certain than that a
great portion of time muft be applied to
the practice of an instrument before we
can attain the rank of even a tolerable
performer to thofe who have other pur-
fuits, this would be an unprofitable em-
ployment ; it would be time mifpent, and
cannot be afforded from this confidera-
\
tion alone, there is a prefumption, that
a perfon, not of the mufical profeffion,
cannot have attained excellence on any
inftrument, notwithftanding fome illuf-
trious
tnous exceptions. How many a concert
is fpoiled by gentlemen whofe tafte is to
fupply their deficiency of practice and
knowledge ? However, although our
ears are offended at the inftant, the affair
is foon over, and we think no more of it
but this cannot be faid of the gentle-
rnen-compofers.
Thefe, for the moft part, employ their
talents in vocal rhufic. If they are mem-
bers of a Cathedral Church, they try their
hand at a chant, and then boldly venture
upon an anthem. Should it bear fome
abortive refemblance to air and harmony,
it is immediately confidered as a prodigy,
and the works of Croft and Greene mufl
give way to the tafty production ; which
is fpread about the kingdom, that our
church-mufic may be univerfally im-
proved.
Others amule themfelves in making a
fuecefTion of chords and call them Glees,
which
which do the fame mifchief in concerts
and mufical parties, as the works of the
reverend compofers do in the church
that is, they exclude real mufic, and
produce firft an endurance, and then a
liking of its oppofite.
It is my love to the arts, and refpecl:
to their profeflbrs, that call forth thefe
animadverfions. To thofe who are placed
by nature or fortune in a ftation of life
that makes the trouble of thefe acquire-
ments unneceflary, and the pretenfions to
them ridiculous, let me apply this ihort
ftory. When Commodore Anfon was at
Canton, the officers of the Centurion had
a ball upon fome court holiday while
they were dancing, a Chinefe, who very
quietly furveyed the operation, faid foftly
to one of the party " Why don't you
let your fervants do this for you ?"
Permit me to add that, though mtiilc
has its foundation in nature, the whole
of
[ 2 35 ]
of the fuperftructure is art that much
application is neceflary before knowledge
will be acquired and that no fub/Utute
for continual practice can produce facility.
Previous to the firft flep, nature mufi
have beftowed a talent for the invention
of melody ; but if this talent be not di-
rected by the knowledge of compoiition,
and that knowledge continually exer-
cifed, the talent had better have remained
always " hidden in a napkin,"
Coincidences.
[ 236 ]
Coincidences.
AN the laft century, when aftrology flou-
rifhed, it was ufual to remark a coinci-
dence of days and circumftances. The
unenlightened mind has a flrong propen-
fity to fuch fancies, which adminifter real
joy, or forrow, according to the nature
of the fubjecl:. Super ftition eafily gives
a religious turn to them, and fuch acci-
dental concurrences are brought as proofs
of the fuperintending care of providence^
in preference to the general arrangement
of caufes and events.
The 3d of September was a day parti-
cularly . ominous to Oliver Cromwell
two or three of his battles were fought
and won upon that day, which, I think,
was alfo the day of his death.
De
[ 237 1
De Foe, ftrongly tin&ured with fu-
perftition, in the true fpirit of the times,
gives ominous days to Robinfon Crufoe,
who had a variety of events which fell
out on the 23d of September.
It did not efcape the obfervation of
Aubrey, that Alexander the Great was
born on the 6th of April conquered
Darius won a great vi&ory at fea and
died on the fame day of the fame month.
In his Mifcellanies is a precious collec^
tion of fuch inftances.
An author, in the year 1736, pub-
limed a pamphlet, called Numerus In-
fauftus, or a ihort View of the unfortu-
nate Reigns of William z- Henry 2
Edward 2 Richard 2 Charles 2 and
James 2. This book came out in tern-
pore faufto, for the Reign of George 2
could not properly have been added to
the catalogue.
In
[ 238 I
In 1733, two hundred and four Mem-
bers of the Houfe of Commons voted
againft the Excife Bill, 8 of them made
fpeeches againft it. Thefe two numbers
of 8 and 204 occaiioned the following
remark
1 - - - - I
2 .- - - - 4
3 - - - - 9
4 - - - - 16
5 - - - - 25
6 - - - - 36
7 - ' - - 49
8 - - - - 64
204
The fquare of each number, from i to 8
inclunve, makes united, the fum of 204.
This I confider as the moft ingenious of
all thofe conceits. But yet another oc-
curs, which is alfo of the firft confidera-
tion the famous number of the beaft,
666,
[ 239 1
666, that has puzzled fo many divine
arithmeticians, is thus explained by the
Rev. Mr. Vivian.
L - * :*?*& - 50
V - - -W. s
D - - - - 500
- - - ^: o
V - I -:<*, 5
1 - - . ifcyr, i
C - - - - ioo
V - -.> ?>;., 5
S , - - *fa o
666
This beaft has now " received his deadly
wound."
There was a time, and that not very-
remote, when 45 was extolled beyond
any other affemblage of numerals which
art could invent. The coincidences with
ancient and modern events made the iub-
jeft
[ 24 J
jed: of fome paragraphs in every newf-
paper fometimes it was numerus in-
fauftus. One man fwore that he would
cat 45 pound of beef-fteaks another
that he would drink 45 pots of porter -,
but they both died before the glorious
purpofe could be accomplimed perhaps,
neither gluttony nor drunkennefs were
the motives to this excefs, but an ambi-
tion to be connected with 45,
Whoever might be the worfe, to John
Wilkes himfelf this was a lucky number
almofl every article of life poured in
upon him in forty fives among the refl
I recollect 45 dozen of claret, and 45
dozen of candles, from an Alderman of
the name pf White this laft gave occa-
fion to a humourous ballad, ending
my mufe I no longer will dandle.
So I wifti you good night
Mr. Alderman White '
With your 45 dozen of candle.
Very
Very lately, in a newfpaper, was the
following article. " We left Falmouth
" the 7th of Auguft, 1794 nothing ma-
" terial occurred until the 23d, on which
" day we do in general look for fuccefs,
" as all our captures have been made on
" the 23d." (Letter from an officer of
the Flora, who I prefume had read Ro-
binfoe Crufoe). I heartily wifli this ho-
neft gentleman may take a good French
prize the 23d of every month as long as
the war lafls !
I am fo truly forry for the following
coincidences, (taken from a newfpaper,)
that I mail give them limply, without
remark
On the 2 1 ft of April, 1770, Louis
XVI. was married.
2ift of June, 1770, was the
Fete when 1 500 perfons were tram-
pled to death.
On
R
On the 2 1 ft of Jan. 1782, Fete for
the birth of the Dauphin.
2 1 ft of June, 1791, the flight
to Varennes.
2 1 ft of Sept. 1792, the abo-
lition of royalty.
2ift of Jan. 1793, his deca-
pitation.*
tt^ti^wfirlii^W q-
-r-but let me quit this difagreeable fub-
jeft.
There is nothing beyond the power of
accident. If it be a million to one that
an event mall not happen, it is ftill one to
a million that it may happen, and there-
fore
* It is an odd circumftance, that one of the King
of France's Council mould be named Target ; which
is the dramatic name of a Counfellor in The Con-
fclous Lovers. Nothing can be more ferious and
affefting than the trial of Louis XVI. but this un-
fortunate name, Target, to an Englifhman, occa-
fions an aflbciation of ideas totally abhorrent to
the fenfations which would elfe be excited by fuch
fevere diftrefs.
[ 243 ]-
fore within poffibility. I will mention
a coincidence which had more chances
againil it than any I have yet mentioned.
I once faw five keys, belonging to a
ftranger, connected with a ring, which
were fo precifely the counterpart of other
five keys and a ring in my poiTefiion, that
there was no diftinguifhing between them
in any refpeft the keys were of very dif-
ferent ages and fizes, and the rings parti-
cularly formed I leave it to mathemati-
cians to calculate the odds againft this
coincidence, which is all but miraculous.
R 2 On
[ 244 ]
On Literary Thievery.
INSTANCES have been given of
Sterne's borrowing, perhaps, Stealing,
fome thoughts and paflages from Burton's
Anatomy of Melancholy. As I myfelf
never fleal, at leaft, knowingly, it may
be expected that I mould cry out vehe-
mently againft thieves. Whether my
principles and practice are, as ufual, at
variance, or whether that rogue FalftafF
has given me medicines to make me love
the vocation becaufe it was his, I know
not ; but I am willing to let all fuch
thieves as Sterne efcape punimment I
fay this to avoid the fufpicion of malice,
in bringing two or three additional in-
ftances of the ufe Sterne has made of his
reading.
The
J
The Note C. in the article Francis
d'Amli of Bayle's Dictionary, contains
the doclrine which Sterne has fo whim-
fkally applied in his Triftram Shandy
" I wifh my father, fays he, had minded
" what he was about, &c."* Bayle fays,
" one of the moft celebrated of Ariftotle's
" Commentators maintained, that the
" public welfare requires, that, in this
" action, &c."*- Again, Gafpar a Rees
fays, '* that wife and thoughtful men,
" &c."*
Bayle has alfo furnimed Sterne with
the names of Rebours and La Fofleufe,
and many little circumftances in his ftory
of The Whifkers, which may be found in
the article of Margaret de Valois, toge-
ther
* If the reader turns to the'fe paflages he will fee
that they could not decently be quoted ; which is a
great disadvantage to my petition, as the imitation
is fo manifeft.
ther with the name of La Fleur a foot-
man, and a little trait of his character.*
In Montaigne is a Chapter on Names,
which Sterne has imitated, and much im-
proved. The following paflage from
that author probably gave Sterne the firft
hint of Obadiah's Adventure with Dr.
Slop at the turning of the garden wall.
" In the time of our third, or fecond
" troubles (I do not remember which)
" going one day abroad to take the air,
" about a league from my own houfe,
" which is feated in the very centre of
" all the buftle and mifchief of the late
" civil wars of France thinking myfelf
" in all fecurity, and fo near to my re-
" treat that I ftood in need of no better
" equipage; I had taken a horfe that
" went
* It is to be found in the New Voyage into
Terra Auftralis, by James Sadeur (a feigned name).
This book feems alfo to be the original of fome
paflages in De Foe, and of Addifon's Allegory of
the Androg) nss, though he refers to Plato.
[ 247 1
*' went very eafy upon his pace, but was
" not very ftrong. Being upon my re-
*' turn home (a fudden occasion falling
*' out to make ufe of this horfe in a kind
" of fervice that he was not acquainted
" with) one of my train, a lufty fellow,
" mounted upon a ftrong German horfe,
" that had a very ill mouth, but was
" otherwife vigorous and unfbiled, to
" play the bravo, and appear a better
<f man than his fellows, comes thunder-
**,ing full-fpeed in the very track where
t( I was, rufhing, like a Coloflus, upon
" the little man, and the little horfe,
" with fuch a career of ftrength and
" weight, that he turned us both over
" and over topfy-turvy, with our heels
f ih the air fo that there lay the horfe
" overthrown and flunned with the fall,
" and I ten paces from him, ftretched
" out at length, with my face all bat-
(t tered and broken, my fwoiid which I
" had in my hand, above ten paces be-
" yond that, my belt broke all to pieces,
R 4 " &c."
[ 248 ]
** &c." In adventures of this fort there
is always a little dafh of the ridiculous
mixed with the misfortune. It is worth
remarking, how Sterne has abated of the
misfortune, and added to the ridicule.
Trim's DifTertation on Death, and Re-
marks on the fame fubje6t from Mr.
Shandy and Uncle Toby, feem to origi-
nate from thefe reflections of Montaigne
" I have often confidered with myfelf,
ff whence it mould proceed, that war,
" the image of death, whether we look
" upon it as to our own particular dan-
" ger, or that of another, mould, with-
*' out comparifon, appear lefs dreadful
" than at home in our own houfes, and
" that being ftill in all places the fame,
" there mould be, notwithflanding, more
" aiTurance in peafants, and the meaner
" fort of. people, than others of better
" quality and education ; and I do verily
'" believe, that it is thofe terrible cere-
<f monies and preparations, wherewith
f we
[ 2 49 ]
" we fet it out, that more terrify us than
" the thing itfelf."*
As I have already declared myfelf in
perfed: charity with " a clean neat-
handed thief;" for the above inflances J
have only instituted a court of enquiry
but if Sterne mould be indicted for the
next thievery, he has no other way of
getting off, but by pleading " his clergy."
In the year 1697, were publiihed,
Twelve Sermons by Walter Leighten-
houfe, Prebendary of Lincoln. From
the Twelfth of thefe Sermons I have ex-
tracted the following paffages, which will
be found in the Seventh pofthumous
Sermon of Sterne, word for word, except
where the difference is noted.
-
k
" The
* If my reader loves Montaigne half as well as
I do, he will pardon the length of thefe quotations,
which are taken from Cotton's Tranflation.
[ 25 J
It Paul *
A W fUePaui" " coura ging the Corinthians to
" bear with patience the tryals
" incident to human nature,
" reminds them of the delive-
" ranee that God did formerly
" vouchfafe to him, and his
" fellow-labourers, Gaius and
" Ariftarcus, and thence builds
j" And on" a fortrefst of future truft and
that ground
builds a rock " dcpendancc on him 3 his life
ofencourage- 111-
ment for fu- " had been in very great jeo-
This is alter- " pardy at Ephefus, where he
had like to have been brought
out to the Theatre to have
been devoured by wild beafls 5
ad n
we
from Leigh- me ans to avert and confe-
tenhoule, p.
434, " builds <t quently to efcape it. And
a rock of en- A '
couragement therefore he tells them, that
j>ot only for
timfeif, &c." " he had this advantage by it,
" that the more he believed he
" mould be put to death j the
" more he was engaged by his
" deliverance
" deliverance never to depend on any
*' worldly truft, but only on God, who
" can refcue from the greateft extremity,
" even from the grave or death itfelf.
" For we would not, Brethren, fays he,
" have you ignorant of our trouble which
" came to us in Afia, that we were
t( preffed out of meafure, above ftrength,
" infomuch that we defpaired of life.
" But as we had the fentence of death in
" ourfelves, that we mould not truft in
" ourfelves, but in God, which raifeth
" the dead: who delivered us from fo
" great a death, and doth deliver: in
" whom we truft, that he will deliver
" us. And indeed a ftronger argument
" cannot be brought for future affiance
" than paft deliverance ; for what ground
" or reafon can I have to diftruft the
" kindnefs of that perfon who hath al-
" ways been my friend and benefactor ?
<( On whom can I better rely for affif-
" tance in the day of my diftrefs, than
" on him who ftood by me in all mine
" afflidion;
" affliction 3 and when I was at the very
'* brink of definition delivered me out
" of all my troubles ? Would it not be
"highly ungrateful, and reflect either
'* upon his goodnefs or fufficiency, to
" diftruft that providence which hath al-
" ways had a watchful eye over me ; and
" who, according to his gracious pro-
" mifes, would never yet leave me, nor
" forfake me ?
Again*-
" Haft thou ever laid upon the bed
t( of languishing, or laboured under any
'* grievous diftemper ? Call to mind thy
" forrowful penfive fpirit at that time,
" and add to it who it was that had
" mercy on thee, and brought thee out
" of darknefs and the ihadow of death,
" and made all thy bed in iicknefs. Hath
" the fcantinefs of thy condition hurried
*' thee -into great flraights and difficul-
* f ties, and brought thee almoft to thy
" wit's end ? Confider who it was that
" fpread
[ 2J3 ]
" fpread thy table in that wildernefs of
" thoughts, and made thy cup to over-
" flow, &c. &c."
Thefe are pretty ftrong inftances of
the liberties that one preacher takes with
another, and it ought to make publilliers
of pofthumous fermons a little careful,
left, inftead of their friend's compolition,
they may only republim what has already
been printed perhaps more than once
before. Leightenhoufe has not only fur-
nifhed Sterne with matter, but feems alfo
to have been his original for that dramatic
caft in his Sermons, fo engaging to fome,
and fo difagreeable to others.
I now part with Sterne but it is to
put him in better company.
" A criminal about to be executed,
" anfwered his confeflbr, who promifed
" him he mould that day fup with the
" Lord Do you go then, faid he, in
" my
r 254 ]
" my room, for I keep fail to day."
(Montaigne.) This repartee gave Prior
the fubjedt for his ballad of the Thief and
Cordelier but he has much improved
the wit, by making the prieft allege his
failing, in compliance with the rules of
the church, prevented him from fupping
in Paradife in the room of the criminal.
The fong is too well known to need
quotation.
Aflbredly we owe the exiilence of
Prior's Alma, one of the moil fmifhed
and original Poems in our language, to
the following pafTage from Montaigne.
" The natural heat firil feats itfelf in the
" feet that concerns infancy. Then it
" mounts into the middle region, where
" it makes a long abode, and produces,
" in my opinion, the only true pleaiure
" of human life; all other pleafures,-in
" comparifon, ileep. Towards the end,
'* like a vapour that frill mounts upward,
* it arrives at the throat, where it makes
" its
" its final refidence, and concludes the
" progrefs." If this had been written
after the Poem, it would have paiTed for
an abridgement of it perhaps, Prior's
calling it the Progrefs of the mind, might
have been occafioned by the lafl word
of the quotation. Beiides taking Mon-
taigne's ideas as the plan of his Poem, he
has verfified the above paflage as a pro-
fpectus of the whole defign.
My fimple fyftem (hall fuppofe,
That Alma enters at the toes ;
That then me mounts by juft degrees,
Up to the ancles, legs, and knees ;
Next, as the fap of life does rife,
She lends her vigor to the thighs :
And, all thefe under-regions paft,
She neftles fomewhere near the wafte:
Gives pain or pleafure, grief or laughter ;
As we lhall (how at large hereafter.
Mature, if not improv'd, by time,
Up to the heart me loves to climb ;
From thence, compelPd by craft and age.
She makes the head her lateft ftage.
It has been often faid, that Voltaire is
much obliged to Englifh literature he
is
is fo, but then it is in fuch a fort as to
do honour to the fources of his imitation.
Who but himfelf could have made
the following paffages fo dexterouily his
own?
" There is a tall long-fided dame
(But wondrous light) ycleped Fame
* * * #
Two trumpets flie does found at once,
But both of clean contrary tones ;
But whether both with the fame wind,
Or one before and one behind,
&c. &c."
HlTDIBRAf.
" La Renommce a toujours deux Trompettes,
L'une a fa bouche appliquee a propos,
Va celebrant les Exploits des Heros,
L'autre eft au cu"
LA PUCELLE.
As an owl that's in the barn
Sees a moufe creeping in the corn,
Sits Hill, and fhuts his round blue eyes
As if he flept, until he fpies
The little beaft within his reach,
Then ftarts, and feizes on the wretch.
HUDIBRAS.
Ainfi
[ 257 1
" Ainfi qu'un chat qui, d'un regard avidc
Guette au paflage une fouris timide,
Marchant tout doux, la terre ne fent pas
L'hapreffion de ces pieds delicats,
Des qu'il 1'a vue, il a faute fur elle."
LA PUCELLE.
The thievery of a fool is never ex-
cufed, becaufe no one can return the
compliment 5 but, we pardon a genius,
becaufe if he takes, he is qualified to give
in return. The great natural pofleffions
of Sterne, Prior, and Voltaire, will af-
ford ample refources to thofe of their
fucceffors who have abilities to make re-
prifals.
On
[ 258 J
On Pope's Epitaphs.
" If there is any writer whofe genius can embellifh
impropriety, and whofe authority can make error
venerable, his works are the proper objects of cri-
tical inquifition."
RAMBLER, No. 139.
endeavour to reftore fame where
it has been taken away, is a plealing em-
ployment; but if it be neceflarily con-
nected with the fame fault in yourfelf
which you wim to correct in another,
there, feems caufe for at leaft as much
pain as pleafure.
