J\fachael Ernest Sadler 
 
 Tlmversitu Cdlc^e-^ 
 
 Oxford 
 
 \ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 Ex Libra 
 
 SIR MICHAEL SADLER 
 
 ACQUIRED 1948 
 
 WITH THE HELP OF ALUMNI OF THE 
 SCHOOL OF EDUCATION 

 
 
 
 .. 
 
 '
 

 
 BRITISH EDUCATION 
 
 Or, The SOURCE of the 
 
 Diforders of GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 Price bound Six Shillings.] 

 
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 BRITISH EDUCATION: 
 
 Or, The SOURCE of the 
 
 Diforders of GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 BEING 
 
 An ESSAY towards proving, that the Immorality, 
 Ignorance, and falfe Tafte, which fo generally pre- 
 vail, are the natural and necefiary Confequences of 
 the prefent defective SYSTEM of EDUCATION. 
 
 WITH 
 
 An Attempt to {hew, that a Revival of the ART of SPEAKING, 
 and the STUDY of OUR OWN LANGUAGE, might contribute, 
 in a great meafure, to the Cure of thofe EVILS. 
 
 IN THREE PARTS. 
 
 I. OftheUfeof thefe Studies to RE- 
 LIGION, and MORALITY ; as alib, 
 to the Support of the BRITISH 
 CONSTITUTION. 
 
 II. Their abfolute Necefllty in order 
 to refine, afcertain, and fix the 
 ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 III. Their Ufe in the Cultivation of 
 the IMITATIVE ARTS : fhewing, 
 that were the STUDY of ORATORY 
 made a neceflary Branch of the 
 EDUCATION of YOUTH ; POETRY, 
 MUSICK, PAINTING, and SCULP- 
 TURE, might arrive at as high a 
 Pitch of Perfection in ENGLAND, as 
 ever they did inATHENS or ROME. 
 
 By THOMAS SHERIDAN, A. M. 
 
 Hoc opus, hoc ftudium, parvi properemus, et ampli, 
 Si volumus patriae, fi nobis vivere chari. HOR. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY in Pall-mall. 
 
 M.DCC.LVL
 
 UB 
 
 THE 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 f\F the power of education. page I 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Ourprefentfyflem of education confident. 17 
 
 CHAP. HI- 
 
 Of the principles upon which afyjlem of edu- 
 cation Jhould be founded. 3 5 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of the diferent principles of the different 
 governments known in the world. ' 37 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Mat our conftitution can not be fupported by 
 any ofthefe three principles, tho they may 
 beallufefultoit. 
 
 
 t.f: ;->.ot-' 
 
 <s;oUo
 
 xxxiv CONTENTS, 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 The neceflity of another principle to regulate 
 tbefe. 42 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 r\r r 
 
 Of the power and extent of this principle. 44 
 
 CHAP. vm. 
 
 Of the principle of virtue. 45 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 The methods taken in antient education tb 
 promote and encourage virtue. 46 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The ftudy of oratory neceffary to us in every 
 point 'where it was fo to the antient s. 48 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 That there is one point in 'which the ftudy of 
 oratory is effentially necejjary to us, but 
 was not at all fo to the antient s. 52 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 *Tho virtue might have been a ftifficieni prin- 
 ciple to have fuppcrtcd the antient repub- 
 h'cks, yet it would not befufficient tofup- 
 
 port
 
 Jlh- jC O N T E N T S. xxxv 
 
 port ourjbrm of government, notwitbftand- 
 iug it be equally necejjary to it. 55 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 ; 
 
 That the caufe of the failure and decay of 
 the principle in thofe, was, that the means 
 tofupportit were inadequate, and that 
 thofe means, or indeed any of human in- 
 vention, muft be of infinitely lefs efficacy 
 'with us than with them. 59 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 'That from the nature of our fituation and 
 the peculiarity of our circumjlances, no- 
 thing could pojjibly make us, or continue 
 us a great and Jlourijhing people, but 
 an immediate revelation from God. 71 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of the means by which the principle of reli- 
 gion may be fupported, and the chief caufe 
 of it's decay Jhewn to arife from a ma- 
 terial defect in education. .82 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 /// confequences of this defecJ both to church 
 
 and ft ate y and the great advantages which 
 
 b 2 woultf
 
 xxxvi CONTENTS. 
 
 would refult to both from the fludy of 
 oratory. 147 
 
 n. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 -..'. 
 
 Of the excellence and ufe of the Greek and 
 " ^^Sioman languages. 17 j 
 
 C H A P. II. 
 
 ^hdt the perfection of the Greek and Ro- 
 
 . *J +/ 
 
 man languages was chieJJy owing to the 
 Jludy and practice of oratory. 186 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 ^That the Greek and Roman languages owed 
 tkeir ftability and prmanence to oratory. 
 Withfome animadver/ions upon the negleft 
 offtudying the Engtijh language. 192 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Caufes of the negleft hitherto of Jludy ing the 
 language. 204 
 
 O 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 'tat thofe caufes no longer operate > nor are 
 
 rf
 
 C*0 tf T E N TS. xxxvn 
 
 of any force. ~*I he great necejfity offtudy- 
 ing our language Jhewn. 217 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 'That the means to arrive at perfection 
 in our language are equally in our 
 _ power that our inducements to it are 
 Jlronger, and that we might in all pro- 
 bability compafs our end in ajhorter fpace 
 of 'time , and with kfs labour r , than the 
 Romans did. 237 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 'That if our language were once brought to 
 a ftandardy we have more powerful and 
 certain means to fix andpreferve it in it's 
 ft ate of perfection than they. had. 243 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 'That we have it more in our power to 
 propagate our language in other coun- 
 tries^ and make it univerfal^ than they 
 had". 268 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Whether our language be capable of a ... 
 jufficient degree of perfection to. make 
 
 the
 
 xxxviii CONTENTS. 
 
 the Jiudy of it general^ and to afford 
 as good a profpett of it's duration as 
 the Latin. 275 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of the means whereby our language may be 
 refined and ascertained, 3 6 8 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the liberal arts> and their four ce. 381 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 'That the liberal arts never flourijhed* or 
 arrived at perfection in any country^ 
 however otherwife remarkable for know- 
 lege^ and ingenuity ', where the ftudy and 
 pr aft ice of oratory was neglefted. 388 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 *Tbaf in thofe countries where the liberal 
 arts arrived at their higheft pitch of 
 glory , there were no traces of them> pre- 
 vious to the ftudy of oratory . 390 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 'That the liberal arts always followed oratory 
 
 in
 
 CONTENTS, xxxix 
 
 in their progrefs towards perfection ; ar- 
 rived at their fummit foon after that 
 did-, declined as that declined ; and, when 
 that was banijhed, wholly difappeared. 
 
 39* 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 hat it is much more probable that oratory 
 
 raifed and fupported the liberal arts, than 
 
 that the liberal arts raifed and fupported 
 
 oratory. 398 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of poetry ', mufick, and painting, and their 
 
 fource. 404 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 'That it is almoft impoffible that the mafters 
 in thefe feveral arts Jhould arrive at 
 perfection^ without the lights and ajjiftance 
 borrowed from oratory. 43 2 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of the encouragements given to the fever al 
 artijls during the jlourijhing jlate of 
 
 oratory. 447 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Objection to the above hypothejis 3 drawn 
 
 from the works of the modern artijls ; 
 
 and anfwer to the objection. 458 
 
 i CHAP.
 
 xl CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 'That tlx fuppofed perfection of modern works, 
 has not been fettled by a?ty abfdute flan- 
 dard t but by comparifon only. 47 1 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 T^hat the few originals, 'which have I e en pro- 
 duced fince the revival of the arts, have 
 been indebted for their chief value to 
 oratory. 475 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Good confequences to Great Britain, Jhould 
 the above opinions be found to be true. 
 
 485 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Wither it is not probable that the arts 
 might arrive at as high a pitch in this 
 country, as at Athens or Rome ? 507 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 'The chief diforders of Britain traced to one 
 fource.- 5 2 5 
 
 BRITISH
 
 A N 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 To the RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 Philip Dormer Stanhope, 
 
 EARL OF 
 
 CHESTERFIELD. 
 
 MY LORD, 
 
 IT is not from an affe&ation of 
 novelty, nor yet entirely from an 
 averfion to the word. Dedication, 
 (though I confefs from the fhameful 
 proftitution of it I have long held it 
 A 2 ia
 
 iv An ADDRESS to the 
 
 in contempt) that I have ventured to 
 alter the form which cuftom has pre- 
 fcribed on thefe occasions ; but mere- 
 ly from a regard to propriety. As I 
 do not confider this in it's eflential 
 parts to be of the nature of dedica- 
 tions, as I have none of their ufual 
 ends in view, neither have I obferved 
 any of the ufual forms. I have afked 
 no permiflion to prefix your Lord- 
 fhip's name ; I have prepared no 
 gilded book with Turky cover to be 
 prefented with one hand, whilft the 
 other is held open to receive the for- 
 did wages of adulation : I fhall not 
 pretend to fketch out your character, 
 which I confefs is far above my abi- 
 lities ; I have no thoughts of doing 
 you honour, which in me would be 
 the height of prefumption , I have 
 
 no
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. v 
 
 no expectation of deriving any to my- 
 felf from prefixing your name, ftnce 
 the fcandalous abmfes of a cuftom, 
 originally well founded, have put an 
 end to all fuch power, even in names 
 of higheft merit. 
 
 My Lord, as a fubjed: of Great 
 Britain, I claim a privilege to addrefs 
 You, as a patriot, upon a point which 
 concerns the publick good. Nor is 
 it in my own name only I prefume 
 to claim this privilege; it is, my 
 Lord, in the name of the moft auguft 
 body in the world, the people of 
 Great Britain. 
 
 In their name I have a right to 
 addrefs you to patronize and encou- 
 rage a fcheme, peculiarly calculated to 
 promote their honour and intereft. 
 And that you are the proper perfon to 
 A3 be
 
 vi An ADDRESS to the 
 
 be addrefied to on fuch an occafion, 
 will be confirmed by the general voice 
 of the nation. To prove this, it is 
 only neceffary to mention what the 
 fcheme is : A defign to revive the long 
 loft art of oratory^ and to cor r eft ^ af- 
 certain^ and fix the Englijh language. 
 Let the queftions then be afked, Who 
 is the fitter! to prefide over fuch an 
 undertaking ? Who is the beft quali- 
 fied to promote it, and to enfure it's 
 fuccefs ? I am much deceived if there 
 would be a moment's hefitation, and 
 if the name of CHESTERFIELD would 
 not inftantly be pronounced by every 
 one, who is a judge of the fubjecl:. 
 
 The utility of the defign to the 
 publick in general is the fubjecl: of the 
 following eflay ; how far your Lord- 
 {Kip is particularly concerned in it, 
 
 more
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. vii 
 more immediately belongs to this 
 addrefs. 
 
 Upon a fimilar occasion, Doctor 
 Swift made ufe of the following words 
 to the Lord Treafurer Oxford. c My 
 c Lord, as difinterefted as you appear 
 c to the world, I am convinced, that 
 4 no man is more in the power of a 
 
 prevailing favourite paffion than 
 c yourfelf ; I mean, the delire of true 
 c and lading honour, which you hav e 
 c borne along with you through every 
 c ftage of your life : and I muft be- 
 * lieve, that the defire of fame hath 
 c been no inconsiderable motive to 
 c quicken you in the purfuit of thofe 
 c actions which will beft deferve it. 
 c But at the fame time, I muft be fo 
 c plain as to tell your Lordfhip, that 
 4 if you will not take fome care to 
 A 4 c fettle
 
 viii An ADDRESS to the 
 
 ' fettle our language, and put it into 
 c a ftate of continuance, I can not 
 * promife that your memory fhall be 
 4 preferved above an hundred years, 
 4 farther than by imperfect tradition.' 
 The application of the above paf- 
 fage need not be pointed out by me. 
 I fhall only fay, that it is apparently 
 the intereft and duty of the great 
 and good, to contribute all in their 
 power to have their characters and 
 actions tranfmitted to pofterity; whe- 
 ther it proceed from a laudable defire 
 of fame, or from a principle of ex- 
 tending the good influence of their 
 example in this world, when they 
 themfelves are no more. To give ex- 
 act portraits of fuch perfons re- 
 quires able hands ; it requires alfo 
 that they who draw them fhould 
 
 in
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. ix 
 
 in fome fort have been witnefles of 
 their actions. To expect that they 
 {hould be handed down to pofterity, 
 requires that the colours fhould be 
 ftriking, and the materials durable. 
 This never can be the cafe in a fluc- 
 tuating language, nor will able hands 
 readily fet about fo difcouraging a 
 work, when they condder upon what 
 perifhable materials their labours are 
 to be employed. How many Britifli 
 heroes and worthies have been loft to 
 us ; how have their minds perifhedlike 
 their bodies ? How many great and 
 Singular characters are daily fading 
 away, together with the colours in 
 which they were drawn ? Whilft thofe 
 of Greece and Rome ftill bloom in 
 equal freftmefs, preferved and em- 
 balmed in thofe ever living languages. 
 England has never wanted proper 
 
 fubjectSj
 
 x An ADDRESS to the 
 
 fubje&s, but hiftorians ; and hiftorians 
 will not be found 'till our language 
 be brought to a fixed ftate, and fome 
 profped: of duration be given to their 
 works. ( They who apply their 
 c ftudies to preferve the memory of 
 
 * others, will always have fome re- 
 
 * gard for their own.' But could 
 they hope for immortality to their 
 labours, how would they grafp at op- 
 portunities of drawing extraordinary 
 characters from life, of recording luch 
 events as fell within their own cog- 
 nizance, and which might be worthy 
 the knowlege of pofterity.. This 
 alone could give true fpirit to their 
 works ; this alone could enfure their 
 duration. 
 
 Degenerate as the age is, we nei- 
 ther want great events, nor noble 
 characters, worthy to be recorded. 
 i Let
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. x 
 
 Let me boldly fay, for I can do it 
 with truth as an eye-witnefs, that 
 your Lordfhip's wife and fteady go- 
 vernment of Ireland, at a moft criti- 
 cal jun&ure, might afford a fubjecl: 
 worthy of the ableft pen. When a 
 dangerous, and for fome time a fuc- 
 cefsful rebellion was raging in the 
 bowels of this kingdom, to be able 
 to preferve fuch perfect tranquillity in 
 a neighbouring country, where fix 
 out of feven of the inhabitants muft 
 be fuppofed to wifh well to that rebel- 
 lion from religious principles ; that 
 there fhould have been not only no 
 commotion there, but not the fmalleft 
 whifper of difcontent ; at fuch a crifis 
 to eftablifh fuch univerfal harmony 
 and order, as were fcarce ever known 
 there before in times of the pro- 
 
 foundeft
 
 xii An ADDRESS to the 
 foundeft peace ; and all this without 
 even the awe of military power, fince 
 icarce any troops were left in that 
 ifland, as their prefence was thought 
 neceflary for the defence of the mo- 
 ther country : thefe are exploits, my 
 Lord, which though not fo pompous 
 and high-founding as martial atchieve- 
 ments, yet are better calculated to 
 fhew the flail of an hiftorian ; and a 
 difplay of the abilities requisite to pro- 
 duce fuch events, would fufficiently 
 dignify any writer who fhould be 
 equal to the tafk. 
 
 The many important fervices you 
 did that country during your too fliort 
 adminiftration ; the noble defigns you 
 had planned to put an end to their 
 calamities, and to raife them to that 
 flourifhing condition which feems to 
 
 have
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. xiii 
 have been intended for them by boun- 
 teous nature, had Providence permit- 
 ed your return to that government ; 
 as they are deeply engraved on the 
 hearts of all well-wifhers to Ireland, 
 fo ought they to be handed down in 
 their proper luftre to pofterity. If 
 they were fo difplayed, who knows 
 but fome future governor, by feeing 
 the means, might be infpired with .the 
 inclination of making a whole people 
 happy ? Who knows but fome future 
 politician might be convinced,that no- 
 thing could contribute more to the 
 ftrength and power of England, than 
 the flourifhing ftate of Ireland ? 
 
 Amongft the many points calcu- 
 lated by your Lordfhip for the advan- 
 tage of that country, there was none 
 which feemed to promife fo highly > 
 
 or
 
 xiv An ADDRESS to the 
 
 or to bid fo fair for railing it at once 
 to a confpicuous point of view, as 
 your propofal publickly made to the 
 provoft and fellows of the univerfity, 
 for the endowment of proper lectures 
 and exercifes in the art of reading and 
 Jpeaking Englifh. But this defign, 
 amongft many others, fell to the ground 
 foon after your departure, though had 
 the prayers of the nation for your re- 
 turn taken place, it muft infallibly 
 have been eftablifhed. 
 
 I own, my Lord, that this propofal, 
 and the unexpected honour you did 
 me, in mentioning my name, as one 
 who might be ufeful on fuch an oc- 
 cafion, firft made me think a fcheme 
 practicable, which had long before 
 taken pofieffion of me in idea. So 
 great an authority at once convinced 
 
 me
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. xv 
 me that the defign was right ; and the 
 opinion of fo difcerning a judge, made 
 me have fome confidence in my own 
 abilities. And when I confidered the 
 power of the patron to promote fuch 
 an undertaking, I made no doubt 
 of the fuccefs. Thefe were the en- 
 couraging circumftances, which gave 
 birth to the following effay. For thus 
 I reafoned with myfelf ; Sure the no- 
 ble propofer, and I may fay author of 
 the fcheme, who pufhed it fo warmly 
 in another country, will not flacken 
 his endeavours to promote the fuccefs 
 of it in his own. And though he is 
 no longer a Vice-roy, no longer in 
 employment, he is ftill Lord CHESTER- 
 FIELD. 
 
 As fuch, my Lord, I addrefs you ; 
 not as Swift did the Lord Treasurer, 
 
 where
 
 xri An ADDRESS to the 
 where he fays, c I take it to be your 
 c Lordfhip's duty, as prime minifter^ 
 c to give order for infpe&ing our Ian- 
 c guage ;' for you, my Lord, are no 
 prime minifter, and I fhould be forry 
 to fee a vizier in this country iffuing 
 out his orders even for fo ufeful a 
 purpofe: no, my Lord, I addrefs you 
 as a good citizen^ to employ the ex- 
 traordinary talents with which Pro- 
 vidence has blefled you, and the high 
 eftimation which thefe have procured 
 you amongft your countrymen (pro- 
 ductive of more real power in this 
 free nation than monarchs can dele- 
 gate) in fo ufeful and glorious a pur- 
 pofe. 
 
 I call upon you, my Lord, in the 
 name of our anceftors. Let their 
 minds be no longer a prey to the 
 
 canker
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. ivii 
 canker of time, as their bodies are to 
 the worms ; let them not perifh all^ 
 like the beafts of the field, but let 
 their fair memorials be prefer ved 'till 
 time fhall be no more. Suffer not 
 our Shakefpear, and our Milton, to 
 become two or three centuries hence 
 what Chaucer is at-prefent, the ftudy 
 only of a few poring antiquarians, 
 and in an age or two more the vic- 
 tims of bookworms. I call upon you 
 in the name of the prefent geniufes 
 ready to ftart, if the prize were 
 worthy of them, and the race of 
 glory equal to their immortal long- 
 ings. I call upon yoUj my Lord, in 
 the name of pofterity, to make an 
 unalienable fettlement of language 
 upon them, the nobleft eftate, next 
 a to
 
 xviii An ADDRESS to the 
 
 to that of liberty, which it is in our 
 
 power to bequeath. 
 
 If you do not make the attempt, 
 I muft fay to you, as Swift did to 
 the Lord Treafurer, you will be the 
 ihoft inexcufable perfon breathing; 
 firfly to your country, as you are 
 perhaps the only perfon who have it 
 in your power to fecure to it fo in- 
 valuable a bleffing ; next, to your- 
 felf, in neglecting fo glorious an op- 
 portunity of eternizing your name. 
 The name of the eftablifher of our 
 language, may by pofterity be held 
 not in lefs veneration than the efta- 
 blifher of our conftitution. 
 
 Should the ftudy of eloquence be- 
 come as univerfal in this country, as 
 it once was in Athens and Rome, 
 
 there 
 
 - .
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. xix 
 there can be no doubt but that there 
 will be found as many Engliili names 
 equally eminent in that art, as thofe 
 revered ones of antiquity. But it 
 hath fometimes happened that nature 
 has aftoniihed the world, in a parti- 
 cular age and country, with a genius 
 of a fingular kind, and never after- 
 wards copied her work, or caft an- 
 other in the fame mould. Such was 
 the Casfar of Rome, who amidfl the 
 crowd of orators flidne forth emi- 
 nently diftingiiifhed, and feemed to 
 be a fpecies by himfelf. Should our 
 language now be fixed, pofterity will 
 know, as .well as we of the prefent 
 age, that we have already equalled 
 Rome in this refpedl:, and it will for 
 ever redound to the glory of this 
 country, that England alone can 
 a 2 boaft
 
 XX An ADDRRSS to the 
 
 boaft of having produced a rival to 
 Csefar in that point. That I may 
 not be thought partial, or in the leaft 
 to have exaggerated on this occafion, 
 I fhall here prefent the picture of 
 that great man, in his oratorial ca- 
 pacity, as drawn by the mafterly 
 hand of Cicero. 
 
 0$uid nofter hie C<efar ? nonne no- 
 vam quandam rationem attulit oraiio- 
 ms y feP dicendi genus induxit prope 
 fingulare ^ %uis unquam res prater 
 hum tragkas pene cornice^ trifles re- 
 miffe^ fever as hilare, forenfes fcenica 
 prope venuflate tra&avit^ atque ita, 
 ut mque jocus magnitudine rerum 
 excluderetur^ nee gravitas facetii s 
 minueretur ? 
 
 - Such an extraordinary genius added 
 a new luftre to Rome, as it gave 
 
 them
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD. xxi 
 them a fuperiority over Greece in her 
 moft favourite art. Since England 
 has produced an equal, it is of con- 
 lequence to the honour of the coun- 
 try that the memorial of it fhould be 
 preferred ; as there is the greateft 
 reafon to believe that fhe may never 
 produce another. For as nature never 
 beftowed but one fuch upon all anti- 
 quity, why fhould we hope that (he 
 fhould be more profufe to us ? The 
 memorial of it can be preferved no 
 other way but by fixing our lan- 
 guage. If that be not done, c I can 
 * only promife your Lordfhip ( give 
 me leave to addrefs you in a parody 
 of what Dr. Swift faid to Lord Oxford 
 on a like occafion) c that about two 
 4 hundred years hence, fome painful 
 4 compiler, who will be at the trouble 
 a 3 c of
 
 lo Jbs: 
 xxii An ADDRESS to the 
 
 * of ftudying old language, may in- 
 f form the world, that in the reign 
 
 * of George the fecond, lived Philip 
 ' Earl of Chefterfield, remarkable for 
 c eloquence in his days, and for a 
 
 * peculiar vein of pleamtry, which 
 
 < in an extraordinary manner capti- 
 f vated the hearts of his hearers. 
 That fome of his orations ftill re- 
 
 * mained, to be found in a few cu- 
 
 < rious collections, but the language 
 ' was fo obfolete, that he could dii-- 
 f cover no traces in them of that wit 
 
 * and humour which were fo admire4 
 
 * in his own times.' 
 
 It may be expected that I fnould 
 not clofe tins addrefs, without offer- 
 ing fome arguments on my own, ac- 
 count, and from fome hints dropped 
 above, laying a perfonal claim to your 
 
 Lord-
 
 Earl of CHESTERFIELD, xxiii 
 
 Lordfhip's countenance and favour in 
 my undertaking. But after having 
 urged motives of fo much a nobler 
 kind, any of that fort would appear 
 with but an ill grace. 
 
 Perhaps it may be thought in this, 
 that I am acting the part of an artful 
 accountant, who by omitting fome 
 articles makes the ballance appear in 
 his own favour, and that by this means 
 I have cunningly brought your Lord- 
 fhip into my debt. But I can foon 
 clear up that matter, by declaring 
 that during your Lordfhip's govern- 
 ment of Ireland, you heaped fuch ob- 
 ligations on me, by your countenance 
 and powerful affiftance in promoting 
 another undertaking, which I once 
 fondly thought would have been of 
 lading fervice to my country, that I 
 a 4 have
 
 xxiv An ADDRESS, &c. 
 
 have ever fince looked upon myfelf as 
 greatly your Lordfliip's debtor. And 
 I had no method, in my low {ituation 
 of life, of clearing off any part of the 
 large fcore, but that of throwing an 
 opportunity in your way of doing a 
 great publick good. I am, my Lord, 
 with the moft profound refped 
 
 Your Lordfhip's 
 / 
 
 Moft obliged, 
 
 And obedient fervant, 
 
 Thomas Sheridan.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT is not altogether from a compliance 'with 
 cujlom, that the author of the following 
 ejjay has thought it proper to write a pre-? 
 face to his work ; but he was induced to it from 
 two material confederations. The firft is, to 
 endeavour to befpeak the reader s indulgence to 
 the many errors and inaccuracies, which it is 
 more than probable he will find fcattered 
 throughout the whole performance. Tet he 
 doubts not but that the candid and humane will 
 make all proper allowances, when they are in- 
 formed that the whole was begun and fnijhed 
 during a few months recefs in the laftfummer ; 
 . and that whil/i he was about it he had repeated 
 attacks of a dif order, which often put it out of 
 his power to give the leafl attention to it for 
 federal days together, and at the beft feldom al- 
 lowed him an application of more than three or 
 four hours in any one day. He knows with how 
 bad a grace all excufes on account of haft e come 
 before the publick, fince the anfwer is obvious 
 enough, that an author is under no compulfion 
 
 to
 
 xxvi PREFACE. 
 
 to give his works to the world \ and it is v. 
 fpetf due to the publick to keep them by bim> 
 'till he has rendered them at lea ft as Jinifled as 
 his talents can make them. But if the matter here 
 treated of be offuch importance as the writer 
 pretends, it is impoffible that it can be toofoon 
 offered to the confideration of the world, even 
 in a rude and undigejledjlate. Nor could any 
 little addition of fame which the author might 
 expect from keeping it by him 'till he hadpolijhed 
 the 'work, compensate for the lofs which the pub- 
 lick might fuftain by fuch delay. Indeed the 
 little pretenfions which the author has to fame on 
 the f core of writing, have made this in him but 
 a fmall facrifice . It is now more than ten years 
 Jlnce he has been an alien to all learned ftudies, 
 and a Jl ranger to books in general, except fuch 
 only as were necejjary to the difcharge of a 
 troublefome and laborious employment. This 
 is his frft attempt as a writer, without any 
 previous Jleps taken, without any pains to qua- 
 lify him Jor fo difficult an office. 'Thus cir- 
 rumftanced, how vain were all hopes ofpraife ! 
 Happy indeed Jhall he think himfeJf, if he can , 
 efcape cenfure ! He hopes the matter, whereof 
 he treats, not the manner in which it is hand- 
 will be chief y can/idercd by the reader - t
 
 PREFACE. xxvii 
 
 the whole of bis humble pretences to merit ar. 's 
 from tke defgn, not execution* Qrfiouldkisjlyle 
 be difapprovod, he will at lea ft have the cr viola- 
 tion of affording in himfelf, a flrcng example 
 of a point^ which he has laboured* to i? 
 the necefjity of ftudying our own language in 
 oar early years. 
 
 The other confederation, was, left the reader 
 might imagine from fome pajjages in this cfjay, 
 that he has any thoughts in the plan which ke 
 has promifed at the end of the work, of inter- 
 fering with the prefent ejlablijkment of fchools 
 and colleges. 'To obviate any fuch furmife, he 
 begs leave to declare, that the reflections which ke 
 has thrown out upon the many evils attending 
 the prefent mode of education, have not been le- 
 velled at the inftitutions themfelves, but at the 
 abufe of them, thro the cbftinacy and ignorance 
 of pedantick majlers, and unjkilful tutors. To 
 the care of fuch, it is to be feared, too many of 
 fhe youth of thefe kingdoms have been commit- 
 ed. He is jb far from thinking a fchool and 
 college education unnecessary, that he knows not 
 how a man can well be a finijhed gentleman 
 without having firfi paffed thro thofe. Nay, q 
 competent knowlcge of all thofe things which are 
 taught there, is ej'ential to all fuch as may tope 
 
 2 tO
 
 xxviii PREFACE. 
 
 to receive benefit from his plan. Nor has any 
 thing precipitated the execution of his defign jo 
 much> or given him Jlich f anguine hopes of juccefs 
 in if, as a late revolution in the two great Jchooh 
 of this kingdom. It is not long fine? a man fuf~ 
 jiciently young not to have any rooted prejudices, 
 and yet of an age when judgement may be at it's 
 utmo/l maturity, was placed at the hcadofWejl- 
 minfterfcboQl. It muft be a doubt with allwlo 
 have the pleafurc of knowing him, whether na- 
 ture or art have contributed mo ft to qualify him 
 for the difcharge offo important an employment. 
 In him are united all the requisites which 
 >uintiiian thought necejjary to the forming a 
 complete mafttr ; and by Juch rules as are laid 
 down by the great Roman, has the Englifo pre- 
 ceptor fquared his conduct. Ipfe nee habeat 
 vitia, nee ferat. Non aufteritas ejus triftis, 
 non diffoluta fit comitas : ne inde odium, hinc 
 contemtus oriatur. Plurimus ei de honefto 
 ac bono fit fermo. Nam quo fepius monu- 
 erit, hoc rarius cailigabit. Minirne iracun^ 
 dus j nee tamcn eorum quas emendanda e- 
 runt, diiTimulator : {implex in docendo, pa- 
 tiens laboris, affiduus potius quam immodi- 
 cus. Interrogantibus libenter refpondeat, non 
 interrogantes percontetur ultro. In laudan- 
 
 dis
 
 PREFACE. xxix 
 
 dis difcipulorurn diction ibus, nee mallgnus, 
 nee effufus : quia res altera tedium laboris, 
 altera fecuritatem parit. In emendando quas 
 corrigenda erunt, non acerbus, minimeque 
 contumeliofus. Nam id quidem multos a 
 propofito ftudendi fugat, quod quidam fie 
 objurgant, quafi oderint. Ipie aliquid, imo 
 multa quotidie dicat, quas fecurn audita re- 
 ferant. Licet enini latis exemplorum ad 
 imitandum ex leclione fuppeditet, tamen viva 
 ilia, ut dicitur, vox alit plenius 1 , prscipue- 
 que praeceptoris, quem difcipuli, fi modo 
 recle fint inftituti, & amant, & verentur. 
 Vix autem dici potefl, quanto libentius imi- 
 temur eos quibus favemus. Sumat igitur 
 ante omnia parentis erga difcipulos fuos ani- 
 mum, ac fuccedere fe in eorum locum a qui- 
 bus fibi liberi traduntur, exiftimet. Here is. 
 to be found an exaft reprefentation of Dr. 
 Markhams conduct towards hispupih ; no won- 
 der then that he meets with nothing bu 
 love and reverence on their parts. 
 
 Indeed, if the great eft faeetnefs o 
 
 joined to the moft manly firmnefs \ the rnoft folid 
 
 judgement : , to the moft refined tafte ; the jlneft 
 
 invention and accuracy of dejign^ to the niceft 
 
 Jkill and patient ajjiduity in the execution , an 
 
 txtenfivc
 
 xxx PREFACE. 
 
 extenfive knowlcge in all affairs divine and 
 human , adorned by all the chriflian virtues j in 
 Jhort^ if an union of the cooleft head and war me ft 
 heart in one and 'the fame perfon, can form a com- 
 plete preceptor for ycutL\ England may boajl of 
 being in pojjcj/ion offuch aperfon. Vr.derfuch a 
 head,no wonder fuch rapid improvements have been 
 made in that fchool, not only in allufefulftudies, 
 but in morals alfb ; hitherto fear ce thought to be 
 part of the province of a teacher of Greek and 
 Latin. Tet thefe are but the dawtiings of this 
 great genius. His noble plan for building a 
 fquare, which has already defervedly met with a 
 parliamentary fanftion, andfome more extenjivc 
 dejigns, when executed, will fliew him at his 
 meridian height. Atid it is matter of great com- 
 fort to think^ that there is the faire',l profpeci? 
 from his youth and vigorous constitution, of his 
 being able himfelftofee the glorious defignfinifh* 
 ed, without leaving it to the chance of being 
 fpoiled by bungling hands. 
 
 Happy it is for England, that at the fame 
 time there is placed at the head cf the other 
 great fchool, a man who will not readily yield 
 the palm in any of the above refpccls to bis ri- 
 val. One t who as be is much of the fame age 
 and vigour as the other , as he is pojfejjed of 
 
 liar
 
 P R E F A C E. xxxi 
 
 flmilar falevfs, fo is he not inferior in an ar- 
 dent defire of dij "charging bis duty to the ut- 
 moft. Nor has fame been at all ftlent in re- 
 gard to the many improvements in education 
 already made by Mr. Barnard of Eton. From 
 a proper emulation between two fuch men, what 
 happy 'fruits may not be produced to this coun- 
 try ? It is with great pleajure that the author 
 can -ajjure 'the publick, that amongft many other 
 good cuftoms introduced into both thofe fchocls, 
 pronunciation and the art of fpeaking are now 
 'made effential points. Upon fuch foundations 
 what fuperftruffures may not be raifed ? There 
 can be no doubt but that many excellent tutors 
 are to be found in both iiniverfitics, capable of 
 promoting the growth of plants fo judicioujly 
 reared j and their number muft joon be much 
 incrcafed by thofe who are tranfplanted thither 
 from fuch admirable feminaries. So that it 
 will hereafter be entirely the fault of all pa- 
 rents who can afford it, from a wrong choice 
 of places and perfons, if their fons are not 
 trained in the moft perfect manner in the paths 
 of knowlege and virtue. 
 
 This it was, which made the author boldly 
 ajjerty that Britijh education might now be 
 rendered more complete, than that of any otfor 
 
 nation
 
 xxxii PREFACE. 
 
 nation in the world, either antient er moa. 
 'This it was which made him hope for the mofl 
 perfect fuccefs to his plan. Of which he ft all 
 fay no more at prefent, but that it is entirely 
 calculated to finifli the education of a 
 gentleman, and to take it up only where the 
 univeriity leaves it. 
 
 T H E
 
 BRITISH 
 EDUCATION,&c. 
 
 BOOK I. CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Power of Education. 
 
 AMIDST the general outcry againft 
 the enormity of the times, the 
 endeavours of our beft writers 
 and preachers to reform them, the atten- 
 tion of the legiflature, ib often rouzed of 
 late by his majefty's paternal care, and the 
 number of penal laws made to check the 
 progrefs of vice, the torrent is ftill too 
 itrong to be refilled, and thefe weak 
 damms are borne away : irreligion, im- 
 morality, and corruption are vifibly in- 
 creafed, and daily gather new ftrength. 
 B If
 
 2 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 If a phyfician fhould find his patient 
 ftill growing worfe under the regimen 
 he prefcribed, he will not obftinately 
 perfift in the fame courfe, but will try 
 new remedies. Yet if he be not ac- 
 quainted with the fource of the diforder, 
 he may go through the whole materia 
 medica to no purpofe. The firft ftep to- 
 wards a cure, is to know the caufe of the 
 difeafe, and when that is removed the 
 effect will ceafe of courfe. 
 
 When a nation is funk to a certain de- 
 gree of depravity, and corruption, penal 
 laws are of little force. Their efficacy 
 depends upon their execution, and when 
 that is rendered difficult, or impoffible, 
 they become of little or no ufe. When 
 the bulk of mankind are good, it is the 
 intereft of each individual to detect and 
 puniih a villain : when they are bad, it 
 becomes their intereft to fcreen him from 
 punifhment, for crimes, of which they arc 
 equally guilty, and confequently equally 
 liable to- the fame punifhment. Thus the 
 fting of the law is taken out, or often 
 turned upon the innocent. The few good 
 are awed by the powerful confederacy 
 
 amongil
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 3 
 
 amongft the numerous wicked. If they 
 attempt to bring an offender to juftice, 
 they are often branded with the name of 
 informers ; they are baffled by pack'd 
 juries, and fuborned witneflfes : or if they 
 carry their point, it is at fuch an expence 
 as will deter moil people from following 
 their example. At fuch a crifis, the vir- 
 tuous few, rinding their endeavours to 
 ferve the publick ineffectual, or even dan- 
 gerous, retire as foon as poffible from the 
 bufy world, and leave the field open to 
 the vicious to range in at large without 
 controul. They who ftill keep their pofts, 
 and remain in the legiflature as guardians 
 to their country, may wafte their time in 
 making new penal laws, for new crimes j 
 and the fertile invention of man in wick- 
 ednefs, will furnifh them with fufficient 
 employment. Thefe laws, if not executed, 
 are at beft ufelefs ; but when fwelled to an 
 immoderate lize, become a greater evil 
 than the difeafe. 
 
 When the law is trampled under foot, 
 
 and punimment no longer dreaded, how 
 
 can we expect that weaker inftruments 
 
 will have any efFecT: ? The edge of fatyr 
 
 B 2 cannot
 
 4 BRITISH Bo6fc I; 
 
 cannot prevail againft men, who cloath 
 themfelves with vice, as with an armour ; 
 nor will the fling of ridicule be felt by 
 thofe, who are invulnerable to mame. 
 
 Such fymptoms in a ftate are fure prog- 
 nofticks of approaching ruin j and its end 
 cannot be far off, unlefs prevented by ad- 
 equate remedies. As the difeafe arifes 
 from an univerfal corruption of manners, 
 it can be cured only by a general refor- 
 mation. Our manners depend upon our 
 notions and opinions, and our opinions 
 and notions are the refult of education. 
 This, and this alone, muft necefTarily be 
 the fource of all our diforders ; and here, 
 and here only, muft we therefore look for 
 a cure. 
 
 Wifdom and knowlege, are the pa- 
 rents of religion and virtue ; folly and ig- 
 norance, of vice and impiety : where 
 wifdom and knowlege are wanting in a 
 nation, virtue and religion will hardly be 
 found j and when ignorance and folly 
 reign, vice and impiety will be feen tri- 
 umphant. The only way then to bring 
 about a reformation of manners, is to re- 
 ftore wifdom, and knowlege. This can 
 
 be
 
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 5 
 
 be effected only by a right fyftem of edu- 
 cation. Wifdom, knowlege, and confe- 
 quently virtue, are not to be acquired any 
 other way. If we look into the hiftory 
 of all nations, we mall find their flourifh- 
 ing ftate owing to the proper education of 
 their youth. What but that raifed the 
 petty ftate of Athens to its amazing pitch 
 of glory and power ? What but that made 
 Rome the miftrefs of the world ? By that 
 the Chinefe government hath remained 
 unaltered upwards of two thoufand years, 
 notwithstanding feveral interline commo- 
 tions, and feveral conquefts by foreign 
 enemies. Nay it ftill continues the fame, 
 without the leaft variation, altho' it was 
 intirely fubdued by the Tartars, in whofe 
 pofTeflion it has been for more than a cen^ 
 tury. 
 
 But the prodigious power of education 
 was never feen fo ftrongly as in the Spartan 
 commonwealth j for by the force of that 
 alone was their ftate preferved in vigour 
 for upwards of feven hundred years, upon 
 principles directly oppofite to the nature of 
 man. How much greater then muft its 
 power be in affifting nature ? Let us caft 
 B 3 our
 
 6 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 our eyes towards the now barbarous Africk, 
 once the fource of arts and fciences; to 
 what owes (he her prefent deplorable con- 
 dition, but to the want of education ? 
 Whilft on the other hand, it is by that 
 alone the northern and weftern regions of 
 Europe, once rude and favage, have rifen 
 to their prefent fplendour. So that it is 
 evident there is no effential difference 
 from nature between men of different re- 
 gions of the earth, but that the whole de- 
 pends upon the culture of their under- 
 ftanding? *. Nay fuch is the power of a 
 well difciplined mind, that it hath been 
 known that one or two perfons only of 
 eminence in a ftate, fo trained, have fud- 
 denly raifed their country from obfcurity 
 to glory. 
 
 Thebes, and Macedon, on account of 
 their ftupidity, and ignorance, were held 
 in fuch contempt by the other flates of 
 
 * When Chaldea and u^gypt were learned and civil, 
 Greece and Rome were rude and barbarous, as all JEgypt 
 and -Syria now are, and have been long. When Greece 
 anc. Konie were at their heights in arts and fcienceb, Gaul, 
 Germany, Britain, were as ignorant and barbarous, as 
 any parts of Greece or Turkey can be now. 
 
 Sir William Temple, efTay upon ancient and modern 
 learning. 
 
 Greece,
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 7 
 
 Greece, that their names were proverbial : 
 yet when in the former of thefe Epami- 
 nondas and Pelopidas arofe, enlightened 
 by the precepts of Lyfis, one of the great- 
 eft philofophers of the age, they raifed 
 the Theban name to fuch a pitch of glory, 
 as to obfcure all others, and ftruck terror 
 into the mighty commonwealths of Sparta, 
 and of Athens. It is very remarkable alfo, 
 that Philip, born in Macedon, happening 
 to be an hoftage in the houfe of the father 
 of Epaminondas at Thebes, received the 
 benefits of the fame education, under the 
 fame tutor ; and that this man afterwards 
 raifed the poordefpifed ftate of Macedon fo 
 high, as to give law to all Greece, and in 
 fome time to the greateft part of the then 
 known world. It was to the extraordinary 
 care taken in his education by his father, 
 that Rome owed her Scipio, the preferver 
 of his country, the conqueror of Carthage, 
 one of the beft men, and greateft heroes 
 of antiquity. 
 
 When Paulus Emilius conquered Per- 
 
 feus, he looked down upon his riches with 
 
 contempt, and would fuffer his fons to 
 
 take nothing away but his library, which 
 
 B 4 he
 
 8 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 he looked upon as containing true mines of 
 real treafure. 
 
 There need not examples from hiftory 
 to prove, that the well-being of a ftate de- 
 pends upon the education of their youth. 
 There cannot be a good, and wife com- 
 munity, made up of foolifh and vicious in- 
 dividuals 5 and individuals cannot be made 
 wife or good, but by education. If that 
 be faulty or wrong, the effefts will necef- 
 farily (hew themfelves in the lives of men. 
 When the fountain head is polluted, the 
 ftreams which flow from it cannot be 
 clear. 
 
 The power of the firft impreflions made 
 upon the minds of men, and the influ- 
 ence they have upon their conduct ever 
 after, is a beaten topick : holy writ, and the 
 ckf ck writers, abound in fentences to this 
 effect ; and hiftory furnimes us with innu- 
 merable examples. Of which there is none 
 more remarkable than that of Alexander 
 the great ; whofe early mind received fuch 
 a tinfture, and imbibed fuch notions of 
 falfe glory, from the leflbns of a fervile 
 flattering tutor, Leonides, as could not af- 
 terwards
 
 CHAP.I. EDUCATION. 9 
 
 terwards be effaced by the pains and fkill 
 of an Ariftotle. 
 
 From education alone have flowed all 
 the various cuftoms, and manners j all the 
 different inftitutions, civil, and religious ; 
 all the feveral fyftems, moral, and political, 
 of the feveral nations of this peopled earth. 
 If we are more unfettled in our notions, 
 and confequently more irregular in our ac~ 
 tions, than any other nation under the fun; 
 if what the late bifhop of Cloyne fays be 
 true, that, * The pretenfions and difcourfes 
 
 * of men throughout thefe kingdoms, 
 ' would, at firft view, lead one to think 
 ' that the inhabitants were all politicians ; 
 
 * and yet, perhaps, political wifdom hath 
 
 * in no age or country, been more talked 
 ' of or lefs underftood. Licence is taken 
 
 * for the end of government, and popular 
 c humour for its origin. No reverence 
 ' for the laws, no attachment to the con- 
 c ftitution, little attention to matters of 
 ' confequence, and great altercation upon 
 
 * trifles j fuch idle projects about religion, 
 
 * andgovernmentjasifthepublickhadbpth 
 c to chufe ; a general contempt of all au- 
 
 * thority, divine and human 3 an indiffe^
 
 io BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' rence about the prevailing opinions, whe- 
 ' ther they tend to produce order, or dif- 
 ' order, to promote the empire of God, or 
 ' the devil : thefe are the fymptoms that 
 * flrongly mark the prefent age.' If all 
 this, I fay, be fo, whence can it proceed 
 but from a defective education, which 
 not taking care to fettle the notions of men 
 upon the bafts of right reafon, leaves their 
 unfurnimed minds open to receive any opi- 
 nion which chance may throw in their way, 
 which caprice may hunt after, or inclina- 
 tion grafp at ? 
 
 Evident as this point is, is it not amaz- 
 ing, as if men were blind, or infatuated, 
 that they have not hitherto turned their 
 thoughts to examine the only fource, from 
 which all the happinefs or mifery of the 
 nation mud necefTarily flow ? That they 
 {hould employ their time either in crying 
 out againit the increaiing tide of corrup- 
 tion, which threatens a deluge to the land; 
 or in endeavouring to raife damms in thofe 
 places where the breadth, depth, and ra- 
 pidity of the waters, baffle all the efforts 
 of man to ftop their courfe r And though 
 they daily find their labours ineffectual, 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 11 
 
 and likely to continue fo from the violence 
 of the torrent, yet that they mould ob- 
 ftinately perfift in the fame courfe, with- 
 out once going to the fountain head; 
 which they might not only purge, and 
 cleanfe, but with eafe divert its courfe into 
 feveral channels, fo as to fend forth falu- 
 brious ftreams to water the whole land. 
 
 Important as it is to the flate, education 
 hath never once claimed the attention of 
 the legiflature fince its firfl inftitution. 
 Tho' it was eftablimed in times fc of great 
 ignorance, and confequently muft be fup- 
 pofed to be very defective, yet have we 
 gone on in the fame fyftem, with the 
 fame blind obedience, that the Roman ca- 
 tholicks pay to the infallibility of the pope. 
 Interefting as it is to every individual of 
 fociety, yet no one topick has lefs employed 
 the pens of our writers. Whether it be 
 that they were blinded by prejudice in fa- 
 vour of a method in which they them- 
 felves were trained j or that the difficulty 
 of a reformation deterred them from the 
 attempt, fo it is, that we have in our whole 
 language but two treatifes of any note ex- 
 prefsly written on that fubjecl:. The firft, 
 
 amort
 
 12 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 a fliort one by Milton, the other, by 
 Mr. Locke. The former clearly points 
 out the faults and defects in our education, 
 but the remedies propofed are too ftrong 
 for men of a fickly habit of body, made 
 weak and feeble by long difeafe. They 
 are calculated only for thofe of robufl ath- 
 letick constitutions, labouring under fmall 
 diforders ; or, as he himfelf expreffes it, 
 
 * This is not a bow for every man to moot 
 c in, but will require flnews alrnoft equal 
 
 * to thofe which Homer gave Ulyffes/ 
 The other by Mr. Locke, is only an at- 
 tempt to mend and patch our prefent fyf- 
 tem, fuch as it is, and to make fome alte- 
 rations in it > but is far from containing 
 any endeavour towards extending it. This 
 he himfelf acknowledges in the latter part 
 of his treatife, where he fays, c Tho' I am 
 ' now come to a conclufion of what ob- 
 ' vious remarks have fuggefted to me con- 
 
 * cerning education, I would not have it 
 
 o ' 
 
 * thought that I look on it as a juft treatife 
 ' on that fubject. I have touched little 
 
 * more than thofe heads which I judged 
 f neceflary for the breeding of a young 
 
 * gentleman 5 and have now publifhed 
 
 thofe
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 13 
 
 ' thofe my occafional thoughts with this 
 
 * hope, that tho' this be far from being a 
 c complete treatife on this fubjedt, or fuch 
 
 * as that every one may find what will juft 
 ' fit his child in it, yet it may give fome 
 ' fmall lights to thofe whofe concern for 
 e their dear little ones makes them fo irre- 
 ' gularly bold, that they dare venture to 
 c confult their own reafon in the education 
 ( of their children, rather than wholly to 
 
 * rely on old cuftom.' 
 
 In all well-regulated ftates, the two prin- 
 cipal points in view in the education of 
 youth, ought to be, firft, to make them 
 good men, good members of the univer- 
 fal fociety of mankind ; and in the next 
 place to frame their minds in fuch a man- 
 ner, as to make them moft ufeful to that 
 fociety to which they more immediately 
 belong ; and to fhape their talents, in fuch 
 a'way, as will render them moftferviceable 
 to the fupport of that government, under 
 which they were born, and on the frrength 
 and vigour of which, the well-being of 
 every individual, in fome meafure de- 
 pends. If neither of thefe points are pro- 
 vided for in our fyftem, I cannot fee how 
 
 we
 
 i 4 BRITISH BOOK I t 
 we arc to expedt good men or good fub- 
 je<fts. Nay the contrary muft in general 
 be the confequence, for the mind of man 
 being adtive will necefiarily find itfelf em- 
 ployment ; if our youth are not trained 
 in the right way, they will probably go- 
 Wrong ; if they are not taught to do good, 
 they will be likely to commit evil. 
 
 This point is fo obvious, that it might 
 feem unneceflary to ' fupport it either by 
 reafon or authority j and yet fo little atten- 
 tion has been paid to it, that it may not 
 be wholly ufelefs to quote the fentiments 
 of a man upon this head, who is allowed 
 to have been poflefled of the deepeft pene- 
 tration *. In his epiftle dedicatory to his 
 treatife on education, he has the following 
 paffages. ' I my felf have been confulted of 
 s late by fo many, who profefs themfelves 
 c at a lofs how to breed their children, and 
 
 * the early corruption of youth is now 
 
 * become fo general a complaint, that 
 
 * he cannot be thought wholly imper- 
 ' tinent, who brings the confederation 
 ' of this matter on the ftage, and offers 
 c fome thing, if it be but to excite others, 
 
 * Mr. Locke. 
 
 or
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. j$ 
 
 ' or afford matter of correction: for er- 
 1 rors in education mould be lefs indulged 
 ' than any. Thefe, like faults in the firft 
 f concoction, that are never mended in 
 ' the fecond, or third, carry their after- 
 
 * wards incorrigible taint with them, 
 
 * through all the parts and ftations of life. 
 
 e The well-educating of their children 
 1 is fo much the duty and concern of pa- 
 c rents, and the welfare and profperity of 
 e the nation fo much depend on it, that 
 ' I would have every one lay it ferioufly 
 ' to heart; and after having well examined 
 ' and diftinguifhed what fancy, cuftom, or 
 ' reafon advifes in the cafe, fet his helping 
 ' hand to promote every where that way 
 ' of training up youth, with regard to their 
 
 * feveral conditions, which is the eafieft, 
 c fhorteftj and likelieft to produce virtuous, 
 c ufeful, and able men in their diftind: 
 ' callings ; tho' that moft to be taken 
 c care of is the gentleman's calling. For 
 e if thofe of that rank are by their educa- 
 ' tion once fet right, they will quickly 
 
 * bring all the reft into order.' 
 
 In his treatife on education he fays, * I 
 ' wifh, that thofe who complain of the 
 
 ' great
 
 16 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 e great decay of chriftian piety and virtue 
 c every where, and of learning-acquired 
 ' improvements in the gentry of this ge- 
 
 * neration, would confider how to retrieve 
 
 * them in the next. This I am fure, that 
 ' if the foundation of it be not laid in the 
 ' education and principling of the youth, 
 ' all other endeavours will be vain. And 
 c if the innocence, fobriety, and induflry 
 
 * of thofe who are coming up, be not 
 c taken care of and preferved, it will be 
 
 * ridiculous to expect, that thofe who are 
 c to fucceed next on the ftage, mould 
 c abound in that virtue, ability, and learn- 
 
 * ing, which has hitherto made England 
 
 * confiderable in the world/ 
 
 From thefe, and many other pafTages 
 to the fame effect, it is eafy to fee what his 
 opinion was of our method of training 
 youth, and how neceflary he judged an 
 alteration to be. Let us therefore with 
 candour and impartiality examine our 
 fyftem of education, as it now ftands : 
 I am much deceived if it will appear cal- 
 culated to promote knowlege and virtue ; 
 on the contrary I believe, it will be found 
 to be the true fource of all our follies, 
 i vices,
 
 CH'AP.H. EDUCATION. 17 
 
 vices, ignorance and falfe tafte. Should 
 it prove fo, this advantage will refult from 
 the enquiry, that in the courfe of it, pro- 
 per remedies will fuggeft themfelves as the 
 errors appear, and upon a right applica- 
 tion they cannot fail of effecting a cure. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Our prefent Syftem of Education conjidered. 
 'HEN a boy can readEnglifli with 
 
 w 
 
 tolerable fluency, which is gene- 
 rally about the age of feven or eight years, 
 he is put to fchool to learn Latin and 
 Greek ; where, feven years are employ- 
 ed in acquiring but a moderate fkill in 
 thofe languages. At the age of fifteen or 
 thereabouts, he is removed to one of the 
 universities, where he pafTes four years 
 more in procuring a more competent know- 
 ledge of Greek and Latin, in learning the 
 rudiments of logick, natural philoibphy, 
 aftronomy, mctaphyficks, and the heathen 
 morality. At the age of nineteen or twenty 
 a degree in the arts is taken, and here 
 ends the education of a gentleman. 
 
 When education is faid to be finimed, 
 C one 
 
 1
 
 iS BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 one would imagine that the perfon is qua- 
 lified immediately to enter upon his part 
 on the great ftage of life ; and yet it would 
 be hard to fay what one duty of fociety, 
 or what one office as a citizen, he is qua- 
 lified to difcharge, or fuftain, after his 
 clofe application of fo many years. It 
 may be aiked with Seneca, what fruits 
 are to be expected, * ' from a vain often- 
 
 * tationofthe politer fludies, and unavail- 
 ' ing learning ? Whofe errors will they di- 
 
 * minim ? whofe paffions will they re- 
 ' ftrain ? whom will they make more brave, 
 
 * more juft, more liberal ?' 
 
 The ill effects of this method are de- 
 fcribed by Milton in fuch nervous and con- 
 cife terms, that I mall not ftand in need 
 of any apology with the reader for pre- 
 fenting him with his obfervations upon 
 this/occafion, inftead of my own. 
 
 * As for the ufual method of teaching 
 1 arts, I deem it to be an old error of uni- 
 
 * verfities, not yet well recovered from the 
 1 fcholaftickgrolTnefs of barbarous ages, that 
 
 * Ex ftudiorum liberalium van a oftentatione, etnihil 
 fanantibus literis ? Cujus ilia errores minuent ? cujus cu- 
 piditates prement ? quern fortiorem, t^uem juftiorem, 
 quern iibftraliorem facient ? 
 
 ' inftead
 
 CHAP. I.' EDUCATION. 19 
 
 * inftead of beginning with arts moft eafy, 
 ' and thofe be fuch as are moft obvious to the 
 ' fenfe, they prefent their young unmatri- 
 ' culated novices at firft coming with the 
 c moft intellective ab {tractions of logick and 
 
 * metaphylicks : fo that they having but 
 
 * newly left thofe grammatic flats and fhal- 
 lows, where they ftuck unreafonably, 
 c to learn a few words, with lamentable 
 ' conftruclion, and now on the fudden 
 
 * tranfported under another climate, to be 
 c tofled and turmoiled with their unbal- 
 c lafted wits in fathomlefs and unquiet 
 
 * deeps of controverfy, do for the moft 
 e P art g r ow into hatred and contempt of 
 
 * learning, mocked and deluded all this 
 c while with ragged notions and babble* 
 c ments, while they expected worthy and 
 ' delightful knowlege. Till poverty or 
 1 youthful years call them importunately 
 f their feveral ways,, and haften them, 
 
 * with the fway of friends, either to an 
 c ambitious and mercenary, or ignorantly 
 ' zealous divinity. Some allured to the 
 ' trade of law, grounding their purpofes, 
 ' not on the prudent and heavenly con- 
 1 templation of juftice and equity (which 
 
 C 2 * was
 
 co BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' was never taught them) but on the pro- 
 f mifing and pleafing thoughts of litigious 
 ' terms, fat contentions, and flowing fees. 
 4 Others betake them to ftate affairs, with 
 ' fouls fo unprincipled in virtue, and true 
 * generous breeding, that flattery and court 
 ' mifts, and tyrannous aphorifms appear 
 ' to them the higheft points of wifdom ; 
 c inftilling their barren hearts with a con- 
 c fcientious flavery, if, as I rather think, 
 c it be not feigned. Others, laftly, of a 
 c more delicious and airy fpirit, retire 
 c themfelves, knowing no better, to the 
 ' enjoyments of eafe and luxury, living 
 ' out their da"ys in feaft and jollity j which 
 ' indeed is the wifeft and fafeft courfe of 
 ' all thefe, unlefs they were with more 
 c integrity undertaken. And thefe are the 
 ' fruits of mifpcnding our prime youth in 
 e the fchools and univerfities as we do, 
 c either in learning meer words, or fuch 
 * things chiefly as were better unlearnt.' 
 
 Mr. Locke, in delivering his fentiments 
 on the fame fubjecl, perfectly agrees with 
 Milton. In fpeaking of the education of 
 a gentleman, he fays, ' Since it cannot be 
 
 hoped he fhould have time and ftrength 
 
 1 to
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 21 
 
 - c to learn all things, moft pains mould be 
 ' taken about that which is moft necef- 
 /fary; and that principally looked after, 
 ' which will be of moft and frequenteft 
 ' ufe to him in the world. 
 
 * Seneca complains of the contrary prac- 
 c tice in his time ; and yet the Burgerf- 
 e dicius's and the Scheiblers did not fwarm 
 ' in thofe days, as they do now in thefe. 
 ' What would he have thought, if he had 
 ' lived now, when the tutors think it their 
 
 * great bufinefs to fill the fludies and heads 
 c of their pupils with fuch authors as 
 c thefe ? He would have had much more 
 
 * reafon to fay, as he does, Non vitas fed 
 c fcholae difcimus, We learn not to live, 
 
 * but to difpute j and our education fits us 
 ' rather for the univerfities,than the world. 
 
