•; • ■ && v: Hi ma I y)^4 * | ALUMNI LIBRARY, * THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, & PRINCETON, N. J. J ■ ? .«. ji. .n, *fl/ .tatiSkJ^iO^- LIBEAEY OF THE Theoi > g i e a 1 Seminary, Case, Shelf, PRINCETON, N. J. " ■ lP Division ' jf <•*■< A Book, \v t L E y^fczSr'TZr //i K at '. fl< A FATHER TO HIS SON, ON VARIOUS TOPI-CS, RELATIVE TO Literature and the CondnSi of Life* -WRITTEN IN THE YEARS 1792. AND I 793, / By J. A I K I N, M. D. LIBER.! SEKSl SEMPLICE PARQLE. PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED FOR MATTHEW CAREY, Br James Carey, 179$ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://www.archive.org/details/lettersfromfatheOOaik CONTENTS. LETTER I. INTRODUCTORnp. 13 — lo- cation, its purpofes — Benefits of a copious and varied one — Oppofite plan cf our fchools and univerGties, whence derived — Advantage of an unfhackled fyftem cf life — PurpoTe of the fub- fequeat ferics cf letters. Lstteji II. On Strength of Charatter, p. 18. — Natural and moral procefs of acquiring it — Caufes of weaknefs, falfe mame — fear of of- fending — fear of giving pain — defire of pleat- ing all mankind — The writer's own experience. L-tter III. On Attachment to the Ancients, p. 24. — Prevalence cf tin's attachment— Mode cf determining the comparative merit of ancients and moderns — Man an improvable being Poetry — the deferiptive kinds — the higher fpe- cies — Reafona which have retarded its improye- A 2 Vi CONTENTS. ment — Veneration for the ancients, partly owing to their language being that of the Chriftian religion. Letter IV. The fame Subjecl continued, p. 31. — Philofophy of the human mind — Dead and living languages compared — Manners and in- stitutions — The flage — Caufes of prejudices in favour of antiquity — Education and its aflb- ciations — The merit of an author confounded with that of his work — the merit of a work, with its cafual value — Effects of a dead and foreign language — Purpofe of thefe rem arks. ER V. On the Purfuit of Improvement, p. <$Q» Declamations againft improvement, whence lg — their inconfiftency — Perfection molt able in civil inftitutions — Examination of the affertion that principles fpeculatively rights are practically wrong— rhilofcphy, what, and its merit:- — Sneering manner of oppoihig it— >U8 arguments againft it considered. Lstter VI. f)n the Love of Jpplaufe, exempli- fied in the younger Pliny, p. 46. — Pliny's epiftlea not familiar— their purpofe and character — 'Mo- ral effects of love of praife — Pliny a man of virtue — His literary vanity. Letter VII. On the Jory of Circe, p. 50.— Alb^oncal interpretations of Homer's fables Contents. v Of that of Circe — The fable conlidered — Ob- jections to its moral purpofe. Letter VIII. On Nature and Art, and tht Love of Novelty, p. 55. — The Englifli fchool of arts characterized — Novelty, the great requifite to amufement — Its fources, nature and art — Necefiity of introducing art — The true object of thofe called imitative — Exem- plified in the drama — Dramatic performances of different nations — Recitation of Englifh. verfe. Letter IX. The former. Subject continued, p. 63. — Poetical Language of Tragedy — Nature and purpofe of Paltoral poetry — Romances and novels — Doctrine of novelty fum- med up. Letter X. On Prejudice, Bigotry, Candour, and Liberality, p. 71. — Prejudice defined — Rea- fonable and unreafonable prejudices — Eigotry, its character — Candour, confounded with cha- rity — Falfe candour in judgment — Candour of temper-5-Liberality, diitinguiihed from indifference — Illiberal tenets — The words ex- emplified. r - Letter XI. On Religious Societies, p. 8c.—. On the character of fects — Religious focieties diflinguifhed from fects — Their genuine pur- a 3 I 1 CO R TENTS. pofes— Schifm — Condition and duty of a minifter. Letter XII. On Reply In Contrvnerjj, p. 87. — Story of Melandthon — Cafe when reply is vmneceiTary — Caufes which render it proper — the production of new argument, rnd mifreprefentation in matter of fael — The duty of individuals to refute charges againft them. Letter XIII. Oir CJqjJlficat'wn in Natural Htjhry, p. 92. — Natural progrefs of clailifying objects— -from differences, and from refein- blances — UTes and purpofes of arrangement — ■ Natural method — Artificial method — The Lin- nean fyftem. Letter XIV. On Buffbifs Natural Hifiory, p. ico. — Buffon charaelerifed — His principle of diminifhing the numbes of fpecies, by fuppoiing artincial varieties — how far probable — Effecls of Comeitication — Its various ilages — Moral qua- lities of animals. Letter XV. On Ornaiivnial Gardenings p. icS". — The character of Engliih gardening — EiTential idea of a garden — An appendage to a houfe, and therefore regular — The conftituent parts of an artificial garden confidered — How far the ap- pearance of art difgults— - Deceptions of modem CONTENT?. VU gardening — The two ftyles compared as to no- velty and variety. Letter XVI. On Pope's EJfay on Criticifm, p. 119. — A proper object of criticifm from its fubjeft — A truly juvenile performance — Its method — Remarks on particular pafTages, relative to, The critical profefiion — memory, under {landing, and imagination — following na- ture — imitating the ancients — beauties not re- ducible to rule — clalTical writers — the cha- racter of wit — verification — identity of'mufic and poetry — cenfure of admiration — of impiety. Letter XVII. On the Analogy between Mental and Bodily Difeafe, p. 135. — General refem- blance of difeafes of body and mind in the means o£ cure — Operation of contraries, and coercive motives — Practical application of the doctrine of neceffity — Cafe of one brought up in vice, in the lowed clafs — in the higher — Vices of certain ftates of fociety — Great remedial prcce^s^Ncceility of calamitous events. Letter XVIII. On Spleen and Low Spirits, p. 153. — Frequency of this malady — Green's poem on the Spleen — Neceffity of temperance in preventing low fpirits — Benefit of employment — proper kinds of — Misfortune of high rank in this refpect. Vlll CONTENT?. Letter XIX. On Confolaiion, p. 150.— To whom the office profeflional — The real caufe of forrow on the death of friends — A felfifh emo- tion, meafured by the lofs — Subftitution the only remedy — Particular confutation to widowers — widows — parents. Letter XX. On the Inequality of Condi!'.:-.:, p. 159. — View of a great city — How far inequality is necefTary — Human fociety founded en the eiTential qualities of man — Its necefTary confequences— ^Purpofe of good government, to cheek natural inequality — Abolition of do- meflic flavery in Europe — The lower clafles not fo wretched as they feem — Real evils attend- ing them, divided into necefTary and cafual — - The latter the proper objects of remedy — The probable mode. Letter XXI. On the Prevalence of Truth, p. 169. — Limitations of the maxim that truth will prevail— Falfe opinions founded on hopes and fears infeparable from man — Supentition ftiH prevalent, and, perhaps, gaining ground — le of arguing by which it is fupported — The fame applied to religious fyllems— Certain kinds of religious opinions likely to continue popular — Preparations necefTary for the recep- tion of truth — How far truth is likely to prevail - — Its benefits. CONTENT?. 2X Letter XXII. On Second Thoughts end N'.J- die Courfes, p. 179. — In what fenfe fecond thoughts are beft — Firft impreffions moil to be depended on in queftions of moral conduct — Sophiftry of the Jefuits — Firft decisi- ons of reafon alfo frequently the foundeft — Oti what thefe differences depend — When the middle way is not the fafeft — Mifchiefs of corr.promife. Letter XXIII. On the principal faults of Po- etical Trarflatkn, p. 187. — Purpcfe of translation, to pleafe, and to inform — Accommodations lieceffary in tranflating — Dangerous latitude of addition allowed by Dr. Jehnfon— & Odyiley — The different ideas of royalty in different ages, a principal fource of faulty traj u ■- tion — ex^.; ; in the tranflation of the Cdyffey — Excels of ornament — Lxrg:;cr^tion end hyper- bole — Effect cf rhyme — Criterion of transition. Letter XXIV. On Ruins, p. 199, — The plca- fure derived from them, a modern idea— - Ruins confidered as objects of fight — their value as relics of beautiful architecture—- their pi&urefque effjcls— Confldercd as fenti- mental objects — what aSbciations favourable to this purpofj— Confidered as historical records. Lett b r XXV. Remark en an Argument in favour of the reality cf Spectral Appearances, p. 2c8. — « Nature of Dr. Johnfon's credulity — Pafiage f'om X CONTENTS. Raffelas — In what cafes univerfaKty of belief, no argument — Conceptions neceffarily formed of departed fpirits — Gau'fes of delufion — Variations cf fpedlral appearances — Vifion and reality con- founded — Varieties of form and cireumflance. Letter XXVI. tin Cheap Pkafures, p. 217. — Love of pleafure allowable — Advantages from a reliih for the moft procurable — The fources of thefe enumerated — Books — Converfation — The ftudy of nature — A tafte for the external beauties cf nature — The ornamental arts. Letter XXVII. On Attachment to Country, p. 229. — Patriotifm an early paiTicn^— its ten- dency to excels — Attachment to country as it influences opinions — erroneous eflimates cf our country's merits, proceeding from pride and va- nity — errors cf difiike — Conduct how influenced by attachment to country, and to individuals — migration of friendo. Letter XXVIIl. On Independence, p. 238. — . Limits of independence — Advantages of it — Whiilon and Steele — Horace — Mode of acquiring independence — Not owing to abfolute fituation in life — Its true fources, moderate defires, and active induflry — Ancient philofophcrs, and Chriflian afcetics, compared — Independence does not require the rejection of favours — How far it is ufeful to contract our wifhes, CONTENTS, %1 Letter XXIX, On the Choke of a Wife, p. 248. — Peculiar propriety of parental advice in this matter — Ground of difference of opinion between fathers and fons — The main qualities requifite in a wife, thofe of a companion and a helper- Good fenfe and good temper, the effentials— Defects of each without the other — Additional qualifications of a helper — Houfewifery — Vigour of body and mind — calls for both in a female— Perfection of female character the fame with that of male — Mifchief of hafly engagements — Fortune and family connexions. Letter XXX. Valediclory, 259. — Chief pur- pofe of the preceding letters — Final admom% tions. LETTERS FROM A FATHER TO HIS SON. LETTER I. INTRODUCTORY To A. A. Y< O U have row, my dear fon, nearly fmimed an education which has been conducted upon a plan beft adapted, according to my judgment, to the prefent ftate of things, and to the fituation you are deftined to occupy. It has been a varied and cxtenfive plan, comprifing many changes of dis- cipline, and embracing a large field of inilrutlion. It has, I hope, prepared you both for active and contemplative life ; for the ftudy of books, and of men and nature. It has, I fay, prepared you ; for the education of the youth can only be prepa- ratory to the purfuits of the man ; and he who is B J 4 L E T T L R I. bed enabled, from a eomprehenfive view of the objects before him, to poffefs himfelf of tbofe which are moil worthy of his choice, is beft educated. For this reafon, I am not afraid of the cenfure ufually paffed upon a copious fcheme of early in- Uruaion.— that it is calci-rlated rather to make fmafterers in every thing, ' than proficients in any thing. Let but a folid foundation be laid of thofe elemental parts of learning which employ the me- mory when that is the only faculty in full vigour, and it is immaterial how fiight is the fuperftrurture firft erected. I would wifh it rather to refemble the fcafiblding of a great building, than the finiihed model of a f nail one. Befides that almoft all the branches of knowledge have a mutual connexion and dependence ; it is the only way of pre- -\ eiitlng narrow prejudices in favour of any one, at the fame time to aiTord a profpect of feveral, and alternately to excrcife the mind upon each. As reafoning confifls in the comparifon of ideas, the underftaudrng cannot be furaifhed with too large a Hare to work upon. Nor need it be ap- prehended that confufion will arife from the early mixture of a variety of objects in the mind ; or that the time ufually allotted for education will prove iufufticient for acquiring the principles of general knowledge. The phyfical character of the mental and bodily frame in youth, is an aptitude for various exertions, but an impatience of conffiefles judgment enough to exhibit each in its purity. Bat with refpeft to the higher fpecics of poetical compofitiens, there can be no poiiible reafon to fuppofe that excellence in them will be the growth of an early iiage of civilization, or that it will not in general keep pace with other choice products of the mind in their progrefs toward* perfection. Uniformity of defign will net exift before accuracy of conception, — beauty of arrangement before a jult fenfe of order, — propriety of {election, before the principle of congruity,— ftrength aad delicacy of lentiment, before a habit of abftract thinking, — fplendour of diction, before the large and varied ufe of language. Unlefs, therefore, it were in the power of native genius to overcome impombilities, we mould never expect to fee a capital work, com- bining all the excellencies of plan, imagery, and fentiment, and at the fame time free from grcfo defects, produced in an uncultivated age, or by an illiterate author. But, however probable the progrerfive improve- ment of poetry may appear in theory, it will be faid, that its actual progrefs has not correfponded with this fuppofition. For this, however, various caufes may be afiigned, and efpecially the following. Some works of extraordinary merit, and peculiarly calculated to become popular, appeared at an early period, and obtained fuch a high degree of admira- tion, that they became models in their refpe&fve ATTACHMENT TO THE ANCIENTS. 20. kinds, and reftricted all fubfequent efforts of genius to mere imitation. Thus, from the time of Homer, epic poetry became an artificial composition, whofe rules were in reality drawn from the practice of the Grecian bard, rather than from the principles of nature. Lyric and dramatic poetry were in like manner fixed, though at a later peiiod, by Grecian models ; fo that the Roman writers of fimilar per- formances could not be faid to bring am their own to their works. The fame (hack imitation have hung upon the poetry of modern Eu- rope ; whence a fair comparifon of the powers and genius of different periods is rendered fcarcely prac- ticable. The leading fpecies of poetry, like the orders of architecture, have come down to us fub- ject. to certain proportions, and requiring certain, ornamental accompaniments, which perhaps have had no foundation whatever but the cafual practice of the earlieft mailers ; nay, poiubly, the whole ex- igence of ibme cf the fpeciec has had the lame accidental origin. Meantime, the veneration fcr the ancients has been railed to the higher! pitch by this perpetual reference to them as models ; and it has been con- cluded, that works which have engaged the itudv, and called forth the imitation of fo many fucceeding ages, mult poifefs a faprcme degree of excellence* But after all, their reputation may have been much more owing to accident than is commonly fuppofed. That the Greciaa poets, continually recording the C 3 5° LETTER III. deeds of their countrymen, and offering inccnfe to the national vanity, mould have been held in high efteem at home, was natural. That the Remans, receiving all their literature from Greece, fiiculd adopt its principles and prejudices, was alfo to be expected. But that they mould tranfmit them to fo large a portion of tne civilized world, ami this, not only during the period of their domination, but to new races of men, fo many centuries after the downfal of their empire, muft be reckoned accident, as far as any thing in human affairs can be called accidental. Had not the Chriftian religion eftab- liihed a kind cf fecond Roman empire, even more capable of fwaying the opinions of mankind than the full, it is highly improbable that we mould at this day have been commenting upon the clafilcsl writers cf Greece and Rome. It is, indeed, afconimmg to reflect, by what a ftrange concatenation of caufe and effect, the youth of Chriflian Europe mould be in- ilructed in the fables of Greek and Latin mythology, which were fallen into contempt even before Rome ceafed to be heathen. It certainly has not been on account of their wifdom and beauty that they have furvived the wreck of fo many better things. They have been embalmed in the languages which con- tained them, and wiv'ch, by becoming likewife the depofit cries of Ghriftian docliine, have been ren- dered {acred languages* But it is time to giv^ you a little refpite. ( 3i ) LETTER IV. THE FORMER SUBJECT CONTINUED. A ROM the tenor of my laft letter, you have, doubtlefs, perceived the intended application of my argument a priori. And without hefitation I avow that the fuppofition that any kind of in- tellectual product will not partake of the general improvement of the mind, under fimilar circum- ftances, appears to me perfectly unphflofophical. While, then, it is acknowledged that modern times, in extent and accuracy of knowledge, have far furpafTed thofe periods which ought rather to be regarded as the Infancy than the antiquity of the world, I cannot fee why the moralift, the meta- phyiician, the hifiorian, the critic, the orator, and the poet, too, mould not be benefited by the progtefs. Horace has faid, " that the (burce of good writing is good fenie ;" and what is this, but the refult of reafon operating upon experience ? It may, indeed, be urged, that there are certain- topics, upon which, after men in a ftate of civili- sation have once begun to think, little additional knowledge can be gained by experimental cr fci- 32 L E T T E R IV. entlfic procefTes ; and the philofcphy of the human mind may be given as an inftance. Every man bearing about him, and viewing round him, the fubject of this kind of invefligation, no length of time or foreign aid feems wanting to enable him to carry it as far as his faculties will permit. And it is probably true, that fcarcely any points of moral and metaphyseal fpeculation efeaped the acute refearch of the numerous Grecian fchools which devoted their whole attention to ftucies of this kind ; nor at the prefent day do many of thefe points feem nearer being fettled than they were two thoufand years ago. Yet, n the ancients treated them with as much fubtility and ingenuity as the moderns, the latter will, I believe, be ge- nerally allowed to have excelled in clearnefs of arrangement , and folidity of argumentation ; fo that where certainty is not now attained, there is preat reafon to fuppofe it unattainable. And I can fcarcely conceive, that many perfons, after mailing themfelves mailers of the modern theories refpeclmg the mind, will think it worth while to retrace the labyrinth of anclc?u vd^hv/ic. The limitation I made of the fuperiority of modern writers to cafes in which the circunificr.ccs were Jlmlldr^ would probably be made much ufe of by a zealot for antiquity, who would attempt to fhew, that the language, manners, and institu- tion* cf the ancients gave them, in a variety of inflances, peculiar advantages ever the mcd.rns. ATTACHMENT TO THE ANCIENTS. $$ As to language, however, let the intrinfic pro- eminence of the Greek and Latin be placed ever fo high, Hill, with refpect to us, they are dead lan- guages, in which we could not read a fentence (o as to be underftood, or write a fhort compofition fo as not to be ridiculed, by an old Greek or Roman. I am far from charging with affectation thofe who fall into raptures with the verfificatioH cf Virgil and Horace, or the numerous profe cf Plato and Cicero. I am pervaded that by long attention they have brought themfelves to a per- ception of fomewbat excellent, though it be a different thing from the real excellence. But can it be doubted, that the fame attention paid to one's own, or another living language, the true pronun- ciation and all the delicacies of which may with certainty be known, will afford at leaft as folid and rational a pleafure ? Language and modes of thinking have a clofe connexion with each ether ; and where the latter become more accurate and methodical, the former muft neceiTarily improve in force and precifion. New ideas muft likewife require new words ; as knowledge, therefore, ad- vances, languages muft become richer, and that, not only in direct terms, but in figurative and al- lullve expreffions. The former is an advantage in accuracy, the latter in eloquence : and it would be a vain attempt to transfufe into claffical Greek and Latin, the clofe argumentation of a Hume, and the excurfive rhetoric of a Burke. 34 L E T T E R IV. "With regard to the changes which manners and inilitutions have undergone, though this may, in fome few inftances have rendered modern times lefs favourable, fehau the ancient to certain ftudies, as particularly thofe to which great emulation was formerly attached by means of public rewards and applaufes, yet this came cannot have operated to any considerable extent upon literature in general. There can never want motives to excel in what is truly valuable ; and though the fpecies of en- couragement may vary, the effect will be fimilar. If oratory among the ancients had more fcope at the bar, wi;.h u: it has more m the icnate ; aaad that of the pulpit is an entirely new creation. If the plaudits of afTembled Greece were animating in a high degree to dramatic attempts, thofe of a modern theatre, enforced by the folid benefits of a third night, are fcarcely lefs fo : — though I do not mean to inilance the theatre as one of the bell fchools of tafle ; but neither was it in the age of Auguftus. Horace, you know, complains that, even among the knights, pleafure had migrated from the ears to the eyes ; and the Roman ft age might at leaft vie with thofe of the Kaymarket and Covent Garden, in prccefiions and triumphs. Nay, I cannot but fufpect, that in the rooft brilliant times of Greece, the choruffes and the whole jeu dc theatre were more addreiTed to the love of extraor- dinary fpe&acles in a wondering populace, than to the judgment of fober critics. ATTACHMENT TO THE ANCIENTS. 35 But I (hall not farther purfue comparifons be- tween particular kinds of literary productions, at different periods. My purpofe was rather to fug- ged general principles of judging, which might ferve as a counterpoife to the prepoileffions ufually entertained on thefe fubje&s. In conformity with this defign, I mall conclude my letter with fome remarks on the caufes which have foflered an un- reafonablc attachment to the writers of antiquity. Education has been the primary fource of thefe prejudices. For many centuries, all the literary characters in Europe hafre been fed and nurtured with the dailies, and have employed the bed years of their lives in attempting to undeiTtand and imitate them. AfTociations thus cemented, are fcarcely ever to be dilTolvcd. Every fentiment of the foul is mterefted in preferring them, and the praffion* rife up to defend the decrees of the judg- ment. Even the practical fciences, which ought to receive ieffons from every day's experience, have for ages been chained to the fchoois cf thefe early raafters. In my own profeffioh, how many writers cf real talents do I find, who hefitate to admit a cotemporary truth when eppofite to the authority of Hippocrates and Galen. At prefent, indeed, this fervitude is pretty well over in our country ; but learned foreigners ftiil take a great deal of unnecefTary and fruitlefs pains to reconcile the maxims of modern experience with the premature dictates of the fathers of phyfic. Pride concurs $6 L E T T E R IV. with prejudice in maintaining the value of what we have diilinguifhed ourfelves in acquiring ; and the credit of thofe acquisitions by which literary- honours are obtained, muft be fupported for the fake of the honours themfelves. This general imprefiion in favour of ancient li- terature, is iu; jecl co particular caufes of fallacious judgment. One of thefe is, the common practice of confounding the merit of the writer with that of his work ; as if fuperior abilities mould always produce fuperior performances. But though the inventor Hands higher in the fcale of genius than the improver, yet the workmanjttiip of the latter will in many refpects be mere perfect than that of the former. This is fufficiently obvious in pieces of mechanifm, and other works of mere utility ; where it would -^e thought a ftrange prejudice to prefer the original draught of the moll: ingenious artift, to the improved copy of his journeyman. And why mould not the fame obfervation apply to the mechanical parts, at leaft, fuch as the plan and difpofition, of a literary deiign ? Although the article of clafiical faith, that " Homer was the greatefl poet who ever exiiled," be admitted in its full extent, the general Superiority of the Iliad to the iSneid or Paradife Loll, will not follow as a legitimate confequence. Another deception is, confounding the merit of a performance with its cafual value. Every thing which conveys information of the manners and fen- ATTACHMENT TO THE AKCIENTS. 37 timents of a remote age, 13 a fit fubject for liberal curiofity ; and thofe remains of antiquity which abound in fuch information deferve the attentive ftudy of the philofopher as well as the ph'loleger. But this value, in many cafes, ariiVs more from the faults than the excellencies of a writer, whofe mi- nute details of common occurrences, or references to idle and extravagant fables, may deform his work as a production of genius, while they afford high gratification to the curious antiquary. Had Homer compofed another Iliad infiead of an Odyffey, he would probably have exhibited much more fablimity of conception, and grandeur of defcription, of both which the OdyiTey contains very faint traces : but we mould have loil a copious ftore of information concerning the arts and domeftic manners of that early period, which no other work could fupply. The circumftance of language comes under this head of extrinfic value. To trace the progrefs of men's ideas, by means of the expreilions in which they clothed them — to view terms derived from fenfible objects gradually transferred to intellectual norions, and iimple energies receiving their fucceflive modifica- tions — is highly interefting to the philofophic mind. Hence men of speculation have always been defirous of knowing a multiplicity of languages ; and they have read with eagernefs very inferior competitions, if transmitted in the tongue of a remote age. further : a foreign, and ftill moi-e, a dead lan- guage, never gives us its matter with exactly the D 38 LETTER IV. fame impreffions as we mould receive from it in our own. Many beauties are loft, but, in return, many- imperfections are concealed. And, in particular, the air of tritenefs and vulgarity which ever attends performances of inferior rank in our native language, is thrown off by allying the matter with words which can never be quite familiar to us. Many a moral fentiment which would make an ordinary figure in Englifh, ftrikes us with the force of a deep maxim in Latin or Greek, and dwells on our memory. This, indeed, is a real advantage arifing from the ftudy of thofe languages ; but it is not to be placed to the account of peculiar excellence in their writers. To what purpofe have I addreffed to you all thefe observations ? Moft certainly not to perfuade you to lay ande your favourite daffies, which, befides the foKd pleafure and inftruction they are capable of afrording you, are, in fome meafure, profeiTional objects of your ftudies. Indulge a liberal admiration of their excellencies. Imprint their beauties upon your imagination, and their morals upon your heart. But do not be feduced to. regard as models of perfection, what were only the experiments of early art — do not think that the powers of men have declined, while their advan- tages have increafed — and, above all, do not decide by ancient authority, what can be brought to the. fair teft cf modern reafon. Farewel ! ( 39 ) LETTER V. ON THE PURSUIT OF IMPROVEMENT. Y< OU have frequently, I quelHon not, been dif- gufted with the common cant employed againft all projects for improvement, " that perfection is a thing not attainable here below — that ever/ thing human mull: partake of the defe&s cf human na- ture — that it is a folly to aim at impofhbilities" — and the like. This language, which might with equal truth have been held at every ftage of human advancement, is therefore equally trivial in all ; and he who admits that it would have been an injury to mankind if ten centuries ago it had operated to difcourage attempts for improvement, can give no fuf&cient reafon why it would not be fo at the prefent day. If you confider the perfons from whom this (train of declamation proceeds, you will infallibly find it to have its origin in ignorance, weak.iefs, or fel£fn- nefs. Often in ignorance, the declaimer being nei- ther fofficfefltly informed of the prefent ftate of the arc or fcience to which he refers, nor dijfcernmg the means for its further advancement. Often in D 2 40 L E T T E R V. nveaknefs — want of energy of temper and force of underftanding to fupport a vigorous exertion. Oft- ener than all in felfijhnefs, when perfonal advan- tages are derived from prefent defects, which would be endangered by any attempts to amend them. Every generous and elevated fpirit will inculcate maxims directly the reverfe ; — that perfection is the point conftantly to be aimed at, whether attainable cr not ; and that no purfuit beneficial to mankind has hitherto been brought to a ilate in which it is incapable of further progrefs. This is admitted to be the cafe with refpect to perfonal advances in re- ligion and virtue, even by thofe who are the lead inclined to improvement in general — for it is af- ierted by authority, which they dare not contradict It is likewife readily acknowledged, with refpect to mofl of thofe arts and fciences, the free progrefs of which docs not oppofe the intereft of individuals. And it feems impoffible to affign a reafon why the fame maxims mould not apply to every fubject in which the human faculties are engaged, provided it does not relate to things manifestly beyond their reach. If perfection be any where attainable, it would feem to be peculiarly in thofe inflftutipRS which are the creatures of man — in which he has a fpecific end and purpofe in view, involving no wills or powers but his own — which are purely mat- ters of convention between man and man, that may be made whatever he choofes to make them. Such are all the regulations belonging to civil fociety. In PURSUIT OF IMPROVEMENT. 4. 1 thefe concerns, if the end be firft precifely bo 1 down, and if experience be faithfully confulted as to the fuccefs of different means > it is fcarcely pof- fible that continual progrefs mould not be made, as the world advances in reafon and knowledge, to- wards a perfect coincidence of means and end. You may probably have met with the affertion, that, " in the fcience of politics, all principles that are fpeculatively right, are practically wrong." This feiitence was the fally of a witty writer, wlw is much more diftinguifhed for faying lively things than foKd ones. Like other paradoxes, it will not bear examination* It carries a palpable contra- diction on its very face ; for in a practical fcience, the proof of the rectitude of its fpeculative princi- ples is only to be found in their agreement with practice. What fhould we fay of a fyitem of per- fpective, the rules of which gave every figure falfe and diflorted ; or a fyitem of menfuration, by which no one meafure turned out right ? The reafon af- iigned by the writer for the oppofition between principles and practice in the initance he adduces, is, that the principles are founded upo 1 the fuppo- fition that man a6ts reafonably — which he does not. This remark is evidently an ebullition of fplenetic fatire ; but were it juit v the legitimate conclufion would be, that the principles were erroneous ; far if man be really not a reafonable creature, th:y erred in representing ham as fufck To whatever gLafs be belongs it will not be denied that he is D 3 4 2 L E T t E R. V . actuated by motives; and thefe motives it is the great bufmefs cf thofe who plan fyflems of law and government to cifcover. Such fyflems alone can be fpeculatively as well as practically right ; and in them the theory can be no more at variance with the practice, than caufe with efFeft. The writer's affertion, therefore, is a mere fophifm, which I mould not have thought worthy cf refutation, had I not obferved it triumphantly repeated, as the ma- ture conclufion of a fage in worldly affairs, by per- fons who concur with him in a diflike to appeals to frjl principles in this and fome other matters. The truth is, they believe man to be poffelfed of more reafon than they are willing to allow, and it is his reafon lhat they are afraid of. To refolve things into their firfl principles is philofophy, the nobleft employment of the mind* and that which alone confers a title to real wifdom. Without a portion of it, the experience cf a long life may only ferve to accumulate a confufed mafs cf opinion, partly true, partly falfe, and leading to no ene certain conclufion. The want of a philofc- phic mind makes many men cf bufmefs mere plod- ders, and many men cf reading and even cf obferva- tion, mere retailers cf vague unconnected notions. Order, precifien, concatenation, aiiafyfis, are all the refults of pmlcfcphy. Yet even this word, as you mult, have remarked, as well as thofe of improve- ment and reformation, has been the fubject cf obloquy. It has been branded with the epiJiet cf PURSUIT OF IMPROVEMENT. 43 impious by the bigot, of arrogant by the cautious, and of viiionary by the dull. It has drawn down the anathemas of the ferious, and the ridicule of the light. Above all, it has been treated with that ironical fneer, which is fo common a refource to thofe who are . confcious of being deficient in argu- ment. " Thank heaven ! I am no philofopher ; I pretend not to be wifer than thofe who have gone before me. I do not boaft of the difcovery of new principles. I muft beg leave to retain my anti- quated notions, notwithstanding philofophers call them prejudices " Thefe flowers of polemical rhe- toric, which decorate (o many fermons, fpeeches, and effays, though they have loft the attraction of novelty, are yet of no fmall efficacy in fwaying tri- vial minds ; and the argumenium ad vcrecundiam to which they appeal, is apt to overpower unaiTumin v modefty. Such a ftrain of frothy infolence is belt difconceited by admitting it ferioufly as an honeft confeffion of inferiority. I would fay — " I Inow you are not a philofopher — I never took you for one — your education and habits of life have dif- qualified you from all pretenfions to the character — your opinions are mere prejudices, and do not merit a refutation." But if there be thofe who Bona jlde are afraid cf philofophy, becaufe very mifchievous doctrines have been propagated under its name, let them be told, that what they dread is only the ufe of reafon in a large way, and upon the moll important fub^ 44 LETTER 7. jeds ;* and that if, on the whole, we are better for the gift of reafon, though fame abufe it, we are like- wife better for afpiring to be philosophers, though fome falfely and for bad purpofes arrogate the title. A very common topic of railing againit philofophy, is the extravagant and contradictory opinions held by the ancient fchools of philofophers. But with whom ought they to be compared ? Not with thcfe who have been enlightened by direct revelation, but with the vulgar and bigots of their own times, who implicitly received all the abfurdities which fraud and fuperftition had foiiled into their fyflems of faith. If, by the efforts of unaided philofophy, out of a people thus debafed, could be raifed a Socrates, an Epiclietus, an Antoninus, what ho- nours fhort of divine, are not due to it ? Nor have its fervices to mankind in later ages been . much kfs confpicuous ; for not to infill on the great advance- ments in art and fcien^e which hsve originated from natural philofophy (fince they are quedioned by none), what man cf enlarged ideas will deny, that the philofophy cf the human mind, of lew, of commerce, of government, of mora!*, JBid, I will add, of religion, have greatly contributed to any fupc- riority this age may claim ever former periods ? If philofophy thus employed hath occafioned feme ' evils, a more corre£fc and diligent ufe of the fame -X- Hiijns opus unum eft, de divklis hiimarf.fque terum invenire. S::?tzc. PURSUIT OF IMPROVEMENT. 4£ will remove them. If erroneous conclufions have been drawn from a premature or partial induction of facts, they will be rectified by a future more ex- tensive induction. After all, no medium can pof- fibly be affigned between reafoning freely, and not reafoning at all — between fubmitting implicitly to any human authority, and to none. We are placed in this world with a variety of faculties, and of objects on which to exercife them. Doubtlefs, there are in nature limits which we cannot pafs ; but what man fhall prefume to mark them out for other men ? — what man fhall fay to his fellow-men, I permit you to exercife your reafcn upon thefe objects, but I forbid you from exercifing it on thofe ? Many, indeed, have fo prefumed ; but the friends of truth and mankind have ever re- filled their ufurped authority. For you, my dear Son, I do not apprehend that you will be backward in afferting the nobleft pre- rogative of man. Of all improvements, that of your own mind is of the moft confequence to you. It is likewife that the moil in your power, and in the purfuit of which you will be leafl liable to thwart the interefls and prejudices of others. Re- member, however, that the fureil mark of progrefs is a full perception of the difproportion between acquisitions already made, and thofe which remain to be made. Adieu ! ( 46 ) LETTER VI. OM the love of applause, exemplified in the YOUNGER PLINY. DEAR SON, I T has for fome years been my cuflom, after the perufal of an author, to note down the general im- preffions it left on my mind ; and this practice, rrhich I began as uieful to myfelf, I have followed with more attention, fmce I reflected that it might be rendered of fome utility to my children. It may therefore not unfrequently happen, that fuch re- marks aiford the fubject. of a letter ; and at prefent I mean to communicate to you my rejections on the elegant and inftructive Epiflies of Pliny. Dr. Johnfon's obfervations concerning the fallacy of the common notion, that a man lays open his mind without difguife in his familiar correfpond- ence, would be ftrikingly confirmed by thefe let- ters, provided they could properly be termed fami- liar. But though many of them are addrefTed to the moil intimate friends he had in the world, and relate to perfonal topics, yet as we know that they LOVE OF APPLAUSE. 