I am in this very predicament and
hope my intention to reinflate a poet in
his ancient honours, will be held as an
equivalent to any juft motive which may
be afligned for abating the credit of his
critic I wim the one could be done with-
out
1
[ 259 ]
out the other and muft beg to have it
remembered, that this is not an attack
upon Johnfon, but a vindication of Pope,
The defire of having a dead friend re-
membered by a good Epitaph, occafions
frequent applications to thofe poets who
enjoy public reputation, which they are
expected to comply with, as if anfwering
a demand for a commodity in which they
dealt. Pope, I believe, had nothing of
this fort to difpofe of, unlefs his heart
very powerfully feconded the application
in confequence, his Epitaphs have ge-
nerally a pathetic caft, and feem rather
intended to affect our feelings, than to be
objects of criticifm. Dr. Johnfon thought
differently my intention is to hyper-
criticize his criticifm. Where I could
abridge his remarks without prejudice to
the fenfe, I have done it. The Epitaphs
for the moft part could not be abridged ;
which forces me to tranfcribe (what I
would willingly have avoided) lines fo
S 2 well-
f
[ 260 ]
well known, and once fo much ap-
plauded.
On the EARL of DORSET.
* (i) Dorfet, the grace of courts, the Mufes pride,
(2) Patron of arts, and judge of nature, dy'd.
The fcourge of pride, though fanclify'd or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in ftate. (3)
Yet foft in nature, (4) though fevere his lay,
His anger moral, and his wifdom gay.
(5) Bleft fatyrift ! who touch'd the mean fo true
As ftiew'd, vice had his hate and pity too.
Blcft courtier ! who could King and country pleafe.
Yet (6) facred kept his friendfhip and his eafe.
Bleft peer ! his great forefather's every grace
Refle&ing, and reflected on his race ;
Where other Buckhurfts, other Dorfets fhine
And patriots ftill, or poets, deck the line !
POPE.
(Johnfon.} " The firft diftich of this
Epitaph contains a kind of information
which few would want that the man
for
* The fame references do for the Epitaph, Cri-
ticifm, and Reply, which, in reading, fhould follow
each other. In fome inftances, the Criticifm and
Reply are neceflarily without a correfponding num-
ber in the Epitaph.
t 261 ]
for whom the tomb was ere&ed ( i ) died,
&c. What is meant by judge of nature,
is not eafy to fay. Nature is not the ob-
jedl of human judgment ; for it is vain to
judge where we cannot alter. If by na-
ture is meant what is commonly called
nature by the critics, a juft reprefentation
of things really exifting and adtions really
performed, nature cannot be properly op-
pofed to art ; nature being in this fenfe
only the beft effecl: of art." (2)
" The fcourge of pride"
POPE.
" Of this couplet, the fecond line is
not, what is intended, an illuftration of
the former, pride in the great, is indeed
well enough conne&ed with knave? in
ftate * * * but the mention of fanflified
pride will not lead the thoughts to fops
in learning * * * but to fomething more
gloomy and more formidable than fop-
." (3)
S i " Yet
t 262 ]
" Yet foft his nature"
POPE.
" This is a high compliment, but was
not firft beftowed on Dorfet by Pope. (4)
The next verfe is extremely beautiful ;
\ Bleft fatyrift"
POPE.
" In this diftich is another line, of
which Pope was not the author. (5) * * *
*' Bleft courtier"
POPE.
" Whether a courtier can be properly
commended for keeping his eafe facred,
may, perhaps, be difputable, * * * I
wifh our poets would attend a little more
accurately to the ufe of the word (6)Ja-
cred, which furely mould never be applied
in a ferious compolition, but where fome
reference may be made to a higher Being,
or where fome duty is exacted or implied.
* * * I know not whether this Epitaph
be
be worthy either of the writer or of the
man entombed." (7)
(Reply.} (i) The poet's meaning is
very clear, unlefs it be purpofely per-
verted " Neither the rank nor accom-
plifhments of Dorfet exempted him from
the common lot of all men" this was
not intended for information, but it is a
natural reflection. (2) " A patron to
artifts, and himfelf a philofopher."
(3) " He was the fcourge of pride
wherefoever he found it he corrected
thofe pretenfions to learning where va-
nity was predominant, and had no refpect
to knaves in power." (4) If this was
his real character, mould it be fupprefled
becaufe it had been faid before ? Befides,
it has nothing particular, and may be
juftly faid of many, without incurring the
cenfure of plagiarifm.
(5) This
(5) This is an affertion without proof
as it is in the nature of an accufation,
it ought to have been fupported.
(6) The word " facred" is frequently
ufed without the leaft idea of a religious
application
" Sacred to ridicule Jus whole life long,
And the fad burthen of fome merry fong."
POPE.
Nay, it required not Dr. Johnfon's learn-
ing to know, that the Latin word from
whence it is derived, fometimes fignines
the very reverfe to any thing fet apart
for divine ufes
Ego fum raalus, ego {\imfacer, fceleftus.
PLAUTUS.
(7) It is worthy of both for ought
that has appeared to the contrary how-
ever, there is a fault, which, as it ef-
caped the notice of the poet (who furely
had the bell ear of the two) his critic
may
may be excufed for not difcovering.
This is the jingle of the fame found, oc-
calioned by the blameable repetition of
" pride" in the firft and third lines.
On Sir W. TRUMBAL.
A pleating form, a firm, yet cautious mind,
Sincere, though prudent ; conftant, yet refign'd ;
Honour unchang'd, a principle profeft,
Fix'd to one fide, but moderate to the reft ;
An honeft courtier, (9) yet a patriot too, (10)
Juft to his prince, and to his country true.
(i i) FilPd with the fenfe of age, the fire of youth,
A fcorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth ;
A generous faith, from fuperftition free :
A love to peace, and hate of tyranny ;
Such this man was ; who now, from earth remov'd
(tz) At length enjoys that liberty he lov'd.
Po?i.
(Johnfon.} " In this Epitaph * * is a
fault * * the name is omitted (8) * * *
There is an oppofition between an honeft
courtier and a patriot ; for an honeft
courtier cannot but be a patriot (9) * *
It was unfuitable to the nicety required
in ihort compofitions, to clofe his verfe
with
[ 266 ]
with the word too (10) ** FilVd is
weak and profaic ( 1 1 ) * * * The thought
in the laft line is impertinent * * * it
would have been jufl and pathetic if ap-
plied to Bernardi, who died in prifon
after a confinement of forty years without
a crime; but why fhould Trumbal be
congratulated on his liberty, who had
never known reftraint ? (12)
(Reply.} (8) Undoubtedly, a fault in
the Epitaph.
(9) Moll certainly, an " hone ft" man
is fo in all ftations, but Pope himfelf ex-
plains his meaning " He was juft to his
prince (an honeft courtier) and true to
his country (a patriot too)."
(10) To be fure, if this monosyllable
be taken out of its place, and looked at
very particularly, there is nothing in it
to engage much attention for this the
poet is not accountable.
(n) The
[ 267 ]
( 1 1 ) The foregoing remark will in
part apply to this in fa&, there is no-
thing of fufficient confequence to juftify
any obfervation.
(12) Dr. Johnfon's religion undoubt-
edly taught him, that the foul, when
united to the body, is in a ftate of confine-
ment "When mail I be delivered from
this body of death ?" exclaims St. Paul
" While we are confined in this penfold
here/' fays Milton. There is nothing
new or particular in this : the doctrine is
held by all orthodox believers, in which
number theDoctor is moll fu rely included.
On the Honorable . HARCOURT.
To this fad fhrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near,
Here lies the friend moil lov'd, the fon moft dear.
Who ne'er knew joy, but friendfhip might divide.
Or gave his father grief, but when he died.
How vain is reafon, eloquence how weak !
If Pope muft tell what Harcourt cannot fpeak.
Oh ! let thy once-lov'd friend infcribe thy (lone.
And with a father's forrovv mix his own.
POPE.
[ 268 ]
(Johnfon.) " The name in this Epi-
taph is inferted with a peculiar felicity, &c.
* # * I wifli the two laft lines had been
omitted, as they take away from the energy
what they do not add to the fenfe." (13)
(Reply.) (13) There is a better reafon
flill the firft quatrain ends with " Or
gave \\\s father grief, but when he died"
the fecond ends with " And with a fa-
ther j forrow mix his own" The word
father in fo mort a piece mould not have
been repeated at all, but if there had been
a neceflity for it, the repetition mould not
have been in the fame part of the line.
On JAMES CRAGGS, Efq.
JACOBUS CRAGGS
Regi magnaj Britanniae, &c. &c.
Statefman, yet friend to truth! of foul fmcere,
In aftion faithful, and in honour clear, (14)
Who broke no promife, ferv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who loft no friend, (15)
Ennobled by, himfelf, by all approv'd ;
Prais'd, wept, and honour'd by the Mufe he lov'd.
POPE.
t 269 ]
(Johnfon.) * * * " There is a redun-
dancy of words in the firfl couplet : it is
fuperfluous to tell of him who was Jin-
cej-e, true, and faithful, that he was in
honour clear. (14) There feems to be
an oppolition intended in the fourth line,
which is not very obvious : where is the
wonder that he who galnd no title, mould
lofe no friend? (15) * * * It is abfurd
to join in the fame infcription Latin and
Englifh, or verfe and profe," (16) &c.
(Reply.) (14) It is true that the epi-
thets of themfehes are of the fame clafs,
but if connected with their fubftantives,
the famenefs ceafes. Befides, the oppo-
fition between " Statefman, yet friend to
truth" takes " true" out of the cata-
logue. Surely, though a fincere foul in-
cludes all virtues, yet, in detail it is dif-
ferent from being " faithful in action,"
or " clear in honour."
(15) There
[ ' 7 J
.*.,
(15) There is certainly no bppofition
between " title" and " friend," but there
is between " gain'd" and " loft," which
are fufficient for all the effect of oppo-
fition.
(16) It is undoubtedly, falfe tafte.
On Mr. ROWE.
Thy reliques, Rowe, &c. &c.
* * * *
Peace to thy gentle fliade, (17) &c.
POPE.
(Johnfon.) * * * "To wifh, peace to
thy fliade (17) is too mythological to be
admitted into a Chriflian Temple, the
ancient worfhip has infedled almoil all
our other compofitions, and might there-
fore be contented to fpare our Epitaphs.
" Let fidion ceafe with life, &c. &c."
(Reply.} (17) As Dr. Johnfon (like
Parfon Adams) " though he was not
afraid of ghofts, did not abfolutely difbe-
lieve
lieve them," why mould he object to the
word " fhade ?" Would " foul" have
been better ? But, as Trim fays, that
would have been but a " Popiih ihift."
On Mrs. CORBET.
(Nothing particular.)
On the Honourable ROBERT DIGBY.
(Nothing remarked, except)
(Jo/in/on.) " The fcantinefs of human
praifes can fcarcely be made more appa-
rent, than by remarking how often Pope
has, in the few Epitaphs which he com-
pofed, found it neceffary to borrow from
himfelf. (18)
(Reply.) ( 1 8 ) It ought to be remem-
bered, that each Epitaph is a fingie un-
connected thing, and has nothing to do
with any other that it is the critic, and
not the poet, that has brought them to
quarrel with each other, cr to agree
where
where they ought to differ. It is certain,
that all thefe Epitaphs together make but
an exceeding fmall body of poetry, but it
is as certain, that no other poet has made
fo many that were really infcribed upon
monuments.
On Sir GODFREY KNELLER.
Kneller, &c. * *
Lies crown'd (19) with prince's honours, poet's lays.
POPE.
(Johnfon.) The third couplet is de-
formed by a broken metaphor, the word
"crowned" (19) not being applicable to
the " honours" or the " lays"
(Reply.} (19) To crown with honour,
or glory, is juftified by common ufe.
" Crown me with glory, take who will the bays*'
And
" With honour let defert be crown'd."
Certainly neither Honour nor Glory are
tangible fubflances, and of courfe cannot
be
t 273 ]
be put upon the head it is needle fs to
dwell on fuch objections.
On General WITHERS.
(20) O ! born to arms ! O worth in youth approved ;
O foft humanity in age beloy'd !
For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear,
And the gay courtier feels the figh fincere. (21)
* * * *
POP.
(Johnfon.) * * * " The particle O /
(20) ufed at the beginning of a fentence,
always offends * * There is fomething
of the common cant of fuperficial faty-
rifts, to fuppofe, that the infincerity (21)
of a courtier deftroys all his fenfations,
&c. At the third couplet I mould wifti
the Epitaph to clofe, (22) &e. &c.
(Reply.} (20) The double repetition
of " O" certainly offends. (21) I be-
lieve it is a generally received opinion,
that diffimulation is a neceflary part of a
courtier's character, which is fufficient to
juftify the expreflion.
T (22) If
[ 274 ]
(22) If the Epitaph had ended here,
it would have had nothing to mark the
conclufion.
On Mr. E. FENTON.
This modefl flone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly fay, here lies an honeft man, (23)
A poet, bled beyond the poet's fate,
Whom Heaven kept facred from the proud and great :
Poe to loud praife, and friend to learned eafe,
Content with fcience in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on either life ; and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear;
From nature's temperate feaft rofe fatisfy'd,
Tiiank'd Keav'n that he had liv'd and that he dy'd.
POP'S.
(Johnfon.) " The firft couplet of this
Epitaph is borrowed. (23) The four
next lines contain a fpecies of praife pe-
culiar, original, and juft. (24) Here,
therefore, the infcription mould have
ended, the latter part containing nothing
but what is common to every man who
is wife and good, (25) &c."
(Reffy.)
I 275 ]
(Reply.) (23) It is common enough
to fay, " Here lies an honeft man" the
Epitaph takes off from the objection, by
hinting, that upon few tombftones it has
a right to be engraved.
(24) See (22);
(25) To be in general " wife and
good" was the real character of Feriton
there were no particular traits in it.
On Mr. GAY.
Of manners (26) gentle, of affections mild ;
In wit, a man ; fimplicity, a child :
With native humour tempering virtuous rage, (28)
Form'd to delight at once, and lafh the age : (29)
Above temptation, in a low eftate,
And uncorrupted, ev'n among the great :
A fafe companion (30) and an eafy friend,
Unblam'd thro' life, lamented in thy end, (31)
Thefe are thy honours ! not that here thy buft
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy duft;
But that the worthy and the good (hall fay,
Striking their penfive bofoms Here lies Gay.
POPE.
T 2 (Johnfon.)
(John/on.) * * * The two parts of
the firft line are only echoes of each
other ; "gentle manners" and " mild (26)
affeSfiottef* if they mean anything, muft
mean the fame.
" That Gay was a " man in <wit" is a
very frigid commendation ; to have the
wit of a man is not much for a poet.
" The wit (27) of man" and the " Jim-
flicity of a child" make a poor and vulgar
contraft, and raife no ideas of excellence,
either intellectual or moral.
" In the next couplet " rage" is lefs
properly introduced after the mention of
" mildnefs" and " gentlenefs" which are
made the conftituents of his character ; for
a man fo " mild" and "gentle" to " tem-
per" his "rage" was not difficult. (28)
" The next line is unharmonious in
its found, and mean in its conception ;
the oppofition is obvious, and the word
[ 277 ]
" lajh" ufed abfolutely, and without any
modification, is grofs and improper. (29)
* * * to be a " fafe (30) companion"
is praife merely negative, arifing not from
the pofleflion of virtue, but the abfence
of vice, and that one of the moft odious.
" As little can be added to his charac-
ter, by afTerting that he was " lamented
in his end" Every man that dies, is, at
leaft by (31) the writer of bis Epitaph,
fuppofed to be lamented, and therefore
this general lamentation does no honour
to Gay.
" The eight firft lines have no gram-
mar ; (32) the adjectives are without any
fubftantive, and the epithets without a
fubject.
" The thought in the laft line, that
Gay is buried in the bofoms of the " wor-
thy" and the " good" ,who are diftin-
T 3 guifhed
guifhed only to lengthen the line, is fo
dark, that few underftand it; and fo
harm, when it is explained, that ftill
fewer approve. (33)
(Reply.} (26) It is true, that " gentle"
and " mild" are of the fame family, but
I never knew before that " manners" and
" affections" were the fame our man-
ners may be mild, and our affections
flrong, or our manners may be rough,
and our affections weak, or they may
both be violent, or mild , which latter
was Gay's character.
(27) He was in wifdom (for fo wit*
means in this place) a mature man, but
as artlefs as a child I believe this was
never but once confidered as a poor and
vulgar contrail, nor could I have thought
it
* This was its firft fignification "
" I thought you had more wit, &c. &c.".
it ever had failed in railing ideas of excel-
lence, both intellectual and moral.
(28) As he was a virtuous man he was
difpleafed (a poet may fay, enraged) at
the vices of the times, but as he was a
man of humour, he might exprefs his in-
dignation rather like Horace than Juve-
nal this is the natural meaning of the
paflage. ,
(29) See (28) for the poet's thought
the objection to lajli I do not under-
ftand.
(30) If to be a " fafe companion and
an ea/y friend" be only negative praife,
let no one pretend to praife pqfitive. If
there are two virtues more particularly
pleating in fociety than any other, they
are thofe which Pope found in his friend,
and publimed to the world in his Epitaph.
As the whole is univerfally read with
emotions of fympathy and tendernefs,
T 4 this
[ 280 ]
this line in particular juftifies the pro-
priety of our fenfations.
(31) To ufe an expreffion of Dr.
Johnfon's own, " there is a frigidity" in
this, which fets at nought all attempts
to enliven it.
(32) If they have not grammar they
have tafte and feeling, which were fub-
jecls not fo well underftood by the critic
but why have they not grammar ? Is
it fo unufual to delay, in conftruction,
the jirft part of a fentence until the end
of it?
" Of man's firft difobedience, &c.
* * * fing heav'nly mufe."
Is it neceffary to explain this ? " Sing hea-
venly mufe of man's firft difobe^ience,
&c.'* In like manner, " Thefe are thy
honours, to be of manners gentle, &c."
It mould be obferved, that though " ta
be'
t 281 3
fa" was neceflary in my explanation, it
;s not fo for the original.
(33) It is confefled that there is but
a made of difference between " worthy
and good i" but if there were none, fuch
pleonafms are common enough ; particu-r
larly in the Common Prayer, " we have
erred 'xn&ftrayed from thy ways" " we
are tyed and bound* &c." The expref-
fion here lies, as commonly ufed, ad-
mitting but of one /enfe, and that fixed
by long cuftom ; it cannot (though for a
better) be eafily departed from.
Intended for Sir I. NEWTON.
ISAACUS NEWTONIUS
Quern immortalem
Teflantur, Tempus, Natura, Ccelum:
Mortalem (34)
Hoc Marmor fatetur.
Nature, and nature's laws, lay hid in night :
God faid, Let Ncivtos be ! and all was light.
POPE.
(Johnfon.)
[ 282 ]
(Johnfon.) " Of this Epitaph, mort
as it is, the faults feem not to be very
few. * * * In the Latin, the oppofition
oiimmortalis and mortalis, is a mere found
or a mere quibhle ; he is not immortal in
any fenfe contrary to that in which he is
mortal. (34)
" In the verfes the thought is obvious,
and the words " night" and " light" are
too nearly allied." (35)
(Reply.} (34) He is immortal (that
is, as long as fcience exifts) by his great
difcoveries in natural philofophy ; but by
his tomb we find him to be mortal no
one before ever found any difficulty or
impropriety.
... It is obvious from whence Pope took
the allufion, and it ought to be fo j but
that is different from the thought being
obvious. (35) "Night" and "light" to
the ear are more alike than to the eye.
On
[ 283 I
On EDMUND Duke of BUCKINGHAM.
Who died in the Nineteenth Year of his Age.
If modeft youth with cool reflection crown'd, (36)
And every opening (37) virtue blooming round,
f Could fave a parent's juileft pride from fate,
I Oi- add one patriot to a finking flate ;
J This weeping marble had not aflc'd thy tear,
" I Or fadly told, how many hopes lie here !
J The living virtue now had flione approv'd,
t_The Senate heard him, and his country lov'd.
Yet fofter honours, and lefs noify fame,
Attend the (hade of gentle Buckingham :
In whom a race, for courage fam'd and art, (39)
Ends in the milder merit of the heart;
And chiefs or fages long to Britain given,
Pay the laft tribute of a Saint to Heaven.
(Johnfon.) * * * "To " crown"
with " reflection" is furely a mode of
fpeech approaching to nonfenfe. " Open-
ing virtues blooming round" is fomething
like tautology ; the fix following lines are
poor and profaic. (38) ' Art" is ufed
for ." arts" that a rhyme may be had to
" heart" &c."
(Reply.)
(Reply.} (36) To crown with reflec-
tion is certainly not very correct this
expreffion cannot be juftified by (19)
yet,* we fay, the end crowns all as the
crowning of a king is the greateft honour
he can receive, fo a fortunate ending puts
the crown on former actions.