 * But it is no wonder if thofe who make 
 the famion, fuit it to what they have, 
 c and not what their pupils want. The 
 ' famion being once eftablifhed, who can 
 
 * think it ftrange, that, in this, as well as 
 4 in all other things, it mould prevail ? 
 4 and that the greateil part of thofe, who 
 e find their account in an eafy fubmiflion 
 
 * to it, mould be ready to cry out he- 
 
 C 3 < refy,
 
 TZ BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' refy, when any one departs from it ? 
 
 * 'Tis neverthelefs matter of aftonimment, 
 ' that men of quality and parts, mould 
 1 fuffer themfelves to be fo far mifled by 
 ' cuflom and implicit faith. Reafon, if 
 ' confulted with, would advife, that their 
 ' children's time ihould be fpent in ac- 
 ' quiring what might be ufeful to them, 
 c when they come to be men, rather than 
 c to have their heads fluffed with a deal 
 
 * of trafh, a great part whereof they ufual- 
 
 * ly never do ('tis certain they never need 
 
 * to) think on again as long as they live ; 
 ' and fo much of it as does flick to them, 
 
 * they are only the worfe for. 
 
 ' This is fo well known, that I appeal 
 
 * to parents themfelves, who have been at 
 4 coft to have their young heirs taught it, 
 4 whether it be not ridiculous for their 
 
 * fons to have any tincture of that fort of 
 4 learning, when they come abroad into 
 
 * the world ; whether any appearance of 
 
 * it would not leffen and difgrace them in 
 ' company ? And that certainly mufl be 
 
 * an admirable acquifition, and deferves 
 ' well to make a part in education, which 
 
 * men are afhamed of, where they are 
 
 moft
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 23 
 
 * mofl concerned to mew their parts and 
 c breeding.' 
 
 It is evident that both thefe great men 
 thought our method of education was pro- 
 ductive of evil, inftead of good j of mifchief 
 to mankind, inflead of benefit. But a- 
 mongft fuch -as have received no ill taint 
 from it, I believe it will be allowed by 
 much the greater part, that they never 
 find either profit or pleafure from it in the 
 reft of their lives. 
 
 Upon their entrance into the world, a 
 very fhort experience will convince them 
 that they cannot apply what they have 
 been learning to any ufeful purpofe j that 
 to fucceed in life they mufh enter upon 
 entire new ftudies, and that they muft 
 even have the double labour of unlearn- 
 ing many things which they before 
 thought the perfection of human know- 
 lege. Their Greek and Latin authors, their 
 books of logick and metaphyficks, &c. are 
 laid afide, and in a few years all the traces 
 of their early acquirements, of fo many 
 years pains and labour, arc wholly oblite- 
 rated. Is it not a lamentable thing to think 
 that the prime of life hath thus been loft, 
 C 4 that
 
 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 that a fertile foil hath thus been tilled, and 
 manured, at great pains and coft, and fuch 
 feed fown as will never produce a valuable 
 Crop ? Or is there reafon to wonder, that 
 the richnefs of the foil mould wafte itfelf 
 in a luxuriance of weeds ? Of the few, 
 who, from a love to the arts in which they 
 have been trained, would ftill keep them 
 alive in their memories, and difplay their 
 talents to the world, much the greater 
 part ferve only to increafe the number of 
 bad verfifiers, miferable efTay writers, and 
 minute philofophers. The fludious and 
 contemplative minds indeed may be fur- 
 nimed with matter to employ their leifure 
 hours in innocent amufements, fo that 
 tfyey may not be hurtful members of fo- 
 ciety, however ufelefs ; and this perhaps 
 is the greateft benefit which the publick 
 derives from it. The divine, the lawyer, 
 and the phyfician, may convert thefe ru- 
 diments of fcience to their own advantage 
 in their feveral profemons, but the gentle- 
 man finding no immediate ufe for them, 
 neglects, and of courfe foon forgets them. 
 Thus the education of a gentleman, which 
 is of all ethers the mod important to the 
 
 publick,
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 25 
 
 publick, is not at all provided for. Were 
 it" defective in all other arts and profef- 
 lions, tho' the grievance would be felt, it 
 might be attended with no danger to the 
 (rate. But gentlemen, born to be legi- 
 ilators, to be the bulwarks of our confti- 
 tution, to fill up ports which require wif- 
 dom, conduct, and the moil improved 
 abilities, to animate and give motion to 
 the whole body of the people, to be an 
 example and model to all, the fountain 
 of manners and fource of principles ; if 
 their education be defective, or bad, the 
 whole conftitution is affected by it, the 
 difeafe has attacked the vitals, and muft 
 either be removed, or inevitable dhTolu- 
 tion muft follow. 
 
 To remedy this, two eminent phyfkians 
 have prefcribed very oppoiite courfes. The 
 firft ftrikes at the root of the difeafe, which 
 he would endeavour wholly to eradi- 
 cate ; but as it was before obferved, his 
 medicines are too powerful in their opera- 
 tion, for the ftrength of the patient's con- 
 ftitution. The other feems to think the 
 cafe defperate, and has therefore only di- 
 rected a coarfe of lenitives, which may 
 
 give
 
 26 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 give cafe to, and prolong the life of the 
 patient, tho' not effect a cure. Milton's 
 fcheme feems better calculated for the 
 times of the Spartan republick, and old 
 Rome, than for the prefent age : however 
 beautiful it may look in theory, it would 
 be found impracticable in the trial j or 
 cou'd it be reduced to practice, it muft 
 necefTarily change our form of govern- 
 ment into a republick. Locke on the 
 other fide feems to defpair of any effectual 
 reformation in the publick eftablifhed 
 fyflem ; he has therefore turned his whole 
 thoughts towards private education. To 
 this there are innumerable objections, but 
 particularly in our conftitution, as that 
 method is the beft calculated for defpotick 
 ftates, and if it became general, wou'd be 
 the fureft means to eftablifh arbitrary 
 power. An evil of all others the moft to 
 be dreaded by a free people. 
 
 But fure between thefe two extremes, 
 a medium may be found which will effect-* 
 ually anfwer all the ends propofed. Sup- 
 pofe inftead of a total fubverfion, an at- 
 tempt were made to correct the errors in 
 the prefent fyflem, to fupply fome de- 
 2 fects,
 
 CHAP. "II, EDUCATION. 27 
 
 feels, and extend and enlarge the whole : 
 perhaps in purfuing this method, an eafy 
 and practicable plan might be ftruck out, 
 which would exceed all that have been 
 hitherto eftablifhed in any part of the 
 world. 
 
 The evils of our prefent mode of edu- 
 cation do not fo much arife from it's faults, 
 as from it's defects ; from what it does, as 
 from what it leaves undone; from it's im- 
 perfectiuns fo far as it goes, as from it's 
 flopping fhort at an improper time, when 
 there is moft occafion for it's influence. 
 The end feems to be forgot, and the 
 means are made the end. The rudiments 
 of the arts are taught, as if they were de- 
 fireable only for their own fakes, but their 
 ufes for the purpofes of life are never 
 pointed out. Seneca in fpeaking upon this 
 fubjecl:, afks, -j- * For what reafon is it 
 4 that we train our children up in the fludy 
 * of the arts and fciences ? It is not becaufe 
 
 f Quare ergo liberalibus ftudiis filios erudimus ? Non 
 quia virtutem dare poflunt ; fed quia animum ad ac- 
 cipiendam virtutem prjeparant ; quemadmodum prima 
 ilia, ut antiqui vocabant, literatura per quam pueris 
 elementa traduntur, non docct liberties artes, fed mox 
 prsecipiendis -locum parat ; fie liberates artes non per- 
 ducunt animum ad virtutem, fed expedient. ' 
 
 ' they
 
 ) I T / 
 28 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' they can infpire virtue, but becaufc they 
 ' prepare the mind fork's reception. Juft 
 
 * as the rudiments of thofe, from which 
 
 * boys learn their firfl principles,, do not 
 ' directly teach the liberal arts, but pre- 
 ' pare the way for their reception, fo the 
 ' liberal arts themfelves do not directly 
 ' lead the mind to virtue, but give it a 
 c right dilpofition for it/ 
 
 Should a mailer, after having inflructed 
 his pupil in the rules of grammar, leave 
 him to make his way thro' the clafficks, 
 as well as he could, without affifting him, 
 in his progrefs, and pointing out to him 
 the ufe and application of thofe rules as he 
 went along, could he ever with reafon ex- 
 pect to find him a good fcholar ? And 
 (hall lefs care and pains be thought fuffi- 
 cient to make a good man ? Is it caller 
 after having learned the rudiments of 
 knowlege, and morality, for a man J:o 
 guide himfelf right in the labyrinths of 
 wifdom, and fleer, unpiloted, a Heady 
 courfe of virtue, through the fhoals, the 
 rocks, the qnickfands of life, and in a vef* 
 fel without bailaft, ftand the fwelling tides 
 
 of
 
 CHAP.!!. EDUCATION. 29 
 
 of corruption, and the ftorms ofpaffion, 
 than to underiland a Greek or Roman au- 
 thor ? And yet abfurd as it may feem, 
 iiich is our practice. At the very junc- 
 ture, when the ufes of all he has been 
 reading ought to be pointed out to him 
 with the utmoft care and attention, in or- 
 der to encourage him to go on in his 
 courfe, to reap the fruit of his toils j at 
 that moft critical time of life, when the 
 paffions begin to be too flrong for reafon, 
 even when guarded to the utmoft, is a 
 young gentleman left to himfelf without 
 a guide, without affiftance, to follow the 
 bent of his inclinations. Is it any wonder that 
 they fhould lead him away from a dry and 
 laborious courfe of fludy, in which he had 
 ever proceeded with reluctance and dif- 
 guft ? Is it any wonder that they mould 
 immediately plunge him into a gulph of 
 pleafure, from which he may never more 
 emerge ? 
 
 Is it not a fact, that after the age of 
 twenty or thereabouts, a gentleman, tho* 
 ever fo defirous to finifh his education, 
 cannot find the means of doing it in Eng- 
 land ? And has not this reduced all parents, 
 
 who
 
 36 BRITISH Book t 
 who wifh to fee their fons accomplifhed, 
 to the neceffity of fending them either to 
 foreign academies, or to travel ? Both 
 which have been attended with the worft 
 confequences. Thofe academies are in 
 countries which differ widely from ours, 
 both in religious and civil mftitutions 5 
 nor will it appear improbable, that their 
 principles in both may be much corrupted, 
 when it is confidered what little knowlege 
 of their own religion and government they 
 carry with them abroad. It is no wonder, 
 when we reflect on the places where they 
 pafs the firft parts of their rational life, 
 and the tutors from whom they receive the 
 firft knowlege of things inftead of words, 
 that fo many mould return confirmed re- 
 publicans. And fo many others, captivated 
 by the charms, and outward appearances 
 of the courts abroad, mould entertain too 
 favourable notions of monarchy. Their 
 religion indeed will be in no great danger 
 of being changed, as there is not much 
 temptation to it j but as they carried but 
 little abroad with them, there is a great 
 hazard of their lofing that little, and re- 
 turning without any. And this perhaps 
 
 may
 
 CHAP.II. EDUCATION. 31 
 
 may be found not the mod unfruitful 
 fource of infidelity. 
 
 They who at that time of day are fent 
 to travel, are yet in a more deplorable fitu- 
 ation. * 'To put them out of their parents 
 
 * view, at a great diflance, under a gover- 
 
 * nour, when they think themfelves to be 
 c too much men to be governed by others, 
 
 * and yet have not prudence and experi- 
 c ence enough to govern themfelves, what 
 1 is it but to expofe them to all the great- 
 c eft dangers of their whole life, when 
 ' they have the leaft fence or guard againft 
 ' them ? 'Till that boiling boifterous part 
 ' of life comes in, it may be hoped the 
 
 * tutor may have fome authority : neither 
 
 * the ftubbornefs of age, nor the tempta- 
 ' tion or example of others, can take him 
 ' from his tutor's conduct 'till fifteen or 
 c fixteen : but then, when he begins to 
 ' corfort himfelf with men, and thinks 
 
 * himfelf one > when he comes to relifli, 
 ' and pride himfelf in manly vices, and 
 ' thinks it a (harne to be any longer under 
 
 * the conduct and controul of another, 
 
 * what can be hoped from even the mojjt 
 
 * Locke. 
 
 ' careful
 
 32 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 ' careful and difcreet governour, when 
 c neither he has power to compel, nor his 
 
 * pupil a difpofition to be pei fuaded ; but 
 c on the contrary has the advice of warm 
 c blood, and prevailing famion, to hearken 
 c to the temptations of his companions, juft 
 c as wife as himfelf, rather than to the 
 
 * perfuafions of his tutor, who is now look- 
 e ed on as the enemy to his freedom ? And 
 ' when is a man fo like to mifcarry, as 
 c when at the fame time he is both raw 
 ' and unruly ? 
 
 c This is the feafon of all his life that 
 c mofl requires the eye and authority of 
 
 * his parents and friends to govern it. 
 ' The flexiblenefs of the former part of a 
 e man's age, not yet grown up to be head- 
 
 * ftrong, makes it more governable and 
 ' fafe $ and in the after-part, reafon and 
 ' forefight begin a little to take place, and 
 
 * mind a man of his fafety and improvc- 
 
 * ment/ 
 
 If this picture be juft, if this reafon ing 
 be right, (hall we have any caufe to wonder 
 at the merchandife which thofs young 
 adventurers bring back ?. What indeed can 
 l^e expected from them but an importation
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 33 
 
 of all the follies, fopperies, vices, and lux- 
 uries of the feveral countries thro* which 
 they have pafled. Thefe are to be found 
 in the ftreets, and on the high-ways j and 
 to be picked up riding poft ; but to col- 
 lect valuable ftores of knowlege, and to 
 treafure up wife obfervations, demands the 
 fkill and experience of more advanced 
 years j it requires much longer refidence, 
 clofe attention, and painful refearches into 
 places far from the common road, and 
 vulgar haunts of men. 
 
 It is evident that there can be no greater 
 evil than the fending our youth abroad at 
 fo improper and dangerous a feafon. This 
 evil arifes from the fad alternative of being 
 either obliged to do fo, or of entering 
 them too foon at home into the bufinefs 
 of life. One or the other muft be done 
 as things are now circumflanced, or they 
 muft remain for fome years in a ftate of 
 idlenefs and inaction. Yet the remedy 
 for this is not hard to be found. But be- 
 fore I fpeak to that point, it will be pro- 
 per to take a more exact view of the pre- 
 vious part of education, as the finishing 
 D muft
 
 34 BRITISH BOOK L 
 
 muft in a great meafure depend upon the 
 preparation. 
 
 It has been faid before, that the evils of 
 our prefent fyftem do not fo much arife 
 from it's faults, as from it's defects, from 
 what it does, as from what it omits to do. 
 Indeed there is nothing taught in our 
 fchools and univerfities either improper 
 or unbecoming a gentleman to know -, on 
 the contrary, whatever he learns there, if 
 it be properly applied, he will find both 
 ufeful and ornamental to him in whatever 
 fituation of life he may afterwards be 
 placed. That thefe inductions feldom 
 or never anfwer this end, is owing partly 
 to the manner in which they are given, 
 and partly to an entire omiffion or neglect 
 of fbme fhidies which are eflentially ne- 
 ceffary to render the others ufeful, as well 
 as ornamental. 
 
 In order to prove this, it will be necef- 
 fary to lay down fome principles relative 
 to education, and then to try our fyftem 
 by thofe principles. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP.!!!. EDUCATION. 35 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of the principles upon which a fyflem of 
 education Jhould be founded. 
 
 * ' f | ^ H E laws of education are the 
 J, firft impreffions we receive; and 
 
 ' as they prepare us for civil life, each par- 
 ' ticular family ought to be governed pur- 
 4 fuant to the plan of the great family 
 ' which comprehends them all. If the 
 c people in general have a principle, their* 
 * conftituent parts, that is, the feveral fa- 
 f milies, will have one alfo.' 
 
 Hence it follows, that in every flate it 
 mould be a fundamental maxim, firft, that 
 the education of youth mould be particu- 
 larly formed and adapted to the nature and 
 end of it r s government. Secondly, that 
 the principle by which the whole com- 
 munity is fupported, ought to be the moft 
 ftrongly inculcated on the minds of every 
 individual. Where thefe rules are not ob- 
 ferved, no ftate can flourim, or even fubfift 
 for any length of time. The beft educa- 
 
 *' Spirit of laws. 
 
 D 2 tion
 
 36 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 tion upon any other principles may make 
 good men, but it cannot make good citi- 
 zens ; it may make them virtuous and 
 wife, but it cannot make them ufeful 
 members of that particular fociety. 
 
 Every kind of government hath it's na- 
 ture, it's end, and it's principle. It's na- 
 ture is it's particular conflitution or con- 
 jftruftion to anfwer fome end j it's end is 
 that which is fought after by fuch confli- 
 tution ; and it's principle is the means of 
 compaffing lhat end. From this view it 
 is evident, that the principle is the mofl 
 effential part/; is the foul of government, 
 which puts it into motion, which gives it 
 life and action. The beft conflitution in 
 the world, and framed to the befl end, 
 without a principle, is nothing but a name, 
 and without a right one, muft necefTarily 
 be deftroyed ; for if the principle be 
 wrong, a different end will be purfued 
 than what was the obje<5t of it's inflitution. 
 It follows alfo, that the principle mould be 
 fuited to the end, not only in it's nature, 
 but in it's degree of power, and flrength ; 
 for fo far as it falls fhort of the eiad, fo far 
 is the government weak and defective. 
 
 The
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. ,37 
 
 The natural order of enquiry therefore 
 will be, whether we have a principle, whe- 
 ther this principle be fuited to the nature 
 of our government, whether it be offeree 
 enough to anfwer the end, and whether 
 this principle be fufficiently inculcated by 
 education. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of the different principles of the different 
 governments known in the world. 
 . 
 
 AL L the different forms of govern- 
 ment known in the world, may be 
 reduced to three fpecies j the republican, 
 monarchical, and defpotick. To thefe 
 the celebrated Montefquieu has annexed 
 three principles. To the republican, vir- 
 tue ; to the monarchical, honour ; to the 
 defpotick, fear. In the firfl and the laft 
 of thefe he has inconteflibly proved, that 
 either thefe muft be the principles, or the 
 government could not fubfift. But in 
 what relates to the monarchical, he has 
 not made ufeof that clearnefs and precifion 
 which appear fo evidently in the reft of his 
 D 3 work.
 
 3 8 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 work. As he feems to have formed his 
 idea of monarchy intirely from that, under 
 which he was born, fo he has laid down 
 rules in general for it, from the particular 
 practice of that (late. He hath accurately 
 diftinguifhed between the two republican 
 forms, the ariftocracy and democracy, and 
 the various manner in which the principle 
 is to operate in thofe different forms ; nor 
 was there lefs reafon to diftSnguifli between 
 the different forms of monarchy, the lefs 
 limited approaching to the defpotick, and 
 the more limited bordering upon the re- 
 publican. It will not require much pe- 
 netration to difcover,that fuch a monarchy 
 as that of England cannot fubfift upon his 
 principle of honour. To convince an 
 Englimman of this, there needs only to 
 prefent him with part of the defcription 
 which he himfelf gives of the principle. 
 
 By the laws of honour he fays, f That 
 c the actions of men are not judged as 
 ' good, but as finning ; not as juft, but as 
 ' great; not as reafonable, but extraor- 
 ' dinary. 
 
 f To this whirnfical honour it is owing 
 ' that the virtues are only juft what it 
 
 * pleafes,
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 39 
 
 * pleafes, and as it pleafes ; it adds rules 
 ' of it's own invention to every thing 
 c prefcribed to us ; it extends or limits 
 ' our duties according to it's own fan- 
 
 * cy, whether they proceed from religion, 
 
 * politicks, or morality. There is nothing 
 c fo ftrongly inculcated in monarchies, by 
 ' the laws, by religion, and honour, as 
 c fubmiffion to the prince's will.' 
 
 What are the necefTary confluences 
 of fuch a principle ? Montefquieu himfelf 
 has defcribed them in glaring colours in 
 another place. ' Ambition joined to idle- 
 ' nefs, and bafenefs to pride ; a defire of 
 4 obtaining riches without labour, and an 
 f aver lion to truth ; flattery, treafon, per- 
 
 * fidy, violation of engagements, contempt 
 ' of civil duties, fear of the prince's virtue, 
 
 * hope from his weaknefs, but above all, 
 ' a perpetual ridicule caft upon virtue.' 
 
 Far, far from Britain be for ever kept this 
 blafting principle, and may our enemies, 
 whiift they continue fuch, cherifh it in 
 their bofoms. 
 
 As the profefTed intention of this author, 
 was to treat accurately of all the various 
 governments known in the world, and 
 D 4 their 
 

 
 40 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 their feveral principles, it is evident that 
 he has been defe<5tive in the execution of 
 one part of his defign. For tho' from his 
 own defcriptions, he found that our form 
 of government would not come exactly 
 under any of the heads into which he dif- 
 tinguifhed them ; tho' he has allotted a 
 feparate chapter to treat of our conftitution 
 as a diftinct fpecies from any other ; yet 
 he has not thought proper to fay one fyl- 
 lable about the principle, by which it may 
 be prefer ved, but has contented himfelf 
 with foretelling the means by which it 
 maybe deftroyed. Whether this was the 
 effect of negligence or deiigu, or whether 
 he durft not deliver his fentiments freely 
 upon that head, from the reftraints of po- 
 licy and religion, muft be left to con- 
 jecture. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 'That our conjlitution can not befupported by 
 any ofthefe three principles y tho they may 
 beallufefultolt. 
 
 ' ' i W *J t- 
 
 AS our conftitution is made up of a 
 due mixture of the three fpecies of 
 government, being partly monarchical, 
 
 partly
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 41 
 
 partly republican, and partly abfolute, 
 from the union of thofe two, it follows 
 that no particular principle belonging to 
 any of thofe will be fufficient to aniwer 
 it's end. But all the three may be em- 
 ployed in it to advantage. 
 
 The bulk of the people mould be bred 
 up to fear the laws, which mould be con- 
 fidered as vefted with defpotick power. 
 The legiflative or republican part mould 
 have virtue for it's objeft, and the princi- 
 ple of honour may be employed by the 
 executive or royal authority with fuccefs. 
 By honour I do not mean here that baflard 
 kind defcribed above, (which was fubfti- 
 tuted by princes really poffefled of defpo- 
 tick power, tho' mafked under the title of 
 monarchy, in the room of fear, as a more 
 ufeful and active inftrument to promote 
 their ambitious views) but that genuine 
 and refined fort, arifing from a love of 
 fame, and the rewards attending it; which 
 often flood in the place of virtue in re- 
 publicks. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 B R I r I S H BOOK I. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 ncccflity of another principle to re- 
 gulate thefe. 
 
 HEN three different principles 
 acl: in one ftate, in which there is 
 nofubordination, or necefTary dependance 
 of the one on the other, as it would be ex- 
 treamly difficult to confine them within 
 their due bounds, fo as that no one mould 
 become predominant ; and as fuch a pre- 
 dominance of any one of thefe over the 
 other muft neceffarily bring about a change 
 in the constitution, it were to be wimed 
 that a principle of fuperior force to any of 
 thefe could be found out, whofe office it 
 Should be to preferve the balance between 
 the others, to re/train them within their 
 due limits, and confine them to their pro- 
 per objects. Nor have we far to feek for 
 fuch a principle. It can be no other than 
 RELIGION. 
 
 To the great power and energy of this 
 
 principle, Montefquieu himfelf has borne 
 
 teftimonyj for though he has never 
 
 3 never
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 43 
 mentioned it as a neceffary one ^o any 
 of the forms of government which he 
 treats of, yet he occafionally fays in a 
 part of his work, not profeffedly upon that 
 point, that c The principles of chriftianity 
 deeply engraved on the heart, would be 
 c infinitely more powerful than the falfe 
 c honour of monarchies, than the humane 
 c virtues of republicks, or the fervile fear 
 of defpotick ftates. 
 
 Hence it is evident he thought that the 
 principle of true religion was much ftronger 
 than the force of all the others together ; 
 and confequently that a ftate founded upon 
 this principle muft be fixed upon the mofl 
 folid and durable bafts. Hence alfo we 
 may trace the reafon of his filence upon 
 that head in treating of the Britim confti- 
 tution ; for as he clearly faw that it could 
 be fupported by no other principle but 
 that of religion, and that the religion mufl 
 be fuited to the nature of our government, 
 he mufl of neceflity have given the pre- 
 ference, to it in it's reformed ftate, and 
 this would have been a point of too much 
 danger for a fubject of France, and a Ro- 
 man catholick by profcffion, to meddle 
 
 with.
 
 44 B R in S H BOOK I. 
 
 with. This conjecture appears the more 
 probable, when we fee that this important 
 article feems accidentally and carelefsly 
 dropped in a chapter, whofe title is, c Ano- 
 c ther of Mr. Bayle's paradoxes.' 
 
 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of the power and extent of this principle. 
 
 AS the different parts of which our 
 conftitution is compofed, of courfe 
 introduced different principles, the fame 
 policy which pointed out the neceffity of 
 a head to govern the whole flate, mewed 
 alfo the neceffity of a regulating principle} 
 and the fame analogy will difcover to us, 
 that the power of this principle over the 
 others, mould be of the fame nature and 
 extent as the power of the monarch over 
 the different members of which the flate 
 is compofed. It mould be rather co- 
 ercive, than adlive ; rather direct, than 
 govern j reftrain, than impel. Whilfl it 
 pretends to no more, it will give no um- 
 brage to a free people ; and the three 
 principles of virtue,- fear, and honour, 
 
 may
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 45 
 
 may be all exercifed with more force and 
 advantage, under -the guidance and in- 
 fluence of fuch a principle, as they will 
 be confined to due bounds, and directed 
 to proper ends. From all which it mani- 
 feftly appears, that this principle above 
 all others mould be chiefly inculcated by 
 education. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of the principle of virtue. 
 
 IT is eafy to fee that virtue, in point of 
 order, dignity, and ufe, is the fore- 
 moft of the three other principles. It is 
 alfo evident, that it is the moft fuited to 
 the nature of our government, in as much 
 as that partakes more of the republican 
 than any other form. If therefore we 
 want to know how to cultivate this noble 
 and neceffary principle, let us look into 
 the methods pradlifed by thofe antient 
 and wife republicks of Greece, and Rome, 
 where it flourished in it's higheft degree. 
 This enquiry aifo may perhaps lead us into 
 the beft manner of propagating religion 
 too ; for virtue and religion are nearly al- 
 lied,
 
 46 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 lied, they give and receive mutual aids, 
 and the one naturally prepares the mind 
 for the other. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 The methods taken in antient education t9 
 fromote and encourage virtue. 
 
 THE great republicks of Athens 
 and Rome, like us, had liberty 
 for their object. Liberty could not exiffc 
 without virtue, nor be preferved without 
 wifdom. Knowlege of all human affairs 
 joyned with virtue, was necefTary to the 
 internal polity, order, and tranquillity of 
 the ftate : fortitude, the refult of .virtue, 
 joined with policy, was necefTary to pre- 
 ferve it from external violence. Nor was 
 the mere pofTeflion of wifdom and know- 
 lege fufficient in their flatefmen, no more 
 than courage without {kill in their citi- 
 zens. As their councils were the refult 
 of publick debates, wifdom, and policy, 
 to have their due effects, muftbe difplay- 
 ed and communicated to others -, the wifefl 
 councellor in fuch a ftate, without a power 
 and facility of delivering his fentiments, 
 
 could
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 47 
 
 could be of little ufe to the publick. Such 
 communication could be made no other 
 way but by language; a complete knoWlege 
 of that was therefore abfolutely necefTary. 
 But as the mere communication alone 
 might not always produce the effect of 
 bringing others into the fame way of 
 thinking, it was necelTary that this com- 
 munication mould be made in a clear and 
 forcible manner, fo as to enlighten the 
 underftanding, and to make ftrong im- 
 preflions on the hearts of the hearers. To 
 do this,it was neceflary that their thoughts 
 and words fhould be ranged in due order, 
 and the whole delivered with proper tones 
 andgeflures. Or, in other words, the art 
 of oratory was eflential to thofe who 
 fpoke in publick. Hence we may trace 
 the principles upon which their fyftem of 
 education was built. Their end was li- 
 berty j liberty could not fubfift without 
 virtue, nor be maintained without wifdom 
 and knowlege; and wifdom and knowlege, 
 unlefs communicated with force and per- 
 fpicuity, were ufelefs to the ftate. But 
 as virtue is a painful renunciation of all 
 felfifh pafTions, and as wifdom and know- 
 lege
 
 48 B R I r I S H BOOK I. 
 
 lege with the art of perfuafion, are the 
 effects of laborious ftudy, application and " 
 practice, it was necelTary that men mould 
 be encouraged by rewards, and affifted by 
 inftrucftion in thofe difficult purfuits. Ac- 
 cordingly we find, that in the education 
 of their youth, after having taken care to 
 inflil flrongly the principle of virtue, their 
 chief attention was to inftrucl: them in the 
 moft accurate knowlege of their own 
 language, and to train them from their 
 childhood in the practice of oratory, as 
 the fure means to preferment in the ftate. 
 
 C H A P. X. 
 
 ^Thejludy of oratory necej/ary to us in every 
 point where it wasfo to the ant ie fits. 
 
 THere is not one point in which this 
 art was necelTary or ufeful to the 
 antients, wherein it is not equally fq to us. 
 J Nor was there any incitement to the 
 
 J Erant autem huic ftudio maxima, quae mine quoque 
 funt, propofita praemia, vel ad gratiam, vsl ad opes, vel a J 
 dignitatem. Ac ne illud quidem vere dici poteft, autpluu 
 caeteris artibus infervire, aut majore dele&atione, autfpe ube- ^ 
 riore, aut prxmiis ad perdifcendum amplioribus commoveri. 
 
 Cic. de oral. lib. i. 
 
 ftudy
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 49 
 ftudy of it, either of pleafure, profit, or 
 honour, which is not equally ftrong with 
 us. That the ufes are the fame in all points 
 common to us with them, may be feen by 
 only looking over the following elegant 
 and fummary view of them drawn up by 
 Cicero. 
 
 4 || Nothing feems to me to be more truly 
 * excellent, than to be able by the powers 
 
 || Neque vero mihiquidquam przftabilius videtur, quam 
 poiTe dicendo tenere hominum castus, mentes allicere, vo- 
 luntates impellere, quo velit, unde autem velit, deducere. 
 Hsec una res in omni libero populo. maximeque in paca- 
 tis, tranquillifque civitatibus praecipue Temper floruit, fem- 
 perque dominata eft. 
 
 Quid enim eft aut tarn admirabile, quam ex infinita 
 roultitudine hominum exiftere unum, qui id, quod omni- 
 bus natura fit datum, vel folus, vel cum paucis facere poffit? 
 Aut tam jucundum cognitu, atque auditu, quam fapien- 
 tibus fententiis, gravibufque verbis ornata oratio, & per- 
 polita ? Aut tam potens, tamque magu ficum, quam po- 
 puli motus, judicum religiones, fenatu^ gravitatem, unius 
 oratione convert! ? 
 
 Quid porro tam regium, tam liberale, tam munincum, 
 quam opem ferre fupplicibus, excitare affliclos, dare falu- 
 tern, liberarc periculis, retinere homines in civitate ? Quid 
 autem tam neceflarium quam tenere femper arma, quibus 
 vel teftus ipfe efle poffis, vel provocare imprcbos, vel tc 
 ulcifci laceftitus ? Age vero, ne femper forum, fubfrllia, 
 roftra, curiamque mediteie, quid efle poteft in otio aut 
 jucundius, aut inagis proprium humanitatis, quam fermo 
 /acetus ac nulla in re rudis ? Hoc enim uno praftamus vel 
 fljaxime feris, quod colloquimur inter nos, & quod ex- 
 frimere dicendo fenfa poflumus. Quamobrem quis hoc non 
 jure miretur, fummeque in eo elaborandum efle arbitretur, 
 uc, quo uno homines maxime beftiis praeftent, in hoc ho- 
 minibus ipfis antecellat ? Cic. de orac. lib. i. 
 
 E 'of
 
 50 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' of oratory to engage the attention of pub- 
 
 * lick aiTemblies, to win their good opi- 
 
 * nion, to drive their parfions where you 
 ' like, and bring them back at pleafure. 
 
 * This art alone has ever flourilhed, and 
 
 * bore the greateft fway in all free fr,ates> 
 ' especially in times of peace and tranquillity. 
 
 c For what can fo juftly excite our ad- 
 ' miration, as that one man of a million 
 
 - 
 
 ' mould either alone, or at leaft with but 
 c few others, be able to do that which 
 ' nature feems to have put into the power 
 ' of all men ? What can give fuch pleafure 
 *'both to our hearing and understanding, 
 
 * as a polite and elegant oration, filled with 
 
 * fentiments of wifdom, and expreifions of 
 ' dignity ? What can be an inftance of 
 ' fuch real power and magnificence, as 
 
 * that popular commotions, the fa.cred opi- 
 f nions of judges, and the majefty of 
 ' fenates, mould be fwayed by the oratory 
 ' of one fingle perfon. 
 
 ' Befides, what fo noble, fo generous, 
 e fo royal, as to relieve the fuppliant, to 
 ' raife the afflided, to be the dilpenier of 
 e fafety, the deliverer from danger, and 
 ' the means of preferving it's members to -a 
 
 * community ?
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 51 
 
 c community ? What fo neceflary as to be 
 
 * always prepared with arms, by which 
 
 * you may defend yourfelf, fet your ene- 
 
 * mies at defiance, or take vengeance when 
 c provoked ? But farther, that we may 
 
 * not always confine this point to the forum, 
 c the bench, the roftrum, or the fenate- 
 c houfe, what in the retirements of private 
 4 life can give more delight, or more pro- 
 
 * perly belong to civilized humanity, than 
 c pleafant and polifhed difcourfe free from 
 
 * all marks of rufticity ? For in this alone 
 e confifts our chief pre-eminence over 
 
 * brute-beafts, that we can converfe toge- 
 ' ther, and by fpeech exprefs the fenti- 
 
 * ments of our minds? 
 
 * Who then mail not think this an ob- 
 e jecl: juftly worth his admiration, and de- 
 
 * ferving his fevereft labours, to be able 
 
 * in that very circumftance by which men 
 c excel other animals, to excel all other 
 c men ?' 
 
 We as well as they have councils, 
 fenates, and affemblies of the people [by 
 their reprefentatives] where matters of as 
 great moment are deliberated, debated on, 
 and concluded -, where eloquence and ora- 
 E 2 tory
 
 52 E R I r 1 S H BOOK I. 
 
 tory have as ample fields in which to dif- 
 play themfelves, and where the * rewards 
 and honours paid to them are equal. Nor 
 is oratory lefs necefTary to us at the bar 
 than it was to them, tho' it's mode may 
 be fomcwhat altered by the difference of 
 our constitution, and it's powers confined 
 in narrower limits. 
 
 To expatiate upon thefe topicks would 
 be only lofs of time, as the point muft be 
 obvious to the moil common difcernment. 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 Tbat there is one point in which the ftudy of 
 oratory is effentially necejjary to us, but 
 
 ivas not at all fo to tie antients. 
 "> 
 
 THE article I mean is of the utmoft 
 importance to us j it is the bafis of 
 our conftitution, and pillar of our flate ; 
 it is that which gives our's the greateft ad- 
 vantage over all other forms of govern- 
 
 ~fl* If we look into the hiftory of England fmce the re- 
 formation, we {hall find that nioft perfons have made their 
 way to the head of affairs, and got into the higheft employ- 
 ments, not by birth or fortune, but by being what is com- 
 monly called good fpeakers. 
 
 ment,
 
 CHAP. XL EDUCATION. 53 
 ment, by furniming it with the moft fuit- 
 able means to anfwer it's end -, it is in 
 fhort that regulating principle, which I 
 have before fpoken of, fo efTentially necef- 
 fary to the prefervation of our conftitution, 
 religion. As the religion of the antients 
 confifted chiefly in rites and ceremonies, 
 it could derive no affiftance from oratory; 
 but there is not the fmalleft branch of ours 
 which can be well executed without {kill 
 in fpeaking, and the more important parts, 
 calculated to anfwer the great ends, evi- 
 dently require the whole oratorial powers. 
 But before I enlarge upon the means 
 by which it may be preferved, it will not 
 be improper in thefe days, wherein reli- 
 gion is fallen into fuch contempt, to prove 
 the abiblute neceffity of the principle itfelf 
 to the prefervation of the flate. In ofder 
 to do this I mall endeavour, firft, to mew, 
 that tho' virtue might have beenafufficient 
 principle to have fupported the an- 
 tient republicks, yet that it could not be 
 fufficient to fupport our form of govern- 
 ment, notwithflanding it be equally necef- 
 fary to it. Secondly, that the caufe of the 
 failure and decay of the principle of virtue 
 E 3 in
 
 54 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 in thofe ftates, was, that the means to fupport 
 it were inadequate, and that thofe means, 
 or any indeed of human invention, muft 
 be of infinitely lefs efficacy with us than 
 with them. Thirdly, that from the nature 
 of our fituation, and the peculiarity of our 
 circumftances, nothing could pofiibly make 
 us or continue us a great and flourishing 
 people, but an immediate revelation of 
 the divine will, and a perfect obedience 
 paid on our part to that will fo revealed. 
 Fourthly, that the means made ufe of by 
 the antients to fupport their principle of 
 virtue, tho' found inefficient and inade- 
 quate to that end, yet would be found for- 
 cible enough and abundantly effectual to 
 preferve our principle of religion. 
 
 C H A'P.
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 55 
 C H A P. XII. 
 
 Tho virtue might have been a fujjkient 
 principle to have fupported the ant lent re- 
 fublickSy yet it 'would not be fufficient to 
 fupport our form of government., notwith- 
 jlanding it be equally nece/Jary to it. 
 
 WHoever hath a mind to be con- 
 vinced of the abfolute neceffity of 
 virtue to a republican form of government, 
 infomuch that it cannot poffibly fubfifl 
 without it, may fee the point undeniably 
 proved by Montefquieu in his Spirit of 
 laws. He will alfo find it evidently fhewn, 
 that liberty cannot exift without virtue, 
 whence he may deduce the neceffity of it 
 alfo to our conftitution. That it was a fuf- 
 ficient principle to anfwer all the ends of a 
 republican ftate, the experience of ages has 
 fully (hewn. For all the great republicks 
 were ftrong and flourished whilft that 
 principle remained in it's vigour ; as that 
 grew weak, they declined ; and with the 
 total corruption of it, were deftroyed. So 
 that their ruin was not occasioned by any 
 E 4 defecT:
 
 5 6 BRITISH BOOK T. 
 
 defed in the principle itfelf, but by the 
 corruption of it, thro' the neglect or want 
 of proper means to fupport it. Thefe were 
 found too weak to oppofe luxury, which 
 like a mighty torrent always overturned 
 and carried all before it. By that Athens 
 fell, by that Rome perimed. 
 
 - Stevtor armh 
 
 Luxurla incubuit juiclumque ulcifcitur or hem. 
 In the Spartan commonwealth the mighty 
 power of this principle of virtue was 
 ihewn in it's greateil height. For as 
 it's deadliefl foe, luxury, had been banifh- 
 ed by the inftitutions of Lycurgus, it laft- 
 cd with little or no alteration for more than 
 700 years. And at the time when there 
 ieemed to be a general combination againft 
 the freedom of mankind j when luxury 
 and tyranny went hand in hand over the 
 face of the earth; in that little ftate the 
 facred flame of liberty was ftill preferved : 
 there fhe had ftill an afylum, and fup- 
 ported by virtue, feemed to defy the 
 united endeavours of mankind. Tho' often 
 conquered, tho' often thrown to earth, by 
 the fuperior force of their antagonists, yet 
 Ike Antseus they arofe again frefh and 
 
 vigorous
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 57 
 
 vigorous thro' the divine energy of their 
 principle. 'Till their enemies defpairing 
 of ever being able to fubdue their ftate 
 whilft their virtue remained, found it ne- 
 ceffary to pave the way for luxury by al- 
 tering the infthutions of Lycurgus-, and 
 changing their mode of education. This 
 foon effected what the force of arms could 
 never have done, and in a (hort time they 
 were no longer a people. 
 
 However powerful this principle may 
 be, however equal to anfwer all the 
 ends of republican governments, it would 
 be far from being fufficient to our purpofe. 
 From the nature of their inftitution, that 
 muft be their fole ruling principle, nor 
 could it have any other to contend with, 
 except what arofe from the ambition of 
 private men. It had no occaiion for con- 
 troul or reflraint, fmce even it's excefs 
 could not be hurtful to the ftate. 
 
 But in the very groundwork of our 
 conftitution are fown the feeds of other 
 principles. A monarch has not necefla- 
 rily virtue for his object ; the increafe of 
 his power may perhaps be a more natural 
 aim. A nobility may have in view the 
 
 enlarge-
 
 58 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 enlargement of their property, and addi- 
 tion to their honours, and the increafe of 
 kingly power may by them be confidered as 
 the morteft road to thefe. To guard again ft 
 their encroachments will be the bulinefs 
 of virtue in the reprefentatives of the peo*- 
 pie. But then this virtue muft be con- 
 fined within due bounds, for Should it run 
 into excefs, it would as necerTarily over- 
 turn the conftitution as fuccefsful ambi- 
 tion in the others -f-. As in the one cafe 
 our ftate would become wholly monar- 
 chical, fo in the other it muft of courfe 
 be republican. Hence we may deduce 
 the neceffity of a principle fuperior to vir- 
 tue, to regulate it's motions, and confine 
 it within proper limits. As man is to be 
 controuled by man, fo muft principle by 
 principle. For mould 'we entruft the 
 power of regulating or eftablifhing prin- 
 ciples to man, we at the fame time give 
 him power to modify them as he pleafes, 
 or to deftroy them ; and confequently 
 furniili him with the means of tyraniz- 
 
 mg. 
 
 Vide reign of Charles I. 
 
 CHAP
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 59 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 'Tbaf the cauje of the failure and decay of 
 the principle in thofe > was y that the means 
 to fupport it were inadequate, and that 
 thofe means > or indeed any of human in- 
 vention, muft be of infinitely lefs efficacy 
 with us than with them. 
 
 * g ^ H E means ufed by the antients to 
 A fupport virtue were education, ora- 
 tory, and reward. By the firft, proper and 
 early notions of it were inftilled before the 
 mind was capable of judging. By the fe- 
 cond, thofe notions were confirmed and 
 eftablimed in the moil forcible manner, 
 which at once informed the underhand- 
 ing, and wrought upon the paffions of 
 mankind. By the laft, men were allured 
 and excited to reduce thefe notions to prac- 
 tice, both for their own benefit and that 
 of fociety. As the laft therefore was the 
 great mover to adlion, it is evident, that 
 the efficacy of the former depended upon 
 that. Whilfl therefore reward was the 
 neceffary attendant on virtue, virtue of 
 
 courfe
 
 6o BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 courfe was the chief object of educa- 
 tion, and the chief point inculcated by 
 oratory -, but fhould reward change it's 
 object, and fhould vice lead to it inftead 
 of virtue, it is eafy to fee, that there would 
 be a change in the road alfo. 
 
 Whilft republicks preferved their prin- 
 ciple, virtue was neceffarily the firft object 
 in education. Oratory, as the means of 
 difplaying virtue in it's brightett colours, 
 and imprinting it ftrongly on the minds of 
 others, was of courfe ftudied, and rewards 
 were the natural refult of virtue and im- 
 proved talents. For the whole power of 
 reward lying in the people, whilft they 
 were taught to believe, that the good and 
 fafety of each individual depended upon 
 the good and fafety of the whole, they na- 
 turally, to the beft of their judgments, 
 conferred rewards on the moft deferving, 
 on fuch as were befl able to fupport the 
 republick. But, when their principle was 
 corrupted, when luxury deftroyed publick 
 fpirit, and favoured felfim gratifications, 
 rewards were then diftributed, not from 
 views of publick good, but to anfwer 
 private ends; the moil corrupt men were 
 
 chofen
 
 
 CHAP.XIII. EDUCATION. 61 
 
 vv 6 1 V X ?i oL 
 
 chofen into places of power by corrupt 
 
 voters - f the means to thrive in the world 
 were the ends fought after by education, 
 and oratory was profhituted to anfwer the 
 fame purpofes. But in our conftitution, 
 as the power of reward lies principally in 
 the monarch, and his minifters, it is evi- 
 dent enough that he can give what bias he 
 pleafes to education. If his view be to 
 extend his power, he will hardly fuffer 
 virtue to be it's object, nor will he care to 
 have the youth exercifed and made fkilful 
 in the ufe of fo dangerous a weapon as 
 oratory. From the very nature of our go- 
 vernment indeed, the incitements to vir- 
 tue cannot be fo great as in republicks. 
 There the field is open to all candidates, 
 and the fpirits of a man are fupported, and 
 animated in his fatiguing purfuits, by the 
 moral certainty of the fuccefs which will 
 attend his labours. Whereas with us the 
 avenues are barred to many of perhaps the 
 beft talents, and brighteft accomplish- 
 inents ; and the reward depending upon 
 the will and pleafure 'of one or a few, who 
 may not be either the moft fkilful, or un- 
 
 corrupt,
 
 62 BRITISH BOOK I, 
 corrupt, induftry of courfc flags, and me- 
 rit drops it's wing. 
 
 We fhould have but few artifts finim 
 their pieces with care and exactnefs, whofe 
 value was to be fettled by the throwing of 
 dice, by the decifion of corrupt, or the ca- 
 price of ignorant judges. 
 
 Hence it is manifeft that the means of 
 fupporting virtue are much weaker with 
 us than with the antients ; if therefore it 
 be proved that the caufes of it's destruction 
 are much flronger with us than with them, 
 how abfurd mull: it appear to think of 
 ertablifhing that as our principle, which it 
 is impomble for us to fupport. 
 
 The great caufe of the deftruction 
 of virtue amongft the antients, was 
 luxury j but it was not the native growth 
 of their foil. It was tranfplanted from 
 other climes, was a long time before it 
 grew to any height, and might eafily have 
 been checked and kept low. It is true, 
 at different times, from different conquefts, 
 fudden torrents of wealth poured in upon 
 them, which filled the channek of luxury, 
 and threatened danger to the land : but 
 
 it
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 63 
 
 it required only a little refolution and 
 fteadinefs to oppofe their firft violence, 
 and their force would foon fpend itlelf. 
 Sumptuary laws and the office of cenfor 
 properly executed were fufficient to guard 
 the ftate from any very dangerous confe- 
 quencesj had it not been for the ambition 
 of private men, whofe interefi: it was to 
 propagate corruption. But when we take 
 a view of the fituation of our country, 
 that it is an ifland, that it muft of courfe 
 owe it's fplendor and power intirely to 
 commerce,not to conqueir. ; that commerce 
 produces wealth, and wealth of neceffity 
 introduces luxury ; we fee, that with the 
 feeds of our conflitution are fown the feeds 
 of it's corruption, that both muft grow up 
 together, and unlefs proper care be taken 
 the weeds muft choak the grain. Wealth 
 flows not in upon us by fudden gufhes 
 and mountainy floods after rain or ihow- 
 ers, it has an inexhauftible fource, from 
 which flows a regular conftant river, that 
 grows wider and deeper as it advances ; 
 but as it has no boundlefs ocean to lofe 
 itlelf in, as it terminates in the central 
 pool of luxury, the whole land muft, in 
 3 time
 
 64 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 time be deluged, if conftant care be not 
 taken to prevent it. 
 
 The Dutch have not more caufe to be 
 watchful over their dykes as they fee the 
 fea gaining upon them, than we have to 
 guard our bulwarks againft the increafing 
 tide of corruption. Luxury is not only ar- 
 rived at a greater pitch, and become more 
 general than it formerly was, but it mufl 
 daily receive new additions from our con- 
 nections with the eaftern and weftern In- 
 dies. The power of our enemy hath been 
 much increafed, which hath rendered it's 
 attacks more formidable and hard to be 
 refifted. Not greater additional force hath 
 been given to military engines by the in- 
 vention of gunpowder, than to the aflaults 
 of luxury, by our commercial difcoveries. 
 And what bulwarks have we to guard us, 
 what weapons to defend us againft it's at- 
 tacks ? Monarchs, and favourers of mo- 
 narchy, will hardly promote fumptuary 
 laws, or eftablifh the office of cenfor. In 
 this refpect our conftitution is as naked " 
 and void of ftrong holds, and fortified 
 places, as our country, when an enemy 
 has once got footing in it. In both cafes 
 
 there
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 65 
 
 there is no other refource but in the virtue 
 and valour of the people. 
 
 If then the antients were not able to 
 fupport virtue when their means were fo 
 much greater, againil the attacks of luxu- 
 ry when it's force was fomuch lefs, how 
 mall we hope to do it, when the means to 
 fupport virtue are fo much lefs, and the 
 force of luxury fo much increafed ? 
 
 Perhaps it may be faid, that tho' virtue 
 be loft, vice may be reftrained, and that 
 the power of the laws, and punifhments, 
 may be fufficient to check it's progrefs. 
 Suppofe this were granted, yet it muit ne- 
 ceflarily be at the expence of our liberty. 
 The principle of defpotick government is 
 fear, and the means to fupport that prin- 
 ciple are punifhments. The more there- 
 fore we eftablifh that principle, and the 
 more we rely upon thofe means, the nearer 
 do we approach to a ftate of ilavery. Hear 
 what Montefquieu fays upon this fubject. 
 ' It. is a perpetual remark of the Chinefe 
 ' authors, that the more the punimments 
 1 of criminals were increafed, in their em-* 
 ' pire, the nearer they were to a revolu- 
 c tion. This is.becaufe punifhments were 
 
 aug-
 
 66 BRITISH BOOK!. 
 
 4 augmented in proportion as the public 
 ' morals were corrupted. 
 
 ' It would be an ealy matter to prove, 
 c that in all, or almoft all the govern- 
 e ments of Europe, punifhments have 
 c increafed or diminished in proportion as 
 
 5 thofe governments favoured or difcou- 
 ' raged liberty. * 
 
 In 
 
 * Spirit of laws, vol. i. b. vi. ch. 9. 
 
 In proportion as luxury gains ground in a republick, 
 the minds of the people are turned towards their particu- 
 lar interefts. Thofe who are allowed only what is ne- 
 ceflary, have nothing to wifh for but their own and their 
 country's glory ; but a foul depraved by luxury has many 
 ether defires, and foon becomes an enemy to the laws 
 that confine it. 
 
 No fooner were the Romans corrupted, than their de- 
 fires became boundlefs and immenfe. 
 
 When the whole world, impelled by the force of a 
 general corruption, is immerfed in roluptuoufnefs, what 
 jnuft then become of virtue ? 
 
 Spirit of laws, vol. i. b. vii. ch. 2. 
 
 When virtue is banifhed, ambition invades the hearts 
 of thofe who are difpofed to receive it, and avarice pof- 
 fefles the whole community. The defires now change 
 their objects ; what they were fond of before becomes in- 
 different ; they were free, while under the reltraint oi 
 laws, they will now be free to aft againft law ; and as 
 every citizen is like a flave efcaped from his matter's 
 houfe, what was a maxim of equity they call rigour ; 
 what was a rale of action, they call cooftraint ; and Jo 
 precaution, they give the name of fear. Frugality, and 
 not the thirft of &ain, now pafles for avarke. Formerly 
 :he \vcalthofindividuals conttituted the publick treafure; 
 but now the publick treafure is become the patrimony ot 
 private perfons. Th members of the commonwealth 
 
 riot
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 67 
 
 In another place he fays ; * { Men muft 
 
 * not be led by excefs of violence ; we 
 
 * ought to make a prudent ufe of the 
 
 * means which nature has given us to con- 
 ' duct them. If we enquire into the caufe 
 ' of all human corruptions, we fhall find 
 c that they proceed from the impunity of 
 c crimes, and not from the moderation 
 ' of punifhments.' 
 
 It will follow therefore, -f- ( that in mo- 
 c derate governments a good legiflator is 
 
 * lefs bent upon puniming, than prevent- 
 
 * ing crimes ; he is more attentive to in- 
 k fpire good morals, than to inflict punifh- 
 c ments.' 
 
 J c But it often happens that a legiflator 
 
 * defirous of reforming an evil, thinks of 
 1 nothing but of this reformation ; his eyes 
 ' are open only to this object, and {hut to 
 
 * it's inconveniencies. When the evil is 
 ' redrefled, there is nothing feen but the 
 
 * feverky of the legiflator ; yet there will 
 
 * remain an evil in the ftate that has fprung 
 
 on .the publick fpoils, and it's ftrength is only the 
 power of fome citizens, and the licentioufnefs of the 
 whole community. Ibid. b. iii. ch. 3. 
 
 * Book vi. ch. 12. f Ch, 9. J Ch. 1 2. 
 
 F 2 ' from
 
 . BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 V/* 1 f r -'~' f -'J1 -rt r/-t 
 
 * from this feverity ; the minds of the 
 ' people are corrupted, and become ha- 
 ' bituated to defpotick power.' 
 
 It would therefore be but a bad omen 
 if we faw the legislature relying wholly 
 upon punimments for the prefervation of 
 morals ; for either the means would not 
 be effectual, or if effectual, we mufl foon 
 change our freedom for flavery. One of 
 the two following cafes mentioned by 
 Montefquieu muft inevitably be our lot. 
 
 * c There are two forts of corruption ; one 
 4 when the people do not obferve the 
 1 laws; the other, when they are cor- 
 ' rupted by the laws ;' an incurable evil, 
 c becaufe it is in the very remedy itfelf.' 
 
 The antients knew the force and ne- 
 ceffity of the principle of fear, but they 
 alfo knew how to make a right ufe of it. 
 As only the few were to be allured to vir- 
 tue by reward, the bulk of the people could 
 be kept from vice by nothing but punim- 
 ment. But as punimment acts by fear, 
 and the direcl: tendency of fear is to-de- 
 prefs the fpirits, and check that nobility 
 of foul which alone could fupport a free 
 
 *Ch. 12. 
 
 repub-
 
 
 HAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 69 
 
 publick, they ufed it with a fparing 
 hand. Penal laws with them were few, 
 and their punifhments of the lighteft kind. 
 But tho' the fear of man, or any thing be- 
 longing to him, or his inftitutions, might 
 debafe man, yet the fear of the gods, as 
 fuperior beings, and a reverence to their 
 commands, could be no degradation to hu- 
 man nature. Hence we fee that the di- 
 rect intent of their laws was to promote 
 virtue, and to engage the obedience of 
 their citizens to them by reward ; whilft 
 vice was difcouraged by a dread of punim- 
 ment from the gods, and an hatred to it 
 inculcated chiefly by the laws of religion. 
 Thus had they the full ufe of this prin- 
 ciple without any of it's ill effects. Re- 
 ligious awe deprefles not the foul, on the 
 contrary it invigorates it in the caufe of 
 virtue, and the operation of fear muft be 
 infinitely more powerful, when it's ob- 
 ject is a fuperior being, the effects of 
 whofe difpleafure are unavoidable by us, 
 than when it's object is mere man or his 
 laws, which force may refill, or cunning 
 may evade. Accordingly we find that a 
 greater purity of morals was preferved, 
 F 3 and
 
 70 B R I r I S H BOOK I. 
 
 and fewer crimes committed in thofe 
 Hates, under the influence of this religious 
 fenfe, than in any of thofe countries which 
 depended upon the feverity of their laws, 
 and the rigour of their puni(hments. 
 
 But as their religion was merely of 
 human inftitution, and it's whole force 
 depended upon the belief of the contrary, 
 it was no difficult matter to overturn it. 
 The grofs abfurdities with which it was 
 filled were fufficient to deftroy it's credibi- 
 lity, whenever the eyes of the people were 
 opened. It did not require much pains 
 to perfuade men that a thing was falfe, 
 which they wifhed to be fo : or to free 
 them from the fetters of prejudice, when 
 their pafiions were too ftrong for restraint. 
 As they had not any juft notions of a 
 future flate, the obfervation of the unequal 
 diftribution of rewards and punishments 
 iri this life would foon deftroy all truft in 
 providence, and make man alone the ob- 
 ject of their hopes and fears ; and when 
 the leaders who knew it to be nothing but 
 a political fcheme, found it their intereft 
 to pull off the mafic, and to act againft it's 
 precepts, their 'example was foon followed 
 
 by
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION, 71 
 
 t>y the multitude. No great labour was 
 required to make them pull down altars 
 raifed to men, and to break in pieces like 
 potters clay, and trample under foot, the 
 gods of their own making. Thus virtue, 
 morals, and religion, were all borne a- 
 way by the irreftftable tide of corruption. 
 
 CHAP, XIV. 
 
