Glass ss JD J\^\ Book .,tb % / PEREGRINATIONS OF THE MIND, THROUGH THE MOST GENERAL & INTERESTING SUBJECTS USUALLY AGITATED IN LIFE. Bv the late Mr. WILLIAM BAKER, printer. A NEW EDITION 5 To which is prefixed, a Biographic Memoir of the Author. There are three modes of life ; one practical, the other theoretical, the other luxurious: the practical one is destitute of philosophy and gross; the theoretical is without experience and of no utility; the luxurious life is the slave of its pleasures and disgraceful. Plutarch* LONDON: Printed by the Editor, Howford-buildings, Fenchurch-street. FOR SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, PATERNOSTER-ROW j AND COOPER AND PURDY, 47, LUDGATE-HTIX. 1811. IV to mathematical studies considerably injured his health ; and the great progress that he made determined his father to educate him for holy orders, to which his own inclina- tions led him, especially as they were flat- tered with hopes of encouragement by a dig- nitary of the church; but the friendship of this great man ended in disappointment. At the usual age, therefore, our author was apprenticed to Mr. Kippax, a printer, in Cullum-street, London ; and the con- nexion of his employment with literature, aided by a contented temper, softened the disappointment of earlier prospects. In this new mode of life, he evinced an exemplary industry in the attainment of learning ; and the study of the antients engaged his leisure, frequently even the hours of repose. The perquisites of extraordinary attention to bu- siness were devoted to increase his collec- tion of books, and to the purchase of the best editions of the classics. * The great exertion of mind and body thus persevered * The collection alluded to was very choice, though not ex- tensive, and was purchased at Mr. Baker's decease by Dr. Lettsom. V in so materially reduced the health of Mr, Baker, by the baneful operation of he- morrhage and cough, that but slight hopes were conceived of his recovery: happily, the aid of country air and medicine restored him to his friends. On the death of Mr. Kippax, our author succeeded to the business, which he carried on, first in Cullum-street, and afterwards in Ingram-court, in partnership with Mr. Gala- bin, who was many years in the common- council of Langbourn-ward, and is now prin- cipal bridge-master of the city of London. The succeeding years of Mr. Baker's exist- ence were quietly passed in the management of his business, and the gratification of clas- sical and scientific pursuits. The unassuming merits of this lamented gentleman were duely estimated by many eminent friends, well qualified to judge of them ; among whom may be mentioned, Dr. Oliver Goldsmith; Dr. Edmund Barker; the Rev. James Merrick, translator of Try- phiodorus, and author of many other pieces; Mr. Robert Robinson;* the Rev. Hugh * 'Compiler of the " Indices Tres " of words in Longinus, Eu- VI Farmer; the Rev. Caesar de Missy, one of the French chaplains to the king ; James El- phinston, esq. ; &c. &c. Of the Greek, Latin, French, and Italian, languages, our author possessed very supe- rior knowledge; he was somewhat acquaint- ed with the Hebrew language, and to his own had given much judicious attention; the fruits of which appear in some ingenious M, S. remarks, pointing out the frequent abuse of grammatical propriety in common conversation, even in superior rank, and among reputable writers. A respectable ta- lent for poetry produced several detached pieces ; which, with many smart jeux d'es- prit, &c. were published in the various peri- odical miscellanies. In compositions for the pulpit, he evinced a very correct taste, and many excellent sermons were accepted and used by his clerical friends. In the year 1770, Mr. Baker published napius, and Hierocles. In his preface, this gentleman mentions them as composed by the advice of Mr. Merrick, by whose recom- mendation they were, in 1772, printed at the Clarendon press at the expense of the university ; and the compiler liberally re- warded. — The learned and philanthropic Mr. George Dyer has performed the office of biographer to his friend, Mr. Robin&on. Vll the present very ingenious work, (long since become scarce,) as having been written "By the nationalist;" and in 1780, " Theses, Greece et Latinae, selects, " 8vo, pp. 192; a judicious and tasteful selection from a varie- ty of Greek and Latin originals, abundantly enriched with the lines t passages of authors that enter into the general routine of in- struction, and with extracts from writers of less familiar occurrence.* An elegant Latin correspondence with Mr. Robinson, and some letters of inquiry into difficulties in the Greek language, still exist; to bear honora- ble testimony of our author's erudition, and die opinion entertained of him by compe- tent scholars. * A copy of the Theses, presented by Mr. Baker to the late Mr. David Steel, (author of the Elements of Punctuation,) contains the following M. S. remark. " I think this collection valuable on account of its correct punctuation. It would afford ample mate- rials for a grammatical system of pointing the Latin language. D. S. " — We presume to add, in this place, an opinion that such a work might be a useful accession to classical literature. The attainments of the gentleman last-mentioned would have rendered such a collection useless to himself, who was intimately connected with Mr. Baker, and viewed him, as being many years his junior, both with reverence and affection ; but correct typography is of use among the junior classes of students in raising their attention by degrees from construction to criticism. Vlll Mr. Baker's singular diffidence probably prevented the communication of the result of his intense studies. Such was his habit- ual modesty, that his opinion was seldom eli- cited without an absolute appeal to his judgement ; and many of his most intimate friends (whose inclinations had not led to similar pursuits) were perfectly ignorant of his various and extensive learning. After considerable exertion in walking, about Christmas, 1784, he first experienced a violent affection in the side, unhappily ne- glected till assistance was ineffectual. The unmanageable nature of the disease # frus- trated the professional skill of many men of eminence, by whom he was kindly at- tended. For nearly nine months, Mr. Baker sustained the severest sufferings with patient fortitude, exerting his social disposition with facetious pleasantry, when free from pain ; and on the 29th of September, 1785, in the forty-fourth year of his age, he closed a truly amiable life. His remains were deposited in one of the vaults of St. Dionis Backchurch, * A prodigious enlargement of the omentum, which gradually augmented to the weight of twelve pounds. IX the parish of his constant residence in Lon- don ; and the following epitaph is placed on the tomb of his family, in the church-yard of St. Mary, Reading. M. S. Parentum, fratrumque duorum, Quorum senior fuit Gulielmus Baker, Vir literarum studiis adeo eruditus, Graecarum praecipue Latinarumque, Ut arti, quam sedulus excoluit Londini, (Ubi, in templo Dionysio dicato, Ossa ejus sepulta sunt,) Typographical ornamento, Ac familiaribus, Ob benevolentiam animi, Morum comitatem, et modestiam, Deliciis et desiderio fuerit. Omentum ejus auctum usque ad duodecim pondo et ultra, Literatos, auxiiio eruditionis eximiae ; Sororemque, et fratres, et patrem senem, Dulcibus illiu3 alloquiis ; Ipsumque, mortem oculo immoto intuentem, Vita, privavit, Die Septembris 29, 1785, jEt. 44. E filiis, Johannes Hoe marmor P. C. If we have said enough to excite a con- viction, that Mr. Baker was possessed of en- dowments