4.7 were publifhed by the writer himfelf, after they had undergone his revifion and correction, we may be pflured that their purpofe was not the fimple effu- fion of his mind. In fact, the evident defign of almoft every letter in the collection is, as we com- monly exprefs it, to fet himfelf off ; for they turn upon fome act of munificence which he had per- formed, fome inftance of his literary and oratori- cal reputation, his attachment to ftudy, his philo- fophical temper of mind, his love of virtue, in fhort, upon fomething that may heighten his cha- racter in the idea of his correfpondent. His lead- ing foible, indeed, the thirft of applaufe, they very amply exhibit; for he neither wilhed to conceal it, nor could he do it confidently with his purpofe of obtaining applaufe But we mall in vain look for any touches cf nature which may make us acquaint- ed in other refpecls with the man. All is fo var- nifhed over with fplendid fentiments, and elec-an- cies of thought and expreffion, that no peculiar features are difcernible. The fubject of every letter is a theme, on which the fmefl things are to be faid ; and we are continually tempted to believe, that the benevolent or generous a£tion he relates, was done for the exprefs purpofe of difplaying it to a friend in its faireil colouring. Yet fmce, from the concurring teftimony of wri- ters, we know that Plir.y was in reality a mofc ex- emplary character both in public and private life, another inference to" be drawn is, that the love of 48 L E T T E R. VI. admiration, how much foever it may deferve the name of a tvealne/i, is not on the whole unfavour- able to virtue. The defire of praife is a motive to do that which we think may deferve praife. This may occafionally, to perfons of a corrupted tafte, lead to endeavours at excelling in trivial and ufelefs performances : but it can fcarcely ever lead to actions manifeftly bafe and flagitious. And on thofe who have formed a jufl fenfe of what is praife - worthy, its operation will be beneficial, by engaging feif-love as an auxiliary to virtuous principles. The age of Pliny abounded in characters of the pureil virtue. It would feem as if the mocking and deteftable forms in which vice had exhibited herfelf under the worft of the Roman emperors, had awakened in mankind a double admiration of her oppofite. At the fame time, the refined civility of the age had foftened the rigid morality of the old Romans into a fyilem in which the humane vir- tues had their proper place. Trained in the belt principles, and early imbued with veneration for the nobleft characters, Pliny courted the public eileem by an imitation of exalted worth ; and if his virtue was not of the complexion of that which can content itfelf with its own confeioufnefs, yet it was fufficiently founded in habit and conviction, to induce him to be what he wifhed to appear. In every age and country, the public will have reafon to be amply fatisfied, if its men cf rank and high, clnee (hall be Plinia. LOVE OF APPLAUSE. 49 The vanity of this writer appears Ieaft refpe£t- able when it turns upon literary fubjects. It wa3 his ardent defire to be thought, not only an excel- lent pleader and rhetorician, but a proficient in every kind of compofition, profe and verfe, light cr ferious. That his fondnefs for difplaying himfelf, rendered him extremely prolix, may be judged, not only from his boaftful relations of pleadings of five or fix hours at a time, and his frequent commenda- tions of good hearers, but from his laboured and diffufe panegyric on Trajan. I doubt not that the patient and even applaufive attention to his long declamations and recitation?, of which he fo often informs his friends, proceeded rather from a refpect to his character, and a wifn to pleafe him, than from the real fatisfaetion of his auditors. From various paffages in his' letters we may difcover that application was made to this foible by perfons who were defirous of ingratiating themfelves in his fa- vour. This is the danger of an exceiTive love of applaufe ; — not that it mould vitiate the heart, but that it mould corrupt the judgment, and lay a man open to the ridicule of the malignant, and the ar- tifices of the defigning. Farewel ! E ( So ) LETTER VII, ON THE STORY OF CIRCE* DEAR SON, J[ HERE was a period of criticifm in which the works of Homer were fuppofed to contain an en- cyclopedia of human knowledge ; and every thing of art, fcience, and wifdom, which after-ages had developed, were afferted to lie in their feeds within the compafs of his hiilory and fable. Under this impreffion, commentators were naturally led to f ;arch for recondite meanings in every fcene of in- vention, by which he diverfmed his poems ; and particularly they fought to improve the barrennefs of his morality, by allegorifing his fic~r.ions. The double nature of the heathen deities ferved their purpofe very happily in many of thefe attempts ; and there was little difficulty in perfuading the reader that Pallas was wifdom perfonified in infpir- ing an action of policy, though a few lines before me had prompted deeds of valour as the martial goddefs. Sounder criticifm has brought back many STORY OF CIRCE. 51 Of thefe fancied allegories to Ample narratives. Reafoning upon the character of the age in which Homer lived, and the general ftrain of his writings, it has refufed to admit ideas and defigns manifeftly originating in a very different Mate of mtc!le£tual progrefs. You may recollect our reading together the epif- tle of Horace to his friend Lollius, and admiring the eafy good fenfe with which he deduces leffona of moral wifdom from the writings of Homer. Thefe are, in general, fuch as any real hiftory filled with a variety of events and characters might fug- ged ; but from the adventures of Ulyffes he felects two as eonfeffedly allegorical, Srrenum voces et C\:cx poculi nofli ; and the fame opinion of them has, I believe, been entertained by all fucceeding commentators to the prefent day. Of the Sirens' fong, I do not, at this time mean to take notice ; but I (hall offer to your ccnfideration fome remarks on the fiery of Circe. The leading circumftances in this narration, of an enchantrefs turning men into beafls by a charmed cup, and of a wife man by virtue of a counter- charm refilling the force of her fpelis, afford fo plaufible a foundation for a moral allegory on the debafmg effects of fenfuality, and the prefervative power of wifdom, that, we need not be furprifed at its having been univerfally received as fuch. Ac- cordingly, the Circean cup has become a phrafe in E 2 52 LETTER VII. every cultivated language ; and the moft celebrated poets of different countries have imitated or new- modelied the ftory with the happieft effect. Yet inde»pendently of the general argument againil alle- gorical interpretation, drawn from Homer's cha- racter of writing, there are in the ftory itfelf, when. clofely examined, fuch contradictions to the fup- pofed moral defign, that we muit either give it up as a falfe notion, or conclude that the author was abfolutety void of the judgment requisite for fuch a fpecies of compofition. Let us trace 'the outline of the fable. Ulyffes, landing upon the ifland of Circe, fends a party to explore the country. They arrive at the palace of Circe, who ccurteoufly invites them to enter ; and all but Eurylochus comply. She fets before them a mixture of meal, cheefe, honey, and Pramnian wine ; the fame compofition as Nector prepares for the Avounded chiefs in the Iliad. With this the mixes poifonous drugs ; and after they have ail partaken of the refection, fhe flrikes them with a rod, and they are initantly transformed into fwine. Now, what is there in this that looks on their parts like intemperance or grofs fenfuality ? Could they have d^ne lefs than accept a civility which had no- thing extraordinary iv, its circumilar.ces, and in which they did not, as far as appears, exceed the bounds of moderation ? Homer, who is fo copious in the praifes of hofpitality, certainly could not mean to reprefent it as a fault to partake of the hof- STORY OF CIRCE. $$ pitable board ; and his greateft heroes are by no means backward or abftemious on fuch occafions. But what follows ? On the return of Eurylo- chus, who not knowing the fate of his companion:;, concluded that they were all murdered, UlyfTes bravely refolves to fet out alone in order to explore the event. In the way he is met by Hermes in the fhape of a youth, who informs him of the nature and mode of Circe's enchantments ; and prefenting him with a root called Moly as a prefervative di- rects him, on being touched with the rod, to draw his fword and threaten Circe with death. " Then (fays he) CnQ will invite you to her bed ; and do not you on any account refufe the offer, fince it will conciliate her kindnefs : but nrfl bind her with an oath not to plan further mifchief againil you." UlyfTes acls in all points as he was commanded. What then is this Moly ? The "commentators dare not call it temperance — that would be too ma- nifeib an outrage to the circumflances of the adven- ture. They make it therefore inflruttion or pru- dence, and thus they are at once constrained to lower the moral to a mere leiTon of caution. Mdy, how ever, would better exprefs the later doctrine of. eleMhny and the nnlefs privilege of the faints: for UlyfTes, without any merit of his own, indulges with impunity in much gCeflfer acts of fenfualky than his men had done, who were turned into beafls inertly for following the common dictates cf nature. The fequel is Hill more frsecondkable to the fct>- 54 LETTER VII, pofed allegory cf temperance ; for IJIyffes flays a whole year with Circe, fharing her bed, and making- merry with her good cheer, without ever thinking of Ithaca, till his men remonftrate with him, and urge his return. It is obfervable, that this part of his conduct is exactly that which the Italian poets have attributed to their intemperate heroes, who are prefented as examples of great virtues with great defects. Critics attempt to obviate this objection to the ftory, by faying that UlyfTes was not intend- ed for a perfect character. But in an adventure meant to exemplify a particular virtue, it would be abfurd indeed to make the principal circumftance a deviation from that very virtue. On the whole I cannot but be convinced, that Homer in the ftory of Circe had no ether end in view, than in that of the Cyclops, the L^eftrigons, and various others, namely, to gratify the paffion for novelty and love of wonder belonging to all ?ges and all readers, by introducing into the travels of his hero, all thofe extraordinary narrations which he had learned from tradition, or the reports of manners. This p.urpofe, fo natural in a poet of a rude -age, will account, not only for the ftrange matter intermixed with many of his fables, but for their being introduced at all. He who looks for any better reafon for many things that he will find in the early writers, will only facrince his own judg- ment to their reputation. Ycur affectionate, &c ( 55 ) LETTER VIII. ON NATURE AND ART, AND THE LOVE OF NOVELTY. DEAR SON, Ti HE Englifh fchool of the fine arts has diftin- guifhed itfelf from every other, by a more univerfal reference to nature as a ftandard, and a bolder re- jection of principles of art long and widely efta- bliihed. Impatient of rules, little endowed with a capacity for ingenious and elegant fiction, but ftrongly fenfible of natural beauty and fublimity, our men of tafte have fallen into a peculiarity of manner which has its excellencies and its defects. It has foftered an ex ail: judgment in reprefenta- tions of nature, whether mental or corporeal ; it has elevated the imagination with the nobleft ob- jects, and touched the heart with the mofl genuine paffions ; but it has narrowed the range of plea- furable fenfations, and has infpired a faftidioug difreHfli of many eficrts of ingenuity. By endea- vouring to purfue to the firft principles of an ab- ftrad philofophy every fpectdatioo concerning the §6 LETTER VIII. fine arts, a habit has been introduced, of refufing to be pleafed where the fource of pleafure could not be clearly traced ; and that du&ility of foul to- wards attempts to amufe, which is fo happy a pre- parative to their effects, has been reprefied by the pride of reafoning. Perhaps the true philofophy of the human mind has fuffered as much from this fcrutinizing fpirit, as the capacity for enjoyment has done — perhaps the right folution of a funda- mental theorem has been miffed by looking too far for it. I intend in this letter to offer to your con- fideration the varied operations of a fimple princi- ple, which, I conceive, will explain and juftify many things that our national feverity of judgment has queitioned or rejected. What is the great requ'fite in all endeavours to entertain ? — novelty. Satiated and difTatisfled with things within our daily view, we roam in refllefs fearch after fomething either abfolutely new, or novel in form and degree. This pnffion, which is in fome meafure univerfal to the human race, and which is ever ltronger in proportion to the advance- ment in knowledge and civilization, might, perhaps,, by the acute metaphyfician be referred to fome remoter principle , but practically it is ult:m;:te ; and the deHr^s it excites nothing clfe can JGatisfy. Inilead of afking, " Who will mew us any good ?" our cry is, Who will fhew us any thing new ? — and he who is fortunate enough to be able to do this, is fare of a recomper.ee. NATURE AND ART. $j There are two fources from whence this dcfire leeks gratification : nature and art. In nature, whatever has never before, or but rarely been pre- fented to us, affords pleafure on that account, which is greatly enhanced when the object is in other refpecls capable of exciting agreeable fenfations. This is undoubtedly the nobleft, the moll delicious, and perhaps the mefl copious fource df pleafure ; but to many, its enjoyment to any great extent is precluded by circumflances, and probably length of time will exhaufc it in all. The inhabitant of a great city, imprifoned within its walls by bufinefs or necefuty, can only at fecond hand receive the knpreiEons proceeding from a view of the grand p.r.d beautiful cf nature's works. And even the villager, though placed amid the meft pictaiefq.ie affemblage of woods, lakes, and mountains, mufl inevitably find their charms pall upon his fenfe, on- lefs fupported by new objects of curiolity opening from a clofer refearch into the wonders of creation* It is the fame with that part of nature which relates to the mind. The ordinary difplay of pafiions and interefts which we behold in real life and in hiilory, proves at length infuiiicient to fill our minds. We eagerly look out for more extraordinary characters and events ; and at laffc are compelled to quit nature altogether, and feed our appetite for novelty upon imaginary beings. To art then, in fome form or other, we all refort for a remedy of the tedium vita j and national $$ LETTER Vin. tafces are chiefly characterifed by the mode and degree in which it is employed. It is in the arts termed imitative, that differences in thefe refpe&s are moll remarkable. It might have been fuppofed, that, referring to nature for their archetyes, they could vary only in the greater or lefs perfection of their imitation. But as this has not been the cafe, it is evident that thefe arts muft have fome addi- tional object. In fact, they are not, in general, in- tended to give exact copies of nature. Their pur- pofe is to heighten her, to difguife her, to alter her, perhaps for the worfe, but at any rate to produce novelty. Nature fupplies the form and feature, but art contributes the drefs and air. It is in vain to attempt upon general principles to determine the proportion each mould preferve in the combination. For whether the end be to pleafe or to move, to flatter the imagination or excite the paffions, the fuccefs of the means will greatly depend upon man- ners, habits, and perhaps phyfical diverilties, in refpect to which no one people can be a rule to another. But I have dwelt too long upon general ideas — let us come to examples. The drama is of all the efforts of art that which approaches the neareft to nature. It has every ad- vantage conjoined, which the others poffefs fingly ; and indeed in fome circumftances almcft ceafes to be a reprefentation, bat is the thing itfelf. Yet how differently have different nations conducted their dramatic fpectaclcs. and how manifeilly have NATURE AND ART. J9 they intended variation from nature, where copying it would have been obvious and eafy. The Greeks, as you well know, wrote all their plays in meafure, and pronounced them in recitative with the accom- paniment of mufic, and with regulated gefticulation. They covered the ftage with a chorus, which was made privy to the moft fecret tranfactions, and in- terrupted the dialogue by odes of the moft elevated poetry. All this was certainly deviating far enough from reality ; yet never were the powers of the ftage over the paffions more confpicuous than in Greece, and never were a people more enthufiaf- tically fond of theatrical exhibitions. In all thefe points the Romans exactly copied them. Modern nations have in different degrees followed the an- cient models. All have adopted verfe as the vehicle of tragedy, and moft, of comedy. They have, at leaft in the interludes, afibciated dance and mufic. But the Italians, in their operas, have employed throughout the fame artifices of recitative, fong, and meafured action, that were ufed by the an- cients. A true-bred Englifhman laughs -at all this, or yawns. Some of our firft wits have not dif- dained to point their ridicule, againft heroes (tab- bing themfelves in cadence, and lovers expiring with a quaver, But a fenfible Italian furely does not want to be told that this is not nature. He looks for nature in the ftory, the paffions and the fentiments; but by allying it with the charms of excmifite mufic and graceful gefture, he feels that 6o LETTER VIII. he obtains fomething more, without lofing any thing. It may, indeed, require time and excrcife to acquire a true relifh for fuch exhibitions, and fafhion may have induced many to affect at thefq fpectacles a pleafure which they do not feel, efpe- cially when the language of the piece is a foreign one. But I think we cannot, without grofs pre- judice, doubt that they are capable of exciting genuine raptures, and that, in perfons whofe fenfe of propriety is as juit and delicate as our own. You know that in this matter I claim an un- prejudiced opinion, at leaft on the fide for which I am pleading, fince my own tafles are perfectly home-bred, and my conviction of the power of fuch arts is founded more on the textimony of others, than on my own experience. I confefs, that I was inclined to laugh at the idea of heroic dancing, till a friend of mine, a judicious unaffected country gentleman, who had been to fee Veftris in a ferious opera, aifured me, that he had received from his action fenfations of dignity, grace, and pathos, furpailing .any thing of which he had before formed a conception. What is tragedy among ourfelves ? Is it not a dialogue in verfe, intermixed with all the decora- tions of poetry ? — and is this nature P I am aware that Englifn blank verfe may be fo pronounced; as to be no verfe at all ; and this fuppofed improve- ment was introduced on our fiage by Garrick, whofe idea of perfect recitaticn was that of imi- KATUR.2 AND ART. C \ Htlng natural fpeech as nearly as poflible. In hflghly impaflioned parts, and efpeeMy where fhort and broken fentences copied the real language of emotion, this mode certainly gave him an advantage in exciting the fympathy of a common audience. But where the writer was, and meant to be, poeti- cal, I cannot but think that a recitation with the ore rotunda of Booth and Barry, in which a mufical flow was given to fentences by means of returning fvvells and cadences, with a light fufpenfion of the voice to mark the clofe of each line, Lad a finer effect, and better coincided with the purpofe of the poet. It is obvious to remark, that if verfe is not to be pronounced as fuch, it is unneceffary to write it ; for any pleafure the eye can receive by parcel- ling out lines into divisions of ten fyilables, mint be merely ehildifti, unlefs it originally refers to the ear. In every country but our own, verfe is read with what we call a tone or chant — a fort of modulation between finging and common fpeaking ; as it un- doubtedly was likewife by the Greeks and Romans. In this mode of reciting, emphafis is, tc our ears, almoft entirely loft, as any one will perceive on g French verfe read by a native. Yet no readers appear more impreffed with their fubject, or more to intereft their hearers, than the French. We always endeavour to preferve the emphafis, i often to the total lofs of the modulation. Which of thefe methods is belt, cannot eafih F 62 LETTER. VIII. determined by general principles, but mufc be re- ferred to tallies and habits already formed. On the whole, however, that nation which derives the greateft pleafure from i:s performances, has beft attained its end. With this remark, and the corol- lary — that no one nation can be a competent judge of the verification of another — I conclude my pre-* fent letter, to refumc the fubjec~t in my next. ( «3 ) LETTER IX. THE FORMER. SUBJECT CONTINUED. 1 HE train of thought which I have folio wed, next leads me to coniider the poetical language of tragedy ; another circurnllance in which art takes the lead of nature. I know, indeed, that critics have afferted figurative diction to be natural to per- Ions labouring under ftrong emotions ; but for proof of this aifertion, I find quotations from Shakefpear, inilead of appeals to fact. One of thefe critics, and of no mean rank, has given as an example of the natural playfulnefs of a lover's ima- gination, Juliet's fancy of cutting out Romeo all into little liars when he is dead. I' : i{lo not deny that a certain degree of mental er.c'itement (to ufe modern phrafeology) may, like a cheerful glafs, vivify the imagination, and impart a glow and fluency of expreffion ; but I never knew a real in- stance in which violent pafiion, like intoxication, did not overwhelm the intellectual faculties, and abolifn all connexion of thought and choice of lan- guage. But tragedy cannot ccnfifl of ahs and oh's, of exclamation? and broken fentences. Its purpofe F 2 6± L E T T 2 R IX. is to delight, to inftruft, to elevate, and above all, to gratify the denre of novelty : the pafficn of tragedy is therefore necefTarfly made fluent, inven- tive, eloquent, metaphorical, arid fententious. See - ' q characterifes the tragic writers of the Grecian fchool. Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught, In chorus and iambic, teachers bed Of moral prudence, wit it received In brief fententious precepts, while they treat Of fate, and chance, and change in human life, High actions, and.. . tons beft defcribing. PAR. Reg. iv. 161. It was evidently after this model, that he framed m A± iftes and Com us, pieces, howe adapted for the modern Engliih ftage, ' continue to charm and inilruct the cultivated reader, as long as the language in which they are written exifts. I ;r would Shakefpear himfelf, t" byled the bard of nature, have afforded a whole fchool of poetry and morals, had his dialogue been a real pattern of that natural fim- .a to characberife it. To every impartial obferver it will be manifeit, that his " brief fententious precepts" are generally brought in with effort ; and that his fublime and often far-fetched images rather belong to the play- than to the fpeaker. The fweet Racine and be communicated their own diftinc- NATURE AN'D ART. 6 tions to all their characters, and were properly t: defcribers of high actions and high paffions" in their feveral ftyles. In fnort, if tragedy be net confidered as a fublime poem, rather than a mere fable to move the pafiions for a moral purpefe, it will be impofiible not to prefer the Gameiler and George Barnwell to any performance of Shakefpear, Corneille, or Sophocles. It would not be a difacait talk to apply this ciple of novelty to various ether fpecies of poetical compofition, and particularly by it to account for the fuppofed neceffity of machinery in the Epic, which can fcarcely have any other reafonable pu - pofe than to excite wonder ; but I (hall at prefent content myfelf with fome remarks on its funda- mental importance in PaJloraL The nature and defign of paftoral poetry have been very differently reprefented by critics, and their opinions have been refpectively fupported by appeals to the practice of different writers. I have no doubt, however, that the true fecret of the pleafure derived from paftoral, and confequently, of the genuine plan on which it fhould be written, is an univerfal longing after a certain imagined ftate of fociety, which never did exift, but which may readily be conceived, and by its innocence, tran- , and iimple delights, fweetly confraft with the turbulence and evils of the real world. It is no new opinion that this poetry has a reference to the golden age ; but by this age, I would not ua- F3 66 LETTER It. derftand any period recorded by tradition, but ra- ther a kind of Utopia, in which the wounded and wearied fpirit of mail haG ever delighted to take refuge. In this fancied picture, however* there is a natural pare ; for fuch are the real charms of nature, that even imagination can do no more in decorating a terreftrial paradife, than to collect in one foot, and in their highefl perfection, ail the delightful produ&ions of different climes and fea- fons. More has fometimos been attempted ; but the novelty of trees bearing flowers of gems and fruits of gold, has not atoned for its incongruity; ond after all, an orange tree is a more beautiful object. Eat manners, alas ! muft be invented for the fcene. The tender pafiion in a degree of purity- it never pofTeiTed, content, difmtereflednefs, bene- volence, fimplicity, and delicacy, which, if ever they infpired one bofom, certainly never did one hamlet, muft concur, along with fome alloy by way of contrail, ;to form inhabitants for the blifsful fpot. Amid fuch a faery people, I confefs I do not regret nature ; nor at my age am I afhamed of lofmg myfelf in the Arcadian walks of a Paflor Fido and Aminta. To contaminate a beautiful creation of the hiicy with rude manners and coarfe efXpref- merely beeauie they belong to the miferable- fnepherds of this actual world, appears to me a wretched attempt at accuracy. E;. . -vd this- fpecies of poetry altogether, than render it the ve- hicle of "... ihe itrffea and NATURE AND ART. 6j mean pafiions of ruflics, that they mould be deco- rated with the graces of verification ? and make a part of our moll elegant amufement? Is it to teach us mankind, and prevent our being impofed upon by falfe representations ? Alas ! we know too well that no Arcadia exifts upon modern ground, and that vice and wretchednefs prevail in the hamlet as well as in the city. But why might we not for a time be indulged with forgetting it? Pafloral, in the light I confkler it, is rural ro- mance. As in the compofitions which were once fo celebrated under the name of romance, a fet of human beings, trained up in fanciful principles, and elevated to the higheft fcale of imaginary per- fection, are engaged in a ferics of equally extra- ordinary adventures ; fo in pafloral, the model of character and the incidents are derived from a fictitious {late of fociety. The natural circum- ftances, however, of the pafloral life, accord bell with a certain Simplicity of language and manners; whence the conceits and cuaintneffes in the dia- logue of fome of the Italian pafloral dramas, by violating congruity, oirend againfl true tafle. Yet, in fact, to refine the language of fhepherds from al] admixture of groflhefs, and to decorate it with the fimpler graces ef fweetnefe and purity, is almoft an equal departure from reality. But without . Ji accommodation to cur longings after a ne v md better ftate of mankind, the great end of ca lot be accomplice L 63 T E R. IX. Were I inclined to purfue my fubject at length, I might take occafion, from the illuftration I have employed, to treat on romantic fictions in general, and to inftitute a companion between the old ro- mance and the modern novel. But not defiring to detain you fo long on this topic, I mall only touch upon a circumftance apparently contradictory to that love of novelty on which I have laid fo much ftrefs ; and this is, the preference now fo uiiiver- fally given to novels, over the romances which fur- nifhed matter fo much newer and more marvellous. The reafon of this face feems to be, that we are much more creatures of feeling than of imagina- tion ; and that nature being predominant in cur pailions, all attempts to excite the fympathetic emo- tions mull fucceed in proportion as they approach her ftandard. I before admitted, that the novelty prefented by nature, is of a nobler kind than that produced by art. Uncommon characters and ex- traordinary events, therefore, which have a natural foundation, will always interefl more than thofe which are wholly artificial. Now, the writings ftyled novels, are intended to imprefs us like the narrations of real occurrences. They even pretend (however falfely, for the moil part) to inftrucl us in the knowledge of human life. Their effect de- pends on a kind of illufion, which makes their perfonages appear to us like familiar acquaintance, whofe fentiments and actions are what we fib expert from the circumftances u>.der which they NATURE AND ART. 69 are placed. Romance, on the other hand, tranf- ports us into a new creation — a world of wonders, peopled with inhabitants exprefsly formed for the They have fundamentally, indeed, the paiTions of men ; but fo modified by habits of thinking and acting peculiar to themfelves, that they do not produce the ufual refults of thofc paffions in real life. An Amadis will fall in lore as well as a Grandifon, but will not love like him, or like any other mortal. Yet even Grandifon is not a common character, nor is his hiftory a n one — and hence the novelty of the fable. It is true, the ordinary run of novels exhibit pictures which are little more than old faces new dreffed and grouped ; and yet they are perufed with avidity by a certain clafs of readers. But the tafte for fuch reading is a kind of falfe appetite refembling that for fnuffand tobacco, which rather feeks the fupply of a want, than the enjoyment cf a pleafure. It is new time to fum up my critical doctrine, which I mail do in few words. This is — that eve l the pleafure derived from natural objects is confi- ' . dependent on their novelty — that art mere peculiarly applies to this fource of gratification — that even thofe termed imitative, have a pu -p diftinct from copying nature, which is, the allying it with fomething new, as the clothing and vehicle — and that with refpect to the degree in which thefe additions may be made with a happy effect, it 70 T T E R depends in great meafure upon local habits and aflbciations. I may, perhaps, hereafter apply thefe ideas t# another topic. At prefent, Farewel ! ( 7i ) LETTER X. ON PREJUDICE, BIGOTRY, CANDOUR, AND/ LIBERALITY. DEAR SON. S the profeffional concern you will have in the opinions of mankind, may fometime or other in- volve you in controverfy, I fhall offer to your con- sideration fome reflections ou the true import cf certain words, than which none more frequently occur in controverfial writings, though their ap- plication is for the moll part extremely loofe and undeterminate. The accurate ufe of terms is in all cafes important ; but that of the terms in quef- tion is peculiarly fo, in thoie times ef violent and bitter party contention. The firft that I fhall mention is Prejudice. This word, according to its derivation, implies a judgment prior to examination ; — it feems, there- on its very face, to bear the mark of rafh a a :■ unreafonable decifion. But in common language, its meaning is frequently fcftened down into an bppreffion which a man does : c t iple to avow, /2 L E T T E R X. and for that reafon probably does not recognize to be wrong. We readily own a prejudice againft a man or a caufe, if we have grounds from expe- rience for thinking ill of them. And as it is fre- quently neceiTary, in the occurrences of life, to come to a practical determination in a cafe where we have nothing but fuch a preemption ro guide us, we cannot be blamed for following the bed lights we are able to procure. Prejudice in this mftance is only a reafonable analogy, by which we draw inferences of what will be from what has been. I know that a perfon has acquired an office or trait by fraudulent means. — I am inclined to credit an accufation of his having exercifed it frau- dulently. A magiilrate has betrayed an outrageous fpirit of party virulence. — I fufpeet that he has been influenced by it in his deration of caufes m which party was concerned. The fupporters of a certain fyftem have always avoided difcuffion, and as much as poffible decried the ufe of reafon. — I infer that their fyftem will not fland the teft of reafoning. In ail thefe inftances, the judgment I form may in ftri&nefs be termed a prejudice, becaufe it refults from preconceptions, not from dlredt examination of the point in qutition. But it is cenfurable only when it prevents me from recurring to fuch an examination when in my S rower ; and makes me acquiefce in probability when I might have attained certainty. Prejudice is blamable and unreafonable, when PREJUDICE, BIGOTRY, Sec. 73 the inferences it draws either do not at all follow f o:n the premifes, or not in the degree it fuppofes. Thus (with due fubmiffion to the fcience of phy- uognomy), if I conclude a man to be a knave or a fool from the length of his nofe, or the projection cf his chin, I fuffer myfelf to be milled by an ab- furd method of prejudging what cannot be deter- mined by fueh a rule. Scarcely iefs falfe prejudice would there be iu tire judgment I mould form of his character, from his known opinions on fpecula- tive points of philofpphy or theology. In thefe inftances the conclufions are totally faulty — the two members of the proposition having no more agree- ment, than in that line of Pope, — each Ulaiithor is a. bad a friend. In other inftances, the error is only in degree. A perfon maintains a fyftem manifeftly, to my ap- prehenfion, deftru&ive of all moral obligation, whence I conclude him to be a man of lax morality. But though this be a natural eonfequence, it is not a certain one; for daily experience proves, that men may lead the moil exemplary lives with prin- ciples apparently cedculated to produce an oppofile e.Tccl ; iuch principles either not ' operating at all, or being counteracted by more powerful ones. National and profeffional characters kad to erro- neous conclufions in a fimilar degree. When dawn from extenfive and accurate obfervation, they mayjuftly influence the firft opinions we form G 74 LETTER*. of individuals ; but wlien they are adopted as uni- verfal and irrefragable rules of judgment, and render us inacceffible to all proofs of a contrary- tenor, they degenerate into the won't of preju- dices. Controverfies political and religious are peculiarly fullied with prejudices of this kind. Every feci: and party has its diftincl: dbnoxious character, impreffed on the minds of its violent antagoniils, who aiTociate it to every individual of the clafs, however contrary to the manifeft courfe of his conduct. But I am now got to the confines of another word, which is, Bigotry. This may be confidered as preju- dice combined with a certain malignity. It is not only prepofleffed in its judgment, but entertains its prepciTeiTiOns with pafiion, and feels impreffions of ill-will againft thofe who oppofe them. It refills all attempts at confutation with pertinacity and anger. An antagonift, in its estimation, is a foe, to be filenced by other means than argument, A bigot never reafons but when he cannot help it, and thinks himfelf outraged by being compelled to deicend into the field of equal conteft. At the hazard of diicrediting his own Hrength and fkil], he is ready to call out for the civil arm to handcuff or knock down his opponent. After the Earl of Nottingham had written a defence of the orthodox faith againft the attacks of Whifton, and had re- ceived for it the folemn thanks of the Univerfity of Oxford in full convocation, he attempted to PREJUDICE, EICOTRY, &C. *J $ put an end to all further controversy-, by intro- ducing into the Houfe of Peers a bill denouncing moil fevere penalties againfl any one who fliould henceforth oppugn the eftablifhed doctrines. So mean a thing was bigotry even in a noble cham- pion ! The bigot requires to b ized before he is enlightened, and the correction of his heart mud p at of his underftandin^l Simple prejudice is at ones removed by removing the veil concealed the truth; but bigotry fofters its prejudices as it would protect a child or a miftrefs. To fpeak v f -€ bigot is a tautology, bigotry includes the idea of fincerity. The is ready to give fubftantial proof of the reality of his zeal, often amounting to the facrifice cf his - interefts. 