 Ijatfrom the nature of our jltuatlon and 
 the peculiarity of our circumstances, no- 
 thing could poffibly make us, or continue 
 us a great and Jhurijbing people, but 
 an immediate revelation from God, 
 
 IT will be granted, that without liberty 
 we can not either be a greater a flourim- 
 ing people. It will be granted, that liberty 
 cannot fubfift without virtue, and it has 
 been proved by the experience of all ages, 
 and countries, that virtue is neceflarily 
 deftroyed by luxury. It has been fhewn 
 that all human means to preferve virtue 
 are weaker and fewer with us, and the 
 caufes which introduce and promote lux- 
 ury more certain and more powerful, botli 
 in degree and number, than in any other 
 F 4 free
 
 72 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 free country. It will therefore necefTarily 
 follow, that we have lefs probability of 
 preferving our liberty, by any means hi- 
 therto pradtifed, and that it's duration 
 muft of courfe be fhorter than in any of 
 thofe ftates where it once flouriftied, and 
 was- afterwards deftroyed. When it is 
 confidered that liberty, and confequently 
 virtue, are abfolutely neceiTary to our well- 
 being ; and that riches, and confequently 
 luxury, muft unavoidably flow in upon us 
 from the nature of our fituation j that 
 thefe two are utterly incompatible, and 
 that the one muft neceflarily deftroy the 
 other ; that either to get rid of our luxury 
 we muft part with our wealth, without 
 which we can not be a flouriming people, 
 or defend ourfelves againft the power of 
 our enemies j or if our luxury remains, 
 we muft part with our virtue, and confe- 
 quently our liberty, which would render 
 iis ftill lefs flourishing, and lefs powerful -, 
 the prefervation of fuch a ftate feems to 
 be beyond the power of all human means, 
 
 and can be effected by nothing but divine 
 
 9yji /-- "' 
 
 mterpoiition. 
 
 f f f i , - -. * n /*-, i i ' 
 
 In a ftate fo circumftanced nothing can 
 .\Hlniifi coOfnoit sine
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 73 
 
 pofTibly engage men in the painful and 
 felf-denying practice of virtue, in fpite of 
 the conftant temptations in their way, but 
 the certainty of a fuitable reward; and no- 
 thing can deter them from vice, when fli- 
 mulated and inflamed by paflions, but un- 
 avoidable punimments adequate to their 
 crimes. This can not be on earth, where 
 man is to be the judge ; it muft therefore 
 be in a future flate, and the office belong 
 to God alone, the fearcher of hearts. But 
 as the light of nature and unaffifted reafon 
 could never difcover-this with a fufficient 
 degree of certainty to "make it a principle of 
 
 action, it was necefTary that it mould come 
 
 / 
 
 to us by an immediate revelation from 
 
 's 
 
 God. To give this force, it was not fuf- 
 ficient to know that there would be a fu- 
 ture ftate, in which rewards and punim- 
 ments would be distributed ; it was necef- 
 fary alfo that a fyftem of laws mould be 
 promulged for our conduct in life, the ob- 
 fervance or breach of which (hould entitle 
 us to reward or fubject us to punimment. 
 To enforce the obfervation of thefe laws, 
 it was alfo necefTary that they ihould be 
 believed to come from God himfelf. 
 
 I (hall 

 
 74 BRITISH BOOK -I. 
 
 I mall not attempt to enter upon fo 
 beaten a topick as the proof of die authen- 
 ticity of our holy religion. This has era- 
 ployed the pens of many who have never 
 been excelled in clearnefs of underftand- 
 ing, folidity of judgement, and depth of 
 penetration ; fo that probably nothing new 
 can be faid upon that head. I mall con- 
 tent myfelf with {hewing, that if ever a 
 divine revelation was necefTary to mao, it 
 was more particularly fo to the Britim 
 nation, than to any other upon earth : 
 that it was impofliblei without fuch a re- 
 velation, we mould ever be, or continue to 
 be, a great and nourifhing people : and 
 that the fyftem now nominally eftablifhed 
 amongft us as the reveakd will of God, 
 were it really believed to be fuch univer- 
 felly, and accordingly praftifed^ would 
 raife us above all other nations that either 
 do, or ever did exift upon earth, and 
 pteferve us unalterably fuch to the end of 
 time, provided that fyftem continued to 
 retain it's due influence. 
 
 It was a maxirs of Tully's,. ' That it is 
 ' impoflible for thofe who have no belief 
 * of the immortality of the foul, or a fu- 
 
 ' ture
 
 . EDUCATION. 75 
 
 * ture ftate of rewards aud punishments, 
 
 * to facrifice their particular interests and 
 c paffions to the publick good, or to have 
 ' a generous concern for pofterity." And 
 the moft enlightened of the heathens, 
 the aimoft infpired Plato, has delivered 
 it as his opinion, that c concerning thofe 
 ' great duties which men's appetites and 
 c paffions render difficult, it fhould feern 
 c rather the work of God to provide, than 
 
 * of human legiilators, if it were poffible 
 
 * to hope for a fyftem of laws framed and 
 c promulged by God himfelf.' 
 
 Here we fee how necefiary the wifeft 
 
 of the heathens judged fuch a revelation 
 
 to be, could it have been hoped for. 
 
 And if he thought fo in his days, how 
 
 much more necefiary ou-ght we to think 
 
 it in the prefent times ? In the antient 
 
 jfeee flares, there arofe from the nature 
 
 of their conftkiuion, a principle fuffieient 
 
 to prefcrve them. God had done his part 
 
 by them; he had furnifhed them with 
 
 proper means for their fecurky, and if 
 
 they fuffered them to fail in their hands, 
 
 it was their fault. But whoever examines 
 
 the conftitution of Great Britain, will find 
 
 that
 
 7 6 BRITISH BOOK 1. 
 that from it's nature it had no principle ; 
 and confidering the difcordant and jarring 
 parts of which it is compofed, it muft ne- 
 ceffarily fall to pieces in a fhort time, un- 
 lefs they were cemented by religion. To 
 them therefore fuch a revelation was more 
 abfolutely neceffary than to any other na- 
 
 tion. 
 
 When it is confidered that Great Bri- 
 tain is particularly circumftanced in re- 
 gard to any other country that ever made 
 a figure in the world, and that in order 
 to be confpicuous me muft have other 
 principles than what the wit of man has 
 ever yet difcovered, would it not be a 
 ftrong prefumptive proof in favour of their 
 divine original, mould fuch principles be 
 provided for her without her feeking, at 
 a time when me had moft occafion for 
 them ? Her flourifhing ftate was to arife 
 from commerce j for this the wonderful 
 invention of the compafs made way, by 
 which thofe amazing difcoveries of new 
 worlds on this globe were made. By 
 commerce riches, and by riches luxury 
 muft neceflarily be introduced, againft 
 which no ftate was ever able to ftand ; 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 77 
 and me, from the nature of her con- 
 ftitution, was lefs able than any. When 
 it is confidered, that previous to the 
 great opening of commerce, a fyftem of 
 laws was provided for her and promul- 
 gated over the whole nation, which alone 
 was able to prevent the deftrudlion atten- 
 dant on luxury j that this fyftem was not 
 framed by any legiflator of her own 
 country, (as in all other cafes) not culti- 
 vated and eftablifhed by the wifdom or 
 defign of man, in times of knowlege, but 
 in the days of ignorance, when our fore- 
 fathers knew not it's particular ufe and 
 fitnefs to their country ; that it was 
 not brought in by the hand of power, and 
 fupported by authority, but made it's way 
 againfl the paflions, prejudices, interefts, 
 and violence of mankind j that a refor- 
 mation was begun of the abufes which 
 had crept into this fyftem, at a mofl cri- 
 tical time, and that not from any views 
 to publick utility, but from agents who 
 were doing good in the dark ; when it is 
 confidered, that Great Britain by thefe 
 mean?, in her very in fancy, and juft emerg- 
 ing out of darknefs, found herfelf in pof- 
 
 feffion
 
 7S $ R 1 ? I S H BOOK I. 
 fefiion of a wifer and better fyftem of 
 moral laws, than the labour of centuries 
 in" the mod polifhed and intelligent na- 
 tions ever produced ; that this fyilem was 
 not only calculated in the moft exadl man- 
 ner for all the purpofes of fociety in gene- 
 ral, but peculiarly adapted to the particu*- 
 lar circumftances of this country above all 
 others ; when all thefe things are con- 
 fidered, fure there is not any one of the 
 leaft reflection who muft not necelTarily 
 fee the hand of God throughout. 
 
 That the gofpel fyftem is the beft cal- 
 culated for the univerfal good of man- 
 kind, and all the ufes of fociety, is a con- 
 feffion extorted even from the mouths of 
 it's greateft enemies and oppofers. That 
 it is peculiarly adapted to our country and 
 conftitution, may at once be feen by any 
 one who will take a view of both. That 
 one principle chiefly inculcated by it was 
 abfolutely necefTary to a people, whofe 
 flouriming ftate muft be owing to com- 
 merce, I mean that enlarged principle of 
 univerfal benevolence, which extending 
 the narrow bounds of our affections be- 
 yond the little fpot in which we cafually 
 
 3
 
 CiiAP.XV. EDUCATION. 79 
 firft drew air, teaches us to look on the 
 whole world as our country, and to love 
 all mankind as our brethren j that fuch a 
 principle, I fay, muft be of the utmoft ufe 
 and benefit to a commercial people, can, 
 not be denied. If all this be fo, if not 
 only the well-being, but the very being 
 of our ftate depends upon the eftablifh- 
 ment of this fyftern as our principle, and 
 the eftablimment depends upon the belief 
 of it's divine inftitution, is it our bufinefs 
 to be too curioufly inquifitive into it's ori- 
 ginal ? Shall we not embrace the bleflings 
 which it brings, becaufe we can not be; 
 certain of the hand from which they 
 come ? Would not a man be reckoned an 
 ideot who adted fo in the common affairs 
 of life ? It is fo much, fo abfolutely our 
 intereft to believe it, that far from re- 
 quiring demonftration to fupport it, no- 
 thing but the mod abfolute demonftration 
 of the contrary ought to have the lead 
 weight with us. Did it contain any thing 
 indeed prejudicial to the interefts of fociety 
 in general, or the welfare of it's members 
 in particular, it would then be the buii- 
 nefs of all men to examine narrowly into 
 
 it's
 
 8o R I T J S H BOOK I. 
 it's foundation, and it would be their duty 
 to refufe obedience to it, unlefs it were 
 unqueftionably proved to come from God 
 himfelf. But if it be allowed to be per- 
 fectly calculated for the good of the 
 whole, as well as of every individual, as 
 it would be the higheft abfurdity 'in us 
 to refufe obedience to it without fuch 
 proof, fo it would be inconfiftent with the 
 wifdom of that divine nature which does 
 nothing in vain, to furnifh us with fuch 
 proof as we mould unreafonably require. 
 Demonftration is fuperfluous, where pro- 
 bability is fufficient. What {hall we fay 
 then to a fet of men who allow the utility 
 of the fyftem, and yet do their utmofl to 
 deftroy it's effect ? Are they not enemies 
 to fociety, do they not declare themfelves 
 fuch in the very aft, who attempt to de- 
 flroy the force of any principle apparently 
 for the good of fociety ? Are they not ene- 
 mies to their country who would en- 
 deavour to loofen and make the bafts of 
 it's conftitution ? Suppofe it were in their 
 power to give abfolute demonftration (im- 
 poffible indeed) that this religion came 
 not from God, and by that means they 
 
 ihould'
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 81 
 fhould deftroy the effect of the only prin- 
 ciple by which the nobleit constitution 
 upon earth could be fupported, what re- 
 ward fhould theie men expect ? Should it 
 not be oppolite to what the prefervers of 
 their country have met with ? Should not 
 a pillar of infamy be erected to their me- 
 mories ? It might be doubted whether 
 there could be any fuch men upon earth, 
 were there not too many glaring proofs of 
 it. The tranfcendent excellence of our 
 holy religion has necerTarily raifed enemies 
 to it. For as this noble fyftem is admi- 
 rably framed for the publick benefit, as 
 well as the real good of every member, 
 fo is it directly oppofite to the fenfual gra- 
 tifications and felfim views of individuals. 
 Whilft therefore there are fenfualifts or 
 weak felfifh men, who miftake their true 
 intereft in the world, they will neceilarily 
 be it's oppofers and enemies. Whatever 
 fpecious pretext of liberty or virtue they 
 may (hew forth, felfim nefs is at the bot- 
 tom. Watch their actions, and you will 
 find them feifiih. Whoever endeavours 
 to loofen or break the bonds of fociety, 
 in that inftance (hews that he prefers his 
 G individual
 
 82 B R I r I S H BOOK I. 
 
 individual felf to the whole. Whoever 
 contends for a liberty to acl again ft the 
 good of fociety, wants to put it in practice. 
 Whoever complains of reflraints upon na- 
 tural appetites, wants to gratify thofe ap- 
 petites. Pity it is that fuch men were not 
 banimed together to fome defolate ifland, 
 where they would foon be convinced by 
 experience of the neceffity of having re- 
 courfe to thofe very principles from the 
 motive of felf-prefervation, which in a 
 focial ftate, from a motive of felf- gratifi- 
 cation they would have deftroyed. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of the means by which the principle of reli- 
 gion may be fupported^ and the chief caufe 
 of it's decay Jhewn to arife Jrom a ma- 
 terial defect in education. 
 
 HAving ftiewn the neceffity of the 
 principle, it will be now proper to 
 confider the means by which it may be 
 fupported, in it's due vigour. If it be faid 
 that this principle coming from God, muft 
 of neceffity make it's way in fpite of all 
 opposition on the part of man, and fulfil 
 3 the
 
 CHAP.XV. EDUCATION. 8.3 
 
 the ends of it's inftitution, the argument 
 is fallacious, * ' We are not to think, it 
 
 * is the work of God, and therefore not to 
 c be feconded by human care. Far other- 
 ' wife ; for that very reafon it claims our 
 ' utmoft care and diligence, it being the 
 
 * indifpenfible duty of all good men, 
 ' throughout the whqle courfe of their 
 4 lives, to cooperate with the defigns of 
 ( providence. In religion, as in nature, 
 4 God doth fomewhat, and fomewhat is to 
 c be done on the part of man. He caufes 
 
 * the earth to bring forth materials for food 
 ' and raiment, but human induflry muft 
 c improve, prepare, and properly apply 
 ' both the one and the other, or mankind 
 ' may perim with cold and hunger. And 
 ' according to this fame analogy, the prin- 
 ' ciples of piety and religion, the things 
 
 * that belong to our falv&tion, altho' 
 
 * originally and primarily the work of 
 
 * God, yet require the protection of human 
 
 overnment, as well as the furtherance 
 and aid of all wife and good men.' 
 God has revealed his will, and fupplied 
 the means to put it in execution j this is 
 * Bilhop of Cloyne. 
 
 G 2 all
 
 84 ' $ R IT IS II BOOK I. 
 all that is to be hoped for on his part, to 
 make a proper ufe of thofe means is the 
 bufinefs of man. The moral precepts of 
 chriftianity are fo clear, that to be aflent- 
 ed to, they need only be known. But 
 knowlege without practice is ufelefs. To 
 perfuade men to practife them, it is necef- 
 fary that they mould be forcibly inculcat- 
 ed, and frequent impreffions made till 
 practice ripens into habit. Even then 
 thofe impreffions can not be too often re- 
 peated, confidering the frailty of human 
 nature, for fear of a relapfe. How admi- 
 rably has our constitution taken care of this, 
 in eftabliiliing an order of men fupported 
 by the publick, whofe whole bufinefs it is 
 weekly and daily to attend to this point. 
 But the end of their institution can never 
 be anfwered without power of fpeaking, 
 and fkill in oratory. Deprived of thefe the 
 pulpit isatbeSt ufelefs, and the preacher a 
 cypher. We might as reafonably expect 
 that red coats, and mufkets, without am- 
 munition, or military difcipline in foldiers, 
 fhould preferve our country againSl the 
 invafion of an enemy, as that black gowns, 
 and bands, and empty forms, or the 
 
 * Shoot-
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 85 
 { Shooting calm words folded up in fmoke 1 * 
 mould be fufficient weapons in the hands 
 of the clergy, to fupport the church 
 againft the attacks of vice and infidelity. 
 
 There are two ways by which the pu- 
 rity of religion, and it's precepts, may be 
 defended ; by fpeaking, and by writing. 
 The firft is the immediate gift of God, who 
 has annexed to it (when cultivated by man) 
 powers almoft miraculous, and an energy 
 nearly divine. He has given to it tones 
 to charm the ear, and penetrate the heart; 
 he has joined to it action, and looks, to move 
 the inmoft foul. By that, attention is kept 
 up without pain, and conviction carried 
 to the mind with delight. Perfuaiion is 
 ever it's attendant, and the paffions own it 
 for a matter. Great as is the force of it's 
 powers, fo unbounded is their extent. All 
 mankind are capable of it's impreflions, 
 the ignorant as well as the wife, the illi- 
 terate as well as the learned. 
 
 The fecond is the invention of man, a 
 mere work of art, and therefore can con- 
 lain no natural power. It's ufe is to give 
 {lability to found, and permanence to 
 
 * Shakefpear's king John. 
 
 G 3 thought.
 
 86 BR'iriSH BOOK I. 
 
 thought. To preferve words that other- 
 wife might perirti as they are fpoke, and 
 to arreft ideas that might vanifh as they 
 rife in the mind. To affift the memory 
 in treafuring thefe up, and to convey 
 knowlege at diftance thro' the eye, where 
 it could find no entrance by the ear. 
 
 The vaft fuperiority of the former over 
 the latter is obvious enough from this 
 view. There is not one power belonging 
 to the latter, which the former, wherever 
 it's influence can be exerted, does not pof- 
 fefs in a more eminent degree. Whereas 
 there are many powers belonging to the 
 former, in which the latter has no (hare. 
 That works by the whole force of artifi- 
 cial as well as natural means j this by ar- 
 tificial means only. None but the learned 
 can receive benefit from the one, all man- 
 kind from the other. As the bulk of the 
 people are illiterate, it's publick utility 
 therefore muft be much greater. The 
 one lliould be confidered as an handmaid 
 to the other, and employed chiefly in fuch 
 offices as (he can not do in her own per- 
 fon. 
 
 Should
 
 :HAP.XV. EDUCATION. 87 
 Should therefore our clergy defert the 
 flrong natural means given by God him- 
 felf to fupport religion, and morality ; 
 means, the abfolute neceiHty of which is 
 daily pointed out to them in every act of 
 office ; mould they have recourfe to the 
 weak, the artificial, the mere inventions of 
 man, is it ftrange that their holy caufe 
 mould fuffer ? In attempting to fupport 
 it only by polemical writings, have they 
 not quitted their proper arms, and faft- 
 nefles, to engage the enemy at their own 
 weapons, and upon their own ground ? 
 By the one, they might command the 
 paffions of mankind, and gain them in- 
 tirely to their fide. In the other, the paf- 
 fions, prejudices, and temporal interefts of 
 men, were too much againft them, to ex- 
 peel: that they fhould be impartial judges 
 of what was coolly offered to their under- 
 ftanding. It is no eafy matter to perfuade 
 men to employ much labour and pains 
 to come at the truth of a thing, which 
 they wifh to be falfe j and a right con- 
 clufion from long deductions of reafoning, 
 is difficult to be made even by unbiaffed 
 minds, but is hardly ever to be expected 
 G 4 from
 
 88 B R ir I S H BOOK I. 
 
 from fuch as are prejudiced, unlefs con- 
 viction like light be forced upon them. 
 In the former, the clergy had the field in- 
 tirely to themielves, no antagonifl could 
 rife up after them to erafe whatever 5m- 
 prefiions their oratory had made. In the 
 latter, they had as many adverfaries as 
 pleafed to take the field, fkilled in all the 
 weapons of logick, and armed with the 
 full force of ridicule 5 which was but too 
 likely to make ftrong impreffions upon 
 minds that were before prepofTefled againft 
 them, and their doctrines. How was it 
 poffible therefore, that they mould not 
 lofe their caufe, when brought before pre- 
 judiced judges ? Or how could they expect 
 that truth mould prevail when ridicule, 
 not reafon, was fet up to be it's teft ? 
 
 By this method, our divines have not 
 only changed their celeftial armour made 
 by God himfelf, of proof againft all hu- 
 man force, for fuch as was made by the 
 weak hands of imperfect man j their wea- 
 pons tempered in pure aetherial fire, for 
 ' thofe of brittle fteel - 3 they have alfo 
 fwerved from the example, and deferted 
 the method pointed out by their great 
 
 fluiv founder, 
 .
 
 CHAP.XV. EDUCATION. 89 
 founder. It was by preaching, not writ- 
 ing, that our blefled Saviour propagated 
 his doctrines. His example was followed 
 by the apoftles, who committed nothing 
 to writing but plain matters of fact, and 
 unadorned precepts. It was the gift of 
 the tongues, not the pen, which was 
 miraculoufly beftowed on the apoftles ; 
 and it is to be fuppofed when they ad- 
 drefled the different nations in their diffe- 
 rent languages, that they did it with force 
 and energy. The mere utterance of the 
 founds out of which their language was 
 compofed, could have but little effect, ex- 
 cept the wonder it might occafion, how 
 illiterate men mould be able to acquire that 
 art ; but when each found himfelf ad- 
 drefled to not only in the words, but in 
 the fpirit of their feveral languages 5 their 
 cxpreflions enforced by proper tones and 
 cadence; and the whole delivered with 
 fuch energy as could alone penetrate the 
 heart, they at once faw and felt, that this 
 could be only the work of God ; nor could 
 fuch multitudes of converts have been 
 made in one day by any other means. In 
 what fort of founds, with what kind of 
 gefture, muft St. Paul have fpoke, when 
 
 Felix
 
 90 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 Felix trembled ? With what power of 
 oratory mufl he have addreffed the Athe- 
 nians, when. that polifhed people looked 
 upon him with fuch admiration ? And what 
 mufl have been the force of his eloquence 
 when the men of Lyftra called him Mer- 
 cury, and would have paid him divine ho- 
 nours ? 
 
 And indeed when the amazing ftrength, 
 and alrrioft boundlefs power of oratory is 
 confidered, no other inftrument could be 
 found of fufficient force, and fuitable dig- 
 nity, to fupport the important and glorious 
 cauie of religion. If the eloquence of 
 the antients was irrefiftable upon com- 
 mon topicks, where only the temporal in- 
 terefts of men were concerned, how much 
 more extenfive muft it's power be, where 
 their eternal welfare is it's fubjecl: ? If the 
 mere charms of oratory alone, independent 
 of the fubjecl:, could have fuch effects ; 
 if the attention of all Greece was taken 
 up by a difpute between two orators, 
 about a trifling reward, an honorary 
 crown, how much more interefled muft 
 each hearer be in a cauie, whofe fubjecl: 
 is the higher! reward to himfelf, that can 
 be conceived by man, and a never-fading 
 
 'crown
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 91 
 crown of glory, of which he can not be 
 deprived ? If Cicero in pleading the caufe 
 of a criminal, could make the blood for- 
 fake the cheeks of a Casfar, and unnerve 
 his arm, why might not the greateft and 
 mightieft amongft us be made to tremble 
 like Felix, could our preachers, like St. 
 Paul, reafon with force and energy, upon 
 righteoufnefs and judgement to come ? 
 There can be no doubt, but that an equal 
 degree of fkillin that art would have much 
 nobler effects amongft us, and be polTefTed 
 of a much more extenfive power, than 
 amongft the antients, as it's fubjecl: would 
 be fo much more important, and the field 
 in which it mould difplay itfelf fo much 
 enlarged. It muft alfo have a greater 
 command over the paffions, as the object 
 of our hopes and fears is increafed. Who- 
 ever doubts of the truth of this, may foon 
 be convinced by examining into the won- 
 derful effects which have been produced 
 by the wild uncultivated oratory of our 
 methodift preachers. 
 
 The ftudy, or negleft of this art, can not 
 poffibly be a matter of indifference to us. 
 It muft be productive of the beft, or 
 attended with the worft confequences. 
 
 It
 
 92 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 It muft either effectually fupport religion 
 againft all oppofition, or be the principal 
 means of it's deftrudtion. The church 
 lervice, according as it is either v/ell or ill 
 admin iftered, muft excite great emotions, 
 or fet people to fleep j it muft give delight, 
 or occafion difguft ; it muft carry convic- 
 tion of truth with it, or appear fictitious. 
 And indeed nothing can contribute more 
 flrongly to make the latter opinion prevail, 
 than hearing it's doctrines delivered in tones 
 and accents quite foreign from nature and 
 truth. In this, as in life, the general max- 
 im will hold good, -that before you can 
 perfuade a man into any opinion, he muft 
 firft be convinced that you believe it your- 
 felf -j-. This he can never be, unlefs the 
 tones of voice in which you fpeak come 
 fromtheheart,accompaniedbycorrefpond- 
 ing looks, and geftures, which naturally r&- 
 fult from a man who fpeaks in earneft *. 
 And this is one of the beft lights with which 
 
 f Caput enim efle arbitrabatur oratoris, ut & ipfis, 
 apud quos ageret, talis, qaalem fe ipfe optaret videretur. 
 
 Cic. de orat. lib. i. 
 
 * Omnis enim motus animi fuum quendam a natura 
 habet vultum, & fonum. Sc geftum ; totumque corpus ho- 
 jninis, & ejus omnis vultus, omnefque voces, ut nervi in 
 4ibu5, iia ibnant, utaraotu aiuini qucque funt pulfe. 
 
 Idem, lib. 3. 
 
 nature
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 93 
 
 nature has furnifhed us to preventourbeing 
 impofed upon in our converfe with each 
 other ; and indeed, without fome fuch 
 plain characteriftical marks, truth could 
 not long exift upon earth ; nor could there 
 be any mutual confidence amongft men. 
 For confidered -only as artificial founds, 
 the words of falfhood are as eafily fpoke 
 as thofe of truth ; the lips and tongue dif- 
 charge their office equally well in the one, 
 and the other. But the tones that are de- 
 clarative of truth, muft come from the 
 heart, which at the fame time ftrikes 
 other chords ; the face, and limbs, act as 
 unifons,and bear testimony to the truth fo 
 declared. And tho' this power may be 
 ufurped, and pra<ftifed by art, fo as to im- 
 pofe upon many, yet as it requires great 
 pains and (kill, the examples of thofe who 
 fucceed in the attempt, are not many. 
 And as art, tho' it may imitate, can never 
 come up to nature j tho' it may put on 
 her femblance, can never be pofTeiTed of 
 her energy j it can hardly ever impofe on 
 the judicious, and the obferving. On this 
 account, whenever we fee thofe flrong 
 ftamps of truth made in nature's mint, the 
 
 coin
 
 94 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 coin pafies current, and the words are 
 taken for fterling. Where they are not 
 very obvious, we fufpect counterfeits ; and 
 where they are abfent, we fuppofe the 
 metal is bafe. 
 
 If this be fo, what muft neceflarily be 
 the confequence of the manner in which 
 our church fervice is generally performed? 
 Muft not truth itfelf pafs for falfhood, 
 when covered all over with her vail ? If 
 none of the natural criterions by which 
 fhe is diftinguimed appear, muft not all 
 pafs for fictitious ? How can a clergyman 
 hope to gain belief to what he utters, 
 when he utters it not in fuch a manner as 
 if he believed it himfelf ? This therefore 
 may be eafily confidered as the great fource 
 of irreligion ; nor would it be a very con- 
 fident aflertion to fay, that this defect in 
 the miniftry has made more infidels than 
 all the arts and fubtleties of the enemies 
 to religion. For as it muft be allowed 
 that the divine fervice is generally per- 
 formed in a flovenly and difagreeable, or 
 elfe in a cold and unaffecling manner, it 
 follows, that many of nicer tafte are kept 
 away thro' difguft from places of religious 
 
 worfliip,
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 95 
 
 worfhip, and they who continue to fre- 
 quent them may eafily be made the worfe 
 by it, but can hardly receive any benefit. 
 Their devotion can not be raifed, however 
 it may flag, by hearing prayers ill read > 
 nor will the doctrines from the pulpit ac- 
 quire new force or credit, by being deli- 
 vered in a lifelefs manner, and in unnatu- 
 ral tones. On the contrary, being ac- 
 cuftomed to fee nothing in the mode but 
 what is fictitious, men will habitually come 
 to think, the thing itfelf fo, and muft be 
 infenfibly led to confider the whole as a 
 matter of form, a mere human institution 
 to anfwer the purpofes of government. The 
 experience of mankind may be appealed 
 to upon this occafion, whether it is not 
 generally confefled in words, as well as 
 fhewn in practice, by thofe who vifit the 
 churches every Sunday, that they perform 
 this ceremony more out of decency and 
 example, than from any affiflance they 
 find there to devotion, or any inflruction 
 from the fermon. And indeed, were they 
 not to confefs it, the general coldnefs and 
 inattention, the levity in the behaviour of 
 fome, and drowfinefs even to profound 
 
 ileep
 
 96 BRITISH BOOK I, 
 
 fleep in others, necefTarily infufed by the 
 opiate of a dull monotony, would too 
 too plainly evince the truth of the obfer- 
 vation. * 
 
 That contrary effects would follow 
 from a contrary method, muft be feniibly 
 felt by all who have occaiionally heard the 
 fervice well performed, or a difcourfe well 
 delivered. The different impreffions 
 which they then made upon them muft 
 convince them of this truth. And indeed 
 it is fufficiently demon ft rated by the crowds 
 which flock to hear a preacher, whofe 
 natural talents for elocution have fet him 
 above the common run. 
 
 The ingenious author of the Spectator 
 has wrote a paper on the reading of the 
 liturgy, in fo clear and forcible a manner, 
 and it is fo appofite to the cafe in point, 
 that I am tempted to prefent part of it 
 immediately to the eyes of my reader in- 
 ftead of referring him to the book. 
 
 rj- c The well reading of the common 
 
 * In this cafe, what was before obferved of the laws 
 may be applied to religion. ' There are two forts of cor- 
 ' ruption, one when men do notobferve religion, the other 
 when they are corrupted by religion ; an incurable evil, 
 ' becaufe it is in the very remedy itfelf. 
 -{- Speft. vol. ii. N 1 47. 
 
 ' prayer
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 97 
 
 * prayer is of fo great importance, and fo 
 much neglected, that I take the liberty 
 c to offer to your confideration fome par- 
 c ticulars on that fubjecT: : and what more 
 c worthy your obfervation than this ? A 
 f thing fo publick, and of fo high confe- 
 f quence. It is indeed wonderful, that 
 e the frequent exercife of it mould not 
 c make the performers of that duty more 
 ' expert in it. This inability, as I con- 
 ' ceive, proceeds from the little care that 
 ' is taken of their reading while boys at 
 e fchool ; where when they are got into 
 ( Latin, they are looked upon as above 
 
 * Englifh, the reading of which is wholly 
 c neglected, or at leaft read to very little 
 ' purpofe, without any due obfervations 
 ' made to them of the proper accent, -and 
 ' manner of reading. By this means they 
 
 * have acquired fuch ill habits as will not 
 f ealily be removed. The only way that 
 
 * I know oP to remedy this, is to propofe 
 ' fome perfon of great ability that way, 
 ' as a pattern for them ; example being 
 ' moft effectual to convince the learned, 
 c as well as to inftruct the ignorant. 
 
 H You
 
 98 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 ' You muft know, fir, I have been a 
 c conftant frequenter of the fervice of the 
 ' church of England for above thefe four 
 ' years lafl pad, and till Sunday was feven- 
 ' night never difcovered to fo great a de- 
 ' gree, the excellency of the common 
 
 * prayer. When being at St. James's 
 
 * Garlick-hill church, I heard the. fervice 
 ' read fo diftinclly, fo emphatically, and 
 ' fo fervently, that it was next to an im- 
 ' poffibility to be unattentive. My eyes 
 ' and my thoughts could not wander as 
 
 * ufual, but were confined to my prayers : 
 ' I then confidered I addrefTed my- 
 ' felf to the Almighty, and not to a beau- 
 ' tiful face. And when I reflected on my 
 ' former performances of that duty, I 
 ' found I had run it over as a matter of 
 4 form, in comparifon to the manner in 
 
 * which I then difcharged it. My mind 
 c was really affected, and fervent wiflies 
 ' accompanied my words. The confeffipn 
 
 * was read with fuch a refigned humility, 
 ' the abfolution with fuch a comfortable 
 ' authority, the thankfgiving with fuch a 
 ' religious joy, as made me feel thofe af- 
 
 * fections of the mind in a manner I never 
 
 'did
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 99 
 
 ' did before. To remedy therefore the 
 ' grievance above complained of, I hum- 
 
 * bly propofe, that this excellent reader, 
 
 * upon the next, and every annual afTem- 
 
 * bly of the clergy of Sion-College, and 
 
 * all other conventions, mould read prayers 
 
 * before them. For then thofe that are 
 ' afraid of ftretching their mouths, and 
 ' fpoiling their foft voice, will learn to read 
 
 * with clearnefs, loudnefs, and ftrehgth. 
 c Others that affect a rakifh negligent air, 
 
 * by folding their arms, and lolling on 
 c their book, will be taught a decent be- 
 ' haviour, and comely erection of body. 
 f Thofe that read fo fail as if impatient 
 
 * of their work, may learn to fpeak de- 
 ' liberately. There is another fort of per- 
 ' fons, whom I call Pindarick readers, as 
 < being confined to no fet meafure ; thefe 
 c pronounce five or fix words with great 
 ' deliberation ,and the five or fix fubfequent 
 c ones with as great celerity : the firft 
 ' part of a fentence with a very exalted 
 ' voice, and the latter part with a fub- 
 ' miffive one : fome time again with one 
 ' fort of tone, and immediately after with 
 e a very different one. Thefe gentlemen 
 
 H 2 ' will
 
 TOO BRITISH BOOK T. 
 
 * will learn of my admired reader an even- 
 4 ncfs of voice and delivery. And all who 
 c are innocent of thefe affectations, but 
 ' read with fuch an indifference as if 
 1 they did not undcrftand the language, 
 
 * may then be informed of the art of read- 
 ' ing movingly, and fervently ; how to 
 c place the emphafis, and give the proper 
 c accent to ea'ch word, and how to vary 
 ' the voice according to the nature of the 
 ,' fentence.' 
 
 There can be no doubt that if prayers 
 were always read in the moving and fer- 
 .vent manner above defcribed, that there 
 would be much ftronger inducements to 
 go to church, and devotion would be much 
 promoted by it. But it is in his other of- 
 fice of preaching that the clergyman will 
 find the greateft occafion for ikill in ora- 
 tory. Here the whole field of morality, 
 as well as religion, is opened to him to 
 difplay his talents. The important truths 
 of both are to be made plain by him, and 
 enforced. In this point of view, were 
 he equal to the tnfk, he muft be confidered 
 as a member of the moft ufeful and moft 
 honourable order that ever exifted upon 
 
 earth*
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 101 
 earth. What advantage, were he but equal 
 in accomplishments, would he have over the 
 orators of old (who were always confider- 
 ed as of the firft rankjn the flate) in point 
 of dignity of fubjed;, power of moving 
 the paffions, and general utility. If the 
 art of perfuafion be allowed to be of more 
 force than either wit or knowlege to ac- 
 quire a fuperiority over others, and at the 
 fame time to conciliate their efteem and 
 love, in what a rank of pre-eminence 
 might not this body of men have ftood 
 over all other profeffions, had they only 
 applied themfelves to the ftudy of that art. 
 Whilft the negleft of it has probably been 
 one of the main caufes of the Contempt 
 into which the order is fallen. Nor is this 
 hard to be accounted for ; for what can. 
 be a greater fubjecl: of ridicule than to fee 
 people daily attempting what they are not 
 able to execute ? Or what can pofTefs qne 
 more flrongly that an art (however en- 
 titled) is merely mechanical, than when 
 it is every day feen performed in a me- 
 chanical manner: and it is obvious enough 
 
 o 
 
 that if the profeflion of holy orders comes 
 
 once to be confidered as a mechanical art, 
 
 H-3 it
 
 102 BRITISH BOOK I, 
 it will of courfe be confidered as below all 
 others. 
 
 How far the extraordinary abilities, and 
 perfection of fkill in the artifts may raife 
 even the meaner arts in the eftimation of 
 the world, and how much a deficiency 
 of talents, and imperfection in the profef- 
 fors, may degrade the nobleft, is a point 
 too obvious to be enlarged upon. The 
 common fenfe of mankind confers rank 
 and dignity on the feveral arts, and pro- 
 feflions, according as they contribute to 
 their benefit or delight. As the mind is 
 fuperior to the body, fuch as promote the 
 advantage of the former are to be pre- 
 ferred to fuch as have only the latter for 
 their object ; fuch as require intellectual 
 powers, to fuch as ftand in need only of 
 the mechanical ; and thofe profeilions 
 which contribute to the ufe and profit of 
 mankind, ftand before fuch as only pro- 
 mote their pleafure. But thofe in which 
 both are united, are clearly pre-eminent 
 over the reft, and naturally acquire a fu- 
 periority over each other according to the 
 feveral degrees of that union. This rule 
 is as invariable as that of common fenfe, 
 
 nor
 
 CiiAP.XV. EDUCATION. 103 
 
 nor can any of thefe arts and profeffions 
 lofe their natural rank, but in proportion as 
 they fail in anfwering their end j which 
 can only happen from the infufficiency of 
 the artifts, and profeflbrs. If we try the 
 profeflion of holy orders by this rule, we 
 mall find that it is evidently fuperior to all 
 others. It muft be allowed that the bulk 
 of mankind have not leifure to be philo- 
 fopherSj or to fee things in their caufes. 
 And yet the well-being of the ftatc de- 
 pends upon their actions being regulated 
 by the rules of improved reafon. They 
 muft therefore imbibe all their principles 
 of knowlege,as well as conduct in life, from 
 thofe who have opportunity and abilities 
 to enquire into the fources of the moral 
 duties, and the natural relations of things. 
 f- c But if to inform the underftanding, 
 c and regulate the will, is the moft lafting 
 
 * and difFufive benefit, there will not be 
 c found fo ufeful and excellent an infti- 
 4 tution as that of the chriflian prieft- 
 ' hood, which is now become the fcorn 
 
 * of fools. That a numerous order of men 
 ' mould be confecrated to the ftudy of the 
 
 * moft fublime and beneficial truths, with a 
 f Guard. N 130. 
 
 H 4 < delign
 
 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 * defign to propagate them by their dif- 
 
 * courfes and writings, to inform their fel- 
 4 low creatures of the being and attributes 
 
 * of the deity, to poffefs their minds with 
 
 * the fenfe of a future (late, and not only 
 ' to explain the nature of every virtue and 
 ' moral cluty, but likewife to perfuade 
 1 mankind to the practice of them by the 
 
 * moft powerful and engaging motives, is 
 ' a thing fo excellent and neceflary to 
 
 * the well-being of the world, that no 
 4 body but a modern free-thinker could 
 ' have the forehead, or folly, to turn it into 
 1 ridicule.' 
 
 But neither the fcorn of fools, nor the. 
 ridicule of free-thinkers, could in the 
 leaft afFect, or depreciate an inftitution fo 
 excellent in it's nature, fo absolutely ne- 
 ceflary to the welfare of mankind, if the 
 miniftry were really equal to the difcharge 
 of their office. Their chief end is to in- 
 form the understanding, and regulate the 
 will of others. The firft can not be done 
 unlefs their own ideas are conveyed into 
 the minds of others with perfpicuity and 
 force ; nor the laft, unlcis the paiiions of 
 men are wrought upon to excite them to 
 
 good
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 105 
 
 good works, and deter them from fuch 
 as are evil ; in as much as the paffions are 
 known to be the great movers to, or re- 
 ftrainers from action. Neither of which 
 can be done without fkill in oratory. 
 All other requifites to the prieilhood 
 without that, tho* pofleffed in the mod 
 eminent degree, are ufelefs to it's end. 
 This is the preacher's inftrument with 
 which he is to work, and without this 
 his knowlege and piety are of as little ufe 
 to the world, as the fkill of a painter 
 would be without pencil or colours, or 
 that of a mufician without the power of 
 conveying founds. PoflefTed of this, no 
 artift whatever is fo equal to the comple- 
 tion of his defigns ; for tho' the difficulty 
 of arriving at the end, be equal to it's uti- 
 lity, and grandeur, and confequently be- 
 yond that of all others -, yet the means 
 are proportioned, and adequate to the 
 mighty work. For who upon earth is 
 equal in faculty and powers to the man, in 
 whom are united the true philofopher, 
 the chriftian hero, and the potent orator ? 
 Or how can fuch precepts fail of having 
 their defired effecl:, which are founded 
 
 on
 
 io6 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 on reafon, fupported by revelation, con- 
 firmed by the living example of the 
 preacher, and imprefled on the yielding 
 mind by the irrefiftible charms of elo- 
 quence ? An union fo powerful, that what 
 Agamemnon faid in regard to the wife 
 Neftor of the deftrudtion of Troy, may 
 with much more truth and propriety be 
 applied in this cafe, that were there but 
 nine fuch men at the head of the church, 
 the bulwarks of vice would foon be de- 
 ftroyed, and the whole ftate of corruption 
 perifh. 
 
 Mr. Addifon in fpeaking upon this fub- 
 ject, has the following paflage. * c The 
 ' light in which thefe points mould be 
 c expofed to the view of one who is pre- 
 ' judiced againfl the names, religion, 
 
 * church, prieft, and the like, is, to con- 
 
 * fider the clergy as fo many philofophers, 
 { the churches as fchools, and their fer- 
 
 * mons as lectures, for the information 
 ' and improvement of the audience. How 
 would the heart of Socrates or Tully 
 
 * have rejoyced, had they lived in a na- 
 
 * Guard. Numb. 130. 
 
 ' tion -
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 107 
 
 < tion, where the law had made provifion 
 c for philofophers, to read leftures of mo- 
 c rality and theology every feventh day, 
 
 * in feveral thoufands of fchools erected at 
 1 the publick charge throughout the whole 
 ' country ; at which lectures all ranks, and 
 c fexes, without diftinction, were obliged 
 
 * to be prefent, for their general improve- 
 e ment? And what wicked wretches would 
 
 * they think thofe men, who mould en- 
 c deavour to defeat the purpofe of fo divine 
 ' an inftitution?' 
 
 With all due deference to the judge- 
 ment of fo great a man, I think he has 
 here miftaken the point, and what he has 
 advanced would have had much more 
 force had he fubftituted the word orators, 
 in the room of philofophers ; and this 
 would probably have been the cafe, could 
 his afTertion have been warranted by prac- 
 tice. By orators, I mean fuch as they 
 were of old, when none were thought 
 worthy of that title but thofe who were 
 at the fame time philofophers *. For it 
 
 * Fueruntque hzc ut Cicero apertiffime colligit, quem- 
 admodum junfta natura, fie officio quoque copulata: ut 
 iidem fapientej atque eloquentes Kaberentur. 
 
 Quinftil. lib. i. 
 
 can
 
 io8 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 can hardly be expected that philofophy 
 alone could do more with us, than it did 
 with the antients. That it fhould be more 
 powerful when fet to work by mercenary 
 views, than when actuated by the nobler 
 principle of fame. Or to confider it in 
 regard to the times when it became mer- 
 cenary amongft them, that it's profefibrs 
 fhould be more excellent with us, where 
 their ftipends are fixed, and fettled with- 
 out any reference to their abilities, than 
 with them, where their whole income and 
 emoluments depended upon their fkill in 
 the art which they profeiTed. 
 
 The feparation of philofophy from ora- 
 tory was the main caufe that both were in 
 a ihort time deftroyed. The union of the 
 foul and body are not more neceffary for 
 any ufeful purpofe in life, than the union 
 of oratory and philofophy for their mutual 
 welfare. Whilft the philofophers were 
 bufy in fearching after the knowlege of 
 things, they did not coniider what an in- 
 timate connection there was between ideas 
 and words ; without a right ufe of which 
 they could neither make any fure progrefs 
 themfelves in fcience, nor at all commu- 
 nicate
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 109 
 
 nicate their thoughts to others. Accord- 
 ingly we find that after the feparation, an 
 infinite variety of feels arofe, each of which 
 vain-glorioufly boa (led that they were pof- 
 feffed of the only true philofophy 5 whilfl 
 in fac"l almoft all their difputes were 
 merely about words -f- ; nor was the con- 
 fufion at Babel greater, occafioned by the 
 variety of tongues, than was the confufion 
 of knowlege amongfl thefe different feels, 
 thro' their want of precifion in language. 
 Oratory and philofophy when united, like 
 bullion flamped in the mint, occafioned 
 a brifk and free circulation thro' the whole 
 commonwealth of fcience j when fepa- 
 rated, they were to be confidered as coin 
 hoarded by mifers, or melted down into 
 pieces of ornamental plate. However rich 
 private perfons might think themfelves in 
 comparifon of others, yet whilfl the flate 
 was poor, there could be but little fecurity 
 for the prefervation of the wealth, amafTed 
 by individuals, as the members muft ne- 
 ceffarily be involved in the deflruction of 
 the whole. 
 
 f- Verbi enim controverfin jam diu torqaet Grxculos, 
 homines contentionis cupidiores quam veritatis. 
 
 Cic. de orat. 1. i. 
 
 This
 
 no BRITISH BOOK I. 
 This reparation was no lefs hurtful to 
 the ftate itfelf, than to knowlege. The 
 natural confequence of it was, that their 
 wife men were no longer orators, their 
 orators were no longer wife. When 
 men of the greateft abilities, and integrity, 
 who were the beft qualified to fupport 
 and invigorate the {late, retired from pub- 
 lick bufinefs, and pafled their lives in the 
 {hades of privacy and contemplation, their 
 place was of courfe fupplied by thofe of 
 meaner talents and worfe difpofitions. As 
 thefe had not virtue for their end, there 
 was no occafion for wifdom as the means. 
 Their ends being altogether felfifh, cun- 
 ning and the art of humouring and flat- 
 tering the capricious multitude, were the 
 fureft means to attain them. Thus cor- 
 ruption and folly eafily carried all before 
 them, when wifdom and virtue had quit- 
 ted the field. The foul of oratory was 
 fled, and only the ufelefs corpfe remain- 
 ed, preferved and embalmed like the 
 Egyptian mummies, by the care of rhe- 
 toricians. Nor could philofophy long 
 furvive it ; for how could fhe hope to 
 keep her ground, when fhe had parted 
 
 with
 
 CHAP.XV. EDUCATION, in 
 
 with her arms of defence, and pulled 
 down her own enclofures. Whilft me 
 was united with eloquence, a fenfe of 
 fhame kept out all pretenders, and none 
 but fuch as fpoke with fkill, with accura- 
 cy, clearnefs and elegance, could be heard 
 without marks of fcorn and contempt, 
 upon any of the topicks of philofophy. 
 But when philofophy grew ambitious, 
 when me claimed an independent throne, 
 and difdained all alliance with oratory, me 
 indeed greatly increafed the number of 
 her fubje&s, but they were fuch as were 
 far from adding to her power. When 
 eloquence was defpifed, all men were 
 at liberty to fpeak their thoughts pub- 
 lickly in their own manner j ; this 
 opened the mouths of multitudes of fools, 
 who all thought they had an equal right, 
 as rational beings, to harangue upon the 
 fubjects of right reafon, and true philo- 
 fophy. Nor could their pretenlions to 
 thefe be eafily fet afide, when the bulk 
 
 J Nunc autem quse velut propria philofophise afle- 
 runtur paflim traftamus omnes. Quis enim non de jufto, 
 aequo, ac bono, modo non & vir peflimus loquitur ? Quis 
 non etiam rufticorum aliqua de caufis naturalibus qux- 
 rit ? Quinft. 
 
 of
 
 U2 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 of mankind were to be their judges, 
 equally ignorant with themfelves, and 
 equally interefted in the claim. Befides, 
 their pretenfions to philofophy could only 
 be .determined in this cafe by the intel- 
 lectual faculty, which is far from being 
 predominant in the multitude ; whereas 
 the fenfes bore the greateft fway in judging 
 about eloquence, andconfequentlyall man- 
 kind were capable of pronouncing with 
 tolerable exadtnefs about the merit of it's 
 profeflbrs . Whilft therefore philofophy 
 was guarded (if I may be allowed the ex- 
 preffion) by the priefthood of oratory, the 
 profane and the vulgar were kept out of 
 her fancluary. Her doctrines were ex- 
 plained only by fuch as had ftudied and 
 underflood them ; knowlege in thofe be- 
 ing as neceflary to the orator as fkill in 
 fpeaking ; for the latter would be vain 
 and ufelefs without the former ||. She 
 
 was 
 
 Nunquam de bono oratore, aut non bono, doh's 
 hominibus cum populo diffentio fuit. Cic. in Brut, 
 n. 185. 
 
 || Etenim ex rerum cognitione efflorefcat, & redundet 
 oportet oratio ; qua? nifi fubeil res ab oratore percepta, 
 cognita, inancm quandam habet elocutionem, & pene 
 
 pnerilem.
 
 CHAP.XV. EDUCATION. 113 
 
 was therefore always {hewn in her true 
 light, and all appeared regular and beau- 
 tiful. But when this order was abolifhed, 
 all men laid claim to the difcharge of 
 the facred office ; the ignorant and vain, 
 the loud and the pretending, were the 
 foremoft in afTuming the title. Her fences 
 were deftroyed by the multitude of pre- 
 tenders, and her holy ground trampled 
 by unhallowed feet. Her mazes and 
 labyrinths were broken down by fuch as 
 had not the clue to guide them thro' the 
 regular confufion, and in a inort time all 
 was reduced to anarchy and chaos. Her 
 doctrines, formerly fo clear and beautiful 
 when fhewn by wifdom in the light of 
 truth, were now darkened by ignorance 
 and diftorted by falmood. The words of 
 knowlege were contaminated by the 
 mouths of fools, and the precepts of vir- 
 tue corrupted by the tongues of the vi- 
 cious. Mcannefs joined with arrogance, 
 and vanity with weaknefs in the profeilbrs, 
 
 puerilem. Dicendi enim virtus, nifi ei qui dicit, ea de 
 quibusdicit, percepta fint, extare non pott-it. 
 
 Hzc autem oratio, fi res non fubelt ab oratore per- 
 cepta & cognita, aut nulla fit necefle elt, aut omnium 
 irrifione ludatur. Cic. de orat. lib. i. 
 
 I foon
 
 i J4 BRITISH" BOOK I. 
 foon brought the profefiion itfelf into 
 contempt. Appearance with them fup- 
 plied the place of reality, and formoffub- 
 flance. 
 
 f- * For it was not by the means of vir- 
 ' tue, or knowlege, that they laboured to 
 f be thought philofophers, but they made 
 ? ufe of a folemn feverity of countenance, 
 * and a drefs different from the reft of the 
 c world, as coverings to the vileft morals.' 
 
 It may be worth the reader's while to 
 obferve, how exadtly this defcription of 
 thofe pretended philofophers, who brought 
 true philofophy into contempt, and were 
 the means of it's deftruclion, agrees with 
 thofe hypocritical fanaticks in the reign of 
 Charles the firft, who brought an odium 
 and difgrace on religion, and for a time 
 deftroved both that and the Hate. 
 
 J 
 
 If therefore oratory was fo necefTary to 
 the fupport of philofophy, how much 
 more muft it be to that of religion ? To 
 enter into a minute difquifition of this 
 
 f Non enim virtute ac ftudiis ut haberentur philofophi, 
 Inborabant ; fed vakum, .v trilutiam. & diffentientem a 
 ca-teris habitum, peffimis rooribus pnetendcbant. Quin^. 
 lib. i. 
 
 point
 
 CHAP. X^. EDUCATION. 115 
 
 point would take up too much time, and 
 perhaps unneceflarily. It will be fuffici- 
 ent to confider the nature of the ends pro- 
 pofed by the two, and the necefiity as well 
 as proportion of the means will appear of 
 courfe. The end of the antient philofo- 
 pher was, to inform the understanding, 
 and thro' that to regulate the will. The 
 end of the chriftian philofopher is, not 
 only to inform the understanding, but to 
 purge and rectify the heart, and by means 
 of the emotions and feelings of that, to 
 regulate the will. Hence it is manifefl, 
 that in the objecl: common to philofophy, 
 and religion, the neceflity and ufe of ora- 
 tory is the fame ; but in regard to the 
 other objecl: of religion diftinct from phi- 
 lofophy, it has alfo a diftincT: neceffity for, 
 and a different ufe of that art. To the 
 firfl:, only a partial application of it is re- 
 quired, whilSt the laft demands it's full 
 powers in their largeSt extent. Where 
 the underftanding alone is the objecl, 
 Quinclilian does not hefitate to give the 
 firSt place to oratory. * ' If it be a perfon's 
 I 2 ' pro- 
 
 * An fi frequentiffime de juftitia, fortitudine, tempe- 
 
 tantia.
 
 n6 BRITISH* BOOK I. 
 
 c province frequently to fpeak upon the 
 c fubjects of juflice, fortitude, temperance, 
 c and the other moral virtues, [and there 
 c can fcarce be a caufe found in which 
 t fome queftions relative to thefe does not 
 1 arife] if all thefe are, to be laid open, 
 c and difplayed only by invention and elo- 
 c cution, mall it be doubted wherever the 
 e ftrength of genius, and fluency of fpeech 
 e are necefTary, whether the qualifications 
 * of an orator are there the principal ?' But 
 where the queftion is about moving the 
 heart, and exciting the paflions, there he 
 {hews that oratory reigns alone, and that 
 there the moft vigorous of her powers are 
 to be exerted, -f- ' In publick orations 
 
 ' elo- 
 
 rantia, caeterifque fimilibus fit difierendum, & adeo, ut 
 vix uila poifit caufa reperiri in quam non aliqua queltio 
 ex his incidat, eaque omnia inventione atque elocutions 
 iint explicanda, dubitabitur ubicunque vis ingenii, &- co- 
 pia dicendi poftulatur, ibi partes oratoris effe prscipuas ? 
 -f- Habet autem pronunciatio miram quandamin ora- 
 tionibus vim ac poteitatem ; neque enim tarn refert qua- 
 lia fmt qua: intra nofraetipfos compofuimus, quam quo- 
 modo efferantur; nam ita quifque ut audit movetur. 
 Quare neque probatio ulla, quae modo venit ab oratore, 
 tarn iirma eft, ut non perdat vires fuas nifi adjuvetur, a/Te- 
 veratione dicentis. Affeftus omnes languelcant necefi"u 
 eft, nifi voce, vultu, totius prope habitu corporis inardei- 
 cant. Nam cum haec omnia fecerimus, felices, fi tamen 
 noftrum ilium ignem judex conceperit: ne dum eum fupini 
 
 Iccurique
 
 CHAP.XV. EDUCATION. 117 
 c elocution has a wonderful power and 
 1 efficacy. For the quality of our com- 
 ' portions is not of fo great moment, as 
 ' the manner in which they are delivered ; 
 
 * becaufe every hearer is affected accord- 
 c ing to his own fenfations. On which 
 ' account, the ftrongeft argument that an 
 
 * orator can produce, will lofe it's effect, if 
 ' not fupported by an emphatical delivery. 
 c For all the paffions neceffarily droop, if 
 ' they are not inflamed by the tone of 
 c voice, the turn of countenance, and in- 
 1 deed the carnage of the wholebody. And 
 happy are we when we have accom- 
 plimed all this, if even then our judge 
 
 fecuriquemoveamus non & ipfe noftra ofcitatione folvatur. 
 Documento funt vel fcenici adores, qui & optimis poe- 
 tarum tantum adjiciunt gratis, ut nos infinite magis 
 cadem ilia audita quam lecta deleclent, &viliffimis etiam 
 quibufdam impetrent aures ; ut quibus nullus eft in bib- 
 liothecis locus, fit etiam frequens in theatris. Quod fiin 
 rebus quas fidas efle fcimus & inanes, tantum pronuncia- 
 tio poteft, ut iram, lacryma?,follicitudinem afferat, qu in- 
 to plus valeant necefle eft, ubi& credimus ? Equidem vcl 
 mediocrem orationem commendatam viribus aftionis, 
 affirmaverim plus habituram e(Te momenti, quam optimam 
 eadem ilia deftitutam. S^iquidem & Demofthenes quid 
 eflet in toto dicendi opere prhimm, interrogatus, pronun- 
 ciationi palmam dedit, eidemque fecundum, ac tertium 
 locum, donee ab eo quncri defmerent: ut earn videri 
 poflct non praccipuam, fed folam judicafle. 
 
 13' < fhall
 
 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 e /hall catch our warmth ; by no means 
 can we affect him with a carelefs indiffe- 
 1 rence, but he muft neceffarily fink and 
 4 be diiTolved in our drowfmefs. Even the 
 ( actors upon the ftage afford an excellent 
 e example of this, who add fo much grace 
 1 to the productions of our beft poets, that 
 ' in the hearing, they give us infinitely 
 c greater pleafure than in the reading ; 
 < and gain pur attention even to the vileft 
 
 * fcribblers : fo that thofe pieces {hall fre- 
 c quently bring a crowded audience, which 
 
 * are not allowed a place in a library. 
 f But if in cafes which we know to be 
 ( feigned, and without foundation, elocu- 
 c tion alone is of fuch efficacy, as to ex- 
 cite anger, fears, anxiety ; how greatly 
 e muft it's power be increafed when we 
 ' believe it to be founded in truth ? I ihallj 
 ' indeed, make no fcruple to affirm, that 
 c but a very moderate oration recom- 
 ' mended by the powers of action, will be 
 e of greater weight, than the beft compo^ 
 c fition without it. On which account 
 f Demofthenes being aiked, what in the 
 I whole field of oratory deferved the firft
 
 CMAP.XV. EDUCATION. 119 
 c place, gave it to -f- elocution ; as alfo the 
 ' fecond, and the third, till the enquiry 
 ' ceafed. By which he gave us to under- 
 c ftand, that he judged this not to be the 
 e principal, but the only requifite.' 
 
 If the appearance of being firmly per- 
 fuaded themfelves of the truth of the opi- 
 nions which they endeavoured to propa- 
 gate, was thought fo neceffary to the hea- 
 then, how much more muft it be to the 
 chriftian philofophers, when the leaft fuf- 
 picion induced of the truth of their doc- 
 trines muft not only deftroy their force, 
 but produce effects directly oppofite to 
 their intent. The antients were fo con- 
 vinced of this, that they preferved the ap- 
 pearance of truth, when the reality was 
 gone, and the form remained long after 
 the fubftance had perifhed. What {hall 
 we fay then to our modern feet, who far 
 from attempting to keep up this necefiary 
 femblance, are contented to deliver the 
 fublimeft truths in a fictitious manner ? 
 
 f The meaning of this word is thus defined by Cicero. 
 Pronunciatio eft vocis, & vultus, & geilus moderatiocum 
 venuftate. That is, Elocution is the graceful manage- 
 ment of the voice, countenance, and ^eiture. 
 
 1 4 Or
 
 3?o BR'J^IS'H BOOK I. 
 Or (hall we wonder when we confuier, 
 that it is by appearance that the judge- 
 ments of the world are mod influenced, 
 that the fhew and icmblance of truth 
 fhould in one cafe make profelytes to falfe- 
 hood, and in the other, that the mew and 
 femblance of fiction mould make apoflates 
 from truth ? 
 