which qualified him to take pre- cedence of many who now press confidently forward into the crowded ranks of litera- ture; then will it be needless for the editor to compromise the merit of our author's in- tellectual remains by the plea of private at- tachment, while their own intrinsic value, to the liberal reader, may afford both a motive and a sanction for presenting these essays again to the eye of a literary public. INTRODUCTION. IT may not be thought amiss, by way of introduction, to give some little account of the following chapters; the reasons for the choice of them, and the end proposed by them. Chap. 1 (On the Stage) is in answer to some retaled objections, that were originally suggested by bigotry # and prejudice, against theatrical amusements, much insisted on by the priests of the Romish Communion, to * In tracing- objections to theatrical exhibitions from bigotry, the author was aware that reflexions had been thrown on them at a time when bigotry was out of the question : such we find in lib. xiv. of Tacit. Annal. But against what were they levelled? Against lewdness. To lewdness, then, let them be confined; -and not extended to scenes of innocence B 2 serve the purpose of spiritual tyranny, which was endangered by freedoms assumed in lashing and unmasking vices hid under the cloak of solemnity. If, in defending these improving amusements, the author should seem, to any one, too much inclined to re- commend dissipation, he declares he no far- ther approves them than as they are condu- cive to welfare. The second chapter (On Love) was penned in consequence of a private dispute with a learned and sensible gentleman, who main- tained the existence of it to be a result of fashion. It was judged proper to pre- mise this, lest the author should seem to be fighting against the air. Chapter 3 (On Happiness) may possibh bear a stoical aspect, not meant to belong to it; but it is designed only to convey the dic- tates of a rational voluptuary. The three subsequent chapters seem to demand no comment. The chapter on War is taken up on an old grievance; but a repetition of such senti- ments will, it is feared, be never unseason- able: for what signifies inveighing against and punishing crimes that affect only a few 3 individuals, and overlooking enormities that tend to the destruction of millions? As often as war is mentioned, the old, yet shrewd, remark of the little pirate to the great robber will ever start up in the memory. It has, indeed, been alleged, as a consolation for this inhuman butchery, that, in combination with pestilence and other calamities, it takes off superfluities that would, in a course of years, overstock the globe : though there is little danger of such a redundance; a very considerable part of the world is at this day, and has been time immemorial, uninhabited, as if to make room for emigrants. But war- riors have not that remedy in view; their own ambition is all they consult : on which account they are not so amiable as execu- tioners, who remove only the nuisances of society. It is that spirit of greediness and ferocity that incites to war, which is cen- sured ; a spirit which, within a smaller cir- cle, within the private concerns of mankind, produces knaves and villains. Even if it were necessary to prune the luxuriance of the human race, let Calmncs and Tartars, Turks and Arabs, the weeds and worthless branches, be lopped off; the men whose mi- cultured passions confound them with brutes, and who could almost feed on the carcases of those they slaughter ; not the polished and civilised inhabitants of Europe, who are en- lightened by the beams of science, and ought to shake off savage manners. Chap. 8, in defence of theatrical humor, appeared not unseasonable at a time when the rage for refinement, imported from a neighbour-kingdom, bids fair for banishing one of the most pleasing qualities of the stage, the representation of real character. From this we pass on to chap. 11, (On Patriotism,) introduced as a subject much in question at these jarring times. Chap. 13 (Antient and modern virtues compared) attacks what the author esteems a prejudice; by which the want of reserve and gravity is construed as a proof of cor- ruption, to the discredit of that freedom which every honest heart must love. Be- sides, there is something so gloomy in the unreasonable notion of continual degenera- cy, as quite to dishearten a man. * * Should it be thought that the authorities adduced from Petrc- nius are doubtful ; that M. Nodot has imposed on the world in his story of the copy said to be found at Belgrade; and that the cop- Chap. 14 (On the secrets of metaphysics; is a natural result of the disappointment which ever awaits the diving researches of an inquisitive mind into the mysteries of nature. In this chapter no reflexions are meant to be thrown on the philosophic ornaments of lite- rature ; but only a lamentation on the boun- daries of human knowledge, which is be- wildered when it would grasp at what is be- yond its reach. Lest the author should be arraigned for detraction in chapter 15, (On the unreason- able compliments paid to the antients for their works, exemplified in Horner,) he will here, as he has in the body of that chapter, remark, that he reverences genius in every age, whether amongst antients or moderns ; at the same time that he prefers that which is combined with judgement. The beauti- ful quotations with which he has adorned se- veral of his pages shall serve to evince what sul Petronius was not the author of what has been long fathered on him ; admitting all this, no shining quality beside patriotism seems so to blazon the Greek and Roman characters, in the unim- peached accounts of other writers, as to raise our envy ; and even that principle, amiable as it was when confined to the proper limits of its native district, was sullied by many unwarrantable sallies it made, sword in hand, abroad. a regard he has for their real excellences ; which he is sorry to find interspersed with deformities: the greatest portion of them, notwithstanding, it must be confessed, falls to the share of the prose w Titers, though a poet is here in question; judgement being more particularly the province of the former, and genius of the latter. Since chap. 17 (On cruelty) was penned, a doubt started up, whether a repetition on this subject, to a reader of feeling, does not merit that appellation. If it should chance to offend, let the insertion of it be numbered with the errata. Thus far was judged proper to be premised of particular chapters. Many of the chapters (1, 2, 9, 13, 16, and 20,) are casuistical. The reason why they were chosen was, that in problematical, or controverted, topics, there is greater scope for argument and a less probability of the charge of triteness being exhibited, than in others. It is at all times allowed to obtrude opinions on disputed points, when settled and confirmed notions wouldnot suffer a repetition. If it be objected that some of the subjects have been handled before, the author an- swers, in his vindication, that he has not always been satisfied with the opinions he has met with, which have too much rested on systems, and on systems frequently not founded in nature. The remarks he has ventured to expose are such as were sug- gested by his own private observation or ex- perience : and where they concur with the sen- timents of authors that precede him, he has their suffrage; where they do not, he will take candor for his plea, and the love of what appeared to him in the guise of truth. He has talked much of prejudice : if he has given any examples of it peculiar to him- self, he begs his readers' pardon ; and, when convicted, with pleasure kisses the rod of correction, from whatever quarter. Candor with him ever does, with every one ever ought to, wear the fairest form. The learned reader will find many obser- vations herein contained old and familiar, which may to others appear in the garb of novelty and importance. It is with books on every subject, in some degree, as it is with grammar ; that a system, be it good or bad, is made up of trifles, on the selection of which depends the character of the au- 8 thor. In grammar, letters, syllables, and words, are to be properly arranged : in spe- culative topics, we look for a just disposition and choice of ideas and sentiments. In most common subjects, after the mul- titude of authors, little else is to be hoped for but a difference of dress. Writing has this in common with painting. The human body has been painted numberless times by numberless painters, with limbs, colours, and canvass, nearly the same; but each has a manner peculiar to himself: and it were more agreeable sometimes to gaze on a faulty piece, for the sake of variety, than always to be confined to the sight of a few excellent portraits. PEREGRINATIONS OF THE MIND. CHAPTER I. On the Stage. To mortal man no blessing e'er is giv'n, Which may not prove a curse, though sent by heav'n. Ovid, . The general tendency of the theatre has been the subject of much controversy among moralists. It has been thought by some to have a good effect in reform- ing the manners of a people; whilst others have de- claimed against it as one of the instruments of the devil. One represents it as the school of virtue; ano- ther as the nursery of vice. One asserts that it in- flames the passions ; another that it dilates the breast and opens the human heart : but both sides agree that it is not a matter of indifference, which can do neither good nor harm. 10 [Chap. i. In all controversies (it is proper to premise) the dis- putants on either side present the dark or favourable side of a question to view, according as it suits their several purposes ; and endeavour to conceal and sup- press every circumstance that makes for their antago- nists. This observation is founded in fact, and true of most disputes in general; but it is eminently appli- cable to the friends and enemies of the drama, who have, each in their turn, variously characterised it ac- cording as their different fancies led them. Among the antients, the theatre was in general in esteem with their writers, the most austere of whom considered it as a school of instruction: another cause for objections against it must be assigned, which is not difficult to be discovered. Bigotry and superstition have been, at different times, the parents of every folly, and, what is worse, the nursery of crimes. From this odious source are originally derived the objections which have been made to the representation and writing of plays, for the public entertainment ; and (to the honor of dramatic pieces be it spoken) they have met with the most virulent opposition from the professors of the Romish communion, who even deny those concerned in them the privileges of their fellow-citizens. A rea- son for this is easy to be imagined, and has been often hinted at : as it is the proper province of the comic muse to expose knavery and folly, that church had the highest reason to dread her lash. The priests gave the alarm, and the simple part of the world have echoed back their cries. Ckap.i.} If In order to justify their censure of the drama, its- enemies of every denomination have unfairly selected the loose and unchaste productions of some writers of this class, and from them pronounced sentence on all. The partiality and injustice of this procedure are too glaring to be pointed at. I am not at all surprised if objections are made to unchaste comedies : it is not the interest of a well-regulated community to encou- rage them. Luxury and debauchery unnerve the hu- man frame, and are undoubtedly the characteristics of a state leaning rather to a decay, than rising to a greater perfection, as history amply testifies ; and they scarcely ever need a spur, as nature is but too prone to prompt to those irregularities : but the passion of love, indulged with such restrictions as comedy ought to teach, is a generous principle, and may, under certain circumstances, be deemed even a virtue. Now I am on this point, a fair opportunity offers itself of paying a compliment to the delicacy of the present age. It is notorious (particularly of late years) that the highest disapprobation has been shewn of what- ever borders on indelicacy in any shape ; and that even to an excess. To such a height has this humor been carried, as to explode what might have been very fairly allowed, without violation of decorum, and what the colouring of character sometimes requires in support of a piece. # From Aristophanes, who had the least * A memorable example of this mock-delicacy was not long since exhibited, in the cold reception an excellent comedy met with from the spectators. The piece I mean is The Good-natured Man, ™ [Chap. t. imaginable regard to decency, down to our own times, comic writers have, by a reformation on this head, gra- dually and wisely contributed to wipe off aspersions of this kind, as sensible that the wantonness of men needs not satyrion, nor their madness wine. The objections made to indecent comedies, then, are equally applicable to writings of other kinds. Inde- cent memoirs, indecent novels, or indecent dialogues, are likewise to be exploded : but it does not follow that all memoirs, dialogues, and novels, are to be ex- tirpated because some are bad, any more than that all theatrical performances are to be forbidden because there have been unchaste comedies. By a similarity of reasoning might we plead for the prohibition of writings of all sorts, since pure and unexceptionable the production of an author of confessed abilities. The interest- ing scene of the bailiff and his follower, a scene abounding in real humor, upon which the plot in a great measure turned, was ordered to be curtailed, because it represented low-life, and wounded the delicate ears of the Midases of the upper gallery, who first con- ceived disgust. The Jovial Crew, the Beggars' Opera, and some others that might be named, meet with the greatest applause : the latter is even indulged so far as to be played for weeks without intermission. Is it their delicacy and connection with high-life that commands this encouragement ? But the public is a fickle judge, and does not always render merit its due. Could the esti- mation of those pieces be obliterated, it is chance but they would now meet the hiss that is levelled at supposed indecorum. Time is the touch-stone of merit, and they have stood the test. The peo- ple are told they are good, and therefore presume not to censure them on that score. I mean not to depreciate either : they have their excellence ; but this partiality, to the prejudice of more mo dern adventurers in authorship, is too gross to pass unnoticed. Chap, i.