'On the other ithets mild, moderate, liberal, rational, can never in any degree belong to a bigot. It is not bigotry to be firmly to a caufe, and to conceive of it as a thing of the higheft: moment ; but it is bigotry to mat the ears agai uments on the oppo- site fide, and to refufe others that liberty cf judg- ment which we ouvfeives affum t. Candour is in feme meafure the oppofite cf bigotry ; for its effence conilfls in a difpoiltion to form a fair and impartial judgment on opinions and actions. In the common ufe of the word we feem to include a leaning towards a more favour- judgment than is fcrictly true. But this ap- to me to be deviating from the proper fenfe G 2 7 6 LETTER*. of candour, into that of charity, which, as the Apcllle defcribes it, " thinketh no evil." Now, a perfon cannot have been long and intimately ac- quainted with mankind, without feeing reafon too often to think a great deal of evil of men's mo- tives and principles of action ; and if he imputes to them no more than the rules of juft inference warrant, I imagine he is not chargeable with the violation of candour. There is an afFe&ation of candour which I can- not but think very detrimental to the interefts of truth and virtue*. It is, when in fpeaking or r, a complaifant credit is given to men's own expoiitions of their motives, in actions which to the common fenfe of mankind explain themfelves upon totally different principles. If the hypocri- tical cant of morals difplayed in manifeftos, apd- deelarationsj and other appeals to the public in fufp'cious caufes, is, from a notion of candour, to be treated with deference, what muft be in- ferred, but that candour is a very weak, or a very worldly principle ? Clofely connected with uni- versal profligacy, is univerfal indulgence ; and if excufes are readily admitted to palliate or explain away manifeft violations of honour and honefty, the great barriers between right and wrong will be in danger of being overthrown. Certain thing* which are cuftomarily dons, are yet fo clearly wrong, that we cannot be made to feel them othei- wife without debauching our principles or undel . PREJUDICE, BIGOTRY, &C. 77 landing. If we fee men, whofe general cha- racters we love and eiteem, falling, through flrong temptation, into thefe errors, it is a much better exercife of candour to dwell upon every virtue they poflcfs, and fet it to their credit in counter- balance to one failure, than to vindicate them from the failure kfelf, by falfe reafonings or improbable fuppofitions. The word candour may, however, be under- ftood, as referring chiefly to the qualities of the heart, and implying that ivhitenefs or purity of foul, which infpires the defire of maintaining friendly difpofitions towards all mankind; and which in itfelf 9 at leaft, finds no caufe to judge harfnly of others. And the continuance of this propenfity through all periods of life is highly defirable, fince it will prove the befl prefervative againft virulence and acrimony in.controverfial de- bates, and will tend to heal thofe wounds on focial comfort, which bigotry is perpetually inflicting. This fpirit is fo beautifully defcribed in fome lines of Grotius's poem on the death of Arminius, that I cannot refrain from transcribing them. Cui caritate temperata libertas Certat manere d-ilidentibus concors : Pioeque pur us sequitatis affe&us, Damnatus aliis, ipfe neminem damnat ; Modeftiajque lhnitem premens, donat ISunc verba vero, nunc iileutlum paci. 7 S L E T T E 5. X. Liberality is a word perhaps of more inde- terminate ufe than any of the former. Its proper meaning, when applied to fentiment, feems to be, that generous expanfion of mind which enables it to look beyond all petty diftin&ions of party and fyflem, and, in the eftimate of men and things, to rife fuperior to narrow prejudices. From its me- taphorical relation to Bounty, it indicates free allow- ance, unftinted by rigid rules. The liberal man, like the fenate of ancient Rome, is fond of largely extending the relation of fellow-citizenfhip, and loves to admit all mankind to a fraternal (hare of the regard of their common Parent. The chief difficulty in adjufting the claims to liberality in con- troverfial points, arifes from the pretentions that mere indifference often makes to it. But though it be admitted, that without fomewhat of an im- preffion of the uncertainty or comparative unim- portance of the fubjects about which difputants are fo much divided, it is fcarcely pofllble to re- gard them with a liberal fpirit, yet this ftate of mind is not of ii f elf" liberality. It may, a;:d often does, produce an arrogant and contemptuous mode of treating opponents not arrived at fo happy a de- gree of laxity, which is as really contrary to the fpirit of liberality, as the eppefte ilnO.nefs can be. It mult, however, be cenfeffed, that there is in the very nature of fame tenets, fomething fo eiTen- tially adverfs to liberality, that they never can be imagined to fubfLi together. A man who is fo PREJUDICE, BIGOTRY, Ktf. 79 unfortunate as to believe that all but there of hia own way of thinking are doomed to eternal re- brobation, can fcarcely, whatever be the native temper of his mind, view with any thing like liberal allowance the opinions oppofed to his own, or the attempts to propagate them. How can he give the hand of fraternity to one whom he fup- pofes the inveterate foe of God and man? How can he raife himfelf above differences, which in his own estimation rife infinitely beyond every thing elfe ? Among the caufes nvc have for thankfulncfs, it is not the leart confiderable, that we have been taught to regard the whole human race as one family, all capable cf rendering themfelves ap- proved by their common Father, who, in allotting them different portions of light and knowledge, haS certainly not expected from thern an unifor- mity of belief and practice. I conclude with a brief exemplification cf the ufe of the terms in quefcion. When Jefus preached, Prejudice cried, " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ?" " Cru- cify him, crucify him," exclaimed Bigotry, " Why, what evil hath he done ?" remonftrated lour. And Liberality drew from his words this inference, " In every nation, he that fenreth Go J and worketh righteoufhefs, is accepted with him." Your truly aSb&ionate, Sec. ( 8° ) LETTER XL ON RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES. DEAR SON, W: E have read together an EJfay en Seels and EJlabll/bmenis, with an admiration in which we might fufpecl: an allowable partiality, had not the unbiaffed voice of the public given an equal at- tention to its merit. The truly philofophical view it has taken of the fubjec"r., and the novel and acute obfervations with which it abounds, ex- preffed with a characteriftic force and brilliancy of language, have fairly entitled it to the rank of a mailer-piece in its kind. The home truths it con- tains have not, I believe, been univerfally relifhed, but they have commanded the afTent of impartial obfervers. PoiTibly, however, fome of the ideas given in it concerning Sects, are rather hiftorically than effentially true ; and new Hates of opinion and manners may arife, in which different prin- ciples rnufl be called in for the purpofe of de- termining: on their character and fate. Inafmuch RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES 8l as feds are the counterparts of eftablifhments, the fpirit of the one muil depend upon that cf the other; and it may happen, that without any ma- nifeft change in an eftablifhment, its influence on men's minds may be fo much altered, as materially to alter the nature cf diflent from it. I will net (ay that this has actually taken place among us ; yet in proportion as the full right in every indivi- dual to choofe his mede cf religion is commonly admitted, as penalties and difabilitivis are foftened or aboliihed, and as men are accuftomed to view with unconcern different fyftems cf faith and wor- (hip, it is evident, that the circumftance cf bc- g to a feci or an eftablifhment, will produce lefs effect upon manners and character. In this flate of things, indeed, according to the doctrine of the Effay, the cauis of Seels will infallibly decline ; but I knew not whether the fpirit cf forming religious focieiies will not, on the contrary, gain ground. It appears to me that this is already the fpirit cf many feparatifla, who, while they have loft all attachment to feels, as confiding cf united bodies known by particular designations, have by no means become indifferent in their choice of religious inftitutions. By a religious fociety, in contradistinction to afe8 9 I understand limply this — that a number cf per- fons of a fimilar way cf thinking, for no other purpofe than merely to enjoy to the greater! advan- tage their own taftes and opinions in religion, $2 Better xi. alfociate to form a congregation. It is perfectly immaterial to them (further than as they may wifh the prevalence of what they moil approve) whe- ther or no there exifr. any other fuch fociety in the world. Religion is to them merely a perfonal affair, unconnected with other interefts ; and their only motive for aiTeciatmg in it at all, is that they find a duty or advantage in fecial worfh'p, which compels them to adopt means for its performance. They have nothing to do either with attack or de- fence, unlefs the grand and uniyerfal principle of the right of private judgment in matters of religion be called in queftion. In fupport of that, they make a common caufe with all ether feparatiits, and fo far they acl as fetlaries ; but otherwife, they have nothing more to difcufs with the eftablifhment, than with any detached fotiety like themfelves. As their purpofe is fimple, they find no reafon to ftand apart from the reft of the world in airy thing elfe. Having, indeed, avowed a ferious attach- ment to religion, by exerting an active choice in the mode, they are fenubie that immoralities would appear peculiarly inconfiflent in them, and that in things of a dubious nature, it is more be- coming their characters to incline to flri&nefs than laxity. It will probably be objected to this idea of the formation of religious focieties, that they would foon want zeal fuificient to keep them together. But, in the firfb place, what in this cafe is the de< RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES. 83 Jtderdhim P — not to increafe the numbers of blind followers of a name or a doctrine, but to provide for the wants of thofe to whom focial religion is really an object of fele&ion. To fuch perfons, differences not absolutely effential, will yet appear of fome importance ; and as even in things in- different, we conceive it an eftimable privilege to exert a free choice, it would feern not likely that this liberty mould be undervalued, in a matter at leall connected with a thing of fupreme confe- quence. Then, in fact, many of thofe doctrines upon which feparale congregations are formed, are in a high degree important, relating to nothing lefs than the object of divine worihip, and the conditions of acceptance in a future ftate. And while eftablifhed churches, and even ancient fects, remain ftationary, fome of thefe doctrines ' are making an accelerated prcgrefs. While, there- fore, religion continues to exert an influence over the mind, and the fpirit of liberty retains its activity, i'c can fcarcely be fuppofed, that a fuc- ceiTion of voluntary fecieties will ceafe to be formed, adapted to the varying or prcgrefiive ilate r: religious opinion, although they are unfup- ported by the peculiar manners or interefts cf a Let. Peculiarity of manners, though it undoubt- edly tends to draw ciofer the bands cf union in a ty, yet offers an additional olfbcle to thofe who may be inclined to enter it, and difpofes many the more readily to quit it. It has Hkewife the bad &i. LETTER XI. eTccl of diverting the attention from points of real O J. importance, to trifles ; and of narrowing the heart, by carrying into life diftinctior.s only meant for the temple. It is always better to refer cur actions to one great and decifive principle, than to many fubordinate ones. The exercife of private judg- ment in matters cf religion, may well Hand upon its own fingle ground, without calling in the aid of petty concomitants. The caufe offeparation has gained one conhder- able advantage in the prefent age, which is, that we fcarcely Lear any mare cf the Jn cf ft with the appreheniion cf which timid consciences were formerly d'ilurhed. Long ago, indeed, John Hales faid, in his Tra3 or, Schifm (never publi however, in his works, till 1721), " wherej falfe or fufpe&ed opinions ar: made a pice:: ■ church liturgy, he that feparates is not the math." The impoffibuity of .' '. ' ' r th's charge agaiuil a party fb as that it might not eafily he retorted, and the futility of every d pofed for tomprehenfion^ as it was called, hem to have made the minds cf men eafy in tin's rcular. Still further, the fuppefed fi 1 i felf I the opinion of many, been expunged from the ca- talogue ; for experience has (hewn, that the caufe of religion, far from being we; :fe di- vifions and fubdivifions of its -g, has ac- quired additional ftrength. The more it k made a man's perfonal choice, the greater i.iterefl h$ REL'.GlOV MLS. ; i.i ft j and as fooieties differ fr >m each otliet modes andarticle ' jrouads and fan&ions, the main authority of reli ton i; not : ihces. i in this that - ; i 11 :s more ,-\ • '/ton* : it an ' ito pic, b-.it I well !■-. . ~\ that is ler. With relpe£t to t'i • ■ ted by fuch a fociety to fuperintend the buiinefs a- : ~:r- fhip, and perhaps of private .Am, I da perceive that al- line of cort- ue than, by all proper means, t - Their ftyle of manners, ii able, mud be his. They will as i to find in him the affectionate and the agreeable and inilruciive compani t he will be under no nee.;, i their favour, to employ arts or compliances derc m a I radler. His oiHee and ftation nothing n can inf .If he is dependent, io are all who live by the pul ; but I fcarcely ever knew an inftance in which the H §6 L fc T T E R XI. advantages of education and office did not enable a perfon in that fituation to affume a liberal inde- pendence of behaviour, within the limits of pru- dence and good temper. He need not renounce the world, though, like every man of wifdom and virtue, he renounces its follies and diffipations. He mull, in order to be refpectable, fuftain his character with con£ftency and decorum, and it is a character which demands fome peculiar facri- fices; but for thofe he is amply indemnified, by the opportunity of rifing above the common level, and taking his ftation with the graver and weightier part of fociety. He is not precluded from aiming at perfonal influence and refpect from the commu- nity at large, by a dignified fuavity of manners, and ufeful and ornamental accomplishments. Were not thefe objects within his reach, I mould, as a father, be very unwilling that a fon whom I efteem, mould engage in the profeffion. Farewel ] ( s 7 ) LETTER XII. ON REPLY IN CONTROVERSY. H< OW far it is advifable to anfwer tlie charges of an antagonift in controverfy, is a queftion you aJk, with reference to the actual conduct of a diilinguiihed perfon whom we both highly efteem. I mall begin my reply with a ftory out of the life cf Melancrhon by Camerarius. That great and amiable man was the fubject. of much virulent abufe, as might naturally be expected to fall upon one, who in the interefiing bufinefs of reform, d a middle courfe, almoft equally remote from the extremes on either part. When ilrongly urged by his moil intimate friends to r.ublifh a vindication of his conduct, " I will anfwer you, (laid he) as my little daughter did me. She had one day been fent en an errand, and ftaid much longer than me ought to have done. I met her in the ftreet, and faid to her, Now, child ! what will you fay to your mother when (he chides you for ftaying fo long ? I will fay nothing, replied the ; H2 88 LETTER XII. What is the inference from this ftory ? Is it that Melandihon had really nothing to reply to the charges brought againil him ? The probability is, that he was confcious of being able to fay nothing which would produce any eifecl: on minds predif- pofed againil him ; for the matter of accufation was that prudent conciliatory behaviour which he did in reality approve and practife, and which he neither could nor would diiavcw ; and therefore a reply would have been of no avail. And this con- . ion, in my opinion, leads to the true rule of conduct, in thefe c. A writer publifhes his fentiments en a contro- verted point in politics or theology, and fupports bythebeft arguments in his power. A hot- headed ch: fes on the oppofite fide, who in print ftyles his notions or feditious, his snts t ':.! and abfurd, infulls his r . : his fenfe of le ites to him the word motr Lat mailer is there this for an anfwer : The writer does not mean to difavow his opinions becaufe an opponent thinks ill of them. His arguments are not refuted by the abufe of one who, perhaps, from incapacity or is utterly unable lo comprehend them, s fenfe and learning he has conftituted the public his judges by the act of publication, and to their judgment at large he appeals. His r\ can only be known to his own heart ; and averting them to be good, will no more convince his ene- RETLY IN CONTJ9LOV&RS* £<} m!es, than the contrary aftertion has con his friends. If, therefore, he has obtained from nature or cxercife a due command of temper, he will preferve a dignified filence, till an attack of fome other kind fummons him to the field. Now this other kind muit be characterized by one of thefe two circumflances — the production of new and forcible arguments againft him, or a mifrepre- fentation in matter of fact of a nature materially to injure his character. With refpeft to the firft iaftance, a difputani who honeftly argues for the fake of truth alone, will either freely retract what he cannot maintain, or will ftudy fcr new arguments to fupport what he ftill believes, nptwithftanding the h'ty of the objections raifed againft h's mode of proving it. But in each of thefe cafes a reply is his duty ; for filence can proceed enly from difmgenuoufnefs, or from indolence The public whom he addreffed have a right to all the fktisfaction he can give them ; and the caufe at iffue muft not be left to float in ion, if it be in his power to ite fur- ther to its determination. :hcod or mifieprefentation is a perfonal rea- fon for a reply, and often a very cogent one. Though the laws aflume in Come points the guardi- anfhip of a perfen's reputation, yet the modes hi which it may be affiled are fo numerous and in- definite, that he mud in great meafure rely en his own protection ; — and fiirely H 3 ' 9° tEfriR xir. ferve protecting. The fagcs iii the heating art have laid it down as a maxim, " Nullum capitis vuinus contemnendum." The fage in human life might with equal truth eflahlifh the pofition, That no attack on moral character is to be flighted. Though proceeding from the moil infamous and defpicable of mankind, they are never without fame power of hurting ; and filence under them will pafs, in the eflimation of a great part of the world, for an acknowledgment of guilt. If, there- fore, an unprincipled antagonist attempts to render a man odious, either by representing him as faying what he never has faid, or by inventing perfonal flander or calumny againft him, it will generally be as prudent as it is equitable, to cite him to the bar of the public, expofe his diihoneft arts and ma- lignant intentions, and with ftrong hand drag him forth like Cacus from the midil of his fire and fmoke, to light and punimment. Nor does this advice concern the writer alone. Any man upon whofe character an unjuft attack is made, will do right to vindicate himfelf, provided the charge relate to a matter of fact which can be brought to a decifive iiTue. That abufe, indeed, which is levelled at individuals merely as belonging* to a particular profeflion or party, and is only an inference from filch a fact, merits little notice, however it may bear upon moral character. Its effect depends upon a general opinion, which an iot alter. Large bodies cf men thus REPLY IN CONTROVERSY. 9* eenfured, may think it worth their while by public declarations of their principles to give the he to fuch charges ; but for a fingle member to do fo, ays either unneceflary or ufelefs. He mud in thofe points (land or fall with his party. But ac- cusations which mark out the individual as fuch, are of a different nature. They tend as much to injure a perfon with his friends, as to encourage the malice of his enemies ; and he rnuft not ex- pec! to be fupported agaiafl them upon public grounds. We live in an age, in which the viru- lence of party-contention, and the facility with which (landers are propagated, render it equally neceffary to be circumfped in cur actions, and fpirited in felf-defence. The public is indeed juft and generous when convinced ; but calumnies are readily adopted, and the refutation cf them always coils feme exertion. A man fails in the duty he owes to fociety, as well as to himfelf, who, through indolence or apathy, fuffers malignity and falfehood to triumph in the accomplifhment of their purpofe. They mould be oppofed boldly, Speedily, and openly. Every ftep in the conteft mould be clear and decifive ; and principles mould always be aimed at, however hedged in by forms and confequence. Every men capable cf doing a fecrct injuftice is a coward. Ke will ftmifle, equi- vocate, and (brink ; but if "held by the firm grafp . .ire. th and courage, he cannot clcrpe an i Fan LETTER XIII. ON CLASSIFICATION IN NATURAL HISTORY. A AM very glad to find, my dear fon, that you receive Co much pleafure from the purfuit of Na- tural Hiftory. No pleafures are more pure, more unmixed, more eafily procurable ; and the ftudy of nature is in many refpects peculiarly fuited to your profefiion and fituation. You do right firft to fol- low it in a practical way, making yourfelf acquaint- ed with the appearances of objects, and ascertain- ing their names and places in a fy&em. But it will be ufeful occasionally to interpofe reflections on the iludy in general, and to take extended views of that economy of nature which is one of the ncbleit. fubjects of contemplation. In order to lead ycu into fuch a train of thought, I mall communicate to you fome remarks on the clarification and ar- rangement of natural fubftances, which I wrote down at a time when thefe topics occupied a rood 1 J. o deal of my attention. When a p:rion begins to examine the produc- tions of nature around him, he will firft be flruok with a perception cf their infinite numbei ON CLASSIFICATION. C,^ bom . whole will feera to him a vaft aff< .. ' to all pofL kinds of i Q every nde an inextricable wfldernefs of d But on a moi 1 attentive furvey, lie will pre- fently defcry in lTs of things, numerous re- femblances and < , particulai objects, which vl-1 dif] I - , by a prccefs to which be is fcarcely co::fci^u3, to feparate them into daffes, and make a kind of arrangement cf them in bis mind. This firft rude c" Ulncatien me of the rrcft remarkable ts; and will only mar! greater diviilons, ftiH leaving _: the minuter d ; ;ferences which dif- uifh one kindred form of being from an- .:'. Thus, the three .' j (as they are termed) of nature^ will oon be feparated; the r:.l- vjral beiivj cliaracl:er:e:d from i:s inert and un- - : the V£gstalk ' l its riowlh - c : ^.r.^rz . tlie animal from the fipcr- In each of thefe will p cf Qtly nate clivi- iicns ; as in the animal creation, the feveral claflea pi quadrupeds, bkds, fines, and infects; in qua- d.Tp:ds, the qiftincTious cf gteat, fmall, mild, : , s, r/ramin:voroii3. and carnivc nous. But this U of proceeding will for a long time furriifh only fach general ideas as fall very (ho it cf the pmpoies of methodical an' t ; and it 94 LETTER XIII. not happen till after accurate refearches have been made into the more intimate itruc"ture of bodies, that marks are discovered fufficiently numerous and diftincl: to identify genus and fpecies. But there is another precefs of arrangement, equally natural that ccir.es at one ftep near to the individual.- In the common ccurfe of life, every perfbn becomes familiarly acquainted with certain forms cf nature, (o as to have the idea of them ftrongly impreffed upon the fenfes. A thing cf this kind, therefore, ferves him as a ftandard, to which he can refer a variety of oilier objects in the way of companion, as being like it in fome points, and unlike it in others. Thus, when a man habi- tually acquainted with dogs firft fees a fox, he will conceive of it as a fmall dog, with a (harper nofe and more buftry tail than ordinary ; and by thefe marks he will defence it to another man, who, from his previous knowledge of the dog, will pro- bably recognize the fox whenever he meets with it. In like manner, the tiger and leopard are faid to be animals cf the cat-kind, and thence a tolerable idea of their form and manners is obtained before feeing them. And combinations may be made of parts refembling thofe cf objects already known, by which a new production may be characterized. Thus we fay that a plant has the leaf of an oak, the flower of a rofe, the fruit of a plum, the fcent of a jeffamine, &e. The dekSis f this method are, that, in the firft place, it does not extend far ON CLASSIFICATION. Q* enough, the fpecies with which perfons are com-, monly'acquainted, being too few to ferve as arche- types of any confiderable portion of the works of nature ; and fecondly, that it is inaccurate, fince degrees of refemblance admit of every pofhble gra- dation, and flrike different obfervers differently. It is, however, q.n an union of the two principles of arrangement above-mentioned, that all fyilems. of clarification have been founded. But before we proceed further, it will be proper to take into confederation the ufes and purpofes of arrangement. Thefe are principally two ; one, to aid the memory by laying up the ftores of know-< ledge in a regular manner, and applying precife determinate names to eveiy fmgle object, fo me- thodized, that they may be found when wanted; the other, to afford a fummary connected view of the natural refemblances and differences between objects in their moft important entities, exhibit- ing the relations between caufes and effeiio, and thofe gradations of being which conftitute the great chain or fcale of exiilence. It is the latter only on which the philofophy of natural hiftory de- pends. The former is a mere matter of nomen- clature, neceffary, indeed, but as a means, net an end. The perfection of arrangement is when thefe two purpofes are united ; that is, v hen the moft important circumftances in the ilruilure or .economy of natural productions, are fel I fi£ CjG LETTER XIII, the characters on which their divifiona and f. divifions are founded ; and this conftitutes what is called a natural method. When this is rendered complete, we can, not only, on examining the real fubje^l, readily determine its place in the fyf- tem, and confequently its name ; but e ccnverfo, on being told the nam: and fyfteflfatic place of the fubjecl, we can infer the moil eflential circum- ftances of its nature and hiftory. To give an in- llance of this from Mr. Pennant' 3 Syiiopjis of Birds : — if I find an unknown bird, with w tfc :, a fiat bill, and a broad fringed tongue, I trace it at once by thefe marks to the genus Duck in his fyf- tem, and by carefully examining the dei:r' dorta of the feveral fpecies in this genus, I can difcover its name, and learn all that naturalifts have faid about it. On the other hand, if I am told that a bird fo named is of the Duck genus, I am fure, firft, that it is a water-fowl ; next, from its webbed feet, that it is a fwimmer 3 and then, from the form of its bill and tongue, that it lives eil upon foft vegetables, or upon fuch animal it can {coop up, and feparate at leifure, but upon living active prey. Here I have a d perception of that adaptation of means to ends which affords fo convincing a proof of the agency of a defigning caufe in the wonderful plan of crea- tion ; and I alio diiccrn one link cf that vail c which binds together the whole economy of na- ture. OS CLASSIFICATION. 97 But it is not in every part of creation that this perfection of arrangement can be obtained* The fpecies in fome claflfes are fo extremely numerous, their general properties are fo uniform* and their peculiar ones fo various and minute, that v.-e c n- not find characters in them fufficient to eft; ctTcriminations at the fame time precife and im- portant. This is particularly the cafe with tl e vegetable kingdom; and the difficulty of the tafk has given rife to numerous attempts in their claiS- fication, upon different principles. What is abso- lutely necelfary to the purpofes of utility, is tie eftablifhment of diviiions and fubdivifions, di'l'n- gifhed by marks at the fame time liable, obvioi s, and numerous ; otherwife the votary of this p 1 ea- iing ftudy may range over the world of vegetation, like Eneas in fearch of his golden branch, without being able, unlefs heaven directed, to identify any one object of which he may have heard or rear. This, however, c?.n only be effected by an artificial fyftem, that is, one, the diftinctions of which a:e taken from circumftances f elected for the purpdfe of arrangement only, and not on account of their relative importance. The thing wanted is a na- tural alphabet, compofed of a number of letter:, unmeaning, perhaps, of themf elves, but capab?e, by a vafl variety of combinations, of cEftingu'fh- ing with perfect precision all the tribes, families, and individuals of that immenfe nation from each other. I 9$ LETTER Xir. All modern botaniils agree, that it is in the parts of fructification that diftinctive marks for the pur- pofe of arrangement are to be found in vegetables. The great number and variety of thefe afford, by- means of combination, an almoil inexhauftible fund of differences, accommodated to the feveral orders of divifion and fubdivifion on which accu- racy of method depends. It is upon thefe, you know, that Linnseus has founded a fyftem, which its merit has brought into general ufe ; and which would want little of abfolute perfection, as an arti- ficial one, if it were as uniform in its application, as it is regular in its principles. But it labours under a defect from which no artificial arrange- ment can free itfelf ; which is, that it frequently thwarts that difbihution into families, which na- ture has pointed out by refemblances fo ftrong, as to render feparation a violence fcarcely tolerable ; fo that either his principles muff be • facrificed, or a very obvious deformity incurred by adhering to it. In thefe emergencies, the conduct of the au- thor has not been uniform ; fometimes he has ilood firm ; oftener he has yielded. In the latter cafe, fpecies, in order to keep to their genera, are placed under claffes and orders to which they do not belong ; fo that if a learner unfortunately lights upon them before he ha>; . dge of the genus, he may hunt through the whole fyftem before he can inveftigate them. It is as it, in a dictionary, a word beginning with the letter A ON CLASSIFICATION. 99 mould be placed along with others of fimilar ligni- fication under D. The caufe of this def mini." are has not attached fo much importance to the circumftances on which his . . / and fecondary di villous are founded, as . ke them uniform in productions formed in . ier the fame model. And, indeed, through the whole of the Linnaean clafiifications, in all the kingdoms of nature, there runs the fame attention to minute circumftances, in quell of dif- tmclive marks, which throws an air of littlenefs over his fyftems, and gives them the praife rather of ingenious invention, than of coincidence with the fublime plans of creation. You will, I hope, know how to prize them for their utility in en- abling you to acquire the knowledge of nature, without miftaking an acquaintance with them for that knowle Farewel ! ( 100 ) LETTER XIV. ON BUPF0M 7 S NATURAL HISTORY* BEAR SON, IN my former letter on the fubjecl cf Natural Hulory, I fiightly characterized the great Majier ef Ai rangemeni. At preferit I mean to commur nicate to you a few reflexions en a writer who lly high rank in a directly oppofite - treating thefe fubjects, the iHufhrious Count de Birfjln. The works of this, naturalift and philofopher, Unrivalled in descriptive eloquence, and filled with curious and exact details of matter cf fact, exhi- bit alfo continual marks of that difpofition to theo- rize which is almoft inseparable from genius. Not fatisfied with beiag the fecreiary, he afTumes the cilice of legiflator of nature ; and frequently quits the humbler tafk of painting things as they are, for the loftier purpofe of fpeculating how they have been and may be. One leading principle runs through all his difcufGons of this kind ; — a difpo- buffon's natural history. ioi fition to reduce as much as pcfllble the number of /pedes, by fuppofing perpetual varietUi generated by climate, domeitication, and other incidental caufes. He is ever in fearch of the original Jtoek from whence a number of kindred fpecies have proceeded ; and largely indulges himfelf in fuppo- fitions refpecting the means by which all the fhades and ramhications of difference have been produced, often highly ingenious, but often, too, in my opi- nion, perfectly gratuitous and delufory. This deduction of numerous prefent forms of nature from a few original archetypes, does net appear to me, even a priori, a very probable hypo- thecs. All the parts of nature have a mutual relation to, and dependence on, each other. If it be admitted that a large tract, of country has long exiiled in the form of folid land, it mull have been c:o:hed with vegetables accommodated to each foil and fituation. Thefe muft have afforded food and fiirlter to the rn/e3 race, with which vegetables are •z-^ry where found to (warm. Their rrmitiplicatxri to a noxious excefs, mud have been checked by the numerous birds which derive their chief fub- fileace from them. Quadrupeds, though lefs clofely connected with the other clafTes of creation, vet muft be fuppofed to have an appropriate pb.ee, and may reafbnably be imagined to have exiiled wherever their exiilence was confonant to the general arrangement of things, We view, with* i rprife, in regions very ciilant frem our own, I * 102 LETTER \'If. all this general order of nature exifting, yet rrnde up of fpecies fo different from ours in the different claffes, thftt we mull neceflarily refer them to a diftinft origin. Is it a greater wonder that other fpecies fhould be formed upon a model nearly re- fembling curs? After having gazed with admira- tion at the Paradife-birds in an Afiatic foreft, or the Toncans in an American one, and recognifed the creative power that originally placed them there, (hall we perplex ourfelves with endeavouring to account hew the thrufhes, pigeons, and finches, could get there, and by what means, with a gene- ral fimilitude to thofe tribes as they exift with us, the variations which discriminate them fhould have been produced. A decided purpofe of what we call Nature, is to give birth to variety ; and, according to a remark of Buffon himfelf, whatever can exift feems actu- ally to exift. She fports a thoufand ways in colour, maps and proportion, keeping only within the bounds neceffary to fecure the great purpofes of continuing and propagating exiftence. Why then flic aid migration be called in to fame an imagined genealogy of kindred tribes, which in one country as well as in another, ferve to fill up the great plan of being ? In the vegetable kingdom, wher , as migration cannot have taken place, except in cul- tivated plants, all variations in others mujft have been original, fcarcely an inftance con be found of perfectly fimilar ipicies exifting in the two great buffon's natural history. 103 I ; .ents, even where the generical refen.blances are moft flriking. But fo prepofieffed is BufFon againfl the notion of the original formation of refembling fpecies of animals m diftant parts of the world, that where he cannot deny their pre- sence, and is unable to conceive a natural .tion, he frequently invents the moil unlikely fuppofition of their conveyance by men ; and, on the other hand, he as frequently rejects, without reafon or authority, the ocular teflimony of tra- vellers to their being found in parts of the world where he does not choofe to admit them. Qi the means by which changes in original fpe- cies may be fuppofed to be effected, the principal are climate and domeftication. That both of thefe are capable of producing confiderable effects, we can fcarcely doubt ; and carefully to enquire into thefe* and from a feries of eftablifhed facts to de- a fcientific theory of this important part of the animal economy, would be a mod valuable ad- dition to phyfiology. But to employ them in the explanation of perplexing facts, at random and without any proper clue of known caufes and ; is rather to propagate eiror than true \ Yet this M. de Buifon perpetually does, an A more efpecially with regard to domeftication* ir by this vague term he underftands fueh a [ fubje&ion and fubferyiency to man as we fee in a horfe, and the dog; or fuch a lax con- nexion with him as fubiiits ii\ the cat and the 104 LETTER XIV ; pigeon, there is fcarcely a change in form and diC- pofition which he does not afcrite to it, as hypo- thefis may require. It can ennoble or debafe, en- large or diminifh, ftrengthen or enfeeble, jull as fuits the prefent occafion. It has given the camel his bunches and callonties, and has made the horfe Ileek and Fine-limbed. It has created all the va- rieties of fhape, fize, and inftinct, in the family of dogs, from the lap-dog to the mafciff, from the greyhound to the fpaniel. It operates even upon the free winged tribes ; and contaminates by a touch thofe who only approach it at a diftance. To deny the great effect, of Uniting and contrafting breeds, of feeding, houfmg, and exercifing the animals which man fclecls for his particular life, would be to betray grofs ignorance or prejudice. But, on the other hand, to extend the operation cf known caufes beyond all bounds of proof or analogy, and to apply iv?rds for the purpofe of argume.it, where the things are totally difllmilar, is to level all diilinclion between imagination and reafon. If doraeftication be ufed as a general term to ixprefs every aiTociatien between man and animals, it is obvious that to reafon with any accuracy en fe&Sj it muft be divided into different ftages* The firft is that in which they are merely fid un- confiaed ; man repaying himielf for this care by the opportunity cf making prize cf them more eanly when he wants then}. Wild raoLi:3 an J BUFFO N^fi NATURAL HISTORY. 