 If the powers of eloquence, and action, 
 were fo abfolutely neceffary to the hea- 
 then orator to accomplish his point in civil 
 matters, it would be only a wafte of time, 
 and a fruitlefs repetition, to prove how 
 much more necerTHry it is to a chriftian 
 orator, to bring about the great ends of re- 
 ligion. What Cicero fays of the requi- 
 fites to the difcharge of that office, is ex- 
 actly defcriptive of the function of a cler- 
 gyman, -j- < To inftruct is his duty, to 
 delight gives him honour, and to move 
 4 the paflions is necefTary.' And his mort 
 definition of the beft and worft orator, 
 
 will fhew us to which clafs ours are to be 
 
 
 
 f Docere debitum eft, deleclare honorarium, pcrmo- 
 ;.ecefiariam. 
 
 referred.
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 121 
 referred. * * He is the heft orator, who 
 1 by the powers of elocution both inftrufts, 
 1 and delights, and moves his auditory. 
 1 From whence it is plain, that he who is 
 * moft unlike the beft, is the worft.' 
 
 But however near by nature the alli- 
 ance betweeen oratory and philofophy 
 might be, yet it depended intirely upon, 
 man to fix, or deftroy their union. As the 
 maintaining fuch an union required great 
 pains, labour, and attention, and as there 
 was no particular profeffion of men to 
 whom it was abfolutely neceflary, it is 
 eafy to fee, that to feparate them was no 
 difficult tafk. Ambition, and a fpirit of 
 rivalmip, might foon engage the profeffors 
 of the two arts in difputes about priority. 
 The philofopher, who enjoyed the mental 
 powers in a more perfed: degree than 
 ufual, and who might be endowed with 
 an uncommon depth of penetration in his 
 purfuits after knowlege and truth, though 
 perhaps without any of the natural requi- 
 fites to make him mine as an orator, 
 
 * Optimus eft orator, qni dicendo animos audientium 
 & docet, & deleftat, & permovet. Ex quo perfpicuum eft, 
 <}uod optimo diiliinillimum, id e/Te deterrimum. 
 
 would
 
 122 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 would of courfe affect to defpife talents 
 which he did not poffefs, and depreciate 
 an art which he looked upon as much in- 
 ferior to his own, and which yet had ra- 
 ther a fuperior rank in the eftimation of 
 the world. The example of the chief 
 would foon be followed by all his difciples. 
 Whilft on the other fide, the orator, fur- 
 nifhed by the liberal hand of nature with 
 uncommon powers of perfuafion, and hav- 
 ing improved thefe by the rules of his own 
 art, would find nothing wanting to ac- 
 complim his ends ; and therefore would 
 gladly decry the painful and laborious dif- 
 quifitions of philofophy -f-, and defpife it's 
 contemplative votaries as unfit for action, 
 and as ufelefs drones in fociety. The war 
 once declared between the chiefs, it would 
 betoomuchtheintereft of the partifans ftill 
 to keep it a-foot, and blow up the coals 
 of difcord, ever to fuffer a reconcilement. 
 Of this Cicero gives the following ac- 
 count. * c The antients down to the 
 
 * time 
 
 f Diffitultatis patrocinia praeteximus fegnkiEe. Quinft. 
 lib. i. 
 
 * Namque [ut ante dixi] veteres ill! ufque ad Socra^ 
 tern, omnem omnium rsrum quze ad mores hominum.
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 123 
 
 { time of Socrates always joined a perfect 
 f knowlege of morality, of all that be- 
 longed to the conduct of private life, as 
 c well as the management of publick af- 
 
 * fairs, to ikill in oratory. But at that 
 c time, the eloquent and the learned being 
 c divided into different fects by Socrates, 
 and this distinction being afterwards kept 
 ' up by all his difciples, the philofophers 
 c and orators held each other in mutual 
 
 * contempt.' And this war was ever after 
 carried on with great obftinacy and ani- 
 mofity on either fide, till it ended in the 
 ruin of both parties. How unnatural and 
 impolitick the rupture was, the event 
 {hewed. And the neceffity of the union 
 of thefe two arts for their common fup- 
 port, could not be proved more clearly 
 than by the very manner in which the 
 conteft was managed. The orator ancl 
 philofopher were mutually obliged to have 
 recourfe to each other's arms, both for de- 
 fence and annoyance. It was whimficaj 
 enough to fee one fide ufing all the figures 
 
 qua2 ad vitam, qure ad rempublicam pertinebant, cogni^ 
 tionem & fcientiam cum dicendi ratione jungebant : pof- 
 tea diflbciati [ut expofuij a Socrate diferti a doftis, & 
 deinceps a Socraticis item omnibus, philofophi eloquen- 
 tiam defpecerunt, oratores fapientiam., Cic. deorat. 1. 3. 
 
 of
 
 I2 4 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 of rhetorick in order to depreciate ora- 
 tory || , and the other employing max- 
 ims taken from the deeped rejearches 
 into truth, to run down philofophy. 
 However, the pride, the paflions, and 
 intereded views of the mercenary pro- 
 feflbrs of each art became fo far engaged 
 in the difpute, that the breach was daily 
 widened j and tho' a few were wife 
 enough to keep clear of the quarrel, and 
 borrow freely from both fides, yet this 
 was only uniting the two arts in their own 
 perfons, and to ferve their own purpofes, 
 but a general reunion was rendered im-* 
 practicable. Nothing contributed fo much 
 to this, as a want of fome profeffion 
 amongd the antients, to which an union 
 of thefe was abfolutely necefTary. But if 
 we look into the prefent times, we (hall 
 
 || Multi erant przterea prsclari in philofophia, & no- 
 biles, a quibus omnibus una pene repelli voce oratorem 
 agubernaculiscivitatum, excludi ab omni do&rina, re- 
 rumque, majorum fcientia, ac tantum in judicia, & con- 
 cinuculas, tanquam in aliquod piftrinum, detrudi & corn.- 
 pingi videbam. Sed ego neque illis afTentiebar, neque 
 harum difputationum inventori, & principi longe omnium 
 in dicendo graviffimo, & eloquentiflimo, Platoni, cujus 
 turn Athenis cumCarneade diligentius legi Gorgiam: quo 
 in libro, hoc maxime admirabar Platonem, quod mihi in 
 cratoribus irridendis ipfe effc orator fummus videbatur. 
 Cic.xieorat. lib. i. 
 
 quickly
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 125 
 quickly fee that the cafe is different. The 
 profeffion amongft us which is foremofl in 
 point of rank, utility, and number, evi- 
 dently requires it. It would be hard to 
 fay, whether philofophy or oratory be 
 moft neceflary to our priefthood, as the 
 one would be ufelefs without the other. 
 Without knowlege, eloquence would be 
 but an empty found ; without eloquence, 
 knowlege can never be {hewn in it's 
 true light J. The long difpute be- 
 tween thefe two, was well determined 
 by Cicero in the following manner. 
 f- ' When there is occalion, (as it often 
 ' happens) to fpeak concerning the im- 
 * mortal gods, to treat of piety, of con- 
 
 
 
 J Ut enim hominis decus ingenium, fie ingenii ipfius 
 lumen eft eloquentia. Cic. de orat. 
 
 -f- Etenim cum illi in dicendo inciderint loci [quod 
 perfepe evenit] ut de diis immortalibus, de pietate, de 
 concordia, de amicitia, de communi civium, de hominum, 
 de gentium jure, de aequitate, de temperantia, de mag- 
 nitudine animi, de omni virtutis genere fit dicendum ; 
 clamabunt, credo, omnia gymnafia, atque omnes philo- 
 fophorum fchola?, fua ha;c effe omnia propria ; nihil 
 omnino ad oratorem pertinere. Quibus ego, ut de his 
 rebus omnibus in angulis, confumendi otii caufa, difle- 
 rant, cum conceflero, illud tamen oratori tribuam, & 
 dabo, ut eadem, de quibus illi tenui quodam exfangui- 
 que lermone difputant, hie cum omni gravitate & jucun- 
 ditatc explicet. Cic, de orat. lib. i . 
 
 ' cord,
 
 126 R I r / S H BOOK I, 
 ' cord, of friendfhip ; of the common 
 
 * rights of citizens, of men, and nations j 
 'of equity, temperance, magnanimity, 
 
 * and every kind of virtue : I fuppofe all 
 ' the academies and fchools of philofo- 
 e phy will cry out, that all fubjects of this 
 
 * kind are their property, and do not at 
 ' all belong to the orator j to whom when 
 
 * I allow, that they /hall have the liberty 
 ' of haranguing in every corner, to em- 
 
 * ploy their idle time, yet I mall make no 
 ' fcruple to determine, that it is peculiarly 
 ' the orator's province, to explain thele 
 c fubjects with dignity, and pleafure to his 
 4 hearers, concerning which thole men 
 c hold formal difputations in a lean and 
 c lifelefs difcourfe/ Can there be a more 
 accurate defcription of the perfect dif- 
 charge of the function of the chriftian 
 priefthood ? To this order of men there- 
 fore, a re-union of thefe arts is not only 
 necefiary, but there are the ilrongeft mo- 
 tives to encourage the attempt. All the 
 means requifite to carry oratory to it's 
 higheft pitch, are furnifhed to them in a 
 more liberal manner than they ever were 
 to any other profefiion. Let us fee what 
 
 the?
 
 .CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 127 
 
 the moft eminent writers upon the fubjecl: 
 required to conftitute their perfect orators, 
 and we (hall find them all included in the 
 qualifications neceiTary to holy orders. 
 One of the firft requites laid down by 
 Cicero is, that he ilaould be a *good man. 
 And Qu_iii(5lilian does not fcruple to fay, 
 that none but a -f-good man can be a per- 
 fect orator. This opinion is founded in 
 the reafon and nature of things. For as 
 no one can deierve the name of an orator 
 who does not ufe his talents in the caufe 
 of virtue, and as the perfection of elo- 
 quence confifts in fpeaking from the heart, 
 J none but a good man can fpeak feelingly 
 about that which is good. In whom 
 therefore is this qualification fo likely to 
 be found, as in that clafs of men, whofe 
 
 * Si intdligam poffe ad fummos pervenire, non folum 
 hortabor ut elaboret, fed etiam fi vir quoque mihi bonus 
 videbitur efle, obfecrabo. Cic. de orat. 1. 2. 
 
 f Oratorem autem inftituimns ilium perfeflum, qui 
 efle nifi vir bonus non poteft : ideoque non dicendi modo 
 eximiam in eo facultatem, fed omnes animi virtutes cxigi- 
 mus. 
 
 J Prodit enim fe, quamlibet cuftodiatur, flmulatio: 
 nee unquam tanta fuerit eloquendi facultas, ut non titubet, 
 ac hxreat, quoties ab animo verba difTentiunt. Vir au- 
 tem malus aliud dicat necefle eft, quam fentiat. Bonos 
 nunquam honeftus fermo deficiet. Quinft. lib. 12. 
 
 facred
 
 128 BRITISH BOOK 1. 
 facred order obliges them to a greater pu- 
 rity of morals, and fanclity of life, than 
 the reft of mankind ? j The next things 
 required are, || wifdom, and knowkge, in 
 all affairs divine and human. To whom 
 are thefe fo eflentially neceflary, as to thofe 
 whofe office it is to inftruft mankind in 
 their duty towards God, and towards man? 
 The power of -f- perfuafion and moving 
 the paffions, is the next talent required, 
 without which all others are vain. And 
 who can have more occafion for this than 
 
 J Evolvendi penitus auftores qui de virtute prsecipi- 
 unt, ut oratoris vita cum fcientia divinarum rerum fit, 
 humanarumque conjundta. 
 
 || Sicut enim hare vis, quae fcientiam complexa rerum, 
 fenia mentis & confilia fie verbis explicet, ut eos qui audi- 
 ant, quocunque incubuerit, poffit impellcre ; quac quo 
 major eft vis, hoc eft magis cum probit^te jungenda, fum- 
 maque prudentia : quarum virtutum expertibus, fi dicendi 
 copiam tradiderimus, non eos quidem oratores eftcceri- 
 raus, fed furentibus quasdam arma dederimus. De orat. 
 lib i. 
 
 Oratorem autem nifi qui fapiens efiet efle neminem. 
 F.quidem omnia, quas pertinent ad ufum civium, morem 
 hominum, quae verfantur in confuetudine vitas, in n.tione 
 reipublicae, inhac focietate civili, in fenfu hominum com- 
 muni, in natura, in mcribus, comprehendenda efle ora- 
 tori puto. Ib. 1. 2. 
 
 f Orator eft, qui accommodate adperfuadendum pof- 
 fit dicere. Omnis vis ratioque dicendi, in eorum, qui 
 aodiunt, mentibus aut fedandis, aut excitajidis expromen- 
 da eft. Deorat. 1. i. 
 
 he,
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 129 
 
 he, whofe bufinefs it is to prevail upon 
 fenfual men not to indulge themfelves in 
 fenfual gratifications ; and to perfuade the 
 eager fcnd fhort-fighted, to forego a pre- 
 fent and near advantage for one which is 
 at a diftance and out of their fight ? Or 
 how can he difcharge his duty of regulat- 
 ing the paffions, without having a power 
 and command over thofepaffions? In fhort, 
 every thing which regards either the end 
 or the means, the office or the talents, of 
 a perfect orator, will be found in the moft 
 exact and circumftantial manner to be in- 
 cluded in the proper difcharge of the pro- 
 feffion of holy orders. Let the following 
 paflages be "applied to that, and fee how 
 perfectly they are fuited to it. 
 
 J < Tis the orator's part to give advice 
 c upon the moft important affairs, and to 
 ' deliver his fentiments with clearnefs and 
 
 J Hujus eft, in dando confilia de maximls rebus, cum 
 diguitate explicata fententia ; ejufdem & languentis populi 
 incitatio, & effraenati moderatio. Eadem facultate fraus 
 hominum ad perniciem, & integritas ad falutem vocatur. 
 Quis cohortari ad virtutera ardentius, quis a vitiis acrius 
 revocare ? Quis vituperare improbos afperius, quislaudare 
 bonos ornatius ? Quis cupiditatem vehementius frangere 
 accufando poteft, quis maerorem kvare mitius confo- 
 lando? Deorat, 1. 2. 
 
 K ' dignity.
 
 130 B.R ir IS H BOOK!. 
 
 ' dignity. 'Tis his to rouze people from 
 
 * languor, and to reftrain the impetuous 
 ' within due bounds. 'Tis his to pafs fen- 
 ' tence of deftruction on falfhood, and of 
 c fafety on truth. Who with more ardour 
 ' than he can inflame men to virtue, who 
 { with more force can recall them from 
 ' vice ? Who has more power to brand the 
 ' wicked with diigrace, who can better 
 
 * adorn the good with praife ? Who has 
 ' more fkill in curbing headftrong defire, 
 ' who can more gently adminifter the 
 * balm of comfort to the afflicted ?' 
 
 * Eloquence treats of the duties of life. 
 
 * Every one applies to himfelf what he 
 hears, and our minds attend with moft 
 ' eafe to points in whick they have fome 
 ' concern.' 
 
 f* It is the peculiar property of an orator 
 ' to be mafter of a grave and polifhed 
 
 * flyle, adapted to the fenfes and under- 
 
 * landings of his hearers.' 
 
 Would not one imagine that this picture 
 
 * Omnis eloquentia circa opera vitae eft, ad fe refert 
 quifque qua; audit, id facillime accipiuut animi quod ag- 
 nofcunt. Quind. 1. 8. dc orat. 1. i. 
 
 f- Hoc enim eft propriuro oratoris, quod faepejam dixi, 
 oratio gravis, & ornata, & hominum fenfibus, ac inentibus 
 accomodata. 
 
 was
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 13* 
 
 was drawn from the pulpit, and could be- 
 long to nothing but the office of a good 
 preacher? Yet the following pailage is ftill 
 more immediately applicable to it. * I 
 c lay it down as a maxim, that on the 
 
 * fkill and wifdom of a complete ora- 
 
 * tor, not only his own perfonal dignity, 
 f but the welfare of many individuals, and 
 e the fafety of the whole flate in a great 
 ' meafure depend.' 
 
 Thefe defcriptions of perfect oratory were 
 not drawn from the life, or what really 
 did exift, but from an -\- image formed 
 in the minds of the writers, and which 
 might exift. That it might exift, Cicero 
 feems to be clearly of opinion, when he 
 puts a reafon into the mouth of Antonius 
 why it had not then appeared. || ' If 
 * that be difficult for us to obtain, becaufe 
 c before we are well inftructed in the art 
 
 * Sic enim ftatuo, perfe&i oratoris moderatione, 8c fa- 
 pientia, non folum ipnus dignitatem, fed privatomm plu- 
 rimorum, & univerfe reipublic'aefalutem maxima contineri. 
 
 f Ego enim quid defiderem, ndn quid viderim difputo : 
 redeoqoe ad illam Platonis, de qua dixeram, r^i formani 
 & fpeciem, quam etfi non cernimus, tamen animo tenere 
 pofiumus Cic. de orat. 
 
 || Id fi eft difficile nobis, quod antequam ad dicendutn 
 ingreffi fimus, obruimur ambitione & faro, fit tamen in re 
 pofitin atque natwa. 
 
 K z of
 
 132 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 c of fpeaking, we are fpurred on by an 
 ' eager ambition of appearing in publick, 
 ' it has notwithftanding a foundation 
 in the nature of things.' But Cicero 
 himfelf attributes the want of perfection in 
 oratory entirely to it's feparation from phi- 
 lofophy. ' What (hall I fay of the 
 1 knowlege of nature, an acquaintance with 
 
 * which fupplies large {lores to oratory in 
 ' treating of the duties of life, of virtue, 
 e of morals, that it can be either defcribed 
 
 * or underftood without a great deal of in- 
 c flru<flion in thofe very points ? To thefe 
 
 * qualifications of fuch great confequence 
 
 * are to be added numberlefs other accom- 
 4 plimments, which were formerly taught 
 
 * only by thofe who were reckoned matters 
 f of the art of fpeaking. So that no one 
 c can now attain that true and perfect elo- 
 4 quence, becaufe the fchools of philo- 
 
 Quid dicam de natara rerum, cujus cognitio magnam 
 oratoris fuppeditat copiam, de vita, de officiis, de virtute, 
 de moribus, fine multa earum ipfarum rerum difciplina, 
 aut dici, aut intelligi pofle ? Ad has tot, tantafque res, ad- 
 Kibenda funt ornamenta innumerabilia, qiue fola turn qui- 
 dem tradebantur ab iis qui dicendi numerabantur magiitri. 
 Quo fit ut veram illam & abfolutam eloquentiam nemo 
 confcquatur, quod alia intelligendi, alia dicendi difciplina 
 eft, & ab alils rerum, ab aliis vcrborum doilrinaquseritur. 
 
 ' fophy
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 133 
 
 c fophy are feparated from the fchools of 
 f oratory, and becaufe a knowlege of 
 4 things is taught by one, of language by 
 
 * another' Yet however difficult it might 
 be rendered on this account, he did not 
 doubt but that where great talents and 
 great application were met in the fame 
 perfon, a complete orator might arife. 
 To this effect he has given a fpeech to 
 Antonius, that has fomewhat the air 
 of prophecy, and in which he feems to 
 have fhadowed out himfelf. -f- c As far 
 
 * as I can conjecture from the genius of 
 ' our countrymen, I do not defpair but 
 '* that fome time or other a perfon may 
 
 * arife, who with more intenfe ftudy, with 
 
 * greater leifure, and brighter faculties 
 
 * than ours for learning, and alfo with 
 
 * more laborious induftry, after applying 
 
 * himfelf entirely to hearing, reading, and 
 
 * compofition, may prove fuch a kind of 
 
 f- Ego enim quantum auguror conjeftura, quanjaque 
 ingcnia in noftris hominibus efle video, non defpero fore 
 aliquem aliquando, qui & Itudio acriore, quam nos fumus 
 atque fuimus, & otio ac facilitate difcendi majore ac ma- 
 luriore, & labore atque induitria fuperiore, cum fe ad au- 
 diendura, Icgendum, fcribendumque dederit, exiftat talis 
 orator, qualem qusrimus : qui jure non folum difertus, 
 fed etiam cloquens dici poffit. De orat. 1. i . 
 
 K 3 'orator
 
 134 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 c orator as we are in fearch of : one who 
 
 * may with juftice be called not only a 
 < good fpeaker, but a man of accomplim- 
 
 * ed eloquence.' Here it is obfervable, 
 that he was fo far from thinking that fuch 
 perfection in oratory mould either become 
 common or frequent, that he confiders it 
 only as a rara avis, and feems to confine 
 the fpecies, like that of the phoenix, to 
 an individual. But Quinctilian is more 
 enlarged in his notions ; for in fpeaking 
 on this fubject, when he wiflies that ora- 
 tory may regain it's priftine dignity and 
 power, by being reftored to it's pofleffions 
 in philofophy, tho' he alfo fpeaks in the 
 fingular Lumber, yet it is clear he means 
 that he wiflies fome fuperior order might 
 hereafter be eftabliflied, with whom ora- 
 tory being mofl neceffary, mould hold the 
 firft rank, and philofophy be confidered 
 only as her handmaid. That by the au- 
 thority of this order their feveral claims 
 fhould be adjufted, and the' odious di- 
 ftinction of names be deftroyed. That 
 neither mould any longer pretend to the 
 fovereign authority, but both in due fub- 
 ordination ferve one common mafter. 
 
 1 Utinamque
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION, 135 
 
 ' Utinamque fit tempus unquam, quo per- 
 
 * fectus aliquis (qualem optamus) orator, 
 
 * hanc partem J fuperbo nomine, & vi- 
 
 * tiis quorundam bona ejus corrumpentium 
 c invifam, vindicet fibi, ac velut rebus re- 
 
 * petitis in corpus eloquentiae adducat.' To 
 the perfection of fuch an orator, he 
 thought the following points requifite. 
 ' Evolvendi penitus auftores qui de virtute 
 
 * pracipiunt, ut oratoris vita cum fcientia 
 
 * divinarum rerum lit humanarumque 
 ' conjuncta. Quas ipfae quanto majores ac 
 
 * pulchriores viderentur, fi illas ii docerent, 
 
 * qui etiam eloqui praeftantiffime poffunt. 
 
 * Non enim forenfem quandam inftituimus 
 ' operam, nee mercenariam vocem, nee 
 
 * (ut afperioribus verbis parcamus) non 
 ' inutilem fane litium advocatum, queni 
 ' denique cauflidicum vulgo vocant : fed 
 ' virum cum ingenii natura praeftantem, 
 ' turn vero tot pulcherrimas artes mente 
 
 * corhplexum, datum tandem rebus hu- 
 ' manis, qualem nulla anteavetuftas cogno- 
 ' verit, fingularem, perfeftumque undi- 
 4 que, optima fentientem, optimeque di- 
 
 t Nomen tamen fibi infolentrffimum arrogaverunt, ut 
 foli philofophi fapientix ftudiofi vocarentur. Quindl. 1. 1 . 
 
 K < centem/
 
 136 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 c centem.' How would it rejoice the 
 heart of Quinftilian could he have feen 
 his wifli accomplished in the eftablifhment 
 of an order of men, to whom a perfeft 
 knowlege of all things^ divine and human t 
 <was necejfery, to Jhine forth, not only in 
 their 'words , but in their lives ? An order, 
 fuch as no antiquity ever beheld > which 
 uniting- in itfelf the full powers of oratory 
 and philofophy in their largeft extent, 
 fhould enable men to communicate the 
 moft perfect knowlege in the moft perfect 
 manner. With what rapture muft he have 
 beheld oratory raifed to an higher office, 
 and a more exalted rank than ever it could 
 even claim before ; no longer miniftring 
 to the purpofes of mere mortal and earth- 
 ly mailers, but immediately employed in 
 the fervice of the Moft High of God him- 
 felf? Whilft philofophy, humbled from 
 her proud pretenfions, fhould be content 
 to mmifter to her former rival. Such an 
 office for oratorv could never have entered 
 
 j 
 
 into the thoughts of an heathen, as the 
 grofs abfurdities of their religion, and ri- 
 diculous ideas of their gods, required the 
 obfcurity of myftery, and dark veil of 
 3 fuperftition,
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 137 
 fuperftition, but wouM by no means bear 
 the light. So that however philofophy, 
 of the pretended kind at leaft, might by 
 collufion be employed in the fervice of 
 religion, as by it's own darknefs it might 
 cart a deeper (hade over the other, oratory 
 muft neceflarilybe banimed from it's mini- 
 ftry, whole office it is to throw a ftrong 
 light upon all which it handles. How 
 would the auguft union of eloquence and 
 philofophy with the facred office, have 
 ft ruck the antients with admiration and 
 aftonifhment? And conlidering the great- 
 nefs of their powers when feparate, what 
 glorious effects would they not expect 
 from the joint endeavours of religion, 
 oratory, and philofophy, all mutually fup- 
 porting and affifting each other in bring- 
 ing about the nobleft ends, the general 
 good of fociety, and happinefs of each 
 individual ? How much higher muft their 
 expectations be raifed, when they mould 
 coniider the purity of our religion, the 
 unearthly and exalted notions which we 
 entertain of the Deity, and the falutary 
 fyftem of laws for his conduct in life, pro- 
 mulgated to man by his great Author and 
 
 Creator ?
 
 138 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 Creator ? Would not Plato triumph to fee 
 the day when his prediction was verifyed, 
 1 that it was rather the work of God, than 
 ' of human legiflators, to provide a fyftem 
 ' of laws relative to thofe great duties, 
 e which mens appetites and paffions ren- 
 c der difficult?' And when he contemplat- 
 ed not only the fitnefs of the fyftem to 
 anfwer the end, but likewife the fitnefs 
 of the means to fupport the fyftem , 
 would he not cry out, that what was hi- 
 therto beyond the utmoft reach of human 
 thought, and was hid from the refearchei 
 of the wifeft men, could come from God 
 alone ? Would not Socrates himfelf think 
 philofophy raifed and dignifyed beyond 
 his utmoft conception, when miniftring 
 to oratory in fuch glorious purpofes ? How 
 great muft Cicero fuppofe the virtue of 
 fuch a people to be, to the fupport of 
 which he thought the belief of a future 
 ftate abfolutely necefTary, when he mould 
 find that belief eftablifhed, not in the minds 
 of a few, but univerfally thro' a whole 
 ftate j not founded on the weak bails of 
 reafon only, but on the immoveable rock 
 of revelation ? Would they not all join 
 
 with
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 139 
 with one voice to felicitate fuch a people, 
 and fay, ' O happy nation ! to whom 
 
 * the nobleft and moft important truths, 
 ' which were darkly feen, and as thro* a 
 ' mift, by only a few, and thofe the wifeft 
 c of the heathen world, are revealed in full 
 c meridian light, and like the fun vifible to 
 
 * all eyes ? Like that luminary communicat- 
 ' ing light and heat to all, to the low as well 
 e as the high, to the weak in underftand- 
 ' ing, as well as to thofe of the mod im- 
 
 * proved capacities. Who need no longer 
 
 * be diffracted with doubts, and wafte 
 
 * your time in fruitlefs debates ; to whotn 
 
 * the laws of right and wrong are clearly 
 
 * laid open, and whofe happinefs depends 
 
 * only upon the conformity of your actions 
 ' to thofe laws. Who may fafely attend 
 ' your labours in your feveral vocations, to 
 
 * obtain what is needful for the comforts 
 
 * and the enjoyments of life, and when you 
 ' reft from thofe neceffary toils, receive in- 
 
 * ftruction with delight, in all that is need- 
 c ful for the difcharge of your feveral duties. 
 ' Happy people ! who need no longer be 
 c confined by the fetters of ignorance, or 
 ' hoodwinked by fuperftition, who may 
 
 'be
 
 I 4 o BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 * be allowed the free ufe of your rea- 
 ' fon in religious as well as worldly mat- 
 
 * ters, fince there is no danger of your 
 c miftaking the road, when you have fuch 
 
 * knowing and unerring guides. And 
 ' you, ye holy men ! highly favoured 
 1 of heaven above all others, in whofe di- 
 e vine inftitution arc united all the greateft 
 ' powers which God has given to man, 
 c and which alone could make you worthy 
 ' of his fervice, let us with love and admi- 
 ration contemplate the beauty of your fa- 
 e cred function, and with wonder and de- 
 ' light examine it's fhipendous frame ! 
 c Happy men, whofe order mufl command 
 c refpeft and reverence to your perfons, 
 ' whofe talents mufl conciliate to you the 
 ' efteem and love of mankind ! Employed 
 c from your earlieft days in treafuring up 
 c knowlege and wifdom, not to lie con- 
 ' cealed like the mifer's hoard, but to be 
 c difplayed to the eyes of men, enriching 
 ' the beholders, without impoveriihing 
 
 * yourfelves, and by the very ad: of com-* 
 
 * munication increafing, not diminiming, 
 
 * your ftore. Free from the anxious pur- 
 
 * fuits of life, and fupported by the labour 
 
 ' of
 
 CHAP, XV. EDUCATION. 141 
 
 4 of others, your whole time may be em- 
 c ployed in miniftring to the glory of 
 ' him whofe fervice is perfect freedom, 
 
 * and in promoting the welfare of your 
 c fellow creatures, in eftabliming peace 
 ' and good-will amongft men. Thrice 
 e happy orators, who enjoy all the delight, 
 c the praife, the perfection of your art, 
 e without the difficulties, the labours, the 
 c dangers that attended it of old ! You 
 
 * need no pains to procure filence, no 
 ' arts to engage attention ; the fanctity of 
 
 * the temple enfures the one, the im- 
 f portance and interesting nature of the 
 
 * fubject to all hearers commands the 
 ' other. Secure in your celeftial armour, 
 
 * tho'you attack the wicked with force and 
 c might, you need fear no enemies j and 
 
 * the Philips and Anthonies of the world 
 ' may be lamed by you without danger. 
 
 * Confined to labour on no barren or un- 
 
 * important fubjects, you have the whole 
 univerfe for your theme, whatever be- 
 c longs to divine or human nature, to fpi- 
 c ritual or material exiftence. In treat- 
 ' ing of thefe, the paft becomes as the 
 
 * prefent, and the future is anticipated. 
 
 f Your
 
 142 BRITISH BOOK I, 
 ' Your anceftors fupply you with know- 
 ' lege, pofterity with arguments ; the col- 
 c lecled wifdom of ages is your magazine, 
 ' and all nature your ftore-houfe. But 
 c more particularly for your ufe was that 
 ' book of light fent into the world, where- 
 ' in the Godhead has difplayed himfelf 
 
 * in as ample a manner as could be com- 
 ' prehended by mortal capacities. Nor 
 
 * were lefs fupplies neceflary to treat on 
 
 * fuch fubjecls, as the wonderful attri- 
 
 * butes of the Deity, the focial duties of 
 c man, and the glorious profpect of a fu- 
 
 * ture ftate of exiftence. How muft the 
 
 * hearts of your hearers glow within them, 
 
 * when the whole force of knowlege and 
 
 * eloquence are united upon fuch impor- 
 c tant topicks ? and how muft their love, 
 
 * admiration, and gratitude burn towards 
 ' you their teachers and benefactors, whofe 
 
 * whole labours are employed to their pro- 
 
 * fit and delight ? With us the charms of 
 e oratory alone were fufficient to procure 
 c praife, fame, affection, and efteem to it's 
 c profeffors j and what could be more 
 c natural than that thefe fhould necefla- 
 
 * rrly attend an art, which in it felf con- 
 
 ' tained
 
 CHAP. XV. EDUCATION. 143 
 
 c tained the powers of all thofe which 
 ' can moft captivate the heart, and allure 
 c the mind of man. * For what fong 
 could be more charming to the ear, than 
 ' the well-modulated voice of the fpeaker, 
 ' or what tones could more intimately 
 
 * penetrate the heart than thofe of nature 
 
 * finking on the kindred chords ? What 
 1 numbers of the poet could be more de- 
 
 * lightful, wherein art is perpetually vi- 
 
 * iible, than the tuneful cadence of a well- 
 
 * turned period, which feems to come 
 
 * from nature's own hand ? What 
 c actor can be more pleating in the feigned 
 
 * imitation of truth a than the orator in 
 c the reprefentation of truth itfelf ? How 
 ' much greater force muft thefe have with 
 c you, when employed to fo noble an end ? 
 
 * Equal to us in all the arts of captivating 
 ' the fenfes, how much more lordly is 
 
 * your fway over the imagination, and 
 
 * the paffions ? What vigorous flights may 
 c you not lead fancy, when freed from 
 
 * Qjji enim cantus moderatae orationis pron initiations 
 dulcior inveniri poteft ? quod carmen artificiofa ver- 
 bomm conduftone aptius ? qui adtor in imitanda, quam. 
 orator in fufcipienda veritate jucundior ? Cic. de 
 ojat. 1. 2. , . 
 
 c the
 
 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 * the fetters of matter, thro' fpiritual re- 
 ' gions, and a boundlefs eternity, till this 
 
 * world fhall appear but as a fpeck, and 
 1 it's duration but as a point of time ? How 
 c infinitely more powerful muft the exer- 
 ' tions of hope and fear be, in proportion 
 ' to the immenfity of their object ? What 
 ' were the conquefts of Alexander or 
 c Caefar compared to yours ? Theirs were 
 c over men, over their brethren : yours 
 4 are over the enemies to human nature, 
 
 * over fin, and over death.' 
 
 But mould thefe fages of antiquity be 
 informed that things were quite other- 
 wife, that vice and libertinifm were never 
 known to have arrived at a greater pitch 
 in any country, that virtue was neglected 
 or ridiculed, and religion, far from anfwer- 
 ing it's end, was together with the prieft- 
 hood held in contempt ; muft they not 
 either conclude, that the people were the 
 moft ftupid and hardened in the world, 
 or tfcat they who were dedicated to the 
 fervice of the church, were not quali- 
 fied to difcharge their office. When 
 they mould be told, that no order ever 
 produced fuch numbers of men diftin- 
 
 * guifhed
 
 . 
 
 HAP.XV. EDUCATION. 145 
 guimed for knowlege and wifdom, re- 
 markable for purity of morals, and fane- 
 tity of life ; that their difcourfes in the 
 caufe of virtue and religion, were the 
 nobleft produ<5tions that ever came from 
 the wit of man j they would be apt to 
 fuffer the former opinion to take place. 
 But (hould they be informed, that in the 
 education of thefe men, great care was 
 taken to inftruct them in philofophy, and 
 to ftore their minds with all forts of know- 
 lege, but none at all about the art of 
 communicating thefe to others by fpeech ; 
 that fo far from training them in the ftudy 
 and practice of oratory, their very firft 
 principles of fpeaking were corrupted by 
 the moft ignorant teachers, and that this 
 error was never afterwards amended ; 
 that in confequence of this they de- 
 livered the words of truth in the tones of 
 fiction, and were fo far from delighting, 
 that they difgufted their hearers, the 
 whole wonder would at once vanim. 
 They would then fee that the priefthood 
 was no..longer that powerful order which 
 they had imagined, and would confider 
 it in the fame fituation as a man whofe 
 L intellects
 
 146 B k I r 1 S H BOOK I. 
 intellects were found, and outward form of 
 body perfect, but who being deprived of 
 the ufe of his limbs, was incapable of 
 ferving himfelf or others. 
 
 Indeed it is fo evident that the proper 
 arms for the ufe of the members of the 
 church militant here on earth, for the 
 foldiers in Chrift, can be drawn from no 
 flores but thofe of oratory, that it is afto- 
 nifhing how it could poffibly be fo entirely 
 neglected. Nor can this fault be at all 
 imputed to the clergy, but to their edu- 
 cation. We may as well blame the Chi- 
 nefe women for want of the perfect ufe 
 of their limbs in walking, as thofe for 
 want of power in fpeaking. When they 
 enter upon the difcharge of their duty, 
 they may be fenfible of the defect, but can 
 find no remedy. The bad habits they 
 have acquired can not be removed, but by 
 the diligent affiftance of fkilful perfons, 
 and none fuch are to be found. This was 
 the true reafon why fo many eminent di- 
 vines were obliged to have recourfe to 
 arms, in the exercife of which they had 
 been trained, and to defert thofe whofe 
 ufe they had never been taught $ and it 
 
 was
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 147 
 
 was neceffity which reduced them to em- 
 ploy the weaker means of writing to fup- 
 port their caufe, inftead of the more pow- 
 erful affiftance of oratory. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Ill confequences of this defect both to church 
 and ft ate ^ and the great advantages which 
 'would refult to both from the jludy of 
 oratory. 
 
 THIS defect in the education of 
 thofe deftined to holy orders, was 
 a fundamental error at the reformation ; 
 and from that fatal oversight, and an un- 
 happy miftake in the eftablifhment for 
 the fupport of the clergy, may be dated 
 the downfall of religion, and decay of 
 chriftian piety. When the exorbitant 
 wealth and temporal power of the church, 
 together with a tyrannical authority ex- 
 ercifed over the minds of men, called 
 aloud for a reformation, great care mould 
 have been taken not to have carried mat- 
 ters into extremes. Tho' it was right 
 to ilrip her of her fuperfluities, and her 
 L 2 almofl
 
 148 BRITISH BOOK L 
 almoft princely territories, yet it was ne- 
 ceilary fhe (hould have a competency, and 
 that her income {hould be independent. 
 And in proportion as fhe was . deprived 
 of that power, which abfurdly demanded 
 a blind obedience to her will, fhe ought 
 to have been furnifhed with all the arts 
 of perfuafion, without which fhe could 
 no longer be of ufe. What project of 
 Satan's could have more effectually fawn 
 the feeds of perpetual difcord between the 
 clergy and laity, than giving the former 
 an annual claim upon the latter of a tenth 
 part of their fubftance ? And with what 
 reluctance inuft they who earn their bread 
 with the fweat of their brow, part with fo 
 much of the fruit of their toils, for fo little 
 value received? For, being no longer hood- 
 winked by fuperflition, but feeing thro' 
 the clear light of reafon, they would 
 find that the obfervation of a few forms 
 and ceremonies, was all that they gene- 
 rally got for their money, and their very 
 religion pointed out to them to fet little 
 value upon thofe. They would often have 
 occafion to obferve, that thefe forms and 
 ceremonies were mechanically gone thro 
 
 by
 
 TAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 149 
 
 by a poor drudge at thirty or forty pounds 
 per arm. and fometimes at lefs, and con- 
 fequently would look at what was given 
 over and above as fupecfluous j not as 
 given to the holy office, but to fupport the 
 pride and luxury of mere temporal men. 
 In this view it is no wonder that the pro- 
 fefTion itfelf mould come to be hated, and 
 that the bulk of mankind mould confider 
 it as a burthen. The fame caufe would 
 naturally produce the fame effect in re- 
 gard to any other profeffion. For let us 
 fuppofe, that people were obliged to con- 
 tribute a certain proportion of their in- 
 come to the fupport of lawyers, and phy- 
 ficianSj for tli prefer vation of their pro- 
 perties, and their healths ; and this was 
 to be levied on all without diftinction -, on 
 thofe whofe titles to their eftates were 
 clear and uncontroverted, and on fuch as 
 enjoyed a perfect flate of health, as well 
 as on thofe whofe right was difputable, 
 and fuch as laboured under diforders ; 
 and that men were not at liberty to chufe 
 their own lawyer, or phyfician, but to 
 make ufe of fuch as were appointed for 
 diem, whether fkilful or not 5 what an. 
 L 3 outcry
 
 150 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 outcry muft not of courfe be raifed again ft 
 thofe profeffions, and how unreafonable 
 would men think the burthen impofed on 
 them ? This argument will hold equally 
 ftrong in regard to thofe who look upon 
 the church only as a civil inftitution. And 
 nothing but a perfect difcharge of their 
 duty in the clergy, can make the bulk of 
 mankind confider it in any other light. 
 As therefore a dhlike and hatred of the 
 whole order were deeply rooted in the 
 felf-intereft of mankind, and a ftrong pre- 
 judice againft the doctrines they preached, 
 in their paffions j what could poffibly en- 
 able the priefthood to fupport their holy 
 caufe, but the powers of perfuafion, and 
 the talents of conciliating men's love and 
 gratitude to themfelves, from the delight 
 and profit which they mould receive from 
 their labours 2 Or how could they expect to 
 prevail upon their hearers to embrace doc- 
 trines fo oppofite to their paffions, and re- 
 duce them to practice, unlefs they mould 
 have power to control thofe paffions, and 
 to intereft fuch as are moft powerful over 
 the mind on their fide ? This ought there- 
 fore to have been chiefly attended to at 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 151 
 
 the reformation, and a new method of 
 education eftabliflied for fuch as were to 
 be guardians to the new church ; where- 
 in the practice and exercife of the only 
 weapons which could poffibly defend it 
 fhould have chiefly employed their time. 
 But in changes it feldom happens that a 
 due medium is obferved ; the paffions be- 
 ing generally more concerned in bringing 
 them about than reafon j men in avoid- 
 ing one extreme for the moil part run into 
 another. So fared it in regard to the 
 church at the time of the reformation. 
 They were fo bufy and eager to deftroy 
 her exorbitant power, that they reduced 
 her to a deplorable ftate of weaknefs. 
 They were fo jealous of the former ufurp- 
 ed authority of the priefts, that they did 
 not care to truft them with any at all. 
 And indeed there was hardly any thing 
 left to the function but the name, and in 
 general a poor fubfiilence grudgingly paid, 
 the fource of perpetual ill-will from thofe 
 who parted with it. They were not con- 
 tent with destroying her lofty citadel and 
 high towers of ftrength, they likewife 
 razed her walls, and left her open and 
 L 4 naked
 
 152 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 naked to the world, appointing only a few 
 watchmen for her protection without 
 arms, or difcipline j who retaining nothing 
 but the odious name of her former mi- 
 nifters, without their power, were more 
 likely to invite than to repel an attack. Is 
 it any wonder that thus circumftanced her 
 deftruclion mould foon be accomplished? 
 Accordingly we find that it was brought 
 about in a mort fpace of time. It is well 
 worth obferving what means and in fir u- 
 ments were employed on this occafion. The 
 appearance of religion was aiTumed to de- 
 flroy the reality ; and the weapons which 
 ought to have been employed in defence of 
 the church, were made ufe of with fuccefs 
 in pulling it down. Political fedts arofe, 
 under the name and colour of religious, 
 who had recourfe to the arms of oratory, 
 neglected and difufed by the eftablifhed 
 miniftry. 'Tis true, they handled them 
 unfkilfully, with relation to their true ufe, 
 but with art enough to anfwer their own 
 ends. As truth was not in their caufe, 
 neither was it in their eloquence. Their 
 bufinefs was not to apply to the under- 
 ilanding, or to the paffions, thro' the heart, 
 
 which
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 153 
 which could be only done by rational and 
 natural means, but to work upon the fancy 
 and imagination, by the enthufiaftick no- 
 tions of the operations of the fpirit. To 
 anfwer this end, canting and frantick gef- 
 tures might be more forcible than the beft 
 regulated oratory ; for the lefs natural the 
 tones, and the lefs human the looks and 
 geftures might appear, the more in th,e 
 eyes of a fanatick multitude would they 
 feem to be divine infpirations, and the 
 workings of the fpirit. This was only a 
 revival of the artifice of thofe priefts who 
 delivered the oracles of old. However 
 unnatural this mode of eloquence might 
 be, yet it was much more forcible than 
 that dull infipid one adopted by the efta- 
 blimed miniflry, as it at leaft rouzed the 
 attention, and kept the fenfes awake. And 
 the emotions with which their difcourfes 
 were delivered, had alfo this efFec~r. on vul- 
 gar hearers, of making them think the 
 preachers in earneil:; a point of all others 
 the moft likely to give them weight. It 
 is no wonder therefore, that the very form 
 itfelf mould daily make profelytes to their 
 worfhip, fince it may be doubted whether 
 all the paflions together have greater 
 
 power
 
 J54 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 power over the mind of man than en- 
 thuliafm alone. The leaders of fuch a feet 
 living in a conftant habit of diffimulation, 
 muft of courfe acquire the art of feeming 
 thoroughly poflefled themfelves of the 
 opinions which they broached, and con- 
 fequently the greatefl power of perfuad- 
 ing others into the fame. The abbe Du 
 Bos, in his Critical reflections, &c. has a 
 paffage remarkably applicable to the cafe 
 in point. c Of all the talents proper for 
 ' raiting man to a ftate of empire and com- 
 c mand, a fuperiority of wit and know- 
 ' lege is not the moft effectual ; 'tis the art 
 ' of moving men as one pleafes ; an art 
 c that is acquired principally by a perfon's 
 1 feeming to be moved, and penetrated 
 
 * with thofe very fentiments he intends to 
 
 * infpire. 'Tis the art of being like Catiline, 
 *cujuflibet ret fimulator t which you may 
 
 * call if you pleafe, the art of being a com- 
 4 plete a<flor. Thofe amongft the Eng- 
 
 * lilh that are beft acquainted with the 
 c hiftory of their own country, do not 
 4 mention the name of Oliver Cromwell 
 
 * with the fame admiration, as the gene- 
 
 * rality of that nation j they are far from 
 ' allowing him that extenfive, penetrating, 
 
 4 fuperior
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 155 
 
 c fuperior genius, with which fo many are 
 
 * pleafed to honour him. They reduce 
 
 * therefore his whole merit to his bravery, 
 4 as a foldier, and to a peculiar talent of 
 c feeming penetrated with the fentiments 
 ' which he had a mind to feign, and ap- 
 1 pearing moved with thofe paffions he 
 1 defired to infpire, as if he had really felt 
 ' them himfelf. Thurloe, they fay, in- 
 ' ftructed him occafionally what per- 
 e fons he was to prevail upon in order 
 1 to make his project fucceed, and in what 
 ' manner it was proper to attack them ; 
 
 * juft as one would tutor a woman that is 
 ' to be employed in acting fome character 
 ' of importance. Oliver fpoke to them 
 ' afterwards in fo pathetick a manner^ as 
 
 * to bring them over to his party.' 
 
 Here we may fee that the mofl forcible 
 part of oratory was employed in the de- 
 ftruction of the church and irate, and con- 
 fequently may judge how neceflary it is 
 for their fupport. 
 
 St. Auftin, in his fourth book on the 
 chriftian doctrine, recommends and en- 
 forces the ftudy and practice of it to all 
 in holy orders by the flrongefl arguments. 
 
 4 Since
 
 156 BRITISH BOOK!. 
 c Since it is by the art of rhetorick that 
 
 * people are enabled to eftablifh true and 
 
 * falfe opinions, who fhall dare to fay that 
 ' truth fhould be without arms in the 
 ' perfons of thofe who are to defend it 
 c againft falmood ? Can it be believed that 
 c thofe who endeavour to enforce a falfe 
 ' doctrine fhould be fkilled in the art of 
 ( conciliating to themfelves the good will 
 ' and attention of their hearers by their 
 c addrefs, and that thofe who fupport the 
 
 * caufe of truth fhould not be poffefTed of 
 c this fkill ? That the one fhould fpeak of 
 ' what is falfe with brevity and verifimili- 
 e tude, and the other fhall difcourfe of 
 ' what is true, in fo tedious, difgufting, 
 ' and unnatural a manner, as to give pain 
 *' to their hearers, and make them think 
 e their doctrines not credible ; that thofe 
 f fhould combat truth with falfe arguments, 
 ' and eftablifh their falfe opinions, and 
 
 * that thefe fhould neither be capable of 
 
 * defending what is true, nor of confuting 
 c what is falfe ; that the former fhould 
 ' have fuch power over the minds of their 
 
 * hearers as to lead them whither they 
 
 * pleafe, that they excite in them aftonifh- 
 
 ' ment,
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 157 
 
 ' ment, fadnefs, or joy, that they mould 
 ''animate, move, and turn them as they 
 c think proper j and that the latter mould 
 
 * remain cold, unaffecting, and without 
 c power ? Who can be fo abfurd as to ad- 
 1 mit fo extravagent a thought ? Since 
 1 therefore eloquence, which has a pro- 
 
 * digious power in perfuading people 
 
 * either to falfe or true opinions, lies open 
 e to all who are inclined to make ufe of it, 
 
 * what can be the reafon that the good do 
 .* not employ themfelves in acquiring an 
 ' art fo neceffary for the defence of truth ? 
 
 * Efpecially when 'tis confidered that the 
 c wicked ufe it with fuccefs in defending 
 c injustice, in eftablifhing error, and in 
 
 * accomplishing their pernicious defigns.' 
 
 Here it may be obferved, that there is 
 no argument urged to enforce the ftudy 
 of eloquence for the ufe of the pulpit, 
 which is not equally cogent in regard to 
 the fenate-houfe, and the bar. 
 
 Indeed the neceflity of it to all three is 
 fo very manifeft to any one, who reflects 
 ever fo little upon the point, that it might 
 be judged a wafte of time to have dwelt 
 fo Jong upon this topick, did not the total 
 
 neglect
 
 158 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 neglect of it, and a general deficiency, 
 confequential from that, warrant an opi- 
 nion, that it has either not been confider- 
 ed fufficiently by thofe whofe bufinefs it 
 is, or that it has not appeared to them to 
 be of fo important a nature as is here pre- 
 tended. 
 
 But it may be afked, fuppofing the great 
 ufe, importance, and neceflity of this art 
 were eftablifhed in their utmoft extent, 
 beyond all pofiibility of doubt or cavil, it 
 may be afked, I fay, how is it to be ac- 
 quired ? The Romans have pointed out 
 the way, and their example is a fufficient 
 light to guide us. Cicero when he gives 
 a definition of this art, in the fame fen- 
 tence points out the means to attain it. 
 J c Elocution is a graceful management 
 * of the voice, countenance, and gefture/ 
 It is to be acquired as all other arts are, by 
 precept, by example, by practice. 'Till 
 thefe means were tryed, we find that 
 oratory was at a very low ebb in Rome. 
 It had only a comparative excellence a- 
 
 % Pronunciatio eft vocis, & vultus, & geftus moderatio 
 cum venuftate. Hsc omnia tribus raodis affenqui pote- 
 rimas : arte imitations exercitatione. 
 
 3 rifing
 
 HAP.XVI. EDUCATION. 159 
 
 fifing from ' the different degrees of the 
 natural requifites in the fpeakers. We 
 find Antonius, who immediately preceded 
 Cicero, peremptorily pronouncing, that 
 tho' he knew fome who were good fpeak- 
 ers, he knew not one worthy of the name 
 of orator. His teftimony is the more to 
 be relied on, as he was himfelf efteem- 
 ed one of the firft orators of the age. -f- 
 ' I was of that opinion, when I faid in a 
 
 * book which I published, that I had 
 ' known fome good fpeakers, but no good 
 
 * orator : for I called him a good fpeaker, 
 ' who had ingenuity and clearnefs of ex- 
 preffion, fufficient to pafs well amongft 
 
 * men of moderate judgement; but would 
 
 * allow none to be a good orator, but fuch 
 
 * a one alone who mould be able in an ad-. 
 c mirable and exalted manner to amplify 
 1 and enrich his fubje<ft : who had ftored 
 
 f Tumque ego hac eadem opinione adduflus, fcripfi 
 etiam illud quodam in libello, difertos me cognoffe non- 
 nullos, eloquentem adhuc neminem : quod eum llatuebam 
 difertum, qui poffit fatis acute, atque dilucide apud me- 
 diocres homines ex communi quadam hominum opinione 
 dicere ; eloquentem vero, qui mirabilius, & magnificentius 
 augere poffet, atque ornare qu:e vellet, omnefque omnium 
 rerum, qux ad dicendum pertinercnt, fontes aniuio, ac 
 memoiia contineret. 
 
 ' his
 
 i6o B R I r IS H BOOK I. 
 c his underftanding and his memory with 
 * all the treafures belonging to a perfect 
 c fpeaker.' In this reprefentation, our 
 times may be looked upon as exactly ii- 
 milar to the days of Antonius, and it will 
 be our own fault if the riling generation 
 do not fee an age like that which fucceed- 
 ed at Rome. 
 
 The fame caufe would infallibly have 
 the fame effect. A man of thefe times 
 and of this country, may without any im- 
 putation of vanity, or pretence to prophe- 
 cy, fay of our countrymen, what Anto- 
 nius did of his in a paffage above cited. * 
 
 The means by which oratory had rifen 
 to fuch a pitch of perfection in his days, 
 are clearly and concifely laid down by Ci- 
 cero, -fr c After the eftablifhment of our 
 ' univerfal empire, when the long con- 
 
 1 Vid. p. 131. 
 
 f- Nam pofteaquam, imperio omnium gentium confti- 
 tutio, diuturnitas pacis otium con6rmavit, nemo fere lau- 
 dis cupidus adolefcens non iibi ad dicendum ftudio omni 
 enitendum putavit. Ac primo quidem totius rationis ig- 
 nari, qui neque exercitatioais ullam vim neque aliquod 
 praeceptum artis elTe arbitrarentur, tantum, quantum in- 
 genio, & cogitatione poterant, conlequebantur. Polt 
 kutcm auditis oratoribus Graecis, cognitifque eorum lite- 
 ris, adhibitifque do&oribus, incredibili quodam noflri ho- 
 dicendi ftudio fiagra/unt. 
 
 ' tinuance
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 161 
 
 4 tinuance of peace afforded leifure time, 
 c there was fcarce any young man defirous 
 
 * of glory, who did not apply himfelf 
 
 * with all his might to the ftudy of elo- 
 quence. But at firft being ignorant of 
 c all principles of the art, of the mighty 
 force of practice, and not thinking that 
 f there were any certain rules to guide 
 ' them, they each of them made what 
 ' advances they could by the ftrength of 
 c their own genius only, and reflection. 
 c But afterwards, when they had heard 
 1 the Greek orators, were made acquainted 
 e with their learning, and attended the 
 
 c lectures of their rhetoricians, it is incre- 
 4 dible with what an ardent defire of the 
 
 * ftudy of eloquence our people were in- 
 
 * flamed.' If we had the fame advan- 
 tages, if our youth were trained up 
 under matters equally fkilful with the 
 Greek rhetoricians, in the principles of 
 the art, equally qualified to inflruct them 
 by precept and example, and to perfect: 
 them by practice, (hall it be doubted 
 whether the Britifh oratory would arrive 
 at as great a pitch of perfection as the Ro- 
 man ? Britons will hardly yield the palm 
 
 M > either
 
 x62 R I r I S H BOOK L 
 
 either to Greece or Rome, in point of 
 talents or induftry; nor have they ever 
 failed to accomplish their ends in whatever 
 they undertook equally well with them, 
 where their means were of equal force. 
 Shall any one now living fuppofe, that 
 Britain is lefs flored with men of true ge- 
 nius and ftrong natural powers for ora- 
 tory, who has heard a Walpole, a Pulteney, 
 a Chefterfield, a Granville, a Pitt, a 
 Murray, and many others ? or can they 
 conceive that equal talents cultivated with 
 equal pains, would not produce equal 
 perfection ? Are our motives to the ftudy 
 and practice of this art, or the opportu- 
 nities of displaying it, inferior to theirs? We 
 may foon fee by examining them, -j- 
 
 * They were fpurred on by the import- 
 
 * ance, variety, and multitude of caufes of 
 
 * all kinds, to perfect the knowlege which 
 
 * each had acquired in his courfe of ftudy, 
 
 f- Exckabant eos magnitude,' et varietas, multitudoque 
 fn omni genere caufarum, ut ad earn doftrinam, quatn 
 fuo quifque ftudio confecutus eflet, adjungeretur ufus fre- 
 quens, qai omnium magiftrorum prscepta fuperaret. 
 Erant amem huic ftudio maxima, qua? nunc qcoque funt, 
 propofita praemia, vel ad gratiam, vel ad opes, vel ad 
 dignisafiem. Cic. de orat.
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 163 
 
 * by conflant practice, far fuperior to 
 
 * precept. There were alfo at that time, 
 ' as now, the higheft rewards attending 
 this ftudy, in point of reputation, of 
 
 * riches, and of honours/ May we not 
 with equal truth and as little appear- 
 ance of vain-glory fay of our country- 
 men what Cicero faid of his ; * * The 
 
 * genius of our people (as may be judged 
 c from many inftances) far excelled that of 
 
 * all other nations.' And conclude as he 
 does, -f- It is therefore very furprifing that 
 
 * in the hiftory of paft times we find fo 
 c fmall a number of good orators.' His 
 manner of anfwering this queftion favours 
 more of vanity than truth, and feems 
 rather calculated to enhance his own me- 
 rit, than to give a juft account of the 
 thing. J c But there is fomething more 
 
 * Ingenia vero (ut multis rebus poffumus judicare) no- 
 flrorum hominum multum czeteris hominibas omnium 
 gentium pneftiterunt ? 
 
 f Quibus de caufis quis non jure miretur, ex omni me- 
 moria statum, temporum, civitatum, tarn exiguum ora- 
 torum numerum inveniri ? 
 
 4; Sed nimirum majus eft hoc quiddam, quam homines 
 opinantur, & pluribus ex artibus, ftudiifque collegium. 
 Quisenim aliud in maxima difcentium multitudine, fum- 
 ma magiftrorum copia, prasftantiflimis hominum ingeniis, 
 infinita caufarum varietate, ampliffimis eloquentis pro- 
 pofitis praemiis, efle caufae putet, nifi rei quandam in- 
 credibilcm magnitudinem & difficultatem ? Cic. de orat. 
 
 M 2 in
 
 * 64 R I r I S H BOOK I. 
 