(37) If we mujl take exception to this
phrafe, we fhould rather think it a con-
tradiction than a tautology flowers that
are opening cannot be faid to be blooming
but the firfl poet in the univerfe may
be directed in this manner, until he lofes
both fubftance and form, and is reduced
to nothing !
(38) What is generally underftood by
profaic, is, fentences having the common
form of ftrudure whereas poetry con-
fifts of inverfions, and a dignity of ex-
preffion, which fuit not with profe. If
thefe lines be examined upon this prin-
ciple,
r 285 ]
ciple, the objection will be found to have
no force.
(39) " Art" for " arts' is not to be
defended.
There is an expreffion in this Epitaph,
which, though not uncommon, is im-
proper. " This weeping marble," no
doubt, every one underftands without
explanation but it is impomble not to
attend to the immediate meaning mar-
ble, on which moiflure is condenfed in
drops and which, in fad:, is much more
like tears, than a Cupid with his hand to
his eyes. I fee all the poverty and mean-
nefs of fuch a conceit, but it really ob-
trudes itfelf on the imagination, in con-
fequence of " marble" being mentioned
inftead of the fculptured figure.
The
t 286 ]
tte Hermit.
IN OT long fince a Gentleman, whofe
real name I mall difguife under that of
Adrafhis, took.it into his head to give
up, or rather to mun fociety, and retire
to a poor cottage, which may Hill be
found between Brecknock and the neigh-
bouring mountain called the Beacon.
The place, tho' lonely, was not fecluded
from obfervation betides, he was obliged
to attend the market at Brecknock for
neceflaries, fo that it was well known
fuch a perfon was there, and lived by
himfelf. It is true, that once a day a
middle-aged woman called at the houfe
to clean it, which when me had done, me
departed; and now and then a perfon
going by would afk if he wanted any
thing from the town with thefe excep-
tions,
tions, he might be faid to live abfolutely
alone. Acquaintance he had none, altho*
he cheerfully joined in fuch converfation
as chance threw in his way. If the wea-
ther was unfavourable, he {laid at home
when it was fine, he explored the vales,
or afcended the mountains of the beautiful
country he had chofen for his refidence.
As his pace was fometimes flow and fo-
lemn, and at other times quick and im-
petuous, his air was not like one of this
world, efpecially as he would at times
paufe to look at fome trifling object, and
feem to obferve a great deal where the
common eye could fee nothing. Thefe,
and other circumftances, occaiioned Adraf-
tus to be confidered as a peculiar charac-
ter, and, tho* always mentioned v as a
whimfical being, yet, as no one found he
did any harm, he was left to purfue his
vagaries in peace. Almoft the greateft
favor the world has to beftow !
One
[ 283 ]
One fummer-morning, carrying nis
day's provilion in his pocket, he afcended
the Beacon, and feated himfelf on the
edge of that rapid defcent which over-*
looks the vale of the Uike. He was
alone, it is true, but the furrounding ob-
jects furnimed fuch a quick fucceiTion of
ideas, that before he could half fmifh one
fubject, another prefented itfelf for con-
federation, and altogether produced that
agreeable tumult of the mind which is
fuppofed to be found only in fociety.
The keen air of the place reminding him
pf his dinner, he drew forth his cold
mutton and bread, unconfcious of being
obferved, and was eating with a fenfation
of pleafure unknown where it is endea-
voured to be excited at a great expence.
" Suppofe you warned it down with a
glafs of punch," faid a gentleman behind
him, who made one of a large party of
both fexes, that had come from Brecon
to fpend a day on the mountain " Very
willingly,
willingly, Sir," replied Adraflus, who
was too collected and firm in himfelf to
be alarmed at an unexpected addrefs. He
arofe from the turf, and joined the com-
pany, who were mixing their mrub
from the adjoining natural bafin of pureft
water.
" Pray Sir," fays the Granger, " can
you pombly account for this fpring on the
top of a mountain ? or for that round bafin
that is down in yonder hollow, which
they tell me is unfathomable ?" " Per-
haps," replied Adraflus, " I might give
a fatisfaclory anfwer to your queition, but
it would be encroaching too much upon
the fubjects of general converfation."
" It was the very fubject which engaged
our attention," replied the other, " and
the fhorteft way of introducing a new
one would be to difpatch this." "The
fpring," laid Adraftus, " may poffibly be
fupplied by the vapours which moll: com-
monly refl on the mountain head, or it
U may
[ 290 ]
may afcend from below like water through
fand perhaps both caufes are combined
-the circumftance is common, and we
need not recur to any extraordinary prin-
ciple."
The ladies were liftening to the moun-
tain-philofopher with great attention ;
when the guide whifpered who it was
they had accidentally met, and gave all
the traits of his character the fhort time
afforded. The converfation now had
more of the company to join in it " The
water is delicious," fays a lady, '* and
makes admirable punch," faid a gentle-
man " But, there is the punch-^ow/ be-
low," faid another, pointing down to the
lake " That bowl," pleafantly replied
Adraftus, " was once as full of fire as it
is now of water" here he was inter-
rupted by a general interjection of fur-
prize he continued " This mountain
was once a volcano ; that round balin is
the crater it bears a general refemblance
to
[ 2 9 I.]
to twenty other mountains in Wales, all
which have their craters j now become
fmall circular lakes of a vaft depth/'
This language was by no means under-
flood by the company, who knew more
of punch-bowls than craters, and poor
Adraftus was confidered as a little cracked,
by all, but the perfon to whom the guide
had defcnbed him, who very oddly con-
ceived an idea, which afterwards produced
a refolution we fliall again have an occa-
fion to mention.
When the ham, cold beef, and chicken-
pye were eaten, and the punch drank ;
the company having fmiflied their buii-
neis, bade adieu to Adrallus, and de-
parted. He traced them down the dif-
ferent flages of the mountain, remarking
the diminution of objects by dntance, and
their increasing faintnels by aerial per-
fpe&ive. After waiting to lee the full-
in oppolition to the fetting fun, he
U * alfo
[ 292 J
alfo defcended - y and with his ufual occu-
pation of mind came home but the
moon furveyed through his telefcope
robbed him of fome hours repofe.
As the company proceeded to Brecon,
the guide acquainted them more at large
with all he knew, and all he had heard of
Adraftus : and although a great part of
the latter was untrue, yet that perfon
mentioned above, and whom we will call
Crito, who was one of thofe characters
that fancy themfelves geniufes that they
have tafte, and prefume to be critics in
the arts " moil ignorant of what they're
moft aflured" who never felt any real
pleafure in his life, tho' he was ever
in fearch of it This perfon remarking
the occupation of mind and cheerful air
of Adraftus, conceived that retirement
was the only plan for enjoyment, and
determined alfo to retire which accor-
dingly not long after he did, choofing
for his retreat a folitary place among the
lakes
[ 2 93 ]
lakes in Cumberland. Finding himfelf
in a few minutes, very ftupid ; and in a
few hours, the moft miferable of mortals,
and conceiving fome difpleafure againft
Adraftus, by whofe example he had been
mifled ; he very prudently determined to
refume his former mode of life, but in
his way back to call on Adraftus. Being
at Brecon directed to his cottage, they
had the following converfation
C. The laft time we met was on that
mountain do you recollect me, Sir ?
A. I dare fay I mail foon an ac-
quaintance begun on a mountain, with
me is a facred thing it is not like an in-
troduction at a formal vilit.
C. I fee that you have ft ill that cheer-
fulnefs which led me firft to imagine it
was your retirement that produced fuch
happy effedts in confequence, I alfo re-
tired with much difficulty I held out
U 3 one
[ 294
one day ; and on the next, if I had not
left my difmal folitary cell I muft have
fent to the next town for a cord or a
piftol. You fairly took me in.
A. Admirable ! a perfon like you ac-
quainted with the world (for fo I fup-
pofe) muft often have heard that there is
no trufting to appearances perhaps I am
a cheat but I will not deceive you I
really am as I appear your miftake was
in thinking that you and I are beings of
the fame clafs What fays the poet?
* ' Man differs more from man, than man
from beaft."
C. This is certain, that / find no
pleafure in foiitude, you do.
A. You again miftake foiitude is to
me the moft dreadful of all ideas for
which reafon I am never alone.
C.
[ 295 3
C. Then I was mifinformed
A. I confefs, appearances are againft
me, but, to quote another poet
* c And this my life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in {tones* and good in every thing."
Whatever I fee and hear is to me a fub-
jecl: of amufement, delight, or inftruc-
tion ; which perhaps is more than I mould
receive if I fought either from what is
called fociety. The works of nature,
confidered by themfelves, are a perpetual
fource of entertainment to a mind in the
habit of obfervation to a cultivated mm&,
great pleafure arifes, from calling up re-
membrance of paffages in poets, which
apply to the objects before you -, and when
we are reading thefe paflages, in referring
them to the objecl: or circumftance which
firfl infpired them. The fame mutual
reference applies to painting. We trace
in nature the fcenes which fired the ima-
U 4 gination
gination of Salvator, Pouffin, or Ruyf-
dael ; and the pictures themfelves remind
us of that aflemblage of objects to which
we owe thofe divine exertions of genius.
Where thefe fail, not an infecl, or even
ftone, but may be confidered as a fubjedt
of difquifition in natural-hiftory or philo-
fophy. Do you call this folitude ? Am
I not always in good company ?
C. You have a particular turn all
this is nothing to me but fuppofe the
weather be unfavourable, and you cannot
go out ?
A. Look on thefe fhelves they con-
tain about fifty volumes of the choiceft
Englim, French, and Italian authors. In
that port-folio are fome drawings of the
befl artifts and fee there is a pile of
mufic-books, and an excellent piano-
forte. Is this folitude ?
C.
[ 297 1
C. I have no relifh for reading, paint-
ing, or muiic that is, in your way. I
like a newfpaper at my breakfaft pic-
tures are delightful at the exhibition,
when the room is full of company ; and
if I wifh for mufic I go to the Opera, and
there too the company is my chief in-
ducement I am not particular all peo-
ple of tafte agree with me, and fo does
an old verfe-maker :
" Let bear or elephant be e'er fo white,
The people, fure the people, are the fight."
A. But, with thefe ideas in your head,
how could you think of. living by your-
felf ? If it will not punifh you too much,
permit me to read you a few thoughts on
retirement, which I committed to paper
the laft wet day fome paffages are not
inapplicable to yourfelf, although the
fubjecl: be on the propriety of retirement
for perfons advanced in life, which cer-
tainly is not your cafe Have I your per-
miflion ?
C.
C. You will oblige me.
A. There is not a great deal of it
(readmg) The idea of young perfons re-
tiring from the world is too abfurd to be
made a queiHon ; but there are ftrong
reafons for the retirement of old perfons ;
and, indeed, there are powerful argu-
ments againfl: it.
Thofe who believe a preparation for
death to be neceflary, and think it of
confequence to keep their thoughts un-
difturbed by the affairs of the world,
mould have nothing to interrupt their
meditations.
If we have lived a bufy life, and en-
joyed a reputation for brilliant parts or
perfonal accomplifhments ; the confciouf-
nefs of thofe faculties decaying may mor-
tify our confequence, and be a perpetual
fource of difguft if we flill continue to
mix with the world.
Although
[ 2 99 1
Although the body muft droop and
fade, yet, if the mind enjoy its priftine
Vigour, retirement prevents occalions of
expofmg the decay of our peribnal facul-
ties, and affords opportunities of enjoy-
ing mental pleafures, perhaps in a fupe-
rior degree - y as from experience we may
have learnt to make a proper eftimate of
ourfelves, of men, and their opinions :
and knowing that thefe enjoyments are
all that we have left, we value them as
our fole pofleffions.
Retirement alfo puts in our power
what remains of life, undifturbed, and
Unbroken by the interruptions of thole,
who, having no purfuit nor employment
of their own, feem fent into world '? to
take us from ourielves" thefe reafons
apply folely to perfons who have fome-
thing to engage their thoughts and at-
tention, and can derive entertainment and
enjoyment from their own proper iburces.
C. Meaning yourfelf.
A. But for thofe of a contrary dc-
fcription, retirement is altogether im-
proper
C. Meaning me.
A. Such people mould flill continue
their worldly pQrfuits and employments ;
as they are, from habit, and want of mental
occupations, incapable of any other. Let
the tradefman then, whofe life has been
long in the fame courfe of employment,
i^ill purfue his bufmefs, although his
fortune be far fuperior to his wants and
expences retirement to him is mifery.
C. Right, right
A. Thofe who have fpent their youth
in diffipation are conflrained to perfift in
the fame courfe, or to do nothing the
moil difagreeable ilate of all others.
From
From this confederation I am much more
inclined to pity, than to blame, perfons
of the other fex, who to avoid vacancy,
flill continue to haunt places of gay re-
fort, " and tho' they cannot play, o'er-
look the cards." Retirement then, is
only for thofe who find in themfehes
amufement, employment, or happinefs.
And thus ends my fermon.
C. And my vifit adieu !
The
The Reftramt of Society.
, tho' left " to purfue his
vagaries in peace," as we have already
remarked, yet many attempted to feek
his acquaintance fome, becaufe they
thought him an oddity; fome, becaufe
they thought him fenfible - y but moft, be-
caufe they faw he munned all advances
towards intimacy : for mankind has a na-
tural propenfity to teaze peculiar charac-
ters, even if the peculiarity be innocent.
However, he contrived, by his perfeve-
rance, to carry his point, and by his pru-
dence to avoid offence.
The want of a few neceiTaries directed
his fteps to Brecon one fine ^norning,
which, as cufhomary in a mountainous
country, becoming a rainy day, he dined
at
[ 33 1
at the inn with a variety of ftrangers,
whofe converfation chiefly turned upon
the fpirit of liberty which had broke forth
of late in different parts of the world.
Perfons who live in fociety, and are in
habits of converfation, never make long
fpeeches, from a principle of politenefs,
and foon exhauft all they have to fay upon
a fubject. The reverfe takes place with
the reclufe he having but few opportu-
nities of converfation, indulges thofe few
when they occur ; and having treafured
up a large ftore of matter, makes an of-
ten tatious difplay of his riches. Adraftus,
without duly reflecting on the laws of
converfation, at laft had all the difcourfe
to himfelf, and gave a turn to his oration
on liberty, as new as it was unexpected
he exprefled himfelf as follows :
* There is no fubject of late has more
agitated the minds of men than liberty ;
upon the blefling of which they agree,
although they materially differ upon the
means
[ 34 1
means of obtaining it. However, all
feem to limit their enquiries to whatyir/^
of government liberty is moil truly at-
tached, and when they have determined
the form agreeable to their own ideas,
they feek no farther, conceiving the point
to be eftablifhed.
The enjoyment of liberty under an ab-
folute prince feems fo much like a con-
tradiction, that blame may be incurred
for even mentioning them together. It
may be had under a limited monarchy,
fay the Englifh ; it is better obtained by
a Republic and Prefident, fay the Ame-
ricans -, but it is beft of all enjoyed when
every man is a citizen, and no more than
a citizen,* fay the French ; who are not
contented with having it in this form
themfelves, but they feem determined
that all the reft of the world mail be of
their opinion. Thus Mahomet, tho-
roughly
* Written in 1793.
[ 35 ]
roughly perfuaded of the truth and fupe-
rior goodnefs of his Koran, conceived it
a duty to propagate his doclrine by con-
queft. Thus the fanatics of the laft
century
***** prov'd their do&rines orthodox
By apoftolic blows and knocks"
And thus the Catholics of all times, ex-
cept the modern, thought they were doing
God and his Son good fervice, by forcing
a belief of chriftianity by the means of
tortures and death hitherto religious opi-
nions only have been thought worthy of
fuch great exertions, but our good neigh-
bours have made politics of equal impor-
tance.
As a man is not fed by hearing of good
dinners, but by what he puts into his
own flomach, fo, it may be prefumed,
no one feels the enjoyment of liberty far-
ther than that portion which comes to
his own mare. The reverfe of the po-
X ftion
fition is equally true if a man's perfon
and actions are free, he enjoys liberty
even under a defpot, but if his perfon or
his actions are confined, he is a flave al-
though a member of a Republic. Ad-
mitting the truth of this pofition ; if cir-
cumftances in private life take our liberty
from us, what are we the better for living
under a free goverment ; or how are we
hurt by defpotifin if we may go, a6t, and
fpeak as we pleafe ?
Should it be faid, that the eflence of a
free government is to give liberty, and
that the nature of defpotifm is to take
it away ; I can fubfcribe to this opinion
no farther than it is true and its truth
only reaches to purpofes and occafions
which do not occur in daily life, while
either form of government leaves the Ha-
ve ry unremedied with which we are daily
environed. If we are engaged in a law-
fuit, or called to anfwer for fome offence,
then we feel the advantage of a free go-
vernment
[ 37 ]
vernment with fixed laws, over a fentence
pronounced by an arbitrary judge, ap-
pointed by an arbitrary mafter but moft
men pafs their days without going to law,
and not one in fifty thoufand becomes a
victim to juftice.
The real flavery we feel, and it is
equal under all governments, is the re-
ftraint of fociety; under which we are
more compleatly mackled in all our ac-
tions, words, and even thoughts, than
by the moft imperious commands of the
moft abfolute tyrant for a defpotic man-
date does not defcend to minute particu-
lars; it puts on a chain, but leaves fome
limbs at liberty ; while the tyranny of
fociety draws a thoufand {lender threads
over us from head to foot, by which we
are more compleatly hampered than Gul-
liver in Lilliput.
I can fcarce flatter myfelf to have pro-
ceeded thus far without incurring fome.
X 2 cenfure,
cenfure, nor to finifh my fubjedt, with-
out more. I certainly might, without
trefpafs* have walked in a beaten path,
which ily quit, it muft be to my own
peril I tremble while I fay that the
marriage-vow the reciprocal 4uty be-
tween parents and children the offices
of friendmip the ceremonies of civility
all thefe take from us more perfonal
liberty than can be ballanced by any po-
litical liberty which the moft perfect
form of government can beftow.
Should you think that more pleafure
arifes from fuch reflraints than without
them be it fo ; but do not fay they are
confident with liberty. If a father gives
up his own enjoyment to encreafe that of
a fen if a fon abridges his own pleafures
becaufe he will not violate his duty to a
parent if my friend has my money, and
I want it myfelf if my time, inftead,of
being my own, is confumed in attentions
to acquaintance and the ceremonies of
company
[ 39 ]
company all thefe circumftances may
perhaps encreafe our enjoyment, but they
furely diminim our liberty. The more
we feel an obligation to do an action, the
more is the choice taken from us of doing
it, or not, as we pleafe; ofcourfe, the
more is our liberty abridged. If nature,
cuftom, or the rules of fociety require
us to fulfil certain duties to our relations,
friends, or acquaintance -, our not having
it in our power to act otherwife is cer-
tainly the definition of real flavery.
Let not my intention be miftaken. I
am not fpeaking againft natural or focial
attachments -, my opinion of them per-
fectly agrees with the reft of the world
L I only attempt to prove, that our greater!
reftraints do not arife from defpotifm in
any form of government, but from our-
felves. " We complain of our taxes,"
fays Dr., Franklyn, " we tax ourfelves
more than we can be taxed by a MinLfter."
It is our private habits by which we are
X 3 affected
r 3' ]
affedted in the common duties of focietv
j
is a greater portion of flavery than can be
inflicted by the moil defpotic fovereign."
\
The rapidity with which this fatirical
oration was delivered, did not permit a
fingle word to be thruft in by way of in-
terruption but no fooner was it con-
cluded, than the company made amends
for their retention, by all fpeaking toge-
ther; fome to commend, but moft to
object. Adraftus being truly fenfible of
his indifcretion, with great difpatch paid
for his ordinary, and left the company to
cut up his argument as a defert to their
dinner.
On
On Rhyme.
JX^HYME is allowed not to have exifted
until after the claffical ages, on which
account it is held by fome to be barba-
rous ; others think it fo congenial with
modern languages, that our poetry can-
not fubfift without it Milton feems to
have been of the former opinion, and Dr.
Johnfon of the latter.
On this fubjecl:, as well as many others,
we mould form rules from authorized
pra&ice, and not force great geniufes to
fubmit to our regulations. Poffemng fo
much exquiiite poetry in rhyme, let us
not call rhyme barbarous; and when
reading Milton and Shakelpcare, can we
fay that rhyme is ejjential to poetry?