} 13 works of every species may be contrasted with an Aretine, a Rochester, a Petronius, or a Cleland. The amount of such objections as these is actually no more than that bad plays are bad things; and so are bad priests or bad magistrates; but we are not therefore to discard all priests and magistrates, because some have been bad. It is likewise urged, by the enemies of the stage, that there are some who indulge in diversions of this nature to an excess. To this it may be replied, that if the children or dependents of any one are too much ad- dicted to them, and bestow more time and expense on them than their circumstances will warrant, it is partly to be laid to the account of the head of the family himself, who suffers this excess. Or even, admitting that others, who are under no controul but that of their own wills, incline to the same extreme, is the whole body of the public to be denied all amusement because some few 7 indulge to a fault ? As well might we as- sert that no public benefit whatever should be allowed, because all are capable of abuse. Would it be reason- able, for instance, to issue orders for the extirpation of fruit-trees, or for filling up all the wells in the kingdom, because it may happen that a boy may eat of the one, or drink of the other, in a burning heat, and so be thrown into a fever ? Questions of this sort might be asked without number, were it at all necessary. There is nothing but what is capable of abuse and misappli- cation from human perverseness. Prudence is the only guide in these and all other points, aud by that guide 14 [Chap. i. ought every one to steer his course in the conduct of life. If there are men who have not the least share of this useful qualification in their compositions, I know not what methods can be taken with them: they are unfit for this world, and the sooner they are out of it the better. Perhaps, in tempers of the common stamp, a prin- cipal reason assignable for an immoderate passion for any thing is, that it is too great a novelty. This has been found to be the case in country towns where the comedians do not constantly resort: the consequence of which has been, that, when they made their appear- ance, the magistrates judged it expedient to dismiss them, because the giddy minds of the youth of both sexes were intoxicated with the pleasure they enjoyed in these spectacles : which dismission partly depended on the taste of the petty sovereign who presided du- ring the theatric visit. If he chanced to be a miser, a clown, or an hour-glass-maker, with a taste on a level with those characters, woe to the company ! Excluding the players does indeed prevent the effects of excessive indulgence ; but a surfeit is the most radical cure. In vindication of dramatic performances, it may with justice be said, that, if they do swell the passions, it is the nobler passions which are called forth ; pas- sions which, if well directed, are the ornaments of human nature. That they be properly regulated, it is the business of the author to provide. It is deeme'd by judges an imperfection m a performance* if it oXkvfXBotia Lick, TtfTOV ( oi *Xw«?. Anaereon* 22 [Chap, ii deserve the name of a passion, which men have in their power to suspend or indulge so much at ease. But this does not amount to an objection. We have abun- dant examples of men's disregarding or subduing the several feelings of nature, by dint of resolution, or by inattention to their dictates, according as a distraction of views, their opinions of virtue, or their thirst of glory, led them. There are still greater examples of triumph over human weakness : patriotism, in particu- lar, among the Romans, may seem so to have trans- ported some great souls, as to have raised them above the condition of humanity, and to have realised the fancied superior order of heroes. # If Regulus could so far contemn his own private feelings and sufferings, when set in competition with his country's good, as to submit to torture and death, rather than in his own opinion approve himself an unworthy son of it, it was no proof of his want of feeling, but of an extraordina- ry resolution arising from another motive. It is rare indeed that a first-sight view 7 will kindle a flame. Love, as well as other affections, requires time and indulgence to wind it up to such a pitch as to occupy the chief attention of that person who is the subject of it, and deserve the name of a passion. Like the herbs of the field, it vegetates and increases in * Sed nee illo volimtario ad hostes sues reditu, [Reguli,] nee ultimo sive carceris, sive crucis, supplicio, deformata majestas : imo his omnibus admirabilior, quid aliud qiiam victus de victori- bus? atque etiam, quia Carthago non cesserat, de Fortuna triuiu- phavit. — - Florus. Chap. wVj 23 proportion as it is tended and cherished; and, like them too, it is checked and blasted, if discouraged or neglected. Love will bear the strictest metaphorical comparison with fire. A single spark will often kindle a high- built pile ; but it needs some trifling assistance when it is in so weak a state. It is at first diminutive, and scarcely to be perceived; but a little fanning and encou- ragement will kindle it into flame, and convince the by-stander of its powerful force, by an appeal to his quickest senses. In like manner, the origin of many an amour has been equally inconsiderable, and the most trivial action, the most trifling circumstance, ob- served in either sex, has often shot a spark into the bosom of the other, and produced a flame requiring a river of water to extinguish it, and which has not died away but with the lamp of life itself. The rise and progress of this passion are different under 'different circumstances. It not only may not arise from a trifling interview, but even not be con- ceived till after the conjugal knot is tied. Love is sometimes the fruit of matrimony, as well as matrimo- ny is of love, and Cupid is the infant offspring of their mutual embraces. This is perhaps the happiest con- dition of a marriage state, as no mortifying disappoint- ment lurks behind. If the pairs did not expect a heaven of bliss, they were not alarmed when they found it not : but to find more ,J *i&n there was reason to hope for is doubly a blessing, and the possibility of tl [Chap.ii. it is spur sufficient to stir up many an adventurer, who, but for this, would never have proved his fate. The very constitution of society, the connexions formed between a man and his wife, and the necessity of the care of both of them for their offspring, were doubtless foreseen by the great Author of creation. As the case of man differs much from the condition of brutes, a different economy was requisite for their situ- ation, and the mutual love of the sexes was the noblest instance of wisdom that could have been exhibited. By this circumstance the interest in the tender babe, which is the fruit of their amour, is common to either parent, and the father is almost equally concerned for its safety and support with the mother that bore it. The sacred flame that animates a human breast is a noble composition of benevolence to the object be- loved, differing from the attachment of brutes, with which it is almost profaneness to compare it. Friend- ship is the foundation for this noble affection, which, when the contrary sex is the subject of it, by a preju- dice of nature, is converted into that particular species called Love. It is, however, possible that the different sexes may conceive a friendship for each other without the least tincture of the other passion ; but this will be found to be the case, when a disparity of years, a pre- possession in favour of another, or a form which plea- ses not, intervene. But let nature have her full scope and direction, let brnity be contrasted with beauty, and youth with youth, and the consequences of such a Chap, ii.] 25 situation will evince how far the passion of love is of natural growth, provided no circumstance of prejudice diminish the human feelings. By a bountiful profusion of nature, the causes of love are as various as the different complexions of the human race. Some a temper allures, some a face. The tresses of his mistress, like the chains of a con- queror, hold another enslaved. There are again those who are captivated by the charms of a mind, and be- hold the virtues through a face, which is (as a late masterly writer expresses himself) ' their transparent covering. ' An arm, a heel, a mem, a size, and a thousand more such distinctions, have, each in its turn, captivated the heart of a hero. # That a man is often partly taken with the elegance of dress in his mistress, and not with her own personal charms alone, and that consequently his attachment in such a case should not be esteemed the thraldom of love, but a mere taste for magnificence ; •— even this is an arrant mistake, and I can, upon the authority of one * Nigra /wix^goo? est ; immunda et foetida ttxoj, &*a m o-wrrav wXb^a tts^i avrw; \eyet. Menand. $, 28 [Chap. in. CHAPTER III. On Happiness. In raptures sudden, and in flights too high, Expect and fear a fall ; for danger's nigh. Tasso. 