10? pheafants are in this degree of dependence on mar.. It is but a little flep beyond this to provide I with a detached lodging, as pigeons in a dove- cote, cr even to confine them within bounds, provided an ample range be allowed them, as deer in a park- In all thefe cafes no other changes in them can be reafonably fuppofed, than fome dimi- nution of their natural fagacity and active powers, owing to the greater eafe they find in fubfifting, and perhaps, an improvement in fize and bulk in the individuals from their being better fed. A far- ther itage is that of animals kept in the fold and the yard, whofe whole fubftftence and protection depend on man, and who live with him and with the:.- fellow-fubjeet-S in a ftate of fbe'ety, but with- put constraint. This is the condition of demeftic fowl, and fwine. Among tljefe, varieties of fize and colour begin to (hew themfelves ; which, however, are probably owing not limply to their jlomeflication, but to the contrivance of men, in felecling peculiar individuals, or importing forejgn varieties, for the purpofe of propagating the breed ; for without this care, an uniformity foon cemes to prevail, with a fet of qualities, derived rather from climate, than from other circumflances. The mod complete flage of domefr.ication is that of dogs and of beafts of burden. Thefe are trained up to be the fervants or companions of man t and their natural qualities are all directed to this purpofe. They live a life of perpetual conflraint. lo6 LETTER. XIV. To inftincl: is fubftituted habit ; to native wants and defires, the will of a mailer. Their food, their Eng, their exercife, the propagation of their fpecies, are all fubjeft to artificial rules. By thefe* Variations in fize, fhape, colour, and faculties of all kinds, are carried to their utmoft extent. But m order to keep up to any given ftandard, a con- tinued attention and fuperintendence is neceffary ; for all thefe acquired variations are merely indi- vidual, or at leaft temporary, and the fpecies hay a perpetual tendency to relapfe to its natural model. From this principle, which I believe is univerfal, it appears an error to aflign a remote domeftica- tion of progenitors, as the caufe of fubfifting va- rieties in wild animals ; as it is likewife probably an error to impute any confiderable alterations to the very imperfect domeilicity in the ftages firft defcribed. No writer in Natural Hiflory dwells fo much as Buffon on the manners, and what may be called the moral character of animals. Thefe specula- tions are extremely curious and entertaining ; though you will readily conceive that in a writer cf a warm imagination and lively feelings they will be very apt to become fanciful and delufory. Thofe of Biiffon will probably often appear to you to deferve this character ; though on the other hand it rauft be acknowledged in their favour, that his perfonal obfervations have in many in- itances been conducted with the moft patient and BUFFON S NATURAL HISTORY. I07 minute attentions ; and certainly very few writer* have poffefled equal advantages with himfelf. He warns his readers againfl falling into the miftrke of attributing to animals the paflions and fenti- ments of men ; yet I cannot fay, that he always avoido it himfelf. On the v ffon is an author whom all may read with pleafure, but whom none but the informed and judicious can read with unmixed improvement. Farewel I ( *o8 ) LETTER XV. ON ORNAMENTAL GARDENING, DEAR SON, JlN one of my former letters I hinted a future ap- plication of the conilderations on nature and art and the love of novelty, to another of the fine arts ; and I mean now to perform my promife in fome remarks on Ornamental Gardening. There is nothing in which the Englifh tafte more triumphs, than in the change it has effected in the whole fyfcem of this art ; a change which for more than half a century has been gradually taking place, and may now be faid in this country to be complete. This confiils in entirely banifhing almoft every thing which conftituted the artifice and contrivance of ancient gardening, and in their {lead fubftituting a plan of embellifhed nature, imitative of the. fcenery of real h.ndCcipe, and of which the fundamental law is to exclude every ap- pearance of regularity. You have feen, I dcuht not with pleafure and admiration, feme cf the ORNAMENTAL GARDENING. IOO, fineft creations of this kind. To you they had all the graces of novelty ; and viewing them as a tran- sient fpe&ator, without the comparifon of a dif- ferent model in your mind, you have perhaps im- plicitly admitted the principles on which the new fyilem has obtained fo univerfal a preference to the old. Yet, on reflection, you will readily per- ceive the great mare fafhion muft have had in fuch a general alteration of tafle ; and you may be in- clined to examine the matter a little more clofely, not for the purpofe of knowing whether you ouglrt to have been pleafed with what you faw — for we ought always to be pleafed when we innocently can — but whether fomething very different might not pleafe as much, or more. Let us then enter upon a difquifition of this kind. The efTential idea of a garden^ as it has exifled in all ages and countries,_is that of a place, where, by the aid of culture, vegetable productions may be reared, more excellent in kind, and more pleafmg in diftribution, than the ordinary growth of nature. Even in the moil genial climates, it was found that flowers and fruits would be much improved by care and f election ; that a number of the nneft plants, greatly beyond the natural variety of any diflrict, might be accumulated in one fpot, and cleared of all mixture with the noxious and unfu htly ; while by fome artifice of arrangement, they might be preiented with mere advantage to the eye, and formed into pleafmg fpc-ctacles ci K 110 LETTER XV. novelty. In hot countries, the delicious luxury of cooling fhades and perpetual verdure might be en- joyed to far greater perfection in regular walks, be- neath trees fele&ed for beauty and fragrance, and bordered by rills which the hand of art had di- rected, than in the wild foreft, entangled with brakes, and rendered impaffable by monuTes. In cold and changeable climates, the fhelter of walls and hedges was abfolutely requifite for the prefer- vation of delicate vegetables, and during a con- siderable part of the year was agreeable to the perfon who wifhed to furvey their beauties. No pleafure derived from art has been fo uni- verfal as that taken in gardens. This, in the firfl place, was owing to the union of fimple gratifica- tions they afforded ; not fewer than four of the fenfes, the tafte, fmeU, fight, and feeling, being moil agreeably affected by horticulture. And if the refinements of ornamental gardening have ex- cluded the objects of the firil of thefe, it has been only to enjoy the reft in a move exquifite de- cree. For a garden, therefore, to be fragrant, gay, and refrefning, is as efTential, as for a 1 cufe to afford fnelter againft the inclemency cf the fea- fons, But the combination of different pleafmg forms into groups and competitions of novelty and beauty, is what Las given the art of gardening a place among the finer inventions of genius. And in iudo-inrr of the different ftyles of ornamental gardening, we are to endeavour to eifecver the ORNAMENTAL GARDENING. m principles bed adapted to produce happy effe&a of this kind. Formerly, the pleafure -garden was always con- fidercd as an appendage to the houfe ; its plan and decorations were therefore a fubcrdinate branch of architecture. That it fnould have been fo regarded, was very natural. To enjoy the pkafares of a garden to advantage, it was necelfary that they fnould be near. Its fragrance was received into the apartments of the houfe ; its walks invited even the indolent to faunter in the fun or repofe under the fnade ; and its gay forms and colours feafled the eye with variety of beauty within the fphere of diilinft vilion. Its flights of iteps, walls, porticos, and terraces, gave the architect an op- portunity of gradually letting down the maiTy height of his main edifice, and (hading off lTone into verdure. That fornething of this kind is wanted by the eye, will, I think, be acknowledged by every unprejudiced obferver at the firit view of a modern manuon, ruing unfuftained from the mid it of a naked lawn. Tixus reju 7 urify was a fundamental idea in planning a garden ; and in- flead of any endeavour to make it referable a na- tural fcene, every contrivance was ufed to produce artificial effects with the materials of nature. I can fcarcely admit, however-* that the leading principle of the art was, To form with verdure whaL the builder fcrrr/d With ftone ; K 2 H2 LETTER XV. for although trees cut into fhapes, and hedges fafhioned like walk, have cccafionally been intro- duced as objects of vulgar admiration, yet better taite h?s rather aimed at producing novelties more confonant to the effential character of garden fce- nery. Of feme of thefe, nature herfelf may be laid to have afforded the rude iketcb. Thus, a woodbine running from tree to tree, and encircling the tGps of bumes, formed a fort of flowering canopy, which agreeably meltered the wanderer from fun and Riower. Art caught the idea, and fafhioned an arlovr or ireUl&ge, the regular frame- work of which directed the rambling fprays to weave an impenetrable covering, at the fame time commodious and free. Thus, the velvet carpeting of the turfy down, plcafi ng to the eye and foft to the feet, was transferred to the " dry frnooth- Ihaven green." The advantageous elevation of the riling bank, was copied in a terrace. The fhady walk between lofty trees in a natural wood, was improved into the ftraight clear avenue; and the cafual arcades of intertwined thickets, fuggefled the clofe wall: overarched by bending hazels. Walks of gravel or grafs, laid down by line and rule, interfering flower-beds and mrubberies o£ regular and perhaps fanciful forms, not only ccr- refponded with the general regularity of the outline by which the garden was bounded, but amufed by perfpeclive effeds. Water fpouted up in a jet d'eau was a novelty, and certainly a very elegaajt ORNAMENTAL GARDENING. 11$ one. The bafon and long canal gave new ideas of liquid extenfion. Ornamental buildings, fta- tues, urns, and vafes, intermixed with fcenes of verdure and folitude, pleafed by the contrail they afforded to fimilar works of art in the ftreets and fquares of a city. A beautiful plant {hooting from the midil of rich carving:, over -which it threw its eafy foliage, had furcly as good a right to admira- tion, as the imitation of it in a Corinthian capital. Thefe, and a variety of other inventions which compofed the enchanted gardens of France and Italy, produced in a high degree the general refult of furprife. The garden was as much a creation of art, as the palace to which it belonged ; and in both, after the purpofes of utility were anfwered (by which, in the garden, I mean the fimple gra- tifications cf the fenfes afforded by the cultivation of vegetables) the remainder was addreffed to the Lve of novelty. And as it is the chara&eriftic of nature in all her works, to fhun regularity, fo when art attempted to produce novelty, regularity of difpofition was the firft thing thought of. The fame difference that exifts between the rocky cave or woodland med, and an edifice of Rone cr tim- ber, was conceived to difthiguilh the flowery mea- dow or thicket, from the cultured garden. This idea was fo obvious, that I think it wants no de- fence; but we are now to confider whether the late refinement of bani/hing all regularity, and employing art only to produce a copy cf betmtil 1 K 3 1*4 L E T T E R X7. nature, be capable of yielding, on the whole, « greater degree of pleafure. As an objection to the old flyle it has been made a kind of univerfal maxim, " That the appear- ance of art always difgufts ;" but I do not difco- ver upon what principle this is founded. The footfteps of art indicate invention, induilry, order — they are the footfteps of man. In moil ■works of the artift they cannot be concealed ; and the very endeavour to conceal them is fuch an ex- ertion of art as muft difcover itfelf. If then, it is intended by the contrivances of modern garden- ing to delude the fpe&ator with an idea that the fcenes he beholds are really natural, it is certain that the attempt will not fucceed. Nor, indeed, can the owner of the coftly and laboured plan ever wifn it to fucceed. The pride of art and of opu- lence will not fufFer this wifn. Yet many of the rules of tafle feem to have no other foundation than to fofter fuch an illufion. When the Poet of .the Engli/h Garden thinks it hecefiary to give a long receipt in verfe how to make green paint, for the purpofe of rendering mvifible the rails which are to feparate the pallure from the lawn, we may be permitted to. regret that either the poet or the painter mould employ their art on an object fo tri- vial. I am fenfible, indeed, that in this cafe pride finds a gratification from an artifice which is to deceive the fpeclator into a belief, that the ex- tent of its pofleiiious are only terminated by tlic ORNAMENTAL GARD NIN(3. « ' $ diftant horizon. This is with many the true in- terpretation of the precept, to " call in the coun- try" — to make it pafs for their own. 13 ut we will quit the deceptions of modern gar- dening, and fairly compare it with the ancient, with refpeel to the beauties they are both capable cf producing. The free graces of nature, it is faid, and with juftice, yield a perpetual fund of variety ; while the regularity of art cannot avoid a conftant tendency to a tirefome uniformity. Whatever, therefore, there be of novelty in the lingular fcenery of an artificial garden, it is foon exhaufted ; whereas the infinite diverfity of a na- tural landfcape prefents an inexhauflible ftore of new forms. It is added, that the forms of nature are intrinfically more beautiful than thofe of art ; that the flowing ftrokes of the former, compared with the ftraight lines and (harp angles of the latter, conftitute the efiential diflmction between grace and ftnfnefs. Even moral ideas are brought in to decide the preference ; and a tafbe for nature is faid to be equivalent to a love of liberty and truth ; while the votaries of art are pronounced fiaves to formality and conftraint. As I think there are few more impaiTioned admirers of nature in all her forms than nryfelf, I will venture to refer to my own feelings on the occafion. Thefe ii form me, that the pleafures to be derived from 3 fcenery of a fine country, are, indeed, fuperior to any which art caa beftcw. Arcbi- uS LETTER XV. te&ure, painting, gardening, all fink to toys be- fore them. But the comparifon is not between a landscape and a garden, but between one ftyle of gardening and another ; and conceiving myfelf to refide in the midft of natural beauties, which I may not at all times be able or difpofed to enjoy, I confider what fupplemental pleafures can beft nil up the vacancy. In this view, a garden, con- reded with the houfe, lying direftly beneath the eye, presenting forms novel from their regularity, and rich in artificial ornament, offering choice of fun and (hade, of warmth and coolnefs, as the feafon may require, and gradually fubfiding into the uncultured wildnefs of nature — ^oes in reality feem preferable to an imitation of thofe very fcenes with which I fuppofe myfelf already fatiated. This imitation, if it be in a large ftyle, is indeed the thing itfelf. To roll a river through a new channel, to fpread out a lake, raife mountains, fcoop out vales, and plant forefts, is to create a country— a noble "effort, certainly, in thofe who have compafs and fortune fufficient for the pur- pofe, and who inhabit a diftrict fcantily provided with natural charms. But this, in my idea, is a flight beyond gardening ; and if attempted in the limits of a few acres, produces only laboured lit- tlenefs. The tumbling rills of the Leafowes were fuch miniature cafcades, that they appeared more like fta^e fcenery than cbjecls of romantic nature. And the level la » kmi cf their Bat - I - m r • .- F the true critic s k pber, o . how .• art : If : poem be a repi ..'. - t be . . . - tuf I :..;i: | an I - f . ; mote : that a '. . .. i» i - ^ - --• f " • as . « ■". .... led . I heir: i derived f *ftk of a predecefibr. the ancient ruk - -"■'! 1 tin ground were "d -.'..:. popl's essay on criticism. 125 only " nature methodized," he gives a jull notion of what they ought to be. But when he fiippofei Virgil to have been properly "checked in h'.s bold delign of drawing from Nature's fountains," and in confequence to have confined his work within rules as ftric.1 As if the Stagyrite o'erlook'd each line, how can he avoid the force of his own ridicule, where a little further in this very piece, he laughs at Dennis for Concluding all were defperate fots and fools Who durit depart from Arifiotle's rules? Such are the inconfifcencies of a writer who fometiines utters notions derived from reading and education, fbmetimes the fuggeflions of native good fenfe ! Some beauties yet no precepts can declare, If the meaning of the writer here is only, that rules will not ftand inftead of genius, and that a poet's greatefl beauties are rather the refult of a happy flow of fancy, than the careful purfuit of precepts, the truth of the remark is indisputable. But if, applying to the critic, he means to tell him that certain poetical beauties are irreducible to ra- tional principles, and only to be referred to fuel, , a brave difordsr, and fuch other unmeaning L 3 125 LETTER. XV Jf. notions, we may afiert that he was indeed young in the phihfophy of cfiticifm. He appears, how- ever, to have been in the right train, when he fays, that where the lucky Ucsuce anfwers its pur- pofc, tiiat Licence is a rule ; but he cenfufss all again by the often-quoted maxim, Greet Wits fomctirnes may glorioufly oferd,. And rXe to faults true Critics dare rot mend. for he fought rather to have concluded, that fuoh fuccefsful deviations from common pracxice are not faults ; and that the true critic mould enlarge his rules to the comprehenfion of thefe real, though unufual, excellencies. So much, indeed, does he perplex himfelf between veneration for ancient rules, and regard to the practice of eminent poets, that the whole pafTage is full of ccntradiclior.s, which ceil his commentator much fruitlefs pains to reconcile, and oblige him to take fhelter in a comparlfon between the fublimities .of poetry, and the my^enes of religion, " feme of which are above reafen, and fome contrary to it." Pope goes en to cbferve, that though the an- cients may make thus free with their own rules, yet that modern writers il-.ov.ld copy this indul- gence with caution, and not without " their pre- t to ph:ad." On the contrary, a liberal ni3_*e pope's essay on criticism. 127 of reafoning would allow more freedom to the moderns, who po fiefs fuch ftores of new ideas, to deviate from ancient rules, than to the ancients who made and acknowledged them. Thofe oft are {Irntagems which errors feem, Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream. Either Steele or Addifon, in one of his periodical papers, humouroufly delires his reader, when he finds him dull, to fuppofe he has a defign in it. Tin's doctrine is here ferioufly inculcated with re- fpect to the ancients ; but its abfurdity is fo mani- feft, that we may regard it only as the lively (ally of a young author who was fond of faying fmart ihmgo, without being felicitous about their truth. A judicious poet may defignedly uttder-write fome parts cf a long work, or, rather, he will find it impoiTible to be every v?here equally brilliant, but he will never with defign write what is childiin and infipid, if he thinks it to be fuch. Hail Bards triumphant, born in TIJ3 nobis eulogy on the poets of antiquity is rot to be admitted without many exceptions and limitations ; efpecially if it is meant to extend to all that unequal and motley affemhlage cf writers known by the title of the c/.j/^cs. Of thefe, many are valued and read merely bccnule they are an- cients ; and even the moft excellent afiford fuiBG k?.pe for manly criticilm, which can never arrive 12% LETTER XVI. at folidity of principles, if it is obliged to regard the negligences and defects of great writers with filent reverence. True Wit is Nature to advantage drefs'd, What oft was thought, but ne'er fo well exprefsM; Something, whofe truth convinced at fight we hnd, That gives us back the image of our mind. The poet in cenfuring the narrow and partial tafies of fome critics, begins with that for conceit, or a glitter of dazzling thoughts rifing one after another without meaning and connexion. This is, falfe zuit ; as a contrail to which, he gives a defi- nition of the true, in the preceding lines. But he has evidently, by this purpofe of contrailing the two kinds, been led to a description which exhibits none of the peculiar features of wit, as other writers have reprefented it, or as he himfeif ufually underftands it. By this definition, any jufl moral fentiment, any exact picture of a natural object, if clothed in good exprefnon, would be wit. Its ted being an agreement with images previously exiiling in our own minds, no other quality is re- quilite to it but truth. Even uncommonnefs is not taken into the character ; for we mull often have thought it, and be abfe to recognize it at fight* Nor has he riven any diftinct idea of that coven- tagtous drefs which makes a natural thought witty. No drefs can fuit fome thoughts fo well as the raoft fimple. Exalted fentiments , of the heart, and pope's essay on criticism. 129 iablimc objects in nature, generally ftrike rnoft when prefented in language the leaft fludied. In- deed, he ufes, within a few lines, the very fame metaphor of drefs, in exposing the finica 1 tafte cf thofe who value a work for the ityle rather than the fenfe ; and the fact certainly is, that the moil confeiTedly witty writers have often been little foli- citous as to the manner of exprehing their notions. Pope evidently entertains a different conception of wit from that of the definition above quoted, in the lines immediately following. /,s fiiades morefwectly recommend the light, So mode ft plainnefs fets off fprightly wit, For works may have more wit than does them good, As bodies perifb thro' excefs of blood. Now, " modeft plainnefs" is no foil or contrail to wit as characterized in the definition, becaufe it may be the moil " advantageous drefs" for a thought. Again, that wit which may fuperabound in a work, muft be a different thing from " natural imagery joined to good exprefficn," for in thofe, what danger can there be cf excefs ? He was certainly new recurring in his mind to thofe bril- liant flames, which, though often introduced with faife judgment, are not, however, falfe wit. The two characters cf lad critic and bad poet are grofsly confounded in the paffage relating to poetical numbers ; for though it be true, that vulgar readers cf poetry are chiefly attentive to the me> ICO LETTER XVI, lody cf the verfe, yet it is net they who *dmirt% but the paltry ver/tfier, who employs monotonous fyllables, feeble expletives, and a dull routine cf unvaried rhymes. Again, an ordinary ear is capa- ble cf perceiving the beauty arifing from the found being made an echo to the fenfe — indeed it is one of the moil obvious beauties in poetry — but it is D3 eafy tafk for the poet to fucceed in his attempts to render it fo, as Pope has fufEciently proved by the miferable failure of feme of his examples in illuftration cf the precept. The pow'r of mafic a T l our hearts allow, And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now. Mufic, properly fo called, and the melody refult- In^ from verification, are things radically different in their nature and principles, though perpetually confounded in the figurative language of poets and writers on polite literature. Nor, indeed, do we poffefs terms by which thefe two kinds of pleafing founi can well be feparately defcribed. The names and characters, however, of pcet and mufi- cian, are fufficiently difcriminated ; and Fope has committed a grofs error in confounding them in the prefent inftance. There is no refemblance be- tween the manner in which Alexander was affect- ed by the mvjic of Timotheus, and that' in which we are affected by the poetry of Dryden defcriptive of that event. The firfc was, as flory relates, an inftance of the powers of pure found, fkilfuiy pope's lssay on criticism. 131 modulated and changed. The latter is a mod ani- mated picture of fuccefiive difplays of paffion ; and much more refembles the erred of a hiftory-paint- ing, than of a piece of mufic. The mere verifi- cation is a very inferior point in Dryden's Ode, though it is a principal one in Pope's rival Ode on St. Cecilia's day. Alexander's Feaft fet to Han- del's mufic may, indeed, be paralleled to the per- formance of the Grecian ; but then Handel, and not Dryden, is the modern Timotheus. It is ludi- crous enough, that Pope's comparifcn of ryden to a harper, fnould come fo near to the idea form- ed of Pope himfelf by a crowned head, who is reported, on hearing the poet greatly extolled in his prefence, with a view of attracting his notice, to have aikeu, if Mr. Pope were a fiddler. Fools admire, but men of fenfe approve. This prudifh fentence has probably made as many formal coxcombs in literature, as Lord Chef- terneld's opinion on the vulgarity of laughter, has among men of high breeding. As a general maxim, it has no foundation whatever in truth. Prone- nefs to admiration is a quality rathsr of temper than of understanding ; and if it often attends light minds, it is alk> infeparable from that warmth of imagination which is requiiite for the ftrong perception of what is excellent in art and nature. Innumerable inflances might be produced of the rapturous admiration with which men cf genius 132 LETTER XVI. have been ilruck at the view of great perform- ances. It is enough here to mention the poet's favourite critic, Longinus, who is far from being contented with cool approbation, but gives free fcope to the moft enraptured praife. Few things indicate a mind more unfavourably conftituted for the fine arts, than a flownefs in being moved to the admiration of excellence ; and it is certainly better that this paflion mould at firfl be excited by objeds rather inadequate, than that it mould not be ex- cited at all. After properly exhorting his critic to candour and good-nature, the poet is, however, indulgent enough to point out feme topics on which he may be as four and fevere as he pleafes. The firft fault given up to his rage is Obfcenky ; and coubtlefs, if the critic think it worth his while to direct his formidable artillery againft fuch an obvious violation of propriety, no friend of virtue and decorum Will reftrain him. It was not, however perfectly decent in Pope to exprefs fuch a rigid zeal on this f«bje£t, when icveral of his own juvenile pieces, full pre- served in all editions of hi^ work, are by no raeanq free from the blemifn he ftigmatizes. The next devoted crin.e i; Now, a perfon may be very convciiant with the rules of poetical cnticTm, without being able exa&ly to determine on the validity of a charge of impiety; and there is reafon to fufp.c: that cur young lawgiver was kimfelf in this cafe. Tie fays, pope's essay on criticism. X35 The following licence of a foreign reign Did al. the dregs of bo.d Socinus drain ; Then unbelieving Priefts reform'd the nation, And taught more pleafant methods cf falvation. Socinian is a very potent term of abufe, and has, at various periods, been applied with fingular ad- vantage by thofe who wimed to render their anta- gonills odious ; yet the religion Socinus profefled will bear comparifon, in point of fervency and purity, with that of the moft faintly names upon record. As to the " more pleafant methods of falvation," we are told by the right reverend anno- tator (a much better authority on this fubject. than the poet) that they were the duties of Chriftian morality, which fucceeded the doctrines of grace and fatisfadiion held in the preceding age. Now, that thefe new divines offered falvation upon eafier terms than their predeceiTors, by fubftituti rg prac- tice to belief, and a man's own efforts to vicarious fatisfaction, is not a very obvious fact. ; nor is it a neceiTary confequence of fuch tenets, that " vice mould find a flatterer in the pulpit." '< Such Monfters," whatever the poet might think, Ere not to be fubdued by the thunders cf belles-lettres cri- tics, but by the adamantine weapons of found ar- gument. Here I clofe my remarks on this performance. It would be no difficult talk to adduce from it many more inilances of mallow judgment on books and things, either incidentally mentioned, or defignei M 134 LETTER XVI. as exemplifications of his rules ; but my purpofe was to mew you how little it deferves the high eflimation in which it has been held as a didactic work. This, I trufc, has fufnciently appeared, from the vague and inconfequent manner of thinking on fundamental points, difplayed in the cited paffages. The character of a confummate critic at twenty is what Pope may well refign, and dill retain enough cf juft reputation to place him in the moil confpicuous rank of Englifn literature. Farewel I ( Ht ) L E T T E K XVII. ON THE ANALOGY BETWEEN MENTAL AND BODILY DISEASE. DEAR S oN, T lias been afferted, that every man's way of fekinkiag takes a tinge from his profeihon or man- ner of life. Of the truth of this remark I am personally fenfible, from the habit I have formed of applying medical ideas to moral fubjeels. It is, indeed, nothing new to regard all mental vices Had defects as fo many difeafes of that part of cur frame ; and moralifb of all ages have been fend of running companions between maladies of the body and the mind. Yet I cannot but think, that fomethiag ftill remains to be dene in the practical application of the da&rine ; and that it is cf im- portance, both with reflect to the fuccefsful treat- ment of mental clkT.itz, and to the preservation of our tranquility under a view of the evils c ': that this refemblance mould be ftrongly iasprefied on our thoughts. M 2 2^6 LETTER r>- One confequence would undoubtedly be the re- fult ; that we fhould not expecl to cure thefe dif- orders by trifling and cafnal remedies, but mould fix our confidence folely on fome vigorous plan, confifting in the refolute application of cppofdes, upon the medical maxim, coniraria, contrariorum ejfe remedla. It is the want of power or resolution to put in practice this grand principle of the healing art, that renders moral diilempers in general fo inveterate. What can be relied upon to cppofe ftrong natural inclination, conilant example, and confirmed habit, but fome agent equally powerful, which fhall, not in the way of perfuafion, but by coercive fores, be employed to draw over the mind to a contrary ftate of feeling? Where this can be put in practice, there is no cafe of moral depra- vity fo defperate as to be without the hope, nay, perhaps, without the certainty, of a cure ; where it cannot, the (lighted vitiation is hardly to be re- moved. It is not without experience that I fpeak ia this matter. More than once has it happened to me to hz confulted as a friend on becaiion of the difcovery of very ruinous tendencies in young perfons. In thefe inftahces, diffuading ail petty expedients, I recommended fuch a total change of external circumftances, as would of necejjiiy induce as complete a change of views and habits ; — and the event juftified my advice. That this was a right method, was, indeed, fuiriciently obvious j but it might not be fo obvious that it was the only- MENTAL DISEASE. 137 right one ; at leaft, parental indulgence is fre- quently glad to fhelter itfelf under the plaufil of fome lefs decifive mode of proceeding. But to one who has a juft notion of the operation of mo- tives upon the mind, it will be very apparent, that as long as thofe which are induced for the purpofe .of remedy continue inferior in force to thofe which nourilh the difeafe, no benefit whatever can be expected from their application. Actions, which we would avert will either be done, or not be done. They will infallibly be done, if the motives for them preponderate ; they will not be done, if the contrary takes place. There is no medium ; and fuch is the power of habit, that every inftance either of yielding or of refiilinp-, favours a fhnilar termination when the trial next occurs. Whence may be demonjQtratively (hewn the weaknefs of ex- pe&ing any advantage from the mere repetition cf efforts that have already proved unavailing. You are better acquainted than myfelf with the fcholailic comroverfles concerning liberty and nc- ceffity. I frequently hear them called mere logo- machies, and fuch I am inclined to fuppofe they are, when carried to their ittmoft degree of ab- fraction. But that they are not entirely without practical effects upon common minds, I am from observation convinced ; and in particular, I have no doubt that the tendency of the popular notions ■ man's free agency, h to inipire too lidence in the e!ncacy c: the feebler aids M 3 ' *3$ LETTER XVfr. to morality, fuch as precept and argument aticn. By thofe who entertain exalted ideas of the fd£ determining power of the foul, it is readily con- ceived, that placing before it an irrefragable fyllo- gifm in favour of virtue can fcarcely fail to enable it to refill all the allurements of vice. But the poet could long ago pronounce, " Video meliora, probcque, deteriora fequor f* the true interpreta- tion of which is, that conviction of 'the under- ftanding is not the flrongeii motive that can be prefented to the human mind. A perfon cannot have furveyed mankind with an attentive eye, without perceiving in many cafes fuch an irreiiitible feries of caufes operating in the formation of character, as muft convince him of the actual exiftence of a moral necefiity ; — that is, of fuch an overbearing prepcilency of motives tending to one point, that in ro one inilant of a man's life could he be fuppofed capable of a courfe of action different from that he has really adopted. Purfue an individual belonging to any one of the ftronglywaiarked clafTes of fociety from the cradle to the grave, and fee if the procefs of fixing his character has not been as regular and unalterable as that of his bodily conflitution. Take one of thofe, too frequent in this great metropolis, who may be faid to be fuckled with vice and infamy, the breed of a proflitute and houfebreaker, born and educated in. the precincts of St. Giles's. With the firft ufc of language he learns blafphenry MENTAL DISEASE. I3f •and obfcenity ; his little hands are pra&ifed in pick- ing pockets, and his infant underftanding in fram- ing tricks and falfehoods. His early pleafures are dram drinking and debauchery cf every fpecies ; and when not roufed by appetite or compulfion, he pafTes away the time in the ftupidity of floth. He fees nothing before him but adts of rapine, cruelty, and brutality. Chailifements teach him craft, and inflame his paffion for mifchief. Not only the du- ties of religion and the obligations of virtue are things utterly beyond his comprehension, but he is a perfect ftranger to all the comforts of decent life. Thus by the all-powerful force of education and habit, he is formed into the character of a ferocious beaft ; certain to end his life by violence, if it be not foon^r cut off by the confequences of intem- perance. This, it will be faid, is an extreme cafe ; but evefrin the oppofite rank of fociety, among thofe who, as we commonly fay, may live as they like, inftances may be found of equal fubjugation to the law of neceffity. Take the heir to a large entailed eftate, brought up while a child in a houfe dtftin- . gushed for riotous luxury and irregularity. Let him be nurfed in ideas of felf-confequence, flattered by obfequious fervants, and indulged in every ca- price of appetite and pafiion by weak or negligent parents. Transfer him to a public fchool, with a large allowance of pocket-money ; and thence. When riibjr to manhood, to fen:: vented collet ha 14° letter. xv:r. an university.-- Then fend him on his travels, ae* compared by an ignorant mercenary tutor. Let him make a due flay in every corrupt metropolis in Europe, the refort of his idle countrymen ; and finiih by Jludying the tsnvn in his own. Laftly, return him with a complete apparatus of guns, horfes and hounds to his native woods, there to refide the uncontroled lord of a herd of tenants and dependants, with no other object in life thari to take his pleafure and maintain his hereditary fway. Is it in the nature of things pofftble that this man mould turn out any thing elfe than a low- minded, brutal, tyrannical debauchee ? The phyfician knows that certain modes of liv- ing will infallibly bring on certain difeafes, which will defcend from parents to children, and can never be extirpated as long as the original caufes prevail. The moralift may equally foretel certain vices as the confequence of certain conditions and manners in fociety, which will prove unconquer- able while circumftances remain the fame. The morbid tendency in both cafes is too ftrcng to be counteracted by common remedies. Nothing but a total change of habit, effected by means equally •powerful and long-continued with thole which bred the malady, can work a cure. To eftablifb fuch an alterative plan ha* been the aim of all the great reformers of mankind. It was that, you know, of cuv rnofl levered friend, Mr. Reward, who was fenfible v/L:rt a c&r&binafcien cf Dosrg&ivi MENTAL DISEASE. I4.I powers was neceffary to produce any confiderable and lading effects upon perfons long hardened by- criminal courfes. But fuch coercive methods can only, in the common Hate of things, be applied to thofe who have made themfelves the objects of legal puniihment. For the reformation of a whole people, and especially of the higher clafies, nothing can be relied upon but one of thofe grand remedial procsjfesy which are probably within the moral plan of Providence. Nations whom a long courfe of profperity has rendered vain, arrogant, and lux- urious, in whom increafing opulence has generated increafed wants and deiires, for the gratification of which all barriers of honour and juftice are broken down, who are arrived at that ftate in which, ac- cording to the energetic expreffion of the Roman hiftorian, they can neither bear their vices nor the remedies of them ; — are only to be brought back to a right fenfe of things by feme fignal cataf- trophe, which mall change the whole form of their affairs, and oblige them to fet out afrefh, as it were, in the world. A conviction that fuch events are neceffary f and that they are kindly intended as remedies of greater evils than they immediately occafion, is the only confideration that can tran- quilife the heart of a benevolent man who lives in a period when thefe awful operations are in a pe- culiar manner carrying on.