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 E^f l^^l i^s 1
 
 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
 
 
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
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 OCT 1 8 1999 
 
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