1 Happiness (says an antient writer) bears the semblance of satisfaction and perfection, being the ultimate aim of all our actions/ # How to arrive at it is the grand question, the great business of life : but it is universally agreed, that without a contented mind we catch at a shadow in the pursuit of it. He, that is not tolerably easy in every station, will never be per- fectly satisfied in any. Nothing is more frequent amongst moral writers than to represent content, a quality merely constituti- r?k&>. ~ Aristot. Eth, lib* u Chap. iii.\ 29 onal, as a virtue and a duty, and discontent as a vice or a crime, a repugnance to the dispensations of hea- ven, and a tacit rebellion against its decrees. How far this idea is just, I shall not now inquire ; but whe- ther it be reasonable or not, sure I am it is a lesson as little regarded as any that ever flowed from the pen of a moralist. To oppose men's restlessness in search after happiness is to stem a torrent, and to barely enjoin content is to talk in an unknown tongue. In all our attempts to correct and inform, we should consider it as an essential point to humor the objects of our endeavours, without which all our precepts are lost in air. The most cogent and persuasive rhetoric that can be used, is to speak to the utility and self-love of mankind ; to make appear that our precepts are conducive to the desired end ; that happiness is equally the desideratum of both writer and reader. The dis- ciple of this reasoning will listen with attention to such a promising preceptor, and eagerly swallow a potion that is sweetened to his palate, as preferable to the bitter draught administered by the hand of a stoic. — • And whence, it may justly be asked, can be derived a more powerful persuasive in favour of content, (which is the essence of happiness,) than from a consideration of the nearly equal distribution of it amongst the whole human race? That this position of a nearly equal share of felicity is no chimaera will, I trust, be admitted by every one who thoroughly examines it at all points, and considers it in every view, Arguments deduced from actual 30 [Chap. iii. pleasure and pain, if we attentively consider those sen- sations, suggest reasons to confirm the supposition. Let us trace things to their very source. Pain, which is in many cases the strongest of those two sensations, diminishes in a certain ratio, proportioned to the time it has been endured, by the very constitution of nature. This is not only the case in the more slight and com- mon instances, in the little inconveniences of life, but even in such as strike with horror at the bare mention of them. As a proof of it may be urged a memorable circumstance relating to one of the most striking ex- amples of pain that the rigor of law could inflict, in the execution of a notorious criminal in France ; # whp, after he had sustained part of the dreadful pu- nishment denounced against him, was asked a few- questions relating to the pain he had felt. Among other particulars of his answers is one which has an intimate connexion with the present argument. He declared that, even under this most intense circum- stance of misery, after he had been some little time in torture, his sense of pain became by degrees so lan- guid, as in a great measure to diminish the rigor of his sentence. But lest my gentle reader should be shocked at the cruelty of the example here given, I will dismiss it, and observe that every situation in nature is preg- nant with such proofs. As the hands become hard with labor, the body and mind both grow callous and * Mandrin, a famous smuggler, who was broke on the wheel for murder and other crimes. — A sentence, which he bore with a fortitude that would have done honor to innocence. Chap. lit;] 31 insensible to pain : a circumstance which tends to al- leviate the sufferings of the miserable in every degree, by a peculiar blessing of nature. I have chosen to speak chiefly of pain, as it appeared to me the stronger instance of sensation : not but that pleasure, which is the immediate point in question, would have equally answered the purpose of conviction. The sweetness of honey, when first it is tasted, is exquisite ; but re- peated doses of it at last become palling and nauseous. There are certain bounds of pleasure and pain which cannot be passed or continued in their intensity : when arrived at those degrees, they stop, and gradually die away. So much being premised, we may draw a conse- quent inference, too obvious to be denied, as the plea- sures of body and mind in such manner represent each other, as to admit of the same arguments and observa- tions.— -The conclusion I mean is, that however flat- tering the state of one man appears to another who is less distinguished by the favors of Fortune, or more involved in the hurries and business of life, yet it by no means follows that the former is happier than the lat- ter. Business employs the load of time; wants are the forerunners of wishes, and wishes of enjoyment. The most elevated station, the most extensive posses- sions, the most exalted glory, which is the Elysium of heroes, pall and fade at last. The king on his throne surfeits with honor: he, that has all earthly blessings at his command, has no more left to covet and raise his hopes : like Alexander, he finds that one world's 32 [Chap. Hi. extent will not fill up his wishes; It is not the nature of our constitution to keep up an even and constant zest for enjoyment ; and the more intense the pleasure is, the sooner the fibres of sensibility are broken. It must be allowed, that a transition from a present to a more desired state constitutes a short-lived happi- ness; but it is at the commencement of our change we must expect it. Afterwards we drop from the summit of our wishes, as from a high tower, measur- ing our fall by the degree of impatience with which we soared to our desires. Happiness, then, is content under another name. Without it, a man cannot be happy ; and with it, it is impossible he should be miserable. A consideration of this truth (though it is not expected it should pre- vent us from snatching at every little innocent whim that floats within our reach) is a strong argument for resisting inordinate and unattainable desires, which, like a vulture, prey continually on the vitals of the ambitious and restless . # If human nature requires sometimes a recreation, to keep off a general stagna- tion and torpor, we should marshal and discipline our desires, and direct them in their career. Custom is a potent master, and the powers and functions of body and mind, by a little perseverance, will submit to its control. * Nam petere imperium quod inane 'st, nee datur unquam, Atque in eo semper durum sufferre laboreui, Hoc est adverso nixantem trudcre nuonte Saxum ~— — Lucret. lib. UL Chap. iii.