* It may reconcile him $- Soiet fieri. Hoc parum eft : debuit fieri. Docernuntur iita, non accidunt. SEiiEC. Epift. I4 2 LETTER XVII. to the various delays and fluctuations in the pro- grefs towards a final event which he cannot but ardently defirc. It may convince him that nothing is lojl ; that no evils are without their correfpon- dent benefits ; and that when he wimes for a foeedy fettlement of things by the quiet operation of rea- fon, without any of the harm methods by which fcubhorn vices are to be forcibly eradicated, he •wimes for an impracticability as great, as the fur- geon who would hope to cure an inveterate cancer without the knife or the cauftic. Thefe are times, my Son, m which reflections of this kind are particularly feafonabfe. You are capable of giving them their due force ; and even mould you find yourfelf totally miftaken in your expectations as to the reiult of fuppofed remedial frroceiTes, you are provided with principles which will enable you to acquiefce in the humble confi- dence that, however diftant, the time will come, when all evils both natural and moral (hall receive their final cure. ( H3 ) LETTER XVIII. ON SPLLEN AND LOW SPIRITS. O not be alarmed, my dear Son, at the fubjedt of my prefent letter. It is not becaufe I have ob- ferved in you any indications of a tendency to loiv fpirits that I make them my topic, but becaufe I know them to be the malady that moft eafily befets perfons of a literary turn and fedentary profeffion. And however youth and variety of purfuit may at prefent fecure you againft their attacks, the time will probably come, when it will require fome effort on your part to refill an enemy, whofe af- faults become continually more and more pertina- cious, with lefs and lefs power to repel them. So general, indeed, is the evil of low fpirits in certain conditions, that I confider it as the grand leveller of human life — the malignant fpell that renders all the diitin&ions of rank, knowl and understanding, almcit totally inefficacious in creating thole differences' of degree m hap that mould feem almeft neccrFarily to refult from 144 LETTER XVIII. them. It is that which makes the fplendid palace and luxurious banquet of the nobleman lefs plea- fant to him than his poor hut and coarfe meal to the labourer ; — which defeats the well-imagined fchemes of enjoyment from liberal curiofity and literary leifure ; — which infufes liillefmefs and dif- guft amid the moil fludied refinements of public amuiement ; — which, in fhort, fooner or later, gives convincing proof of the vanity of expecting to live happily by living only to be entertained. This malady, under the name of Spleen, has been the fubject of a variety cf publications, ferious and humourous, moral and medical. Among the reft, it has given title to one of the moil original poems in our language, replete with wit, imagery, and cbfervation of mankind in an uncommon degree. I need fcarcely tell you that I mean Green's pctm of the Spleen. The author feems, like Horace, to have roved through the regions of phiiofophica! Speculation without any decifive choice, till at length he fettled in a refined and rational epicurifm. His favourite maxim is, to let the world glide by, view- ing its mifting fcenes as objects of amufement, without being enough interefted in any to feel acutely from difappointment. His is the philofo- phy of good-humoured Speculative indolence ; and if a man wants excufes for fitting Hill and avoiding every caufe of trouble and vexation, he can no where furnifh himfelf with happier quotation Who has not heard of SELLl'N AND LOW SPIRITS. 1 4"5 Reform, ng fchemes are none of mine, To mead the world' a va-t defign, Lirie taeirs, who ftnve in little boac To tug to them the ihip afloat, &c. The principle of this, that Zeal when hafSed turns to Spleen, mull be ad nitted to have fome foundation in fact ; and may juftly be pleaded agamft the indulgence of eager wiihes a d extravagant expectation in public : yet I canaot but think, on the h id, that to inculcate indifference to all objects which are moft capable of roufi and giving employment to its nobleit facul- fci - not the bell a ':eep ; :ig off that lift- lefs languor which is the parent of fpleen. In {bort, though the perufal of Mr. Green's poem may prove an effe&ual remedy for an fit ok low fpirits, yet I am of opinion, that the courfe of amufive fpeculation it fo pleaiingry fagged?, with the vac n all cares and duties, public and : \ will hot anfvver as the general regimen agamft this difeafe of the mind. Were I to trea: nedicatty o i this fobjed, I .' lay a very particular firefs upon 1emperar.ee as the ictie ; and I mould e the word : ' .: a more than its ufual iio-nification. A r every cay on a va iety of d i -.tile of wine to warn it down, feems in j.u nan opinion perfeifHy compatible with a 146 letter xvm. plan of flrict temperance ; and if it be preceded by a regular morning's ride to get a hearty appetite for this dinner, every thing is thought to have been done that men could do for the picfervation of health and fpirits. Let gout and hypochondria come when they will, the mode of living is not to be blamed — the one is hereditary, the other con- flitutional. This do&rine may pafs for orthodox in the medico-moral cafuiftry of a visitation or cor- poration-feaft ; but it is neverthelefs indubitably true, that mch a good liver has no more right to expect equal and unclouded fpirits, than a minifter of Hate has, an unfpotted reputation and clear con- fcience. But I (hall dwell no longer on this topic, and proceed to that part of the regimen which re- lates more immediately to the mind. This reRs upon a fimple foundation ; for were I aiked, upon what circumflance the prevention of low fpirits chiefly depended, I fhculd borrow the ancient orator's mode of enforcing the leading prin- ciple of his art, and reply, employment, employment, employment ! This is the grand panacea for the tad'tum vit£ 9 and all the train of fancied evils, which prove fo much more inf-pp or table than reel one-s. It is a medicine that may be prefented in a thoufand forms, all equally efficacious. It may be compounded of all the different proportions of mental and bodily exertion ; nay, it may be fclely the one or the other, provided it be employment. For I will not beiitate to aiTert, that to have the SPLEEN AND LOW SPIRITS. T^l? ind ardently engaged in a purfuit that totally ex- cl ides exercife of the body, is much more favour- able to the fpirits, than a languid mixture of both. ,rc apt to pity a perfbn occupied by humour or neceffity in a talk which we think dull and tirefome-. Our companion is here miiplaced. No taik heartily entered upon can be tirefome, and a I ■," rfs is always better than an amufsment. I have no doubt that Dr. Johnfon was much happier while compiling his dictionary, than in the luxurious in- d dence of Streatham. And what beta confei nefs cf the necefhty of employmenl to his < could have induced him, in the laft years of 1 is melancholy life, to make ferious proposals icr a translation of Thuanus ? A late tranflator of Homer, whofe admirable original productions I led many to lament that he mould have been fo employed, has in truly pathetic language taken an afFe&ionate leave cf his long work, as the i folace of many and many an hour, which by its means was made to glide by uncounted. And, I fear, the innate melancholy of genius has rend him too crood a fudge of the value of fueh a rel Tee ani\ve;ing this purpofe, the fpecies of employ- ment muil be one which does not frnriri the facul- ties to their higher!: pitch ; for fuch an exertion can he fupported, by common minds, at Ieaft, only during a fhort propo^eion cf time. A fleady i equable occupation, requiring rather care and dili- gence, than flights of fancy or the powers of in- .. I48 LETTER XVI.' I. -vention, is the proper fiapU (if I may fo call it) fef a well-employed life. With refpeft to the numerous body of thoie who iftay be idle if they pleafe, they will find coi iihcuky, as well Id the choice of proper em- tent, as in the exertion of refcluticn enough for the vigorous performance of a fpentaneous talk, A majority of them w31, therefore, be doomed to the intrusions cf Spleen, at inl neither active pleafure nor bufineis pre the nlind from its attacks. B-Jt this is no ether than the necefTary confluence cf fituatione of He - artificial, and which make no part of the ' ! plan of human nature, ho are ambitions of lUticiis in which there are no . to perform, ne - fcs to exert'on, v v to poffefs that corflant ch^ ' - is the fclace of tcih and the 1 cfeful ac- tivity. Providence cats inly never intended to . a difference between creatures cf ks hand, as that i 11 Dnly to enjoy, others live J only to be the roiniftres of the enjoy- ments. Though in an advanced ilage 0/ f( many mult be exempted from the fentence cf eat- . i . ' at cf their brow, yet it is an immutable decree, that the oil of gladneis {hall brighten the face cf induilry alcne. For myfelf and my children., there is no danger left we mould come to want motives for the regu- lar employment of the faculties bellowed upon us,. SPLEEN AND LOW SPIRITS. 149 Let us not murmur at the kind operation of fuch a necefiity. For how much "Virtue and happinefs are not men indebted to that conilitution of things, which impofes upon them an obligation to act and to refrain ! Farewel ! P. S. Since I wrote this letter, I have been perufing a Difcourfe in which the benefits refulting from employment are confidered with reference to the great fyftem eftablifned by the Deity, whereby perfonal and general happinefs are in (o admirable a manner made to coincide. It is there particu- larly (hewn, how occupation contributes to our hap- pinefs by inducing a temporary forgetfulnefs of Jelf ; nothing being fo much the bane of enjoy- ment, as the reference of our actions to the felfjh principle. This excellent piece, which I cannot too warmly recommend to your attention, is Dr. Pneftley's Sermon on the Duty of not living to puffeives* N 3 ( ^50 ) LETTER XIX. ON CONSOLATION. \ DEAR SON, T OUR intended profeflion refembks mine irt this refpe6t, that it is a duty frequently belonging to each, to adminifter confolation under the fe- vereft diitrefs human nature can feel — that arifing from the lofs of friends by death. In mine, in- deed, the office is rather fpontaneous than pro- fefiional ; and the houfe of difeafe is generally quitted by the phyfician when it becomes the houfe of mourning. But where attachments of friend - mip have made us fomewhat more to a family than mere fee'd attendants (and no profeflion fo much favours thofe attachments) we cannot hurry away from the fcene of affliction. Though our art hzs failed, our counfel and fympathy may be advanta- geoufly employed to alleviate human mi.ery ; and callous indeed mull his heart be, who is capable of refuting his confolatory aid on the plea, it is not my buunefs. In fact, few perfons will be found on consolat:c?;. *$! better acquainted with practical confutation than the medical faculty ; and if any experience I may have acquired in this matter can be of fervice to you, to whom it will be truly a profefTional con- cern, you will thank me for communicating it. Wkh refpecl to the confolatory views that reli- gion affords, highly as I think of their efficacy, particularly of that derived from the habit of Sub- mitting to the difpenfations of Providence in full confidence of their kind purpofe, I fhall not at prefent touch upon them. It is unnecefTary for me to fuggeft fuch confiderations to you. I fhall coniine myielf ftri&ly to topics which refer to this world, and to cur own powers in fubduing the imprefnons of grief. But as we cannot expect to be fuccefsful in removing effects, without a thorough knowledge of their caufe, it will be r.ecelTary to begin with confiderir.7 what is the real caufe of the fprrow we feel from the lofs of friends. I am very far from agreeing with thofe who refer all cur fyrnpathetic emotions to felf. I am fu e that the feelings with which we beheld the fuffej- ings of a fellow-creature are generally void of the remoteft reference to cur own condition. While, then, a dear friend is lying before us in the agonies of a fevere difeafe, our fympathy is pure ; it is di- rected to him, without any mixture of felfifh con- tions. But when the ftruggle is clofed by death, the cafe is entirely changed. If his life was o little confequenc* to cur hapoiaefs, tie mind Ij"2 LETTER XIX. inftantly feels relieved of her burden ; and the tender regret which remains, is rather a foothing than a diftrefsful fenfation. It is thus we feel when the infirmities of a good old age are brought to their period, and when long and hopelefs difeafe, which deftroyed all the ends of living, receives its final cure. But when our deareil interefts were at flake in the life of our friend, the inftant of the total extinction of hope, is that of the moft exqui- site pang of grief. The very rage and ftorm of forrow then rifes ; and the fenfe of lofs rufhes upon the mind in all the black colouring of defpair. Here it is impoffible not to recognize ^.feljijh caufe of grief. It may, indeed, be fomewhat tinged with remaining pity for the fufferer : but the great ob- ject of pity is felf; and the feeling of deprivation is in fubftance the fame as that proceeding from the lofs of any other worldly comfort. The real mea- fure, then, of affliction on fuch cccafions, is the degree in which the mourner's happinefs was de- pendent on the life of the deceafed ; and i£ we were able exactly to eftimate this for another per- fon, we might certainly foretel the range of his prefent and future diftrefs. Such an eftimate, however, is difficult to make ; for the fources of enjoyment, and confcquently of regret, are fo dif- ferent to different peflfons, that what appears a fanciful and Capricious caufe of forrow to one, fhal affeft another as fomething the moft folid and durable. Yet there muft, on the whole, be a cer- ON CONSOLATION. 53 lain proportion between lofTes in the common mode of calculating them, and the pain they cccafion ; and though in the very fnft movements of grief this proportion may not appear, we may fai ly reckon upon its fmal operation. A fend mother or a numerous family, whofe infant at the breaft is taken from her, may for a fhort period feel a fenfe of lofs equal to that from lofing her hufhand or eldeft fon ; becaufe the child was, for the time, the object of her moil frequent attentions and cardies. But this ftate cannot be of long duration. Her h^ppinefs in its main points was no more dependent upon fuch an infant, than that of a child upon its favourite bird. Ke weeps bitterly when it is flown, but a new one to-morrow makes him forget it. The extent of the lefs being therefore the true meafure of the grief refuking from it, the natural and fimpie confequence mud be, that all effectual confolation muft fpring from the means offered to the mind for repairing the lofs. As a merchant who has feen his richly- freighted veffel perifli be- fore his eyes, can receive no comfort equal to th it of colleciing fome wrecks of the treafure driven to land ; fo the mourner, deprived of the dearefc ob- ject of his affections, to whom he looked for the chief folace and pkafure of his life, can only feel relief from the contemplation of fome remaining fource of happinefs, which may afford a fubftitu- tion, refembling in kind, however inferior in de- gree. The proper office, then, of a friend who 2 '4 LETTER lit. takes the arduous talk of confolaticn, is to diicover and prelect to the view of the fufferer every object from whence a reparation cf the 1 h maybe derived. I am. aware, indeed, that in the firft movements of generous forrow there is a de- licacy of fentiroent which fpiiras the idea cf com- promising its feelings, and regards it as a fort of violation of the dead, to fubmi: their value to any cool calculation o^ utility. It delights in exagge- rating every circumftancc which heightens the lei's ; and prides itfelf, as it were, in regarding it as ir- reparable. To this " infirmity of noble mind**" all due indulgence mould be (hewn, but without lofing fight cf what, after all, is the true principle. The grief being fundamentally felfifh, mail receive its cure from ecr.fi derations which apply to felf; and thefe, however gradually and indirectly, muft at . be brought forwards. It is a fortunate c:r- cumftance when the commanding language of duty c:.v. be made to coincide with the foothing fuggef- tions of comibit ; for no delicacy can be pleaded againft an appeal to duty* The mourner dares not fay or think, My grief for the deceafed abfolves me from all the claims of furviving objects whom nature has committed to my care. But duty prompts aftive exertions, which are the fureft pre- fervatives againft the moft baneful effects of for- row. Hence feme of thofe cafes which feem of all the moft deplorable, are found to be lefs i ju- rious to the mind in their confequences, than others ON. CONSOLATION. I55 waere the lei's is in appearance lighter. It is fel- dom that the widowed mother of a large and un- provided family is abfolutdy overwhelmed by her calamity ; whereas the wealthy parent deprived of a favourite child frequently links into the palfying defpair of melancholy. Let him, then, who aims at administering a confolation beyond the reach of cuflomary forms, with putting himfelfaa nearly as pofuble in ration of the afflicted perfon, and fearching ie points on which grief really bears, apply hij attention to difcover what will eafe it there. The widower, fitting in gloomy folitude, or look- Uuliy on a group of children deprived of a ..'s cares and tendernefs, wants a companion for his Ion ely hours, and a helper in parental and domeilic concerns. Let h:,n, as far as he is able, . become that companion ; and let him employ his ;hts in finding 1 out friends or relatives who may in fome meafure fucceed to the maternal office, and regulate the difordered ilate of family affairs. For the defolate widow, loft in the perplexities of bu- finefs, and terrified with her forlorn unflieltered condition, let him difentangle complicated ac- counts, obtain the beft council in dubious proceed- ings, mutter all the connexions of kindred and fr.iendfhip, and intereft them in her behalf, fet before her confoling profpecls of future expe&a* tl:ns, and (hew her that the world is not that wil- dernefs pf defpair to her and her children which I$6 LETTER XIX. in the Mrn: paroxyfms of grief (lie imagined it to be. Her lofs is perhaps the greateft that a human being can fuflain. Its fubftitutes therefore mould be fought with the greateft diligence, and from the moft various quarters. To parents weeping orer the untimely grave of a beloved child, the confoler fhould call to mind their remaining children, and fetting them full in their view, he fhould fay, Here are your comforts — here are your duties ! Thefe are enough to fill your hearts and occupy all your attentions. By due cultivation, you may obtain from them mere than a compenfation for what you have loft. The tree has indeed, been mutilated, but it may be brought to yield as much fruit as if all its brandies were entire. To thofe whofe only hope is Mailed — whofe profpecTrs of a riling generation to cheer and honour their declining years is for ever clofed — let it be tenderly yet firmly urged, that they live in a woild filled with relations of every kind be- tween man and man — that the ties of ffiendfhip, neighbourhood, and country, full fubfift in their full force — that the duty of not living to- ourfehes is in all cafes binding, and if fa'duVJv performed, will not fail to. repay itfelf by heartfelt pleafiuvs. Ant them what they would have been had they never poiTtfTed a child. Would the world hs been a blank to them, containing nothing worthy of their care and attachment ? Cruelly difap- pomted as they have been — ruined as are all their ON CONSOLATION. I57 plan? of remaining life, yet it is in their powrr to fet out anew, and create to themfelves thofe ob- jects of intereil which would naturally have en- gaged their attention had they been childlefs. Are their minds ltronp* and their views elevated ? — o prefent to them fome large dbjeft capable of em- ploying all their exertions in the purfnit, and ot fatisfying their reafen in the end. Under VP&fcfe than the death of an' only child, Howard took into his protection all the friendlefs of' mankind, and was confoled. Are their minds weak and their taiies trivial ? — their child was little more to them than a play-thing, and a thotifand other play -things may fupply its place. Thus in all cafes of lofs, fome fubftitution may be found, which, if it does not obliterate the cala- mity, yet lightens it. The ftroke of misfortune never falls fo heavy as was expected. It is alle- viated by a variety of things which itood for no- thing in the computation, but which kind nature, ever ftudious of our happinefs, feizes upon, and employs to fubdue her bittereft foe, obdurate grief. If great forrows overwhelm us, little joys unite to buoy us up again. This procefs may in general be relied on ps of fure operation ; and, in fact, renders the o.h;e of confoler only one of tempo- rary necefiity. But during the firft accefs of g\ 'ef, it is frequently 3::: 1 of h -.tance; and on its fkili on much of future peace and conv O Ij8 * E T T B R XIX. fort may depend. You remember the pretty me* taphorof Shakefpearj Being that I flow in grief, The fmalleft twine may lead me. The firft impulfe in fuch a ftate may be of great moment to the direction of after conduct. One requifite, however, for performing fuccefsfully the office of confolation, nature alone can bellow — a feeling and benevolent heart. In that, I fear not your deficiency. That it may enable you in this, as in all other duties of your ftation, to act to the full fatisfa&ion of yourfelf and others, is the mofl cordial wifh of Your truly affectionate, &c. ( 159 ) LETTER XX. ON THE INEQUALITY OF CONDITIONS. DEAR SON, AN my perambulations of this immenfe metro- polis, where human life appears under all its forms, and the excefs of opulence is clofely bordered on by the mod fqualid poverty, many are the reflec- tions that occupy my mind, often to the tempo- rary forgetfulnefs of my bufinefs and way. Of thefe, fome of the molt painful arife from the con- templation of the prodigious inequality among mankind, and the ftate of indigence and degra- dation to which fo large a portion of them appear condemned. Between the inhabitant of the fpfefl- did fquare, and the tenant of the gloomy alley, the apparent difference is fuch, that if we take our ideas of the nature and deilination of man from the one, they feem no more applicable to the other, than if they were beings of different orders. One appears the fpoilt child, the other, the abandoned outcafl of this world. There is, indeed, a clafs O 2 l60 LETTER XX. between the two extremes on which the mind may dwell with more complacency ; but if this be made a flandard for the fpecies, cur perplexities are only ihcreafed by obferving the double deviations from it. After thus brooding over a chaos of confufed thought, 1 feem at length to diicern the forms of things with more diftinctnefs ; and the fatisfaction this affords me is fuch, as to make me defirous of communicating it to you. The firft point abfolutely requifite to be fettled in order to view the actual condition of mankind with proper feelings, is, how far it is a r.eccjfary one. Some benevolent philofophers, fhocked and difgu&ed with the flate of fociety as it appears in all large combinations of men, have taken refuge in the fuppofition that it is ztil artificial and unna-, tural. They have gone back to the favage con- dition, and afibciating their own refined ideas with the fimplicity of that itate^ they have formed a- picture of human life, poffefiing the moral advan- tages of civilization, without its vices and inequa- lities. But as long as this is no more, than-a fcene of fiction, though - drawn- by- the moft mafic: ly hand, it deferves no regard u\\ the. decifion of a. q-uellion within the reach of real observation. In order to form true notions of what! man ef- fentially is by his nature, the only fure way of proceeding is the fame that we mould adopt in iludying the nature of any other animal. Confult his hiftory- for a long feries of ages. See what his INEQUALITY OF CONDITIONS. l6l leading character has ever been, and conclude with confidence that fuch it will ever be. If the ope- ration of his faculties and propenfities have at all times tended to certain effects, there is the fame reafon to fuppofe that they will ever continue to do fo, as that any other of what we call the laws of nature will remain inviolate. Bees will ever conftruct combs ; beavers will raife dams ; rooks will form fettlements ; and men will build cities. The principle of congregating is fo ftrong within him, that it will ever determine the condition of the bulk of the fpecies. For, confider what effects necefTarily flow from it. Men affembled in focie- ties mutually (harpen each others faculties, and open new fources of enjoyment, and consequent- ly, of defire. To the arts of firft neceffity, fuc- ceed thofe of convenience, of elegance, of fplen- dour. Arts fuppofe artifls ; both the contriving head, and the labouring hand. The firft, being a rarer quality, will be more valued than the fecond. In the fame manner, all the other more uncom- mon and valuable qualities both of mind and body will raife their poffefibrs above the ordinary Uvd t and fecure them particular advantages. Thus, property will be acquired, will produce laws and government for its fecurity, will accumulate, will be allied to magistracy, and in confequence will enforce and augment the natural inequalities among men. All thefe things are in the infeparable re- and to O 3 1 62 LETTER X3T. ■expcft the firil without the fecond, or to fit dov/n in fruitlefs lamentation that we cannot have all we wiili, without fomewhat that we dillike, is childifh and unreafonable. Men, therefore, by the conflitution of their na- ture, will ever tend to unite in large mafTes ; and thefe mafTes will fall into the grand divifions of rich and poor, high and low, governors and governed. This is abfolutely unavoidable, for even abolifliing at once all the arts and conveniences of civilized life would not reftore men to equality. Distinc- tions of power and influence fubfift in the favage horde as well as in the luxurious city. But taking fociety with this necefiary condition, there is ilill ample room for the operation of human wifdom in increafing its advantages and diminishing its evils. Thefe remedial attempts are part of man's nature likewife ; and they are carried into effect by the employment of the very fame faculties which, directed another way, have occafioned the inconvenience. If thefe are negligently or un- faithfully ufed, the condition of fociety becomes much worfe than it might- have been. Thus, if inflead of counteracting by civil regulations the iirong tendency to inequality, it be favoured and perpetuated by them, every evil proceeding from this fource will, of conrfe, be aggravated. And, . in fa£t, the greatefl differences that we obferve in the apparent frappinefs enjoyed by- different na- tions, principally arife from the tendency of their INEQUALITY OF CONDITIONS. 163 political inilitutions to augment or reftrain the difparity of conditions. Every good government- contains in it a levelling principle ; for what is the purpofe of equal laws, equal rights, equal oppor- tunities of profiting by natural and acquired ta- lents, but to annul artificial diftinctions, and caufe the race of life to be run fairly ? In return for the protection afforded the rich, it loads them with heavier proportional burdens ; and it provides fome legitimate mode by which the will of the many (hall make itfelf known and refpected, in order to counteract, the grafping projects of the few. But, it may be faid, what, after all, have thefe contrivances done ? — have they in any country, confiderably advanced in arts and commerce, pre- vented thofe evils of great inequality which you began with lamenting ? Much lefs, I acknowledge, has been effected than might have been hoped. But before we enquire further into the profpects of future improvement, let us reflect upon one thing that has been done for the melioration of human life in its loweil form ; and this is, the abolition of domejiic Jkevery throughout all the civi- lized countries of Europe. Recollect, that in all the ancient ftates, which boafted the moil loudly of their freedom and ifonomy, the menial fervant, the artizan, the cultivator of the earth, was a /lave, who held life and all its petty comforts at the ar- bitrary pleafhre g£ a fellow-mortal, often brutal, 164 LETTER XX. violent, and needy. Image to yourfelf, ftreets re- founding with the lafli and the cries of the tor- tured — fields covered with herds of men in chains, and their drivers — dungeons and racks in every private houfe — age fuffered to perifh in filth and famine, and youth the prey of luft and cruelty. Is any thing on this fide the Atlantic fo bad as fuch a ftate ? And has not this blefTed change been effected by amending the principles and informing the underflanding of men ? We may now, with hearts fomewhat relieved, enter the clofe court and funlefs alley, Where the pale artift plies the fickly trade ; where the mechanic, the day-labourer, and thofe employed in the numerous vile, but necefTary, offices in a great city, have their abode. The fallow dingy countenances, uncombed locks, and beggarly apparel of thefe people, difguft your fenfes, and their manners equally fhock your moral feelings. You fhrink back, and are almoft ready to renounce the relationfhip of a common nature with fuch beings. The idea of their prefent and future exiftence makes you fhudder, and all the fplendours of opulence which mine at the expence of fo much wretchednefs, are dimmed in your eyes. But when you confider that thefe are the reprefentatives of half a million cf human be- ings in this metropolis — that fuch they ever have been, not only here, but in ever)' other feat cf INEQUALITY OF CONDITIONS. I 6£ arts and commerce — you will be almoft compelled to conclude, that their cafe cannot be fo bad as it feems. Far, far be it from me to infult poverty by declaiming en its advantages ! We have had too much of that dfcnt. It is irnpoffible honeilly to fuppofe that the perfons I have been defcribing, enjoy an equal (hare of the comforts of this life, feoyreve* philofcphically we eftimate thofe com- forts. But I can never bring rnyfelf to believe,- that the neeeffary condition of a majority of the human race is a decidedly wretched one. With rcfpe«ft to thofe I am now considering-, a great proportion of them certainly are not dc:L'tute of a variety, of the things that make life de In-able. Survey them more dofe'iy* They have a home^ a family, ktndredj neighbours,; converfe, rights, a certain liberty of action, and no inconiiderable fhare of fenfuaL gratiikations. The circumfcances that, difguft you in beholding them, do not difguil theinielves-4— habit has rendered them callous- to the/ evils of dirti and] tatters.-. When I. acknowledge- that it has alfo. made then* iafenfible. to .moral de- pravity* I perhaps cosfefsjro. more -thai* would be true of the modes- of. life in ; the : higheit ranks of* fociety. . Their vices:are* indeed* grofs.,and obvious ; but you, I am fare, are ivo.t- one - of thofe v.ho- eftimate the noxious qualities of a vice, chiefly from its groffnefs. They have, their- virtues too, and of a kind as undifguifed as their: vices. They, ara 6<5 LETTER XX. ever ready to help one another in diftrefs, and loudly unite in decrying every thing unmanly, cruel, and villanous. Still, their condition is attended with many ferious evils, which, if they can be remedied, certainly ought to be ; for to the happinefs of fo large a portion of fociety, every other cor- fideration ought to give way. But in order to produce any favourable change, it is firft requifite to diilinguifn the necejfary circum- ftances of their fituation, from the ca.f-j.al. The neceiTary, are thofe connected with that in- feriority of ftation which, I have attempted to fhew, m-ujt be the condition of a majority in all human focieties, and more efpecially in thcfe where the powers of the mind are moft cultivated. I am of opinion, therefore, that it is not in the power of merely political inftitutions to do more for the advantages of the lower claries, than fecure them from oppreilion, and prevent their interefts from being facrinced to the avarice and ambition of the higher. Whether this can be done much more effectually than is already done by the con- ftitution of our own country, I fhall net enquire ; but I am ready to confefs, that my expectations of benefit are not turned towards changes in that quarter. It is on the removal of fome of the cafual evils attending the condition of the poor, that my hopes of feeing the world happier chiefly depend ; among which I reckon grofs ignorance INEQUALITY OF CONDITIONS, I67 bad morals and pernicious habits. That it it with- in the reach of human induftry to produce great amendment in thefe particulars, and that, even in a metropolis fo enormous and licentious as this, I no more doubt, than that all remaining flavery might be abolifhed, as the paft has been. A com- panion of different nations and focieties, already affords full demonftration of the great differences in this refpect that different care and management will create. The labouring claffes of all towns are not left ignorant of every principle of religion and morality, and void of all encouragement to prac- tife economy and the decencies of life. To the difgrace of this enlightened country, it has been one of the moft remifs in attentions of this fort ; but I truft a fpirit is awakened which will fuffer it to be fo no longer. In promoting a reform of this kind, every man, however contracted his fphere of action, is able to advance the public good ; but especially, thofe who have devoted themfelves to the improvement of morals, poffefs both the abi- lity and the influence requifite for the work. To you, who even during the courfe of your educa- tion exhibited an ardent zeal in this caufe, I need not recommend it further, than by expreffing my confidence that your attempts will not fail of fuc- cefs, if not fo much as you would wifh, perhaps more than you would expeft. Evils, no doubt, moral and natural, will remain as long as the world remains ; but the certainty of the perpetual ex- l6S LETTER IX. iflence of vice, is no more an argument againit attempting to correal it, than the fame certainty with refpecl to difeafe, is a reafon againil exercifmg the art of medicine, Adieu! ( i^9 J LETTER XXI. ON THE PREVALENCE OF TRUTH, DEAR SON, .1 Rir TH is mighty and will prevail," is the axiom that for ages has adminiitered confolation to thofe reafoners, whofe efforts in a favourite caufe have not been crowned with prefent fuccefs. That the foundation of this axiom is folid, I am by no means inclined to difpute ; and far be it from me to attempt extingjaiming that hope, which has pre- vented fo many generous friends of mankind from ■ into defpondency. Yet if its application hive in any in (lances led to expectations which ' >ly can never be realifed, or if a confident reliance upon it have damped the ardour of due exertion, it may be ufeful to reduce it within the limits of ftri& reality. In fact., the aflertioa that - ; truth muft always finally prevail," appears to me much too general, and not to be aequiefced in it many diftin&ions and limitations. The grounds of fame of theie will be the fubjectof my it letter. ? I^O LETTER XXI, Of the obflacles to the prevalence of truth, there are fome apparently fo connected with the nature and condition of man, that a majority of the fpe- cies mull ever labour under their influence. Such are, especially, thofe proceeding from the opera- tion of ungoverned paffions and defires, during which the mind is never permitted to exercife that calm judgment which is abfolutely neceffary for the inveftigation of truth. Every fubjed which flrongly excites the emotions of hope and fear, is liable to this caufe of error. The medium through which it is viewed, is fo ruffled, that it tranfmits all objects falfe and diilorted. In cafes like thefe, the fpeclcs receives no improvement, and each in- dividual has the whole procefs of melioration to go through for himfetf. He mull by his own ex- ertions acquire the qae regulation of his heart, as much as the free ufe of his limbs, and the attain- ments of his predeceffors afford him no afiiflance. As a man born in the eighteenth century is no better able to endure cold, hunger, and fatigue, than one born in the firit, fo neither can he better } efilt the imprefnens of terror and defire. Now, many of thofe fubjecls ia which falfe opinions are moil prevalent, lay fuch hold on the weak parts of man, his pafnons and affections, that he is in general incapacitated from making proper ufe of the experience of pail ages, and feems doomed to run a perpetual round of the Cams follies and miflakes. This is the caufe why PREVALENCE OF TRUTH. I 7 I rcafon has not been able to do more in abolifhing fuperftition. Various fpccies of it have occa- sionally been rendered unfashionable by ridicule or detection ; but the principle itfeif ftiH keeps its bold in the human breafc, ready to feize every opportunity of regaining all the influence it may have loft. In countries the moil enlightened by fcience and letters, it is wonderful how much fu- perftition is conftantly lurking among the vulgar of all ranks, nay, among the enlightened them- felves : for where the temper difpefes to it, both learning and fcience may be made to afford addi- tional materials for it to work upon. A faith in omens, prophefies, and horofcopes, in fortunate names and numbers, in warnings and apparitions, in fupernatural cures, and other fraudulent pre* tendons refpedling the principal objects of hope and fear, is no more likely at the prefent day to be eradicated, than it was at any former period. Reafon has no greater power over thefe delufions> than the Roman fenate had over the influence of the Chaldean foothfayers : Genus hominum (fays Tacitus) quod in civitate noftra et vttabitur fem- per, et retinebitur." It has rendered them in a certain degree discreditable, and reduced them to operate more in fecret than formerly, and more individuals have been freed from their fway ; but he mud know little of the actual ftate of things, who fuppofes their prefent influence to be incon- iiderable, or, perhaps, diminiming. It mi^ht, in- P 2 3 7 2 LETTER XXI. deed, be imagined, that caufes which had gra- du illy been producing a certain effect., might con- fidently be expected to go en producing it in a greater and greater degree ; but I fear this will not be found* to eorrefpond with the real march of hu- raan affairs, which, in many cafes, more refcmbles the motion of a pendulum, which, having fwung to a certain height, thenceforth moves in a contrary direction. Thus it feems as if fuperftition, after - been weakened by the repeated attacks of wit3 and philofophers, was at prefeat recQve iag its ftrength. It has cbvioufly met with encourage- ment from perfons of fame note, who have pro- bably fe'en a connexion between that Hate of mind which makes iaen fubmiflive to fuperftitious be- lief, and the docility necefiary for the recepti< fyitems of faith which they were intereffied in fuoporting. Myfteries of ah icrts are allied, and f arp-uinsf ferves equally in fa- one formula o LfcUnig ^:vo t4Ufli:j vour of all — " Beeaufe there are certain truths which you cannot help admitting, though appa- rently contradictory to reafon and analogy, you have no rig] t t< o] jeer, to thofe we offer you on the ground of fuch contradiction." Thus ail a conelufions concerning truth and falfehood are intercepted, and mankind are left to contend in each individual cafe with the artifices of fophifm and impofture. I have often thought it a very hazardous mode of argument which the friends of religion, even PREVALENCE OF TRUTH. 