 * in this than people are aware of; and 
 4 it arifes from an acquaintance with a 
 ' greater number of arts and more various 
 
 * Jtudies than is imagined. For when 
 c we confider the crowds of pupils and 
 ' preceptors, the many inftances of ex- 
 
 * traordinary genius, the infinite variety of 
 e catifes, the noble rewards attendant on 
 c eloquence, what caufe can be affigned 
 c for the great fcarcity of orators, but the 
 
 * incredible weight and difficulty of the 
 c art itfelf ?' For tho' we mould allow 
 him the full extent of his argument, and 
 acknowlege all that prodigious difficulty 
 in the art which he afterwards diiplays 
 with fuch eloquence, yet it is evident from 
 fact, that the fcarcity of orators in Rome 
 previous to his time, can not be accounted 
 for on that principle. It could be owing 
 to nothing but their want of ftudying it 
 methodically as an art, of which the fol- 
 lowing is a flrong prefumptive proof ; 
 that loon after it came to be fludied in that 
 manner, and made part of the difcipline 
 of youth, there arofe a great number of 
 excellent orators, in whom were united 
 all thofe perfections, the want of which 
 
 made 

 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 165 
 
 made them refufe the name to their pre- 
 deceflbrs, whofe natural abilities they had 
 no reafon to judge were at all inferior,, 
 but whofe acquired ikill was lefs. To 
 corroborate this proof it may be obferved, 
 that Athens, where this art was made the 
 chief fhidy, abounded in excellent orators, 
 tho' the other flates of Greece, which ne- 
 glected it, produced none of any name. 
 And that Rome never produced one wor- 
 thy to be handed down to pofterity by 
 that name, till this method of ftudy was 
 introduced. The writers upon this fub- 
 jecfl do not even except P.CrafTus, Scipio, 
 Laelius, and th? Gracchi. In fpeaking 
 to this point, Velleius Paterculus fays, 
 c But oratory in all it's branches, and the 
 
 * perfectionb f profe-writing, if we may-ex- 
 ' ceptCato (with all duerefpect to P.Craf- 
 
 * fus, Scipio, Lselius, the Gracchi, Fannius 
 c and Ser. Galba be it fpoken) blazed out in 
 4 fuch luftre in the time of that prince of 
 
 i At oratio, ac vis forenfis, perfeftumque profz eln- 
 -quentL-e decus, ut idem feparetur Cato (pace P. Craffi. 
 Scipionifque & Lxlii & Gracchorum, & Fannii & Ser. 
 <jalbas dixerim) ita univerfa fub principe opcris fuierupir 
 Tullio, ut deleflari ante eum paucilfimis, mirari vero 
 neminem pofiis, nifi aut ab illo viium, aut qui ilium vj- 
 
 M 3 l orators,
 
 i66 BRiriSH BOOK I. 
 
 * orators, Cicero, that we can be pleafed 
 ' with the works of but very few be- 
 
 * fore his days, but can admire none which 
 
 * were not produced by perfons whom he 
 ' had feen, or who had feen him/ So that 
 die age of Cicero may be confidered as the 
 only period of time in which oratory 
 flourifhed at Rome, and this was the age 
 in which it was firft taught there as an 
 art. That alone is fufficient to account 
 for it's never having flourifhed there be- 
 fore ; and that it immediately afterwards 
 fell into decay and ruin, was owing to the 
 change in their conftitution. It muft be 
 obvious enough to the moft common re- 
 flection, that oratory could no longer dwell 
 in a place, from which liberty was banilhed. 
 
 That a proper method of inftruction is 
 neceffary to bring oratory to any degree 
 of perfection, may be eafily feen by com- 
 paring it with any of the arts fo taught. 
 Suppofe a man of the greateft genius for 
 mufick or painting, mould fet out upon 
 his own ilrength, without precept or ex- 
 ample, to acquire fkill and execution in 
 either of thofe arts, would not a whole 
 life fpent in the purfuit make a fmaller 
 
 pro-
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 167 
 
 progrefs than a fingle year under a good 
 matter ? And (hall a greater advance be 
 expected from a man's 'own labour in an 
 art infinitely more complicated in it's prin- 
 ciples, and difficult in it's execution ? This is 
 the manner in which Cicero has account- 
 ed for it's low (late in the time of his pre- 
 decefTors : * *Ac primo quidem totius rati- 
 c onis ignari, qui neque exercitationis ullam 
 ' vim, neque aliquod praeceptum artis effe 
 e arbitrarentur, tantum, quantum ingenio 
 * & cogitatione poterant, confequebantur.' 
 Or have we reafon to fuppofe, that if pro - 
 per matters were provided to inftruc~l them 
 by precept, to model them by example, 
 and perfect them by practice, that the 
 Britim youth would not burn with as ar- 
 dent a defire as the Roman to furnifti 
 themfelves with fo necefTary an accom- 
 plifhment ? This is the more likely, as it 
 might be proved from the nature of the 
 Britim conttitution, that their toil and 
 labour in arriving at a fufficient degree of 
 perfection in this art, would not be in any 
 fort of proportion to thofe of the antients; 
 that the opportunities of difplaying it 
 
 * Vid. p. 1 60. 
 
 M 4 would
 
 j68 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 would be more frequent, and upon fub- 
 jedls of more importance ; and rhat th6 
 rewards, whether of honour or profit, 
 would be as great and certain. Can it be 
 believed in fuch a cafe, that the young 
 nobleman, born to be one of the legifla- 
 ture, or the commoner who may hope to 
 be elected into that body, or the lawyer 
 who is to plead at the bar, would not each 
 apply himielf to the ftudy of an art, at- 
 tended with fuch pleafure to themfelves 
 as well as to their hearers -, and produc- 
 tive of fuch honour and profit to them in 
 the reft of their lives ? Is it to be thought 
 (fetting afide all other confidcrations) that 
 felf-intereft alone would not incite every 
 perfon deftined for holy orders, to pro- 
 cure a talent which he mould have as 
 many opportunities of difplaying, as he 
 performs acts of duty ? Would not this 
 be the means of making many of them 
 confpicuous in life, who now pafs their 
 days in obfcurity, or contempt ? Might 
 not fuch as had abilities to diftinguiili 
 themielves by writing, % by the ftudy of 
 this art, ftill make their writings more 
 poliftied and agreeable to the prefent age, 
 
 as
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 169 
 
 as well as more worthy to be tranfmitted 
 to 'pofteriiy ? And would they not thus 
 be doubly armed in defence of their caufe ? 
 Might not others unpofTerTed of fufficient 
 talents to make themfelves confpicuous 
 by writing, flill be diftinguifhed by the 
 powers of oratory alone, enjoying at lead a 
 prefent fame, and doing great fervice to 
 the prefent generation ? Might not powers 
 in preaching be a furer means of gaining 
 preferment than talents in writing ? And 
 whilft each received a particular benefit 
 and advantage to himfelf, what luftre 
 would not their endeavours reflect upon 
 their whole order ? And how would the 
 common caufe be fupported by their joint 
 labours ? If Cicero's opinion be juft, how 
 many * ornaments might they not add to 
 the whole (late ? If he thought a lingle 
 orator of excellence was of fuch mo- 
 ment to the welfare of the community, 
 how much more benefit to the publick 
 might be derived from the united force of 
 a number all aiming at the fame end ? 
 How applicable to them would his fen- 
 
 * Tantum ego in excellente oratore, & eodem viro 
 bono pono efle ornamentf univerfs civitati. Deorat. 1. z. 
 
 3 tence
 
 170 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 tence be, where he fays, c I lay it down as 
 c a maxim, that on the flcill and wifdom 
 ' of a complete orator, not only his own 
 f perfonal dignity, but the welfare of many 
 ' individuals, and the fafety of the whole 
 * ftate, in a great meafure depend/ Or 
 if this were applied to fuch as are in the 
 legiflature, would it not be equally juft ? 
 The ufe and neceffity of it to the ftate in 
 the members of that body are fo apparent, 
 that they need fcarce be mentioned. They 
 are the grand council of the nation, and 
 in a multitude of counfellors, it is faid, 
 there is fafety. To be a counfellor, it is 
 neceffary that a man fhould be able to give 
 counfel ; if this be eflential, how much 
 is the number of ours diminimed ? How 
 many men of wifdom and virtue have 
 fate in that affembly, who from this inca- 
 pacity to difcharge their office, were of 
 no more benefit to the publick than the 
 meaneft members in it ? How many fhin- 
 ing talents have been there buried in 
 lilence, like thofe of Mr. Addifon, thro' a 
 falfe fhame, arifing from the want of 
 knowlege and practice in the art of fpeak- 
 ing in publick ? How many perfons of 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 171 
 
 the higheft abilities, capable of drawing 
 fenates after them, and giving a turn to 
 debates, have been there hid in the crowd, 
 thro' this defect, and reduced only to the 
 power of a (ingle voice ? Reduced to a 
 fingle unit, when by the addition of the 
 oratorial powers they might arife to an 
 indefinite value. If in the multitude of 
 counfellors there be fafety, will not the 
 flate be in danger, in proportion as their 
 number is reduced ? Would it not be ea- 
 iier for wicked and designing men to ac- 
 complifh their ends in that cafe ? And 
 when the counfellors of weight and 
 power are but few, might not a confede- 
 racy amongft them eafily ruin the ftate ? 
 Is it not to be fuppofed, that felfim men 
 who have views oppofite to the publick 
 good, will labour with all their might to 
 acquire the management of a weapon, 
 by which alone they can carry their points, 
 und mall the guardians of the publick have 
 no arms to oppofe them ? Should we not 
 in this cafe fay with St. Auftin, * Since 
 
 * therefore eloquence, which has a prodi- 
 
 * gious power in perfuading people either 
 
 * to true or falfe opinions, lies open to all 
 
 ' who
 
 UTAO.UQ 
 i 7 * BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 i. *f /"\/"t * 
 
 ' who are inclined to make ufe of it, what 
 c can he the reafon that the good do not 
 c employ themfelves in acquiring an art 
 c fo neceflary for the defence of truth ? 
 
 j 
 
 Especially when it is confidered, that the 
 ' wicked ufe it with fuccefs, in defending 
 c injuflice, in eftablifhing error, and in 
 ' accomplifhing their pernicious defigns.' 
 
 Upon the whole, when it is confidered 
 that the members of the two moft necef- 
 fary profeffions to fociety, the church and 
 the law, to whofe care all the fpiritual and 
 temporal concerns of mankind are com- 
 mitted j and that they who compofe the 
 grand council of the nation, upon whom 
 the welfare and fafety of the flate depend, 
 can not pombly discharge their duty 
 without ikill in fpeaking, it may be mat- 
 ter of the higheft aftonimment that this 
 art has never hitherto been fludied in 
 Great Britain. Should we hear of any 
 country where the profeflbrs of mufick, 
 or painting, never confider the principles 
 of their arts, or reduce their practice to 
 rule, but are content to follow fuch mor 
 dels and patterns as chance has thrown in 
 their way, how mould we pity their ig- 
 norance,
 
 CHAP. XVI. EDUCATION. 273 
 
 norance, and laugh at their abfurdity ? 
 And yet this practice is not fo contrary 
 to common fenfe as ours, inafmuch as 
 the art of which we are fpeaking, is of all 
 others the moil difficult to be attained 
 without rules j and inafmuch as the want 
 of fkill in it is attended with the word 
 confequences, and greatefl dangers to the 
 flare. 
 
 Let us now take a fliort furvey of what 
 has hitherto been done. The principal 
 point in view was to prove^ that fome of 
 the greateft evils in the ftate arofe from a 
 defective education. In order to do this 
 it has been laid down as a maxim, that 
 no ftate can thrive unlefs the education of 
 youth be fuited to it's principle. It has 
 been endeavoured to be proved, that no 
 principle could pofTibly fupport our con- 
 flitution but that of religion j and it has 
 been mewn, that religion can not be up- 
 held without fkill in oratory, in it's mi- 
 nifters. It has been fhewn alfo, that the 
 knowlege of that art is equally neceflary 
 in thofe who compofe the legiflative body, 
 and arc confequently the guardians of the 
 (late. So far therefore as the fupport of 
 
 it's
 
 , 74 BRITISH BOOK I. 
 
 it's principle is neceflary to the preferva- 
 tion of the ftate, and fo far as a proper 
 difcharge of their duty in it's guardians iff 
 neceffary to it's fafety, fo far is the fludy 
 of oratory eflential to the very being of 
 the Britiih conftltution. Let us now con- 
 fider how far it may contribute to it's 
 well-being, and to it's flourifhing condi- 
 tion. In order to do this, I {hall in the 
 next place endeavour to mew it's ufe in 
 regard to language, and confequently to 
 knowlege; and afterwards confider how far 
 it may contribute to the improvement of 
 the liberal arts, and confequently to polite- 
 nefs. 
 
 END of the FIRST BOOK. 
 
 B R I-
 
 EDUCATION,^. 
 
 BOOK II. criAP. L 
 
 Of the excellence and ufe of the Greek and 
 Roman languages. 
 
 IT was to the care taken in the cultiva- 
 tion of their languages, that Greece, 
 and Rome, owed that fplendor, which 
 eclipfed all the other nations of the world. 
 By that, they have triumphed over time 
 and oblivion* and jftill maintain a fuperi- 
 ority over all ages, either before or fince. 
 Other countries may have produced even 
 greater law-givers, commanders, and phi- 
 lofophers, whofe inflitutions, actions and 
 
 knowlege,
 
 176 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 knowlege, might be far fuperior to theirs ; 
 but they alone had the art of difplaying 
 thofe in the beft light to the world, and 
 of perpetuating them to the end of time. 
 The conquefts of Ninus, Sefoftris, Cyrus, 
 and many more, might have far exceed- 
 ed thofe of their greater! heroes j and yet 
 is it not owins; to the Greek language that 
 
 o o o 
 
 any traces of them remain, or that even 
 their names are handed down to us ? 
 
 In the latter ages, what mighty heroes 
 have arifen, whofe actions may in them- 
 felves be far fuperior to any of antiquity ? 
 And yet are the great exploits of Odin, 
 Tamerlane, and Almanzor, as well known 
 to the world as thofe of Alexander and 
 Caefar? What mining and remarkable ex- 
 amples of heroick virtue have not the an- 
 nals of our chrifti^n potentates afforded r 
 Such as Scanderbeg, Henry the fourth 
 of France, Guftavus Adolphus of Sweden, 
 the Black Prince, and Henty the fifth of 
 our own country, William prince of 
 Orange,founder of the Belgick ftate,and our 
 ever memorable K. William the third, the 
 preferver of the liberties of Europe ; with 
 many more, who upon a fair comparifon 
 
 would
 
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 177 
 would not yjeld to the greateft names of 
 antiquity. And yet are thefe ranked in 
 the vyorld in the fame clafs with Leonidas, 
 Epaminondas, Scipio, Cato, and the army 
 of patriots which the antient writers have 
 drawn out ? On the contrary, how little dd 
 we know in general, of .the hiftory of our 
 own times, tho' that be moft What im- 
 ports us, or of the exploits of thofe to 
 whom we are moft indebted for the 
 worldly Herrings we enjoy; whilft the 
 names and actions even of thofe who lived 
 in the dark and fabulous ages of the Greek. 
 and Roman ftory, are familiar to the 
 mouths of all men ? Who is there that 
 can not fperk of Hercules, Thefeus, Ro- 
 mulus, the Horatii, Codes, and a thou- 
 fand others, whofe actions as referred to 
 them may not only be doubted, but the 
 very exigence of many of the perfons, as 
 in the heroes df the Iliad ? Yet thefe are 
 all configned to immortality, only by be- 
 ing recorded in thofe ever living languages, 
 as if their writers had the power of Midas, 
 of turning all they touched into gold. 
 
 It is well known that Greece borrowed 
 all her civil and political inftitutions, her 
 N knowlege
 
 178 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 knowlege in philofophy, and the fciences, 
 
 from other countries ; particularly /Egypt 
 
 and Phoenicia. And yet what authors of 
 
 thofe countries have come down to us 
 
 containing their ftores of knowlege ? 
 
 Would they not have been entirely loft 
 
 to us, mould we even know that they had 
 
 ever flourifhed there, had it not been for 
 
 the Greek language ? Was it not by 
 
 means of that alone that Greece enriched 
 
 herfelfwith the fpoils of all nations, pre- 
 
 ferved the collected treafures of ages from 
 
 corruption, and decay ; and handed down 
 
 the rich bequeft to lateft pofterity ? 
 
 Sir William Temple, in his EfTay on 
 antient and modern learning, does not 
 fcruple to affirm, that it is to the two 
 languages of Greece and Rome we are in- 
 debted for all we have of learning, or an- 
 tient records in the world ; and that with- 
 out them, the world in all thefe weftern 
 parts would hardly have been known to 
 have been above five or fix hundred years 
 Id, nor any certainty remain of what 
 pafled in it before that time. 
 
 Mutt not the antients therefore have 
 looked upon their language as thejr great- 
 eft
 
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 179 
 
 eft treafure, which enabled them to hand 
 down fuch bleffings together with their 
 own memories, to the end of time ; 
 which at once furnimed them with the 
 means of acquiring and preferving know- 
 lege, and of difplaying it in the moft beau- 
 tiful and lading colours ; which Was the 
 fource of fome of their higheft delights 
 and enjoyments, and one of the greateft 
 excitements to virtue and praife-worthy 
 deeds ? For what could more powerfully 
 inflame men with the defire of perform- 
 ing glorious actions, than the certainty of 
 the gratification of one of the ftrongeft 
 paflions, the love of fame - y of having 
 thofe actions blazon'd to the world not 
 only in their own times, but thro' all fu- 
 ture generations ? And would not the mo- 
 tives be equally ilrong in the poets and 
 hiftorians, to record thofe actions ? Thus 
 the hero, and the writer, mutually affift- 
 ed each other in their flights j not like the 
 twin brothers, dividing their immortality, 
 but always mining together, and mutually 
 reflecting luftre on each other. What in- 
 ducement could be fo flrong to writers 
 upon any fubject to labour at perfection, 
 N 2 or
 
 i8o BRITISH BOOK II, 
 or what could fo effectually flatter and 
 encourage them in their toilfome tafk, as 
 the confederation that the materials with 
 which they wrought were as durable as the 
 world itfelf j which neither the ruft of 
 time could devour, nor the force of arms 
 deftroy ? It was this which made Horace 
 exulting fay, 
 
 c Exegi monumentum aere perennius/ 
 And Ovid in the fame ftrain, 
 ' Jamque opus exegi, quod nee Jovis ira, 
 
 ( nee ignis, 
 
 c Nee potent ferrum, nee edax abolere 
 c vetuftas.' 
 
 On the contrary, what difcouragements 
 muft thofe writers lie under, who have 
 only changeable and perifhable materials 
 to work upon ? Whofe fame is circum- 
 fcribed as much in fpace as in time ; con- 
 fined to two iflands in the one, to a cen- 
 tury, or little more, in the other. Can we 
 fuppofe that artifts would take the fame 
 pains to finim carvings in wood, as in brafs 
 or marble ? What Dr. Swift has faid of 
 our hiftorians may be applied to our 
 writers in general* 
 
 'How
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 181 
 
 4 How (hall any man, who hath a ge- 
 
 * nius for hiftory, equal to the beft of the 
 c antients, be able to undertake fuch a 
 ' work with fpirit and chearfulnefs, when 
 
 * he confiders, that he will be read with 
 c pleafure but a very few years, and in an 
 1 age or two fhall hardly be underftood 
 ' without an interpreter ? This is like em- 
 c ploying an excellent ftatuary to work 
 ' upon mouldring ftone. Thofe who ap- 
 1 ply their (Indies to preferve the memory 
 c of others, will always have fome concern 
 ' for their own. And I believe it is for this 
 
 * reafon, that fo few writers among us, 
 c of any diftinction, have turned their 
 ' thoughts to fuch a difcouraging employ- 
 ' ment : for the beft Englim hiftorian 
 ' muft lie under this mortification, that 
 c when his ftile grows antiquated, he will 
 c be only conlidered as a tedious relater of 
 1 fafts j and perhaps confulted in his turn, 
 1 among other neglected authors, to fur- 
 
 * nidi materials for fome future collector.' 
 
 It was not then to fuperior knowlege, 
 lltill in fciences, or pre-eminence in virtue, 
 that the Greeks and Romans owed the 
 diftinguifhed rank which they have ever 
 N 3 held
 
 x82 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 held above all other mortals j it was to 
 their language alone, without which the 
 higheft degree of wifdom and virtue, are 
 as evanefcent as their pofleflbrs. It is by 
 that only the fouls of men acquire an im- 
 mortality even in this world, as by that 
 their ideas appear for ever in equal frem- 
 jiefs, and operate with equal force, when, 
 their bodies are mixed with the common 
 .mafs of matter. * ' All other arts of perpe- 
 c tuating our ideas continue but a {hort 
 
 * time: flatues can laft but a few thou- 
 
 * fands of years, edifices fewer, and colours 
 
 * ftill fewer than edifices. Michael An- 
 
 * gelo, Fontana, and Raphael, will here- 
 
 * after be what Phidias, Vitruvius, and 
 ' Apelles are at prefent, the names of 
 ' great ftatuarieo, architects, and painters, 
 
 * whofe works are loft. The circum- 
 
 * ftance which gives authors an advantage 
 c above all thefe great mailers, is this, that 
 
 * they can multiply their originals j or ra^ 
 
 * ther can make copies of their works to 
 what number they pleafe, which fhall 
 be as valuable as the originals them- 
 felves.' 
 
 f Sped. No. 166. 
 
 The
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 183 
 
 The ingenious author of the above paf- 
 foge has put this matter into the following 
 beautiful light. , Ariftotle tells us, that 
 4 the world is a copy or tranfcript of thofe 
 { ideas which are in the mind of the 
 
 * firft Being ; and that thofe ideas which. 
 ( are in the mind of man, are a tranfcript 
 c of the world : to this we may add, 
 
 * that words are the tranfcript of thofe 
 ' ideas which are in the mind of man, and 
 ' that writing or printing are the tran- 
 
 * fcript of words. 
 
 c As the fupreme Being has exprefled, 
 'and as it were printed his ideas in the 
 c creation, men exprefs their ideas in 
 c books, which by this great invention of 
 
 * thefe latter ages, may laft as long as the 
 c fun, and moon, and perifh only in the 
 ' general wreck of nature. Thus Cowley 
 4 in his poem on the refurreclion, men- 
 1 tioning the definition of the univerfe, 
 ' has thofe admirable lines : 
 
 * Now all the wide extended fky, 
 
 * And all th'harmonious worlds on 
 
 * And Virgil's facred work {hall die/ 
 
 N 4 Ought
 
 184 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 Ought it not therefore to be the fir ft 
 care of a nation that is ambitious to diftin- 
 guim itfelf in the world,, to cultivate and re- 
 fine their language, and reduce it to a cer- 
 tain ftandard ; by which alone a perfect 
 tranfcript of all the great geniufes born 
 among/I them can be preferved, to be a 
 perpetual ornament and fupport to the 
 ftate, to furnim precepts and models to all ' 
 future generations ? It is true, that there 
 are but few countries in the world, let 
 them be ever fo defirous of it, or ufe ever 
 fo much pains, which can attain this inefti- 
 mable bleffing. The original coijftruclion, 
 of their language often renders it impracti- 
 cable, and where this is not the cafe, other 
 caufes interfere. The diamond alone 
 will bear that high polifh which gives it 
 it's fuperlative luftre, and extraordinary 
 value ; and yet before the art of pol idling 
 it was difcovered, the diamond itfelf was 
 of no higher eftimation than common 
 pebbles. It is certain, that out of the 
 great variety of languages fpoken by the 
 infinite number of nations with which this 
 
 globe
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 185 
 globe has been peopled, only two have 
 arrived at fuch a pitch of perfection as to 
 furvive thofe who fpoke them, fo as to be 
 a neceflary part of the ftudy of all fuch as 
 had leifure to apply themfelves to books, 
 and would gain the reputation of being 
 learned. To the perfection of thefe lan- 
 guages there was a concurrence of caufes. 
 
 t> O ' 
 
 which perhaps had never met before or 
 fince in any age, or country, Great Britain 
 alone excepted. If therefore it can be 
 ihewn, that all the favourable circum- 
 ftances which confpired to the refinement 
 and eftablimment of theirs, are rather 
 more flrong with us ; that the means are 
 equally in our power of rendering it as 
 perfect, as extenfive, and as durable as 
 theirs ; would it not be the greateft ab- 
 furdity in us to forego a point thro* want 
 of a little pains, which would be attended 
 with fuch immediate advantage and plea- 
 fure to us ? And could it not be an un- 
 pardonable omiffion in us to neglect tranf- 
 mitting to our fucceflbrs the nobleit le- 
 gacy we could bequeath ? 
 
 Let
 
 j86 BRITISH BOOK IT. 
 
 Let us examine therefore by what 
 means thofe two languages arrived at 
 their high degree of perfection, and fee 
 whether thofe means are not equally in 
 our power, and would not in all proba- 
 bility be equally effectual with us. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 tfbat the perfection of the Greek and Ro- 
 man languages 'was chiefly owing to the 
 fludy and practice of orator y> 
 
 THERE can not be a ftr.onger pre- 
 fumptive proof of this, than is at 
 once offered to our view, when we con- 
 ficler that thefe were the only nations upon 
 earth who ever ftudied oratory as an art, 
 and that thefe were the only two who 
 ever brought their language to perfection. 
 But in regard to the Roman language 
 we can give a more abfolute proof, as the 
 refinement of that can be affigned to no 
 other caufe. From the time of Romulus 
 to the days of Scipio, it was perpetually 
 varying, as much as the Englim has done 
 in an equal fpace ; fothat at any given period, 
 
 4 i J a * 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 187 
 
 the language written two centuries before 
 was not intelngible but by antiquarians, 
 till after the Greek rhetoricians had intro- 
 duced the ftudy of eloquence. At that 
 time their language- was ftill rude, un- 
 cultivated, and barbarous ; yet in lefs than 
 fourfcore years from the introduction of 
 that fludy, it arrived at the pitch of per- 
 fection in which we find it in the Cice- 
 ronian age ; and which was perhaps in* 
 capable of improvement. The Greek in- 
 deed is harder to be traced to it's fource, 
 as neither books nor hiftory afford us fuf- 
 ficient lights into the times previous to it's 
 perfection ; the oldeft authentick book 
 handed down to us being that of Homer; 
 fo that we can form no judgement how 
 long the language had been polimed be- 
 fore his time. But even from his writ- 
 ings we may eafily fee, that oratory had 
 flourifhed long before his days, and may 
 therefore with the higheft probability 
 affign it to the fame caufe. * ' Homer 
 
 * Neque enim jam Troicis temporibus tantum laudis 
 in dicendo Ulyffi tribuiflet Homerus, & Neltori, quorum 
 alterum vim habere voluit, alterum fuavitatem, nifi jam 
 turn effet honos eloquentiae : neque ipfe poeta hie tarn 
 ornams in dicendo, ac plane orator fuiflet. 
 
 ' would
 
 188 R I r 1 S H BOOK II. 
 ' would not have beftowed fuch praifes 
 
 * upon Ulyfles and Neftor for their elo- 
 ' quence, even at the time of the Trojan 
 c war, one of whom he defcribes as a 
 ' nervous, the other as a perfuafive fpeaker, 
 ' if eloquence had not even at that time 
 
 * been in high repute. Nor could the 
 ' poet himfelf other wife have produced 
 1 fuch finifhed fpeeches, and appeared fo 
 
 * plainly the orator.' 
 
 When it is confidered that the dates of 
 Greece confifted for the moft pant of re- 
 publicks, who were led and governed by 
 the publick fpeakers, it muft be allowed 
 that the practice of oratory was almoft 
 coeval with the flares, and confequently 
 that it muft have been the chief means of 
 refining their language. Language being 
 the principal weapon of the orator, it was 
 more immediately his concern that it 
 ihould be well tempered and polimed, 
 and made fit for ufe. This will be made 
 more evident upon a view of the points 
 which are effential to it's perfection. When 
 language is confidered as the tranfcript of 
 our ideas, the more perfect a language is, 
 the more, exact will the tranfcript be. 
 
 Language
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 189 
 
 Language is compofed of words. In words 
 two things are to be confidered, fenfe and 
 found. The fenfe regards the intellectual 
 faculty only, as they are arbitrary marks 
 by which the ideas of one mind are com- 
 municated to another. Their found re- 
 gards alone the fenlitive faculty of hearing, 
 thro' which they are communicated. The 
 fenfe may therefore be confidered as the 
 foul of words, the found as the body. And 
 as in life to make a perfect man there 
 muft be the { Mem fana in corpore fano* 
 the fame is alfo requifite to the perfection. 
 of language. In both cafes the ftrong 
 and graceful ftructure of the body, the 
 perfect ufe of the members, and the ap- 
 titude and vigour of the organs, are ne- 
 ceffary to difplay the intellect in it's full 
 force and beauty. When language is con- 
 fidered in regard to the fenfe of words, 
 two points are neceflary, precifion, and 
 copioufnefs. Precifion, that the fame 
 words may raiie the fame ideas in the 
 minds of the hearers, as are in that of the 
 fpeaker, otherwife he would not be un- 
 derftood. Copioufnefs, that every idea 
 of the mind may have it's mark, otherwife 
 
 a per-
 
 190 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 a perfect tranfcript of it could not be 
 made, Confidered in regard to found, 
 there are alfo two points of chief moment, 
 diftinclion, and agreeablenefs. Diftinc- 
 tion, that one word thro' a fimilitude of 
 found may not be miftaken for another, 
 which would confound the fenfe j agree- 
 ablenefs, that attention may be kept up 
 by the pleafure of hearing, which other- 
 wife might grow weary, and in any length 
 of time be difgufted, as the operation :n 
 itfelf is painful. When language is con- 
 fidered in this light, to whom are all thefc 
 points fo neceffary as to the orator ? To 
 be well underftood, and heard with de- 
 light, are erTential to him. This could not 
 be unlefs the words he ufed excited the 
 fame ideas in the minds of his heart vs, 
 and unlefs the founds of which they were 
 compofed were agreeable to the ear. Per- 
 haps it may be faid, that thefe are as ne- 
 ceffary to the poets and other writers, as 
 to the orators. To fuch as recited their 
 works I grant it would, for in that inftance 
 they apply to the art of oratory. But in 
 regard to fuch vvhofe works are fubmitted 
 to the eyes of readers, the argument 
 
 will
 
 CHAP. II. EDUCATION. 1:9.1 
 will not bold good. To prove which; 
 amongft many others that might be 
 offered, the following plain reafons will 
 be fufficient. In the firft place, clear- 
 nefs is not fo abfolutely necefTary to the 
 writer, for let his language he ever fo ob- 
 fcure, his reader may flop, and take 
 what time he pleafes to find out his mean- 
 ing j whereas it is necefTary to the orator 
 that his hearer fhould be able to accom- 
 pany him, and that what he fays mould 
 be underftood in the fame fpace of time 
 that it is uttered. Nor is agreeablenefs 
 of found fo neceffary to the writer as to 
 the fpeaker, as that is generally fubmitted 
 to a fenfe which can not judge of it. The 
 eye can look without pain at many hard 
 uncouth combinations of fyllables and 
 words, which the tongue could not pro- 
 nounce but with difficulty, and which 
 would confequently be difagreeable to the 
 ear. As therefore we muft fuppofe that- 
 all the men of the greateil genius and 
 abilities which Greece produced, were 
 necefTarily interested, and employed, 
 in improving, refining, and cftablilhing 
 their language, we need not wonder that 
 
 it
 
 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 it "was foon brought to perfection, and 
 that it lafted with hardly any variation for 
 more than a thoufand years, from Homer 
 to Plutarch, and how long before we 
 know not. One argument to prove the 
 point fet forth in the head of this chap- 
 ter ought not to be omitted, that in 
 Athens, where eloquence and oratory were 
 moft ftudied, they were allowed alfo to 
 fpeak the pureft and corredteft language 
 of all Greece. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 hat the Greek and Roman languages owed 
 their ft ability and permanence to oratory. 
 With fame animadverfions upon the ncgleff 
 of ftudying the Englijh language. 
 
 THE fame means which brought 
 thefe languages to a ftate of per- 
 fection, were alfo neceffary to preferve 
 them in that ftate. As the practice of 
 orators had introduced the ftudy of lan- 
 guage, which was the caufe of it's refine- 
 ment, fo when it was refined to the ut- 
 mofl, the neceflity of continuing the 
 
 ftudy
 
 . 
 
 
 CHAP. III. EDUCATION. 193 
 ftudy of language was greater than before, 
 For the tafte of the people being now 
 much improved and refined, by conftant- 
 ly hearing fuch as fpoke in the mod pure 
 and perfect manner, would immediately 
 be fenfible of the lead deviation from what 
 was right, and be offended at any im- 
 proper tone, or ufe of words in their pub- 
 lick fpeakers. There are many inftances 
 recorded of their great delicacy in this 
 refpecl. The ftory of the old Athenian 
 herb-woman and Theophraftus is well 
 known. J * That old woman called 
 
 * Theophraftus (a man in general rernark- 
 ' able for elocution) a ftranger, only on 
 ' account of obferving in him too nice an 
 ' exactnefs in the pronunciation of a iingle 
 ' word j and being afked her reafon, faid 
 1 me had no other, but that he fpoke too 
 
 * Attically.' Cicero fays of the Athenians 
 in general, Atticorum aures teretes & re- 
 ligiofe. He mews alfo that the Ro- 
 mans in his time were as nice, when he 
 
 J Quomodo & Ula Attica anus Theophrafhim, homi- 
 nem alioque difTertiflimuin, annotata unius afFeftatione 
 verbi, hofpitem dixit: necaliud fe id deprehendifle interro- 
 gata refpondit, quam cjuod minium Attice ioquerecur. Quin- 
 til. J. 8. c. i. 
 
 O fays,
 
 'BRITISH BOOK II. 
 {ays, '*(- * that in the repetition of a verfe 
 1 the whole theatre was in an uproar, if 
 ' a fingle fyllable was pronounced a : 
 ' little longer or Shorter than it ought to 
 
 * be. Not that the crowd was at all ac- 
 
 * quainted with the quantity of poetick 
 "* feet, or had any notion of numbers j 
 * nor could they tell what it was which 
 
 * gave them offence, or why, or in what 
 ' refpecl it was a fault/ Whence could 
 this arife but from that general good tafte 
 infufed into them by being habituated to 
 hear nothing but what was pure and cor- 
 rect ? and how much pains muft have 
 been taken by fuch as intended to fpeak in 
 publick, with refpect to pronunciation, 
 when the leafl deviation from propriety 
 would be perceived by the mean eft of the 
 people ? Accordingly we find, that after 
 the care of their morals, this was the 
 principal object of attention in the educa- 
 tion of youth, whofe chief employment 
 was the itudy of their own language. 
 
 -\- In verfu quidem theatra tota rccbmant, fi fuit una 
 fyllaba ant btcvior r.ut longior. Ncc vcro multitude) pc- 
 dts ncvit, nee. uilos numercs tci.ct : ncc illud, c^uod of- 
 fendit, awt cyr, aiit in auo oiFehdat, ktciliglt. DC orat. 
 
 The
 
 CHAP. III. EDUCATION. 195 
 The Greeks ftudied only their own, and 
 confequently had much labour faved. The 
 Romans ftudied the Greek, * but it was 
 only with a view to improvement in the 
 knowlege of their own, which had ever 
 the preference with them, and employed 
 the greateft part of their time* They 
 took fuch care with refpect to pronunciation 
 that it extended even to their choice of 
 nurfes and fervants, who were to be about 
 them in their infant age ||. What mail 
 we fay then to our practice, fo contrary to 
 that of thofe poliflied nations, which we 
 admire fo much, and pretend to emulate ; 
 who take great pains in ftudying all lan- 
 guages but our own ? Who are very nice 
 and curious in our choice of preceptors for 
 the antient and modern tongues, yet fuf- 
 
 * A fermone Grzco puerum inciperc malo non longs 
 Latina fubfequi debent, & cito pariter ire. Quint. 1. i. c. z. 
 
 || Ante omnia ne fit vitiofus fermo nutricibus. Has 
 primum audiet puer, harum verba effingere imitando co- 
 nabitur. Non affuefcat ergo, nedum infans quidem eft, 
 fermoni qui dedifcendus eft. Multa linguae vitia, ni/i 
 primis eximuntur atmis, inemendabili in poilerum pra- 
 vitate durantur. Si tamen non continget quales maxime 
 velim haberc nutrices, pueros, pa:dagogos; at utms certe 
 fit afliduus, dicendi non imperitus : qui, fi quse crunt ab 
 his przfente alumno drfta vitiofe, corrig-.t protinus, nee 
 rfidere ill; linat. <^uint 1. i. c. i, <t 2. 
 
 O 2 fer
 
 196 BRITISH BOOK II 
 fcr our children to be vitiated in the very 
 firft principles of our own, by commit- 
 ting them to the care of fome of the mofl 
 ignorant and loweft of mankind. Is it be- 
 caufe that the knowlege of our language is 
 foeafily acquired, that it can fcarce be miff- 
 ed ? This furelv can not be faid, when it 
 
 J 
 
 is univerfally allowed, that there are 
 hardly any who fpeak or write it correctly. 
 Is it becaufe we have lefs ufe for it than 
 any other ? Can that be fuppofed, when 
 it is the only one ufed upon all important 
 as well as common occafions of life ? 
 When we confider that after the Greek 
 and Roman languages were brought to a 
 ftandard of perfection, when their youth 
 had the advantage of eftablifhed invariable 
 rules upon which to found their know- 
 lege ; of able preceptors to inftruct and 
 guide them ; of the nobleft examples and 
 moil perfect patterns for their imitation ; 
 that with all thefe aids they ftill found it 
 neceflary to apply a great portion of their 
 time in their more adult years, to make 
 themfelves mafters of it -, (hall we who 
 have none of thefe advantages, without 
 any pains or application expect to have a 
 
 competeat
 
 II aoo8 " . \ * 
 
 CHAP. III. EDUCATION, 197 
 
 competent knowlege of one, which in it's 
 prefent ftate is far more difficult to be learn- 
 ed than theirs ? This omiffion inour edu- 
 cation is the more wonderful, whether we 
 confider the great importance of the point 
 to the ftate in general, or it's univer&l ufe 
 to all the individuals who compofe it. 
 Mr. Locke has reprefented and complain- 
 ed of this defect in the ftrongeft terms. 
 4 To write and fpeak correctly, gives a 
 c grace, and gains a favourable attention 
 1 to what one has to fay : and fince 'tis En- 
 c glifli that an Englifh gentleman will 
 1 have conftant ufe of, that is the lan- 
 c guage he mould chiefly cultivate, and 
 c wherein moil care fliould be taken to 
 ' polifh and perfect his ftyle. To fpeak 
 1 or write better Latin than Englim, 
 c may make a man be talked cf, but he 
 
 * will find it more to his purpofe, 
 e to exprefs himfelf well in his own 
 tongue, that he ufes every moment, 
 1 than to have the vain commendation of 
 ' others for a very iniignificant quality. 
 *.This I find univerfally neglected, nor no 
 
 * care taken any where to improve young 
 *men in their own language, that they 
 
 O 3 { may
 
 i 9 3 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 ' may thoroughly underftand and be mafters 
 
 * of it. If any one among us have a fa- 
 
 * cility or purity more than ordinary in his 
 ' mother tongue, it is owing to chance, 
 c or his genius, or any thing, rather than 
 ' his education, or any care of his teacher. 
 ' To mind what Englifh his pupil fpeaks 
 
 * or writes, is below the dignity of one 
 
 * bred up amongft Greek and Latin* tho' 
 < he have but little of them himfelf. 
 f Thefe are the learned languages fit only 
 
 * for learned men to meddle with and 
 c teach ; Englifh is the language of 
 1 illiterate vulgar : tho' yet we fee the 
 ' polity of fome of our neighbours hath 
 
 * not thought it beneath the publick care 
 c to promote and reward the improvement 
 e of their own language. Polifhing and 
 
 * enriching their tongue is no fmall bufi- 
 c nefs amongft them > it hath colleges and 
 ' ftipends appointed it, and there is raifed 
 
 * amongft them a great ambition and emu- 
 lation of writing correctly : and we fee 
 ' what they are come to by it, and how 
 ' far they have fpread one of the worft 
 languages poffibly in this part of the 
 ' world, if we look upon it as it was in 
 
 * fome
 
 CHAP. III. EDUCATION. 199 
 
 ' fome few reigns backwards, whatever it 
 4 be now. The great' men among the 
 c Romans were daily exercifing themfelves 
 ' in their own language j and we find yet 
 
 * upon record, the names of orators, who 
 c taught fome of their emperors Latin, 
 e tho* it were their mother tongue. 
 
 4 'Tis plain the Greeks were yet more 
 
 * nice in theirs ; all other fpeech was bar- 
 1 barous to them but their own, and no fo* 
 c reign language appears to have been flu- 
 ' died or valued amongft that learned and 
 ' acute people ; tho' it be paft doubt that 
 c they borrowed their learning and philo- 
 ' fophy from abroad. 
 
 ' I am not here fpeaking againft Greek 
 < and Latin ; I think they ought to be 
 c frudied, and the Latin at leaft under- 
 c flood well by every gentleman. But 
 ' whatever foreign languages a young man 
 
 * meddles with (and the more he kno\vs 
 the better) that which he fliould critri- 
 
 * cally ftudy, and labour to get a facility, 
 
 * clearnefs, and elegancy to exprefs hini' 
 ' felf iii, fliould be his own, and to this 
 
 * purpofe he mould daily be exercifed 
 
 1 in it.' 
 
 . - 
 
 04 In
 
 BRITISH BOOK- It 
 In another place he fays, * There can 
 1 fcarce be a greater defect in a gentleman, 
 ' than not to exprefs himfelf well either in 
 c writing or fpeaking. But yet I think, I 
 
 * may afk my reader, whether he doth not 
 ' know a great many, who live upon their 
 
 * eftates, and fo, with the name, mould 
 ' have the qualities of gentlemen, who 
 ' can not fo much as tell a ftory as they 
 c mould, much lefs fpeak clearly, and 
 
 * perfualively in any bufmefs. This I 
 
 * think not to be fo much their fault as 
 ' the fault of their education ; for I muft 
 
 * without partiality do my countrymen this 
 ' right, that where they apply themfelves, 
 ' I fee none of their neighbours outgo 
 
 * them. They have been taught rhetorick, 
 
 * butyet never taught how to exprefs them- 
 ' felves handfomely with their tongues- 
 
 * or pens in the language they are always 
 'to life; as if the names of the figures 
 *:that embellimed the difcourfes ofthofe 
 
 * who underflood the art of fpeaking, were 
 'the very art and fkill of fpeaking well. 
 ' This, as all other things of pradice, is to 
 
 * be learned not by a few or a great many 
 ' rules given, but by exercifc, and appli- 
 
 cation,
 
 CHAP. III. EDUCATION. 201 
 
 * cation, according to good rules, or rather 
 4 patterns, 'till habits are got, and a facility 
 'of doing it well.' 
 
 Mr. Addifon has many pafTages where- 
 in he lays open, and laments this defect; 
 and it is one of bimop Berkley's quaere's, 
 'Whether half the learning and fludy of 
 e thefe kingdoms is not ufelefs, for want of 
 ' a proper delivery, and pronunciation, 
 being taught in our fchools and colleges?' 
 Indeed there is not any one of the lead 
 underftanding, who has either wrote or 
 fpoke upon this fubject, that has not al- 
 lowed this fhameful neglect of our own 
 language to be one of the greateft of our 
 national evils. Is it not therefore afto- 
 niihing that no remedy has hitherto been 
 thought of ? Would it be credited, were 
 it not warranted by fact, that a polifhed 
 and rational people mould be at great ex- 
 pence of labour, time, and money, to have 
 their children inftructed in languages 
 which never can be of any ufe to them in 
 life, and feldom even contribute to their 
 pleafure ; whilft they neglect entirely to 
 have them inftructed in one which would 
 be of perpetual ufe or ornament to them, 
 
 in
 
 202 BRITISH BOOK II, 
 in whatever rank or flation they were 
 placed, upon matters of the higheft 
 importance, as well as the common oc- 
 currences of life ; and which might be a 
 principal means of procuring them profit 
 and promotion ? It may be laid by fome, 
 that being our mother tongue, we have 
 no occafion to learn it by rule, and that 
 without fludy, we mall of courfe acquire 
 a fufficient knowlege of it. But is this af- 
 fertion warranted by experience ? If the 
 contrary be true ; if it muft be allowed 
 that people are almoft univerfally defici- 
 ent both in understanding and fpeaking it, 
 the argument for ftudying it will be fo 
 much the ftronger on account of it's being 
 a mother tongue. Becaufe if it be gene- 
 rally ill fpoken, it will not be poffible but 
 that boys in their childhood, and youths 
 as they go more abroad into the world, 
 muft habitually fall into errors, and con- 
 tract bad cuftoms, which can be reme- 
 died by nothing but fludy and application. 
 Whereas there is no fuch danger in any 
 of the other languages, when learned from 
 the mouth of a judicious and fkilful mai- 
 ler. There are few fchools in thefe realms 
 
 which
 
 CHAP.HI. EDUCATION. 203 
 
 which may not bear teftimony to the truth 
 of this ; for in thofe it is a common ob- 
 fervation, that boys are often able to write 
 exercifes in pure and correct Latin, who 
 at the fame time can not exprefs their 
 thoughts with the leaft grace or propriety 
 in their own language. 
 
 Indeed itmight aftonifh any one to think, 
 that we mould Hill perfift in fo grofs an 
 error, who has not Sufficiently weighed 
 the force of fafhion, or confidered the 
 difficulty of making any alteration in na- 
 tional cuftoms * when they have been 
 once eftablimed. It may therefore be 
 worth while to trace this defect to it's 
 original, by which we may perceive, that 
 tho' our anceftors were wife in chufing 
 the method of education which they efta- 
 blimed in their days, as beft fuited to the 
 circumstances of the times, yet we are very 
 unwife in perfevering in the fame fyftem 
 without variation, when times and circum- 
 itances are fo much changed. The true 
 
 * Whoever has a mind to fee the power of cuflom fully 
 difplayed, and the f.ital confequences refulting from it, 
 in our prefeat method of education, may turn to a beau- 
 tiful poem on that fubjedt, written by Gilbert Welt, Efq; 
 and to be found in the 4th vol. of Dodfiey's Collection. 
 
 way
 
 oiTADuaa 
 
 204 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 way of imitating the wifdom of our fore- 
 fathers is, not to tread exactly in their 
 fleps, and to do the fame things in the 
 fame manner j but to aft in fuch a way , as 
 we might with reafon fuppofe they would, 
 did they live in thefe days, and things were 
 fofituated as they are atprefent. 
 fV : jv B ni eu o* 
 
 rli 3o Bj&rf psnflfim 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 ^fifn 
 Caufes of the neglett hitherto offtudying the 
 
 Englijh language. ..{ ^ 
 
 <orn 
 
 ^ | ^ H E time of eftabliftiing a general 
 JL fyftem of education in England, was 
 not till the reformation was firft begun. 
 Previous to that, our fchools and colleges 
 were chiefly for the ufe of thofe deftined 
 to the function of the priefthood, and what 
 little knowlege and learning were in the 
 kingdom, feem to have been pretty much 
 monopolized by that order. The laity 
 were in general fo illiterate, that many 
 even of the nobility and gentry could 
 neither read nor write. The language 
 was then fo rude and barbarous, that few 
 3 books
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 205 
 
 books were written in it which were either 
 fit for entertainment or ufe ; confequently 
 there could be no inducements to the 
 ftudy of it. At the fame time it was fo 
 fubjed: to change, that what was fpoke in 
 one century could not be underftood in 
 another. Infomuch that the hiftory of 
 pcrfons and times mufl have come down 
 to us in a very maimed and imperfect 
 manner, had not the records been pre- 
 ferved in the Latin of the monks ; which 
 however mangled and deformed it might 
 be when compared with it's beautiful ori- 
 ginal, yet had ftill the advantage over the 
 modern tongues, of liability ; and was of 
 courfe fitter for preferving and tranfmitting 
 events to pofterity. It muft be remem- 
 bered that not long previous to this period 
 of time, the arts and fciences had revived 
 in Europe, and the Greek and Roman 
 languages began to be taught in their pu- 
 rity. This was owing to the inundation 
 of Barbarians, and Turks, which had over- 
 run Greece, whofe difperfed inhabitants 
 furnimed all the countries in Europe with 
 mafters. The liberal arts, and the two 
 iea/ned languages, were welcomed in all 
 
 places
 
 206 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 places as illuftrious ftrangers ; they were 
 treated at courts with high marks of di- 
 flinction, and the pope, Francis the 
 rft, Charles the fifth, and Henry the 
 eighth, vied with each other in the en- 
 couragement which they gave them. As 
 thefe languages were the repofitaries of 
 all the knowlege and wifdom of anti- 
 quity, no wonder they were made the 
 chief object of education. It was by the 
 ftudy of thefe alone, that knowlege could 
 then be acquired. There were as yet 
 few or no tranflations into our language 
 of the Greek and Roman authors j and 
 indeed it was fo very defective, that it was 
 not capable of giving any juft or fatisfac- 
 tory idea of them. Befides this, there 
 were at that time many other motives 
 and inducements to the general ftudy of 
 thofe languages, both of neceiiity and 
 ufe, which do not hold now. After the 
 writings of Luther and Calvin had ap- 
 peared, all Europe was embroiled in reli- 
 gious difputes, in which we were neceffa- 
 rily involved by our feceffion from the 
 church of Rome. None of the modern 
 languages were fufficiently refined or fixed 
 
 to
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 207 
 to become of general ufe. As it was necef- 
 fary to the feveral combatants of the diffe- 
 rent nations, that fomeone language under- 
 ftood by all mould be pitched upon, in which 
 they (hould manage their difputes, the La- 
 tin was chofen by common confent, and 
 obtained a general currency. On this ac- 
 count that language was then fpoken and 
 written by all the learned in Europe, with 
 as much fluency and facility as the polite 
 now fpeak or write French. A know- 
 lege of the Greek was alfo neceffary, as 
 the new teftament, which contained the 
 fubjecls of controverfy, and furnifhed 
 them chiefly with materials to fupport it, 
 was written in that language. As the in- 
 terefts and paflions of princes and of par- 
 ties mingled themfelves in thefe contefts, 
 men of the greateft abilities and moft dif- 
 tinguimed talents, were of courfe favoured 
 and encouraged by them to be champions 
 in the caufe which they efpoufed. The 
 roads to the temples of fame and fortune 
 were not pafiable then, without firft going 
 thro' Greek and Latin ; fo that all who 
 had either in view, muft neceflarily pafs 
 thro'thofe, whatever expence of time or 
 
 labour
 
 2o3 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 labour it might coft them. As thefc re- 
 ligious controverfies were the main obje&s 
 of view in the ftate at that time, ib in the 
 mode of education they feem to have been 
 chiefly contidered. After the two lan- 
 guages, logick and metaphyficks were the 
 principal ftudies, to make them able dif- 
 putants, to aflift them in unravelling fal- 
 lacies, or in perplexing and confounding 
 their opponents. The laity being jufl 
 freed from the tyrannical power exercifed 
 over their minds by the clergy, which 
 was chiefly fupported by an opinion of 
 fuperior knowlege and learning in that 
 order, were now refolved not to be be- 
 hind-hand with them in thofe points, and 
 therefore greedily embraced the fame 
 method of education. Thus it happened 
 that all perfons whatever, defigned for 
 profeffions ever fo different, ecclefiaflical, 
 civil, or military, the pulpit, fenate-houfe, 
 bar, phynck, or army, were all trained ex- 
 actly in one and the fame way. To under-* 
 ftand, fpeak, and write Latin well, as the 
 language by which they could acquire 
 moft knowlege, and which would be 
 of the greateft ufe to them in life, was of 
 
 courfe
 
 CHAP.IV. EDUCATION. 209 
 
 courfe the univerfal ftudy j whilft their 
 own, which on account of it's poverty 
 could only ferve them in common offices, 
 was little regarded. This general atten- 
 tion to Greek and Latin, as it wasfounded 
 on reafon and the neceffity of the times, 
 fo was it alfo productive of the beft con- 
 fequences in regard to the Englifh lan- 
 guage 5 for without having that particular 
 point in view, all the learned were daily 
 and imperceptibly improving and enrich- 
 ing their own by words and phrafes bor- 
 rowed from thofe two excellent lan- 
 guages, and habitually made that which 
 was before wild and anomalous, conform 
 to the regularity and order of thofe, as 
 much as it's genius and particular 
 conftru&ion would admit. What a 
 mighty progrefs was made in this refpect 
 during the reign of queen Elizabeth, may 
 be feen by comparing the authors of that 
 time with thofe who preceded them. 
 That this was entirely owing to their fkill 
 in the learned languages, may be fhewn 
 by obferving that there are no traces of the 
 Englifh having been particularly ftudied, 
 or made part of education during her 
 P reign,
 
 2 ro BRITISH 
 
 reign. Nor was there any fociety of men 
 either of publick or private institution, 
 whofe office it might be to examine and 
 fix rules to our language. That wife prin- 
 cefs knew that the time was not yet come 
 for fuch a work. It had not yet arrived 
 at it's maturity - r and to attempt before 
 that, to fix it to a ftandard, might effec- 
 tually flop it's growth. She therefore 
 judicioufly chofe to give all manner of en- 
 couragement to the iludy of the learned 
 languages, by which it was nourifhed and 
 fupported, and daily grew in fize and 
 ftrength. Had her fucceffors taken as 
 much pains to give Stability to our lan- 
 guage, as fhe did to bring it to perfection, 
 it might at this day even vie 'with thofe 
 of antiquity, and far excel any now 
 fpoken in the world. For want of this y 
 it is the opinion of one * whofe authority 
 muft be of great weight, (as no man hath 
 perhaps more clofely fludied the point, 
 none certainly hath wrote more corre&ly) 
 . that our language has fuffered as many 
 corruptions fmce her time, as it has re- 
 
 . 
 * Dr. Swift's letter to the lord hirih treafurer. 
 
 ccived
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 211 
 
 ceived improvement. The pafTage being 
 curious and to the point, I fhall here fet 
 it down. ' The period wherein the 
 
 * Englim tongue received moft improve- 
 ' ment, I take to commence with the be- 
 c ginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, and 
 
 * to conclude with the great rebellion in 
 c forty-two. It is true, there was a very 
 
 * ill tafte both of ftyle and wit, which 
 1 prevailed under king James the firit ; 
 ( but that feems to have been corrected 
 c in the firft years of his fucceflbr ; who, 
 ' among many other qualifications of an 
 
 * excellent prince, was a great patron of 
 
 * learning. From that great rebellion to 
 ' this prefent time, I am apt to doubt 
 ' whether th'e corruptions in our language 
 
 * have not, at leaft, equalled the refine- 
 
 * ments of it, and thefe corruptions 
 c very few of the beft authors in our age 
 
 * have wholly efcaped. During the ufur- 
 ' pation, fuch an infufion of enthufiaftick 
 'jargon prevailed in every writing, as was 
 ' not maken off in many years after. To 
 'this fucceeded that licentioufnefs which 
 ' entered with the reftoration ; and from 
 
 * infefting our religion and morals, fell 
 
 P 2 tO
 
 H B OOK H. 
 
 4 to corrupt our language: which lail 
 4 was not like to be much improved by 
 e 'thofe, who at that time made up the 
 
 * court of king Charles the fecond ; 
 ' either fuch who had followed him in 
 c 'his banifhment, or who had been alto- 
 e gether converfanf in the dialed! of thofe 
 ' fanatick times ; or young men, who had 
 
 * been educated in the fame company; 
 
 * fo that the court, which ufed to be the 
 ' ftandard of propriety, and corredtnefs 
 ' of fpeech, was then, and I think hath 
 c ever fince continued, the worft fchool in 
 
 * England for that accomplishment ; and 
 ' fo will remain, until better care be 
 ' taken in the education of our young 
 ' nobility.' 
 
 It maybe matter of wonder, that whilft 
 the other countries in Europe, the French, 
 Italians, Spaniards, &c. &c. in proportion 
 to their progrefs in learning, after having 
 enriched and illuftrated their feveral lan- 
 guages by the aids and lights borrowed 
 from the Greek and Roman, were em- 
 ployed with the utmoft induflry, to 
 refine, correcl, and afcertain them In- 
 fixed and ftated rules, the Englifh alone left 
 
 theirs
 
 CHAP.IV. EDUCATION. 213 
 
 theirs to the. power of chance and caprice 5, 
 infomuchthatitisbut within a few months 
 that even a dictionary has .been pro- 
 duced here. Whilft in all the others,, 
 many excellent grammars and diction- 
 aries have long fince been publimed, 
 the labours of publick focieties, as well as 
 of private perfons. This is the more 
 aftonifhing, when it is confidered that 
 fuch a work feemed to be of more abfolute 
 neceffity to us, than to any other nation, 
 and that on many accounts. In the firft 
 place, after the feparation from the church 
 of Rome, our own language alone was 
 ufed in all acts . of publick wormip ; 
 whereas in the Roman Catholick coun- 
 tries, all prayers and religious ceremonies 
 were in Latin. From the nature of our 
 conftitution we had more conftant occa- 
 fion for the publick ufe of it in debates, 
 and confequently ftronger inducements to 
 the ftudy of it. Add to this, that there 
 were three different nations, the Scotch, 
 Irifh, and Welch, who made up a con- 
 fiderable part of the Britidi dominions, 
 both in power and extent, who fpoke in 
 tongues different from the Englifh, and 
 P 3 who
 
 214 BRITISH BOOK II, 
 
 Who were far from being firmly united 
 with them in inclinations, and of courfe 
 were purfuing different interefts. To ac- 
 complifh an entire union with thefe peo- 
 ple, was of the utmoft importance to 
 them, to which nothing could have more 
 effectually contributed, than the univer- 
 fality of one common language. And it 
 is obvious enough that this could not be 
 brought about, unlefs the language were 
 eftablifhed upon certain principles, and 
 made capable of being taught by rule. 
 Add to this, that even in England itfelf 
 for want of fuch a method, there were 
 fuch various dialects fpoken, that perfons 
 born and bred in different and diftant 
 fhires, could fcarce any more understand 
 each others fpeech, than they could that 
 of a foreigner, which is notorious even 
 now. It may therefore be worth while 
 to enquire how a point of fuch import- 
 ance, contrary to the practice of the an- 
 tient, and example of modern nations, 
 came to be fo wholly neglected by us even 
 to this day. 
 