\ 33 Had men of letter* in the several ages of the world been duly sensible of this one truth, the nearly equal distribution of happiness, such a confusion of systems had never been introduced, as the philosophers have formed, in their pursuit after that one great object of human wishes. School had not been set up against school, and system against system. The Stoic had not preached up apathy, as the only means of attaining it, and the Epicurean sensual delights. Cooler reason had reigned among men, and common sense been the stand- ard of truth and touchstone of absurdity. Content, which is essential happiness, would have continued in their steady course those whose ill-judged and over- weening expectations led astray after such a share of it as no situation in life will afford. Ambition, the Fury that stirs up envy and contention, would not have urged on the restless and greedy minds of selfish men to invade the property of an envied neighbour. The shepherd would have been pleased with his flock, and the lord of one kingdom satisfied without aspiring after universal monarchy, and sometimes purchasing to him- self the mortification of disappointment. The noblest gift of heaven is content. Riches and honor are but the flattering promisers of what content alone can give. Viewed through the medium of con- tent, kings and peasants are seen on a level, and the cot suffers no diminution when set by the side of the crown. The one is not despised, nor the other envied : but they are equally coasidered as accompanied with fheir share of felicity,. 34 [Chap. Hi. He never wants who never wish'd for more : Who ever said an anchoret was poor? But, after all, if happiness is so easily to be attained, why will not every one purchase it at the price of his ambition? — Alas! prejudice is blind, and passion is strong. Men are with difficulty persuaded out of no- tions interwoven with their constitutions. It is easy to form an untinctured mind, but not easy to dispossess it of the strong garrison of early prejudice, which, as a lawless tyrant, rules and directs the actions and opini- ons. But though there are few who can be persuaded out of their favourite notions, the felicity of content may not be disputed. Some have actually felt the force of it, which others have not been able to con- ceive. Even should the advocate of content himself, the dictating moralist, by his unbridled wishes give the lie to his doctrine, content is still the same only parent of happiness it ever was, and no substitute whatever can be found to represent it. Weighty and natural as this truth is, it will seldom convert ; and the precepts that enjoin it are looked on as the rust and rubbish of chimerical morality. Regard- ing desires which rest on probability as the principal sources of pleasure, men will not remember that un- reasonable longings are the parents of pain. I will therefore dismiss my preaching, and not farther en- cumber a simple truth with needless remarks on it, lest the dull clothing it wears should contribute to scare away those who might otherwise be tempted to em- brace it Chap. iv.~] 35 CHAPTER IV On Higotry. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight : His cann't be wrong, whose life is in the right. Pope. There is not on earth a blessing which the per- verseness of man has not, at times, converted to a curse. Religion itself; which derives its birth from heaven, and is intended to perfect what Nature has laid the foundation for, has, among other things, by peculiar blindness and obstinacy, been often pressed into the service of murderers, cheats, and debauchees. # * Literally so. Under the first of these denominations may be comprised the herd of persecutors. Oracular priests have some right and title to the second appellation of cheats : and Bacchana- lians, and the more modern sects, who keep their love-feasts, or agapai, are to be considered as under the third distinction of de- bauchee*. — A hopeful tribe, indeed, to ^race the cause of religion ! D 2 36 [Chap. w. The greatest ornament of humanity is a propensity to universal charity and benevolence : it is the noblest instinct Nature has given us, the great foundation whereon all other virtues are to be built, and the only proper standard by which we must estimate them. The first object, then, which religion, as the assistant of nature, ought to have in view, after gratitude to the divine Author of our being is satisfied, is to perfect this universal love, to harmonise and attune the soul to its accents, and extend its influence over the whole human race. The great aim of religion being thus defined, what ideas must a rational man entertain of the bigoted, persecuting, uncharitable, sectaries, that disgrace that noble principle, by assuming its sacred name and au- thority ? Rather than esteem them as having perfected and exalted the human condition above its natural stan- dard, he must reflect on them as degrading it to a level with the brute creation, whose proper province it is to ravage and destroy. Were it, indeed, the business of religion to generate no- thing but malice and cruelty, it would be a hopeful assist- ant to human weakness. The common abuse and misap- plication of the passions, when men are not incited by external and adventitious causes to animosity and strife, are sufficiently destructive of peace and harmony, with- out adding fuel to flame. The sum of religion being comprised in gratitude to God, and love to mau^ it can never be the will of the Deity, that the latter di- vision of it should be given up to shew a zeal for the Chap, iv.] 37 former : nor can it be supposed that he created, in or- der that man might persecute and destroy the work of his hands. Yet, absurd as this picture of religious zealots may appear, it is an exact caricature of the pious murderers who have enlisted under the banner of religion. Modes of faith, and exterior forms of worship, are but the connexions and bands by which religion is com- pacted, and the frame or outward shell in which the more sacred and essential part is deposited ; an acci- dental ornament, but no necessary and indispensable adjunct. He, therefore, that pleads the cause of ex- ternals as equally a duty with the pure and simple parts of worship, sets up the shadow in competition with the substance, and dishonors the cause he professes to serve. Religion receives no sanction from rites, but rites are consecrated by religion, which are no farther proper than they contribute to its advancement. To suppose that the Deity requires as indispensable, and regards as important, what in the bare eye of reason, and to a moderate share of understanding, appears trivial and idle, is derogatory from his wisdom, and a far greater affront to his glory, than to banish for ever every species of ceremony from his worship. But to persecute and torment others on these accounts ; to imprison and slay, to hate and detest, our fellow-crea- tures, for not adopting the same precise form of words in their oaths of fidelity and expressions of homage to their great Superior; and to shelter our cruelty under the sanction of his sacred will : is treason against 38 [Chap. iv. his divine nature and undesigned blasphemy. The great object of our adoration is but one, and every form in which he beholds his worshipper is accepted, when sanctified by purity of intention and an upright heart. # As it is the characteristic of superstition to set up the pageantry of religion in opposition to the essence, it may, with a degree of propriety, be termed idola- try. Wherein can be the difference, whether we worship and adore images, which are the works of our hands, or idolise and doat on the inventions of our brain P If gratitude to himself, and love to one an- other, be all the Deity requires at our hands, to re- move those virtues, in order to give place to our own fond conceits, is actual idolatry. If we examine into the characters of bigots in ge- neral, far from finding them to be persons of greater virtues than others, we can see in them nothing that is amiable and laudable. Than these exists not a more disagreeable and odious tribe ; and in such a soil gene- rally flourish the more ignoble passions, whose growth, * Quin damns id superis, de magna quod dare lance Non possit magni Messallac lippa propago ; Conpositum jus fasque animi, sanctosque recessus Mentis, et incoctum generoso pectus honesto ? Hsec cedo ut admoveam templis, et fane litabo. Persius, sat. ii, Animadverto enim etiam deos ipsos non tarn accuratis adoran- tiurn precibus, quam innocentia et sanctitate, laetari ; gratiorem- que existimari qui delubris eorum puram castamque mentem, quam qui meditatum carmen, intulerit, Plhi. pancg. Chap. iv.