1 73 the more rational, have been accuftomed to ufe in their controverfies with unbelievers. " If (fay they) there be no providence, no future ftate, no obligation to divine worfhip, you muft, however, acknowledge that no danger can enfue from acting as if there were. But if, en the contrary, thefe things are real, we hold that there is the greatefl of all dangers in acting as if they were not." Confider what ufe may be made of this kind of reafoning by papiils againft proteilants, and by the narrower fects of the latter againit the more liberal. " You aknowledge that a man may be faved in our church if his intentions are upright, and his morals pure ; but we deny that falvaticn is poffible in yours on any conditions. Common prudence mould therefore induce you to adopt that which both parties allow to be fafe, rather than that which one alone (perhaps the leafl nume- rous) thinks to be fo." By thus introducing prudential confideraticns into queflicns of truth, fe£s, in order to gain profelytes, are encou- raged to become as dogmatical and uncharitable as poffible, and to aim at frightening men into their narrow pale as the only place of refuge. This, in fact, is an advantage which bigotry has long poHefTcd, and probably will ever pofftfs, over moderation. Exclufive pretenfions, whether reflecting this world or another, will ever find powerful f imports in the hopes and fears of msakind ; a:.d he vho ad£?effes bbttf ?3 174 LETTER XI :. thefe paffions will act with double the • a who applies only to one. For a fimflar reafon, all thofe fyftems of faith which offer men eternal felicity upon eafier terms than their own endeavours — that fhift, as it were, the load of refponfibiiity from them, upon charac- ters of myfterious dignity, who are to be repaid by the cheap fenrices of unbounded homage and adoration — that inculcate fears which no con- fcious re&itude can calm, and nouriih hopes that no felf-examination can warrant, will fcarcely fail of rendering themfelves acceptable to the multitude, fo long as they are fupported by fa- tisra&ory authority. And how is this autho- rity, once received, to be fhaken ? If it depend on historical evidence, can a whole people be ex- pected to enter into an examination of events be- lieved at the time of their palling, and delivered down unqueftioned through many generations of their ' anceflors ? Is not this continuity of belief the befl evidence they poffefs for the truth of all their national records ? If it refers to inter fion, will not the fame arguments which have de- termined the general fenfe of a writing in times pad, continue to operate in any future attempts to interpret it ? I fuppofe, in this cafe, the fame fair intentions, and the fame collateral aids, to exift in both periods. But nations have, in fact, changed their fyf- tems. They have ; but not, I conceive, from the PREVALENCE OF TR©TH. I 7^ unaided operation of roafon and argument. In all remarkable changes of this kind, we mail dif- cover, befides the more immediate interference of divine power, fuch a concurrence of circumftances, as was capable of a coercive action upon men's minds, and which cannot at pleafure be renewed by thofe who may wifli to produce fimilar effects. For the capability of receiving truth, there mull always be certain preparations. I do not reckon freedom from error one of thefe, for then truth would be abfolutely unattainable ; no man being without falfe opinions, who had not already im- bibed true ones. But I mean certain qualities, moral and intellectual ; which beftow a fitnefs to be acted upon by argument. One of the mod euential of thefe, is the fair honeft defire of dif- covering the truth, and following whitherioever it may lead. But how large a portion of mankind is precluded from this ftate by previoully determined interefts and partialities ! How few, even among the pretended enquirers after truth, can fay with the ever-memorable John Hales, " For this, I have forfaken all hopes, all friends, all defires, which might bias me, and hinder me from driving right at what I aimed." On the contrary, are we not very fure, that when perfons of certain defcriptiens engage in what they call an inveftigation of truth, they have before-hand decided what conclufions to eftablifh, and without fuch a deciiion would never have undertaken the tafk ? I76 LETTER XXI. Further, how much diligence, how much ftudy, what freedom from difti actions, what renunciation of common pltafures and purfuits, are not necef- fary for the fuccefsful fearch after truth! It can be little lefs than the whcle bufmefs of a man's life — " Vitam impendere vero." Ought we then to blame the ancient philofophers when they limit- ed the power of acquiring intellectual truth to a few, and propofed it as the noble prize to be con- tended for by a number felected from the vulgar ? Truth of no kind is of eafy acquifition — that truth, I mean, which is the rcfult of examination : for true opinions Humbled upon by chance, and only by following the authority of great names, is no certain poffefiion, and will readily give place to error more highly patronized. Truth in fcience is only arrived at by laborious experiment and patient deduction. Hiilorical truth requires for its invef- tigation perfect impartiality, and an acquaintance with every pofiible inlet to fraud and miftake. Moral truth demands a heart capable of feeling it. Religious truth is not attained without an union of the requifites for all the ether fpecies of truth. Have v. e, then, any well grounded rcafon to hope that the majority of mankind will ever come to a general perception of what is fo obfeured by cb'fiU culties in the detail ? If you mould think the doctrine of this Liter fomevvhat inconfiitent with my former one On tht furfuil of Improvement, recclka, thai the tesor of PREVALENCE OF TRUTH. I 77 that was to mew the natural progress 'cowards per- il in every practical art on which the human faculties arc in earned employed — and the advan- tage to be derived from that reference to general ch is properly termed philofophy* To free men from thofe w:nk.:.rjs of their nature which oppofe the admiffion of abflracl truth, is a liferent attempt ; which, however, is not to en up in defpair becaufe it cannot be fo fuc- tl as we would wim. Truth will prevail — how far? As far as it is purfued with a proper temper, and by perfons pro- perly qualified. Place before fuch men an object of controverfy capable of being decided according to truth. But that falfe opinions on fubje&a which warmly intereft the pafliona of mankind will ever ceafe to fway the multitude, is what I dare not promife myfelf. A fmgular example of the di£- : fitnefs of diScrent men to receive truth is sd by the modern impofture of shilmcl Mag' t i. When i:s pretentions were f ibmitted to a board of j clea y and uhanimoi limed. Still, how- ever, that clafs who arc the proper fubjects of de- ception were deluded by its bold promifes, and myfterious reafonings ; and among them the de- lufion in fome meafure ftill fubfiils. It cannot, however, Hand long ; but its votaries will remain jufl as prone as before to fall into another plaufible dcluil >u« 1/3 LETTER XXI. Meantime, fach is the intrinfic value of truth, that no other encouragement is wanted to animate to the vigorous purfuit of it, than the diilant hope of attaining it for ourfelves, and propagating it among a felect few ; for in fail, of all the differ- ences between mortals, the different degree in which they are poffefibrs of truth is incomparably the greated. Nor can it be doubted that a large mare of it is within the reach of man, though not of all men. Like the inoculation of the fmall pox, it confers indifputable benefits on thofe who re- ceive it ; yet too few will probably ever receive it to produce finking effects upon the whole fpecies. Let truth be fairly offered to the world without the veil of myftery, in her own naked radiance. If the world fail to recognize her, and leave her to a few enamoured votaries, let them confole them- felves with the affurance that Truth, like Virtue,, js her own reward. Farewel ! ( *79 ) LETTER XXII. ON SECOND THOUGHTS AND MIDDLE COURSES. DEAR SON, "Si ECOND Thoughts are beft," fays a frequent- ly-quoted proverb. Confidered as a prudential maxim, its truth, I believe, cannot be controvert- ed ; for there are few points of evil to be avoided or advantage to be gained, in which mature deli- beration is not better than hafty deciiion. But that they are be/I> in the fenfe of being more con- formable to moral or natural truth, in my opinion, is fo far from reality, that I mould more readily acquiefce in a proportion nearly the reverfe — that Jirjl impreihons are moft to be relied on. This, however, I do not mean to aflert without limi- tation, Where a mind is well prepared for the reception of truth, by rectitude of intention, and a habit of accurately conceiving what is prefented to it, a queftion of moral conduit is almoft always bell decided by the feelings immediately confequent upon ilating the cafe ; and after-thoughts, in fuch LSances, jjre ufual'y the fophiHry ci felf-iiiterefl l8o LETTER XXII. or partiality. I afk myfelf, fliall I make a foleran profeffion of what I do not believe. No ! ( cries indignantly Firfl Feeling) — better to ftarve ! Come (fays Second Thought) let us conhder the matter calmly ; for there are many reafons why it would be convenient to make this profeffion. Examine its words — fee if they will bear no other fenfe than the moil obvious. At any rate, will not the end juftify the means ? It then begins its inge- nious operations, and, in conclusion, the thing is done. I have promifed a man my fupport— mall I keep my woid ? Certainly ? Can you doubt o£ it ? \ 1 you be a rafcal ? But I wifh I could dif- eng age myfelf, for really I do not like the man. His politics or religion are different from what I took them to be ; and I mould do more good by difcouraging him. Befides, every promife is by its v^ry nature conditional, and he has virtually broken his part of the conditions. Indeed ! Then ufe your discretion. In this manner it is that ever) r triumph, in a heart not vitiated, is gained by cowardice, meannefs, and feififhnefs, over fpirit, honour, and ;. ofity. Confcience is never dilatory in her warnings. She pronounces clearly and initanily, and her fhft voice is the tnre oracle. By prolix and varied repetitions of the ration, with foreign ■ iiances introduced i^r the p^rpofe of per- plexing, the refponfe may at length he rendered SECOND -THOUGHTS, &c. iHl almoft any thing we wfft it, and confcience may- be cheated into acquiescence in the moll abomina- ble conclufions. It is thus, that in our corporeal mechanifm, a deleterious fubftance taken into the Jlomach, excites inflant and \ioIent efforts for its expulfion ; but after a due repetition of dofes, pro- perly proportioned and combined, the ftimulus c°afes to be felt, and abhorrent nature becomes re- conciled to the instrument of her deflruCtion. It was upon the fyftem of Second Thoughts that the famous morality of the Jefuits was founded. They eftablifhed it as a rule, that in a cafe of con- science, if a probable opinion, or one fupported by the authority of a Jingle grave doctor, could be brought in favour of inclination, againft an opi- nion confelfedly more probable, it was fufEcient to juftify a determination conformable to it. And they took good care that their eafuifts mould be furniihed with probable opinions of all forts for the life of tliofe who put their confeiences under the direction of the fociety. The following edifying ilory is related by one of their graved fathers, from whom it k copied In the celebrated Provincial Let- /e;v. " A man who was carrying a large fum of money in order to make reftitutioa by command of his confeflbr, called at a bookfeHey's (hop by iliz way, and aiding if they had any thing new, was ihewa a nczu fyjltm of Moral Theology. Turning oyer the leaves cai lefsry, he happened to light on l±v-> own cafe, and - he was not ofelig , : j82 LETTER XXII. reftitution ; fo that having got rid of the burden of his fcruple, and retaining the burden of his money, he returned home lighter than he went out." Such lucky occafions of fccond thought, the pious author attributes to the fpecial interference of God's providence, by the miniilry of a man's guardian angel. The fpeediefl decifions of Reafon, as well as of Conference, are frequently the foundeft. Extrava- gant projects, abfurd proportions, impudent pre- tentions, are rejected with fcorn when firft offered to the mind ; and it is only in confequence of re- hearings, at which fraud and fophiftry are advo- cates, with wiles, hke thofe of Comus, " baited with reafons not unplaufible," that they at length work their way. Many high claims there are upon our acquiefcence, which the foul of man wculd fpurn with contempt and loathing, did it abide by its fpontaneous decifions. It may be affirmed to have been the chief buflnefs of fcholaftic learning for many ages, to itiiie this voice of unbiafTed rea- fon, and inure men to form determinations con- trary to firft convictions. Hew many mighty vo- lumes could I point out to you, the whole purpofe of which is to reconcile the mind to forne manifeft contradiction, or to difprove fome felf-evident truth ! I remember to have read, that in the condemnation of feme Janfenift bock, the heretical proportions were fo injudicioufly fele&ed, that a great prince, into whofe hands they were put, miftook them for SECOND THOUGHTS, &C. l8$ articles of faith, and was edified by the perufal. Can it be doubted that here the text was nearer the truth than the comment, and that the prince judged better than Ae doctors ? I have known inftances, in which pofitions felecied out of a political work for the purpof? of obtaining its judicial condemna- tion, have affected impartial readers in a fimilar manner. By thefe observations, however, I am far from wifhing to inculcate a hafty decifion on controvert- ed points in general. Where the queflion relates to matter of fact, a very patient inveiligation is frequently neceffary. Where it concerns a matter of expedience, it cannot be fafely decided without minutely balancing its probable advantages and dis- advantages, and consulting pail experience in fimi- lar cafes. But where it refers to principles, and mufl be tried by its conformity with certain notions, if not innate, at leaf): early and very generally ad- mitted into the human breaft, it is probably belt judged of when prefented naked to the mind, un- mixed with extraneous confederations, and with no other preparation than to render it perfectly in- teffigible. M The middle way is the fafeft," fays another common proverb. If this was adopted from the " medio tutiffimus ibis" of Ovid, it fliould have been remembered that his was a particular precept, not a general maxim. In reality, the middle courfe h very often the woril that can be followed in afr I§4 LETTER 7.1\l. fairs of the work!, eombmming the inconveniences, and mi'fmg the advantages, of the two extremes. It is eoifcmonfy the paltry expedient of wcaknefs and indecifion to get over prefent difficulties, by de- clining infk-ad cf confronting their.— a compro- mife between right atod wrong, between wifdeni and folly-, between enterprize and indolence, which y;.n:7:Jlj meets with the fate of imbecuiry. In inct emergencies, two directly oppefte fyrkrr.s of action prefent themfelves to our choice. Each has its appropriated character, its favourable and unfa- vourable circumftances. Each may fucceed ; but only when followed tvllj and decidedly. Every kaaifig towards its oppofite adds to its difficulties, and endangers its failure. This cnr.net be better ihuf.rated than by military transactions. A Gene- ral finds himfelf unexpectedly in face of a fuuerior eoemy- He has no choice but to fight or retire; but the movements for each are incompatible ; one t . ..Yes bold advance, the other, filent retreat. One, however, appears to him too hazardous, and the other, too difgraeeful. lie therefore takes a middle courfc, in confequence of which he fights to no purpofe, and his retreat is intercepted. One cannot be at all converfant with bufme'fs, without feeing perpetual inihmces of the mifchief done by this fpirit of throwing in a little of this, and a little of that, in order to fecure a medium. A perfon in a public affembly propofec a vigorous meafure, and after feme oppofition, carries it. SECOND THOUCHTS, &C. 1 83 Some weak friend or defigning foe, up en the plea of preventing extremes, then offers a few mo- difications and rcftrictions, of a nature directly iubverfive of the purpofe intended to be anfwered by the lirft mover ; and thefe, and for the fake of ac- commodation, are affented to by the majority : thus the whole fcheme is rendered ineffectual. In a fi- milar fpirit, arbitrators fplit a difference, and do juftice to neither party juries bi-ing in verdicts which determine nothing, and leave the court t6 act as it pleafes — confutations of learned phyficians neutralise their plans fo as to do neither geed nor harm — and divines play off one virtue ageiinfi ano- ther, till they make their hearers indifferent to both. Truth may, perhaps, in general, lie fomewhere within oopofite extremes ; but it is a grefs weaknefa to e::pe£t to lind it by the mechanical operation of Li.jfting a line, or calculating an average. Even in cafes where we -axe/are that the two extremes are erroneous, as in the reprefentation of the fame character by adverfe parties, it is a futile method of g of particular actions, to balance the con- trary motives to which they have been attributed, and ftxike a medium. It is not in this manner that good and evil are compounded in mankind. The controversial who thinks, by ad fomewhat from one £yftem, and fomewhat from another, to fix himfelf or. firm ground, and held ODDofite partie ii i t e£fc s will generally find that I gft LETTER XXlf. he has united both againft him, and has weakened his defences on either part. I could adduce many inftances to (hew you, that in the contefts of theo- logical polemics, the middle way is as far, as it is in real warfare, from being the fafeft. The acute Chillingworth could not find a barrier againft popery, till he had eftablifhed as a fundamental maxim, that the Bible is the only ground of the religion of Protejlants. He perceived, that if church autho- rity were admitted' as any thing in the controverfy, the papift would be too hard for him, Thus you fee that proverbial fayings, the boafted wifdom of ages, are not to be trufted without exa- mination. Aphorifms, in general, indeed, are but dangerous guides. The greater part of them have been formed not fo much from the refults of uni- verfal reafon and experience, as from the authority of individuals in the infancy of both. A few ex- amples went to eflablim a rule, and the exceptions flood for nothing, till at length they have often been found more numerous than the exemplifications. Farewel t ( i6 7 ) LETTER XXIIT. ON THE PRINCIPAL FAULTS OF POETICAL TRANSLATION. X N order to affilt you in deciding for yourfelf the queftion you afk me refpecting the comparative me- rits of Pope's and Cowper's tranflation of Homer, I fhall lay before you fome remarks on the chief purpofes and principal faults of poetical tranflation, which fuggefted themfelves to my mind in the courfe of my earlier reading. As the great end of all poetry is to pleafe, that of a poetical tranflation muft in the firft inftance be the fame. But befraes this general purpofe, it has the additional one of gratifying a laudable defire in th« reader who does not underftand the original, of gaining fome idea how perfons thought and wrote in an age or country often very diftant from his own. Hence arifes a neceility cf preferving, not Only the fubjecl; matter and the poetical beauties of an original author, but as much as can be done of I5b LETTER XXII. his peculiar turn of thinking and mode of expref- fion. All the great /check of arts and letters are marked with a peculiar {lamp of character, derived from the manners and circumftances of the time and country, which are an interefting fubjecx of Speculation. The tranflator, therefore, who fails to reflect an image of his original, with its charac- tenftic diilincrions, though he may prefent us with a figure graceful and pleafmg in itfelf, has not per- formed his talk completdy. One of the leading faults of poetical translation from the works of antiquity has been of this kind. Our manners and entiments have become fo very- different from thofe of remote ages, that the two purpofes of translating agreeably and faithfully, can with great difficulty be made to coincide. And as the fivft wifh of every writer is to be read, he will naturally be led to prefer that mode of transla- ting which will make his work the moft generally -able. He will therefore rather ftudy to bring it nown to the tafce of his own rimes, than to carry his reader back to thofe which have been long for* gotten. Nor can we blame hiin for fach an accom- modation to the feelings of Lis cotemj eraries as is try to Secure his main end of pleating. The fault is, that this defign is v.fur.'ly earned much far- ther than is necefTaryj and fo for asalmoft entirely to defeat the ether porpofe of translation. In translating an author who lived in a rude ana vncuhivated period, two kinds cf accommodation POETICAL TRANSLATION'. 1 89 ■y. The one confifts in foftening or fup- prefiing fuch images and expreffions as would give ft to a mod* A reader} the other, in railing and adorning fuch parts as fro: ireme um- would appear to him rude and infipid. Beth fliefe niuft bo done to a certain degree ; but e much caution and judgment. The latter, in particular, is a hazardous attempt, demanding a more chaftifed and eorreet telle for its proper execution ; and I am fnrprifed at the unguarded latitude which fo rational a critic as Dr. Johrrfon allows in this point. Speaking of Pope's Iliad; he (ays, " Homer doubtlefs owes to his tranflator many Onridian graces no': exactly fa'nble to his character ; but to have added can Be no great crime, if nothing he taken away" What ! can there be a groffer violation of every principle of tafte and good fenfe, than to make wanton additions to a wri- ter's work in a ft r le totally different from his own and that of the whole age in which he lived : What is this but introducing utter confufion cf times and manners into the reader's ideas, and bringing all the ftriliing variety cf literary com- pdfition to one uniform meafure of urimeaning re- finement ? That this effect has been actually produced by Pope's fpirit of tranflation, may eafily be (hewn m various parts of his works and thofe of his imita- tors, and efpecially in that partnership concern^ hia Cdv/pv. The original poem is, in my opinion, I|)0 LETTER XXIII. almoft folely valuable from the curious pictures it difplays of the ftate of focicty, both public and dornellic, at the period to which it refers. It was therefore eflential to preferve thefe in their genuine and charafteriftic colouring; and no graces cf mo- dern decoration could atone for the want of this point of refemblance in the copy* Nothing is a more frequent topic in the notes of this translation^ than the pleafure derived from fcenes of fimple nature ; and many cenfures are pafTed upon the Jaflidious delicacy of French critics who are fhock- cd with the plain unrefined manners of Homer's perfonages. But it is impoflible to violate f; mpli- city more outrageoufly than has been done by the Englifh tranfiator, efpecially of lbme of the books ; and I am forry that the book containing the adven- ture of Nauficaa, one of the mofl pleating in the whole poem, is of the number thus traveftied. It is among thofe afcribed to Broome, but Pope is anfwerable for the workmanfhip of his journeymen. Of this fault, I mail felecl; a few ftriking examples, after premiiing a remark on one of its principal fources. All the words appertaining to royalty, as ling, prince, court, palace, &c have fo long conveyed to the minds of civilized people ideas of dig- nity and grandeur, that it is difficult, even for a philofopher, to hear them with thofe impreffions only which they excited in the early flages p£ fo- ciety. Yet without fuch a kind of ab fraction, it POETICAL TRANSLATION. I9! 18 evident that the circumflances with which fuch terms are affociated in relations of primitive life muft frequently appear highly incongruous, and produce the effect of burlefque. The only means of avoiding this confequence in modern views of antiquity are, either to lower the ideas of royalty, or to exalt the dignity of the fimple manners with, which it was then accompanied. The former is the mcft effectual, and indeed the true method ; for if we were taught to conceive of a king of Ithaca as of a chief in the Sandwich Iflands, or an Indian Sachem, we mould not be furprifed to find the fwineherd one of his principal officers and con- fidants. But what is then to become of the ele- vated character of the epoposa, and how are we to be interefted in the fate of heroes of fo low a clafs ? Our translator has therefore taken the contrary me- thod, and labours to throw an artificial veil of ma- jefty over things in their own nature mean and tri- vial. Thus when Eumasus is introduced making himfelf a pair of brogues out of a raw hide, we are told In the note, " that we mull not judge of the dignity of men from the employments they followed three thoufand years paft, by the notions we have of thofe employments at prefent ;" and this admonition is followed by fome obfervations on the dignity of arts in their infancy, and on the cookery of Achilles, and on the cuftom of the Turkiih emperors to learn fome mechanic trade. >Jow what is this but a laboured attempt to delude ? l<$2 LETTER XXIII. The real dignity cf any condition can only depend on the qualities requiiite to fill it, or the habits of thinking and acting acquired in exercifing its func- tions. A keeper of fvvine and maker of moes mult ever derive his manners and ideas from the flye or the workfhop ; and his relative confequence in any fociety only exhibits the relative advance of that fociety in power and civilization. Can any thing therefore be more abfurd, than a remark of the fame annotator, on the circumftance, that Me- lanthius the goatherd, bringing a fupply of meat to the fuitors, is made to fit at table with them ? " We may gather from hence the truth of an ob- fervation formerly made, that Melanthius, Ell* mams, &c. were Pcrjlns of difiinSlen., and their offices pajis cf honour : we fee Mtlanthius who had charge of the goats of UlyfTes i3 a companion for princes." This fame Melanthius, jnffc before, on meeting with Eumaeus, is by Homer reprefented as infulting him in the groileft terms, and telling this perfon of diftingion that he mall foon have to carry him out of the ifl and and fell him for a (lave. That fuch men were made companions by the fuitors, is in- deed a proof how little the fuitors were elevated above them, but furely does not prove that the goatherd and fwineherd were any thing more than goatherds and fwineherds. This incongruous alliance of modern jdeas ?,&%.- ed to the terms of royalty, with the cii-curnftances antiently annexed to the office, has contributed POETICAL TRANSLATION'. 193 more than any thing to give a ludicrous air to many )) foges of Pope's OdyfTey, and to miflead the E ig- liih reader in his notions of the Hate of manners in that period. Thus, when Minerva in a dream tells Nauiicaa to prepare for her nuptials, for that the be:l among the Phocacians, her kinfmen, have for fome time been paying their court to her, the tranilator metamorphofes fcfaefe petty chieftains iatv fo many potent kings. Virgin, awake ! thy marriage hour is nigh, See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs figh. The preparation for this royal wedding was that the prhiccfs mould fpend a day in warning her foul clothes, and (lie is admonifhed by the Goddefs to afk from her father a carnage drawn by mules, " for (fays me with great fimplicity ) it will be hand- fomer for you to ride than to walk, as the warning pits are at a good dlftance from the town." A fearcher after real manners will be pleafed with this ftroke of nature in uncultivated life ; but he can only be difgufzed by the tranflator's buriefijue at-* tempt at difguifmg it. In poinp ride forth, for pomp becomes the Great, And Majefty der ves a gra^e from ft ate. Nauficaa and her maids mount this " royal car" or wain loaded with foul clothes ; and her careful mother puts good ilore of proviiion into a chefl, ills a goat-ik;:i with wine. They likewife take R 1.94 LETTER XXIII. a golden cruife full of oil, that they might anoint themfelves after the work was over. Thefe fim- ple circumflances are thus dreffed out by the tranf? lator. The Queen, affiduous, to her train affigns The fumptuous viands and the feverous wines. The train prepare a cruife of curious mold, A cruife of fragrance, form'd of burnirh'd gold ; Odour divine, whole foft refrefhing ftreams Sleek the fmooth fkin, andfeentthe fnowy limbs. In this flyle is the whole adventure related ; and, while actions and difcourfes denoting the very in- fancy of civilization pafs in review before you, the language perpetually excites images derived from the courts of modern Europe. Where Nauiicaa in Homer tells UlyfTes that he will find her mother fitting on the hearth within the blaze of the fire, leaning againil a pillar, the tranflator fays for her, Seek thou the Queen along the rooms of (late j and where the original goes en to fay, that her maids (ufing a word properly meaning female flaves) are fitting behind her, the'politer copy gives her an attendance of ladies cf honour ; Around a circle of bridii: damfels fiiines. This is fufRcient to exemplify tint common fault cf modern translation, difguifirig the original by a POETICAL TRANSLATION. I95 fictitious colouring. It is, I conceive, when car- ried to the degree of the examples above cited, a fault of the greateft magnitude, depriving the reader of the amufement and information he would receive from a true reprefention of an- cient modes of thinking and fpeaking, and giving him nothing inftead but an incongruous mixture of fioiplicity in aflion with refinement in lan- guage. Another fault in tranflation, generally rc- companying the former, though of fomewhat different origin, is the fpirit of exaggeration and hyperbole, which conftantly endeavours to improve upon the orisrinal imasre or fenti* *& ment by pnfhing it to an extravagance beyond the bounds of truth and propriety. This is fo frequent an error, that it would be eafy to multiply examples of it from even our moil celebrated writers. Dryden's tranflation of Vir- gil abounds with it. Thus, in the ftory of Cacus, when Herculus rolls down upon his cave the fragment of a rock, the Roman poet thinks it Sufficient to fay, " that the wide ether refounded, and the affrighted river rolled backwards." But D ry den makes the river fairly fink into the ground, and the fky equally terrified, run, no one can tell whither ! The fky flirunk upwards with unufual dread, £nd trembling Tiber div'd beneath his bed, R 2 ig6 LETTER XXIII. Thus, too, where Virgil fays no more than that Turnis lopt off a warrior's head at a blow, and left the trunk on the fand, Dryden adds, the Lntin fields are Hrunk With ftreamsthat iflued from the bleeding trunk. But the moll ludicrous hyperbole of this kind that I have met with, is in Howe's tranilation of the Pharfalia. Luean, defcribing an army reduced to great (traits for want of provifion, reprefents the foldijrs, after having eaten the fields quite bare, a3 plucking with their teeth the withered herbs from their ramparts. This is extravagant enough, ac- cording to his ufual manner ; but his translator far outdoes him ; Then rav'nous en their camp's defence they fall, And grind with greedy jaws the turfy wail. It is confidering this fault of translation in too favourable a light to charge it upon an exuberant warmth of imagination, beyond the control of judgment. This might in feme meafure have been the cafe with a Dryden ; but a writer cf the coldeft imagination may eaiily, from the (lores of poetical phrafeology, borrow flowers of hyperbole to interweave at random into the tiiTue of a gaudy tranilation, where he is at no expence for original ideas. This frVure is indeed the moil common with o the moil ordinary writers. Pope, as far as I have remarked, is extremely fparing in its life ; while POETICAL TRANSLATION. 197 his coadjutors Broome and Fenton feem to think it the very characteriftic of poetical language. A line of the latter in the fourth book of the Odyffey will amuie you. It is part of the defcription of the palace of Menelaus. Above, beneath, around the palace (bines The fumlefs trcafureof exhauiled mines. With refpect to the prolixity, the unmeaning fuperfluities, and the conftrained exprefiions, fo commonly to be met with in tranflations, as they indicate mere want of poetical talents, they are fcarcely objects of criticifm. They are evidently much increafed by the ufe of rhyme, which ag- gravates all the difficulties of bringing the fenfe of the tranflation into a form and compafs refembling that of the original. Yet as long as rhyme is more pleaiing to the readers of Englifh poetry in general than blank \cr{e, I would not affert that tranflation ought to be deprived of its aid, more than original compoiition. It never fhould be forgotten, that the firft purpofe of writing is to he read; and that i£ this be not anfwered, a book may be an addition to the furniture of a library, without being any to the feeck of literary amufement in a country. By this criterion, after all, every performance muft be tried; not, indeed, by merely counting the number of its readers, but by eftimating the pleafure derived from it by thofe who from habit and education are belt prepared for fuch enjoyments. Many of the po- 8- 3 59S LETTER XXIII. etical writings of antiquity are, I believe, incapable of pleafing in a translation, upon whatever plan it be conducted. When a man of true genius is led to engage in fuch a tafk, we are bound rather to lament the wafte of his powers, than to wafte our own time in trying to relifh the fruit of his injudi- cious labours, Adieu! ( '99 } LETTER XXIV. ON RUINS. A DO not wonder, my dear Son, at the enthti- fiafm with which you relate your vifit to the cele- brated ruins of Abbey. The natural charms of the fcenery in the midft of which they are placed, their own intrinfic majefty and beauty, the rarity of fuch a fpectacle, and the train of ideas affociated with it, all contribute to render it one of the moll interefting objects of a traveller's curiofi- ty. I cannot but think, however, that the extraor- dinary pafiion for ruins of every kind which at pre- fent prevails, has in it a good deal of the rage of a predominant fafhion, and goes beyond all bounds of fober judgment. And as in a former letter I ventured to appreciate another point of mo- dern taile, with which this is coniiderably connect- ed, the new ftyle of gardening, I fha!l, in this, canvafs fome of the principles on which our admi- ration of ruins is founded. The firft impreffion made by the view of a mafs of rubs can fcarcely in any country have been of 20O LETTER XXIV. the pleafmg kind. It muft have been that of wafte and defolation — of decayed art and loft utility. If the " fmiling works of man" in their perfect Hate were always objects of delight, their forlorn and dilapidated condition mull have excited melancholy emotions. Thus we find that the horrors of the howling wildernefs were in the poetical reprefenta- tions of the earlieft writers aggravated by the pic- ture of ruined edifices ; nor can we, I imagine, difcover in all antiquity, traces of any other ideas alfociated with thefe fpectacles. But melancholy itfelf is a fource of pleafure to a cultivated mind, and images of grandeur and fublirrity rife to the fancy on contemplating the operation of fome mighty caufe, whofe effects do not too nearly in- terelt us. Hence the refined tafte of modern times occupied at leifure in extracting from every object the whole fum of fentiment it is capable of afford- ing, has attached to ruins a fet of ideas, formerly either little attended to, or overwhelmed by acuter fenfations. Nor have they been only regarded as feniimental objects. The neweii and moil fafhion- able mode of confidering them, is with refpect to the place they hold in the pid.urcfque; and it is chief- ly under this character that they have become fuch favourites with landfcape painters and landscape writers. The pleafmg effect of ruins on the eye, may be merely the confequenCe of their having been parts of a grand or beautiful piece of architecture. The ON RUINS. 