From the effect of rhyme and blank-
X 4 verfe,
[ 3" 1
verfe, when ufed by good poets, we may
venture upon fome diftinctions, although
we dare not make laws.
When we read the Iliad by Pope, and
the Paradife Loft, we are ready to pro-
nounce, from their difference, that long
poems ought to be in blank verfe :* and
fhort ones, being conftantly in rhyme,
(with a very few exceptions) we may be
allured that they ought to be fo. There
is certainly a difference of character be-
tween long and fhort pieces a poem of
length is not many fhort ones put toge-
ther, nor will a fmall part of a long poem
make a fhort one. Take any detached
part of the Paradife Loft, however beau-
tiful, yet it evidently belongs to fome
great whole ; whereas a fhort piece has
the
* The Lycidas and Samfon Agonifles of Milton
have rhymes in a fcattered irregular manner, which
is a very pleafing ftru&ure for a poem of length
it gives a connexion of parts without the coriftant
artificial return of the lianza or couplet.
r 313 i
the air of fomething begun, and conclu-
ded, in a few lines. There is a greatnefs
of delign and a breadth of pencilling Im
the one a neatnefs of touch and high-
finiming in the other. In fome very few
inftances both thefe qualities are united:
Hudibras and the Alma, although poems
of length, have all the point of epigram.
If then high- finishing and neatneis be
chara&eriftics of mort pieces, it accounts
for rhyme being fo efTential to their per-
fection blank verfe, as before obferved,
belongs to fomething large in deiign and
manner. Another efientiaf of fmall poems
is, that the conclulion mould have fame-
thing to mark it. As I have mentioned
this more at large elfewhere, I ihall oailj
here remark, that Horace's Odes in ge-
n^ral are deficient in this particular, ani
that the mort pieces of Voltaire never
want it."
Another efFeft of rhyme is,
the parts of the poem, as far as the ftruc-
lure
[ 3'4 1
ture is concerned. To mew the good
effects of this connexion was the occafion
of the above prefatory remarks ; and, by
reducing it to a figure, perhaps we may
have a rule for judging of the merit of
different difpofitions of rhyme in the va-
rious fpecies oi poetry.
A piece compofed of couplets may be
expreffed thus
-------- \
-V"- >' --/ - - - o/
which has the appearance of two things
joined together, or one divided into
halves.
The alternate rhyme thus
1
a-
o
ax
[ 3'S J
Here the lines are fo connected, that the
iirft two cannot fublifl without the two
laft - y therefore the four lines make a
whole. But if a long piece were fo con-
ftru&ed, each quatrain would appear one
iingle unconnected thing, and have a
worfe effect than the couplet.
There is yet another difpofition of four
lines - ,*.
____--.__0
-__-----0.
______-- a '
which does better for long pieces, and
worfe for ftiort.
The ftanza of fix, feven, eight, and
nine lines, is varioufly compofed, and
fometimes very artfully; but its merit
altogether confifts, as far as relates to
ftructure, in a proper connection and va-
riety
t
riety of the rhymes let us exprefs
of them
IX
e \\
ufed by an unknown author in a fine
poem on his hirth-day.
.._.-..- e..-'
The above is Chaucer's Stanza, which
has not an ill efteft the difconnecled
couplet rather gives a precifion and finim
to the ilanza, and would be an excep-
tion
L 3'7 J
tion to the rule, if its conftant return had
not in fome, meafure the efted of con-
nedion.
In Spencer's and Beattie's Stanza the
lines are thus connected.
--_-_.__ a -
-------- O
-_-_-_--a
The rhymes in all ftanzas of this kind
are finely difpofed for connection, and
the whole is tyed together fo effectually,
that the lines cannot be disjoined from
each other. If the ftanza had coniifted
of couplets, the lines might have been
feparated into pairs.
From
t
From the above obfervations it does
not feem difficult to determine, whether
the legitimate Sonnet of Petrarch, and
his numberkis fucceflbrs, has any advan-
tage over the modern little poem, con-
fitting, like its original, of fourteen lines,
but the rhymes difpofed at pleafure. All
rules which do not tend to produce good
effect " are more honoured in the breach
than the obfervance." But if it be a
point of perfection that the parts of a
fhort poem mould be connected, and not
capable of dilunion; it will be found
that the old fonnet poffcfies this perfec-
tion* and that the modern wants it.
Petrarch and his imitators, Spencer
and Milton, generally connected their
lines in this manner.
[ 3-9 ]
: : >>
3 - - -
- . o--;
a /
aV
6 - - '--"
8
a' 7
9
10
ii
12
H
The irregular fonnet fometimes con-
fifts of couplets, ufually of quatrains, ei-
ther in alternate rhyme or otherwife ; fo
that although the thought may be fimple,
and run through the whole, yet the ftruc-
ture confifts of diftind: parts, fucceeding
each
* At this break the rhymes begin upon a new
fvflcm.
[ 32 ]
each other -this may be eafily conceived
after the preceding illuftrations. The
one pofieffing union, and the other want-
ing it, undoubtedly determines the point
in favour of the old fonnet. It muft be
obferved, (although it has been hinted
already,) that when we ufe the terms
connection, &c. that they relate entirely
to the form, and not to the fubjed: a
piece may be disjoined in its flructure,
but entire in its fubjedt, which may pre-
vent the difconne&ion from being ob-
ferved ; but if the lines are tyed together,
we perceive the efFeclt increafed, as the
foanet is one in its thought and expref-
fion. Thefe irregular little pieces mould
have fome appropriate term, becaufe the
eld- form of a fonnet feems as eflential as
its. confifting of fourteen lines.*
Perhaps
* It is not altogether foreign to the fubjeV, to
remark, that in Chaucer a paragraph often ends
with a half-couplet ; which is ftill the cuflom of
the
Perhaps the above obfervations may
furnifh a principle for determining the
refpe&ive merit of the different kinds of
poetry. If it be admitted blank-verfe
is better than rhyme for long works
rhyme better than blank-verfe for fhort
pieces alternate rhyme beft for the qua-
train J ; and the fixed form of the ancient
fonnet, is to be preferred to the irregular
ftrudhire of that poem to which the mo-
derns have affixed the fame appellation.
the French poets. It certainly has an unpleafing
effedt, as the fenfe and the rhyme do not conclude
together, but the compleating of the couplet con-
nes the prefent paragraph with the paft.
J This word is affumed to fave the trouble of
frequently ufing the long term of The four-line
ftanza.
On
Odd Numbers.
JL HAT there would be fomc general
principles which are common to all men,
is eafily conceived but it feems difficult
to aflign a reafon why diftincl: nations,
having no connection with each other,
mould agree in fome odd peculiarity.
To thofe people who are acquainted
with numeration beyond the ends of their
ten fingers, it feems moft natural, that
whole numbers Ihould be employed for
general purpofes. Thus we make prizes
of jf.iooo or > 1 0,000 in the lottery,
rather than 999 or 9999. But if we had
chofen the odd numbers! there would
have been inflances enough to be found
in different parts of the world, and even
among ourfelves, to keep us in counte-
nance.
[ 3*3 ]
nance. Take a few as they occur, which
might be much increafed from accounts
of the manners and cufloms of different
nations.
*' The Mandingoes (an African nation)
according to a precept of the Alcoran, li-
mit the number of ftripes for fmall crimes
to forty lacking one, and for greater of-
fences to ninety and nine." (Mathews.)
St. Paul fays, he received forty ftripes
fave one. A flave in the Weft-Indies is
alfo punifhed with forty fave one. On
board our mips of war all puniihments of
this fort were formerly inflicted in odd
numbers : they gave (as they term it) a
merry eleven ; and for greater faults, two
or three merry elevens- whether this
agrees with the prefent difcipline I know
not.
The game of cribbage is I o I if I die
(fay the common people) within a twelve-
month and a day.
Y 2 There
There are 999 fifh-ponds within the
walls of Nankin. The Emperor of China
has 9999 boats. The number of idols in
a Temple at Jedo, the capital of Japan,
Thunberg tells us, is 33333. With the
laft number we have nothing to compare,
but let us not forget our leafes for 999
years.
Why people fo different in manners,
and diftant in fituation, mould agree in
this peculiarity, which furely is the re-
verfe of a general principle; or why n,
39> 99> 999> or la % 33333' ^^
be preferred to the even numbers which
ftand next them, and have fo fuperior a
claim, requires more fkill, than I pof-
fefs, to explain.
Is it fuperftition ? If fo, are all people
fuperftitious, and in the fame particular ?
The firfl may be admitted, but not the
latter the fame principle, in other in-
ftances, is various in its operation. Per^
haps
[ 325 ]
haps an oddity of this fort, although found
in a civilized nation, had its fir ft origin
when it was barbarous. As civilization
makes all nations uniform, fo the want
of it may produce a famenefs of character
between people remote from each other.
It is in the early ftages of fociety that
fuch whimlies make their firft appear-
ance. But this fubjecl: makes part of
another which I have before treated at
large.*
* In the Four Ages.
Y 3 Late.
Late,
JL HE manners of the prefent age may-
be characterized by one mort word, Late.
Whatever hour is fixed for an engage-
ment of any fort, it is never kept. If
you invite your guefts at five, they come
at fix if a public entertainment begins
at feven, you leave your houfe at eight.
This practice is inconvenient even in
trifles, but in things of confequence, it
is thoroughly reprehenfible. It was no
lefs truly than wittily faid, by Lord Chef-
terfield, of the old Duke of Newcallle
" His Grace lofes an hour in the morn-
ing, and is looking for it all the reft of
the day."
Perhaps the real fource of our want of
fuccefs with a vigilant and punttual ene-
my,
t 3*7 ]
my, is protracting the time for a&ion
not conlidering, that according to the
proverb, it ffoys for no man, and that if
we are too late, it lignifies not whether
it be by a minute or a year.
In the American war many wife and
brilliant plans were adopted, which had
no other fault than being too late we
had the victory to gain, when we ought
to have been enjoying the fruits of it.
The lafl public inftance of this deftruc-
tive principle (at the time of writing
this) was in the failing of the Channel
fleet, which, by lofing a fortnight, moft
probably will occafion a train of misfor-
tune which diflant ages may not recover.
Whatever virtues the prefent Miniflry
may poffefs, they are more than balanced
by this pernicious monofy liable ; and as
there is not the leaft reafon forfuppofing
that the members of oppofition have
more punctuality, we fliould gain nothing
by an exchange.
Y 4 The
[ 3*8 ]
The following anecdote would be ri-
diculous, if the caufe of it did not make
part of all our concerns, either in private
or public life. An appointment was made
with an aflronomer to be at his obferva-
tory to fee an eclipfe. The good com-
pany conlidering cceleftial and terreftrial
engagements in the fame light, attended
the philofopher, and after chatting for
fome time, at laft recollected their bufi-
nefs, and begged to fee the eclipfe I am
forry, fays the Doctor, that I could not
prevail on the fun and moon to wait for
you the eclipfe was ended long before
your arrival*
i .
A
i i :J'3f' -
'The life of Accumulation.
llASSAN of Shiraz poffeffing wealth,
which he rafhly deemed inexhauflible,
became the Have of pleafure. Tartarian
females were employed by turns in fan-
ning him through the night, and, at
times, fprinkling his fkin with rofe-
water. Ice-fruits and coftly comfitures
were his morning regale, which being
ended, he bathed in polimed bafons of
white marble, and inhaled the breeze of
fragrance from the Jafmins of Arabia.
Borne by his fervants in a flately litter to
the Bazar, he paffed flowly before the
mops of the artificers, looking with a,
languid, but curious eye, on their various
productions of ingenuity -, endeavouring
to find a want, or to create a wifh but
his wants and wiihes had been too often
fupplied
[ 33 ]
fupplied to be ftill importunate. The
workers in filligree and embroidery, the
carvers in ivory, the goldfmiths, the
jewellers, had nothing to engage his at-
tention. The Armenian merchants, in-
deed, would {hew him, in fecret, the
coftly works of the Franguis, pictures
exhibiting refemblances of human figures,
which, becaufe they are forbidden by our
law, he eagerly purchafed. On his re-
turn, flopping where provifions are fold,
he ordered a fumptuous fupper to regale
his numerous friends, who never failed
to aflbciate at his entertainment, quaffing,
in cups of chriflal, the delicious liquor
which the holy prophet commands us not
to drink, while troops of dancers and
jugglers, fucceeding each other, furnifhed
the pafling moments with delight.
Having no fource of employment from
his own mind, he found himfelf con-
ftrained to continue his diffipation, to
avoid that frightful ftate of vacancy felt
by
[ 33' ]
by all who depend upon external circum*
ftances for pleafure. The wealth of the
Khan of Shiraz was too little to fupply
his conflant expences. When his kit
Toman was fpent ; afhamed to continue in
poverty where he had lived in fplendor,
he wandered from the city over the plain
without direction, as his wifh was rather
to avoid his home than to reach any other
place.
Evening approached ; the (lately mofques
of Shiraz were vanifhing in aerial obfcu-
rity, but no other town opened on his
view ; and as he had not compleated a
ufual day's journey, even the folitary
caravan-ferai was wanting to give him
fhelter and repofe.
The cold dews of night moiflened his
turban, and flood in drops upon his can*
giar and fcymetar, when he heard in the
mountains not far diftant, the barking of
jackalls, the howling of hyaenas, and the
roaring
[ 332 ]
roaring of the mighty tyger; for now
was the time when the wild-beafts of the
foreft afTume their turn to reign the
day they give up to man.
Fear of immediate danger banimed
from his mind the regret for having fpent
his fubftance difplaced the horror of
finding himfelf without companions, upon
whom had retted his fole dependance to
fill up the frightful void of life and even
prevented his attending to the calls of
hunger; a fenfation, which, until this
day, he had never felt. " There is no
other God but one Mahomet is his pro-
phet!" faid he earneftly, for the firft
time with devotion before the hour of
danger, it had only been his cuflom when
the crier from the Minaret called the
faithful to prayer.
The wandering fires which nightly flit
acrofs the plain, to the accuftomed tra-
veller are objedts of amufement, to Haf-
fan
[ 333 ]
fan they were fights of terror : yet he
followed them with his eye, and, by de-
grees, with his feet, until he had devia-
ted from the road which had brought him
from Schiraz. Difmal reflections occur-
red in comparing his prefent lituation
with that of the preceding evening, when
the founds and lights were thofe of mirth
and feftivity.
While he was refting, without a mo-
tive to retire or advance, he heard a creak-
ing noife juft before him, which was
followed by a man arifing from the earth
with a taper in his hand, who prefently
mut *the trap-door from whence he had
afcended. Unconfcious of being obferved,
he advanced where Haffan was ilanding,
and ftarted back at the reflection from the
fcymetar, drawn by Haflan on the firft
impulfe of fear. " Alas !" faid the ftran-
ger, " I am difcovered do not take the
life of one difarmed, and who has not of-
fended." " Thy life," replied Haflan,
"I
[ 334 3
" I cannot take, unlefsthe angel of death
permits ; and, if thy moments are ex-
haufted, thou canft not by entreaties add
to their number. I am a traveller who
feeks fhelter and repofe if thy habitation,
is near, conduct me to it."
The Granger fearing the fcymetar of
Haflan, returned to the trap-door
" Follow me/' fays he, defcending
" my abode is contrary to that of other
mortals they live upon the earth, I under
it." HafTan, who had never feen any
apartments but thofe of magnificence ; as
lie furveyed afkance the gloomy paflages,
felt that he had only changed one terro;-
for another.
They, at laft, entered a fpacious arched
hall, nearly full of coffers and bags, ar-
ranged round the walk, and which left
but a fmall fpace for the owner and his,
gueft.
Hafian,
t 335 ]
HafTan, now prote&ed by the laws of
hofpitality, fheathed his fcymetar, while
his hofl put on the table two fmall loaves,
fome grapes, and a veflel of the amber
wine of Shiraz. " Eat and refrefh your-
felf," fays Dahir (the owner of the cave)
" I have fupped already, and cannot eat
with you, being about to depart for Shi-
raz, where I go twice or thrice in a week
to renew my Hock of provifion I always
travel by night for fear of difcovery ; but
as you are now as much in my power as I
at firft was in yours, let mutual confidence
fucceed to mutual fears.'*
H. As I am in your power, and pro-
mife you fidelity, I may afk an expla-
nation of appearances which at prefent
puzzle me.
D. Thofe coffers and bags you fee are
all full of coined gold from our early em-
perors to Schah Abbas the accumulation
of five generations ! They are here de-
pofited
[' 336 ]
pofited as in a place of fafety againft the
rapacity of the Khan of Schiraz or his
Miniflers.
. .;2r. Si?: -f'^-'^v'v fc- .''3" .",:, .
H. They are, perhaps, in fafety, but
are of no ufe if your coffers contained
only earth, it would be of equal value to
riches not ufed.
D. The value of a thing is in propor-
tion to the happinefs it beftows. If my
coffers were only full of earth they would
give me no pleafure, but I receive much
from reflecting that they are full of gold.
H. How you can receive any when
your money is not beftowed, is paft my
conception. Pleafure may be purchafed
as I know to my coft.
D. To your coft? Then I fuppofe
your plan was fpending your money has
it led you to happinefs ?
H.
r 337 1
H. I cannot fay it has my mifery is
extreme !
D. Very well; now, mark the diffe-
rence between us. I have pleafure in
furveying my chefts I count them I
fome times regale my eyes by looking at
my money after which I lock it up, and
reflect, that the means of procuring every
thing are in my power but if I part
with my gold, I then lofe the means and
the pleafure of the reflection.
H. But do you never intend to ufe
your money ?
D. I at prefent ufe it to the beft of
purpofes to give me happinefs -, "but if
I fpent it, I mould have none. How
can you be fo obftinate to continue a dif-
pute, when you confefs that a conduct
contrary to mine has led you to mifery ?
Z Haffan
t 338 ]
Haflan was filent, but not convinced - y
fo deep had the common opinion of the
life of riches funk within his mind
" But, pray," fays he, " may not hap-
pinefs be found in fomething between
both our fyilems ?"
" I do not want," replied Dahir, " to
confine happinefs in one path : all I
contend for is, that I feel it myfelf
you certainly are at liberty to feek hap-
pinefs wherever it may be found. But
what can I do with you? Here you
cannot flay, and if you go you will dif-
cover my treafure fwear to me by the
head of the prophet, that you will come
here no more, and I will take the fame
oath to fend you a camel-load of my gold
it is better to part with fome than lofe
the whole.
* ,~yj ' jf...
The mutual oath was fworn, and at
day-break HafTan returned to the city.
The
[ 339 ]
The gold was fent according to pro-
mife, together with a roll of perfumed
paper, beautifully embellifhed, on which
was written in elegant characters
" Haflan, oppofe not thy particular
opinion to the general fyftem of the mofl
high ! Various are the fituations in life,
and all concur to fulfill the decrees of
eternal wifdom. The ufe of accumulation
is to repair the wajle of prodigality "
22 On
[ 340 }
On a Reform of Parliament.
JriAVING for fome time heard nothing
of the Robin-Hood Society, perhaps it
ceafes to exift ; if fo, the public has to
regret the cheapeft fchool for oratory ever
inftituted. Many a Templar would have
been darned at his firft motion in Weft-
minfter-Hall, but for the opportunity
this fociety afforded for trying the fleadi-
nefs of his face, and the ftrength of his
voice. Many a youth, who has fince fup-
ported or oppofed the Minifter, here firfl
made eflay of his talent for alTertion or
contradiction, and learnt to bear, without
being interrupted, the cheering founds
" Hear him ! hear him /"
Whatever may have become of this
learned feminary of eloquence, there ftill
exifls
[ 341 ]
cxifts (if not deflroyed by a late law)
efhblifhments for the ufeful purpofe of
mending our decayed Confutation, where
a young beginner may fludy what effect
his voice may have on himfelf and audi-
tory. It is rather an hazardous under-
taking for a perfon to fpeak contrary to
the fenfe of his hearers, as he may not,
(tho' ever fo faithful 1 ) get off with flying
colours like Abdiel ; yet, a ram youth,
depending upon liberal treatment, where
liberty was fuppofed to be the firfl prin-
ciple of a popular club, ventured thus to
addrefs his audience
Mr. PRESIDENT,
There are. many focieties, befife this,
in the kingdom, that have for their ob-
ject a Reform of Parliament, and it feems
to be the intention of Miniftry to oppofe
this Reform. If lam not intimidated by
this refpectable affembly of patriots, from
exprefiing and connecting my ideas, I
Z 3 hope
[ 342 ]
.
hope to fhew, that if the focieties attain
their purpofe, no better meafures would
be purfued than at prefent ; and that the
Miniftry might grant their defire without
lofing any of the influence they would
wifh to obtain over the Parliament.