~] 39 with respect to our neighbours, by virtue's laws, de- mand to be curbed, and not encouraged. It is ob- servable that these animals are, some ill-natured, others covetous, others suspicious, others revengeful, others envious and spiteful, and all obstinate and perverse, rigid and unyielding. But prejudice is blind : could it but see truth and propriety, view things in their ge- nuine colors, and discover its own deformity, it would be no longer prejudice. # It is not enough for the heated zealot that he alone enjoys his peculiar notions and customs : his fury hur- ries him farther, and he discards the virtues of religion, meekness, charity, and universal love, which are the sweetest incense man can offer at the altar, to make room for the apish quackery of superstition. He is not content alone to fall prostrate before the idol him- self has set up, but he must compel others to partake ill his idolatry. The numerous evils distempered zeal has given birth to in the world, at many different periods of time, are not unknown to any one the least conversant in history. They piously murdered, and piously tortured, the meek and conscientious professors of harmless opinions. It was for the glory of God that Calvin plotted the death of Castalio, because he dissented from his ridiculous absurdities ; and for the glory of God the persecuting * Nihil enim in speciem fallacius est quarn prava religio. Ubi deorum numen praetenditur sceleribus, subit aniinos timer, ne, fraudibus humanis vindicandis, divini juris aliquid immi>tum vio learns, Cons* ap. Liv, dec. 4. 40 [Chap. iv. Catholics spread ravage and desolation among the no- blest of his works, the upright and innocent, whose meekness would not even suffer them to make a just resistance to their unfeeling tormentors. The subject of these complaints is not become stale, if we want recent instances of religious barbaritv, we need but give a glance at some neighbouring kingdoms, to see it in all its blackness. Poland presents us with a scene of inexpressible confusion : natives of the king- dom, undutiful and rebellious children, tearing up the bowels of their mother country ; and their unhappy sovereign, unable to heal these divisions, ready to fly for protection to a neighbouring kingdom. In Spain and Portugal we have been in our times entertained with the cruelties of an Inquisition ; and the cloven tongues of the Holy Ghost have been impiously coun- leneitea by flames of real fire. Supposing we were to grant that religion allowed severity to compel men to come in, provided they could thereby effect their purpose of making converts ; yet it is not to be imagined that those who have withstood all the artillery of their arguments can be moved by an exertion of their rage and malice. Such a carriage to their disciples could only be productive of hypocrisy and insincerity. The opinions of a man are not under his control : he cannot change them as a chameleon changes his skin. What is not in his power, he can never be accountable for; and bare professions are of no weight or value. We may add to these reasons the perverseness of party spirit, which is only increased by the attempts of compulsion* Chap. iv.~] 41 There are, on the contrary, advocates for ceremony as a subordinate part of religion ; as a form in which it should be seen and known ; as proper to entice and assemble such for its votaries as would not other- wise, through slowness of apprehension, have disco- vered its residence ; and as conducing to confirm the minds of those who are enlisted in its service. With them I readily concur. The undiscerning minds of the vulgar are not sufficiently refined to relish the sen- timental and pure dictates of religion without exter- nals : something striking and visible must be adopted, which is brought down on a level with their capacities. What they do not comprehend can never please them * and what does not please them will not usurp their attention. But force must not be allowed a share in our schemes, any more than the laws require in the administration of justice. Externals then, with persons of judgement, are to be considered only as instruments or assistants of reli- gion, not as actually a constituent part of it. Under that view they are tolerable, useful, and in some cases necessary. But as punctilios in our behaviour one to- wards another, mere compliments of politeness, are not honored with the name of friendship, so neither are ceremonies in religion dignified with the appella- tion of religion; but they should be used or neglected, curtailed or increased, as the caprice of mankind and the situation of a people are judged to require. I have been the more particular in reflexions thai must be obvious to any person of sense, on account of 42 [Chap. iv. the great prevalence of religious prejudice and animo- sity amongst some men of genius and learning, who have, to the disgrace of both religion and learning, espoused the cause of persecution, vainly supposing, diat, while they were the authors of misery and death to those of a different opinion, they were laying the foundation of life and felicity for themselves. And however often such remarks have been echoed by different writers, the dignity of the subject claims all the attention that has been paid to it, as a point of moment in the manners of a nation. It is true, actual persecution by fire and sword is not in fashion in our happy country ; but the seeds of it still remain in the breast of many a bigot, and need only the fostering care of public encouragement to bring them to matu- rity. Secret hatred, private malice, is still rankling at the heart, and ready to spread its venom where want of opportunity now denies it access. Want of oppor- tunity to exercise vice, when the intention is not want- ed, is not to be pleaded in excuse. If the intention of a man is set on mischief, he has already virtually in- curred that guilt which external circumstances alone prevented. Could we view his heart, we should dis- cover in it the hideous train of forms, slaughter and bloodshed, stripes and tortures, # pictured in their pro- per colors, and threatening to break out of their con- * Neque frustra praestantissimus sapiential [Plato, de repub.] firmare solitus est : si recludantur tyrannorum mentes, posse as- pici laniatus et ictus ; quando ut corpora verberibus, ita saevitia, libidine, malis consultis, animus dilaceretur. Tacit.' AutmL U 6. Chap, iv.] 43 finement, as did the evils from Pandora's box, to an™ noy mankind. With double care ought every attempt to introduce the Romish religion among us to be opposed. To stop their progress, it were even justifiable, as it would be for the good of mankind, to use a reasonable seve- rity to those who should dare to propagate their no- tions, as they are to be considered in some respects as criminals. The treatment they unjustly shew to per- sons of a different communion might, with propriety, be retorted on them. From the late dispersion of the Jesuits over Europe, alarms were raised in the minds of several, and fears that their endeavours and insinuations would meet with success : but let us hope, for the honor of our nation, that their tenets have too odious an appearance ever to gain proselytes among us. And if they are seen in their native and genuine characters, they certainly must make that odious appearance, as they not only perse- cute in order to favor their advances, but teach their disciples to do the same, as a tenet of their religion. 