 As this work was not begun in the 
 reign of Q^Elizabeth, when die language 
 
 had
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 215 
 
 had made the moft vigorous moots, it was 
 hardly a thing to be wimed in the time 
 of her fucceflbr, as the taint of pedantry 
 had infected everything which regard- 
 ed knowlege, or difcourfe. The vioknt 
 commotions and civil wars, which raged 
 during the greateft part of the reign of 
 Charles the firft, rendered all attempts 
 that way impracticable, tho' otherwife 
 that would have been the moft aufpicious 
 asra for fetting about fuch a tafk, as the 
 prince was a great encourager of the arts 
 and fciences. During the ufurpation, 
 fuch an inundation of cant and jargon had 
 overwhelmed our language, as gave but 
 little profpect of it's rifing again. On 
 the reftoration however, all might have 
 been amended j but from the dilTolute 
 manners and univerfal corruption in the 
 reign of Charles the fecond, there could 
 be no expectation that any ufeful fcheme 
 for the publick benefit mould take place. 
 The fhort period of his fucceffor's govern- 
 ment was too full of troubles and commo- 
 tions, and at the time of the revolution, 
 and during king William's reign, the 
 minds of men were too much taken up in 
 P 4 eftabliftiing
 
 216 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 eftabliming our noble conftitution, and 
 their attention too much engaged by the 
 wars waged for the prefervation of the 
 liberties of Europe, to give heed to any 
 other matters, however important in them- 
 felves. The firft propofal, that we know 
 of, for an attempt of that kind, was made 
 by Dr. Swift, towards the latter end of 
 queen Anne's reign, in a letter to the 
 lord high treafurer. And it is generally 
 thought that the fcheme would certainly 
 have been reduced to practice, had it not 
 been for the fudden death of that 
 princefs, foon after the publication of that 
 piece. Let others enquire into the caufes 
 why it has ever fince lain dormant j it is 
 fufficient to my purpofe to fay, that hither- 
 to no attempt has been made towards the 
 regulation of our language, which like 
 
 our commons is fuffered to lie defolate. 
 fflc 
 
 uncultivated, and wafte, to the great pre- 
 judice, in point of wealth, as well as or- 
 nament, of this fair ifland. 
 
 - 
 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. V. EDUCATION. '217 
 fans .ooiiidiiir 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 *That thofe caufes no longer operate, nor are 
 of any force. 'The great neceffity of ftudy- 
 ing our language JJoe'wn. 
 
 r I ^HE motives which induced our 
 JL anceftors, upon the firfl eftablifh- 
 ment of a general fyftem of education, to 
 lay fuch a flrefs upon the ftudy of Latin 
 and Greek, and to dedicate fuch a vaft 
 portion of time to the acquifition of fkill 
 in thofe languages, when at the fame 
 time their own was totally neglected, are 
 no longer of any force. There is neither 
 the fame neceffity to fpur us now, nor 
 the fame advantages to induce us to fuch 
 a clofe application to thofe, whether we 
 confider the general utility refulting from 
 them to the puhlick, or the private emo- 
 luments to individuals. The learned lan- 
 guages are no longer the fole repofitaries 
 of knowlegej on the contrary, theEnglifh 
 is become an univerfal magazine not only 
 of antient but of all modern wifdom. 
 All the great authors of antiquity, as well 
 ^ as
 
 2i8 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 as of the prefent times, of whatever na- 
 tion, or in whatever language, may now 
 be read in Englifti; tho' not perhaps with 
 equal delight, yet with equal advantage 
 in point of knowlege. So that the laity 
 need no longer be afraid of the clergy in 
 that refpeft, even tho' they were entirely 
 to give up to them the fuperior toil and 
 labour of reading the originals. Add to 
 this, that we have had fince thofe days, 
 many excellent writers of our own, upon 
 fubjects of much more importance to us 
 than any that have been handed down to 
 us in the 'books of antiquity, and which 
 were untouched by them. Not to mention 
 that even in regard to thofe works calculat- 
 ed to give delight, and from which they 
 claim their chief pre-eminence, there 
 have not been wanting in this country, 
 men of perhaps as great reach of fancy, 
 and genius, whofe writings, if they were 
 as much fludied, and whofe beauties 
 (paradoxical as the opinion may feem) if 
 they were as well underftood, as thofe of 
 the admired antients, might perhaps af- 
 ford as much pleafure, and in no refpecl: 
 yield the palm to them. The publick. 
 
 A 
 
 contexts
 
 CHAP. V. EDUCATION. 219 
 contefts in regard to religion, wherein all 
 the able pens of the feveral nations of 
 Europe were engaged, and in which the 
 difputes were carried on in Latin, have 
 long fince ceafed -, and it is more than a 
 century fince we have been embroiled in 
 civil contefts with various feds at home, 
 wherein the controverfy has been entirely 
 managed in Englim. So that however 
 necefTary to promotion, and diftinction, 
 fkill in Latin might formerly have been 
 to a clergyman, of late years knowlege of 
 the Englim language would be much 
 more conducive to thofe points. Befides, 
 the language itfelf has been fo much en- 
 larged and improved fince thofe -days, 
 that it is rendered capable of anfwering 
 every end, whether of profit or pleafure, to 
 us at leaft, better than all the others put 
 together, and confequently is become 
 more worthy to be ftudied. To ftate the 
 account in mort between our forefathers 
 and us, they mewed great wifdom and 
 good fenfe in making the learned lan- 
 guages the chief ftudy in their days, be- 
 caufe, however round about the way, 
 knowlege was then to be acquired in 
 3 none
 
 220 BRITISH .BOOK II. 
 
 none other; and becaufe our own, then 
 poor and uncultivated, could be no other 
 way enriched or refined. Private perfons 
 were in the right to labour at perfection in 
 thofe, becaufe, bcfides the knowlege which 
 they could not otherwife have obtained, 
 they were fure of meeting fuitable rewards 
 in point of reputation and fortune. But 
 the very fame motives which urged them 
 fo powerfully to apply to Latin and Greek, 
 are now more cogent with us to iludy 
 chiefly our own language. Becaufe a great- 
 er quantity of ufeful knowlege can with 
 more eafe and lefs time be acquired in 
 that than in any, I had almoft faid all the 
 others : and becaufe the foil is now fo 
 luxurious that it requires more than ordi- 
 nary cultivation and tillage, in order to 
 produce ufeful and profitable crops, in- 
 itead of being over-run with gawdy flowers, 
 and noxious weeds. And as to indivi- 
 duals, it need fcarce be mentioned that no 
 ikill in other languages can contribute in 
 f.ny degree, either to their fame or profit, 
 4o much as in their own. If thefe points 
 are- true, what caafe can be amgned that 
 \ve ilill proceed in die old method ? Is it 
 
 a blind
 
 CHAP.'V. 'EDUCATION. 221 
 
 a blind' veneration paid to the inftitutions 
 and cuftoms of old? Upon the fame 
 principle we might juft as reafonably meet 
 our enemies in the fame fort of armour as 
 was worn by our countrymen before the 
 invention of guns. But cuftoms, of which 
 the immediate abfurdity or detriment are 
 at once feen and felt, upon change of cir- 
 cumftances, are eafily and neceffarily al- 
 tered ; whereas thofe, the ill confe- 
 quences of which lie more remote, and 
 the bad effects whereof are not fenfibly per- 
 ceived 'till after a number of years have roll- 
 ed away, are often fufFered to remain, 'till 
 time gives them fail root, and age fanctifies 
 them. Their duration becomes an argument 
 of their goodnefs, and people inftead of 
 weighing their intrinfick merit in the fcale 
 of reafon, are apt at once to form a con- 
 clufion that they could not have laded fo 
 long had they not been right. If it were 
 . not for this fort of prepofTeffion, how is it 
 pofiible to account for the abfurd notions 
 of fo many parents, that Greek and Latin 
 . are ftill the high roads to fortune, becaufe 
 they were fo two centuries ago, notwith- 
 j Handing the many flagrant inftances to 
 
 the
 
 222 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 the contrary before their eyes r How many 
 excellent fcholars, now pining in want, 
 make no other ufe of their Latin but 
 to lament in Virgilian ftrains, that ever 
 they were acquainted with Virgil, or knew 
 any other but their mother tongue ? 
 With what forrow do they look back upoa 
 their paft time irretrievably mifpent, tho' 
 not thro' their own fault, and vvifh it had 
 been employed in learning foine trade 
 by which they might be fure of acquir- 
 ing a comfortable fubfiftence ? Is not the 
 ingenious and learned tranflator of Mil- 
 ton's paradife loft, a work which may do 
 the higheft honour to this country, as it 
 will make that nobleft of our productions 
 univerfally known thro' Europe, and may 
 become one of the ftrongeft inducements 
 to foreigners to ftudy our language, in 
 order to read fo excellent a piece in the 
 original ; is not this man, I fay, to the dif- 
 grace of the age, now ftarving (and 
 probably doomed to do fo for the reft 
 of his life) upon a poor curacy in a remote 
 part of the country ? And mall many fa- 
 thers -expect that their fons will be -able 
 to outdo him in learning, or have nobler 
 
 oppor-
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 223 
 
 opportunities of difplaying it ? But indeed 
 in many cafes this may not be the effect 
 of choice, or prejudice, but of neceffity. 
 Numbers there are who fee the abfurdity 
 of this conduct, but can find no remedy, 
 They have not the means of giving fclieir 
 fons fuch an education as they could 
 wim, and therefore are obliged to follow 
 the reigning mode. Nor can it be doubt- 
 ed, tha-t if the means of acquiring ikill in 
 the Englifh were as eafy and common, if 
 it could be taught by as certain rules, and 
 the preceptors were as knowing in that as 
 in the learned languages, infinitely a 
 greater number would apply themfelves 
 to a critical ftudy of that, both from 
 views of intereil and inclination, than to 
 the others. 
 
 That I may not be mifunderftood here, 
 I mall fet down part of a paiTage, tho' 
 quoted before, from Mr. Locke, a-s at once 
 fully expreffive of, and at the fame time 
 giving a fanction to my own fentiments. 
 
 ' I am not here fpeaking againft Greek 
 
 * and Latin j I think they ought to be 
 ' ftudied, and the Latin, at leaft, under- 
 
 * flood well by every gentleman. But 
 
 whatever
 
 224 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 c whatever foreign languages a young man 
 c meddles with (and the more he knows 
 ' the better) that which he fhould critically 
 
 * fludy, and labour to get a facility, clear - 
 
 * nefs, and elegancy to exprefs himfelf in, 
 c fhould be his own, and to this purpofe 
 he fhould daily be exercifed in it.' 
 
 Far be it from me indeed to depreciate 
 theftudy of thofe languages, without which 
 I know it is impoffible we can ever un- 
 derftand our own with accuracy. But 
 the great fault complained of is, that this 
 important end feems to be entirely for- 
 gotten, thro* a fpirit of pedantry in the 
 teachers ; by whom instructions in Greek 
 and Latin are given as if they were de- 
 fireable only for their own fakes. Where- 
 as, were their ufes conftantly pointed out 
 to them towards illuftrating their own 
 language, young gentlemen would not 
 only go thro' thofe laborious fludies with 
 more immediate delight to themfelves, 
 but would ever after in life endeavour to 
 keep up and improve what fkill they had 
 acquired in thofe, as greatly contributing 
 to fo ufeful a purpofe. By a contrary prac- 
 tice, it is well known, that very few, 
 
 thro 1
 
 CHAP. V. E D U C AT Ifl N. 2*5 
 
 tnro* a difguft conceived of what appears 
 to them an unprofitable toil, ever arrive 
 at fufficient perfection in thofe languages 
 to read the antient authors with eafe and 
 pleafure in the original, and therefore 
 when their necefTary courfe is over, lay 
 them totally afide, and in a few years en- 
 tirely forget what little they had acquired. 
 If they continue to read, it is only in books 
 written in Englifh, v/ith the principles of 
 which being totally unacquainted, they 
 form their notions offtyle upon fuch 
 authors as happen to pleafe them moft. 
 In the choice of which,the matter whereof 
 they treat, not the manner in which it is 
 handled, is chiefly coniidered, * { Too 
 
 * many of this fort pafs upon vulgar readers 
 c for great authors and men of profound 
 c thought, not on account of any fuperio- 
 1 rity either in fenfe or ftyle, both which 
 f they poflefs in a very moderate degree, 
 < nor of any difcoveries they have made in 
 
 * arts and fciences, which they feem to 
 ' be little acquainted with : but purely 
 
 * becaufe they flatter the paffions of cor- 
 
 * Bifhop of Cloyne. 
 
 ' rupt
 
 226 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 c nipt men, who are pleafed to have the 
 ' clamours of confcience filenced, and 
 ' thofe great points of the chriftian reli- 
 * gion made fufpected, which with-held 
 ' them from many views of pleafure and 
 ' intereft, or made them uneafy in the 
 e commilHon of them.' The fame argu- 
 ment will hold in regard to writings upon 
 any other fubje&s which flatter the paf- 
 fions, pleafe the humours, or fall in 
 with the party-notions of men j and 
 this alone is fufficient to account for 
 the general bad tafte which is allowed to 
 prevail, as well as the quantity of falfe 
 knowlege, far worfe than none ; for that 
 amazing number of wretched pamphlets 
 written to the times as the phrafe is> 
 which are daily published, and daily find 
 a fufficient number of as wretched readers; 
 in mort, for thofe heaps of tram which 
 are conftantly expofed to fale in the win- 
 dows of bookfellers/ like unripe fruit 
 greedily devoured by green-ficknefs appe- 
 tites, and which fill the mind with crudi- 
 ties as pernicious to the understanding, as 
 thofe of the other are to the body. Of 
 
 the
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 227 
 
 the great increafe of this evil Dn Swift 
 complained many years ago in a letter to 
 the author of the Tatler. -f- * I can not 
 
 * but obferve to you, that until of late 
 
 * years a Grub-flreet book was always 
 
 * bound in fheep-fkin, with fuitable print 
 4 and paper ; the price never above a mil- 
 Ming; and taken off wholly by common 
 
 * tradefmen, or country pedlars. But now 
 ' they appear in all iizes and fhapes, and 
 
 * in all places : they are handed about from 
 ' lapfuls in every coffee-houfe to perfons of 
 
 * quality ; are fhewn in Weftminfter-hall, 
 c and the court of Requefls. You may fee 
 ' them gilt, and in royal paper, of five 
 
 * or fix hundred pages, and rated accord- 
 
 * ingly. I would engage to furni(h you 
 1 with a catalogue of Englifh books, pub- 
 
 * limed within the compafs of feven years 
 ' paft, which at the firft hand would cofl 
 
 * you an hundred pounds, wherein you 
 ' mall not be able to find ten lines 
 ' together of common grammar or com- 
 ' mon fenfe.' It muft be allowed, that if 
 Englifh wereftudied and commonly well 
 
 f No. 230. 
 
 under-
 
 28 BRiriSH BOOK!!. 
 
 understood, and that confequently a ge- 
 neral good tafte prevailed amongft readers, 
 none ofthefe miferable productions could 
 meet with a fufficient fale, and they would 
 therefore be flifled in their birth. If a 
 correct ftyle mould once become a necef- 
 fary requisite to the fuccefs of any book 
 which may be offered to the publick, 
 what an army of able-bodied writers muft 
 then be obliged to lay down the pen, 
 who inftead of corrupting the hearts and 
 poifoning the underflandings of their fel- 
 low Subjects, would become ufeful mem- 
 bers of fociety by carrying mufkets againft 
 the enemies of their country. 
 
 If it be granted that at this day English 
 is the language moft univerfally read by 
 Englishmen j that even by thofe who 
 have made the greateft progrefs in Latin and 
 Greek, the number of books read in their 
 own is out of all proportion greater than 
 in the learned languages j that the princi- 
 pal view in reading thofe, or other authors 
 in foreign tongues, is amufement, whilft 
 our own are chiefly Sludied for ufeful pur- 
 pofes ; it muft be allowed, that nothing 
 can be a greater national concern than the 
 
 care
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 229 
 care of our language. There is fuch an 
 intimate connexion between ideas and 
 words, language and knowlege, that 
 whatever deficiency, or fault, there may 
 be in the one, neceflarily affects the other. 
 Clearnefs, or confufion of ideas, arife from 
 obfcurity or precifion in their marks, arid 
 the quantity, as well certainty of know- 
 lege, depends upon the eafe and exactnefs 
 with which a language is read or under- 
 ftood. If the glafs be not right, the 
 images reflected by it will not be exact. 
 If the channel be muddy, the ftream 
 which flows thro' it can not be clear ; if 
 there lie heaps of rubbifh in it, the water 
 can not pafs fwiftly, or fmoothly. Should 
 it therefore be the cafe of any country, 
 that an infinite number of books were 
 read there, and very little knowlege ob- 
 tained j that there mould be much fpeak- 
 ing, and little understanding ; that dif- 
 putes upon all manner of topicks mould 
 be carried on both in converfation, and 
 writing, without ever coming to an end ; 
 it would not follow that the intellectual 
 faculties of fuch a people were inferior to 
 others, as the whole might eafily be folved 
 
 by
 
 230 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 by confidering the ftate of their language. 
 So far as that is obfcure or ill underftood, 
 fo far muft the knowlege acquired in it 
 be confufed or erroneous. This is at 
 once feen by any perfon who reads in a 
 foreign language, as he can not pretend 
 to underftand any author in that, without 
 firft knowing the precife meaning of his 
 words and phrafes 3 to obtain which, he 
 is obliged to clofe application and ftudy ; 
 wherein he is afTilted by certain and flated 
 rules. But it has been before obferved, 
 that in a mother tongue, where we have 
 no rules to guide us, whofe ufe and know- 
 lege are obtained from the people we 
 ufually converfe with, or the books we 
 ufually read, we are much more liable to 
 fall into errors than in any other, and con- 
 fequently in that have much more occa- 
 lion for ftudy and application. When it 
 is confidered, that a fingle term in a pro- 
 pofition not understood exactly in the fame 
 manner, tho' perhaps very nearly, by two 
 different perfons, may furniih out matter 
 of difpute to run thro' many volumes, and 
 to laft for ages -, and when it is conlidercd, 
 what little care is taken to come at an ac~ 
 3 curate
 
 EDUCATION. 231 
 -curate knowlege of a language, the mofl co- 
 pious, and on many other accounts the moft 
 difficult to be well underftood of any in 
 the known world, there will be no occa- 
 fion to wonder that we fhould be the moil 
 unfettled in our notions, and the moft di- 
 vided in our opinions of any people, fmcc 
 the time of the reparation of philofophy 
 from the ftudy of rhetorick, amongA 
 the Greeks. It is well known, that the 
 <Ieftruclion of all ufeful knowlege foon 
 followed that feparation amongft them, 
 and it is to be feared, that the reftoration 
 of it amons;ft us can be effected no other 
 
 o 
 
 way than by their reunion- 
 Seneca attributes the corruptions which 
 had crept into the flyle and language of 
 the Romans in his days, to a decay of 
 knowlege. May not the converfe propo- 
 fition be true in regard to us, that our 
 want of knowlege is chiefly owing to the 
 neglecl: of ftudying eur language ? and 
 the corruptions of our underflandi-ng to 
 thofe of our flyle ? Are not our minds 
 chiefly ftored with ideas by words, and 
 muft not clearnefs or obfcurity in the one, 
 necefTarily produce the fame in the other ? 
 
 The
 
 232 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 The only remedy that could be effectual 
 in this cafe, he faid, was to cure the mind*. 
 When that was found and ftrong, the dif- 
 courfe would confequently be fo too. 
 But muft not the mind be cured, and rea- 
 fon ftrengthened by the medium of lan- 
 guage ? It is from the mind, fays he, that 
 all our fentiments and words proceed -f-. 
 But mufl not the fentiments come out 
 cloathed in words according to the con- 
 ception had of them when admitted ? 
 However juft his reafoning may be in re- 
 gard to the Romans, yet it will not hold 
 in regard to us, unlefs our language were 
 in an equal ftate of ..perfection, and efta- 
 blifhed upon as folid principles, as theirs. 
 There is a great difference between per- 
 fons who thro' wantonnefs, or caprice, 
 wander from the way, yet have always 
 the right road open to them whenever 
 they recover from their infatuation, and 
 thofe who may find themfelves in an error, 
 and wifli to correct it> but have no clue to 
 guide them to what is right. 
 
 * Oratio nulli molefta eft, niii animus labat, ideo ille 
 curetur. Illo lano ac valente, orat ; o quoque robufta, 
 Tortis, virilis eft. 
 
 -f Ab illo fcr,fus- ; ab illo verba exeunt. 
 
 It
 
 CHAP. V. E D U C A T I O N. 233 
 
 It may be argued from the great per- 
 fpicuity vifible in the reafonings of feveral 
 of our eminent writers, wherein they do 
 not at all yield to the antients, that the 
 Englifh language is capable of conveying 
 knowlege to the mind, and difplaying it 
 afterwards, in as clear a manner as that of . 
 the Greeks or Romans. But this argu- 
 ment properly traced, may perhaps lead 
 to a contrary conclufion. Some of our 
 moft diftinguifhed writers appeared in an 
 age when all knowlege was acquired in 
 the learned languages j fuch as Bacon, 
 Raleigh, Hooker, and many more. In 
 the more advanced ftate of the Englim, it 
 is apparent to all who read his works, 
 from what ftores Milton heaped together 
 that immenfe treafure of ideas. In fuch 
 of their writings as are in Englim, they 
 feem to labour and ftruggle with the lan- 
 guage to give birth to their thoughts, in 
 the fame maturity and perfection with 
 which they were conceived, and are there- 
 fore conftantly obliged to have recourfe to 
 expreflions borrowed from the Latin : 
 whilft the Juno Lucina of the antients 
 feemed always at hand when their 
 
 thoughts
 
 234 BRITISH BooKlI. 
 thoughts were delivered in the Roman 
 language. Jt is well known, that New- 
 ton and Locke ftudied, thought, and writ 
 chiefly in Latin, as moft capable of that 
 precifion fo necelTary to their fubjects. 
 Dryden, Addifon, Berkley, Swift, and 
 fuch of our writers as are deemed moft 
 claffical, had their minds constantly im- 
 pregnated with ideas from the antient 
 languages. Nor can there perhaps be a 
 fmgle inftance produced of any man who 
 never read or thought but in Englifh, that 
 deferves the name of an author. If 
 Shakefpear be allowed to be an exception 
 (which yet remains to be proved, as there 
 is good reafon to believe that he at leaft 
 underftood Latin well) there is no forming 
 a rule from a fingle inftance of fo prodigi- 
 ous a birth, nor fixing a ftandard of mea- 
 furement to others from one mind of fo 
 gigantic a ftature. 
 
 The difficulty of writing with clearnefs 
 and accuracy in our language, can appear 
 from nothing more ftrongly than this, 
 that it feems generally allowed by thofe of 
 the greateft difcernment, and who have 
 moft confidered the point, that out of the 
 
 - . in-finite
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 235 
 infinite number who have publimed their 
 works, we have but very few who have 
 written pure and correct Englifh. And 
 they who were well acquainted with Dr. 
 Swift, muft have often heard him fay, 
 that the exaftnefs of his ftyle was the 
 chief ftudy and labour of his life. How 
 muft fuch difficulty and conftant attention 
 check the progrefs of thofe poffefled of the 
 moft elevated genius, and what noble pro- 
 ductions may they not have been the occa- 
 fion of lofing to the world ? J The artift 
 would make but a flow progrefs, were he 
 obliged himfelf to provide and prepare all 
 his materials ; but when they are ready to 
 his hand, he can difpatch a great deal in 
 a little time, and with cafe. Nor is it to 
 be doubted, that if they had been early 
 trained and inftru&ed in their own lan- 
 guage, fo as to acquire an habit of writing 
 it with corredtnefs and facility, when they 
 firft thought of publishing, but that even 
 our moft eminent authors would have left 
 behind them works far fuperior both in 
 
 t The lefs reftraint a poet's imagination fuffers from 
 . the mechanical part of his work* the more his fancy is 
 capable of taking it's flight. The lefs it is confined, the 
 niwre liberty it has for invention, 
 
 Dw Bois, Crit. Ref. vol. i. c. 35. 
 
 quantity
 
 236 B R I r I S H BOOK II. 
 quantity and quality to what they are at 
 prefent. So that we may fafely fay with 
 Dr. Swift, in his letter to the lord high 
 treafurer, c That nothing would be of 
 
 * greater ufe towards the improvement of 
 
 * knowlege and politenefs, than fome ef- 
 
 * fectual method for correcting, enlarging, 
 c and afcertaining our language/ 
 
 There is no one will hefitate to allow, 
 that nothing could be more defirable, no- 
 thing could more effectually contribute to 
 the benefit and glory of this country, than 
 if it were poflible to bring the Englifh lan- 
 guage to as great a degree of perfection, 
 liability, and general ufe, as thofe of Greece 
 and Rome. In order to fee whether this be 
 practicable or not, I mall hereafter confider 
 it with relation to the Roman language 
 only, as well to avoid fruitlefs repetitions 
 (fince all arguments conclufive with refpect 
 to the one, will be equally fo in regard to 
 the other) as becaufe we have a more di- 
 ftinct knowlege of the rife and progrefs 
 of the Roman, than of the Greek, as well 
 as the means by which it was brought to 
 it's maturity. Firft then, as to it's per- 
 fection : I mall endeavour to mew that the 
 means to arrive at it are equally in our 
 
 power,
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 237 
 
 power, that bur inducements are ftronger, 
 and that we might in all probability com- 
 pafs the end in a fhorter fpace of time, 
 and with lefs labour than they did. Second- 
 ly, as to {lability : That if our language 
 were once brought to a ftandard, we have 
 more powerful and certain means to fix 
 and preferve it in it's ftate of perfection 
 than they had. Thirdly, as to general ufe: 
 That we have it more in our power than 
 they had to propagate our language a and 
 make it univerfal. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 That the means to arrive at perfection in 
 our language are equally in our power, 
 that our inducements to it are ftronger^ 
 and that we might in all probability com- 
 pafs our end in a foorter fpace of time, 
 and with lefs labour , than the Romans did. 
 
 IT has been already mewn, that the 
 means by which the Roman language 
 was improved, and arrived at it's ftate of 
 perfection, were the iludy and practice of 
 rhetorick, and oratory. An attention to 
 
 thofe
 
 238 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 thofe neceflarily induced an attention to 
 language. The power of words, whether 
 in regard to fenfe or found, became a 
 point of efTential consideration to thofe 
 who were to fpeak in publick. To affifl 
 them in their progrefs, the Romans had 
 the benefit of the precepts and example 
 of the Greeks. But in this refpeft we 
 have rather the advantage, fmce we have 
 theirs alfo added to thofe of Greece. It 
 may be prefumed that from the writings 
 .of Ariftotle, Plutarch, Longinus, Cicero, 
 and Quintilian, a better treatife of rheto- 
 rick might be compiled now, than any 
 which was in ufe amongft the Romans, 
 at leaft previous to the time that their lan- 
 guage had arrived at perfection. It is true, 
 that the Greek rhetoricians did not a little 
 contribute to the progrefs of their pupils, 
 by joining example to precept, in an art 
 which above all others requires to be 
 learned immediately from the mouth of a 
 mafter. But if the fame encouragement 
 were now given, it is not to be doubted 
 but that many matters would foon arife, 
 equally well qualified with them both as 
 inftruftors, and models for imitation. 
 
 That
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 239 
 
 That the inducements to the ftudy of 
 oratory, and confequently of language, are 
 more powerful with us than with the Ro- 
 mans, may be eafily feen, by considering 
 that there is not a fingle point in which it 
 was ufeful or neceflary to them, wherein 
 it is not equally fo to us. But there is one 
 article, wherein it's utility is beyond all 
 degrees of comparifon greater and more 
 extenfive than in all the reft, which is pe- 
 culiar to us, I mean the article of reli- 
 gion. 
 
 That we might in all probability bring 
 our language to a flate of perfection in a 
 much fhorter fpace of time, and with lefs 
 labour and difficulty, than the Romans did 
 theirs, may be judged by a comparative 
 view of the ftate of theirs, at the period 
 when the introduction of the fludy of 
 eloquence firft engaged them in that tafk, 
 with ours as it ftands at prefent. It muft 
 be obferved, that at that juncture the Ro- 
 man language was far from having arrived 
 at a ftate of maturity ; it was weak, and 
 poor, and was gradually flrengthened and 
 enriched by what it borrowed by lit- 
 tle and little from the Grecian ftores. 
 
 Whereas
 
 240 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 Whereas ours has long fince arrived at it's 
 full fize, and is copious even to exuberance. 
 They were obliged to wait the flow growth 
 of the tree ; but ours has long fince borne 
 fruit, and is likely to become barren only 
 thro' the luxuriance of the branches. It 
 is apparent enough how much lefs time it 
 requires to prune away what is fuper- 
 fluous, than to wait the gradual increafe 
 of what is ufeful. Befides, they had then 
 no books written in Latin that could be 
 of any great affiftance to them. If the 
 judgement of Horace is to be relied on, 
 even the beft authors of thofe times wrote 
 in a very coarfe inelegant flyle. On which 
 account fcarce any of them have been 
 handed down to us, except fome of the 
 works of Plautus. And we know in 
 what estimation * his writings, as well 
 as thofe of his cotemporaries, were held 
 in the Auguftan age. Ennius, Pacu- 
 vius, &c. are known to us only by name. 
 Whereas we have in our language at 
 prefent, feveral works which may at once 
 
 * At noftri proavi Plautinos k numeros & 
 
 Laudavere fales, nimium patienter utruraque, 
 Ne dicam ftultc, mirati. HOKAT. 
 
 ferve
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 241 
 fcrve as rules to guide us in our enquiries, 
 and ftandards to fix our knowlege when 
 attained. The learned and ingenious au- 
 thor of our Englim dictionary has deli- 
 vered it as his opinion, that -f- ' From the 
 c authors which role in the time of Eliza- 
 ' beth, a fpeech might be formed adequate 
 ' to all the purpofes of ufe and elegance. 
 ' If the language of theology were ex- 
 ' tracked from Hooker and the tranflation 
 
 * of the Bible ; the terms of natural know- 
 ' lege from Bacon $ the phrafes of policy, 
 
 * war, and navigation, from Raleigh ; the 
 ' dialect of poetry and fiction from Spenfer 
 ' and Sidney ; and the diction of common 
 
 * life from Shakefpear ; few ideas would 
 ' be loft to mankind, for want of Englifh 
 *' words, in which they might be ex- 
 ' prefled.' To this we may add, that as 
 models of %le, Milton in the poetick, 
 and Shakefpear in the dramatick, Swift, 
 Addifon, Drydcn, and Sir William Tem- 
 ple (in Tome of his works) in profe, may 
 be confidered as truly claffical, as the Vir- 
 gil, Caefar, Tully and Salluft of the Ro- 
 
 f Preface to Johnfon's didlionary. 
 
 R mans j
 
 24* BRITISH BOOK II. 
 mans ; nor is there any reafon that they 
 mould not be handed down as fuch equal- 
 ly to the end of time, unlefs by abandon- 
 ing our language entirely to the fantafti- 
 cal caprices of novelty, it mould come 
 to be fo changed and metamorphofed, as 
 that they (hall be as little underftood, and 
 read with as little pkafure, two or three 
 centuries hence, as the preceding authors 
 of that date are now by us. At which time 
 perhaps fome fcribbler of the day may 
 be employed to modernize them ; by 
 paffing thro' whofe nltring ftone,they may 
 indeed be made more clear, but muft en- 
 tirely lofe their fpirit. And who knows 
 but that if a total ignorance of the force 
 and harmony of numbers mould be fuf- 
 fered to continue, and the vile Gothick 
 tafte for rhime fhould increafe, but that 
 fome future verfifier mail be rewarded, and 
 obtain univerfal praife, for chiming the di- 
 vine numbers of Paradife loft, and fitting 
 them to the vitiated ears of the age. Nor 
 will this feem an improbable conjecture; 
 when we confider with what pleafure, at 
 this day, the fiery Pegafus of Homer is 
 beheld in trammels, ambling along in % 
 
 fhufHing
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 243 
 muffling pace, to the jingle of his filver 
 bells. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 That if our language were once brought to 
 a Jiandard) we have more powerful and 
 certain means to fix and preferve it in 
 it's ftate of perfection than they had. 
 
 THE inability of language may bo 
 confidered in regard to two points, 
 pronunciation, and meaning. To the firft 
 it is neceffary that the fame words {hoiild 
 always be founded in the fame manner j 
 to the laft, that they mould be always un- 
 derftood in the fame fenfe. The ufe of 
 fpeech is chiefly inftrumental to the for- 
 mer, of books to the latter. The more 
 univerfally therefore a language is well 
 and uniformly fpoken by any people, the 
 more likely it is to acquire permanence 
 as to pronunciation : the greater num- 
 ber of correft authors there are in it, who 
 agree in the ufe of words, and the more 
 generally they are read, the greater prof- 
 pect is there of giving it lability as to 
 R 2 meaning.
 
 244 BRITISH BOOK If. 
 meaning. To confider thefe two points 
 feparately. Firft, as to found. To make 
 a language univerfally and uniformly 
 well fpoken by any people, it is necefTary 
 that the pronunciation mould be formed 
 upon known invariable rules, and that the 
 euftomary fpeech fhould be conformable 
 to thofe rules. For as the bulk of the 
 people can not be fuppofed to be ac- 
 quainted with thofe, cuftom muft in that 
 cafe, as well as in moft others, fupply in 
 them the want of knowlege. Both thefe 
 points were admirably provided for a- 
 mongft the Romans. They did not leave 
 the found of their language to chance or 
 caprice, it was eftablifhed upon rational 
 and certain rules, to which all their pub- 
 lick fpeakers conformed. This unifor- 
 mity of pronunciation in their orators ne- 
 ceflarily diffufed a general good tafte thro' 
 their hearers, which fupplied the place 
 of rules, and at the fame time furnimed 
 them with a fure criterion, by which they 
 might difcover any impropriety in the 
 found of words. For being accuftomed to 
 hear their words always founded in the 
 fame manner, they would be immediately 
 
 fenfibl*
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 245 
 
 fenfible of the leaft alteration, and the 
 being new was a fufficient mark to them 
 of the pronunciation's being vitious. It 
 is impoffible to conceive a more imrnove- 
 able ftandard to language, confidered 
 in regard to found only, or a ftronger 
 bulwark againft innovations, than this was. 
 For when the laws of pronunciation were 
 once eftablimed by the orators, upon cer- 
 tain and rational principles, it was no lon- 
 ger in their power to break thro* them : 
 on the contrary, they were obliged to 
 a more ftrict and exact obfervation of the 
 rules than any others, and from thenceforth 
 were compelled to follow cuftom, not 
 choice*. For what publick fpeaker in 
 his fenfes would venture thro' an affec- 
 tation of novelty, to expofe himfelf to the 
 cenfure or ridicule of the meaneft of his 
 hearers ? Thus the body of the people 
 become the guardians of their language, 
 as well as their liberties, and it is ob- 
 fervable that they both fell together. Nor 
 is this at all wonderful, or without it's 
 
 * In dicendo autem vitium vel maximum eft a vulgari 
 genere orationis, atque a confustudine communis fenfus 
 abhorrcre. Cic. de Orat. 1. i. 
 
 R 7 founda-
 
 SH B< 
 
 246 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 ~ 
 
 foundation in reafon. For tho' the mul- 
 titude have not understanding to form po- 
 litical fyftems, or fix rules to languages, 
 nay tho' they are incapable of knowing or 
 comprehending their fitnefs after they are 
 eftablimed, yet they will be always found 
 their true and natural fupports, and it is 
 by them alone that either the one or the 
 other can be preferved, or deftroyed. 
 However ingenuity and defign may be 
 the property of the few, labour and exe- 
 cution depend upon the many. Reafon 
 and law may be the province of one, 
 but ftrength and cuftom belong to the 
 other. 
 
 It was to the frequent opportunities they 
 had of hearing their publick fpeakers, that 
 the Romans were indebted for their gene- 
 ral exaclnefs of pronunciation j from which 
 alfo refulted it's fixed ftate. Now if we 
 compare our opportunities with theirs, it 
 will at once appear, that in this refpect 
 - the advantage lies greatly on our fide. For 
 befides thoie of the fenate-houfe, bar, 
 &c. which we have in common with 
 them, our churches furniih one of more 
 frequent, regular, and general ufe, than 
 3 all
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION, 247 
 
 all the others. Thefe are daily open tc 
 all ranks and orders, and it is part of the 
 duty of every perfon in the nation to at- 
 tend divine fervice at lead one day in the 
 week. If therefore the pronunciation ef 
 our language were fixed by certain rules, 
 and were uniformly and invariably obferv- 
 d by all the clergy, if they had alfo an 
 equal power with the orators of old 
 of captivating attention, and charming 
 the ear, is it to be doubted but that a 
 general good tafte, and exaftnefs of 
 fpeech, would be diffufed thro' the whole 
 people, proportionably fuperior to the 
 Romans, as our advantages and oppor- 
 tunities would be greater and more fre- 
 quent ? This muft be allowed, u-nlefs the 
 people of this country are inferior to them 
 "both in fenfitive and intellectual faculties ; 
 a point which will hardly be granted. 
 
 Now to confider language with refpedfc 
 to it's meaning. It will not require much 
 pains to prove, that we have it in our 
 power to eftablim that as certainly, and 
 more univerfally than the Romans had. 
 Here it is to be obferved, that the intellec- 
 tual faculty is chiefly concerned, whereas 
 R 4 pronun-
 
 248 B.R IT IS H BOOK .11. 
 
 pronunciation is obtained only thro' the 
 fenfe of hearing. By the invention of 
 writing the meaning of wortls can be con- 
 "veyed to the mind as perfectly by the eye, 
 as thro' the ear. And that method which 
 -gives the greateit room anchmoft time for 
 the understanding to exert -.itfelf, will bid 
 the faireft for procuring the greateft accu- 
 racy in the knowlege ,of words. There 
 can be no doubt therefore that this is to 
 be acquired more perfectly, and with 
 more certainty, by ftudy, and books, 
 than by converfation, and publick ha- 
 rangues j for this plain reafon, that in 
 the one cafe a man commands his own 
 time, and can appropriate as much of it as 
 he thinks proper, to weigh the force of every 
 word } in the other, his underftanding 
 is obliged to keep pace with the fpeaker. 
 In this refpect, the invention of printing 
 .has. given us an amazing advantage over 
 the antients. As their books were all tran- 
 
 JI J* i Li 1 1 .. -^-"l * v ** f 
 
 -.{bribed, their number of copies could not 
 
 be fo eafily multiplied, nor confcquently 
 
 :fall into fo many hands. And the expence 
 
 of purcharing thofe written copies was, fo 
 
 -.at, that moft perfons, except thqfe of 
 
 fortune,
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 249 
 fortune, were in a manner precluded from 
 the ufe of them. Accordingly we find 
 that the people in general were wholly 
 illiterate. Whereas amongft us, by means 
 of the prefs, and the cheapnefs of books, 
 there are hardly any fo low who may not 
 acquire knowlege by the eye, as well as 
 by the ear. Hence it is manifeft that {kill 
 in our own language might eaiily become 
 more univerfal now, than it could in their 
 days. And that it might in a much fhort- 
 er fpace of time, with more eafe, and 
 equal certainty, be reduced to rules, and 
 fixed to a ftandard, has been already 
 mewn. 
 
 It is true that the two great articles, the 
 pulpit, and the prefs, which give us fuch 
 a vaft fuperiority over the antients, may 
 produce effects diredlly oppofite to what 
 we have been fpeaking of. The pulpit, 
 which as it is the moft general, ought to 
 be the moft fixed ftandard of pronuncia- 
 tion, may be made the chief fource of 
 diverfity and corruption in point of found. 
 And the prefs, which might be the grand 
 conduit of knowlege and clearnefs, may 
 become the main channel of obfcurity and 
 
 confufion
 
 .25 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 confufton as to meaning. If the clergy, 
 being entirely deftitute of rule, mould 
 each of them find himfelf obliged to make 
 ufe of that mode of pronunciation which 
 he has accidentally acquired, or which he 
 prefers from fancy or caprice, we may 
 hear Englifh fpoken in the churches in as 
 many various dialects as there are mires in 
 this ifland ; and there may be as many An- 
 gularities, in particular words as there are 
 individuals of that order. Nor can their 
 example fail to have a ftrong influence 
 upon the generality of their hearers. If 
 the prefs hould prove to be an eafy pair- 
 port to authors who do not underftand the 
 language they write in, but who from an 
 art of flattering the paffions, and humour- 
 ing the vitious and depraved tafte of the 
 age, obtain great vogue and are generally 
 read, it will follow that the mind of the 
 reader will necelTarily be contaminated by 
 any taints in the flyle of the admired 
 writer j and that obfcurity, and want of 
 precifion in the words of the one, will pro- 
 duce confufion and irregularity in the 
 ideas of the other. 
 
 Indeed
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 251 
 
 Indeed thofe two great inftruments, as 
 they are in a perpetual ftate of activity, 
 muft be continually doing good or harm 
 to the ftate of knowlege. As their 
 power extends itfelf over the whole realm, 
 infomuch that there is net an individual 
 who is not in fome meafure influenced by 
 it, the good or harm muft be univerfal. 
 If their movements were regulated by jufl 
 and fixed rules, directed to proper ends, 
 their operations would be uniform, and 
 the bcft effects would follow. If they 
 are left to the guidance of blind chance, 
 nothing but confufion and diforder can 
 enfue. 
 
 The Romans have afforded us a glaring 
 example of this truth. For many ages 
 was their language in a ftate of dif- 
 order and perpetual change, like ours : 
 but when once they applied themfelves 
 to the ftudy of it, and reduced it to rule, 
 it was brought by means of it's regularity 
 into that fixed ftate in which we now fee 
 it, and by means of which it was that we 
 do now fee it. If we do not apply to the 
 the fame method, there can be nothing 
 more evident than that ours muft go on 
 
 perpc-
 
 252 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 perpetually fluctuating, and there is the 
 higheft degree of probability to fuppofe 
 that the changes made in it will be conti- 
 nually for the worfe. There would be 
 no great difficulty in proving, that the 
 ftrudture of our language is at this day in 
 a worfe condition in regard to found, than 
 it was even in the time of Chaucer. And 
 all who have wrote upon the point are 
 agreed, that in every other refpedt it has 
 been declining fince the reign of Charles 
 the firft. Amongft many others, the 
 teftimony of Mr. Johnfon mufl be of al- 
 lowed authority on this occafion. * c So 
 * far have I been from any care to grace 
 1 my pages with modern decorations, that 
 e I have ftudioufly endeavoured to collect 
 ' examples and authorities from the 
 e writers before the reftoration, whofe 
 c works I regard as the wells of Englim 
 1 undefiled, as the pure fources of genu- 
 1 ine diclion. Our language, for almoft a 
 ' century, has, by the concurrence of 
 1 many caufes, been gradually departing 
 1 from it's original Teutonick character, 
 ' and deviating towards a Gallick ftrucT:ure 
 
 Pref. to Johnf. dift. 
 
 'and
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 253 
 
 f and phrafeology, from which it ought 
 ' to be our endeavour to recall it, by 
 ' making our antient volumes the ground- 
 
 * work of ftyle, admitting among the ad- 
 
 * dition of later times, only fuch as may 
 
 * fupply real deficiencies, fuch as are rea- 
 
 * dily adopted by the genius of our tongue^ 
 ' and incorporate eafily with our native 
 ' idioms/ 
 
 We have already taken a view of the 
 rife and progrefs of the Roman language 
 towards it's perfection ; let us now con- 
 fider the caufes of it's decline and corrup- 
 tion. From this enquiry we mall evi- 
 dently perceive, that the operation of the 
 fame caufes, jointly with others more 
 powerful of our own, muft neceffarily 
 make our language grow worfe and worfe, 
 and in no very long fpace of time reduce 
 it to an irretrievable ftate of corruption, 
 unlefs fome meafures are fpeedily taken to. 
 eftablifh it on a fixed and folid foundation. 
 And at the fame time it will appear, that 
 if it were once fixed, the means of pre- 
 ferving it in that ftate are much more 
 certain, and powerful, with us, than with 
 them, and that it might lad with little or 
 
 no
 
 254 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 no variation, at leaft as long as our con- 
 flitution. >rtO.* 
 
 Seneca attributes the corruption of lan- 
 guage in his days, to luxury, depravity 
 of morals, affectation of fmgularity in the 
 writers, prevalence of their example, and 
 love of novelty *. He has reprefented 
 the abufe in fuch ftrong terms, and in- 
 veighed againft the innovations introduced 
 at that time with fuch force, that one 
 would imagine he himfelf had entirely 
 kept clear of them. And yet no one was 
 a more remarkable inftance of the conta- 
 gious power of example, and the irrefif- 
 tible force of famion, than this very man, 
 as no one contributed more to alter and 
 corrupt the Roman ftyle than he himfelf. 
 Rollin has (hewn die fudden and general 
 
 Si difciplina civitatis laboravit, & fe in delicias dedit, 
 argumentum eft luxuris publics orationi* lafcivia Noa 
 Deceit aiius effe ingenio, alius animo color. 
 
 Quomodo convivorum luxuria, quomodo veftium, aegrz 
 civitatis indicia funt ; fie orationis licentia, fi modo fre- 
 quens eft, oftendit animos quoque, a quibus verba exeunt, 
 procidiffe. 
 
 Cum tffuevit animus faftidire quae ex more funt, & illi 
 pro fordidis folita funt, etiam in oratione quod novum eft 
 quaerit. 
 
 Haec vitia unus aliquis inducit, fi^ quo tune eloqueatia 
 eft, cctcri imitantur, Sc alteri tradunt. Scnec. en. 1 14, 1 1 5. 
 
 influence
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 255 
 
 influence of example in the following 
 manner. * One fingle perfon of reputa- 
 
 * tion fometimes, as Seneca obferves, and 
 
 * he himfelf is an inftance of it, who by 
 1 his eminent qualifications (hall have ac- 
 
 * quired the efteem of the publick, may 
 ' fuffice to introduce this bad tafte, and 
 ' corrupt ftyle. Whilft moved by a fecret 
 ' ambition, a man of this character ftrives 
 
 * to diftinguifh himfelf from the reft of 
 ' the orators and writers of his age, and 
 
 * to open a new path, where he thinks 
 
 * it better to march alone at the head of 
 ' his new difciples, than follow at the 
 c heels of the old matters ; whilft he pre- 
 fers the reputation of wit to that of fo- 
 ' lidity, purfues what is bright, rather than 
 
 * what is found, and fets the marvellous 
 before the natural and true; whilft he 
 e chufes rather to apply to the fancy than 
 
 * the judgement, to dazzle reafon than 
 
 * convince it, to furprize the hearer into 
 ' an approbation rather than deferve it, 
 4 and by a kind of delufion, and foft en- 
 
 * chantment, carry off the admiration and 
 f applaufes of fuperficial minds, (and fuch 
 
 * the multitude always are) other writers 
 
 * feduced
 
 256 BRITISH Boo* II. 
 
 ' feduced by the charms of novelty, and 
 
 * the hopes of a like fuccefs, will fuffer 
 
 * themfelves infenfibly to be hurried down 
 ' the ftream, and add ftrength to it by fol- 
 
 * lowing it. And thus the old tafte, tho' 
 
 * better in itfelf, {hall give way to the new 
 ' one without redrefs, which {hall pre- 
 ' fently afTume the force of a law, and 
 ' draw a whole nation after it *.' 
 
 But if luxury, fmgularky, novelty, and 
 example, had power to change the whole 
 conftitution of the Roman language, tho' 
 fixed and eftablimed on fuch folid foun- 
 dations, and by fuch certain rules, what 
 havock muft they not make with ours 
 which is deftitute of both ; left like a 
 fhip without either anchor, or rudder, to 
 be toft about perpetually the fport of every 
 gale from fafhion or caprice ? And how- 
 much more fpeedily and univerfally muft 
 all alterations and corruptions, whether in 
 found, or fenfe, be propagated by means 
 of the pulpit, and the prefs, whofe power, 
 as it were, inftantaneoufly pervade the 
 whole land ? 
 
 * How very appofite is the above paragraph to th 
 writings of lord Shaftsbury ? 
 
 It
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 257 
 
 It may be faid, that if a language fo 
 eftablifhed, fixed by fo perfect a ftandard, 
 replete with fuch excellent models, could 
 not be preferved from change and decay, 
 to what purpofe is it to take pains with 
 ours, which in time muft inevitably meet 
 the fame fate ? But will any one afk this 
 who has read Virgil, Horace, Cicero, Livy, 
 and the other great authors of Rome ? 
 Tho' the prodigal and fpendthrift fuccef- 
 fors of thefe great men, riotoufly and wan- 
 tonly fquandered away their language 
 .as well as the many other treafures be- 
 queathed to them by their frugal ancef- 
 tors, yet they could only do it during their, 
 own lives; and whatever debts they them- 
 felves might have contracted to folly, 
 their pofterity could not be deprived of 
 their eftate in knowlege, fo indiflblubly: 
 entailed by the fettlement of language. 
 And mall we not endeavour to fecure to 
 future generations, entire and unchanged, . 
 their birthright in Shakefpear, in Milton, 
 in Addifon, and Swift? Or mall we put 
 it in the power of one giddy and profufe 
 age to diffipate, or render of no value, the 
 heaps of treafure now collected in the 
 S many
 
 258 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 many excellent books written by Englifh 
 authors ? 
 
 If the natural mutability of things were 
 a fufBcient argument to deter us from en- 
 deavouring to fix them, the fame would 
 hold good in regard to every thing elfe as 
 well as to language, and we might fit down 
 for ever in a ftate of inaction. Mr. John- 
 fon has juftly obferved on this fubjedl, 
 -J- 'If the changes that we fear be thus ir- 
 1 refiftible, what remains but to acquiefcc 
 ' with filence, as in the other infurmount- 
 ' able diftrefTes of humanity ? It remains 
 
 * that we retard what we can not repel, 
 
 * that we palliate what we can not cure. 
 
 * Life may be lengthened by care, tho* 
 c death can not be ultimately defeated : 
 ( tongues, like governments, have a natu- 
 ' ral tendency to degeneration ; we have 
 ' long preferved our conftitution, let us 
 
 * make fome ftruggles for our language.* 
 
 But furely tho' the confideration of the 
 changeable and perifhable nature of all 
 other mortal works might juftly occaiion 
 defpondence, yet fuch defpondence would 
 not be well founded with refpeft to lan- 
 
 f Pref. to his dtft 
 
 guage,
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 259 
 
 guage, fince that is the only fublunary 
 thing from which men may expect per- 
 petuity to their labours. Of this we have 
 undeniable inftances in the Greek and 
 Roman authors 5 and furely a defire of 
 giving the fame immortality to our own 
 would not be irrational, and the attempt, 
 however ineffectual, would be ftill laud- 
 able. Is it not to be wimed, that in cafe 
 any great revolution mould hereafter 
 wholly deftroy our language in the fame 
 manner that theirs were, fo as that it 
 mould be no longer fpoken upon earth, 
 that the fair memorials of the many great 
 men produced in this country, the noble 
 model of our conftitution, and the true 
 fpirit of liberty, far fuperior to the anti- 
 ents, which breathes in our writers, mould 
 be preferved for ever like theirs, in our 
 books, in the maflerly drawing and lively 
 colours of the originals ? May not this be 
 the means of perpetuating the Britifh con- 
 ftitution either here or in fome other 
 country to the end of time ? Had not the 
 noble authors of antiquity come down to 
 us, we mould hardly have been able to 
 frame fo perfect an idea of liberty, or 
 S 2 enjoyed
 
 260 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 enjoyed the invaluable bleflings itbeftows. 
 And fhould it be in the fate of things, 
 that the long-laboured fabrick of our con- 
 ftitution, the work of ages, mould in time 
 moulder away, and tumble to the ground, 
 or be deftroyed by violence, who knows 
 in what regions of the earth the noble 
 edifice may again and again be raifed, 
 Ihould the beautiful model be preferved 
 entire in the works of our writers ? But 
 to leave thefe fpeculative points, and come 
 to what is more ufeful. 
 
 If it could be made appear probable, 
 that were our language once fixed upon 
 jufl and certain rules, it would in all like- 
 lihood continue in the fame ftate, at lead 
 as long as our conftitution remained, fure 
 no one would think any pains too great 
 to accomplim fo denrable a point. Let it 
 be remembered, that the Roman fpeech 
 and ftyle continued invariably pure from 
 the date of their perfection, 'till there was 
 an alteration in their government ; and 
 that the changes and corruptions intro- 
 duced into their language and writings, 
 were not 'till fome time after the people 
 had loft their liberties. This will in a 
 
 great
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 261 
 
 great meafure ferve to confirm the hypo- 
 thefis above laid down, that the ftability of 
 their language was chiefly, if not entirely, 
 owing to the general good tafte acquired 
 by the people from conftantly hearing 
 their orators. For upon the change of 
 the republick into a monarchy, oratory- 
 was banimed, or only the fhadow of it 
 remained. The people no longer ac- 
 cuftomed to hear their fpeech correctly 
 fpoken in publick, loft their diftinguifhing 
 faculty, their fole criterion of propriety $ 
 and the few perfons who did harangue at 
 ftated times, no longer reftrained to rules 
 by the awe of the people, gave a loofe to 
 fancy, and affected whatever pronuncia- 
 tion pleafed them moft. In this, thofe 
 who were moft admired were moft fol- 
 lowed. Thus their fpeech was no longer 
 uniform, but different modes were intro- 
 duced at different times, and obtained 
 vogue in proportion to the reputation of 
 thofe who gave rife to them. If therefore 
 a general good tafte in the people was the 
 fureft prefervative of found, and pronun- 
 ciation, it has been already (hewn, that 
 we have better opportunities of diffufing 
 S 3 fuch
 
 262 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 fuch a general tafte than the Romans had, 
 provided our pronunciation were once 
 eftablifhed by rules. I {hall now endea- 
 vour to mew upon the fame principle, 
 that in regard to the fenfe of words, and 
 accuracy of ityle, we have alfo much more 
 powerful means to preferve them in a 
 fixed ftate, were they once brought to it. 
 Whatever exaftnefs or delicacy the 
 Roman people in general might have ar- 
 rived at in point of fpeech, yet they could 
 know little or nothing of their written 
 language, and could therefore be but in- 
 competent judges of the flyle of their au- 
 thors. To obtain fkill in that, reading 
 and an application to books were neceflary; 
 but from the very manner in which thofe 
 books were propagated, the copies muft 
 have been fcarce and dear, and confe- 
 quently only read by the few. In this 
 refpect therefore the fecurity of the con- 
 tinuance of their written language in it's 
 ftate of perfection, was not fo great as of 
 that which was fpoken. But the cafe is 
 different with us. The prefs has open- 
 ed as wide an avenue to knowlege thro* 
 the eye, as thro' the ear, and people now 
 
 may
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 263 
 
 may be as univerfally benefited by read- 
 ing, as by difcourfe. Thus our ftyle in 
 writing having the fame common broad 
 bottom for it's bafis with our fpeech, 
 might be more fecure of ftanding than 
 that of the antients. But as the pyramid, 
 which of all buildings is the moft firm and 
 durable, if reverfed, is the moft liable to 
 fall, fo the very inftrument which might 
 contribute moft to the refinement and 
 eftablifhment of our language, if wrongly 
 applied, may be the fure means of it's cor- 
 ruption and change. As the prefs is in 
 conftant action, it muft conftantly difFufe 
 either a good or bad tafte thro' the peo- 
 ple. If they have no rules to guide them, 
 their judgements, governed by chance or 
 fancy, will confequently be erroneous ; 
 and however evidently fo they may be, in 
 time they muft be eftablifhed, and by 
 cuftom 
 (Quern penes arbitrium & jus & norma 
 
 loquendi) 
 
 obtain the force of a law. Venal and 
 needy writers, whofe view is profit, will 
 of courfe conform to the reigning tafte, as 
 the moft likely way to obtain fale for their 
 S 4 works;
 
 264 B R 1 r I S H BOOK II. 
 works ; and they who are actuated by 
 nobler motives, will be allured by the 
 charms of prefent fame. Even the judi- 
 cious few, finding their endeavours vain to 
 ftem it, will fuffer themfelves to be car- 
 ried away by the torrent. This is the 
 great fource of the corruptions in our lan- 
 guage; * ' And thefe corruptions very 
 * few of the bed authors in our age have 
 ' wholly efcaped.' If Seneca with ail his 
 difcernment, his knowlege, and fine tafte, 
 could not refift the force of famion, but 
 fell himfelf into the very faults againft 
 which he fo violently declaimed, and that 
 in a language fo regulated, fo fixed, what 
 are we to expecl: from our writers in one 
 as yet unfettled, unafcertained ? The Ro- 
 mans had one tolerable fecurity for the 
 prefervation of their ftyle, from the high 
 price of their books, fo that no works 
 were likely to meet with many purchafers, 
 but fuch as were of reputation. Or if any 
 innovations were begun in thofe in the 
 time of the republick, they were not of 
 courfe"* adopted into their fpeech, fince 
 
 ' * Swift. 
 
 the
 
 .CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 265 
 
 the people in general, who were the guar- 
 dians of that, knew little or nothing of 
 the writings, and would not eafily bear 
 any new modes in their orators. But with 
 us a wide communication is opened be- 
 tween the two channels, the ftreams are 
 blended, and whatever taint there is in 
 the one, of courfe infects the other. We 
 fee daily that new phrafes and words are 
 adopted from writings into difcourfe, and 
 from difcourfe into writings. Since there- 
 fore the people in general muft be ulti- 
 mately the regulators of our language, at 
 leaft in it's moft efTential points, it mainly 
 imports us that they fhould be properly 
 qualified for fo important an office. If 
 they muft all be taught to read, it were 
 to be wimed they were alfo taught to un- 
 derftand. Whilft they are committed to 
 the care of the moft ignorant mafters, and 
 receive the firft rudiments of language in 
 the very word books that can be found, 
 is it to be hoped that they fhould acquire 
 more knowlege than their teachers, or 
 have a notion of ftyle different from the 
 models which have been prefented to 
 them ? If they were well inftruded, and 
 
 were
 
 2 66 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 were made acquainted with none but 
 " good patterns, there can be no doubt but 
 as general a good tafte would prevail 
 amongft them in regard to written lan- 
 guage, as did amongft the Romans with 
 refpect to that which was fpoken. The 
 confequence of which general good tafte 
 would be, that no books which were not 
 written in a good ftyle would now find 
 any fale, as no orator could then make 
 his way, who did not fpeak with pro- 
 priety. And if this were the cafe, it is 
 incredible what a number of fountains 
 from whence flow ignorance and folly, 
 vice and impiety, would at once be dried 
 up, and difappear. But this can never be 
 'till the preceptors have a fyftem of well- 
 digefted rules, to guide themfelves as well 
 as their pupils in the courfe of their in- 
 ftructions. 'Till that happens the propa- 
 gation of reading is but the propagation 
 of error, and the prefs muft continue to 
 be the fource of ignorance, and falfe 
 tafte. 
 