It is confefTed by all parties, that there
are many boroughs reprefented that are
without fufficient confequence, and many
places which ought to fend members, un-
reprefented that the mode of election,
and the electors themielves, are excep-
tionable. If this be granted, then why
not reform ? I have not the leafl objec-
tion fuppofe it done
A Parliament is now aflembled, to
which every place that ought, has fent
members ; and every place that ought
not, has fent none. Not only freemen
and freeholders, but all men, women,
and children, have united in their choice,
without one diflentient voice I think,
Mr.
[ 343 ]
Mr. Prefident, I have made a Houfe of
Commons more perfedt than even the
mod fanguine reformers have yet pro-
jeded. Now, if ever, the fenfe of the
people will be declared in the Houfe, and,
as it ought, govern every thing. ( ' Ap-
plau/es.J But, Sir, not to be loft in a
crowd of five hundred perfons, let us
take one lingle reprefentative, and fee
firft, whether the people have made a
proper choice ; and, fuppofing it made,
whether there is a poflibility of his fpeak-
ing the fenfe of his conftituents.
Let us imagine a town in which are
fome virtuous citizens occupied in their
profeflions, or in literary purfuits. Know-
ing the value of their time, they do not
throw it away, but employ it for fome
honourable or profitable purpofe, by
which they are to become richer, wifer,
or better. Such perfons are of no efti-
mation in the eyes of the vulgar they
have no glitter to attradl their notice.
Z4 But
[ 344 ]
But if there be within their obfervation,
a 'Squire Weftern, who loves his dogs
and his bottle, who confumes his time
in idlenefs and diffipation ; they confider
him as a hearty fellow a jolly dog, and
of courfe has the good-fortune to win
their hearts.
A new Parliament is to be chofen
Where will the people look for a repre-
fentative ? Not in their own town, but
at the refidence of their favourite for,
fay they, this man is of family and for-
tune, therefore he has confequence, and is
above being influenced this may be true,
but ftill he wants a principal qualifica-
tion-^-knowledge of the duty of a fenator.
The utmoft that can be expected is, that
he is too ignorant to do harm.
But admitting his abilities a queftion
comes on in the houfe Shall there be
war or peace !" His private opinion is
for war, and that is alfo the wifli of many
of
[ 345 ]
of his conlHtuents ; but there are many
others, perhaps the greater part, who
are for peace. He votes according to
his own. opinion, by which the majority
of his constituents are, in this cafe, un-
reprefented : (indeed the laft obfervation
is equally true in all reprefentative aflem-
blies). Multiply this fmgle initance by
534, and you have a compleat idea what a
Houie of Commons would be, fochofen.
How it ever could get into the imagi-
nation of a fenfible man, that the people
have a better judgement of integrity or
abilities, than perfons of education and
honour, is difficult to conceive. Suppo-
fing the common-people impofTible to be
influenced, the reverfe of which, is the
fact; what reafon can be affigned why
their choice mould be preferred, where
they are incapable of j udging ? (Murmurs
of dif approbation) I am perfectly fenfible
that the head to contrive would fignify
nothing, unlefs there be hands to exe-
cute,
[ 346 ]
cute, and that the people are thefe hands
fBravo t br&uo ! ) But, if you diilurb the
order, and convert the hands into the
head, your work can neither be contrived
nor executed. If a painter were ever fo
fkilful he could do nothing without the
colourman, nor could the organift with-
out the bellows-blower. But does it
therefore follow that the colourman and
bellows-blower are judges of painting and
mufic ? Is it not a fimilar argument to
fay, that tho* it is from the labour of the
people that we are maintained, that our
taxes are paid, and that the means of our
commerce are produced ; yet, if you take
them from this their proper flation, they
not only lofe their eonfequence, but
would, as well as their fuperiors, foon
lofe their exiftence. In mort, it is for
the intereft of the whole together, and
of feparate individuals as well, (without
which general intereft is but a name) that
the people do not become governors. ,
The old fable of the Belly and Members
has
[ 347 ]
has fomewhat of this application. (Symp-
toms of impatience', but the orator not
daunted, proceeded J.
I cannot fancy that the Houfe of Com-
mons would confift of better perfons,
tho' chofen in proportion to the confe-
quence of the place for Mr. Pitt or Mr.
Fox would be ag honeft and as eloquent
whether they repre Tented a Corniih bo-
rough, or the metropolis. Neither can
I fuppofe that any Houle of Commons is
out of the influence of a minifter who
has fo much to beftow. ( Applaufe . ) If
a man is to be bought, he is as obnox-
ious to a bribe, tho' chofen by the fwi-
nim herd (a term I much approve) as if
fOff\ oj}\ off, down 'with him,
down, down!)
Mr. PRESIDENT,
No difputant can ever wifh for a more
fortunate circumflance than when he can
make
[ 348 ]
make his adverfary to anfwer himfelf
(Off, off.) fPrefident. Hear him!) I
thank you, Sir a certain perfon hoftile
to our principles ; as we all know, com-
pared the people to an herd of fwine
Why? " Becaufe," fays he, " they go
as they are driven." I make ufe of the
fame figure, becaufe, (as every hog-driver
will tell you) they go the contrary way
to that they are driven (Ha, ha, ha! )
therefore let not the allufion offend, but
fuffer me to proceed
It is the nature of man to be dependent
where he cannot rule, and as all cannot
rule, fome muft be dependent. The
minifler is always confidered as the ruler
of a country; and thofe who are not
miniflers, muil fubmit to be governed.
There is nothing got by reiiftance fup-
pofe the man in power turned out, fome
one elfe muft be put in let monarchy
be deftroyed, fome other government
(and a miniflry in courfe) muil be efta-
blifhed
[ 349 ]
blimed iuppofe the moft perfed demo-
cracy ; even then the power of govern-
ment muft be given to a few individuals,
and one of thefe will govern. Whether
the government be in a king, an arifto-
cracy, or democracy ; fr.il! whatever go-
verns muft be abfolute. The French
Directory is as abfolute as the French
Monarchy, with this difference in favour
of the latter that redrefs of grievances
was eafier to be obtained.
If then the Houfe of Commons would
moft probably confift of the fame fort of
people as at prefent (where the change
was not for the worfe) it is fcarce worth
while to be very anxious for another mode
of electing reprefentatives and, from the
fame confideration, the minifter need not
oppofe the wifh of the people for a re-
form (if they really have the wilh) f>r
he would find, as it is found at prefent,
that the Houfe of Commons will always
confift of a few of great abilities, a few
of
[ 35 ]
of fmall abilities, and the bulk',,, of mid-
dling people of fome that will fupport,
of others that will oppofe him, but the
principal part mull always be as they ever
have been, perfons more likely to fol-
low than to lead, and whofe hands I
mean, whofe ears, are not always mut to
reafon."
The lad fentence being pronounced in
rather a fly manner, made the audience
conceive fomething of a joke was in-
tended while, looking at each other,
they were puzzling to find it out ; the
orator defcended foftly from the roflrum,
and, in as few fteps as poflible, happily
efcaped into the ftreet.
[ 35' 3
Authors flwuld not exceed common judge-
ment.
-L O the many obftrudtions in the way
of fame, which I have elfe where re-
marked, may be added another, of as
much force as any, or perhaps all of
them together.
If an author or artift be too clever, he
is as far from notice as if lie were defi-
cient. The fcience of fuccefs, is the
knowledge of what the world is up to.
This Oxford vulgarifm fo well exprerTes
my idea, that I mail ufe it for the pre-
fent purpofe.
A genius who is pofTefied of abilities
to carry his art far beyond the point to
which it has already attained, mufr be
very
[ 35' ]
very careful of (hewing thefe abilities.
As the public is not up to the judging of
them, they cannot diftinguim what is
above their comprehenlion, from what is
beneath their -notice. The common ef-
fed; of this ignorance is, that the author
or artift, in order to live, muft let him-
felf down to the level of the underftand-
ing of thole whom Fate has conftituted
his judges. If he be not impatient for
fame, he ought rather to elevate the pub-
lic judgement to him, fo that it may be
competent to his productions. This con-
duel: he feldom can purfue, and all the
gcod which might be obtained from fu-
perior abilities, is loft by the deficiency
of the public tafte, or the want of refo-
lution (perhaps, want of bread) in the
artift.
This may poffibly account for the
wretched performances which difgrace
our theatres and places of public amufe-
ment. The like reafon has been affigned
why
[ 353 ]
why Shakefpeare fo frequently defcends
below himfelf it may be fo -I mean not
to inlinuate that he had fufficient tafte to
lead him to reje^ abfurdities but if he
had poffefled it, the want 'of tafte in the
public would have fupprefled his efforts
towards corre&nefs.
If you prefect to the public any pro-
duction they are not up to -, perfons who
feel they know nothing, yet have the
credit of knowing a great deal, inflantly
abufe it to mew their judgement ; and
difcover their ingenuity, by pointing out
particular parts for difapprobation not ap-
parent to the common eye. Others, who
have no great reputation in the world,
look vacant and fay nothing : but thofe
who are efteemed wits, turn it to ridi-
cule and noify'wit is more than a match
for lilent truth.
It is this want of knowledge in the
public that is the real caufe why moft
A a original
. [ 354 ]
original geniufes are ftarved. The world
is not malicious, but it cannot be faid to
be interefled in the advancement of ge-
nius. The public is only indifferent in
this affair, which indifference arifes from
ignorance of the value of the thing.
Thefe reflections derive the bad fate of
genius from' a fource not mentioned in
the Thirty Letters. Unfortunate for ori-
ginal merit, that there mould be fuch a
variety of caufes to hinder its advance-
ment !
On
[ 3SS 1
On the joining Poetry with Mufic.
-AN fome late remarks* on a mufical
publication, a wim is exprelTed, that the
alliance of rr^uiic and poetry were dif-
folved. If by this is meant, that they
are two diftinct things, and exifl inde-
pendently of each other, it . cannot be
doubted ; but if it means, that they ought
always to be kept afunder, or that they
are not the ftronger from being properly
united; the aifertion, at leaft, may be
quefUoned.
When we read the Faery-Queene or
Paradife-Loft, it is without the intrufion
of any mufical idea; the poems might
have been written if mulic had never ex-
A a 2 ifted,
* In the Monthly Review.
[ 356 ]
ifted, for the meafure of the verfe, which
is all the analogy that can be pretended,
bears no relation to mufical meafure.
Nay, thofe pieces which have lines of
fuch a length as eaiily coincide with equal
bars, are written and read, without any
reference to mulic.
In like manner, when we hear a fym-
phony, or any compoiition merely in-
flrumental, it is unaccompanied by poe-
tical ideas ; the compofer thought of-no-
thing but his fubjec~t, and the audience
do not affociate with it either verfe or
profe in this fenfe then, there is no na-
tural union between poetry and mufic :
but an artificial union may be formed,
and with increafed effect. After we have
been accuftomed to hear the fame words
fung to a particular air, the latter^ if
heard alone, will weakly excite the fame
kind of pamon as when performed toge-
ther but if the tune had never been ap-
plied to the Words, no fuch paflion would
have
[ 357 J
have been excited, for mufic receives a
determinate meaning from the words,
which alone, it can never attain.* The
long and chorus of " Return O God of
Holts," in the Oratorio of Samfon, is un-
doubtedly a fine piece of devotional mulic,
but it might with equal eafe have been
adapted to the complaints of a lover for
the lofs of his miflrefs. The old pfalm-
tunes, fo expreffive of religious folem-
nity, were formerly in the French court
applied to licentious fongs ; and that pe-
culiarly
* It is true that we find the terms fwnmer and
winter, noon and night, battle and chace, given to
pieces from fome fancied refemblance between
them. The proving that fummer and winter, &c.
have no connexion with mufical expreflion, I fup-
pofe will not be expefted. As marches are per-
formed by military bands, they induce the idea of
foldiers when we hear one we think of the other \
and as French- horns make part of the paraphernalia
of hunting, in pieces where we find a frequent in-
terchange of fifths, fixths, and oftaves, we join
with it the idea of a chace but all this is aflb-
ciation.
Aa 3
t 358 ]
culiarly fine melody appropriated to the
hundredth pfalm, was fung to a popular
love-ditty. At prefent we may obferve
the reverie many of our favourite fong-
tunes, are, by fome religious eftablim-
ments, applied to their hymns; which,
as one of their teachers obferved, is ref-
cuing a good thing out of the clutches of
Satan. Thefe converlions could never
have fucceeded, if poetry had not the
power to determine what idea the mufic
mould exprefs take a yet ftronger in-
flance. Let us imagine ourfelves unac-
quainted with the well-known chorus of
*' For unto us, &c." and that we heard
the inftrumental parts only we mould
think it a fugue upon a pleafing fubjecl:,
without applying it to any particular
meaning, facred or prophane. Conceive
it part of a comic opera nothing is more
eafy than preferving the fame form of
words in a parody, to fuit the purpofe
fuppofe it done, and that there were
common names in place of the fublime
appellations
[ 359 ]
appellations of the original they would
be equally well exprefTed; perhaps in
one part, better; for the fpace between
" called," and the name, is fo rilled up
in the violin parts, as would more pro-
perly introduce the names we have ima-
gined to be fubftituted, than thofe terms
which really follow.
Let us next fuppofe the compofer of
an oratorio applying the fame mufic to
the paffage in the prophet, as at prefent,
and the chorus is heard with its proper
words. We have now a fublime and re-
ligious idea impreffed, to which we think
the mufic admirably adapted, and where
our fenfation is in unifon. Religion and
ridicule differing in the extreme, no
other fubjeds could be found fo proper
for proving the point to be eftablilhed.
By all thefe inftances, it is plain, that
the fame mufic may be applied for oppo-
fite purpofes, and equally well - 3 and al-
A a 4 though
though they alfo evidently fliew that
mulic alone exprefies no determinate fen-
timent, yet that it increafes the expref-
fion, and even meaning of the words,
whenever they are judicioufly conjoined j
for whether the mufic had been only ap-
plied to the pfalms or fongs to the cho-
rufes either for a ferious or comic efFecl: ;
yet it is moft certain that the words and
the mufic are the more expreflive for
each other.
Let mufic and poetry then be kept
diftindr., when it is for their mutual ad-
vantage to be fo ; they have each their
particular, and fufficient confequence, to
fubfift, without collateral fupport; but
all the world has felt that they may be
combined, and receive fo much addi-
tional effect, that we muft oppofe the
flighted wilh to diflblve an union pro-
ductive of fuch exquilite pleafure.
Almanacks,
t 36. ]
Almanacks.
( r \^
A HE ancient Saxons ufed to engrave
" upon certain fquare fticks about a foot
" in length, fhorter or longer as they
" pleafed, the courfes of the moons of
" the whole year, whereby they could
" always certainly tell when the new-
" moons, full-moons, and changes mould
" happen ; and fuch carved fticks they
" called Al-mon-aght, that is to fay,
** All-moon-heed ; to wit, the regard or
" obfervation of all the moons ; and hence
" is derived the name of Almanack."
VERSTEGAN.
This is a clear derivation of the term
Almanack, and fhews the miflake of
thofe who would derive it from the Ara-
;bic, becaufe of the firft fy liable Al.
There
There is In St. John's College, Cam-
bridge, a Saxon Almanack exactly an-
fwering to the above description ; and I
have in my pofTcflion an Almanack made
in the reign of Edward the Third, of
parchment ; not in the ufual form of a
iheet, cr a book, but in feparate pieces,
folded in the hape of a flat flick or lath,
in the Saxon fafliion. It is perfectly fair,
and exhibits the heft fpecinien of the an-
cient numerals I have yet met with.
The method of beginning and dividing
the year, as in our Almanacks, is barba-
rous enough, but might eafily be re-
formed. There are, no doubt, number-
lefs objections to the disturbing a fixed
method of reckoning time; but if a new
form muft be adopted, I would recom-
mend, as a model, the druidical year,
which commenced at the winter folftice,
when the days having gone through their
total increafe and decreafe, begin their
courie anew. Thefe are the bounds
which
which nature dictates for the year, but
what could dictate the modern French
Calendar, is difficult to fay it differs
from the old Almanack in every refpect
for the worfe.
Authors
Authors improperly paired.
HERE is fcarcely a. great genius in
any country that has not a refemblanc.e
found for him in another.
Thus Moliefe is the Terence of France
Spencer is the Ariofto, and Milton the
Taffo of England Prior and La Fontaine
are aflbciated and Corneille is placed
by his countrymen in the fame clafs as
Shakefpeare.
Moliere and Terence pofTefs nothing
in common, but each having written co-
medies they differ in genius, in ftyle,
and in every other refpeci. Spencer and
Arioilo are lefs unlike, but Milton and
TalTo vary in every point, except em-
ploying their genius in epic poetry.
Prior
t 365 ]
Prior and La Fontaine tell ftories with
equal grace,* but the latter has told
mod. Shakefpcare and Corneille, it is
true, writ many plays, which circum-
ilance is all that they have in common.
PafTages may be extracted to mew a
refemblance of authors j but as a diflimi-
litude cannot be proved by the fame
means, I would requeft the reader's at-
tention to the following letter of Cor-
neille to St. Evremond, and let him en-
deavour, by the utmoft effort of his ima-
gination, to conceive it written by one
who
* Thefe lines were written on a blank leaf of
Piior.
Mat Prior (to me 'tis exceedingly plain)
Deferves to be reckoned the Englifh Fontaine,
And Monfieur la Fontaine can never go higher
Than praife to obtain as the French Matthew Prior.
Thus when Elizabeth defir'd
That Melville would acknowledge fairly,
Whether herfelf he raoft admired,
Or his own Sovere gn Lady Mary,
The puzzled Knight his anfwer thus exprelT'J :
In her own country, each is handfomeft.
[ 366 ]
who could poffibly be the fame in any
country, that Shakeipeare is in England.
" Vous m'honorez de votre eilime en
" un terns ou il femble qu'il y ait un
" parti fait pour ne m'en laiffer aucune.
" Vous me confolez glorieufement de la
" delicatefie de notre Siecle, quand vous
" daignez m'attribuer le bon gout de
" 1'antiquite. Je vous avoiie apres cela,
" que je penfe avoir quclque droit de
" traiter de ridicules ces vains trophees
" qu' on etablit fur le debris imaginaire
" des miens : et de regarder avec pitie
" ces opiniatres entetemens qu' on avoit
" pour les anciens Heros refondus a notre
** mode."
*If Corneilie muft have a counterpart in
England, I mould rather feek it in Rowe
than Shakefpeare.
In fad they did not live in the fame
Aate of fociety France was advancing
in
[ 36; J
in refinement and tafte when Ccrneille
lived, but neither one nor the other ex-
iitcd in England in the days of Shakci-
peare. This circumftance alone would
be a prefumption againft their being in
the lame clais of writers.
[ 368 ]
'The Cup-learer. An Indian Tale.
.BEFORE the contention of Schah Je-
han's four fons to determine who mould
poffefs the throne of their father, Indof-
tan was -in perfect peace and tranquillity.
The empire was not then divided into
contending parties, mutually feeking each
other's deflrudion, but the great officers
of the court fought health and amtifement
by hunting the beafls of the forefl.
JeiTom, Emir al Omrah, Cup-bearer
to the Schah, one day purfuing a fwift
Nyl-gau, it led him to the mountains ad-
jacent to Dehli, where the creature elu-
ded the dogs and the hunters. The Emir
difmounting from his horfe, and winding
his way between the rocks, at lad fat
down under the made cf a fp reading pla-
tanus.
J
tanus. Nature exhaufted by fatigue was
recruiting herfelf by fleep moments of
infenfibility, yet delicious on reflection.