201 relics of Grecian temples, and theatres, or of Ro- man baths and palaces, the tall Corinthian pillars which fupported fome colofial portico, the long ranks of a broken colonade, the high- roofed cathe- dral aile, and Gothic window, with its rich com- partments and delicate tracery, are all objects on which the nobleft arts have beftowed intrinfic value. They are alfo rarliks ; and they form a ftriking contrail with the ruftic and folitary fcenes in which ruins are ufually found. No wonder, then, that the barbarous hand is execrated which levels with the dull the fair remnants of a cultivated age, nor that the eye of talle and knowledge lingers in filent admiration on thefe gems that glitter amid the de- fart. In this view, however, ruins have no pecu- liar value as fuch ; on the contrary, the lefs ruinous, the better ; and a remain of antiquity in per feci: prefervation is the great defideratum to the lover of the arts. But ruins, ftiH as oojtfts of f.ght, are not without beauties peculiarly their own, which render them the favourite fubjecls of the pencil, and the admi- ration of all who travel in fearch of the p'lSwrcfque. According to their feeling?, the regular lines of art but ill harmonize with the free ftrckes of nature ; and in a landfcape they prefer the Hick-built hovel and thatched cottage to the neat uniformity of an elegant manhon. But m ruins, even of the rrofl regular edifices, the lines are fo foftened by decay or interrupted by demolition ; the ftiffnefs of defign $C2 LETTER XXIV* 33 fo relieved by the accidental intrufion of fpring* ing flirubs and pendant weeds ; that even the rich- eft decorations of art feem not mifplaced amid the wildnefs of uncultived nature. This mixture^ too, produces fornewhat perfectly fingular ; and novelty in itfelf is ever a fource of pleafure. The ivy creeping along gothic arches, and forming a verdant lattice acrofs the difmantled cafernents ; bulhes ftarting through the caafms of the rifted tower, and wild flowers embracing its battlements ; are the fantafiic ftrokes of nature working upon patterns of art, which all the refinement of mag- nificence cannot imitate. It if, however, obvious, that for a ruin to be worth preferving as a figure in the landfcape, it muft have belonged to a work of fome grandeur or elegance, and ft 111 exhibit the faded features of thofe qualities. A mere mafs of rugged mafonry, a cracked gable or tottering wall, can give no other impreffions than thofe of decay and defclation. They may, indeed, dill be piSa- refque in the literal fenfe of the word ; that is, they may with fuitable accompaniments be happily in- troduced into a pictured landfcape $ but this is only a cenfea^uence of the imperfection of painting as an imitative art, whereby the harm and prominent features of deformity are foftened into eafe and fpirit. Who has not feen an old lime-kiln or dila- pidated barn wrought by the hand of a mailer into a Unking piece of fcenery ? Yet, I prefume, no perfon of elegant perceptions would choofe to have on ruins. sqj fuch real obje&s confront his eye in the walks which la. ; ias led round his cultured domains. With refped to the fentimental effe&s of ruins, they are all referable to that principle of afibciation which connects animate with inanimate things, and pafl with prefent, by the relation of place. There cannot be finer topics for ad- drefTes to the imagination than this circum- ftance affords ; and poetry and oratory are full of examples of its application. The view of a field of battle in which the fate of a mighty kingdom was decided ; of gloomy towers once confeious to deeds of horror ; of ruined pa- laces, the ancient abodes of fplendour and feftivity ; of deferted towns where fcience and arts formerly flourifned ; of the roonefs choir and mouldering cloiiter, once vocal to pious hymns, or facred to contemplation ; cannot but powerfully move every fufceptible breail. The general fentiment infpired by fuch fcenes is that of the mutability of human affairs ; and in certain tempers cf the foul, nothing can be fo fweetly foothing as the tender yet ele- vated melancholy excited by the contrail of the ipectacle before our eyes, and that beheld by the There is a mood, (I fing not to the vaca.it and the young) There is a kindly mood of melancholy, That wings the fool, and points her to the fides : When tribulation clothes the child of man, 2C4 LETTER XXIV. V, hen age defcends wir ■ rorro .v to the grave, 'Tis fweetly foot hi ng () . pal v t p lin, A gently wakening c^l t> health and eafe. I.'ov. mufical, when all-devouring T«tne, Here iitt:ng on his throne of ruins hoar, While winds ami ten-pelts fwe -p his various lyre, Kow fweet thy dwipafon [eiancholy ! D ER, Ruins of Rome. But to enjoy this ftrain of meditation to advan- tage, it is neceffary that the place or remain mould nefei to femewhat really interefting — that the relics mould be fumcient to afford feme aid to the fancy — and that the emotions infpired by the recollecT:- ed fcene be of a kind not incongruous with thofe we are likely to bring with us to the fpot. I can- not but fefpe&, that the Gadiftinguifhing paiTion for ruins is only a proof how little their admirers are in general fentin-ientally affected by them. A gay party rambling through the walks of a delight- ful pleasure ground, would find an unpleafant damp ftrikiHg upon their {pints on approaching an awful pile of religious ruins, did they r y feel the force of its anbeiat'ens. Were they net capable of gazing at thern as mere objects of c fity, they would be fesfible of a certain incongruity of place and occalion. Whilft, on the other hand, the genuine child of fancy, often too much difpofed to a melancholy which our climate and ha- bits of thinking naturall) favour, might be led by fuch an adventitious aid to indulge nisi ..^ve hu- mour to a hurtful excefs. ON RUINS. 205 Upon the principle of aflbciation it will, how- ever, appear, that the greater part of the relics of antiquity in this country can produce but trifling effetls on the heart. The ideas they fuggeft are thofc of forms of life offering nothing dignified or pleafrng to the mind. The cancellated manfion of the ancient Baron, of which nothing is left but a Shattered tower, frowning over the fruitful vale, reminds us only of the Hern tyranny, brutal igno- rance and g/ofs licentioufnefs, which ftained the times of feudal anarchy. And if we look back to the original {late of our ordinary monaftic re- mains, what mall we fee, but a fet of beings en- gaged in a dull round of indolent pleafures, and fuperftitious practices, alike debafmg to the heart and understanding ? We are rejoiced that their by which we know that he was able to rake an impreffion on the minds of fome of his SPECTRAL APPEARANCES. 209 fubmiffive followers, whatever were their effects on his own. One of thefe, in favour of the reality of apparitions of the dead, which he feems to fancTtion by putting it in the mouth of the Sage in his Raflelas, has a popular plaufibility well calculated to give it weight. As it is alfo of a general na- ture, and applicable to a variety of illufions which have impofed on the credulity of mankind, I think it worthy of a particular examination. " That the dead are feen no more, faid Imlac, I " will not undertake to maintain, againft the con- " current aad unvaried teflimony of all ages and " nations. There is no people, rude or learned, " among whom apparitions of the dead are not " related and believed. This opinion, which per- " haps prevails as far as human nature is difTufed, " could become univerfal only by its truth : tkofe " that never heard it of one another, would not have " agreed in a tale which nothing but experience " could make credible." Refpefting this argument of the univerfality of an opinion, it may be faid, that as there are many truths which it greatly helps to coniimi, fo, :nr;y errors have at all times taken fnelter under it. The caufe of this diverfity it is cf importance to ex- amine. That a great part cf mankind agree in giving credit to a thing, even though it le fuv^Ln which com:s under their perfonal obferyatJofl-, will ■be a very flight argument cf its truth, prc\idoi s 3 2ro letter zxr. there be a manifeft fource of error in the cafe, which is of a nature to operate equally upon ail. Thus, the once univerfal and ftill common notion, that the earth is flationary, while the fun and other luminaries move round it, is not in the leail flrengther.ed by the numbers who adopt it, fince all have formed their belief upon the very fame tefti- rnony, that of their fenfes, which is liable to the fame error in all as in one. The fame may be fciTerted of the fuppoiition of a fupernatural voice fpeaking in thunder ; of lightning being the weapon of an angry Deity ; of the place of future punifh- ment being a dark cavern under ground ; and of various other opinions in which uniform affocia- tions of ideas have occafioned uniform deductions. To apply this principle in the prefent cafe. When mankind, from whatever canfes, had admitted the belief of a flate of exiilence continued beyond the prefent life, they muft have endeavoured to form fome conception of the mode of that exiilence. New, as the body lay before their eyes, a liftlcfs mafs, or was deltroyed by fire, corruption, cr other material agents, they mull necefiarily have had re- course to fome fubflance of a rarer and fubtler tex- ture, which efcaping from this grofs and perifhable part, might cany with it fuch impreifed marks and qualities, a 5 would preferve th^ ilamp of perfonal identity. How metaphyseal foever this procefs of thinking may appear, it muft actually have been gone through by the rudefl people, if they thought SPECTRAL APPEARANCES. 2lt at all on the fubjecl. Further ; that form and Jigure were capable of being Imprefled upon matter of much greater tenuity than their own bodies, they mult experimentally have known, from the familiar inftances of Jhadows, and the reflexion of their ima^e from water or mir- rors. In thefe cafes they would plainly per- ceive, that a fomelhitig, refembling themfelves, might, i:i fome meafure, Hand apart from their bodies. Thus, I conceive, it aimofl necefiarily hap- pened, that all nations formed fimilar ideas ©f the corporeal attributes of thofe who had paiTcd through death without total extinction of being, It was no longer grofs body in which they were clad : — that, it was manifeft, was left behind. But as, in thinking of the dead, it was impoflible to abstract from them fiiape, lineaments, looks, and geflures, thefe properties were annexed to a thin, airy, or fha- dowy body, which, while it might be an object of fight, and perhaps to hearing, was none to the touch* Terconatus ibi collo dare brachia circum, Ter fruftra comprenfa manuiefrugit imago, Par levibus vends, volucrique fimillima fomno. Mn. VI. yco. Then thrice around his neck his arms he threw, And thrice the flitting fhadow flip'd away, Like winds, or empty dreams that !ly the day. Dkvdzn. 212 LETTER XT?: This uniformity of conception refpe&ing men rn another ftate of exiftence being eftablifhed, it is, I imagine, an eafy ftep to the fuppcfition of their -fenfible appearand --nder fuch a form. Reveries and dreams of the fancy in perfons of heated ima- ginations are fo extremely like realities, that they are readily taken for fuch. A mourning mother, filled with the vivid image of her loft child, weight eafily, in the dark and filent hours of night, when juft finking into difturbed (lumber, imagine that the beloved form actually ftood before her. The long-revered face of an aged parent, might be fancied to clothe itfelf in a vifible garb of light, in order to confole, admonifh, or inform the troubled and folitary child. Still more readily, the murderer, appaled by confeious guilt, and in continual dread of an avenger, might body forth the mangled corpfe of the ilain, to upbraid him with terrific looks and geftures for the bloody deed. All this appears to me fo perfectly natural, and fo correfpondent to the univerfal hif- tory of the human imVd, that I only wonder to few perfons, among thofe who are thoroughly perfuaded of the reality of apparitions, can be met with, who pretend themfeives to have been witneiTes of them. And furely, the gradual diminution of thefe fuppo- fed events, now amounting in enlighted countries almoft to a total Deflation, is a much ftronger argu- ment againft them, than the molt general concurrence in their belief among ignorant and credulous peop-e ? can be in their favour. SPECTRAL APPEARANCES. 21J In the deep windings of the grove, no more The hag obfcene, and grifly phantom dU'ell ; Nor in the fall of mountain dream, or roar Of winds, is heard the angry fpirit's yell ; No wizard mutters the tremendous fpell, 2-sor finks convuKive in prophetic fvvoon ; Nor bids the noife of drums and trumpets fwell, To eafe of fancied pang; the labouring moon, Or chafe the made that blots the blazing orb cfnoon. Minstrel. Of the various fuperftitions which the poet here reprefents as put to flight by Reafon, fome have been nearly as univerfal as the belief of appari- tions of the dead ; yet it will not, furely, be now afTerted of them, that they have " become uni- verfal by their truth."* It may be further obferved, that with regard to fuppofed fpectral appearances, the id^a of them has, in different countries and ages, received fuch variations, as might be expected from the opera- tion of the fancy modified by variety of ci cum- ftances, One remarkable diverfity is, that fmiilar things are reprefented as paffing in a vilion and in really ; and fometimes it is not eafy to fay which of the two is intended. The famous defcent of Eneas, after all the difcuiTion of critics, remains liable to a doubt of this. kind. It is, however, -X- Cicero adduces this very (lime argument of the univerfality of belief as an indubitable proof of the veracity of the Delphic Oracle. -De Divm, lib. i. £14 LETTER XXV. clearly in a vifion that Eneas is alarmed by the (hade of He£tor announcing the irruption of the Greeks into Troy; and that he is admonifned by the menacing form of his father Anchifes to re- linquish Dido. On the other hand, Dido herfelf, at the dead of night, but not in her ileep, hears voices calling upon her from her hufoand's tomb ; and the realihade of Creufa,in a form larger than l:fe» appears to confole Eneas. Ovid, in his beautiful ftcry of Ceyx and Alcyone, dreffes up a vifionary being in the form of the drowned hufband to acquaint the fleeping wife with his fate. She ftarts awake ; and, as the poet very naturally defcribes it, looks round for the image fp.e hadjuft feen before her. et primo fi fit circumfpicit illic Qui modo vifus erat. Met. xi. 9:3. This circumftance points cut the origin of many cf thefe delufions of fancy. The mind ftrongly im- preffed with an image which has been haunting it during fleep, is fcarccly able to difpel the phantom, wmlil the violent emotion which roufes from fleep, flill, in the midil of darknefs and folitude, keeps poXcfilon of the feelings. The fenfation en waking from a dream of this kind refembles the tingling of a bell after the ftroke, or the flam in the clofed eye which has been gazing at the fun. The impreffion for a time continues, but with lefs and lefs force in proportion to the diftance from its original fource. SPECTRAL APPEARANCES. 2If It would be eafy to multiply inftances in which the poets, thofe faithful recorders of popular fuperfti- tions, have thus wavered between vifion and rea- lity in their representation of the commerce with aerial beings. Variations in the fuppofed form and manner under which the dead have appeared, and in the purpofe of their apparition, will be found in all nations, correfponding to the manners, religious fyftem, and natural fcenery, of each country. Thus, fomc hear the Ihriek of ghofts in the howling ftorm, fee them {talk gigantic in the grey mill upon the hill, and recognize their voices cheering the hounds through the dark foreft, or over the wild heath* Otii rs behold them clad in complete armour, mingling in the (hock of battle, r.nd announcing to the hero his approaching fate. Where the want of funeral rites was confidered as the gre?.teft of evib, the departed fpirit was feen naked, ftiivering', and with piteous looks and accents earneftly requeft- ing the boon of a little earth to cover its bedily remains. Later fyftems have prefented cherubic forms of embodied light, haggard fhades black- ened with infernal fire, and difmal fpcclres entreat- ing to be relieved from the torments of purgatory ; and I have heard of a crew of Englifh fallors, who were confident they faw their Wapping landlord pafs by them on Mount Vefuvius, and march into hell through a fmoking crevice of the moun- tain. $l6 LETTER XXV. I mall now leave it to yomfelf to determine, whether univerfal truth, or univerfal illufion, is mofl likely to aflume fuch different garbs ; and whether it becomes a man of fenfe and a philofo- pher, to reverfe the cafe of the appellant from Philip, and appeal from the world fober and enlightened, to the world ignorant and fanatical ? ( 2I 7 i LETTER XXVL ON CHEAP PLEASURES, DEAR SON, Y< OU well know how much in vain philofo- phers of all ages have endeavoured to detach man from the love of pleafure, and to fix his attention on fome fole and higheft good, which might ren- der all others foreign and fuperfluous. The voice of nature within him has proved too ftrong to be filenced by artificial precepts ; and mankind liave ever made it a great object of their lives to enjoy as much and as various pleafure as they have been capable of procuring. Taking the word in its large fenfe, and extending the plan of enjoyment far enough, both as to fpecies and duration, I fee no reafon to find fault with the purpofe ; ar.d I ex- pect no benefit to arife from eftablifhing one fyf- tem of morals for the fchools, and another for real life. Suppofmg, then, the end of obtaining plea- fure to be, within certain limits, an allowable one, the means are a fit fubje& en which thofe who T 2X§ LETTER XXVI. are experienced in the world may communicate their obfervations to thofe who have its leflbns yet to learn. It is an interefting topic, and its dif- cuffion is fairly within the compafs of human reafon and knowledge. The advice of contracting our defires, fo much infilled on by ail the moral preceptors of antiquity, is a very important one towards the attainment of true felicity. It would, however, be a miftake to fuppofe that the fuppreffion of defire, in itfelf, leads to happinefs. There can be no enjoyments without defires ; for in their gratification, all en- . at, as well intellectual as fenfual, confifls. Thofe feels, therefore, which infilled en the en- tire abolition of defire, as necefiary to happinefs, were influenced by an ai ificial philofophy, which fet out with mifunderftanding man's real nature and deiHnafeion. But, on the other hand, unfatisfi _-d lefires, or rather, fuch is we have no reafonable profpejft of being able to fati&fy, are the fource of reateft calamities of life. The true art of txiefs, then confifls in proportioning defires to means, or, in other words, in acquiring a relifh for tires. There is fcarcely a tion in life in which feme attentio to this poii t is not necefiary ; for defire is as much di to exceed the range of prefent enj. nent i the in the loweft. But u { [ary in thofe conditions, an enlarged plan cf education, and free in- CH-.EAP PLEASURES. 2I9 fercourfe with the fuperior ranks in fociety, have foftered lively ideas of gratifications which fortune commonly refufes the means of obtaining, are termed the genteel profefiions are eminently of this kind ; and numbers belonging to them pay a fevcre tax for the privileges annexed to their fitu* ation, in the perpetual torment of unattainable wi flies. Tli e profcfiion you have chofen, my Son, in a peculiar manner forbids indulging thofe defiresl which are connected with the pofleffion of opu- lence. To be made happy it is requifite that you mould be made cheaply fo ; and I pleafe myfelf with ing that many fources of enjoyment v> fully acceffible to you, which will fcarcely leave you behind the moft fortunate in the power of fe- _ genuine pleafures. Taking for granted that you will feekj and will find,, the higheft of all gra- tifications in the performance of your profeffional duty, I (hall now fuggeft to you fome of thofe vo- luntary objects of purfuit, which may moil happily employ your lei Cure. At the head of all the pleafures which offer themfelves to the man of liberal education, may confidently be placed that derived from looks. In variety, durability, and facility of attainment, no other can ftand in competition with it ; and even in intenfity it is inferior to few. Imagine that we had it in our power to call up the (hades of the greeted and wifefl men that ever exifted, ani T 2 220 LlTTU XXVI* Gblige them to converfe with us on the mcfl in- tereflmg topics — what an ineftimable privilege mould we think it ! — how fuperior to all common enjoyments ! But in a well furniihed library we, in fact, poffefs this power. We can xjueftion Xenophon and Ccefar on their campaigns, make Demcrlhenes and Cicero plead before us, join in the audiences of Socrates and Plato, and receive demcnitrations from Euclid and Newton. In bocks we have the choice:! thoughts of the ableft mea in their bell drefs. We can at pleafare exclude dulnefs and impertinence, and cpen cur deers to \v:t and good fenfe alor.e. It is neechfs to repeat the high commendations that have been beftcwed; en the iludy cf ktters by perfc:^,, who had iree accefs to every ether fource of prat irl cat ion. iuilead of quoting Cicero to yon, I mall in plain terms give you the remit of my own experience- on this iubjeo:. If dcmeilic enjoyments have con- n buted in the firfl degree to the happinefs cf my hie (and I iho>Id be ungrateful not to acknew- kdge that they have), the pleafnres cf reading have beyond all quefu'on held the fecond place. Without books I have never been able to pafs a hngle day to my entire fatisfaciion : with them,. no day has been fo dark as not to have its pleafure. Even pain and ficknefs have for a time been charm- ed away by them. By the eafy provilion of a book in my pocket, I have frequently worn through long sights and days in the moil difagreeable parts of my CHEAP PLEASURES. 221 profeflion, with all the difference in my feelings between calm content and fretful impatience. Such occurrences have afforded me full proof both of the pofiibility of being cheaply pleaded, and of the confcquence it is of to the fum of human feli- city, not to neglect minute attentions to make the mofl of life as it pafTes. Reading may in every fenfe be called a cheap amufement. A tajie for books, indeed, may be made expenfive enough ; but that is a tafte for edi- tions, bindings, paper and type. If you are fatiV fied with getting at the fenfe of an author in fome commodious way, a crown at a flail will fupply your wants as well as a guinea at a fnop. Learn, too, to diftinguifn between books to be perufeei, and books to be p^jfed. Of the former you may find an ample ftore in every fubfcription library, the proper ufe of which to a fcholar is to furniih his mind without loading his fhelves. No apparatus, no appointment of time and place, is neceffary for the enjoyment of reading. From the midft cf buflle and bufmefs you may, in an inflant, by the magic of a book, plunge into fcenes of remote ages and countries, and difengage yourfelf from prefent care and fatigue. " Sweet pliability of man's fpirit (cries Sterne, on relating an occurrence of this kind in his Sentiir.ental journey), that can at once lurrender itfelf to illufions, which cheat expectation and forrow cf their weary moments!" T 3 iii LETTER XX vf. The next of the procurable pleasures that 1 {hall point out to you is that of converfation. This is a? pJeafur.2 of higher zeft than that o( reading ; fmce in converfmg we not only receive the fentiments of others, but impart our own ; and from this reci- procation a fpirit and intereft arife which books cannot give in an equal degree. Fitnefs for con- verfataoii mull depend upon the ftore of ideas laid up in the mind, and the faculty of communicating them. Thefe, in a great degree, are the refults of education and the habit of fociety, and to a certain point they are favoured by fuperiority of condition. But this is only to a certain point ; for when you arrive at that elafs in which fenfuality, indolence, and diffipation, are foftered by excefs of opulence, you lofe more by diminifhed energy of mind, than you gain by fupe- ribr refinement of manner and elegance of expref- ?ion. And, indeed, there are numbers of the higher ranks among us, whofe converfation has not even the latter qualities to recommend it ^ but to poverty of fentiment adds the utmoft coarfenefs of language and behaviour. There is a radical mean- nef:i in debauchery, which even in the moil ele- vated conditions of all, communicates the taint of vulgarity. To hear the high-bred party loudly contending in the praifes of their dogs and horfes, ;-.nd difcufiing gambling quefHons, intermixed with proffer topics, you could not pcffibly difcover by the ftyle and matter, whether ycu were liHening . ko the mafters above* or the grooms below. It is CHEA? PLEASURES. ^3 by no means unfrequent to find the left company, the ivorjl converfation. Should your character and fituation for ever exclude you from fuch focieties you need not repine at your lofs. It will be amply compenfated by the opportunities you are likely to enjoy of free intercourfe with the moil cultivated and rational of both fexes, among whom decency of manners and variety of knowledge will always be valued, though very moderately decorated with the advantages of fortune. I would not, however, inculcate too faflidious a taile with refpecl to the fubje£t and ftyle of con- vention, provided it poffefs the effentials of found fenfe and ufeful knowledge. Among thofe who have enjoyed little of the benefit of education, you will often find perfons of natural fagacity and a turn for remark, who are capable of affording both entertainment and inftrucliion. Who would not wifh to have been acquainted with Franklin when a journeyman printer, even though he had never rifen to be one cf the moil diitinguifned characters of the age ? Information, indeed, may be procured from almoft any man in affairs belong- ing to his particular way of life ; and when we fall into company from which little is to be expected with regard to general topics, it is heil to give the conversation a turn towards the technical matters with which they may be acquainted, whence fome profit may be made cut cf the moil unpromifing* materials, Man, too, in every condition, 23 a 224 LETTER XXVI. fubjedt well worthy of examination ; and the fpe- culatift may derive much entertainment from obfer- ving the manners and fentiments of ail the various claffes of mankind in their feveral occupations and amufements. Another fource of cheap pleafure is khejhidy of naiure. So many advantages with refpecl to health, tranquility of mind, ufeful knowledge and inex- haustible amufement, are united in this fludy, that 1 mould not fail moft warmly to recommend it to your notice, had you hot already acquired a de- cided tafte for its purfuits. Here, again, I can- fpeak from my own experience ; for the fludy of Englifh botany caufed feveral fummers to glide away with me in more pure and active delight than almoft any other fmgle object ever afforded me. It rendered every ride and walk interefling, and converted the plodding rounds of bufinefs into excurfions cf pleafure. From the imprefnon of thefe feelings, I have ever regarded as perfectly fuperfluous the pains taken by fome of the friends of natural hiilory, to fnew its utility in reference to the common purpofes of life. Many of their obfervations, indeed, are true, and may fcrve to gain patrons for the fludy among thole who mea- fure every thing by the ftandard of economical va- lue ; but is it not> enough to open a fource of copious and cheap amufement, which tends to harmonize the mind, and elevate it tc worthy conceptions of nature and its author ? If I offer a man happinefs at an eafy CHEAP PLEASURES. 225 fate, unalloyed by any debafmg mixture, can I confer on him a greater blefling ? Nothing is more favourable to enjoyment than the combination of bodily exertion and ardour of mind. This, the refearches of natural hiitory afford in great perfection : and fuch is the im- menfe variety of its objects-, that the labours of the longeft life cannot exhauft them. The ftudy of nature is in itfelf a cheap ftudy ; yet it may be purfued in a very expenfive manner, by all the apparatus of cabients, purchafed collec- tions, prints and drawings. But if yoti will content yourfelf with tfie great book of nature and a few of its ableil expofuors, together with the riches your own induftry may accumulate, you will find enough of it within your compafa to anfwer all reafonabfe purpofes of in ^ruction and amufement. We are both acquainted with- an excellent naturalifc,* who, by a proper application of the time and money he has been able to ipare out of a common writing fchoo!., has made hlmfeif the pofiellcr of more curious and accurate knowledge than falls to the lot of many owners of the moil coilly treafores. The recollection of Lis modeil merit and fcientiflc content will ever, I am fure, endear to you thefe fertile {lores of cheap delight. A tafte for the fablime and beautiful of nature, as exhibited in her larger works, and refulting from the varied combinations of her external forms, is alfo productive of many exquifite pleafures,. which few ■& Mr. WJgg of Yarmouth* 226 LETTER XXVI. perfons are at all times precluded from enjoying. Td feel thefe in a fupreme degree, a mind enriched by- literature and expanded by fancy and reflection is necefiary ; and, in particular, a high relifh for poeti-y is almoft an effcntial accompaniment. Much pains do not feem reqnifite in cultivating this fpecies of enjoy- ment, for it obtrudes itfelf unfought upon every elegant mind, and the danger is, left the defire mould too foon exhauft its objects. More uneafy longings after what lay beyond my reach, have preyed upon my imagina- tion on reading descriptions of the (biking fcenes of nature vifited by travellers, than on reflecting on all the other advantages which fortune and kifure have to bellow. Yet, certainly, I would not wifh to have been lefs fenfible than I am to this fource of pleafu- rable emotions. They may be rendered more di asd varied, by calling in a taflc for what is properly termed the jn8urefque y or a reference of the natural fcene to its imitations and improvements by the pen- cil. But this I conceive to be almoft neceflarfly con- nected with practical (kill in the art of painting ; and unlefs it were made fubfervient to the purpofes of this art, I mould apprehend that more might be loft by opening an inlet to faftidious nicety, than would be grained bv viewing things with a mere learned eve. This remark would naturally lead me to confide? the pleafures to be derived from the practice of orna- mental arts, and from the contemplation of their productions in others. But though I am fully feniible of the pleafing addition thefe make to the general. CHEAP PLEASURES. 227 (lock of human enjoyment, yet with refpect to moll individuals, they fcarcely come within the catalogue of cheap pleafures. A tafte for them mud be formed early jn life, muft be cultivated with much affiduity, and at conliderable expence both of time and money. They are not of ail times and places, but require apparatus and opportunity. They are with difficulty- kept within bounds, and are continually difpofed to defert the eafy and fimple, in purfuit of what 1*3 more complex and elaborate. A tafte for mufic appears to me, as far as I can judge from obferva- tion alone, to be eminently of this kind. Where it is marked out by nature, as in fome cafes it ma- nifeftly is, and can be cultivated early and advan- tageoufly, it is capable, I doubt not, of affording the moil exquifite delights ; but then it will proba- bly take place of all other ornamental acquire- ments. A ad though fuch a facrifice may be worth making under the circumftances defcribed, yet to make it with a view of creating a tafte for any pur- fuit merely amufive, is, I think, to eftiinate falfely the value of things. If, however, experience fhews that irwifical pleafures may be enjoyed in moderation, and fo as to make an agreeable va- riety, without occupying the place of any thing preferable, my objections are at an end. The fame may be faid cf drawing, and various other taftcs and acquifitions, concerning which, accident and inclination, if regulated by prudence, may be fullered to determine the choice. 2^8 LETTER XXVI. I have now, I think, pointed out to you fource* which will f apply fufficient materials of eafily pro- curable pi, r.fure, if you bring to them what is ab- folutely effential to tlie fuccefs of any external means of happinefs — a mind in harmony with itfelf. This, nothing but confcious worth and virtue can bellow. This, " tibi ipfe parabis." Farewel ! ( «9 ) LETTER XXVII. ON ATTACHMENT TO CQVXT&Y Y< OU, I doubt not, have experienced as well as myfelf, that one of the earliefl pafuons which dif- clofes itfelf in a courfe of liberal education, is Patriotism In the moral fyftem of the Greeks and Romans, love to country ftood fo high in the clafs of duties, that he who reads their writers, and is impreiTed with admiration of their illustri- ous characters, cannot fail of regarding it as one of the qualities which moil ennobles a man. I well recollect the period, when itories of Curtii and Decii, and the lofty fentences of orators and poets, inculcating the mo-l devoted attachment to country, kindled a flame of enthufiaftic rapture in my bread ; and I verily believe there was nothing in which I could not have imitated the great exemplars of this virtue. Every thing in a youth which carries him out of felf, and diipofes him to make facrinces to principle, deferves en- couragement ; but when a duty becomes a pafiion, it is ever ready to pafs its bounds, and encroach U 23O LETTER XXVII. upon fomc other duty equally facred. In my own cafe, I confefs that I was difpofed to go all the lengths of a true Roman ; and that the glory and interefl of my country became in my eyes para- mount to all considerations of general juftice and benevolence. I adopted in its full meaning the term natural enemies ', and in confequence (as thefe fentiments were imbibed during the courfe of a widely-extended war in which we were engaged) heartily hated a great portion of mankind. I am at prefent mocked at the extremes to which I was carried by this fpirit, which certainly was not derived from parental inftruftion and example. But it will ferve to illuflrate the power of early impreflions ; and alfo to prove, that the imagina- tion being fo much more concerned than the reafon in forming thofe impreSicns, it is of the highqft importance in education that proper objects mould be put in its way. The influence of thefe adbci- ations continued with me after better principles ought to have taken its place ; and national preju- dices of every fort had a long reign over my mind. Circumftances have probably operated in a dif- ferent manner upon your feelings ; but where a point of great confequence to the formation of character is concerned, it is not right to trull to their cafual operation. Let us examine, then, if we cannot diicover fome determinate piinciples to regulate our attachment to country. There ?se two, ways in whieh this affection may exert an h\- ATTACHMENT TO COUNTRY. 