 I mall clofe this chapter with ob- 
 ferving that we have one great advantage 
 over the antients, which is, that fo long 
 
 at
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 267 
 
 at leaft as our religion continues unaltered, 
 we have one fure barrier againft a total 
 change of our language. This is fet forth 
 by Dr. Swift in his letter to lord Oxford, 
 where he fays, ' It is your lordfhip's ob- 
 c fervation, that if it were not for the bible 
 
 * and common-prayer-book in the vulgar 
 ' tongue, we mould hardly be able to 
 ' underfland any thing that was written 
 ' among us an hundred years ago 5 which 
 { is certainly true : for thofe books being 
 e perpetually read in churches, have prov- 
 < ed a kind of ftandard for language, 
 
 * efpecially to the common people/ And 
 this might be made a more certain, ge- 
 neral, and durable criterion of words, 
 than any the Romans had, not only in 
 point of found and pronunciation, but alfo 
 of fenfe and meaning. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 268 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 C H A P. VIII. 
 
 That we have it more in our power to pro- 
 pagate our language in other countries) 
 and make it univerfal, than they had. 
 
 AS the chief glory of a people arifes 
 from their authors, the propaga- 
 tion of their language is neceflary to the 
 difplaying of that glory in it's full luftre, 
 which otherwife would be unknown in 
 other regions, or dimly feen as thro' a 
 cloud. Of the propagation of a language 
 there are chiefly three caufes, conqueft, 
 commerce, and the number of ufeful or 
 entertaining books which are written in 
 it. Of theie, the firft has hitherto proved 
 ineffectual. The victor may change the 
 laws and cuftoms of a country, but he 
 will find it difficult, if not impofTible, to 
 make a total change in their language. 
 The ufe of their native fpeech is the laft 
 thing which the vanquimed would wil- 
 lingly part with, and next to their thoughts, 
 is what the conqueror has the leaft power 
 pyer. . The attempt would prove imprac- 
 ticable
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 269 
 
 ticable with regard to a prefent race, the 
 chief of whom are too old to learn a 
 new tongue j and indeed all endeavours to 
 eftablifh it in a rifing generation have na- 
 turally ended in a fort of compromife, a 
 mixture of the two, from which refulted 
 a new one. From this fource may be 
 derived almoft all the various languages 
 now fpoken in Europe. Commerce in itfelf 
 is but a very inadequate caufe of fpread- 
 ing language, both as a very fmall know-* 
 lege of it will fuffice for the carrying on 
 bufmefs, and as in this cafe it would be 
 confined only to the mercantile part of 
 other countries. Beiides, this too is apt to 
 give rife to a new jargon, compofed out 
 of the refpeclive tongues of the nations 
 which trade with each other. But a 
 conftant commerce naturally excites cu- 
 riofity to be acquainted with the hiftory, 
 cuftoms, and manners, of the people 
 with whom it is carried on, which can not 
 be obtained in a fatisfadory manner with- 
 out undemanding their language. In 
 this refpedt Great Britain has not only an 
 infinite advantage over Rome, but in pro- 
 portion to the extent of her trade, over 
 
 all
 
 270 B R I r I S H BOOK II. 
 all other countries in the world. For 
 if by common confent of all nations a 
 language were to be pitched upon which 
 fhould be of univerfal ufe in point of 
 traffick, the fuffrages of courfe would 
 fall, cteteris paribm, upon that fpoken 
 by the people who carried on the largeft 
 and moft extenfive trade with the reft of 
 the world. That the Engliih therefore 
 is hardly known abroad, and the French 
 fo univerfally, can not be attributed to 
 that caufe, unlefs they are allowed to ex- 
 ceed us in that point. To the propa- 
 gation of a language, it is necefTary that 
 they who are inclined to it may learn it 
 with eafe and certainty j but this it is im- 
 poflible to do without the ufe of rules. 
 The French have very wifely with great 
 pains and labour regulated and fixed their 
 tongue 5 fo that foreigners of all countries 
 may without much difficulty acquire even 
 an accurate fkill in it both as to found 
 and fenfe. Whereas a total negledt on 
 the part of the Englim, in thofe refpeds, 
 lias rendered it impoffible to Grangers 
 either to pronounce or underftand it with 
 any degree of propriety or certainty. Nor 
 
 is
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 271 
 
 is this to be wondered at, confidering how 
 few even of the natives have any great 
 knowlege of either. And the difficulty 
 of learning it abroad, may be judged from 
 the very fmall progrefs made in it by 
 foreigners who re fide for years amongft 
 us ; many of whom pafs great part of 
 their lives, and take immenfe pains, with- 
 out attaining even a tolerable idea of it. 
 If the queftion be afked, why the Englifh 
 above all other European languages is fo 
 hard to be attained, the anfwer is ready, 
 that it is the only one not yet reduced to 
 rule. And this is the true reafon that, 
 notwithftanding our univerfal commerce, 
 it is fo little known abroad, except to a 
 few of the curious -, and it is from a con- 
 trary proceeding that the French has ob- 
 tained a general currency. It may be 
 worth the confideration of politicians, 
 whether this may not in time give them 
 a fuperiority in trade, as it may be a ftrong 
 inducement to moft people, where other 
 refpedts are equal, to give the preference 
 to thofe whofe fpeech they underftand, 
 ^nd with whom they can converfe with 
 eafe. 
 
 3 But
 
 272 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 But the great caufe of fpreading a lan- 
 guage, and which makes it mod fought 
 after, is the number of ufeful or delight- 
 ful books which are written in it. Of 
 thefe the latter too has the preference. 
 For writings merely of ufe, when well 
 tranflated, lofe nothing of their intrinfick 
 value : but poems, and elegant compo^ 
 fitions in profe, which are chiefly calcu- 
 lated to give pleafure, muft lofe the greateft 
 part of their beauty in another language, 
 as that confifts chiefly in the harmony re- 
 fulting from the arrangement of words, 
 and a peculiar grace and force of phrafeo- 
 logy. Tranflations, to works of this 
 fort, are like prints to piftures, they can 
 only mew the defign, but the mafterly 
 ftrokes and expreffion, are but faintly 
 imitated, and the colouring entirely loft. 
 But if the fpreading of books in the ori- 
 ginals in other countries, and the num- 
 ber of their readers, were to be the reft 
 of the excellence of their writers, France 
 would certainly bfear away the palm, not 
 only from Great Britain, but from Athens 
 and Rome. For one reader which So- 
 phocles, Euripides, Terence, and Horace 
 
 have
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 273 
 have found in any country in Europe, their 
 Corneille, Racine, Moliere, and Boileau, 
 hav.e met with twenty. Whilft the Englifh 
 authors of the greateft eminence are known 
 in moft even by name but to a few ; and 
 their works like rare manufcripts are only 
 to be found in the libraries of the curious. 
 Is it becaufe that their writers and lan- 
 guage are really fuperior to ours ? The 
 contrary may be aflerted without fearing 
 any imputation of prejudice. No, it is 
 becaufe they are read, and underftood 
 with eafe. Where pleafure is the end, 
 the means to come at it muft not be too 
 laborious. The delight in reading the 
 beft authors muft be diminifhed in pro- 
 portion to the difficulty of underftanding 
 them. The French have made an high- 
 way thro' their part of ParnafTus, in which 
 the eafe wherewith the traveller jogs 
 along, gives him an higher relifh for the 
 beauties around him, and many places, 
 like objects on a road, become remarkable, 
 only by their being there, which other- 
 wife might never be heard of. Whereas 
 we, who muft be allowed to pofTefs the 
 more lovely part of the hill, whether 
 T confi-
 
 274 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 confidered in regard to it's natural or 
 improved beauties, by fufFering the way 
 to be almoft impaffable, have rendered 
 it unfrequented. To what other caufe 
 can it be affigned (not to enter into any 
 companion of the dead, which would be 
 wandering into too wide a field) that the 
 name of Voltaire is fo familiar to all 
 the mouths of Europe, whilft thofe of 
 Akenfide or Mafon are fcarce ever heard 
 but from Englim tongues ? 
 
 It will perhaps be allowed, that if the 
 Englifh language were as well and as 
 univerfally known in Europe, as the 
 French, it would foon obtain the pre- 
 ference. And in that cafe it muft alfo be 
 allowed, that it would obtain a more ge- 
 neral ufe than ever the Roman did even 
 in it's moft flourifhing {rate, as this has 
 been already effected by the French. 
 That this advantage which the moderns 
 have over the antients is chiefly owing 
 to the invention of printing, is a point too 
 obvious to be infifted on. 
 
 CHAP,
 
 CHAP, IX. EDUCATION. 275 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Whether our language be capable of afuf* 
 ficient degree of perfeftion to make the 
 ftudy of it general^ and to afford as good 
 a profpett of it's duration as the Latin. 
 
 IT may be faid, that if agreeablenefs 
 of found, and the charm of numbers, 
 be fo ufeful to the propagation, and fo 
 neceffary to the permanence of a lan- 
 guage, ours being far inferior in it's own 
 nature to the Roman in thofe refpects, 
 and not equal to fome of the modern, 
 muft have a much lefs chance of being 
 fought after by the prefent times, or of 
 being handed down to future ages : that 
 if the utmoft pains were taken to polim 
 it, it would only be like cutting a pebble 
 after the famion of a diamond, which may 
 make a (hew indeed, and have fome luftre, 
 but being of no intrinfick value, will not 
 bear a price, nor intereft people much in 
 it's prefervation. This opinion feems to 
 have been too haftily adopted by moil 
 writers upon this fubject. Upon a fair 
 enquiry it might perhaps appear, that 
 T 2 thev
 
 27 6 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 Hra: ' )mw to fhft 3fii 
 
 they have judged too fuperficially, and 
 
 miftaken a bad habit of body, occafioned 
 by humours, the effect of indolence and 
 intemperance, for original defects in the 
 conflitution. If the ftamina be ftrong, 
 and the vitals untouched, all diforders 
 may be removed by proper remedies. But 
 to examine the conftitution of our lan- 
 guage, would be to enter upon a topick 
 too extenfive for the nature of this work. 
 
 I fhall therefore only throw together 
 
 .< c> . ' Ji. l o 3*j 
 
 fome thoughts upon our poetick ftyle, 
 confidered with relation to that of the 
 Roman, and of the modern tongues. 
 In which I fhall endeavour to mew, that 
 upon the whole we are not inferior to 
 . the antients, and have an undoubted fupe- 
 riority over all the moderns, from the very 
 genius and conftitution of our language. 
 
 In the poetick ftyle two things are to 
 be confidered, expreflion, and harmony. 
 The firft regards the choice and arrange- 
 ment of words confidered as figns of* our 
 ideas : the laft, their election and difpo- 
 fition with refpect to their found only, 
 without reference to their meaning. To 
 expreflion, copioufnefs and energy are ne- 
 
 ceflary ;
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 277 
 
 ceflaryj in the firft of which our lan- 
 guage is perhaps fuperior to all others, 
 in the laft may yield to none. And the 
 only complaint in regard to either is what 
 Mr. Johnfon has juftly made, the want of 
 regulation. He fays in the preface to his 
 dictionary, * When I took the firft furvey 
 
 * of my undertaking, I found our fpeech 
 
 * copious without order, and energetick 
 c without rules : wherever I turned my 
 ' view, there was perplexity to be difen- 
 f tangled, and confufion to be regulated/ 
 In point of harmony indeed, it feems to 
 be taken for granted, that our language 
 is far inferior to the antients, and not equal 
 to fome of the modern tongues. But 
 upon examination it will appear that this 
 opinion is founded upon the corruption of 
 language by our writers, rather than any 
 original defect in itfelf. At firft view the 
 Roman feems to have a vaft fuperiority 
 over ours in it's very conftruction, from 
 which refults a natural fitnefs in it's words 
 to form harmonious combinations, as well 
 as in the regulations eftablifhed to give 
 that natural fitnefs it's full force. The 
 firft great advantage which it has over 
 
 T 1310X5 ' 
 
 3 ours
 
 278 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 ours arifes from it's original conftru&ion ; 
 wherein the different cafes, genders, and 
 numbers of their nouns, as well as moods 
 and tenfes of their verbs, are all expreffed 
 by changes of termination in their words. 
 From this two good confequences follow- 
 ed ; one, that their language was freed 
 from that multitude of monofyllables with 
 which ours is neceffarily crowded, in or- 
 der to mark thofe variations j the other, 
 that the final fyllables, which leave the 
 ftrongeft impreffion on the ear, being no 
 longer left to chance, were fettled by efta- 
 blifhed rules, fo as to form the greateft di- 
 verfity, as well as agreeablenefs of found. 
 The fecond great advantage arofe from the 
 unlimited privilege given to their writers 
 to tranfpofe their words at pleafure, and 
 to range them in whatever order they 
 thought proper fo as to form the moft 
 agreeable cadence. But if it mould ap- 
 pear in regard to the firft, that the origi- 
 nal formation of their language only fitted 
 it for the particular meafures and num- 
 bers which they ufed, and that ours is 
 equally well adapted to thofe which we 
 if it mould appear alfo that our 
 
 meafures
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 279 
 
 meafures and numbers have upon the 
 whole a fuperiority over theirs -, will not 
 this feeming advantage at once vanifh? 
 As to the fecond, tho' the reftraint laid 
 upon our writers by the necefiity of fol- 
 lowing the natural order of words may 
 make it more difficult for them to form 
 an harmonious combination, yet when 
 that is obtained, there can be no doubt but 
 that the intuitive clearnefs with which 
 the understanding perceives the meaning 
 of the words, by means of that natural 
 order, muft leave it more difengaged to 
 attend to the numbers, and confequently 
 give them an additional luftre. 
 
 That what I have advanced in relation 
 to numbers may appear in a clear light, it 
 will not be amifs to take a comparative 
 view of the Latin heroick meafure, as 
 that is the chief, with the Englim. It 
 might ealily be proved from the fpecifick 
 differences of the two languages, that they 
 require different meafures, and that the 
 hexameter of the Latins is beft fuited to 
 the genius of their tongue, as blank verfe 
 is to ours. But this at prefent would take 
 up too much time unneceflarily. It is 
 T 4 fufficient
 
 2 8o BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 fufEcient to my purpofe that fuch has 
 been the practice of the beft writers in 
 both ; and whoever has the leaft doubt 
 whether this practice has it's foundation 
 in reafon, may foon be convinced that the 
 Latin hexameter is not fuited to our 
 tongue, by looking over the attempts 
 made in that way by Sidney, and others ; 
 whofe verfes of that fort feem to move 
 with a ridiculous and bulefque air, inftead 
 of that irate and majefty which we admire 
 in the Roman poets. He would alfo be 
 immediately fenfible how ill adapted Latin 
 words are to Englifh blank verfe, fhould 
 he endeavour to fit them to that meafure. 
 The Latin heroick line confifts of fix feet, 
 the Englifh but of five. This at firft view 
 gives the former the pre-eminence over 
 the latter in point of fize, and when we 
 
 lacpme to examine their movements, in 
 .point of flatelinefs alfo. Nor can there 
 be any doubt that if the mere fbufture 
 of the verfes were alone to be confidered, 
 without reference to their ufe, but that 
 the former would -have evident advan~ 
 Uges over the latter. But when they come 
 to be examined with relation to their fit-
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 281 
 nefs to go thro' a long work, the latter 
 will have a manifeft fuperiority. To 
 prove this it need only be (hewn, that the 
 Latin heroick admits but of two move- 
 ments, the dactyl, and fpondee : whereas 
 the Englifh admits of feven, the fpondee, 
 the trochee, the iambus, pyrrichius, dac- 
 tyl, anapceft, and tribrachus. Hence we 
 may fee what an infinite advantage the 
 latter has over the former in point of vari- 
 ety, and confequently of expreffion and 
 harmony, which are the primary, as mere 
 found and melody are only the fecondary 
 qualities of numbers. So that granting 
 their language to be compofed of words 
 more fonorous and agreeable to the ear, 
 yet as their verfe can have but two move- 
 ments, it is irnpomble to vary thofe in fuch 
 a manner, but in works of any length a 
 great famenefs of cadence muft be per- 
 ceived, for which no richnefs of found can 
 compenfate. Now if what is here faid of 
 the Engli(h meafure be true, it is appa- 
 rent from the ufe of feven movements, 
 that a fkilful poet may in the longeft per- 
 formance throw an almoft infinite variety 
 of numbers into his verfes, and confe- 
 quently
 
 282 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 quently never cloy the ear. If the Ro- 
 mans had but two bells, and we have fe- 
 ven, tho' theirs might be compofed of a 
 finer metal, and their tone be much fupe- 
 rjor,yet whoever liftened for any length of 
 time, would find himfelf much more de- 
 lighted by the various changes rung upon 
 the one,than by the mere pleafure of found 
 in the other. 
 
 I know it will at once be faid, that my 
 reafonings upon this head muft of courfe 
 fall to the ground, as they are built upon 
 a falfe hypothefis. And yet, however 
 univerfally the contrary notion may have 
 prevailed, there is not any thing more de- 
 monftrably true than what I have advanc- 
 ed, in regard to the movements of which an 
 Englifh heroick verfe may be compofed. 
 But as common received opinions, grown 
 inveterate by time, are not eafily to be 
 rooted out, it will require a particular 
 treatife to fet this whole matter right, 
 and to lay open the theory of Englifh num- 
 bers, which at prefent feem to be inve- 
 loped with a general darknefs. Left the 
 reader mould too haftily pronounce upon 
 what I have already advanced, I would 
 
 have
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 283 
 
 have him afk himfelf this queftion, c Am 
 ' I acquainted with the principles of Eng- 
 c lifh poetick meafure, or do I know what 
 ' it is which conftitutes an heroick verfe ?' 
 If he finds himfelf at a lofs, he can not be 
 certain but that what I have fet down may 
 be true. If he goes by the common rule, 
 that is indubitably falfe. It is generally 
 received that an Englifh heroick line con- 
 fifts of ten fyllables, whereas nothing is 
 more certain than that many, and thofe 
 very harmonious, are compofed of eleven, 
 twelve, thirteen, nay even fourteen fylla- 
 bles. But the confideration of thefe mat- 
 ters would carry me too far out of the way. 
 It will however be immediately to my pur- 
 pofe to trace the fource of the erroneous 
 opinions fo generally fpread in regard to 
 this point, as it will at the fame time lay 
 open one of the chief caufes of the cor- 
 ruption of our language. 
 
 Nothing has contributed fo much to 
 deftroy all true tafle for poetry as the efta- 
 bliihment of rhime. A foolim admira- 
 tion of this trifling and artificial ornament, 
 has turned people's thoughts from the con- 
 templation of the real and natural beauty 
 
 of
 
 284 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 of numbers. Like the Ifraelites, we have 
 gone whoring after our own fancies, and 
 worshipped this idol with fo infatuated a 
 zeal, that our language has in a great 
 meafure fallen a facrifice to it. Hear 
 what a candid -j- Frenchman has ingenu- 
 oufly faid upon this fubjec~t, notwithftand- 
 ing that their tongue is incapable of any 
 tolerable poetick meafure without rhime. 
 
 * There is no rule in poetry, whofe obfer- 
 e vance cofts fo much trouble, and pro- 
 c duces fo few beauties in verfe, as that of 
 
 * rhiming. Rhime frequently maims, and 
 c almoil always enervates the fenfe of a dif- 
 
 * courfe. For one bright thought which 
 
 * the paffion of rhiming throws in our 
 ( way by chance, it is certainly every day 
 ' the caufe of a hundred others, which 
 c people would blufh to make ufe of, were 
 
 * it not for the richnefs or novelty of the 
 ' rhime, with which thefe thoughts are 
 ' attended. 
 
 * Some perhaps will fay, that there 
 c muft certainly be a much greater beauty 
 in rhime than I pretend to allow. The 
 < confent of all nations (they will add) is 
 
 ^ Du Bos, Crit. Ref. vol. i. c. 36. 
 
 ' a fen-
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 285 
 
 c a fenfible proof in favour of rhime ; 
 ' the ufe of -which is at prefent univer- 
 
 * fally adopted.fftiv 
 
 1 My anfwer is, in the firft place, that I 
 ' do not conteft the agreeablenefs of 
 ' rhime ; I only look upon this agree- 
 
 * ablenefs in a much inferior light to that 
 
 * which arifes from the numbers and har- 
 c mony of verfe, and which fhews itfelf 
 ' continually during the metrical pronun- 
 f ciation. Numbers and harmony are a 
 c light which throws out a conflant luilre, 
 ' but rhime is a mere flam, which difap- 
 c pears after having given only a mort- 
 c lived fplendor. In fact, the richeft 
 
 * rhime has but a tranfient efFcct. Were 
 
 * we even to rate the value of verfes only 
 ' by the difficulties that are to be fur- 
 c mounted in the making them, it is lefs 
 ' difficult, without comparifon, to rhime 
 ' completely, than to compofe numerous 
 
 * and harmonious verfes. In aiming at 
 1 the latter, we meet with obflacles at 
 
 v * every word. Nothing extricates a French 
 c poet out of thefe difficulties but hia.ge- 
 c nius, his ear, and perfeverancc ; for he 
 [ has no affiftance to expert from any me-
 
 286 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 ' thod hitherto reduced to art. Thefe ob- 
 ' ftructions do not occur fo frequently, 
 ' when a perfon propofes only to rhime 
 ' well j and befides, in endeavouring to 
 f furmount them, he meets with the affif- 
 
 * tance of a dictionary of rhimes, that fa- 
 vourite book of all fevere rhimers. For 
 
 * let thefe gentlemen fay what they will, 
 ' there are none of them but what have 
 
 * this excellent work in their ftudies. 
 
 Secondly, I grant that we rhime all 
 ' our verfes, and that our neighbours do 
 ' likewife moft part of theirs. We find 
 c the ufe of rhime eftablifhed even in Afia 
 c and America. But the greateft part of 
 
 * thefe people are barbarians ; and the 
 
 * rhiming nations that have been fince ci- . 
 1 vilized, were barbarous and illiterate 
 
 * when their poetry was firft formed. 
 ' The languages they fpoke were not fuf- 
 
 * ceptible of a greater perfection of verfe, 
 
 * when they laid, as it were, the firft foun- 
 
 * dations of their poetry. True it is, that . 
 
 * the European nations here fpoken of, 
 
 * became in procefs of time a polite and 
 4 learned people. But as they polifhed 
 ' themfelves not 'till a long time after they 
 
 'had
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 287 
 
 ' had been formed into a body politick, 
 ' and as their national cuftoms were al- 
 c ready fettled, and even ftrengthened by 
 
 * the length of time they had been ftand- 
 c ing, when thefe nations received the im- 
 { provements arifmg from a judicious cul- 
 1 ture of the Greek and Latin tongues j 
 c thofe cuftoms have only been polifhed 
 f and mended, but could never be entirely 
 4 altered. An architect, who has under- 
 1 taken to repair an old Gothick building, 
 
 * may make fome alterations to render it 
 ' more commodious, but he can not alter 
 ' the defects which arife from the firftcon- 
 
 * ftruction. He can not fliape it into a re- 
 c gular building without pulling down the 
 c old one, in order to erect a new edifice 
 
 * upon a different plan. 
 
 ' Rhime, as well as fiefs and duels, 
 f owes it's origin to the barbaroufnefs of 
 ' our anceftors. The people from whom 
 c the modern nations are defcended, and 
 ' who fubverted the Roman empire, had 
 ' already their poets, tho' barbarians, when 
 
 * they fir ft fettled in Gaul and other pro- 
 
 * vinces of the empire. As the languages 
 ' in which thefe ignorant poets wrote, 
 
 3 * were
 
 2 83 BRITISH BooKlL 
 c were not fufficiently improved to bear 
 ' handling according to the rules of metre, 
 ' nor even admitted of attempting it, they 
 ' fancied there would be fome ornament 
 ' in terminating with the fame found, two 
 
 * confecutive or relative parts of a dif- 
 ' courfe, both of which were to be of an 
 c equal extent. This identity of final 
 
 * founds, repeated at the end of a certain 
 ' number of fyllables, formed a kind of 
 ' grace, and feemed to exprefs, or did, if 
 ' you pleafe, exprefs fomething of a ca- 
 
 * dence in verfe. Thus it was, in all pro- 
 c bability, that rhime firft rofe and efla- 
 
 * blifhed itfelf in Europe.' 
 
 Here we have a full picture of rhime 
 prefented us, together with the hiftory of 
 it's rife and progrefs ; the legitimate off- 
 fpring of barbarifm and neceffity, nurfed 
 by ignorance. However untoward it'* 
 profpefts might be from the circum- 
 ftances of it's birth and nurture, yet in 
 time it has arrived at fuch a degree of 
 flrength and power, as to invade the pof- 
 feflions of harmony and numbers in the 
 regions of poetry, the genuine children of 
 knowlege and politenefs, which it has en- 
 tirely
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 289 
 tirely fubdued, and reduced them to a ftate 
 of flavery, and a blind obedience to it's ab- 
 folute authority. The barbarifm of it's 
 origin can hot be doubted, fince it has ever 
 been found amongft the moil rude and 
 favage nations, but was not even known to 
 the more polimed and refined. Nor can 
 we be to feek from what ftock it comes, 
 when we fee that it is fo congenial with 
 all the tongues derived from the Gothick 
 root, that in thofe it is confidered as a 
 chief ornament, and gives the moft gene- 
 ral delight; whereas in the nobler Greek 
 and Latin, far from adding any beauty to 
 them, it becomes ridiculous, and occafions 
 ifguft -f-. So that any nation, which is 
 roud of it's poetry on that fcore, only 
 boafts of it's barbarity, and is fo far on a 
 footing with thofe favages who wear rings 
 and other gewgaws in their nofes, and 
 bobbing at their lips, by way of ornament. 
 And mould any people be happily pof- 
 feiTed of a language equally capable of all 
 the charms and powers of numbers with 
 
 f- This will be at once perceived by looking over trie 
 poems in Leonine verfe, which in the times of monkifh 
 learning were fo much in vogue, 
 
 U thofe
 
 sgo BRITISH BOOK II. 
 thofe of the antients,yet give the preference 
 to rhime, wherein would they differ from 
 the wild Indians, who barter their dia- 
 monds, and precious ftones, for bits of 
 glafs and tinkling bawbles ? 
 
 Rhime has not only been a falfe and 
 unneceflary ornament to the Englifh 
 poetry, but it has likewife almoft de- 
 ftroyed it's true beauty, and in a great 
 meafure unharmonized our language. 
 Like fome kinds of red paint, which ap- 
 plied to the face, give it an artificial glow, 
 but whofe poifonous quality by conftant 
 life devours the natural bloom, ihrivels 
 up the fkin, and impairs the conftitution. 
 So that a cuftom begun thro' accidental 
 palenefs from a weakly habit of body, or 
 indulged thro' wantonnefs, may in time 
 come to be not a matter of choice, but 
 f neceffity. 
 
 When our language was in k's firft 
 ilate of rudenefs and imperfection, like 
 moft others derived from the fame Go- 
 thick original, it abounded fo in monofyl-. 
 lables, and words artlefsly compofed of the- 
 moft diilbnant and difcordant letters, that 
 all attempts in our potes towards intro- 
 ducing
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 291 
 
 ducing numbers and harmony into their 
 meafure muft have proved fruitlefs and vain. 
 To fupply their place they were there- 
 fore obliged to have recourfe to rhime, 
 But when it was enriched and refined, by' 
 means of the cultivation of the learned 
 languages, with vaft ftores of well-formed 
 and well-founding words, compofed of 
 different, and proper numbers of fyl- 
 lables, it would have been eafy then to 
 have eftablifhed new and harmonious 
 meafures, fuited to the genius of the 
 newly improved tongue. But on the 
 contrary, the only ufe made of thefe ac- 
 quifitions, was, to increafe the empire of 
 rhime. Foreign words were not admit- 
 ted as denizens, but treated as prifoners ; 
 and without regard to their noble defcent, 
 
 rere clothed in flavifh drefles, and chained 
 the oar. The mercilefs poets, with a 
 
 uelty like that of Procruftes, dragged 
 
 11 fuch as were of tall and comely ftature 
 the bed of rhime, and lopped them to 
 
 lat fize. Nor did fuch of the natives 
 as happened to refemble them in thofe 
 reipefts, efcape one bit better. What- 
 ever diforders there might have been in 
 U 2 our
 
 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 our language before, this was the firft 
 blow which was given to it's conftitution, 
 and the firft difeafe which feized upon the 
 vitals. Moft words of two fyllables .were 
 reduced to one, of three to two, and fo 
 upwards. This too was done by a gene- 
 ral law, with fo little regard to found, 
 that the vowels were of courfe banimed, 
 and the harmeft confonants often huddled 
 together. Nor can there be any caufe 
 affigned for this, but in order to increafe 
 the poet's number of rhimes. For as the 
 final fyllables of our heroick lines in rhime 
 muft be long, or accented, no word end- 
 ing in a fhort or unaccented fyllable could 
 poffibly be made ufe of in that refpedt. 
 Againft this the poets found a fure re- 
 medy, by throwing out the vowels of every 
 fuch fhort fyllable, and crowding the 
 confonants into the preceding one. This 
 practice is humoroufly defcribed by 
 Dr. Swift in one of the Tatlers : c Thus 
 
 * we cram one fyllable, and cut off the 
 
 * reft i as the owl fattened her mice 
 ' after fhe had bit off their legs, to pre- 
 c vent them from running away j and if 
 ours be the fame reafon for maiming 
 
 'of
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 293 
 
 ' of words, it will certainly anfwer the 
 c end, for I am fure no other nation will 
 ' defire to borrow them/ 
 
 An example or two will fet this matter 
 in a clear light, and at the fame time mew 
 the ill effects of fuch practice. The third 
 perfon of the prefent tenfe of the Englifh 
 verb, to move, was formerly written 
 movetb, of prove, proveth ; but as thefe 
 could not be ufed as rhimes, they were 
 reduced to one fyllable, and the termi- 
 nation altered to moves, proves ; and this 
 rule was made general in regard to all 
 verbs. In the increafe of the verbs, to 
 drudge, to grudge, it was formerly wrote 
 and pronounced drudg-ed,grudg-ed, as two 
 fyllables, but for the fame reafon they 
 were reduced to one, drudg'd, grudgd. 
 In the laft of thefe examples we may fee 
 that there are five confonants to one vowel. 
 And this cuftom, as Dr. Swift has very 
 juftly obferved, of joining the moft ob- 
 durate confonants, without one inter- 
 vening vowel, has formed fuch harfli 
 and jarring founds as none but a northern 
 ear could endure. In the former, by 
 changing the old termination of -eth, as, 
 U 3 proveth^
 
 294 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 frovetb, into -j, as proves, the ufe of 
 that letter has been greatly multiplied. 
 This is more immediately obvious in all 
 fuch verbs as originally contain one or 
 more is, as defigns for defigncth^ hifles for 
 hi/eth, difpo/e/es for difpo/e/etb. By be- 
 ing made alfo the termination of moil 
 nouns fubftantive in the plural, inftead of 
 en, with which many of them formerly 
 ended *, and continuing to be the gene- 
 ral fign of the genitive cafe, our language 
 has been, much hurt as to found, by the 
 perpetual repetition of a difagreeable let- 
 ter, with which it before too much a- 
 bounded, as the letter c before the vowels 
 e and / had exactly the fame power, 
 and pronunciation -f-. And tho' cuflom 
 have made all this fo familiar to our ears, 
 as to let it pafs unnoticed by us, yet it is 
 immediately perceived by all foreigners, 
 who have generally agreed in giving it 
 the name of the hiffing language. 
 
 Nor are thefe the only ill confequences 
 of the ufe of rhime j pronunciation has 
 been alfo rendered more uncertain by it, 
 
 * As houfen for houfes. 
 f e. . cesfe, civil. 
 
 for
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 295 
 for tho' at firft view it might rather feem 
 to be a guide to that, as it certainly would 
 were it always ufed with fcrupulous ex- 
 a&nefs, yet by the latitude which poets 
 have allowed ttamfelves, in order to ren- 
 der the tafk of rhime more eafy, it ferves 
 rather to perplex, than afiift people, ia 
 their enquiries after true pronunciation, 
 For thefe gentlemen have not been con- 
 tented to admit into the number of good 
 rhimes, all fuch words whofe final fyllables 
 ftrike the ear with a fimilarity of found, 
 but all fuch as appear to the eye con- 
 ftructed in the fame manrter, tho' their 
 founds be very different when repeated. 
 For inftance ; the words love s, proves, and 
 groves, appear exactly fimilar to the eye; 
 the vowels and two laft confonants in all 
 being the very fame, they look as if their 
 founds too mould be alfo exactly alike, and 
 would certainly be read fo by one who 
 was not acquainted with the idiom oSour 
 tongue. And yet thefe three words, 
 which are allowed to be good rhimes, 
 have very different founds to the ear ; 
 tho' cuftom has rendered this familiar to 
 us, yet the abfurdity of the praftice will 
 be immediately viiible by writing down 
 
 U 4 the
 
 296 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 the words as they are pronounced, luvs, 
 promts, and groves, by which we may 
 perceive, that it is only in the laft word 
 the letter o has it's own found, in the firft 
 it has the power of a u, and in the fecond 
 of a double o, and confequently that thefe 
 words can no more rhime to each other 
 than thofe that are compofed of different 
 vowels. Nor can there be conceived a 
 more ridiculous rule than that which 
 makes the eye an arbiter of found. But 
 the poets were in the right, in order to 
 lefTen their own labour, to obtain as great 
 a latitude as poffible for their favourite, 
 rhime ; and as they were in undoubted 
 poffeffion of all words of fimilar founds in 
 fpeech,tho' fpelt differently on paper, they 
 thought they might with equal propriety 
 lay claim to all words that were fpelt on 
 paper as if they founded alike, tho' they 
 appeared very different when fpoken. As 
 this practice is univerfal even amongft our 
 beft rhimers, there is no occafion to fay 
 how much it may puzzle and miflead 
 thofe, who would affift themfelves in ac- 
 quiring a knowlege of our tongue by 
 reading the poets : not to mention the 
 many deviations from the right found 
 
 which
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 297. 
 which may be pointed out in the befl of 
 them, on account of the temptation of 
 an apt word. In which fome have in- 
 dulged themfelves fo loofely, as to give 
 different pronunciations to the fame word 
 in different places, according as it befl 
 ferved the prefent turn. The fame caufe 
 has alfo affected our language not a little 
 in regard to the fenfe, and meaning of 
 words. This will be obvious enough to 
 any one who has fludied our rhimers, and 
 feen with how little ceremony they have 
 made ufe of words which furnimed them 
 with a lucky rhime, tho' at the expenc 
 of precifion. And this may perhaps be 
 one of the chief fources of the very vague 
 fignifications of our words. 
 
 Thus has rhime proved the greatefl 
 enemy to our language in all it's effential 
 as well as ornamental qualities, and in pro- 
 portion as the power and influence of that 
 increafed, thofe of found, harmony, num- 
 bers, expreffion, energy, clearnefs, and 
 precifion, have been diminimed. And 
 tho' the general opinion be, that the re- 
 finement of our language may be dated 
 from the time that the refinement com- 
 3 menced 
 
 *
 
 298 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 menced in rhime, in the days of Dryden, 
 &c. yet this may eafily be fhewn to be 
 originally an error in judgement founded 
 on falfe appearances, fince ftrengthened 
 by time, and cuftom j and that our lan- 
 guage, inftead of a progreffive motion to- 
 wards perfection, which it has been judg- 
 ed to have had by incautious fpedators, 
 has really been defcribing a circular one, 
 and conftantly, tho' imperceptibly, bend- 
 ing towards the point of it's original bar- 
 barity from which it fet out. 
 
 That our language, in point of found, 
 has been continually relapfing into it's firil 
 ftate of barbarifm, ever fince the innova- 
 tions made in it by means of the prevail- 
 ing fpirit of rhiming, may be feen by 
 comparing it's prefent with it's original 
 condition in that refpect. The great de- 
 fects of our tongue, in it's rude primary 
 ftate, were, that it was chiefly compofed 
 of monofyllables, and thofe made up of 
 ill chofen confonants, linked together by 
 as few vowels as poflible. This fault it 
 had in common with all other tongues, 
 previous to their ftate of cultivation and re- 
 ftnement, but more particularly thofe 
 
 fpoken
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 299 
 fpoken by the northern nations, the rough- 
 jiefs of whofe natures and manners feem 
 to have communicated an harfhnefs to 
 their fpeech. When by conquejt, Com- 
 merce, the introduction of litera of 
 the arts and fciences, our language became 
 firft enriched with numbers of words 
 borrowed from other tongues, or el;.e new 
 coined, it was only rendered more copious, 
 and fit for ufe, but received little or no 
 benefit in point of found or harmony. For 
 the new, and adopted words, were obliged 
 to conform to the genius -of the natives, 
 and upon their admiffion were ftripped of 
 their ornamental vowels, and many of 
 their better founding confonants were 
 changed for thofe of arougher kind, which 
 were more in ufe, and familiar to the ear. 
 They were all reduced to one or to as few 
 fyllabies as poffible, by cutting off their 
 initial vowels or their terminations. Thus 
 out of expendot was made fpend> exira- 
 nem ft range, debit urn debt> diwito doubt ; , 
 clericus clerk , and fpiritmjprigbt* I: the 
 plural of this laft word, Jprights, it is 
 worth obferving that there are fcvtn con- 
 fonants crammed into a fyllabie with only 
 
 one
 
 300 BRITISH BOOK IF. 
 one vowel, and that from a word of three 
 fyllables with three vowels. Our firft 
 poets found it impoflible to produce any 
 thing harmonious out of fuch difcordant 
 materials, and were therefore obliged to 
 content themfelves with the fingle and 
 poor ornament of rhime. Thofe who fuc- 
 ceeded them, endeavoured all they could 
 to remedy the defefts in our language, 
 and make it capable of numbers, by add- 
 ing length to words, and increafing 
 the number of vowels. This was begun 
 by Sir John Gower, and afterwards carried 
 to a great height by his difciple Chaucer. 
 Tho' the language had not as yet arrived 
 at fufficient perfection, to admit of difcard- 
 ing rhime entirely, and relying wholly 
 upon numbers, yet by keeping rhime in 
 it's proper fubordinate ftate, it was daily 
 tending towards it. For in the days of 
 Chaucer, rhime was confidered in it's true 
 light, as the loweft part of poetry. Neither 
 found nor meaning were ever facrificed to 
 it ; whenever their interefts became in- 
 compatible, rhime was always obliged to 
 give way ; it was thought a lefs evil to 
 have an indifferenr or bad rhime, than to 
 
 maim
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 301 
 
 maim or perplex the fenfe or pronuncia- 
 tion. No words were contracted, no 
 vowels thrown out of fyllables in order to 
 make room for that ; on the contrary, they 
 fixed initial, and added final vowels as 
 often as poffible. The terminating e was 
 always founded. The verbs in general 
 were lengthened, by the addition of eth 
 and ed in their variations, and many of 
 the nouns as well as verbs by en in the 
 third perfon, as affuagen for ajjuages. 
 But all thefe ileps towards rendering our 
 language completely fit for numbers and 
 meafure, were defeated by fome who af- 
 terwards arofe, and who have very im- 
 properly been called the refiners of our 
 tongue, when in fa<ft they have been the 
 chief corrupters of it. A few who were 
 poflefTed of a happy facility in rhiming, 
 by that pleafing knack, fo levelled to 
 the capacities of all people, debauched 
 the tafte of the nation, and of courfe 
 gave rhime the firft place in poetry. This 
 ufurper, like all others, exercifed it's 
 power in a tyrannical manner, and the 
 whole language was made fubfervient to 
 it's will. Then it was that our vowels were
 
 302 BRITISH BOOK IL 
 again difcarded according to the old bar- 
 barous rule, and the confonants huddled 
 together. Then it was that the initial 
 and terminating fyllables were lopped, 
 and monofyllables once again multiplied. 
 The final e became mute, eth was chang- 
 ed into the hifling s, and ed was ftripp'd 
 of it's vowel j with numberlefs other 
 corruptions, which it would be needlefs 
 to repeat. And all this with no other 
 view in the world, but to increafe the 
 number of rhimes. Had they made ufe 
 of this as a poetical licence only in the aft 
 of rhiming, the confutation of our lan- 
 guage could not have been impaired by it. 
 But the poets knew too well, that if words 
 were written or pronounced differently at 
 the end of line^ from what they were in 
 other places, rhime would have but a pre- 
 carious tenure, and would foon be dif- 
 lodged. They therefore abbreviated their 
 words in the fame manner in all parts of 
 the verfe, and not contented with this, 
 they introduced the fame cuftoms into 
 profe too. Thus the evil has irretrievably 
 been fpread thro' the whole fubftance as 
 well as form of our language. Whoever 
 
 will
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 303 
 will take the trouble only to caft his eye 
 over a few pages of Chaucer, and compare 
 them with thofe of any modern poet, will 
 foon difcover, by the number of apo- 
 flrophes in the latter, that the proportion 
 of vowels to confonants was infinitely 
 greater in his days than at prefent,and that 
 confequently the words of our language 
 were better conftituted at that time to 
 give pleafure to the ear in point of founcj. 
 All thefe corruptions of our language 
 will, upon the leaft reflection, evidently ap- 
 pear to have been owing to the neglect of 
 the ftudy of oratory. For had the art of 
 fpeaking been made a neceflary branch 
 of education, (which it certainly mould 
 have been for many important reafons at 
 the time of the reformation) our language 
 would very foon, like the Roman, have 
 been fixed upon ftated invariable rules. 
 The care of it in regard to found and pro- 
 nunciation would then have belonged to 
 their natural guardians, the publick fpeak- 
 crs, who were more interested in the pro- 
 per fupport of thofe, as they addrefled 
 their words only to the ear ; nor would 
 they have fuffered this province to have 
 i been
 
 304 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 been ufurped by the poets, whofe works 
 are chiefly fubmitted to the eye. The 
 poets muft in that cafe have taken their 
 flandard of found and pronunciation from 
 the orators, who certainly had the beft 
 right to fix it ; whereas, by means of this 
 neglect, our fpeakers have been obliged 
 to follow the poets in all their capricious 
 changes of pronunciation, and in the Go- 
 thick founds again reftored by them, thro' 
 the vile amputation of fyllables, and ba- 
 nimment of vowels, in order to bring 
 down our words to their bafe ftandard. 
 Had the art of reading and fpeaking well 
 been ftudied by all who applied themfelves 
 to literature, people in general would have 
 had fome rational principles, and flated 
 rules to guide them in thofe points, and 
 would therefore never have fuffered 
 fuch abfurd and pernicious innovations to 
 have taken place. But as they had nei- 
 ther precept, nor example, they were of 
 courfe without either judgement, or tafte ; 
 and confequently were admirably fitted to 
 follow with a blind zeal fuch writers as 
 were moft pleafing to them, or mod fa- 
 fhionable. This prevailing ignorance, 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 305 
 
 and want of tafte, obliged the poets alib 
 to adapt their meafure to the capacities of 
 their readers. For there can be no doubt, 
 had knowlege and a good tafte been more 
 general, but that all who were pofTefTed 
 of real genius, would have applied them- 
 felves to the cultivation of numbers and 
 meafure only, and left rhime to the pre- 
 tenders, and thofe of low capacities. But 
 to what purpofe was it to be at great 
 pains and coft to collect pearls in order to 
 throw them before fwine ? Numbers, ca- 
 dence, and harmony in meafure, can no 
 more be perceived by perfons who can not 
 read with propriety and grace, than the 
 charms of a mufical compofition can be 
 known from a view of the notes by one 
 who is not acquainted with their powers. 
 There are few ears indeed fo dull that 
 can not perceive rhime ; and this it was 
 which made it of fuch general ufe amongft 
 all who wiflied to have many readers, 
 all who wrote either with a view to profit, 
 or prefent reputation. Let me endeavour 
 to fet this whole matter in a clear light. 
 Every one who is acquainted with Latin 
 poetry muft be convinced, that it is im- 
 X poffible
 
 306 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 poflible to know any thing of the cadence 
 of their verfes, without a knowlege of pro- 
 fody. For as their various forts of metre 
 were compofed of different kinds of feet, 
 formed out of different combinations of 
 long and fhort fyllables, from which re- 
 fulted the rhythmus, or cadence, it was 
 impoffible to perceive the one, without 
 knowing the other. But the quantity be- 
 ing once determined, and the particular 
 movements or feet known out of which 
 the verfe was compofed, whether hero- 
 ick, faphick, alcaick, &c. the cadence 
 became immediately perceptible even to 
 the dulleft ear, on account of the fimpli- 
 city of their meafures, which hardly "ever 
 admitted more than two movements, or 
 feet, in any particular kind. For inftance, 
 their heroick meafure admitted only of 
 the dadtyl and fpondee. Thus, as the 
 abbe Du Bos has juftly remarked, f The 
 ' obferving of the rules of Latin poetry is 
 ' a neceffary caufe of numbers in verfes 
 
 * compofed according to the rules of this 
 ' poetry. The fucceffion of fhort and 
 
 * long fyllables varioufly mixed purfuant 
 ' to the proportion prefcribed by art, pro- 
 
 * duces
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 307 
 e duces always in Latin fuch a cadence as 
 * the kind of verfe requires *.' Now if 
 we compare our heroick meafure with 
 theirs in this refpect, it will evidently ap- 
 pear that it is much more difficult to per- 
 ceive the cadence, or rhythmus, of th 
 Englim, than of the Latin verfe. For if 
 what I have before advanced be true, 
 which can certainly be proved, that the 
 Englim heroick meafure will admit of 
 feven movements, inftead of their two ; 
 of all the various kinds of feet which were 
 ufed in all their different forts of meafure, 
 it will neceflarily follow, that it will re- 
 quire rather a more accurate knowlege of 
 profody, and more application and prac- 
 tice, to read or repeat Englim verfes with 
 propriety and grace, than the Latin. This 
 will be fufficiently illuftrated by conlider- 
 ing how eafy it is to beat time to any 
 iimple uniform movement that is gene- 
 rally known, fuch as that of a minuet, 
 in comparifon of the more complicated, 
 and varied concertos. And, to carry on 
 the aliufion, it will require no great ikill 
 or pains to learn to play or fing tunes 
 
 * Vol.i. ch. 35. 
 
 X 2 whofe
 
 3 o8 B R 1 r I S IT BOOK II. 
 whofe equal and fimilar parts form an 
 eafy modulation, but to play or fing at 
 fight thofe whofe harmony is the refult 
 of diverfity and inequality in their mem- 
 bers, will demand a complete knowlege 
 of the art, as well as much practice. 
 When therefore we reflect, that notwith- 
 ftanding the great eafe and certainty with 
 which the art of reading and repeating 
 their poems might be acquired, the Ro- 
 mans took uncommon pains to arrive at 
 the utmoft accuracy in that refpect j that 
 to the knowlege of the rules conftant 
 practice was added; that they had perfons 
 regularly trained to be able to perform it 
 with exactnefs and grace, as much as our 
 fingers now are in mufick ; and that the 
 reciting fine paflages out of Virgil and 
 their other excellent poets, was a chief 
 part of their entertainment, in the fame 
 manner as the finging felect airs of Han- 
 del, or playing favourite folos of Gemini- 
 ani, are with us; we need no longer won- 
 der that {kill and good tafte in point of 
 numbers fo generally prevailed amongft 
 them. And for reafons quite contrary, 
 we can not be at v a lofs to know the caufe 
 
 of
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 309 
 
 of the total ignorance, and univerfal bad 
 tafte, in that refpeft, amongft us. We 
 neither know any thing of profody, nor 
 have any rules as yet fettled in regard to 
 it. The quantity of our fyllables is ftill 
 vague, and undetermined. There are no 
 perfons trained to the art of reading well, 
 nor have we ever an opportunity of hearing 
 any of our poems fkilfully and gracefully 
 recited. All this will appear the more 
 extraordinary, when it is confidered how 
 much more neceflary fuch attention and 
 pains are to us, than they were to them. 
 For, as it has been before obferved, a 
 knowlege of quantity alone, which muft 
 have been habitually acquired in a country 
 where the fpeech was fo regulated, and 
 exactly fpoken, and indeed, as Cicero has 
 informed us, was pofTeflTed by the meaneft 
 of the people, was fufficient to make them 
 perceive the cadence of their feveral mea- 
 fures, and to repeat them with propriety, 
 tho' not with grace. But there are more 
 ingredients go to the compofition of Eng- 
 lirh numbers, which as often depend upon 
 the fenfe and meaning of the words, as 
 upon the found and quantity of their fyl- 
 X 3 lables.
 
 3 io BRITISH BOOK II. 
 tables. Accent and emphafis are not here 
 always confined to their diftinct provinces, 
 inafmuch as accent often determines the 
 fenfe, and emphafis the found of words. 
 Quantity with us is not always afcertained 
 by the mere value of fyllables confidered 
 as fimple founds, fince it is in the power 
 of emphafis to alter their quality, and to 
 change a fyllable, (hort in it's own nature, 
 into a long one. So that no one can pre- 
 tend to read harmonioufly, who can not 
 alfo read fenfibly. This was otherwife 
 amongft the Romans j for the quantity of 
 fyllables being immutably fixed, a certain 
 proportion of the long and fhort, ranged 
 according to ftated rules, were a neceflary 
 caufe of numbers in their verfes, whether 
 they were read fenfibly or not. It is true, 
 that this has greatly increafed the diffi- 
 culty of reading our poetical compofitions 
 with harmony and propriety, nor can it 
 indeed, on that account, be well done, 
 without firft fludying them j yet the ex- 
 traordinary labour would be well reward- 
 ed, by the additional exprefTion, energy, 
 and variety, which this very circumftance 
 has given to our numbers. 
 
 When
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 311 
 
 When therefore it is confidered, that 
 in order to perceive the harmony, as well 
 as force, of Englifh numbers, a perfon 
 muft not only know how to give the 
 proper accent to each word, and the exact 
 degree of length and fhortnefs to each 
 fyllable, but he muft likewife be always 
 able to lay the emphafis right, and in it's 
 due proportion, as any variation in that 
 will make a change alfo in the metre j it 
 muft be evident that this {kill can be ob- 
 tained only by a complete knowlege of 
 the art of reading, and fpeaking with pro- 
 priety: and this art, which perhaps is 
 more difficult than any other, can only be 
 acquired as the reft are, by ftudy, precept, 
 and example. Since therefore the people 
 of this country have never applied them- 
 felves to the ftudy of this art, nor have 
 ever been furniihed with precepts or ex- 
 amples, it muft neceflarily follow, that 
 a general ignorance in that refpedl has al- 
 ways prevailed here. The confequence 
 of which general ignorance was, that the 
 poets were of courfe obliged to bring down 
 their verfes to the capacity of their read- 
 ers, and to write only in fuch meafures as 
 X 4 might
 
 3 i2 BRiriSH BOOK II. 
 might be moft obvious, and in fuch num- 
 bers as might be moil eafily diftinguimed 
 by an uncultivated ear. Hence it came 
 to pafs, that rhime, which could be uni- 
 verfally perceived by all readers, became 
 univerfally ufed by the poets j and our 
 hcroick meafure, which was capable of 
 an almoft endlefs variety, was in general 
 reduced to one uniform lambick move- 
 ment, which of all others is the moft 
 eafily perceived, as it requires only a reft 
 of the voice on every fecond fyllable. To 
 mew this neceffity brought upon our poets 
 in it's true light, it will be proper to take 
 notice that their works were never pub- 
 lickly recited, as thofe of the Romans 
 were, amongft whom fkilful readers train- 
 ed to the purpofe, could fet off the variety 
 of their numbers, by fuitably varied tones j 
 but were only to be privately read by each 
 individual, utterly unftudied, and un- 
 billed in that art. It was impoffible that 
 fach readers could perceive the harmony 
 of numbers refulting from the various 
 combinations of different feet, tho' they 
 might eafily enough become matters of a 
 fimple modulation made by a fuccem" ve re- 
 petition
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 313 
 
 petition of one regular movement. As the 
 lambick foot is by far the moft pleating of 
 thofe out of which a verfe can be formed 
 without the admimon of any other, and 
 as it is the only one which in the Englifh 
 heroick could anfwer that end, it of courfe 
 came to be moft generally ufed. By this 
 general ufe, the hearer became fo habitu- 
 ated to the found, that it was made the 
 common ftandard of meafurement, and 
 the admimon of any other feet into the 
 verfe, would found like difcord to ears 
 formed to that particular cadence. Thus 
 the ignorance of readers gave bounds to 
 the {kill of the poet, as the ikili of the 
 poet could not be perceived by, and con- 
 fequently could have no influence over, 
 the ignorance of readers. All that was 
 left to the writers in this cafe, was to take 
 advantage of this general want of know- 
 lege, and turn it to their own account, by 
 making it the means of leilening their own 
 labour, and of giving pleafure with as lit- 
 tle expence of time and pains as pomble. 
 And thefe ends were effectually anfwered 
 by conforming to the prevailing bad tafte. 
 For, as it was before obferved, there can 
 
 be
 
 314 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 be no doubt but that it is infinitely lefa 
 difficult to rhime completely,than to com- 
 pofe numerous and harmonious verfes. To 
 which it may be added, that it will re- 
 quire much lefs labour to proceed in one 
 regular uniform movement, which is ren- 
 dered eafy by a little practice, than to be 
 perpetually employed in finding out and 
 chufing fuch combinations of various feet 
 as will produce the fined harmony, and 
 give the greateft force of exprefiion, to 
 each particular thought. 
 
 Here it may be faid, that the poets by 
 conforming to thefe rules, muft be defeat- 
 ed in their end of giving pleafure, as fuch 
 a vicious uniformity of cadence, and fuch 
 a perpetual jingle at the end of each dif- 
 tich, mufl in any long work occafion fa- 
 tiety and difgult to the ear. But againft 
 this the writers had a twofold barrier. 
 For in the firft place, their compofitions 
 being read only in the clofet, are hardly 
 ever pronounced aloud, and the eye can 
 not be at all affected by looking over a 
 perpetual fuccefllon of the fame fort of 
 movements, tho' the ear would be hurt 
 by hearing them founded. And one thing 
 
 has
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 315 
 
 has contributed to occafion a general de- 
 lufion in this refpect, which is, that moft 
 readers felect a few (liming pafTages out of 
 a favourite author, which they get by 
 heart, and repeat aloud j and thefe being 
 compofed of feet which form a very agree- 
 able cadence, as well as fuch a one as is 
 pronounced with eafe, will for fo much 
 give great delight and fatisfaction. And 
 the reader is apt to form a judgement of 
 the whole poem by thefe fpecimens. 
 Whereas were the whole to be recited, 
 he would foon be convinced how much 
 he had erred. He would then feel, that 
 nothing can be fo difagreeable to the ear 
 as a conftant uniformity of cadence, and 
 the more fmooth and flowing the num- 
 bers are, the more likely are they to occa- 
 fion difguft, by any long fuccefiive repe- 
 tition. Sweetnefs of found being in this 
 refpect to the ear, what that of tafte is to 
 the palate .- If the admirers even of Pope 
 
 $ This point can not be more clearly proved than by 
 confidering, that even in mufick, a continued and unvaried 
 ftrain of modulation will occafion fatiety, and grow irk- 
 fome to the ear, and that it is only by a judicious mixture 
 of diicords with concords that an agreeable harmony can 
 b formed. 
 
 want
 
 3 i6 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 want to be convinced of this truth by ex- 
 perience, far more prevailing than argu- 
 ments, let them only allot two or three 
 hours of a morning to the reading aloud 
 fuch of his pieces as are in the higheit re- 
 putation for numbers, and their tafte mufl 
 be much corrupted indeed, if they do not 
 find great wearinefs and fatiety, before 
 half the time be pafTed. Thus the defedts 
 in their meafure became fecure of difco- 
 very, by being generally fubmitted to a 
 fenfe which could not judge of it j and 
 rhime was eftablimed by the ftrong power 
 of cuftom, which has made it be confi- 
 dered as an efTential and mining ornament 
 of our poetry. So that whilft there are 
 more readers who can perceive the ca- 
 dence of a fimple modulation, and the 
 jingle of fimilar founds, than can diftin- 
 guim the harmony refulting from the va- 
 ried combinations of different movements, 
 fuch as have built their poems on the 
 former rules, will never want a fufficient 
 number of admirers. 
 