Awaking, he found before him an old
man wrapped in a fhawl, who, after his
Salam, exprefled a fear that he had unin-
tentionally difturbed his repofe, and aiked
whether he chofe any refreshment ? A
draught of water would be pleafant to me
faid the Cup-bearer. The other retired,
but foon returned with a bowl filled with
the pureft element, and cool as the rock
from whence it iflued. As the Emir took
it in his hand; " Stay," fays the old-man,
adding three drops from a chryftal vefTel.
After the Emir had drank, he required
the meaning of the addition ? " The
water was drink," faid the other, "but
the drops were medicine. You have fa-
tigued yourfelf by the chace, and fome-
thing was wanting to reftore the ftrength
you had loft by exercife." " Strength
loft by exercife!" exclaimed the Emir,
" I exercife myfelf to procure, not to lofe
B b ftrength."
[ 37 1
flrength," " How ftrength is to be ac-
quired by fatigue, I am yet to learn,"
replied the pld-man; the human ma-
chine, like every other, wears out by
fridtion, and it is preferved by reft."
" I thought," returned the other, " that
all men were agreed in the ufe, and in-
deed, neceffity of exercife." Not all,"
replied the old man ; our " neighbours,
the Perfians, are not fond of unneceflary
motion, and their neighbours, the Turks,
have a proverb, That it is better to ride,
than to walk to fit, than to ftand and
that death is the beft of all. The Fran-
guis, indeed, who of late have forced
themfelves into this country, have that
reftlerTnefs which you confider as effential
to health. Where there is intemperance,
exercife may be neceflaryj and hard la-
bour requires additional nourimment;
but the eafy office of Cup-bearer to the
Schah (for fo your robe declares you)
requires not the labour of exercife to
counteract
counteract any ill effects arifing from your
high flation."
The Emir did not altohether agree to
this, but before he could reply, a peafant
addreffed the old-man, complaining of
tormenting pains in his ftomach, and
begged his afliftance. " Friend," fays
the doctor, " addrefs thyfelf, through the
prophet, to the great difpofer of health;
I can do nothing without fuperior affif-
tance but this is thy earthly remedy
drop thrice from this fmall vial into a
large draught of water, and eat nothing
until to-morrow. Remember three
drops, and no more."
He was fcarce gone when another pa-
tient came with a different complaint;
but the prefcription was the fame.
The Emir wanted not curiofity, but
finding himfelf fufficiently refrefhed,
withheld farther enquiry thanked the
B b 2 doctor,
[ 372 ]
doctor, for fo he appeared to be, and de-
parted.
When Schah Jehan drank ; to do his
Cup-bearer honour, he always prefented
him with the remainder of his draught,
which the Emir took, offering up a
prayer to the prophet for the Emperor's
welfare.
The Schah loved wine, and could bear
much without intoxication : the Emir
being of a contrary temperament, it fre-
quently happened that he had more cups
to finim than were confident with that
clearnefs of understanding that mould ac-
company an addrefs to the holy prophet.
In confequence, large pimples began to
cover his nofe, his legs fwelled, his beard
became fcanty, and the ladies of the Ha-
ram complained that his breath was of-
fenfive. The court phylicians were called
in, who prefcribed all the coftly medi-
cines of the earl; but to no purpofe.
The
[ 373 ]
The fymptoms growing worfe and
worfe, by mere chance the Emir recol-
lected the old-man of the mountain. Too
weak to lit on horfeback, he was con-
veyed to him in a litter. " When I was
here before," faid the Emir, " I was your
gueft, permit me now to be your patient."
" Willingly," faid the other, " put three
drops from this vial into a vefTel of water,
drink it, and nothing elfe, for the reft of
the day." " Impomble," replied the
other, " I muft often take the cup of
honour from the hand of my bountiful
matter." " Then," pronounced the
phyfician, " you will take the cup of
death the leaft particle of heterogeneous
mixture with my medicine inftantly be-
comes fatal !"
As the Schah loved the Emir better
than his other attendant flaves, he per-
mitted the favourite to be abfent for a
feafon; conceiving that the talifman of
the fage (for fuch he thought the doc-
B b 3 tor's
[ 374 ]
tor's three drops to be) required the
prefence of the patient.
The dodor continuing the fame pre-
fcription, and the patient his prompt
obedience- 'many days had not elapfed,
before the "health of the Emir was in all
refpe&s much improved. The carbun-
cles had left his nofe, his beard increafed,
his legs decreafed, and his breath no
. , Jonger poifoned the atmofphere. " Yet,
" a little while," faid the learned phy-
fician, " and the angel of health may
deign to take up his abode witn you, and
difmifs the angel of deathvtWearch for
other victims." N*<
Many people came from the adjacent
country feeking the doctor's advice, which
was always given in the fame words, with
the fame medicine; and with fuch great
fuccefs, that the phyficians of the pro-
vince loft their reputation and practice.
"Of
[ 375 1
" Of what can thefe precious drops
confift?" revolved the Emir, equally ad-
miring the Simplicity and efficacy of the
prefcription. Tho' unable to penetrate
the myftery, yet finding that he was quite
recovered, and longing to prefent him-
felf to his matter, and indeed to his mif-
treiles, he took a grateful leave of the
doctor, who, refufing all reward, difmilTed
his patient by faying " My medicine
(under the power in whofe hands are
health and ficknefs) has performed its
accuftomed efFedts ; but as fome time
muft elapfe before the narrow pores of
the ikin can difcharge what yet remains
of it in your conftitution, the cup of ho-
nour muft be refufed, unlefs you wilh to
make another vifit to your doctor.
A horfe richly caparifoned carried the
Emir to Dehli, attended by troops of
fervants rejoicing in his health.
B b 4. When
[ 376 ]
When he kifled the ground before the
feet of Schah Jehan, he was at firft re-
ceived as one unknown; the efficacious
medicine having made him a new man.
"A cup of wine !" faid the Schah,
" let the great phyfician know, who it
is that wifhes him a long enjoyment for
himfelf of the bleffing he procures for
others. Give him a robe of honour, and
let me fee and reward the fage who pof-
fefles the fource of health!" Two mef-
fengers departed with fpeed to carry the
words and robe to the old man of the
mountain.
When the Schah had drank, he gra-
cioufly prefented the remaining wine to
his reftored Cup-bearer; who, taking
the veffel, attempted thrice to bear it to
his lips but in vain! the doctor's in-
junction at parting being ftill frem in his
remembrance and, not to drink, was
lofs of his high office; perhaps, of life.
The
[ 377 ]
The Schah perceiving that his cup was'
rejected, gave way to wrath " Take
that Have from my prefence," he ex-
claimed, and as he refufes ivine from the
hand of his matter, let water be his only
beverage Begone !"
The meflengers to the mountain were
not long in fpeeding acrofs the plain of
Dehli; they haftily inverted the doctor
with his Kalaat, and brought him into the
prefence of the Emperor. " Approach,"
faid the Schah, " relate by what good
fortune thou art poflerTed of that grand
elixir which the fages of the eaft and
weft have been fo long endeavouring to
obtain." " Thy Have," replied the doc-
tor, "has no fuch pofieflion." "Is it a
talifman, then?" faid the Schah "Nor
talifman have I," continued the old man;
*' If thou commandeft me to difclofe my
fecret thy flave muft obey but, once
difclofed, the virtue of the medicine
ceafes." " Thou doft but more and
more
[ 373 ]
more inflame my curiofity," uttered the
Schah with impatience-** It becomes
my duty to gratify it," humbly replied
the doctor " In my early youth I re-
marked th9 effects of imagination on the
human mind nothing is too it-range for
the imagination to conceive, and no effect
too great for it to produce by imagination
we almoft become the thing we wifh to be.
This difcovery is open to all, and all may
make the fame ufe of it as myfelf. Much
later in life I difcovered intemperance to
be the origin of difeafe, and the haftener
of death. Of this truth experience only
brings a belief, we having long fixed ha-
bit, the appetite for pleafure> and preju-
dice, to oppofe and vanquifh. As the
works of nature are all-perfect, it is by
acting contrary to her laws that we in-
duce imperfection and difeafe; and no-
thing but the propenlity of nature to re-
cover, and reft in the centre from which
we have forced her, can ever reftore us
to our priftine perfection and health. If
there
[ 379 ]
there are medicines which can amft this
propenfity, let us ufe them; but how
can we be certain that we do not retard,
inftead of afllft, operations, the caufes of
which are beyond our weak intellects t
inveftkate ?"
" But, the Three drops" interrupted
the Schah; (for all fovereigns hate infor-
mation, tho' they aik it, and fcarcely
admit a reply to their own queftions.)
" Thefe," anfwered the doctor, " come
under the head of imagination."
" Tell me the iecret of the Three
drops," faid the Schah, (beginning to
lofe his temper) " and keep all the reft
to yourfelf."
" I was haftening to convince the Em-
peror," meekly replied the old-man,
" that I poflefs neither medical fecret nor
talifman
[ 38 ]
talifman but thy flave ceafes to fpeak, as
his words find no favour before thee"
" Proceed," faid the Schah
" When a patient comes to me," con-
tinued the doctor, " I confider him as
having fuffered, by forcing nature from
her feat. If we knew what would re-
llore her firft pofition, or knowing the
medicine how to make the applica-
tion, it would be well but as we do
not, I leave the work to her own pow-
erful efforts . Intemperance being moft
probably the caufe of the diforder, abfti-
nence is moft likely to be the cure. But
this is too fimple a remedy: there rnufl
be fomething to adl on the imagination.
My Three drops do this office, which are
the fame fluid as that which receives
them 'water but they have an air of
myftery, and appear in the form of a pow-
erful medicine, whofe quantity mufl not
be miftaken. To prevent my patient re-
lapfing
lapfing into the intemperance which pro-
duced his complaint, and muft retard his
cure; I enjoin ftricl: abflinence, that the
effect of the medicine may not be coun-
teracted. But the whole, means no more,
than removing the effect by deftroying
the caufe, and leaving nature at liberty
to do a work which cannot fafely be
trufled in other hands."
" What !" fays the Schah, with con-
tempt, " are thy fo-much-famed Three
drops, nothing but water ?"
" If they have fame," refpedfully re-
plied the doctor, " let us fuppofe they
deferve it I told you, Sir, that the dif-
covery once made, my art was at an
end."-
" So," faid the Schah, with apparent
good-humour, " inftead of puniihing the
Cup-bearer, I have been his phyfician,
and ordered him the invaluable medicine
of
of the Three drops ! Bring him again to
my prefence, and it mall not be my fault
if ever again he has occaiion to vifit the
old man of the mountain."
On
On Beauty,
IVlUCH has been written upon the
principle of beautiful forms, but nothing
feems to have been determined, unlefs
for European Beauty. If the Afiatic ar-
tifts have treated this fubject, their prin-
ciple, as we may judge from their tafte
and practice, muft be very different from
ours ; whence we may conclude that there
is no principle of general Beauty, but as
Prior fays,
<f 'Tis refted in the Lover's fancy."
This confideration mould not prevent
us from ftudying our own principle of
beautiful forms, as it is the foundation of
the ornamental part of fculpture, paint-
ing, and architecture, and of the propor-
tion and features of the human figure.
We
[ 384 ]
We feem to have implicitly adopted
Grecian ideas, from whence we may ac-
count for the prevalence of the antique
profile in modern pictures; by which,
if the fubjects are from our own hiftory,
we have the incoherent mixture of an-
cient faces exprefTmg modern characters,
and Greeks performing the parts of Eng-
lilhrnen. But from whence did the
Greeks take their ftraight profile ? Not
from nature, for it has every appearance
of artifice, although it exifts in a few
faces which muft poflefs other qualifica-
tions to be thought beautiful. Profeffor
Camper, in his Book upon the different
Forms of the Human Cranium, feems to
have traced this ftyle efface to its fource.*
The projection of the mouth and flat
nofe marks that kind of face which is
neareit allied to brutality. There is but
one
* In what follows, his ideas and mine are fo
blended, that I cannot pretend to feparate them.
[ 385 ]
one degree between a dog monkey
ape ouran-outang kalmuc and negro.
From the laft to the European face are
many degrees,* which might be fup-
plied by a general acquaintance with the
human
* The time feems approaching when the Euro-
pean and African face will be more nearly of the
fame character ; and the European and Indian fea-
tures are alfo blending apace. There is fcarce a
fchool for either fex in the kingdom, in which are
not to be found many children of the mixed race
belonging to opulent fathers fome of thefe are
born to great fortunes, or may naturally expe&
them : they marry with perfons of this country, and
communicate their fhape and colour to their future
families ; by degrees, perfeftly deftroying the Englifh
form, feature, and complexion, which have been
the envy and admiration of the European world.
Perhaps the Spanim phrafe of " Old Chriftian," to
diftinguith a perfon not fprung from Moorim con-
neftions, may have in this country fome equiva-
lent to exprefs a family untainted with African or
Indian mixture. I mean no difrefpeft to my fable
brethren, but as we were intended by nature to be
feparate, I am forry that commerce has been the
means of uniting us to our mutual difadvantage.
Cc
[ 326 ]
human fpccies between the beft modern
feces and the antique are ftill many gra-
dations,
It is highly ; that the Greeks
obferved the near refemblance between
the loweftclafs of human faces and mon-
keys, and, in "coniequence, conceived
Beauty to be far removed from it. As
the lower part of the brutal face pro-
jecled, the human face fublime Ihould be
deprefled in that part; and, as in the
former there was a delcent from the fore-
head to the nofe, in the latter it mould
be perpendicular. J As a final! fpace be-
tween the eyes refembles an ape, there-
fore, to look like a man, they made the
diilance wide. As a great breadth of
cranium at the eyes ending above in a
narrow forehead, and below in a peaked
chin, marked the face of a favage, the
: Xor was this always thought fufikient, for to
remove as far as poffible from Ac projecting mouth,
the head (as in the Antinons) is made to recline.
Greeks gave a fquarenefs of forehead,
and i breadth of face below, to exprefs
dignity of character.
Thefe principles clearly account for
the Grecian face ; but as all extravagance
is bad, the antique cail of features, to im-
partial eyes, is not the mod beautiful,
becaufe it is beyond the mark.
Cc 2
[ 388 ]
An Odd Character.
W HEN we are at peace with the
world, and the world is at peace with us,
the fummer ramblers of England vifk
the Continent, and go through France to
Switzerland ; where, without any reliih
of the peculiar circumftances of the coun-
try, they fpend their time moft dolefully.
At their return, they triumph over the
ignorance of thofe who never flrayed
from home, and afiure them of the infi-
nite pleafure they have had from their
tour.
But when war confines us within our
own ifland, we go as far as we can -, that
is, to the fea-coafl, which muft ierve in-
{lead of going farther.
All
[ 389 ]
All well-frequented watering places
offer to the attentive obferver a great va-
riety of characters, more or lefs amufmg.
Some few really come for health, more
for pleafure, but with mofl the motive is
idlenefs perfons to whom not only the
day, but every hour is much too long
perfons, as Ranger in the play expreffes
it, " who had rather go to the Devil than
flay at home/' Sometimes we meet with
an agreeable exception, and fometimes
with an oddity.
A week's refidence at Weymouth gave
me an opportunity of converting with a
fingular character. We had often met
at the coffee-houfe at the library, and
had made fome little pro^refs towards an.
acquaintance ; when, without any pro-
vocation on my part, he feemed rather to
mun, than to feek me. However, we
were accidentally imprifoned in the Ca-
mtra-Obicura, and could not well avoid
going down tlie hill in company togccner,
Cc 3 when
[ 39 ]
when he expreHed himfelf nearly in this
manner. " I am afraid you think me
fomething worfe than an odd fellow."
To which, receiving no reply he conti-
nued <c I confefs the apparent abfurdity
of my way of life. It is upon a principle
which differs fo much from common
cuftom, that it lies perfectly open to at-
tacks which I ihall not even attempt to
repel I am content to be thought inca-
pable of defending myfelf, and if non-
reiiftance in one party can communicate
any honour to the other, my adverfary
may enjoy all the triumph of fuch a vic-
tory my fyilem is my own, and made
for myfelf alone.
" In my early days I was not long in
^bferving, that by far the greateft part of
life's troubles were not upon our own ac-
count, but that of others that it was in
the pov/er of one perfon to make a hun-
dred miferable, by their partaking of his
perfonal afflictions 5 but that he could
make
[ 39i ]
make but one happy, by partaking of his
perfonal pleafures this is undoubtedly a
lofing trade, but yet this is the commerce
of fociety. A man of a philanthropic
temper becomes acquainted with thofe
about him ; his acquaintance with fome
produces frumdiliip, and his friendships
produce forrow. Every trouble of mind,
or difeafe, of your friends, affe&s you :
it is true you alfo participate their plea-
fures, as far as they can be communi-
cated ; but thefe are not in equal pro-
portions.
" Should your friend increafe his pof-
feffions, you are not the richer -, but if .he
is in want, you are the poorer if he be
in health, as it is a thing in courie, you
do not rejoice ; but if he is iick, you
mourn if he pofTefles an agreeable wife,
you have none of his pleaiure ; but if he
lofes her, his pain is poured inco your
boibm,
C c 4 Suppofe
[ 392 ]
" Suppofe life pafTes without any exer-
tions of friendship, but merely in a belief,
that if they were required they would be
made I then fee my friend advance in
years he lofes his perfon and ftrength
by degrees death fets his mark upon
him, and at lail claims him for his own.
What I fee in him, he fees in me ; and
all thofe fenfations are multiplied accord-
ing to the number of our intimate con-
nections,
" Fully fenfible of this truth, I very early
in life determined to have no friend at all.
To accomplish this intention, my plan
has been to ihift my refidence from place
to place ; to have many acquaintance, but
rio friends. The common fcenes cf public
amufement I vifit occafionally, and Ibme-
times bury myfelf in London. Ifl wim
to improve, I retire ; if to amufe myfelf,
I join in fuch accidental parties as occur,
and like the butterfly, play among the
flowers, but fix on none. If an ac-
quaintance
[ 393 ]
quaintance with an agreeable peribn im-
proves too fail, and I begin to feel fome-
thing like an attachment, I take it as a
hint for fhifting my quarters, and decamp
before the fetter is fattened. To confefs
the truth, I more than fufpect that I
have been too long acquainted with you :
I ihall quit this place immediately, left
to-morrow I ihould feel myfelf your
friend."
He then redoubled his pace, as if wil-
ling to avoid my reply. I indulged him
in his wiih, and was not forry to be ex-
cufed from continuing a converfation I
could not fupport with any other than
common arguments ; which leldom have
any effect upon thofe who fo boldly differ
from principles long eilablifhed, and fup-
pofed to be true.
Something
[ 394 ]
Something bey and us, neceffary.
j
1 COULD move this globe, faid Ar-
chimedes, if I had another whereon to
fix my lever." Hume ihrewdly ob-
ferves, that priefts having found, what
Archimedes wanted, another world to
reft on, it is no wonder they move this
at their pleafure.
In all purfuits, whether of the artift,
moralift, or the divine, it is neceffary to
have fome thing beyond our /elves on which
we are to fix - y or elle, to ufe the above
figure, our machinery is of no eitect.
A painter has, or ought to have, fome-
thing in his imagination beyond the im-
med a^e objects of' his attention. The
t learches for ih&ferfetf good, and
the
C 395 ]
the : re!igionift directs all his hopes to a
life hereafter.
x
If we could demonftrate to the artift,
the moral philofopher, and the chriftian,
that they are in purfuit of a ihadow that
tli/ere is no beau ideal no perfect good
and that this life is the *' Be-all and End-
all," we mould do thefe people irrepa-
rable damage for this world can never
be moved, unlefs there is another whereon
to fix the lever.
Should it be afked, What are thofc
points of perfection to which man afpires ?
It may be anfwered, That, perhaps, they
do not exiil at all. But as fuch a reply-
would difcourage a meritorious purfuit,
let us rather lay, that great effects are not
produced by exact definitions, or by per-
fectly knowing the things to which we
afpire. The fublime is always painted
by a broad pencil. The poet who de-
fcribes
[ 396 ]
icribes minutely, is not great diftinft
defcription is for inferior purpofes.
" I favv a fmith ftand on his hammer, thus
With open mouth {wallowing a taylor's news."
The expreffion for the fubjecl: is admi-
rable, but no one would call it fublime>
When Milton, in his Defcription of
Satan, fays that
" On his creft fat horror plum'd"
No particular idea is prefented, for what
is the form of horror ? Juft what your
imagination chufes to make it fome ter-
rible thing, but what, we know not;
and becaufe we know it not, our ideas
expand until we create a grand, tho' in-
diftind: image, and feel its fublimity.