44 [Chap. v. CHAPTER V. On Deistical Publications. It is requisite that the mad multitude be restrained by the rear of the gods. Flows. For scant of' reason tempts the wat'riog mind. Lucrct. Tn ouch I all along* profess myself a friend to free- dom in opinions, I yet am led to think there are certain instances of discovering that freedom, which may be of dangerous tendency when they come under the notice of weak, unsettled, minds. A caution of this kind may not improperly be recommended to those writers who have taken upon them the task of examining and exploding the established religion of their country. That a man is entitled to the privilege of thinking and examining for himself, before he gives his assent to any point in debate, is indisputable, and none but a Chap v.] 45 bigot would go about to deny it. It is not only no crime, but the duty of a reasonable being, to exercise the talent he has received, and improve his understand- ing; and if his own reflexion informs him that what is palmed on him as a divine truth gives the lie to his reason, he must be weak indeed to slight what ought to be his strongest conviction. The most strenuous advocates for the wildest scheme of doctrine that ever was formed have some recourse to reason as the con- ductor to the points they have undertaken to support, and appeal to it as the higher tribunal. We have all imaginable cause, then, to consult this guide, and not the shadow of a plea why we are to reject its remon- strances. The medicine is avowedly good; but it is best in the hands of a skilful physician. Supposing it even a misfortune to entertain notions repugnant to established doctrines, (as I have already observed,) that can never be imputed as a crime which is not in our power. The opinions of a man are not of his own making, any more than the face he bears about him. They are accidents arising from the circumstances he is beset with, which irresistibly com- pel his assent. To suppose that the Deity can be of- fended with what he cannot help, is to attribute to bin, a weakness and injustice which would be a blot in the character of a man. I will allow* our deists ihe full extent of this argument: I will make them every con- cession of this kind they can desire. They have a li- cense from the dictates of common s$i*se to think for themselves: but it does not follow, that they should 46 [Chap. v. propagate such opinions as would only tend to disturb the repose of a nation. The enemies of the Christian faith are particularly to blame, as it is a profession tending to promote no- thing but virtue and goodness, when perfectly under- stood, and received in its genuine spirit and meaning. The precepts of it recommend meekness, virtue, and universal benevolence, which are the soul of religion, as the most important duties required of its professors, and not as subordinate and trivial qualifications; in opposition to graceless and persecuting zealots : and if there are litigated points among its different sectaries, they are such as affect not morality, and had their rise in the blindness and obstinacy of mankind. The troubles attending a change in religion, grant- ing it in the power of deists to prove Christianity false, are not desirable objects of a nation's wishes : and sure I am, no better substitute could be composed, to humanise and correct mankind. Were Christianity re- plete with exhortations to hate and persecute for opi- nions ; to treat those that dissent from its doctrines with severity and malice ; or even not highly recom- mendatory of virtue, and a foe to vice ; it would be in- cumbent on every one with all his might to oppose its progress in the world. But no such charge can be brought against the most virtuous system of religion that ever was compiled ; a religion whose precepts al- low not even a competition between the life and virtue of its professors, but command to lose our existence rather than desert tlie cause for which we exist. Chap, v.] 47 I have elsewhere observed, that the minds of the ig- norant are not sufficiently refined to relish a merely sentimental religion. Deism is by much too simple to captivate their ideas. A form of religion is found ne- cessary, containing promises and threatenings in a par- ticular manner expressed, rewards and punishments in peculiar form denounced, and even ceremonies, reli- gion's apes, # as a part of the system recommended to their observance. On this account, not unwisely, did Origen assert the propriety of preaching eternal pu- nishment for the wicked, though such a doctrine, in his opinion, arraigned the justice of the Deity. None but a delicate mind, he was sensible, could be capable of delicate notions. The lower order of people, whose reason is a lamer guide to them than their passions, 1 as being rude and unrefined, are more to be influenced by hopes and fears excited by the apprehensions of di- vine and human justice, than charmed with the beauty and propriety of virtue. And this notion is reinforced by a precedent set by Nature herself, who has not cho- sen to entrust the care of a new-born babe to the com- mon humanity and reason of its parent, but has im- planted a passion extraordinary to secure its preserva- * Nulla res cfficacius multitudinem regit quam superstitio : alio fjuin irapoteus, sseva, mutabilis, melius vatibus quam ducibus suis paret. Q. Curt. I 4. t Quantunque debil freno a mezo il corso Animoso destrier spesso raccolga, Raro e pero che di ragione il morso JLibidinota furia adietro Volga. Ariosio, 48 [Chap. v. tion ; and even, with seeming cruelty, animated that passion by the pangs and throes of labor. # Together with the abolition of an established form, would follow the extinction of religion in general, in a great degree. When unruly tempers are once set free, they know no bounds to their career : Ask where's the north ? At York 'tis on the Tweed, In Scotland at the Orcades, and there At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where. If men are told that this or that is a mere human in- vention, and of no intrinsic value, they are too prone to regard the whole scheme of morality as an imposition. It is not safe to leave the formation of religion to the vulgar, who would make it square with their inclinati- ons, instead of correcting themselves by its precepts, and by these means the bridle would be taken away from every unruly affection. A mistaken freedom, contracted from a misconstruction of natural religion, would probably introduce amongst them a contempt for virtue itself. Like the dove, when they forsake the ark, they have no resting-place for the sole of their 4oot. But men are not so abandoned, not even the vi- ciously inclined, as readily to run counter to what they * Eri £e ta STsriTroVa;? yzvofxtva Travrsc ^uaXXev rtfrb'nv, c ow xai ret yj^txertf, hi XTTi