23I Hueuce over us ; — as it fways our opinions, and as it directs our conduct. The opinions of men are perpetually at the mercy of their paffions. Efteem and contempt run parallel with love and hatred ; and it is as hard to find merit in a foe, as to difcover defects in a friend, or, ftffl more, m ourfelves. But opinions thus biafTed are in reality prejudices, and he whole purpofe is the purfuit rff truth, cannot too foon get rid of them. In the comparative eftimate commonly made cf cur own and other countries, the groncft of partialities prevail, which, though they may occafionally prove ufeful to the commu- nity, yet are always degrading to the individual. Lord Cheiteriield, in a paper in the IVorM, en the ufe of prejudices, introduces an hon£i°t cobler who, among other fimilar opinions, entertains a full perfuaiion that one En^lifhman can beat three Frenchmen ; and his Lordihip afks, if it would be nVht to attempt convincing him that this is an er- roneous notion. I fnall not middle with this queflion ; I fliall only fay, that I do not wifh you to be the cobler. I know, however, feveral per- sons, much above his condition, nay even men of learning and talents, who eftimate in nearly th« fame ratio our fuperiority over other nations, in fclence, literature, and every other valuable en- dowment. It is common to fay, I am proud of being an EngKfhman. This is an accurate expref- fion, for the emotion cf pride has a great concern U 2 211 LETTER XXVII. in thefe fentiments. In valuing our country, \tfe fet a value upon ourfelves ; and flight grounds ferve us for alTerting a pre-eminence in which we perfonally partake. Cut for that very reafon, we ought to fufpedt. the validity of our conclufions, efpccially when we fee the univcrfal propensity to thefe local preferences, which cannot all be well- founded. Ordinary writers cannot compofe a hiftory of the town or county in which they were born, or the fchool where they learned their grammar, without many ridiculous attempts to give them extraordinary confequence. Having been confiderably ccnverfar.t with topographical publications, I have had an opportunity of ob- fcrving the workings of this little fpuit in all its modes ; and nothing has contributed more to make me folicitous in detecting nry own prejudices, and labouring for their removal. If, then, after a fober and accurate enquiry, you mould find reafon to conclude that your coun- try does net fo much excel all others in learning, induftry, and liberality as you were inclined to fuppofe, let no prepoffcifion in its favour becaufe i: is yours, prevent you from admitting the fact with all its confluences. Rather try to fearch out the caufes which may have impeded our p-rogrefs, or even occa- f:oned a retrograde motion ; — and doubt not that you will thereby render yourfelf a better friend to your country, as well as a wifer man, than if you were bi perfevere in fupporting a flattering delufmiu. ATTACHMENT TO COUNTRY. 233 Let mc, however, warn you (and myfelf at th: fame time) that there is an oppofite fource of error. Circumftances may put us in a temporary ill hu- mour with our country ; and as the quarrels of kindred are the moil inveterate, we may indulge too bitter a refentment on the occafion. In this ftate of mind, we mall be apt to depreciate her advantages, and think worfe of her in every refpect than fhe deferves. In the comparifon with other countries, we fhall look at her defects alone, and give her rivals credit for more excellence than they really poffefs. This is not only a very un- pleafant difpofition to ourfelves and others, but leads to error as certainly as the oppofite temper. Of one thing, too, we may be well afiured — the t a country in which our language, habits, and modes of living and thinking have been formed, is better qualified to make us happy, than another which may be intrinfically preferable ; and there- fore the opinions that we have imbibed in its favour are not, with refpect to ourfelves, errors. If the Greenlander's chief delights are feal fifhing and eating whale's fat, he does right in refuimg to ex- re his icy region for a climate more blelfed with folar influence. If we now proceed to confide* the conduct that a reafor.r.ble attachment to country mould pre- ieribe, I queftion not but we mail perfectly a^ree in the indoles by which it h> to be regu- lated. It cannot fae doubted, that by the diih-ibu- U 3 2"3"4 LETTER XXVfl. fion which Providence has made of mankind: into feparate communities, connected in a peculiar manner by ties of mutual advantage, a corres- pondent limitation of the fecial duties in their general courfe was intended. Our powers of action being confined, the fphere in which they operate muft alfo have its boundaries. Country is the wideft extent to which moft men can diffufe the influence of their conduct. We are therefore bound firft and preferably to promote the welfare of our country, becaufe we can promote it to more effect than that of any other. But this, I think, is not the only fource of our obligations to patrio- tic. The debt of gratitude which we have incurred to our country has been very differently eftimated by different moraliils ; nor, perhaps, is it eafy to lay down any univerfal rule for calculating it. That we have breathed her common air, and been received upon her bofom, feems no great matter for obligation — it is rather a debt owing to the Author of Nature, than to her. The nurture and education we have had, are, in moft cafes, the gift of our parents, • who have perhaps employed their utmoft exertions to procure them for vs. We have been protected by the public force ; but of this force we ourfelves, either hy our perfons or contributions, have formed a part; and if we have only been fecured in the enjoyment of fuch advan- tages as the iubour o£ our head or hands might ATTACHMENT TO COUNTRY. 2$$ reafonably entitle us to, we may fairly be reckoned to have balanced accounts with our country. Thoft, indeed, who poffefs advantages much beyond the common (hare, for which they contribute nothing adequate in return, and which are held merely through favour of their country's inilitutions, feem to ewe it peculiar fervice and attachment. They are penfion- ers of the ilate, and are in honour bound to exeit themfelves in a particular manner for its benefit. The foil which feeds them, as it nourishes the un- toiiing race of vegetables, may claim their arms at all times for its defence. But it feems enough that one who has done as much for fociety, as fociety for him, fnould comply with thofe conditions, which the lav/i under which he continues to live, impofe upon h'm. . Thefe views of the fubje£l are, I think, juft, rf country be regarded in the aburaft, as a kind of ge- ographical idea perfonilied ; or if a community be coniidered as an afTemblage of men, totally uncon- nected in every other refpeft, than the purpofe for the fake of which they have formed their union. But is it not in fact fomething more ? Does not country comprehend all thofe individuals to whom we lie under every obligation that one human being can incur to another ? Cicero fays, finely and juRly, li Omnes omnium caritates patria una complexa eft." I may owe nothing to England, but I owe every thing to Englishmen. When I reflect, that there Scarcely exiles on earth an object cf my affection and 2$6 LETTER. ZT.Vll. gratitude which this ifland does not contain, and that all their particular interefts are involved in its general intereft, can I doubt that here the active duties of my life are centered, and that I ought to wiih for, and by all juftifiable means to promote, the happinefs of thofe who inhabit this fpot of the globe ? Thus, the patriotifm that I loll by placing it on too extenfive but unfound a foundation, I recover again by nar- rowing and flrengthening its bails. It re-appears, indeed, in a form fomewhat different. It no longer makes me folicitous for laurels and trophies to deco- rate the Genius of Britain ; for well I know how dearly they are paid for out of the comforts of in- dividuals. Still lefs does it prompt me to wiTn fuccefs to its unjuft projects ; for I would not defire that my befl friend mould thrive by fuch means. But it makes me ardently deiirous of my country's improvement in knowledge, virtue, freedom, and the arts of peace ; for every advance in thefe refpects muft be of real benefit, not only to a large number of my fellow- creatures, but to that portion of them which includes all whom I love. If you feel inclined to propofe the queftion, What, upon this fyftem, would become of your patriotifm mould the majority of your friends be compelled to migrate into another land ? — I will anticipate it by freely confeiling, that the fentiment would follow them — " Ubi cor, ibi pat.-ia." But fuch an event is inconceivable, unkfs fuch principles and pi a&k& fhould come la prevail here, as would juftiiy not only ATTACHMENT TO COUNTRY. 237 indifference, but averfion, to a felf-degradcd country. I think I could, without murmuring, or a wifh to defert my native foil, fubmit to the neceffary diftref- fes brought on by a decline of its profjJerity, though originally occasioned by its own fault, provided it were attended with juft fentiments, and melioration of chara&er. Eut if it mould grow mere unprinci- pled as more diftrefled, and take refuge from the evils of political difTenilon in voluntary blindnefs and flavery, I mould think every bond cancelled which attached individuals to fuch a community. But I will not conclude with fo inaufpicious a fup- pofi-ion. I rather hope that we mail be permitted to love and efleem our country, as much from reafon, as we have done from habit and prejudice. Such, I am fure, muft be the wife of every good heart. Adieu ! f 238 ) L £ T T E R XXVIII ©N INDEPENDENCE. D2AR SON, Oi NE of the principal purpofea I had m view when I pointed out to you the fources of cheap pleafure, was to lay a foundation for your independence in life. This invaluable poffefllon, which fo many avow to be the great objecl of their lives, yet which fo few attain, is well worthy of being made the topic of a feparate letter. -Let us firft coniider how far the idea of inde- pendence can be reafonably carried. It was, you know, the boafc of ancient philofophy, that by following its precepts, men might attain a felicity over which nothing external had power ; and i\\ the high-flown language of Stcicifm, the truly wife man was represented as equally fuiheient for his own happinefs with the Gods themfelves. If this affertion, when accurately examined, had lefs of impiety than at firft fight appears (lince it was founded rather on the imagined elevation of the CM INDEPENDENCE. ?^ r ) human mind to an unattainable degree of perfec- tion, than on a debafement of the divine mind), it was, however, chargeable with originating in falfe conceptions by the nature and condition of man. In fact, we are incapable, by our utmoft efforts, of railing ourfelves above the influence of contin- gencies, and the mofl elfential comforts of our exigence will ever be greatly dependent on things without ourfelves. After ail the deductions that the moral fatirift could make from our detires on account of their vanity, he could not deny, that the " found mind in a found body" was a fit object of petition, fince we could not fecure it for ourfelves. It is further certain, that the fecial and domeftic pleafures, thofe pureft and mofi; fatisfac- tory of all delights, next to that of confeious vir- tue, are all at the mercy of the perfons with whom we live. With how fmall a fhare of bodily com- forts life might fubiiii, and frill be worth poneffing, wc have not been in the way of trying ; but cer- :;.:nl r we are not prepared to reiign with indiffer- ence thofe we enjoy ; and yet their continence does not absolutely depend upon am own efforts. No man, therefore, ftrictly peaking, is indepen- dent. The author of our bang has connected us by mutual wants to each other ; and has given no one the power of faying, I will /;£ happy in fpite of my fellow creatures. Experience, however, ', that fome men are in a high degree intks ent compared to cthejT ; and f.cm a fnperio* 24-0 LETTER XXV III. rity in this refpect arife fome of the nobleft prero- gatives of the human character. That man may be faid to enjoy independence re- latively to other men, who wants nothing which they can withhold. If either his utility to them is fuch as to command all the return from them that he wiihes, or if what they have to bellow is a thing on which he fets no value, he is in every ufeful fenfe independent on them. And if this be his fituation with refpecl to the world in general, he Js fo far independent on the world. Now, an independence of this kind has ineftimable advan- tages. It makes a man walk through life erect, and feailefs, bellows on him all due liberty of fpeaking and acting, levels before him all the artificial dis- tinctions which keep one human being a-t a dif- tance from another, and by procuring him his own refpe&, goes a great way in acquiring for him that of others, or enables him to difpenfe with it. He who is independent cannot be greater. Ke looks down on the mofl profperous of thofe, who in the purfuit of wealth and honour enflave themfelves to the will of another, and feels an internal dignity to which they can never arrive. In order to induce him to act in any particular manner, his reafon mull be convinced, or his good will conciliated ; whereas the bare command of a fuperior is to them a Sufficient motive. The imperious necefiities which conftrain them on every fide, have no force upon him. When Whifton, m the honeft f ON INDEPENDENCE. 2 J.I hefs of his heart, reproached Sir Richard Steele with giving- a vote in parliament contrary to his declared opinion, " Mr. WMfton (laid Sir Richard), you can walk on foot, but I cannot." Thi* was a fair confeiTion of inferiority ; and after it, if Steele riding in his chariot could for an inftant fancy himfelf greater than Whifton on foot, he deferved to forfeit all title to a place among the liberal and enlightened fpirits of his time. Whifton, doubtlefs, knew how to eflimate him. " Poor man ! (would he probably fay, on feeing him drive by) hew low have your wants reduced you!"* Horace has atoned for all his adulation by the in- dependent fpirit which continually breaks forth in his works, and which led him, in one of hh epiftles to Maecenas, very plainly to hint that he was ready to reiign all he had conferred upon him, rather than give up his free-agency. Hac ego fi compellar imagine, cuncla refigno. But I need not longer dwell upon the value of -$ Whifton was probably in another fenfe the moft Independent of the two. The poet Limeres, fays Menage, being reproached with always walk- in" on foot, replied extempore in the following ^Digram. Je vois d'il'uftres cavaliers Avec laquais, cartffle & pages ; Mais lis doivenL leurs equipages, Et je ne dois pas roes fouiiers. 2^2 LETTER XXVIII. independence ; let us proceed to enquire how it U to be obtained. In the firfl place, it certainly is not t!ie neceffary refult of a man's abfolute fituation in life. Raife his rank and fortune as high as you pleafe, if his ambi- tion, avarice, or love of pleafure, rife be^rond them, he becomes as dependent as the wretch who receives his daily bread at the will of a mailer. Nay* fo much does the habit of looking for remote and elaborate fources of enjoyment gain upon the difpofition, and furpafs all common means of gratification, that the higheft ranks have in almoft all countries been diftinguifned by their fuperior fervility. in the molt brilliant periods of the French monarchy, there was not a pevfjn of quality whofe whole exiilence did not depend upon the nod of the court ; and though almoft uncontroled lords of wide domains abounding with delights, a cold look at the levee frcze every fpring of pleafure in their fouls. That a man was nothing in France but for the king, and by the kinp-, (pour le roi, et par le roi) came to be the received maxim ; and no methods were thought too mean for the haughtieit of mortals to employ, in order to preferve their intereft at court. Very vain, there- fore, it is to propofe independence as the prize of a life fpent in the fuccefsfsl practice of " Hooping to rile." The object is loil in the purfuit, fbr its true feat is in the mind. To be content with a little, and to (ccure that little by the exertions of ufeful induiby, is the OS' INDEPENDENCE. 243 only certain method of becoming independent. Both thefe points muft concur ; for neither can the wants of life, however few, be fupplied by our- felves without induflry ; nor can this quality alone procure content. The Indian fakeer who fits all day with his arms indiflblubly knit, to receive the food that devotees put into his mouth, is no more independent than the buftling mifer of Horace, who runs to the Indies through fear of the demon of poverty. Thofe, however, who have made the cultivation of their minds the great object of life, have chiefly purfued the plan of contracting their defires, and forcing nature to be fatibfled with as £c\v things as poffible ; for confidering all the time as loft which was fpent upon providing for bodily wants, they began with bringing thefe into the fmalleft compafs in their power. This was the d..cipiLie of the moil: celebrated among the ancient pliilofophers, of which your reading will fuggeil to yon many remarkable examples. Some were, no doubt, actuated by vanity in this matter, and made an oftentatious difplay of their fupericrity to common wants and defires ; yet it cannot be denied, that the higheft characters of antiquity, men who not only harangued in the fchcols, but acled upon the great theatre of the world, were much indebt- ed to habits of abftisence and frugality for their greatneCs. Many of the moft iHuftrious Greeks, and all the Romans of the firft ages, were rendered fupe- lior to the allurements of profperity and the threats X 2 244 LITTER ill VIII. qf advcrHty, by the poiTcmori of an independence of funded on the abiLiniius virtues. r Ih: afceties of the Chriilian church have per- haps carried this plan farther than any of the heathen philofophers ; and though the general principle of thcfe mortifications has been abject iuperflitior, yet they have enabled feme cf the more active among the monafric orders to over- come diiiiculticG in the way of their religious zeal, which the moil ardent courage, not inured to fuch diicipline, rauit have ii:::k under. Individuals in theie ibcicties, confiding in their ability of fu flam- ing all the hardships that men any where fuftain r and of fubfilling upon as little as they any where fubfid upon, have penetrated in their millions into regions inaccefnble to other natives of a civilized ecuntrv, and have {Iruck even favages with admi- ration of their patience and temperance. Even in the midft cf power and fplendour, feme cf them, like Xirnenes, have practiied the auilere regimen of the cloiHer ; and thence have been capable of defying every thing that a change of fortune could inilift upon them. How many at this day are probably receiving the benefit of habits of enjoy- ing, life upon a little ! It is unpleasant to rtatct, that a ciafs of men who have been able to free themfelves to fuch a degree from {abjection to cor- poreal demands, mould yet fubmit without refin- ance to the mcfi imperious deipotifin exerciicd over their minds. ON INDEPENDENCE. 245 But it would be abfurd to propofe to one who is deftined to live in cultivated fociety, and to form a part of it, an independence founded on renun- ciation of the common comforts and pleafures of life. Had you ftrength of mind to attain to this, I certainly fnould not wifh it for ycu, unlefs it were neceffary to enable you to accomplifh fome point of high utility to mankind — which, in your cafe, is a very improbable fuppofition. But what I do wilh, is, that ycu may as much as pomble become the mailer of your own happinefs — that you may ever value that true dignity of character which confifts in the free aiTertion of principle, beyond all the petty objects of gratification to which it is fo commonly facrificed — and that you be content with fuch a {hare of the goods of fortune, as your induftry and ufefulnefs may fairly purchafe. I do not defire for yo,u that proud independence of fpirit which is difpofed to reject as an infult the kind offices of honourable friendihip. You will, I truft, pofTefs qualifications which may entitle you to thefe, without incurring a debt of gratitude beyond the power of equally honourable fervices to repay. And it has ever been my fentiment, that one who is ready to confer benefits on his in- feriors in condition, needs not, x+-.y has no right, to fcruple accepting them from his fuperiors. Every generous mind feels that no pleafure equals that of conferring favours on the defervmg : this pleafare, therefore, as it is eagerly coveted, mould x 3 246 LETTER XXVfll. be cheerfully- imparted. With refpect to your pro- feffional labours, there is little doubt that they will be worthy of their reward. Whatever addi- tional advantages your fituation may afford you, it will, I hope, be in your power to compensate for them by additional exertions to bellow plea- fure and profit on thofe with whom you are con- nected. Many animating examples will prefent themfelves to you, of perfons in your ftation, be- loved, reflected, and ferved, who have yet never in their lives derogated from a manly indepen- dence of character. But all thefe have been perfons of moderate defires, as wdl as of active induflry. And from every thing I have feen of the world, I am convinced, that more is' to be done towards obtaining happinefs in general, and its precious ingredient, freedom of action, in par- ticular, by contracting the bounds of our wifhes,. than by the utmoit extenfion of our powers in filling a plan of unlimited enjoyment. This, I believe, is not fafhionable doctrine j but it is that which the experience of my own heart fuggefta* It would too, I am fure, have been fupported by the fuffrage of your grandfather,* whofe memory I know you fo juftly revere. Though by no means. what is called a high-fpirited man, he preferred during life an honourable independence, by the fimple method of making nothing effential to his happinefs which did not come within the reach of * The late Rev. Dr. Allan, of Warrington, ON fNDEPSNDLNCE. 2tf his ufeful and low-priced fervices. I wifh you better health, ftrorger fpirits, and perhaps more encouragement from the world, than he had ; — more knowledge, fuperior talents, higher worth, and a more truly philofophic temper, I need not wifh you, though paternal affection is little inclined to be a niggard in its wifhes. Adieu ! { *4* ) LETTER XXIX. ON THE CHOICE OF A WIFE, Dear son, X HERE is no fpecies of advice which feems 'to come with more peculiar propriety from parents to children, than that which refpe&s the marriage Hate ; for it is a matter in which the firft mull have acquired fome experience, and the laft cannot. At the fame time, it is found to be that in which advice produces the leafl effect. For this, various Caufes may be affigned ; of which, no doubt, the principal is, that pafnon commonly takes this affair under its management, and excludes reafon from her fliare of the deliberation. I am inclined to think, however, that the neglecl with which ad- monitions on this head are treated, is not unfre- quently owing to the manner in which they are given, which is often too general, too formal, and with too little accommodation to the feelings of young perfons. If, in defcanting a little upon this fubjecT:, I can avoid thefe errors, I flatter myfelf CHOICE OF A WIFL. 249 voii are capable of beftovring fome unforced attea- tion to what an affectionate defire of promoting your happinefs, in fo efleatui a point, may prompt. The difference of opinion between fons and fa- tlurs m the matrimonial choice may be Hated i>. a fingle pontion — that the former have in their minds the firft month of marriage, the latter, the whole of its duration. Perhaps you will, and with juf- tice, deny that this is the difference between us two, and will affert that you, as well as I, in. thinking of this connexion, reflect on its lafling confequences. So much the better ! We are then agreed as to the mode in which it is to be conhder- ed, and I have the advantage of you only ii\ expe- rience and more exteniive obfervation. I need fay little as to the ihare tint peribnal charms ought to have in fixing a choiee of this kind. While I readily admit, that it is definable, that the object: on which the eyes are mod fre- quently to dwell for a whole life, mould be an agreeable one ; you will probably as freely acknow- ledge, than more than this is of too fanciful and fugitive a nature to come into the computation of permanent enjoyment. Perhaps in this matter I might look more narrowly for you, than you would .for yourfelf, and require a fuitablc- nefs of years and vigour of conflitution, which might continue this advantage to a period that you do not yet contemplate. But dropping this part of 7=0 LETTER XXII. the '..' \ \.\r. I to confider the two to be ex: — catkn ..-._.. pged to make a v v ... . . ,'jq of fliar-; g a ;ou be - y ". « fet - Id prove tc i and :, ar.d el _.-.'" . . fortunate ^ - .hirJj yoarfelf! ..L.r. \ '■ - - tich brougi t j i l the other ] s were rej j thole * . be and ] ■ ■ • si up yoor •..::.. bruit to live io n::. mpariJ : o : - d Hiod :." the voyage of life the intra — the partaker c; aD £ rl — the Oarer u - ... : . — the matli t and . . trefi r. Are yon not Brack ... a tenfe . .' ■ ini - cosfeqaence it mafl be ol CHOICE OF A WIFE. 2 J t to you, what arc the qualities of the heart and i! lderftanding of one who Hands in this relation ; and of the comparative infignificance of external charms and ornamental accomplifhments ? But as it is fcarcely probable that all you would wifh in thefe particulars can be obtained, it is of im- portance to afcertain which qualities are the moll effential, that you may make the beft compromife in your power. Now, taftes, manners, and opi- nions, being things not original, but acquired, cannot be of fo much confequence as the funda- mental properties of good fenfe and good temper. PoITelTed of thefe, a wife who loves her hufband, will faihion herfelf in the others ascording to what file perceives to be his inclination ; and if, after all, a confiderable diverfity remain between them in fuch points, this is not incompatible with do- me-lie comfort. But fenfe and temper can never be difpenfed with in the companion fo^- life : they form the bafis on which the whole edifice of hap- pinefs is to be raifed. As both are abfolutely efTen- tial, it is needlefs to enquire which is fo in the higheft degree. Fortunately, they are oftener met with together than fepayate ; for the juft vr.d rea- fonahle eilimafion of tilings which true good fenfe inspires, almoft neceffarily produces that equa- nimity and moderation of fpirit in which good- temper properly con fifta* There is, indeed^ a kind of thoughtlefs gcod r.r.tv.re which is not unfre- quently coupled with wcaknefs of undcrfca ?J2 LETTER XXIX. but hawing no power of felf-direction, its opera- tions are capricious, and no reliance can be placed on it in promoting folid felicity. When, however, this eafy humour appears with the attrac- tions of youth and beauty, there is fome danger left even men of fenfe mould overlook the defeats of a mallow capacity, efpeciaily if they have en- tertained the too common notion, that women are no better than play -things, defigned rather for the amufement of their lords and mailers, than for the more ferious purpofes of life. But no man ever married a foci without feverely repenting it ; for though the pretty trifler may have ferved well enough for the hour of dalliance and gaiety, yet when folly aflumes the reins of domefiic, and efpeciaily of parental, control, me will give a perpetual heart-ache to a confiderate partner. On the ether hand, there are to be met with inftances of conquerable powers cf the underftand- ing, combined with waywardnefs of temper, fuffi- cient to deftroy all the comfort cf life. Malignity is fometimes joined with wit, haughtincfs and caprice with talents, fourr.efs and fufpicion with fagacity, and cold rtfeive with judgment. Eut all thefe being in thonfelves unamiable qualities, it is lefs neceffary to guard againft the ponefibrs of them. They generally render even beauty unat- tractive ; and no charm but that of fortune is able to overcome the repugnance they excite. How much more fatal than even folly thfey arc to all CHOICE o: A WIFE. 2|j ctbmeflic felicity, you have probably already feen enough of the matrimonial ftate to judge. M my of the qualities which lit a woman for a companion, alfo adapt her for the office of a helper ; but many additional ones are requifite. The ori- gin turpofe for which this fex was created, is la; 1, you know, to have been, providing man with a help-mate ; yet it is, perhaps, that notion of a wife which leaft occupies the imagination in the feafon of courtfhip. Be affured, however, that as an office for life, its importance flands extremely high to one whofe fituation does not place him above the waat of fuch aid ; and fitnefa for it ftioald make a hading confi deration in his choice. Romantic ideas of domeilic felicity will infallibly in time give way to that true ftate of things, which will (hew that a large part of it mud arife from well- ordered affairs, and an accumulation cf petty com- forts and conveniences. A clean and quiet fire- fide, regular arid agreeable meals, decent apparel, a houfe managed with order and economy, ready for the reception cf a friend or the accommodation of a llranger, a fkilful as well as affectionate nurfe in time of ficknefs — all thefe things compofe a very confiderable part of what the nuptual (late was in- tended to afford us ; and without them, no charms bf perfon or underftanding will long continue t > beftow delight. The arts of houfe wifery fhould be regarded as prifejl-jual to the woman who in- tends ta become a wife; and to fsleclt one for Y 254 LETTER XXIX. that fhtion who is deftitute of them, or dii'-r inclined to exercife them, however otherwife accomplifhed, is as abfurd, as it would be to choofe for your lawyer or phyfician, a man who excelled in every thing rather than in law or phyiic. Let me remark, too, that knowledge and good- will are not the only requifites for th* office of a helper. It demands a certain energy both of body and mind which is lefs frequently met with among the females of the prefent age than might be wifh- ed. How much* foever infirm and delicate health may interefl the feelings, it is certainly an unde- firable attendant on a connexion for life. Nothing can be more contrary to the qualification of a help-mate, than a condition which conflantly re- quires that aili [lance which it never can impart. It is, I am fure, the fartheft thing from my inten- tion to harden your heart againfl: impreilions of pity, or flacken thofe fervices of affe£tionate kind- nefs by which you may foften the calamitous lot of the moil amiable and deferving of the fpecies. But a matrimonial choice is a choice for your own benefit, by which you are to obtain additional fources ox happinefs ; r,nd it would be mere folly in their liead voluntarily to take upon you new in- cumbrances and diftreffes. Akin to an unneived frame of body, is that flirmking timidity of mind, and excefiive nicety of feeling, which is too much encouraged and* CHOICE OF A WIFE. 2$$ jTiiat this is Carried beyond all rcafonahle bounds fa modern education, can fcarcely be doubted ly dm who conlukra what exertions of fortitude and fclf-command are continually required in the courfc of female duty. One who views fociety dofely, ia its interior as well as its exterior, will know that occafions of alaacm, buffering and d.'fguft come tench more frequently in the way of women than cf men* Ta them belong all offices about the weali, the rick, and the dying. When the houfe becomes a fcene of wretchednefs from any caufe, the man often runs abroad, the woman mufl flay at home and face the word. All tins takes -place in cultivated fociety, and in cbuTes of life raifed above the common level. In a fawaere ilate, and Ia the lower comUtiorts, women are compelled to undergo even the mofl laborious, as well as the raofi difagreeable talks. If nature^ then, has made them fo weak in temper and confiitut.'on as many fappofe, Hie has not fuited means to ends with the foreiight we generally diicover in her plans. I confefs myfetf decidedly of the opinion cf thofe who would rather form the two fexes to a refemblance of character, than contrail them. Virtue, wifdom, prefence of mind, patience, vi- gour, capacity, application, are not fixued quali- ties ; they belong to mankind — to all who knrt duties to perform and evils to endure. It is furcly a molt degrading idea of the female fex, that they mufl owe their influence to trick and £ae:T-, y z 256 L E T T E R XXIX. to counterfeit or real weaknefs. They are ICO" effehtial to our happinefs to need fuch arts ; too much cf the pleafure and of the bufmefs cf the world depends upon their, to give reafon for appreher.ficn that we mail ceafe to join partnership with them. Let them aim at excelling in the qualities peculiarly adapted to the parts they have to act, and they may be excufed from aficded languor and coquetry. We (hall not think them lefs amiable for being our beft helpers. Having thus endeavoured to give ycujuft ideas of the principal requifkea in a wife, especially in a wife ft r one in your condition, I have done all that lies within the compafs of an advifer. From the influence cf pafnen I cannot guard you : I can only deprecate its power. It may be more to the purpofe to diffuade you from hafly engagements, became in making them, a perfon of any refolu- fcion is not to be regarded as merely paffive. Though the head has left its rule over the heart, it may retain its command of the hand. And furely if we are to paufe before any action, it mould be before one on which " all the colour cf remaining life" depends. Your reafon mufl be convinced, that to form a folid judgment of fo many qualities as are requifite in the conjugal union, is no affair of days and weeks, of cafual vifits or public exhibitions. Study your cbjecl: at home — fee ber tried ia her proper department. Let the; CHOICE OF A WIFE. 257 progrefs be, liking, approving, loving, and laftly, declaring ; and may you, after the experience of as many years as I have had, be as happily con- vinced, that a choice fo formed is net likely ta deceive ! You may think it ftrange, that I have not touch- ed upon a confideration which generally takes the lead in parental eftimates of matrimonial views — that of fortune. But I have been treating on the nvoman only, not on any thing extraneous to her. Fortune acquired with a wife, is the fame thing as fortune got any other way. It has its value, and certainly no fmall one, in procuring the defirable comforts of life ; and to rufh into a ftate in which wants will be greatly increafed, without a reafon- able profpect of being able to fupply thofe wants, is an act, not merely of careleflhefs, but of down- right folly. But with refpecl to the fources whence their fupply is to be fought, that is a par- ticular enquiry to each individual ; and I do net think fo ill of your prudence as to apprehend that you will not give it all the attention its importance demandc. Another confideration, that of the family connexions formed by marriage, is of a fimilar kind. Its great importance cannot be doubted ; but it is an affair to be determined on by the dic- tates of common prudence, jult as in forming thofe connexions after any other mode ; though, indeed, in no other can they be formed equally fljrong. One who is matter cf his deliberations, Y3 2$% LETTER XXIX. may be trufled to decide thefe points, as well as any others that occur in the practice of life. That vour decilions may always fhew yem to be poftefTed of a due power of felf-direclion, is the earneft wi(h of Your truly affectionate, &g* ( 2 59 } LETTER XXX. TALHDICTOB.T. A ND now, my dear Son, I feel it time to clofe this feries of letters ; not that fubjects are exhauft- ed, but that other things demand my attention. You will perceive that their topics, fo far as they relate to morals and the conduct of life, have been of a kind, fupplementary to thofe inftruCtions which you have received in a fy Hematic way from books and lectures. Of fuch inftruclions it was the chief purpofe to eflablifh principles — a point of moll effential confequence, which I hope and be- lieve has been fufficiently fecured in your educa- tion. My view in writing was rather to place in a ftrong and familiar light fome fubordinate truths belonging to the experimental practice of life, which, though not of the fundamental importance of the former, yet are of no {mall weight in pro- moting a man's happinefs and utility. With ref- pect to the letters relative to points of tafte and literature, it has been their chief aim to obviate prejudices, and to give that turn to your thoughts 260: LETTER XXX. which might enable you to judge and to enjoy for yourfelf, without firft appealing to the decifion of a dictator. For freedom of thinking is the fame thing in matters of greater and of fmaller mo- ment ; and though I hold it of little confcquence how a perfon is pleafed, provided he be innocently fo, yet I would not wifti him, even in his plea- fures, implicitly to follow the decrees of cuftom and authority, left it mould induce a habit of the fame paflive compliance in affairs of capital importance. But I need fay no more concerning the drift of letters which, I mould hope, fulficiently explain themfelves, and do not ill correfpond to my fa- vourite motto, of " free fentiments in. iimple lan- guage." It has happened, that the termination of this epiftolary commerce, is alfo the period of your finally quitting the paternal roof, and launching out into profeffional life. What an intereifing period to us both ! How extenfive a field of action now opens to your view ! What duties to be performed — what lefibns to be learned — what new connexions to be formed, and new fcenes to be engaged in ! How much attention will be re- quinte in order to avoid being in fome meafure bewildered in the variety of objects that will pre- Cent themfelves to you ; and how much will it be- hove you to fix your eyes fledfafily on the two cardinal points of duty and improvement ! You will meet with (doubt it not!) ureas of various VALEDICTORY l6l kinds to tctr.pt you out of your courfe. Be on your guard againft them al 1 , and principally againft the " improba firen efe/iefia" — for that is the charmer whofe voice has ever proved moft enfnaring to thofe of your profeflion. Many and many admonitions and counfels mould I add, were my pen to utter all my heart conceives en thk cccaficn— -but to prepare you for it is not, I truft, a bufinefs now to do. To yourfelf I commit you, with " Providence your guide.'' My dear Arthur, a long farewel ! Your moft affectionate friend and father, J. A. London, Nov. 8, 1793. T HE E N D *-