The height of a mountain envei loped
with clouds, rifes upon the imagination,
becaufe its top is concealed.
This
[ 397 J
This principle is equally efficacious on
religious fubjels.
When we are told in general terms
that the future life is to be happy or mi-
ferable beyond conception ; there is fome-
th'ing placed out of our reach, which is
the ideal point but if we defcend to
particulars, and figure, as we fee in pic-
tures of the Laft Judgement, Angels
playing on harps, and Devils brandilhing
pitch-forks -, not even Michael Angelo's
genius could prevent the fubject from
being ridiculous. Perhaps it is the ef-
fecl: of this principle that induces me to
think meanly of the ceremonies of the
Roman Church, which appear to me
minute, and particular therefore not
fublime.
It has been juftly remarked, that the
French, by confidering Popery and Chrif-
tianity as the fame, have made the latter
fuffer for the faults of the former. The
late
[ 398 J
late revolution feems to have taken from
the French in every refpedl " the other
world on which to fix the lever." Their
exhibition of a real woman to be wor-
fhipped under the character of the God-
defs of Liberty, is lefs ideal than when,
in their Popilh days, they reprefented the
Deity under a corporeal form in both
they offended true tafte as much as true
religion, for from the above principle the
object of our devotion mould not be feen,
but conceived.
By the definition of royalty there is
no court from which we are to take the
beau ideal of politenefs. - That of France
had been long in porTeffion of the privi-
lege of fetting fafhions for the reft of
Europe. Even the London newfpapers
(notwithstanding the brilliancy of our
own court) once a month at leaft, gave
us a detail of the modes of Paris; but
fmce there has been no King or Queen
to confider as the points above us, they
fee
[ 399 ]
fee the abfurdity of taking a fafhion from
Citizens* or their wives. Thefe au-
guft perfonages, though followed by all
the Mother Red-caps in the Republic, can
hardly be offered as models to be copied
by the Dukes and DucheiTes of England.
By fixing the attention of the people
upon the mean vulgar tunes of Ca ira,
and the Carmagnole March, J there is an
end
* When this euay was written, the names of
two perfons were inferted, who foon after loil their
heads two others were added, who met with the
fame fate I will mention no more, but leave it to
the reader to fill up the blanks with " the poor
players of the prefent hour," as they pafs in fuc-
effion.
J Maior Tench, in the account of his imprifon-
ment in France, has the following paffages : " I
went upon Eafter Sunday to the Cathedral in the
moft folemn part of die fervice, the Marfeillois
Hymri was heard from the organ : that war-whoop
to whofe found the bands of regicides who attacked
their fovereign in his palace marched ; and which,
during the laft three years, has been the watch-
word
end of all attempts to the mufical fub-
lime.-f- Poetry is degenerated into jaco-
bine ballads; and painting, having loft
its grand and religious fubjects, does not
afpire beyond the death of a Marat or
Pe]letier.
By
word of violence, rapine, and murder. I was once
carelefslv humming at the fire-fide the Carmagnole,
when a Lady fuddenly interrupting' me, exclaimed
" For God's fake ceafe that hateful tune ! It
brings to my remembrance nothing but maflacres
and guillotines." Again " The national tafte has
fuffered equal degradation. The Dramas of Racine,
and the Odes and Epiftles of Boileau, are fupplanted
by crude declamatory produ&ions, to which the
revolutionary fpirit has given birth."
f We may pronounce, from experience, on the
effeft of having our ears dinned by the eternal re-
petition of fome popular tune, which is to fuper-
cede all other mufic, let its merit be ever fo great.
Formerly the mufical performances at the Theatres
were interrupted by Roajl-becf. Of late, Roaft-beef
has been abandoned, and given place to that de-
vout and deleftable canticle God fave the King;
which we muft fing over and over again, by way
of a loyal Engliih reply to French Republican dit-
ties. Would that France were a Monarchy again L
By their abolition of Chriftianity (what-
ever opinion they may entertain of its
truth) one great fource of the fublime in
mufic, painting, morality, and religion,
is utterly deftroyed.
For the reft of the world it is a me-
lancholy confideration, that the ftudies of
fo great and enlightened a country as
France mould be wrongly directed. This
unfortunate circumftance may tend to the
deftru&ion of thofe arts and fciences
which have coft us fo much trouble and
ftudy to acquire.
When the above obfervations were
made, the French in two years had be-
come in manners a new people, and al-
tered, in moil refpe&s, very much for
the worfe : perhaps, before thefe remarks
will be read, another alteration may take
place
Dd
place* it will give the writer much
pleafure if every circumftance he has
mentioned may accord only with the pre-
fen{ moment.
* " En terns d'orage, le Ciel change a tout mo-
ment : et le tableau, qu'on en a fait, n'a ete vrai,
qu'un inftant."
Influence
Influence of Appellations*
is there in a name," fays
Juliet, " that which we call a rofe, by
any other name would fmell as fweet."
No doubt, if the rofe had not that appel-
lation, its fweetnefs would fpeak for it-
felf -, but if diftinguimed by a word to
which we had previoufly attached fome
difagreeable meaning, the affociation of
ideas might produce a fenfation to the
difadvantage even of this lovely flower.
Montaigne, and Sterne (his imitator)
think that a man's fuccefs in life may
depend on his name , which is not alto-
gether fo fanciful how many owe their
fortune to their being called after a god-
fcther?
D d 2 There
[ 44 1
There are fome inftances of our conti-
nuing in a conftant ftate of mifconducl,
from a mifapplication of names, or by
applying the ufual meaning of a term to
a purpofe with which it is totally difcon-
nefted. Thus, when Boniface is told,
" that his ale is confounded ftrong," he
replies, " how elfe mould we be ftrong
that drink it ?" When the common peo-
ple are depreffed, they take a dram be-
caufe it is called fpirit ; they then con-
ceive they have got what they wanted,
and muft of courfe be merry. Had it
not been for the unfortunate epithet of
Jlfong, applied to beer, and the term
fpirit being given to brandy, people would
never have guefTed that ale gave them
ftrength, or brandy created fpirits. It is
an unfortunate circumftance that brandy
is called alfo aqua- vitas, and eau-de-vie,
by which it has proved to nations, who
never heard of the Englifh term, fpirit,
to be aqua-mortis and eau-de-mort. This
liquid having a name fo contrary to its
real
real efFect, has been, and will continue
to be, the caufe of more deftrudtion than
the fword or the peftilence.
The common diforder, a cold, by being
fo named, has been the death of thou-
fands being called a cold, people con-
ceive it mould be oppofed by heat, and
heat muft neceffarily expel cold. By
acling upon this principle, a flight fever
becomes dangerous, and what the ufual
efforts of nature would have cured in a
few days, is now changed to a diforder
frequently beyond the reach of medicine.
1 ' ^T
The word Tax is deteftable, although
the thing be unavoidable ; it is therefore
prudent in a minifter to prevent (if pof-
fible) its being ever pronounced. He
does prevent it, by concealing the tax in
the price of the commodity inftead of
keeping it diftincl: Thus, if we buy a
pair of fhoes, and the tax is included in
the coft, we only buy the moes dear, we
da-
[ 4=6 ]
do not pay a tax ; but if we gave half the
price for the fhoes, .and paid, feparately,
a tax, the fifth part of that included in
the fhoes, the burthen would be thought
intolerable. A two-lhilling flamp being
feparated from the price of the hat, is a:
tax that is felt ; but the five-fhilling tax
included in the fhoes is unnoticed. We
are content to buy dear, but much dif-
pleafed at being taxed let the rofe have
its perfume, but call it by another name.
The word excife is rather worfe than
tax, and an excifeman the worft of all
tax-gatherers. The late Duke of Bed-
ford had nearly loft his life at Exeter,
by iimply giving his vote for making a
commodity fubject to the excife had it
been only taxed, he might have pafTed to
Taviftoke unmolefted.
When the people of Europe firft began
to cultivate the lands in the Weft-Indies,
they foon experienced that the climate
was
[ 47 ]
was too hot for hard workthey had re-
courfe to Africa for labourers, in which
they did no more on the weftern coaft,
than had been done in the eaftern part of
that vaft continent, from the earlieft an-
tiquity. The Have-trade on the more
of the Red-fea, as Bruce informs us, takes
off thoufands of negroes for Arabia, Per-
fia, and India - y fo that the inhabitants of
Africa feem to be doomed to labour, that
the reft of the world may live in luxury.
In thofe days of philanthropy* when
prifons muft be palaces, when the rich
muft be poor, the poor rich, and all men
and things reduced to a happy equality
who can bear the thought of eating the
produce of a plant which is watered with
the tears and blood of its miferable culti-
vators ? This might be made a moft pa-
thetic pidture, but does it not owe all its
effecl: to the wordjlave ? Suppofe at iirft
the planters had called thefe labourers
black fervants, would any perfon have
D d 4 objected
[ 48 I
objected to their being brought from
Africa, (where, in fad:, they are in the
moft vile of all fituations) and exalted
from flaves to fervants ?
My intention is not to enter upon a
fubjedt which has of late employed fo
many writers, but merely to mew the
effec> of a ivord independently of the
thing to which it is applied.
No army or navy can pombly exifl
without fubordination or difcipline but,
if living under an abfolute government
conftitutes ilavery, what flaves are more
compleatly fo than foldiers and failors ?*
However, as the difgraceful term is not
beftowed on them, they feel that they
are in the full enjoyment of all the rights
and privileges of free-born Englimmen.
* This being written many years fince, oughtiiot
to be applied to late events.
Amiihomer, we fee, is of confequence
in the common affairs of life, as well as
in law, withi this difference to its difad-
vantage, that it cannot fo eafily be cor-
rected ; but we mufl fubmit to its effects,
without hope of redrefs, until fomething
mail be found fufficient to fubdue the
force of cuftorn long-eflablifhed.
On
On Executions.
betters are worfe than me/'
fays Betty in Jofeph Andrews. To adopt
the fame paradoxical flyle, it may be faid,
that fome of our improvements are for
our difadvantage.
Mr. Howard has been the cccafion of
many alterations for the worfe, under an
idea of remedying grievances upon phi-
lanthropic principles.
When a man by committing a crime
has incurred the penalty of the law, it is
neceffary that he mould be kept in fafe
cnflody until he is tried or puniilied
but if his prifon be a large magnificent
building (notwithstanding the mifery of
the cells) he confiders himfelf as a Being
of
r 4" i
of confequence moft probably the gran-
deur of the place takes from him all hu-
miliating thoughts which lead to repen-
tance.
If I have fome objections to our im-
provements of prifons, I have more to
the improvements in the mode of exe-
cutions.
Formerly, a culprit walked to the
gallows, where he fpent an hour in pray-
ing and finging a penitential pfalm (which
produces a great effect upon the fpectators)
after which, he was thrown off a ladder,
and left hanging, according to the vulgar
phrafe, like a dog.
The firft improvement was conveying
condemned prifoners in a cart this lef-
fened the ignominy of the execution, but
encreafed the horror of the previous cir-
cumftances, as a cart is an ignoble car-
riage, and the perfons of the criminals
were
[ 412 j
were more expofed, and marked but as
objects of attention but it had one bad
conlequence the cart (by thofe who
could pay for it) was frequently changed
&r a coach and to ride in a coach is a
defirable thing in the idea of the common
people. -
The place of execution for London was
once two miles out of town by degrees,
the houfes reached it, and the people
who lived in them not relifhing fuch ex-
hibitions as well as the common people,
got the place changed for the prifon door
this -brought on the dropping platform.
The effect of executions, as examples, is
much diminimed by thefe improvements.
The long proceffion and difgraceful ex-
pofure are loft, and inftead of being
" hanged like a dog," as was once the
cafe, it is now dying like a gentleman.
Let me digrefs a moment from my
prefent fubject, to cenfure the mode of
executions
I 4'3 1
executions in Italy and Spain, as I find it
related in books of travels. In Rome,
when a man is hanged, the executioner
fits upon his moulders in Spain he does
the fame, with the addition (as I am in-
formed) of running into the criminal's
body long fpurs, which he wears at his
heels. This does not produce the elfcct
of a criminal fuffering the penalty of the
law, but of a man murdered in public for
the entertainment of the rabble, efpe-
cially when they add to it the twirling
round of the body, as is the cuftom in
fome places.
Perhaps there are few natural deaths
but are more painful than hanging no
one would wifh to add to its pains what-
ever they are, but it is furely unwife to
take from the apparatus that which a ids
fo much to the efted: produced upon the
fpe&ators. Thefe reflections were occa-
fiqned by the' following incident.
Twa
[ 4H ]
Two robbers had been taken up in the
country confined in the county gaol
(before Mr. Howard's improvements)
tried, and condemned to be hanged.
Some circumftance occurred on their trial
which made it neceflary for a turnkey of
Newgate to viiit them in the country
prifon. He was afked, <( How he found
them, and what was their behaviour?"
" As low as the Devil," he replied, " but
there is no one can blame them they
don't like being in a fhabby country
prifon if they were with us in Newgate,
and were to be hanged at ou.r Drop, I'd
be d d if they'd care a farthing."
4 proper Length necejjary for Mufical and
Literary Productions.
X\LL productions of art which cannot,
like painting and ftatuary, produce an
inftant efFedt, ought to be of that dura-
tion as neither to fatigue the attention
by length, nor prevent the neceffary im-
prefiion on the mind for want of it f
If this principle had ever been fixed as
neceflary to produce effect, fo many com-
pofitions in mufic and literature would
not have failed in giving that pleafure to
the fenfe or imagination, which their ex-
cellence muft otherwife have commanded.
But fo far from any fuch principle being
fixed, it does not feem to have occurred
that there is any reafon for its exiftence.
If
If the Iliad had not been longer than
one of its books, it would certainly have
been too fhort ; and there are few perfons,
, if they would be hone/I, but feel twenty-
four books much too long. Virgil, fays
Addifon, by comprizing his Poern in
twelve books, pretended but to half the
merit of the Iliad. What his pretenfions
were cannot now be known, but if his
plan were compleated in the prefent
length of the ./Eneid, it muft have dimi-
nifhed its effect to have made it longer.
The Oratorio of Judas Maccabeus pof-
feiTes fome of the finefl fpecimens of
Handel's compositions. The fong " Fa-
ther of Heaven" has no other fault than
being a little too long. I remember it
encored twice, and a third encore at-
tempted. The effect of this repetition,
on my fenfations, was exceedingly dif-
trefsful, and produced a mental furfeit,
which, like that of the ftomach, took
much time to remove.
All
[ 417.3
All German compofers have too many
movements in their fymphonies, and
make their movements too long. Croft's
Anthems merit the fame cenfure. Each
ad: of an Opera or Oratorio, is at leaft one
third too long. Any fong, except the
old ballad (where the fame air is re-
peated) mould confift but of three verfes,
which, in general, is the beft number.
An air, with variations, muft have pecu-
liar merit to admit of more than fix. I
once heard a German lutenifl play an air of
this fort with four and twenty variations,
every ftrain of which he inoft punctually
repeated ! In the performances of mufic,
long cadences, long fwells, and long
makes, are moft diftrefling things to the
afflicted audience for afflicted they are,
notwithftanding they applaud fo loudly.*
Whoever few a fet of books of many
volumes without a fenfation of difgufl?
E e Tho'
* See Obfervations on the State of Mufic in
London in 1790.
;, ^ [ 418 ]
Tho' I never beheld the " dreadful front"
of De Lyra, yet I have feen fo many
others in great libraries, as to make one
cry out with the Hoft in Jofeph An-
drews, " What can they all be about ?"
If the noble author of the reign of
Henry the "Second had reduced his book,
half, or rather, two thirds, it would ilill
have contained all we wifh to know about
the fubjedl and great obligations would
the world have had to Mr. Gibbons, if
the gaudy flowers in his extenfive garden
had never vegetated, for alas ! " We
better like a field."
If a preacher were to end with merely
giving his text, or after pronouncing a
few fentences, we mould think he had
mounted the pulpit for nothing -, but
good muft be his dodlrine, and great muft
be his powers, if we wifh him to remain,
in it the ufual length of a long fermon.
No
No perfon in Parliament, to be heard
with pleafure and attention, fho'-ilJ. in
fpeaking exceed an hour he may be af-
fured that a longer fpeech is only liflened
to hy Jupiter, who, ,ve are told, exerts
perpetual watchfulnefs*
Half a minute is very long for a fpeech
in company extend it much farther, the
looks of our audience ihew that they
think us profing.
I might much encreafe thefe initances*
tmt they are fuiiicient to eilablim my po-
fition " That a due length is neceilary
to produce good eftecl."
Ee 2 Aboulhamed
[ 420 ]
Aboulhamed and the Brahmin.
AlOULHAMED was the only fon of
a wealthy merchant at Ormus, and on
his father's death pofleffed all his treafure.
Everything that riches could beflow was
within his power; but he found that
there were fome bleffings which riches
could not procure long-life was not to
be purchaied ; perhaps, for that very
reafon he earneftly wifhed for it.
This idea became ftrongly imprefled
upon his mind; it was his laft thought
at going to reft, and the fir ft when he
awoke.
When once the fpirits are ftrongly
moved, they continue the agitation with-
out a freih effort j it was not then unna-
tural
[ 421 J
tural that his dreams mould be fometimes
on the fubjedt which had engaged his
waking thoughts. One of thefe dreams
appeared to him a revelation in vifion of
what he fo earneftly wilhed to obtain
his guardian Angel bade him depart for-
Benares, where he mould find in the
obfervatory, a Brahmin fitting near the
great quadrant, who would inform him
how to lengthen life.
His imagination dwelt with fo much
pleafure on this injunction, that he con-
ceived it to be repeated, and that to delay
his voyage would be criminal. After the
ufual time he arrived fafely at Benares,
and took the earlieft opportunity of vi-
fiting the obfervatory.
Upon actually finding a Brahmin in
the place as he had feen him in his dream,
Aboulhamed accofted him with a confi-
dence founded on the hope of the Brah-
min being fent there to meet him. " Ve-
Ee 3 nerable
[ 4" ]
nerable fage," fays he, " need I acquaint
you with the caufe which brought me to
Benares?" " It is needleis," replied the
Brahmin ft Why doft thou defire long-
life ? Is it to perfect thyielf in know-
lege, or in virtue ? Halt thoa predicted
fornc conjunctions of the planets which
thou defire it to fee accomphlhed Hail
thou entered upon acourie of itudy which
jhe Angel of Death may prevent thy
finiming, or commenced works of bene-
volence which the ufual term of human
life is too ihort for bringing to perfec-
tion ? Aboulhamed with bluihes con-
fefled, that he wifhed for long-life folely
to enjoy his riches " Alas !" laid the
Brahmin, " what enjoyment is there of
life when old-age has destroyed our appe-
tites and paffions ? Thy firft wilh mould
have been for perpetual youth, and then
the other would have been rational.
Know, ftranger, that before thy heart had
begun to beat, the number of its con-
tradions was determined. No art or
earthly
[ 423 ]
earthly power can add one to the fum,
but it depends on thy felf whether it {hall
ue exhaufted (boner or later. At the be-
ginning of things, when Brahma was ap-
pointed to create the human ipecies, he
judged that 2,831,718,400* pulfations
were the proper number for the dura-
tion of a life of feventy years of thefe
1 00,809 * are daily expended. If inftead
of this allowance thou wilt force thy
heart to beat twice as many, although
thy deftiny be not changed, thou liveft
but half thy .timp. By a life of reafon
and temperance the laft ftroke is long
delayed, but by wafting thy fpirits in
folly and riot the appointed number is
quickly accomplifhed. Remove the bal-
lance from the machine with which Eu-
ropeans meafure time, and the wheels
will hurry through their proper revolu-
tion of thirty hours in a few feconds,
Immenfe mould thy pofferTions be to af-
Ee 4 ford
* Brahma made his enumeration on the propor-
tion of feventy ftrokes in a minute.
ford the daily expence of 100,800 of the
fmalleft coin One day's income is too
great to be loft Of how much more
confequence then is this fum if applied
to Time, which is invaluable ? In the dif-
iipation of worldly treafure the frugality
cf the future may balance the extrava-
gance of the paft ; but who can fay, " I
will take from minutes to-morrow, to
compenfate thofe I have loft to-day ?"
" Thou deiireft long-life are there
not many hours in every day which pafs
unimproved, unemployed, and even un-
noticed ? Ufe thefe firft, before thou de-
mandeft more. Be allured that the term
which nature has allotted to our exiftence,
is fufficient for all her purpofes, and for
all ours, if we employ it properly ; but
if We wafte our time inftead of improving
it, what right have we to complain of
wanting that, of which we already pof-
fe& more than we ufe?"
Aboulhamed,
[ 425 ]
Aboulhamed, making his falam to the
Brahmin, departed; and like his fellow
mortals, felt all the inferiority of being
inftru&ed, without the benefit of the in-
ftrudion ; for he ftill continued to wim
for life, and ftill continued to fquander
it away.
On
[ 426 ]
On Antiquities.
, in his Tableau de Paris,
remarks " That ancient names without
** fplendor difinal, plain ftone coffins
'* figures fad and uninterefling, fculp-
" tured without tafte or proportion ; are
" the things which fill our churches.
" Genius feems to be abafed under the
" dominion of terror, and her trembling
" hand can only venture to trace images
" difmal and monotonous. Contemplate
" the ruins of Herculaneum and Portici;
" they carry not the imprefTion of fo dark
' an imagination."
This remark is worthy of fome confi-
deration.
The
[ 4*7 ]
The ruins of Rome firfl gave the mo-
derns a hint for ftudying Antiquities-
nothing could be more laudable thofe
remains mewed the ftate of the arts in a
great empire which had copied them
from the pureil Grecian models. Every
budding, ilatue, and coin* became a ief-
fon from a polilhed, to a barbarous age ;
and befides being an objed: of curioiity,
was of the greateit ufe, as holding up a
point of perfection which we ihould en-
deavour to attain.
This ftudy had not long been in vogue,
before barbarous Antiquity became an
object of attention and defervedly fo,
as far as fatisfying our curiofity, in dif-
covering what ideas our forefathers en-
tertained of the arts. But when -we con-
fider Gothic fubjects as models for appro-
bation or imitation ; we loie all the ad-
vantages of acquired tafle, and revert to
the ua ; s of ignorance.
Dugdale's
[ 428 ]
Dugdale's Monafticon and his St. Paul's,
are ufeful and proper fubjedts, with the
above reftridion. To Hollar we are
much indebted for preferving the old Ca-
thedral of London ; but let it not be ima-
gined that becaufe Gothic Antiquity is
old> it is, therefore, in a poliihed age *
to be accounted beautiful, although it un-
doubtedly poflefles its own proper merit.
In the beginning of this century was a
rage for Roman Antiquities moit cf our
travellers confined their remarks to ru-
ined temples, broken columns, mutilated
altars, and obliterated coins fubjeds for
ridicule to many but all thefe had their
ufe, and led to the improvement of a
country in its progrefs towards perfection .
At this time we feem to exert all our
powers in reading infcriptions on broken
totnbilones belonging to " ancient names
without
* See the Efiay on this fubjeft, p. 95.
[ 429 ]
without fplendour" in publifhing mu-
tilated figures " fad and uninterefting,
fculptured without tafte or proportion"
in feals of forgotten bimops and abbots,
which offer nothing for imitation or im-
provement, and are fcarcely objects of
curiofity.
Elegant Antiquity engages our atten-
tion from its excellence Barbarous An-
tiquity we mould almofl fear to fee, left
cuftorn might make us approve what we
ought to avoid.
On
r 43
On Derivation*
ACCIDENT frequently gives birth ta
words which in fucceeding times are with
difficulty traced to their origin.
The terms Whig and Tory have been
derived from fo many different fources,
that we may prefume their real origin is
unknown. The cant words of the mo-
ment, being hafty productions, are mod
commonly fhort-lived but fometimes
they get firmer hold, and by degrees gain
afjttlement in the language, and become
part of it.
A ;
The term club is of this latter fort it
is not only admitted into our own tongue,
but has been adopted in France, and is
now extending itfelf to other countries.
It
[ 43' 1
It is therefore become of fufficient con-
iequence to claim the attention of the
literary herald, and to have its origin
fearched ; which I believe may be found
in Rumworth. Who tells us, that in
1 645 " there were ajfidations of people
to prevent themfelves from being plun-
dered by either army, called *7#<-men,
from the weapons they carried." Club-
men was, as ufual, foon abbreviated to
club and the term, from being peculiar,
grew by degrees to be general, and ap-
plied to aflbciations of people which had
not before an appropriated title.
It prefently fpread rapidly, and at the
beginning of this century was firmly efta-
bliihed in England, and now bids fair
to be one of the moft general terms in
Europe.
On Climate.
JL SET out for Dover. Having
" been accuftomed to confider the climate
" of this country as much colder than
" that of France, I was aftonimed at the
" mildnefs of the air, the -charming ver-
" dure of the fields, the trees in bloffom,
" and the fpring in general in a more fbr-
" ward ftate than I had left it in my own
" country."
DE PAGES.
If we were to eflimate the heat and
cold of a country fimply by its diftance
from the equator, Mr. Pages was quite
right in the judgment he had formed of
England but there are many other cir-
cumilances to be confidered
Whether
[ 433 ]
Whether the country be an ifland or
part of the Continent ?
Whether it has ridges of high moun-
tains ? and
What is its ftate of cultivation ?
If it be an ifland, it is lefs hot in fum-
mer, and lefs cold in winter. Of courfe,
vegetation begins fooner* and continues
longer but as the fummer heat is greater
on the Continent j fruits, fuch as 'grapes
and figs, &c. will ripen there in the fame
latitude, which will not bring them to
perfection in an ifland. On the other
hand, vegetables for the table will flou-
riih through the winter in an ifland,
which would be deftroyed by froft on the
Continent.
If -there be ridges of high mountains,
fuch as the Alps or Pyrenees, the fnow
which remains on them unduTolved thro*
Ff the
[ 434 ]
the fummer, gives a keennefs to the wind
blowing from them, which is not felt in
a more level country, and retards the
fpring Now, there are no mountains of
this fort in England.
If land be well managed, it pumes forth
vegetation fooner and ftronger. The
ground in France, it is true, is exten-
fively cultivated, but moft miferably ma-
nured; nor is the corn-harveft in the
north of that country fo forward as in
the fouth of England by fome weeks.
One would think thefe truths muft
have been long lince difcovered, but they
feem to be as much unknown to the ge-
neral part of mankind, as if they did not
exift.
To this let me add a few extracts from
a fenfible, modern traveller, on the cli-
mate of Italy
[ 435 ]
* * * The climate of Naples difap-
" pointed us no lefs. Perpetual rain and
" ftorms, with really cold weather during
" the greater part of our abode there,
" made large fires neceffory, &c."
" The weather at Rome was far from
" uniformly pleafant during our flay.
" We had much rain, many dull days,
" and fome very cold ones, though no
" fnow. The moft difagreeable and un-
" wholefome circumftance in the climate
" of Italy, is the cold wind that occa-
" fionally blows from the mountains for
" a day or two, often with fuch piercing
" feverity, that no exercife, even in fun-
" fhine, can keep the body warm. * * *
" May i . Even at this feafon we had
" very cold weather."
2* A moft terribly cold day,
with much rain, and a violent north-
eaft wind, &c."
Ff2 "May
[ 436 ]
" May 13. Thejirft thoroughly fine
" day fince we left Rome."
".May 20. The wind fo extremely
" cold, that it was impoffible to enjoy
" anything in the open air."
" May 17. Being Afcenfion-Day, and
" the painted Madonna having with much
" ado procured very fine weather (for it
" feems to be efteemed a miracle to have
" a fine day at Venice in the middle of
" May) &c." SMITH.
I could add many more testimonies*
to the inclemency of the winters (if that
feafon
* Nor indeed are they wanting to prove, that
even the fumraers have at times a dalh of cold,
which one knows not how to think poffible in a
climate fo much extolled. The feniible and ob-
ferving author of Lettres d'ltalie, has the following
remark" Tranfis de froid comme j'aurois era ne
1'etre jamais en Italic, ni nulle part en cette Saifon
(19 Juillet) nous avons longe la cote fous VUlc-
franche laifiant Nice, &c. &c."
[ 437 ]
feafon may be extended to the end of
May) in Italy. A party went from Rome,
to Naples refided there a fortnight, in
which time not a fingle day occurred that
would admit of taking the fmalleft ex-
curfion the weather was a continued
courfe of cold wind, rain, fleet, and
The often-quoted faying of Charles the
Second, on the climate of England, is
perhaps as true as it is common.
-fivMti Flf'nllb-- 1
/Xhe fouth-coaft of our iiland is natu-
rally reforted to by valetudinarians who
wifh for a mild air : and although the dif-
ference of latitude . between Dover and
Penzance is not very material, yet the
winter is by far moll: temperate at the
latter of thefe places. This muft arife
from other circumftances. There feem
to be feveral caufes combined, to produce
this effect
Ff 3 .."i..
[ 438 ]
1 . When the wind is North, it comes
over a large tracl: of land before it reaches
thecoaft of Dorfetfhire, Hampihire, Suf-
fex, and Kent, which is not fo with the
fouth-weftern counties the eaftern coail
then from this caufe muft be colder.
2. The county of Cornwall is fur-
rounded by the fea, except where it joins
to Devonshire. The fea being lefs warm
in fummer, and lefs cold in winter, com-
municates its property to the adjoining
land, which is here but of fmall dimen-
fions, and neceflariiy partakes of the fea's
temperature.
3. As frofts, in general, come with a
wind in fome point between the north
and eaft ; they are found to commence on
the Continent before they reach England,
and to begin on the north-eaftern fide of
our ifland before the fouth-weftern part is
affected : from which caufe it happens
that many mort frofts never reach De-
yonfhire
t 439 ]
vonfliire and Cornwall. Suppofe a froft
eftablifhed in thefe two counties, in com-
mon with the reft of the kingdom There
will be no thaw until the courfe of the
air be reverfed: as foon as the wind
changes to the fouth-weft, Cornwall feels
the change firft, and it is no uncommon
circumftance to hear of froft ftill conti-
nuing to the north-cart, long after it is
quite gone in that, and the next county.
Thefe caufes, taken together, clearly
account for the mildnefs of the winter in
the two fouth-weftern counties, where,
perhaps, is a more fleady temperature,
and lefs difference between the extreme
points of heat and cold, than is to be
found in any other part of Europe. As
thefe facts may now be conlidered, from
repeated obfervation, as eftablifhed, it is
probable, that a practice begun from ne-
ceiTity, may be continued by choice, and
thcie medical cafes, which require a
milder climate, may be m<5re effectually
F f 4 relieved
[ 44 ]
relieved in our own country than any
other; efpecially if the inconveniences
(hardfhips, indeed, to iick perfons) be
taken into the account, which muft un-
avoidably be endured in foreign countries
where the accommodations for travelling,
to which we are accuilomed, do not
exift.
On
On Poetical and Mujical Ear.
'
years ago a controverfy was car-
ried on in a periodical publication upon
this queftion " Whether there was a
neceflity of a muiical ear for an orator?"
Both parties, as ufual, were obftinate in
their refpective opinions. Let us exa-
mine them.
"H JS.- T J t 'U.-Iv y,s ri--ji-
Thofe that hold a mufical ear to be ne-
ceffary for an orator, fupport their opi-
nion in this manner. Every voice has its
proper key, from which, though the
fpeaker may wander for the fake of ex-
preffion, yet he muft return to it again :
The different modulations of the voice
muft be either a little above, or a little
below the key, in which it mould always
clofe Anything out of the key of the
voice
[ 442 ]
voice offends as much in fpeaking as in
finging Mulic, befides tune, having
rhythmus, fo is there a meafure in ora-
tory, which we cannot falfify without of-
fending the ear As there are refts in
mufic, fo there are paufes in fpeaking
from all thefe confiderations, it is evident,
that a good ear is equally necefTary for an
orator and for a mufician.
To this the other party replies
As all perfons fpeak, but as all have
not a mufical ear, it is evident, that if
the latter were necefTary for the well-
doing of the former, thofe who have no
ear would fpeak in a manner peculiar and
difagreeable. If the afTertor fay, that it
is not in common fpeaking, but in ora-
tory, that a mufical ear is requilite, the
other anfwers That as oratory is but
the perfection of fpeaking, there is no-
thing in oratory that has not its founda-
tion in common fpeech.
But,
[ 443 ]
But, the facl: is, that the tone of the
voice in fpeaking, and the tune of the
voice in finging, bear not the leaft re-
femblance to each other they are formed
upon principles directly oppolite* the
different inflexions of the voice in fpeak-
ing, are not mulical intervals in finging,
they are, or fhould be, nothing but mu-
iical intervals. If we feel the outfide
of the throat while fpeaking, and then
change from fpeaking to finging, it will
be perceived that the arrangement within
which produced fpeaking, mufl be changed
before we can form a mufical found.
Recitative is that fpecies of mulic which
bears the neareft refemblance to fpeaking
and fpeaking it is, in mulical founds ;
but this, as far as tune is concerned, is
more removed from common fpeaking,
than from finging, becaufe the intervals
are tones, femitones, &c.
Pope,
* To a perfon of real mufical feeling, there, is
nothing more difagreeably dhTonant, than the founds
occafioned by fpeaking during the performance of
mufic.
[ 444 1
Pope, though fo mufical a poet, had
no ear for mufic -, the fame thing is re-
ported of Swift. One of the moft agree-
able fpeakers I ever knew, had no ear ;
and the fame may be faid of fome of the
firft orators in both Houfes of Parliament,
but the ftrongeft inilance is found in Gar-
rick it is an undoubted fadl, that he had
no ear. This feems to decide the quef-
tion at once, for it was univerfally al-
lowed that no one ever pofTeffed the tones
of fpeaking in a fuperior degree to this
incomparable actor.
I could much flrengthen what has been
advanced by forne iiluftrious inftances of
prefent ftage-performers, and it is to the
difad vantage of my argument that I muft
neceiTarily avoid mentioning the names of
perfons ftill living my proof muft there-
fore reft on Gar rick, in whom could
never be difcovered any defect of tones
appropriated to the various paffions, in the
many
[ 445 ]
many characters he fo fuccefsfully repre-
fented.
Perhaps, the miftake may have arifen
from ufing the fame terms, in poetry,
oratory, and mufic as ear, that is, the
difcrimination of intervals, is abfolutely
neceflary in muiic, fo it has alfo been
fuppofed eflential to poetry, and oratory
and this is not the only inftance of
confulion arifing from a wrong applica-
tion of terms.
On
f 446 ]
On Mental and Corporeal Pleafure.
" T
JL PITY her to my heart," fays a lady,
when fhe heard that the hufoand of her
friend was no more, " me will be mife-
rable for the remainder of her life." " She
will," replied one of the company (more
remarked for his bluntnefs than difcre-
tion) " me will be miferable until her
grief has worn itfelf out, or fome fuperior
pain engages her attention." " Superior
pain!" interrupted the lady, " what fuf-
fering can be fuperior to that which we
endure from the lofs of friends !" " Our
pains are various," replied her antagonift,
" whatever we feel at the inftant, we
think to be the worft pomble he that
has the head-ache will never believe the
pain in the teeth to be worfe but when
the tooth-ache comes, then we exclaim,
" anything
[ 447 ]
" anything but this I could have borne
with patience !" " What are all the
aches in nature when compared to the
heart-ache ? which is what my poor dear
friend fuffers!" faid the lady, earneftly.
" If you mean by heart-ache," returned
the gentleman, " actual bodily pain, I
am of opinion that the grief of Mrs.
will not be of long duration" " I never
heard anything like this," faid the lady,
" how can pain of the mind be removed
by that of the body ? "It is the moft
certain way to remove it," faid the other.
The lady not replying, perhaps, from
aftonimment ; her opponent bafely took
advantage of her filence, to fupport the
part he had taken by a much longer
fpeech than he ought to have made, had
he been contented with his proper fhare
of the converfation
" That the pleafures and pains of the
mind (fays he) are fuperior to thofe of
the-
t 448 ]
the body, is one of the falfe maxims
which cuftom has fandified, and which
we are taught to believe, in common with
other opinions, under the fame authority.
" It can be no falfe maxim to affert,
that the fcale which is heavieft, muft pre-
ponderate. If we are pofTefling a moderate
pleafure, and can enjoy a greater, we na-
turally quit the former for the latter. If
we are enduring pain, and a greater be
inflicted, the firft fenfation is done away
by the latter. Let us examine corporeal
and mental fenfation s upon this principle.
, " The pleafures of the mind confift in
reflexion on fuch fubjeds, by which it is
either inftruded, or entertained. Sup-
pofe it engaged in the molt interefting
enquiry in morals, philofophy, or divi-
nity ; that it was receiving all the plea-
fures which the moil favoured author
could bellow, or enjoying a creation of
its own, and roving at large from one
fancied
[ 449 ]
fancied blifs to another. All thefe fen-
fations give place on the fight of a fine
picture, or the hearing of exquifite mufic,
(if we have a feeling of fuch enjoyment,)
or any other delightful appeal to the
fenfes but they become annihilated in
the prefence of a perfon we love the
pleafures of the mind cannot then be at-
tended to, even in their greateft perfection.
''-*''&'*; <?1 \ ,:,\'. y*UTl A *:
" Let us now fee if bodily pain be not
alfo fuperior to that of the mind.
" Suppofe ourfelves treated with ingra-
titude where obligations have been con-
ferred that we have parted from friends
for ever that we have buried our neareil
and deareft connections " Now, you
come to the point," interrupted the lady.
" That we are " fteeped in poverty to
the very lips," continued the orator.
" Let us imagine the heart aflailed by any,
or all of thefe torments in fuch circum-
ftances mould we attend to a fit of the
G g colic ?
[ 45 J
colic? No Of the gout? The ftone?
You begin to doubt I will determine
the point in a moment let this hot poker
touch you, I warrant all your affliction
vanimes, and bodily pain is alone trium-
phant.
*' To make this the furer, as in the
other cafe, reverfe the proportion. While
your arm is burning, let any one bawl
aloud, that misfortunes are coming on
you thicker than they did upon Job 3
you will find that the poker muft be re-
moved, before you can receive the infor-
mation.
" Now, though we all muft acknow-
ledge the truth of this argument ; there
is no one but fears, that to believe it
would be fomething like wickednefs.
" It is, it is wickednefs," replied the af-
flicted lady, " and I do not believe a fyl-
lable of all you have faid."
Having
Having furni/hed the reader 'with fo
JJiort an anfiver to the writer s opinions
let us, for the prefent, part.
F I N I $.
[ 453 3
INDEX.
*7~* PAGE.
1 HE Four Ages ------ i
On Gothic Architcfture ----- 95
The middle way not always bejl - - 107
The Villa -------- 113
On Wit -------- 119
^ Indian Tale - - - - - -132
Different Ufes of Reading and Converfation 141
Char after of Gain/borough - - - - 147
Character of Sir Jojhua Reynolds - - - 162
Whether Genius be born or acquired - - 185
The Venetian, French Captain, and Prieft - 199
The Ear d -------- 216
The Ghojl - - 223
On Gentlemen- Artifts - - - - - 229
Coincidences - - - - - - -236
On Literary Thievery - - . - - - 244
On Pojie's Epitaphs ------ 258
755* Hermit - - - - - - - 286
The Rejlramt of Society ----- 302
On Rhyme ------- 311
Odd Numbers ------- 322
Late ---------- 32 6
UJe of Accumulation 3 2 9
On
[ 454 ]
IGE.
On a Reform of Parliament - 340
Authors JJiould not exceed common Judgement 351
On the joining Poetry with Mujlc - 355
Almanacks - - - - - - _ -361
Authors improperly paired _- _ _ _ 364
The Cup-bearer, an Indian Tale - 368
On Beauty --_____ 383
An Odd Charafter --_-__ 388
Something beyond us, necejjary - 394
Influence of Appellations - 403
On Executions - - - _ _ _ -410
A proper Length necejjary for Mujlcal and Li-
terary Produflions - - - - - 415
Aboulhamed and the Brahmin - 420
On Antiquities - - - - - - -426
On Derivation ------- 430
On Climate - ______ 432
On Poetical and Mujlcal Ear - - - - 441
On Mental and Corporeal Pleafure - 446
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