 But in order to make a more fecure 
 
 barrier to their ill-founded eibblimment, 
 
 left people fliould open their eyes, and 
 
 i fee
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 317 
 fee their error, the poets have contrived to 
 miflead their judgement, by laying down 
 a falfe rule, which muft for ever keep 
 them at a diftance from all knowlege of 
 numbers : that is, that an Englifh heroick 
 verfe is compofed of ten femipeds, or fyl- 
 lables. A rule fo contrary to common 
 fenfe, to experience, and which has been 
 productive of fuch mifchief to our lan- 
 guage by multiplying unneceflary abbre- 
 viations, that it is wonderful how it ever 
 obtained. To talk of meafure made up 
 of femipeds, is like talking of tunes com- 
 pofed out of halftones. If the rule be 
 juft that ten fyllables will make a verfe, 
 ten fhort ones will anfwer the end as well 
 as ten long. Now as a long fy liable takes 
 double the time of pronouncing that a mort 
 one does, it will follow, that one line may 
 be of double the length to the ear that 
 another is ; and what a ftrange inequality 
 as well as irregularity, when we come to 
 confider in what various proportions this 
 may be ufed, muft not this introduce in- 
 to our meafure ? Indeed this rule is found- 
 ed upon a principle, neither more nor lefs 
 abfurd, than making the eye fole arbiter 
 
 of
 
 320 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 * compofed. I {hall endeavour now to 
 
 * prove, that the obferving of the rules of 
 
 * French poetry, is productive of neither of 
 
 * thofe effects ; that is, that French verfes 
 ' exactly conformable to thofe rules, may 
 ' be deftitute of numbers and harmony in 
 c the pronunciation. 
 
 c The rules of French poetry deter- 
 
 * mine only the arithmetical number of 
 
 * fyllables, whereof the verfes are to con- 
 ' fift. They decide nothing with regard 
 1 to the quantity that is in poetry, with 
 refpect to the length and brevity of thofe 
 fyllables. But as the fyllables in French 
 
 * words are fometimes long and fometimes 
 e mort in the pronunciation, there are fe- 
 c veral inconveniencies arifing from the 
 c lilence of our rules with refpect to their 
 
 * combination. In the firft place it hap- 
 
 * pens, that feveral French verfes, which 
 c have nothing to be reproached with in 
 
 * point of rules, contain neverthelefs too 
 ( long a fucceffion of fhorter or longer fyl- 
 1 lables. Now the too great length of 
 4 this fucceffion obftructs the numbers in 
 4 the pronunciation of the verfes. 
 
 4 The rhythmus or cadence of a verfe, 
 
 * confifts
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 321 
 
 c confifts in the alternative of long and 
 
 * fhort fyllables varied according to a par- 
 c ticular proportion. Too great a number 
 
 * of long fyllables ranged fucceflively one 
 { after another, retards the progreffion of 
 ' the verfe in the pronunciation. Too 
 
 * great a number of mort fyllables fuc- 
 f ceeding one another immediately, ren- 
 ' ders it difagreeably precipitant. 
 
 ' Secondly, it falls out frequently, that 
 c when we have a mind to examine two 
 ' Alexandrine French verfes connected 
 c together by the fame rhime, with re- 
 ' gard to the time in pronouncing each 
 
 * verfe, we find an enormous difference 
 1 between the length of thefe verfes, tho* 
 
 * they are both compofed according to 
 c the rules. Let ten fyllables out of twelve^ 
 
 * which compofe a mafculine verfe, be 
 ' long ; and let ten fyllables of the follow- 
 ' ing verfe be fhort j thefe verfes 3 which 
 
 * will appear equal on paper, will be of 
 c a furprifing inequality in the pronun- 
 
 * ciation. Wherefore thefe verfes, not- 
 
 * withstanding their being allied to one 
 
 * another, and anfwering by one com 
 
 ' mon rhime, will lofe neverthelefs all the 
 
 * cadence which might arife from the 
 
 Y c equality
 
 322 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 * equality of their meafure. Now 'tis not 
 ' the eye, but the ear, which judges of 
 ' the cadence of verfes. 
 
 ' This inconvenience does not, as I have 
 ' already obferved, attend fuch as write 
 4 Latin verfes, by reafon that the rules pre- 
 c vent it. The arithmetical number of 
 c fyllables which conftitutes each kind of 
 ' Latin verfe, is determined with regard 
 ' to the length or brevity of thefe fyl- 
 
 * lables. Thefe rules, which were made 
 
 * from obferving the fuitable proportion 
 
 * in each kind of verfe between the arith- 
 .' metical number, and the quantity of 
 ' fyllables, decide in the firft place, that 
 
 * in the particular feet of a verfe we ought 
 1 to put fyllables of a certain quantity. 
 ' Secondly, when thefe rules leave the 
 ' poet at liberty to employ long or fhort 
 
 * fyllables in a particular part of the verfe, 
 1 they direct him, in cafe he chufes to 
 
 * ufe long fyllables, to employ then a 
 
 * lefler number of fyllables. If the poet 
 ' determines in favour of fhort fyllables, 
 
 * he is ordered by the rules to ufe a greater 
 
 * number. Now as the pronouncing of a 
 
 * long fyllable continues double the fpace 
 c of time that a Hiort one does, all the La- 
 
 ' tin
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 323 
 
 1 tin hexameters are confequently of the 
 " c fame length in the pronunciation, tho' 
 * fome contain a greater number of fyl- 
 
 * lables than others. The quantity of fyl- 
 e lables is always compenfated by their 
 
 * arithmetical number. 
 
 * Hence the Latin hexameters are al- 
 
 * ways equal in the pronunciation, not- 
 c withftanding the variety of their pro- 
 c greffion ; whereas our Alexandrine verfes 
 
 * are frequently unequal, tho' they have 
 
 * almoft conftantly an uniformity of pro- 
 4 greffion. Hence fome criticks have been 
 * of opinion, that it was almofl impoffible 
 f to write a French epick poem of ten 
 * thoufand verfes with any fuccefs. True 
 
 * it is, that this uniformity of the rhythmus 
 
 * has not obftrufted the fuccefs of our 
 
 * dramatick poems in France and foreign. 
 ' countries j but thofe poems which do 
 ' not exceed two thoufand verfes have 
 
 * fufficient excellencies to fuftain them, 
 
 * notwithftanding the fatiety of the like- 
 
 * nefs of their numbers. Befides it is lefs 
 * obferved on the ftage, where thefe forts 
 ' of pieces appear with greateft luftre, by 
 ' reafon that the aftors, before they fetch 
 
 Y 2 * their
 
 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 * equality of their meafure. Now 'tis not 
 ' the eye, but the ear, which judges of 
 
 * the cadence of verfes. 
 
 * This inconvenience does not, as I have 
 
 * already obferved, attend fuch as write 
 
 * Latin verfes, by reafon that the rules pre- 
 ' vent it. The arithmetical number of 
 ' fyllables which conftitutes each kind of 
 ' Latin verfe, is determined with regard 
 
 * to the length or brevity of thefe fyl- 
 ' lables. Thefe rules, which were made 
 
 * from obierving the fuitable proportion 
 
 * in each kind of verfe between the arith- 
 
 * metical number, and the quantity of 
 ' fyllables, decide in the firft place, that 
 
 * in the particular feet of a verfe we ought 
 
 * to put fyllables of a certain quantity. 
 
 * Secondly, when thefe rules leave the 
 ' poet at liberty to employ long or fhort 
 
 * fyllables in a particular part of the verfe, 
 
 * they direcl: him, in cafe he chufes to 
 ' ufe long fyllables, to employ then a 
 
 * lefTer number of fyllables. If the poet 
 
 * determines in favour of fhort fyllables, 
 
 * he is ordered by the rules to ufe a greater 
 ' number. Now as the pronouncing of a 
 
 * long fyllable continues double the fpace 
 1 of time that a fliort one does, all the La- 
 
 ' tin
 
 CHAP. IX. E D U C A T I O N. 3 23 
 
 1 tin hexameters are confequently of the 
 "' fame length in the pronunciation, tho' 
 * fome contain a greater number of fyl- 
 
 * lables than others. The quantity of fyl- 
 c lables is always compenfated by their 
 
 * arithmetical number. 
 
 * Hence the Latin hexameters are al- 
 
 * ways equal in the pronunciation, not- 
 c withflanding the variety of their pro- 
 c greffion ; whereas our Alexandrine verfes 
 ' are frequently unequal, tho' they have 
 ' almoft conftantly an uniformity of pro- 
 
 * greffion. Hence fome criticks have been 
 
 * of opinion, that it was almofl impoffiblo 
 
 * to write a French epick poem of ten 
 ' thoufand verfes with any fuccefs. True 
 
 * it is, that this uniformity of the rhythmus 
 
 * has not obftrucl;ed the fuccefs of our 
 
 * dramatick poems in France and foreign 
 
 * countries ; but thofe poems which do 
 ' not exceed two thoufand verfes have 
 
 * fufficient excellencies to fuflain them, 
 
 * notwithftanding the fatiety of the like- 
 * nefs of their numbers. Betides it is lefs 
 * obferved on the flage, where thefe forts 
 ' of pieces appear with greateft luftre, by 
 ' reafon that the a&ors, before they fetch 
 
 Y 2 c their
 
 324 B R I T I S H BOOK II. 
 
 * their breath, run one verfe into another, 
 c or elfe fetch it before they have finifhed 
 c the verfe, to prevent our being fo fen- 
 
 * fible of the vitious uniformity of it's 
 1 cadence. 
 
 c What has been here faid with refped: 
 
 * to hexameters, may be equally applied to 
 ' any other kind of verfe. Thofe which 
 c run precipitately by reafon of their be- 
 ' ing compofed of fhort fyllables, laft there- 
 c fore as long as fuch as go a very flow 
 ' pace, becaufe of their being compofed 
 
 * of long fyllables. For example, Virgil 
 ' ufes fhort fyllables as much as the rules 
 ' of metre permitted him in that verfe, in 
 ' which he draws fo complete a picture 
 ' of a courfer in full gallop, that the very 
 c found of the verfe makes us imagine we 
 ' hear the noife of his motion. 
 
 * Quadrupedanteputremfonituquatit un- 
 
 1 gula campum. 
 
 ' This verfe contains feventeen fyllables, 
 ' but it does not continue longer in the 
 
 * pronunciation than the following verfe 
 
 * of thirteen, in which Virgil defcribes the 
 c Cyclops at work, and lifdng up their 
 ' arms to ftrike the hammers on the an- 
 
 \ vil,
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 325 
 
 ' vil, an effect which is well reprefented 
 c in the cadence of the verfe. 
 
 ' Olli inter fe multa vj brachia tollunt. 
 
 ' Thus the cadence of verfe is not at 
 c all interrupted by ufing a greater num- 
 c her of fhort or long fyllables, in order 
 c to give a better defcription of the object.' 
 
 From what is here faid it is evident, 
 that the rules of French poetry neither 
 produced equality of meafure, nor variety 
 of numbers, which are the only fources 
 of harmony in verfe. The writers there- 
 fore endeavoured to conceal the want of 
 equality in meafure, by an uniformity of 
 cadence, and to compenfate for the want 
 of variety of numbers, by rhime. How 
 poor a fuccedaneum thefe were, muft be 
 known to every reader of tafte. The in- 
 genuous criticks of France, far from boaft- 
 ing of their poetry, have acknowleged it's 
 defects, and lamented the poverty of their 
 language, which would admit of no other 
 ornaments than what were prejudicial to 
 it in it's moft effential points. This is 
 flrongly fet forth by Du Bos, where he 
 confiders the difficulties brought upon a 
 French poet by being under the double 
 Y 3 reftraint,
 
 326 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 reftraint, of following the natural order of 
 words, and of rhiming. As to the firft, 
 he obferves, c That a Latin writer may 
 
 * eafily avoid any difagreeable collifion of 
 
 * founds by the help of tranfpofition ; 
 r whereas it is very rare that one can get 
 
 * rid of this difficulty in French by means 
 
 * of fuch an expedient. There is very 
 ' feldorn any other refource left but that 
 
 * of altering the word which interrupts 
 ' the harmony of the phrafe, or elfe to 
 c make the latter fall a victim to the for- 
 ' mer. Nothing is more difficult than to 
 ' preferve the refpective rights of fenfe 
 ' and harmony, when we write in French j 
 ' fo great is the claming of their feveral 
 ' interefts.' 
 
 In another place where he considers the 
 effect of this reftraint, added to that of 
 rhime, he fays, ' That rhime alone be- 
 
 * comes, thro' the fubjection of the French 
 ' phrafe to the natural order of words, 
 
 * as checking a reftraint for an ingenious 
 *" poet, as all the rules of Latin poetry. 
 4 In effect, we feldom obferve, even in 
 1 the moft indifferent Latin poets, thofe 
 f idle epithets that are employed as mere 
 
 * expletives
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 327 
 
 c expletives to fill up the verfe $ but what 
 
 * numbers of them do not we meet with, 
 
 * even in our beft poems, introduced by 
 c the fole neceflity of rhiming ? Without 
 
 * enlarging any farther on this article of 
 ( the difficulty of rhiming, the reader 
 
 * will give me leave to refer him to Boi- 
 ' leau's epiftle to Lewis the fourteenth on 
 c the paflage of the Rhine j as alfo to the 
 
 * epiftle written by the fame poet to Mo- 
 
 * Here. There he will fee better than I 
 
 * can tell him, that if rhime be a Have 
 ' whofe duty it is to obey, yet it cofts a 
 
 * great deal to reduce this Have to a pro- 
 ' per ftate of fubjection?' 
 
 Rollin has treated of this matter only 
 fuperficially, and has not, like Du Bos, 
 dived to the bottom. Nor has he confi- 
 dered it with the fame candour, and impar- 
 tiality, but has fhewn evident marks of pre- 
 porTeffion in favour of the French tongue. 
 He fays, * < The different taftes of dif- 
 
 * ferent nations in point of verification, 
 
 * has fomething in it veryfurprifing. What 
 
 * in one language is extremely agreeable, 
 c in another is infipid, and the mark of a 
 
 * Belles let. vol. i, b. H. ch. 2. 
 
 Y 4
 
 328 'BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 ' bad tafte ; rhimes for inftance, which 
 
 * have fo good an effecl: in modern 
 ' poetry, and ftrike fo agreeably upon the 
 
 * ear in French, Italian, Spanifh, and High- 
 ' Dutch,, are (hocking in Greek and Lat- 
 ' tin j and in like manner the meafure of 
 ' the Greek and Latin verfes, which de- 
 
 * pend upon the quantity of fyllables, would 
 ' have no grace in our modern poetry. 
 
 ' There is one thing in this diverfity of 
 ' tafte, which very much puzzles me, 
 ' and that is, why rhimes, which pleafc 
 ' fo much in one language, mould be fo 
 ' mocking in another. Can this difference 
 ' arife from habit and cuftom, or is it de- 
 
 * rived from the nature of languages ? 
 
 ' The French poetry (and the fame 
 ( may be faid of all the modern languages) 
 c abfolutely wants the delicate and haraoi 
 
 * monious variety of feet, which gives 
 ' numbers, frrioothnefs, and grace, to the 
 1 Greek and Latin verfification, and is 
 c forced to be content with the uniform 
 
 * joining together of a certain number of 
 
 * fyllables of equal meafure in the compo- 
 c fition of it's verfes. To arrive therefore 
 
 * at it's proper end, -which is pleafing the . 
 
 ' car,
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 329 
 
 ' ear, it is under a neceffity of feeking out 
 ' for other graces and charms, and fup- 
 c plying what is wanting, by the exadt- 
 nefs, cadence, and plenty of rhimes, 
 ' which make up the principal beauty 
 
 * of the French verfification.' 
 
 Yet tho' he has allowed fo much in this 
 place y in another, where he has more par- 
 ticularly enumerated the great advantages 
 which the Greek and Roman languages 
 have over the French in other refpects, 
 he concludes with this extraordinary quef- 
 tion, * And yet notwitftanding all thefe 
 ' feeming impediments, can it be per- 
 
 * ceived from the writings of good authors, 
 ' that our language is in any wife defec- 
 c tive, either as to copioufnefs, variety, 
 c harmony, or any other grace ?' A quef- 
 tion which carries with it fuch an appa- 
 rent ftamp of prejudice, that it is aftonifh- 
 ing how it could have dropped from the 
 pen of a writer, in general remarkable for 
 accuracy and penetration. The abfurdity 
 of fuch a method of fettling the point can 
 not be fhewn in a clearer light, than by 
 fuppofing the fame queftion put to a 
 Dutchman Swede, Norwegian, Ruffian, 
 
 or
 
 330 B R I r I S H BOOK II. 
 
 or the native of any country where the lan- 
 guage is in the moft uncultivated ftate; 
 and it will undoubtedly be decided by 
 each of them in favour of their own, from 
 a natural afte&ion to their mother tongue. 
 Nor is this prejudice peculiar to barbarians 
 only, or the offspring of ignorance, for we 
 find even amongft the polimed Greeks, 
 that tho' the Attick idiom was allowed to 
 be the pureft of all others, yet the other 
 Hates of Greece tenaciouily adhered to 
 their refpective dialects, from the infupe- 
 rable force of early impreffions and habit. 
 But whatever neceffity the French and 
 other modern tongues may be under to 
 make ufe of rhime, and the imperfect 
 rule of meafure which they have em- 
 ployed, the Englifh alone, from the very 
 genius and conftitution of the language, 
 need not fubmit to thofe reftraints. On 
 the contrary, from whatever lucky con- 
 currence of circtimftances it hath hap- 
 pened, it may be proved to be fuperior 
 in it's qualities not only to all the modern, 
 but upon the whole to the admired lan- 
 guages of antiquity. Whether it be, that 
 .as in the well-known flory of the paint- 
 3 er's
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 331 
 
 er's fpunge, the accidental blending of 
 the different colours produced a more na- 
 tural foam on the horfe, than the utmoft 
 fkill of the pencil could have drawn, fo 
 the variety of tongues out of which ours 
 has been compofed, has cafually formed 
 one more perfect in it's nature than the 
 utmoft labour or art of men could have 
 contrived ; or from whatever other caufe 
 it may proceed, the fact is certainly fo, 
 that we are pofTefled of one more capable 
 of anfwering all the purpofes of fpeech, 
 whether of ufe or ornament, than any 
 that has hitherto exifled upon earth. 
 The very reafons affigned by the French 
 writers why their language was incapable 
 of meafure or numbers, fhew that ours is 
 capable of both. The chief of which are 
 given by Rollin, when in fpeaking of the 
 Romans, he fays, { They had a thoufand 
 c delicacies in their delivery, which we 
 1 are ftrangers to. They diftinguifhed the 
 c accent from quantity, and knew very 1 
 c well how to raife a fyllable, without 
 ' making it long, which we are not accuf- 
 * tomed to obferve. They had even fe- 
 4 vefal forts of long and fhort vowels, and 
 
 exprefTed
 
 332 SRiriSH BOOK II. 
 
 * rt ^ fyy*) 
 
 ' exprefTed the difference.' Whoever can 
 read Engliih with propriety will fee, that 
 this is the very cafe of our language, tho* 
 thefe beauties are loft to a vitiated ear. 
 This diftin&ion between accent and quan- 
 tity, which Capella calls the very foul of 
 founds, and the foundation of harmony, 
 animam vocum G? mufices feminarlum^ may 
 be conftantly perceived in a juft and cor- 
 rect pronunciation. We too can raife a 
 fyllable without adding to it's length. 
 And as to the long and mort vowels, we 
 have as copious a ufe of them as ever the 
 Romans had, and much more fo, as well 
 as more eafily to be diflinguifhed now, as 
 Latin is pronounced. Every vowel with 
 us is fometimes long, and fometimes mort, 
 and their different quantities are marked 
 by different pronunciations, which is not 
 the cafe of the Latin at prefent, as we can 
 not know the different founds given to 
 them by the antients, according to their 
 quantity, in their fpeech. We have the 
 ufe of the cefura too in as great a latitude 
 as they, fince it may be at the end of any 
 fyllable of an Englim verfe, the laft of 
 courfe excepted. Whereas the cefura^of 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 333 
 the French is ever in the middle of the 
 verfe, which caufes a perpetual famenefs 
 of cadence. So that we are not only pof- 
 feffed of all the fame fources of harmony 
 with the antients, but we have one fuper- 
 added, which is the caufe of a greater va- 
 riety, and more forcible expreffion in num- 
 bers than all the reft, that is, the unlimited 
 power given to the emphafis over quantity, 
 and cadence, by means whereof a necef- 
 fary union between found and fenfe, 
 numbers and meaning in verification, un- 
 known to the antients, has been brought 
 about. From all thefe, together with the 
 very ftmcture of our language, a particu- 
 lar fort of meafure has refulted, capable 
 of fuch a variety of movements, that it can 
 alone fupply the place of mcft of the dif- 
 ferent forts ufed by the antients in their 
 different ftyles of poetry. The Englifli 
 blank verfe is equally well fuited to the 
 heroick, tragick, comick, paftoral, elegi- 
 ack, and didactick ftyles of poetry. Nor 
 is this afTertion founded on theory only 
 and fpeculation, but warranted by practice, 
 and confirmed by proofs. The Paradife 
 loft fufficiently fhews it's fitnefs for he- 
 
 v/iJJ vti.iijli ir 
 
 roick
 
 334 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 roick poetry. In the works of Shake- 
 fpear we may eafily difcOver, that it is 
 the moft proper metre for tragedy ever 
 yet made ufe of: if the rule be well 
 founded (as it undoubtedly is) that the 
 beft meafure for tragick compoutions is 
 that wherein leaft art appears, and which 
 approaches neareil to difcourfe. The 
 fame alfo may be feen in fome'of his co^ 
 medics, of the more grave and * elevated 
 kind, as the Tempeft, Meafure for Mea- 
 fure, &c. In fome of our Englifh paf- 
 torals, notwithstanding it is robbed of it's 
 fimplicity by rhime, we may fee how ad- 
 mirably well it would fuit the nature of 
 that fort of poetry, were it in the hands 
 of .a real genius, who was above wearing 
 fo improper an ornament. Milton's Ly- 
 cidas affords an example of it's elegiack 
 powers j afld the Cyder of Philips, of it's 
 didactic. It may be faid, that the heroick 
 meafure of the afltients was alfo ufed in 
 their paftoral and didactic poetry, as in 
 the eclogues and georgicks of Virgil. But 
 in regard to the former, every reader o 
 tafte muft fee how ill fuited it was to the 
 fubject, and hpw little the majefty pf the 
 
 *Jnterdum tamen & tollit conpdia voceni, Hoj:. ,.
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 335 
 lines agreed with the meannefs of the cha- 
 raclers. The numbers feem rather to be 
 the compofition of ibme poet in an Arca- 
 dian court, than the natural and unculti- 
 vated flrains of fimple rufticks. And in 
 regard to the latter, whoever will com- 
 pare the dida&ic part of the georgicks 
 only, omitting the captivating epifodes, 
 with the poem on cyder by Philips, will 
 foon be convinced of the advantage which 
 the Englim poet had over the Roman in 
 point of the aptitude of his meafure, to his 
 matter. Horace has ufed it too in his 
 fatyrs and epiflles ; but in order to make 
 his verfes, as he himfelf expreffes it, fer- 
 moni propiora^ he in fadt only ufed the 
 feet of heroick meafure, but had little re- 
 gard to the numbers or cadence, on which 
 account they often offend the ear. Where- 
 as nothing is lefs difficult than to preferve 
 a proper degree of eafe and familiarity in 
 writings of that fort, by aneans of Englifli 
 blank verfe, without ever offending againft 
 the rules of harmony. Add to all thefe 
 it's ufe in a new vein of poetry, and per- 
 haps not one of the mofl unpleafant kind, 
 whereof no traces remain in the writing? 
 
 of
 
 336 BRITISH BOOK IL 
 
 of antiquity, the grave burlefque, as in the 
 Splendid (hilling of Philips. This great 
 variety of poetick ftyles which it is capa- 
 ble of fupplying, is a fufficient confirma- 
 tion of what I have advanced before in 
 regard to our blank verfe, that it may be 
 compofed out of almoft all the various feet 
 ufed in all the various kinds of Latin po- 
 etry, fince nothing elfe could make it 
 equally adapted to fo many different fpe- 
 cies of it, in which the Romans were ob- 
 liged to make ufe of different meafures, or 
 to ufe the heroick very improperly in fome 
 of them. If therefore the proportion of 
 movements, or feet, which our heroick 
 meafure admits, be to theirs as feven to 
 two, it neceflarily follows that we have an 
 infinite advantage over them in point of 
 variety and expreffion, and confequently, 
 that ours in all works of length muft be 
 much more pleating. It is therefore better 
 adapted to the two nobleft of all human 
 compofitions, the epick poem, and tra- 
 gedy. 
 
 If it be faid, that fuppofing we have 
 this advantage over them in point of va- 
 riety of numbers, yet their language muft 
 
 ever
 
 CHAP. IX. E D U C AT 1 6 N. 
 
 ever have a fuperionty over ours with re- 
 gard to found, from the happy conftruc- 
 tion of their words : that this muft evi- 
 dently appear by comparing both with the 
 infallible rule laid down by Quindtilian, 
 Ut fyllabcz e litter is melius fonantibus clari- 
 ores flint, it a verb a e fylhbis magis recall a ; 
 G? quo plus quteqite Jpiritus habet^ eo auditu 
 pulchrior * : and that therefore in all 
 lefler compofitions, fuch as odes, and ly- 
 rick poetry, they have a peculiar grace 
 and fweetnefs which we can never arrive 
 at, nor even attempt any thing in that way 
 without the aid of rhiine : my anfwer 185 
 that if their language be compared in this 
 rcfpecl: with ours as it now ftands, we 
 muft undoubtedly yield the preference to 
 them. But this defect in ours does not 
 arife from the genius and conftitution of 
 our language, but from the abufes and 
 corruptions crept into it thro' the want of 
 care and cultivation. Nor was the per- 
 fection of the Roman in this refpect ow- 
 ing to chance, or the original formation 
 of their words, but to the great pains 
 taken to polifh and adorn it. We have 
 
 ' Lib, viii. c, j. 
 
 Z it
 
 338 BRITISH BOOK D. 
 
 it from undoubted authority, that previous 
 to the ftudy of eloquence, their languagfc 
 was in a very bad ftate as to found, an$ 
 their words ill fuited to poetical compo- 
 fitions. Were the fifth part of the la- 
 bour beftowed upon ours which was upoA 
 theirs, we might perhaps rival them even 
 in this refpecl:. Nay, had our language 
 not been induftrioufly fpoiled and mang- 
 led, had not fuch numbers of our vowels 
 been fwallowed up by the monfter rhime, 
 it might without much application or 
 pains not have been inferior to the Latin 
 in that point. For tho' we might be ftill 
 obliged to confefs that their words are 
 compofed of fyllables more vocal, yet ours 
 would have more fpirit; theirs might 
 have more of fweetnefs, but ours of 
 energy ; theirs might be better conftituted 
 to form melodious, but ours to product 
 harmonious combinations. Were the 
 pleating flow of the fyllables to the ear 
 alone fufficient to the perfection of found 
 in a language, the Greek and Roman both 
 muft yield to the modern Italian. But too 
 great attention to fweetnefs will robpoetick 
 numbers of their greatefl beauties, which 
 
 are,
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION, 339 
 are, variety, and expreffion. Were out lan- 
 guage to be ftudied and improved to the 
 pitch of perfection whereof it is capable, 
 it would perhaps appear, that the qualities 
 of found to fit it to all forts of poetical 
 compoiitions, are blended in more lucky 
 proportions than in any other ; and that 
 we have on that account as great an ad- 
 vantage over the antients in point of num- 
 bers, as the invention and improvement 
 of our muiical inftruments have given us 
 with refpect to harmony. But in both 
 cafes we have failed of the end, by an 
 abufe or neglect of the rrueans which alone 
 could give us a fuperiority. The -j- author 
 of a late ingenious treatife on mufical ex- 
 preflion, has laid open the fources of the 
 bad tafte which at prefent prevails with 
 refpect to that art. As the fate of it's fifter 
 poetry feems to be exactly fimilarj and 
 from iimilar caufes, I (hall make ufe of 
 what he has faid with regard to the one, 
 to elucidate what I have advanced with 
 relation to the other. He obferves, * That 
 ' properly .fpeaking, there are but three 
 ' circumftances on which the worth of 
 
 f Avifon's effay, Sec. 
 
 Z 2 'any
 
 340 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 ' any mufical compofition can depend. 
 
 * Thefe are, melody, harmony, andexpref- 
 
 * lion. When thefe three are united in their 
 full excellence, the compofition is then 
 ' perfect : if any of thefe-are wanting or im- 
 ' perfect, the compoliticm is proportionately 
 
 * defective. The chief endeavour therefore 
 ' of the fkilful compofer muft be, to unite 
 
 * all thefe various fources of beauty in every 
 
 * piece ; and never fo far regard or idolize 
 c any one of them, as to defpife and omit 
 ' the other two/ 
 
 Every reader of difcernment will fee at 
 once that this is exactly analogous to the 
 numbers of poetry. He proceeds to iliew 
 the prefent errors and defects in thefe 
 refpects-. 
 
 * The flrft error we (hall note is, where 
 1 the harmony, and confequently the ex- 
 
 * preflion, is neglected for the fake of air, 
 ' or rather anextravagantmodulation. The 
 
 * prefent fafhionable extreme of running 
 ' all our muiick into one lingle part, to 
 ' the utter neglect of all true harmony, is a 
 1 defect much more efTential than the ne- 
 
 * gleet of modulation only, inafmuch as 
 
 * harmony is the very bails of all mufical 
 
 compofition. Is
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 341 
 
 Is not this exactly iimilar to the prac- 
 tice of our poets in making rhime the 
 chief object of their attention, and ufing 
 as much as poflible one uniform move- 
 ment in their verfes, to the great preju- 
 dice of harmony and expreffion ? In ac- 
 counting for the fpreadingof this falfe tafte, 
 he affigns the following, as the chief caufe. 
 
 1 It may perhaps be affirmed with truth, 
 c that the falfe tafte, or rather the total 
 
 * want of tafte in thofe who bear, and who 
 
 * always affume to themfelves the privi- 
 
 * lege of judging y hath often produced this 
 { low fpecies of mufick. For it mufl be 
 ( owned that this kind of compofition is 
 
 * apt, above all others, at firft hearing to 
 4 flrikean unfkilful ear j and hence the ma- 
 c fters have often facrificed their art to the 
 < grofs judgement of an indelicate audience/ 
 
 Is not this directly parallel to what has 
 been before faid of poets and their read- 
 ers ? * 
 
 * And if a falfe tafte coold be fo generally propagated 
 from this caufe, in a fcience founded upon certain prin- 
 ciples and eftablifhed rules, which are open to the know* 
 lege of all enquirers, how much more likely is it to be 
 the cafe in an art, where the ftudious can find no prin- 
 ciples to found their judgements upon, nor no rules to be 
 their guides, except a few that are falfe, which will cer- 
 tainly miflead them ? 
 
 Z 3 Hs
 
 54* BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 He has affigried a quite contrary caufe 
 for a corruption of a different -kind, when 
 comparing the ftate of modern with an- 
 tient mufick, he fays, s From the ftruc- 
 
 * ture of their inftrurnents, we can not 
 1 form any vaffc idea of their powers : 
 c they feem to have been inferior to thofc 
 1 in life- at prefent: but which, indeed, be- 
 
 * ing capable of as much execution as ex- 
 ' preflion, are only rendered more liable 
 c to be abufed. Thus the too great com- 
 
 * pafs of our modern inftruments, tempt- 
 
 * ing as well the compofer as performer, 
 f to exceed the natural bounds of har- 
 
 * mony, may be one reafon, why fome 
 
 * authors have fo warmly efpoufed the 
 
 * caufe of the antient mufick, 'and run 
 
 * down that of the modern.' 
 
 Here indeed the comparifon does not 
 hold. Our poets, far from running riot on 
 account of their abundance, have ftarved 
 tljemfelves in the midft of plenty. And 
 thro' their want of fkill in the manage- 
 ment of their inftrument, inftead of pro- 
 ducing the great variety of tones whereof 
 it is capable, they have confined them- 
 felves to a few fimple modulations, which
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 343 
 
 make it appear to have a lefs compafs than 
 thofe of the antients. And this was a 
 natural confequence of not ftudying our 
 language, without which it was im- 
 poflible we could know it's peculiar graces 
 or force ; or perceive what fort of num- 
 bers were bed fuited to it's genius. No- 
 thing was left us in this cafe, but imita- 
 tion ; and as it was foon found that the 
 Roman meafures could not be adopted 
 into our tongue, we followed the track 
 of our neighbours, and built our poetry 
 upon their rules. Thus did we fubmit 
 thro' choice to all the imperfections under 
 which theirs laboured from neceffity. We 
 blindly confidered our language as formed 
 upon the fame Gothick model as the 
 other European tongues, and thro' want 
 of enquiry, did not know that ours alone 
 had luckily retained all the qualities 
 which gave fuch charms to antient poetry; 
 befides fome peculiar to ourfelves, which, 
 properly ufed, give us a fuperiority over 
 them. We did not know, that amidft all 
 their variety of meafures, in their different 
 fpecies of poetry, there js.not one tp which 
 
 ber have n "^ OI " W a 7, n6t have > 
 2 * fomething
 
 344 BRITISH 'BOOK II. 
 fomething analogous in ours, and for the 
 moft part more per fed: in it's kind. Our 
 blindnefs in this refpect is at this day the 
 more extraordinary, becaufe it is no longer 
 a thing in embryo, to be feen only thro 1 
 microfcopes, but we have proofs of it glar- 
 ing as defy-light, and the full-grown per- 
 fect productions ftare us in the face. But 
 we have eyes and fee not, ears have *wc 
 and we bear not. How few are there ca- 
 pable of knowing, that Milton does not 
 exceed Homer and Virgil in any thing ib 
 much as in his numbers ? And if it can 
 be proved that we excel them in that re- 
 fpecl in the more fublime compoiitions of 
 epick and tragick poetry, no one can pre- 
 tend to fay that we might not vie with 
 them even in the lyrick, were our lan- 
 guage cultivated and reftored to it's pu- 
 rity. We have at leaft one in fiance to 
 ground this opinion upon, which is, that 
 the Englifh can boafl of the moil per- 
 fect ode that ever was produced in any 
 language, in- point of variety, harmony, 
 and expreftton in it's numbers j and were it 
 not difgraced by rhime, it muft, in the 
 ppinion of the moil delicate, and unpre- 
 judiced
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 345 
 
 judiced judges, bear away the palm from 
 all antiquity. I mean the ode on St. Ce- 
 cilia's day, by Mr. Dryden. If our lan- 
 guage in it's corrupt flate were capable of 
 . fo much, what might we not hope for 
 from it were it polilhed and refined ? 
 Should we recover a true tafte, and by 
 difcarding- rhime make room for our 
 banimed vowels, who knows, when the 
 found of our words was rendered more 
 melodious, what pleafing meafures a true 
 genius might yet difcover ; and what bold 
 Pindarick flights he might take when his 
 wings were full grown, and his fetters 
 taken off? Left we mould too haftily deter- 
 mine with refpecl: to the number and kinds 
 of meafure which the genius of our lan- 
 guage will admit, by what has been already 
 .done, be it remembered that Horace, 
 - the -numerofus Horaftus, was the firfl 
 . who difcovered to the Romans, in his 
 odes, the variety of numbers of which 
 their language was capable, notwith- 
 ftanding it had been for fome time in it's 
 utmoft ftate of perfection before he be- 
 gan to write. 
 
 
 :>"[ The
 
 346 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 The general ignorance which has pre- 
 vailed in regard to this point, will not 
 feem at all furprifing to any one who con- 
 fiders, that it is impoflible to know 
 any thing of poetical numbers without 
 fkill in reading. The verfes of a poet, 
 and the compofitions of the matter, in 
 mufick, are in this refpecl: exactly on a 
 par. Let us fuppofe a country where t^e 
 fcience of mufick was at a very low ebb, 
 and the inflruments proportion ably poor : 
 let us fuppofe that men of the moft ex- 
 cellent genius in that art mould ariie in 
 fuch a country : could they poffibly fhevv 1 
 their fkill beyond what was in the com pals 
 of thofe inftruments to perform ? Suppofe 
 one of uncommon abilities mould be able 
 to fet down upon paper, compofitions of 
 the nobleft and fublimeft harmony, muft 
 they not be entirely unknown, if it was 
 impoflible to have them executed ? Is it 
 not to be fuppofed that all muficians, who 
 fought either fame or profit, would, in 
 fuch a country, confine themfelves to fuch 
 ftrains, and modulations, as were befl 
 fuited to their inftruments, without waft- 
 ing their time in laborious refearches into 
 
 2 an
 
 X. EDUCATION. 347 
 
 an ufelefs theory, which could not be re- 
 duced to practice ? Could it be expected 
 that any genius ever fo towering, mould 
 be fo difmterefted, as to employ himfelf en- 
 tirely in works, which could neither add 
 to his reputation or advantage whilft alive, 
 in hopes that proper inftruments might 
 afterwards be invented, which in the 
 hands of fkilful performers might difplay 
 their beauties and gain him honour with 
 a late pofterity ? Nay, let us fuppofe that 
 he could invent proper inftruments, or im- 
 port them together with proper perform- 
 ers from fome other country, would he 
 not find it difficult to alter an eftablimed 
 national tafte, till the art was firft ftudied, 
 and a true tafte introduced, founded upon 
 the knowlege of the rules? It would be a 
 difficult matter to perfuade an ignorant 
 Highlander that any inftrument is fo agree- 
 able to the ear as the bagpipe j or an un- 
 cultivated Welfli or Irifbman, that the harp 
 is not fuperior to the violin. Nor would 
 all the rhetorick in the world prevail on 
 them to believe, that a piece of Corelli's is 
 at all comparable to one of their own wild 
 
 airs. And this prevalence of cuftom and 
 
 i 
 \ early
 
 348 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 early impreflions is not peculiar to the 
 rude and ignorant only, but is feen as re- 
 markably in the moft polimed countries.. 
 Every one knows with what raptures the 
 Parifian liftens to the mufick of the French 
 opera, which is diiagreeable to the laft 
 degree, and grating to the fkilful ear of 
 all foreigners. 
 
 But the poetical compofer is in every 
 point under greater difficulties than the 
 mufical. The works of the latter are 
 publicklyfhewn in all their genuine beauty 
 and force, by the hands of (kilfut per- 
 formers regularly trained. So that he has 
 a chance of having fome good judges 
 amongft his auditors, as all perfons in- 
 clined to obtain a critical knowlege in that 
 fcience, are furniflied with examples, as 
 well as rules, upon which to form their 
 tafte. But the tune of the poet (if I may 
 be allowed the expreffion) is only fung 
 in private, in which every reader is to 
 himfelf a performer. Flow {kilful a one 
 he is likely to be, may be judged by con- 
 fidering, that in an art infinitely .more dif- 
 ficult than the mufical one, he has neither 
 rules nor example to guide him. So that 
 
 iF
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 349 
 
 if the inftrument be out of tune, or the 
 car vitiated and bad, the performer wilt 
 not be fenfible of thefe defects in himfelf, 
 but will attribute the fault to the poet's 
 numbers. To fuch a one, thofe ftrains 
 which are moil harmonious, and in which 
 the poet's {kill is rnoft difplayed, will ap- 
 pear moft difcordant. The more diver- 
 iified the cadence, the more varied the 
 numbers are, the more difagreeable and 
 ill-formed will the verfes appear from an 
 uniformity of pronunciation ; an error into 
 which unfkilful readers neceffarily fall. 
 To fuch the introduction of different feet 
 into the fame meafure, and their judicious 
 combinations, appear only to create diforder 
 andconfulion, and the want of rhime is with 
 them the want of meafure, which ufed 
 to be their unerring guide in marking the 
 clofe. It is thus the Chinefe judge of the 
 European pictures. For being accuftom- 
 ed to confider the different excellence of 
 their own, only in regard to the richnefs 
 of the colouring, they fee no beauty in 
 ours, which they fay have too many 
 black fpots in them, for fo they call the 
 (hades. 
 
 Hence
 
 350 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 Hence it is manifefl that our poets, if 
 they expected to be read with pleafure, 
 were obliged to adapt their ftrains to the 
 capacity of their readers, and to make life 
 only of fuch numbers as could be moil 
 eafily perceived. And hence arofe that 
 uniformity of cadence, and general ufe of 
 rhime in their works. Thus as their tafk 
 became extremely eafy, they were faved 
 the trouble of fludying the principles of 
 their art, and fet up at once for matters, 
 without ferving any apprenticefhip. They 
 entered immediately upon the practice, 
 without any knowlege of the theory ; 
 and inftead of unerring rules to direct 
 them, they had only two very uncertain 
 guides, imitation, and their own ear. Of 
 all the poets who have written in our lan- 
 guage, there feem to be but two, who 
 have dived into the principles of verifi- 
 cation, and traced Englifli numbers to 
 their fource. Thefe were Drvden, and 
 
 J 
 
 Milton. What I have faid upon .this fub-, 
 ject will be fufficiently exemplified by the 
 different conduit of thefe two cotempo- 
 rary writers, and the different recepdon 
 which their works met with from the 
 
 publick.
 
 CHAF.IX. EDUCATION. 351 
 
 publick. Dryden knew perhaps the theory 
 of numbers as well as Milton, but was far 
 from makingthe fame ufe of hisknowlege, 
 which he turned wholly to ferve his own 
 purpofe. He wrote for bread, which depend- 
 ed upon prefent fame -, and prefent fame 
 was to arife from pleating the prefent tafte. 
 That once obtained, his bookfeller, who 
 never considered the intrinfick value, paid 
 him in proportion to the bulk of his work, 
 or the number of lines which it contained. 
 As he was always a needy, he was of 
 courfe an hafly writer. PoffefTed as he 
 was of fuch an happy knack of rhiming, 
 he could have produced an hundred lines 
 that would give delight on account of that 
 ornament, in the fame fpace of time that 
 he could have written ten, whofe beauty 
 depended upon the propriety and harmony 
 of numbers, and whofe charms, after all 
 his pains, could not be perceived by the 
 multitude of unfkilful readers. Many 
 hafty thoughts would even appear beauti- 
 ful on account of the richnefs of a rhime, 
 which in blank verfe would pafs for pu- 
 erile. Add to all this, that indulgence to 
 
 all
 
 352 BRITISH BoofclL 
 
 all faults and errors in this kind of writ- 
 ing is much more eafily granted, than in 
 any other, from a fuppofed reftraint which 
 the poet lie's under j when in fact, to one 
 pofleffed of a natural faculty in that re- 
 fpect, improved by habit, there is no ftyle 
 whatever foeafy. When all this 1? confider- 
 ed, it can not be a matter of wonder, that 
 Dryden mould do everything in his power 
 to keep up a tafte which was fo perfectly 
 adapted to his purpofes, and to make it as 
 extenfive as pomble. With this view, he 
 gave a remarkable inftance of what has 
 been before obferved, ' how much it is 
 c in the power of one iingle perfon of re- 
 c putation, to introduce or confirm a bad 
 4 tafte in a whole people/ by writing even 
 tragedies in rhime, which were not only 
 heard without difguft, but, as we are in- 
 formed, gave great delight to the vitiated 
 ear of thofe times. Nor is it long fince we 
 have recovered tafte enough to banifh 
 thofe monftrous performances from the 
 ftage. Upon the whole, Dryden was the 
 reigning poet of his time, and his works 
 
 were univerfally read and admired. Nor 
 
 would
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 353 
 would the number of his votaries have 
 been leffened at this day, had not a fuc- 
 ceflbr of more application, and greater 
 leifure, outdone him in his own arts. 
 
 But Milton afted upon principles di- 
 rectly oppolite. Like the great poets of 
 antiquity, he painted for eternity j only 
 his conduct in this rcfpedt was infinitely 
 more difinterefted, as he gave up all 
 chance of prefent fame. His light ftone 
 forth in vain, for the darknefs compre- 
 hended it not. His almoft divine poem 
 of Paradife loft was fold for fifteen 
 pounds, which was to have been received 
 at three different payments, the laft of 
 which there is fome reafon to believe was 
 never made : nor do we find that the 
 bookfeller was a great gainer by the pur- 
 chafe. Yet notwithstanding the unfuit- 
 able returns he met with, he ftill proceed- 
 ed with a noble zeal for the honour of his 
 country, and it's language, to leave behind 
 him the moft perfect models, whofe 
 beauty, tho' loft upon the blindnefs of a 
 prefent age, might be perceived by a more 
 enlightened pofterity. Nor could any 
 mean or felfifh motive induce him to 
 A a fwerve
 
 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 fvverve from that ftril rule of right, by 
 which he fquared all his poetical writings. 
 To make ufe of the words of one of the 
 moft ingenious as well as judicious of the 
 moderns, c The contempt, in which, 
 ' perhaps, with juftice, he held the age 
 1 he lived in, prevented him from conde- 
 
 * fcending either to amufe or to inftrudt it. 
 
 * He had, before, given to his unworthy 
 4 countrymen the nobleft poem, that ge- 
 ' nius, conducted by antient art, could 
 c produce ; and he had feen them receive 
 ' it with difregard, if not with diflike. 
 
 * Confcious therefore of his own dignity, 
 1 and of their demerit, he looked to po- 
 
 * flerity only for reward, and to pofte- 
 ' rity only directed his future labours. 
 
 * Hence it was perhaps, that he formed 
 
 * his Sampfon Agoniftes on a model more 
 
 * fimple and fevere than Athens herfelf 
 ' would have demanded ; and took JE,{- 
 ' chylus for his matter, rather than So- 
 c phocles, or Euripides : intending by thi* 
 
 * conduct to put as great a diftance as pof- 
 
 * fible between himfelf and his cotempo- 
 
 | Mafon's fccond letter, pref. to Elfrida. 
 
 
 
 c rary
 
 C'HAP.IX. EDUCATION. 355 
 ' rary writers ; and to make his work (as 
 ' he himfelf {aid) much different from 
 ' what amongft them paiTcd for the beft. 
 
 c The fuccefs of this poem was, ac- 
 ( cordingly, v/hat one would have expeft- 
 
 * ed. The age, it appeared in, treated it 
 
 * with total neglect ; neither hath that 
 ' pofterity, to which he appealed, and 
 ' which has done juftice to moft of his 
 4 other writings, as yet given to this ex- 
 
 * cellent piece it's full meafure of popular 
 c and univerfal fame/ 
 
 Here I muft beg leave to difTent from 
 the opinion of this very judicious remarker, 
 where he feems to think that the pofterity to 
 which he appealed hath already done j uftice 
 to moft of Milton's other writings, tho' not 
 to his Sampfon. We have indeed done 
 him all the juftice in our power, and given 
 him his due degree of praife for fuch part 
 of his excellence as we were capable of 
 perceiving; but I am far from thinking the 
 prefent age fo far enlightened as to be able 
 to fee, much lefs to admire, fome of his 
 greateft beauties. It is true, his Paradife 
 loft has long fince obtained it's full mea- 
 fure of popular and univerfal fame. But 
 A a 2 this
 
 356 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 this perhaps may be attributed to another 
 caufe than a general improvement of tafte. 
 It is more than probable that it was chiefly, 
 if not wholly owing to the papers of cri- 
 ticifm upon that poem, published by the 
 rnoft popular and univerfally admired of 
 our J writers in profe. As thefe are pre- 
 ferved in || books more generally read than 
 perhaps any other in the Englim lan- 
 guage, the fame of the poet goes hand in 
 hand with that of the critick; and the per- 
 fections of the poem pointed out by him, 
 are as generally known, as the effays in 
 which they are fo difplayed. One ftrong 
 argument in fupport of this opinion, may 
 be drawn from the vaft number and va- 
 riety of editions of that poem, which have 
 made their appearance in the world fmce 
 the publication of thofe papers, whereas 
 before that time the work was little known 
 or fought after. True criticifm was then 
 a new fpecies of writing in Englifh, nor 
 has it been much improved fince. It had 
 not only the charms of novelty to recom- 
 mend it, but likewife the highefl abilities 
 in the writer. All who admired the ana- 
 
 t Ur. AiMifon. I The Spectators. 
 
 lylis
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 357 
 
 lyfis of the work, of courfe applied them- 
 felves to read the original ; partly led by 
 curioiity, and partly from an actuating 
 principle of man, to judge for himfelf in 
 all critical enquiries, and to examine whe- 
 ther the remarks were made with juftice 
 and propriety. This will fufficiently ac- 
 count for the univerfality of this poem as 
 to it's being read, and alfo for the general 
 applaufe which it has ever fince met with. 
 Readers of tafte and knowlege extolled it 
 from a perception of it's merit j and the 
 ignorant, and taftelefs, relied on the au- 
 thority of the critick, and joined in the cry, 
 left they mould difcover their own want 
 of judgement. This may alfo ferve as a 
 clue to guide us to the caufe why the 
 Agoniftes obtained fuch a difproportionate 
 fhare of fame, and was known only to a 
 few ; for had the fame critick taken the 
 fame pains to point out the beauties of 
 that poem which he did with regard to 
 the other, it is more than probable that 
 it would have been as univerfally known, 
 and fpoken of, as the other, tho' perhaps 
 not fo generally admired. To ftrengthen 
 this argument it is well worth obfervation, 
 A a 3 that
 
 558 BRITISH BOOK II, 
 that no other work of his has made it's 
 way to publick knowlege without the 
 affiftance of fome helping hand. The 
 Allegro and Penferofo were confined to 
 the clofets of the judicious, 'till the cele- 
 brated Handel by the charms of his mu- 
 Hck forced them into fame. And his 
 Comus lay buried in ohfcurity, 'till the 
 hiftre of mufick fhewed it to the pub- 
 lick eye : and how little that was capa- 
 ble of perceiving it's beauties, might be 
 feen from the reception it met with. For 
 \vhilft the mufician's fkill was applauded 
 to the fides, the poem itfelf was either not 
 attended to, or only occafioned wearinefs 
 and fatiety. It will be allowed by all, that 
 had it not been for the ornament of the 
 fongs, the dramatick part could not have 
 lived to a fecond night : and the whole 
 piece, lince the mufick has loft great part 
 of it's charms with it's novelty, is now 
 fcarce able to hold up it's head. His Ly- 
 cidas, and fome other pieces, for want of 
 fome fuch affiftance, are ftill in the'fhade. 
 A particular fatality feems to have at- 
 tended Milton, different from the cafe of 
 all other poets. Any one piece of allowed 
 
 excel*
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 359 
 
 excellence, and general reputation, would 
 be fufficient, in any other writer, to excite 
 the higheft curiofity, to fee whatever 
 other competitions he might offer to the 
 world, and to ftamp a value upon them 
 beyond their intrinfick merit. Whilft in 
 his cafe, tho' there never was any thing 
 more univerfally allowed, than that he was 
 the author of the nobleft poem that has 
 appeared in the Englifh language, yet this 
 has not induced many people to look into 
 fome of his other works, tho' they are 
 really in their feveral kinds of equal per- 
 fection with that. And this is an incon- 
 teftible proof, that however general the 
 praife has been, and however lavimly be- 
 Aowed on the Paradife loft, the greateft 
 part of it arofe from fafhion and authority} 
 and whatever quantity of admiration it 
 has excited, it has been for the mod part 
 only pretended. For if people were really 
 as much pleafed with that work, as they 5 
 fay, and would make us believe, what 
 could flop them from purfuing the delight 
 which they muft neceflarily receive from 
 the perufal of his other inimitable pieces ? 
 
 A a 4 Th
 
 3.6o BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 The fadt is, that tho' Milton has by; 
 the means abovementioned obtained uni- 
 verial fame, yet it is far from being found- 
 ed, upon a right and folid bafts. Fafhiiufcr 
 and the authority of a few allowed judges, 
 may go a great way towards making a 
 poem be talked of, and to obtain the in- 
 cenfe of general praife, but this, as Mao 
 beth fays, is only 
 
 - c Mouth honour, breath, 
 
 * Which the poor flave would fain deny, 
 
 * and dare not.' 
 
 The poetical, like the regal crown, can 
 have no great fecurity but in the hearts 
 of the people -, and the hearts of the peo- 
 ple can be engaged to the poet only by 
 the pleafure and delight which his works 
 afford them. Now tho' Milton has been 
 put into poffeffion of his lawful fceptov 
 2nd all the due homage attendant on that 
 has been paid to him, yet his throne feems 
 only to be founded on his right, and hath 
 not as yet obtained the fecurity of the 
 people's affections. 
 
 fjpThe realon of this will at once be feen, 
 when we rerkdt, that however ibme other 
 points in a poem may to the judicious ap- 
 pear
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 361 
 
 pear more effential, yet it is by the charms 
 of verification alone that the multitude is 
 caught. In poetry, as in painting, the 
 unikilful majority are more captivated by 
 the colouring than the drawing. If there- 
 fore the works of Milton appear defective 
 in this refpect, if his verfes in general, far 
 from giving pleafure and delight, mould 
 itrike the uncultivated or vitiated ears of 
 the age, as difcordant, and unmulical, the 
 whole difficulty will at once be folved. His 
 other merits, and excellencies, dilplayed 
 by judicious criticks, may procure him a 
 few real, and moals of pretended admirers 5 
 but can not gain him any lovers. Meri 
 may be reafoned into efteem, but not into 
 affection. That arifes from an involuntary 
 delight, immediately perceived from a con- 
 templation of the object which excites it. 
 Mr. Addifon has, with great accuracy and 
 clearnefs, laid open the admirable art and 
 profound judgement of Milton, in the 
 choice and conduct of his fable, in the 
 mafterly drawing of his characters, with 
 fuitable manners, and in the fublimity and 
 beauty of his fentiment and diction. Thefe 
 juftly challenge our admiration, and de- 
 mand
 
 362 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 mand our praife. But the charms of his 
 numbers are ftill covered as with a vail. 
 The admirers of the antients, when they 
 are compelled to allow him his due me- 
 rits, yet add with a feeming concern, tho' 
 with a fecret fatisfaftion, that it is a pity 
 fo excellent a workman had fuch poor 
 materials, and the compoiitions of fo great 
 a genius had not the advantage of fuch 
 ornaments as the languages of Greece or 
 Rome would have fupplied : whilft thofe 
 of modern tafte, fmcerely figh for their 
 dear rhime, and lament the want of that 
 uniformity of cadence to which their ears 
 had been tuned. But there is not one 
 reader perhaps in five thoufand, who 
 knows that the greatefl beauty of Milton 
 is his verification, and that he has excelled 
 all the writers of all ages, and all coun- 
 tries, in the variety, expreflion, and har- 
 mony of his numbers. 
 
 Nor will this appear a very extraordi- 
 nary aflertion when it is confidered, that 
 this is impofiible to be known without per- 
 fect fkill in reading ; that we are neceiTa- 
 rily corrupted in our firft principles of that 
 art, by ignorant mailers and falfe rules ; 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 363 
 
 and that there is not even an attempt made 
 to amend this in the reft of our lives. 
 Whilft therefore we remain in an igno- 
 rance of that art, we muft as necefTarily 
 remain in a total ignorance of the true 
 beauty and power of numbers, as we 
 mould do in regard to mufical compofi- 
 tions where the inftruments are defective 
 and out of tune, or the players unfkilful. 
 The poems of Milton muft appear in the 
 fame light to us, as our pictures do to the 
 Chinefe, and feem to have too many 
 black fpots in them. 'Till that art is 
 ftudied, we mail be fo far from having it 
 jn our power to give that firft of poets his 
 due praife, that we mall be blind to fome 
 of his greateft perfections j befides the 
 charms of verification, we mall lofe fome 
 of the fineft part of his imagery, and in 
 many places not even be able to compre- 
 hend his full meaning. 
 
 Let us therefore apply ourfelves feriouf- 
 ly, and with diligence, to a ftudy capable 
 of affording us fuch delight. Let us no 
 longer think, that to learn to read is fuffi- 
 cient, but to read well, and then, 
 
 < Pleas'4
 
 364 B R I r I S H BOOK II. 
 
 * Pleas'd we (hall hear, and learn the fecret 
 
 * power 
 
 ' Of harmony, in tones, and numbers hit, 
 ' By voice, or cadence.' * 
 Or, as the fame author fays in his treatife 
 on education, if we fet about this work, 
 
 * We mall be conducted to a hill fide, la- 
 ' borious indeed at the firft afcent, but 
 ' elfe fo fmooth, fo green, fo full of good- 
 c ly profpeft, and melodious founds on 
 ' every fide, that the harp of Orpheus was 
 ' not more charming.' 
 
 Let us examine our language with care, 
 and fearch into it's fecret treafures. Let 
 us no longer be contented with a poor 
 meagre vein of ore which we find near 
 the furfacc, and which, after the French 
 fafhion, ferves us only to wiredraw, or 
 gild over a bafer metal ; but let us dig 
 deep into the mine, where we mail find a 
 plenteous vein, equal in richnefs, and fu- 
 perior in magnitude, to that of the an- 
 tients. Or if theirs fhould be allowed to 
 be of a purer kind, yet ours will be found 
 to contain no more alloy in it, than what 
 will render it more fit for all forts of 
 workman (hip. 
 
 * ..Parad. 
 
 *
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 365 
 
 Too long have the beauties of the 
 Britifli mufe, like thofe of our ladies, 
 been concealed, or fpoiled, by foreign 
 modes and falfe ornaments. The paint 
 and patches of the French, the fantastical 
 head-drefs, the fqueezing flays, and enor- 
 mous hoop, only fpoil the bloom of her 
 complexion, the flowing ringlets of her 
 hair, her eafy fhape, and graceful mein. 
 Should a polifhed Athenian arife, and be- 
 hold her thus decked out, he would be 
 aftonimed to fee, in a country enlight- 
 ened by their rules, and example, de- 
 formity made a fcience, and barbarifm re- 
 duced to rule. Thus adorned like an har- 
 lot, me inflames the youth with wanton 
 defires, and fpreads infection thro' the 
 land. What hopes can there be of a ro- 
 buft and healthy offspring from fuch im- 
 pure embraces ? Let us endeavour to re- 
 cover her from the tyrannical fway of 
 famion and prejudice, and reftore her to 
 her native rights. Let us leave to the fal- 
 low French their rouge and white paint, 
 but let the Britifli red and white appear 
 in it's genuine luftre, as laid on by na- 
 ture's own pencil. Let them torture the 
 
 body
 
 366 BRITISH BOOK it 
 
 body into a fantaftick mape, or conceal 
 crookednefs under an armour of fteel j let 
 them cover puny limbs, and a mincing 
 gait, under the wide circumference of an 
 hoop ; but let the eafy mein, the comely 
 ftature, the fine proportioned limbs de- 
 cently revealed, and the unreftrained ma- 
 jefty of motion in the Britifh mufe, be 
 difplayed to fight in their native charms. 
 Then mall (he move forth confeffed the 
 genuine fifter of the Grecian mufe, and 
 not the lefs beautiful for being the younger. 
 Then mail her votaries burn with a pure 
 and holy flame, and the poetical offspring, 
 from a chart e marriage between fenfe and 
 harmony, will be found lovely, vigorous, 
 and long-lived 3 inftead of monftrous chi- 
 ma*ras, fhapes flitting as clouds, and 
 mere airy echoes produced from the wan- 
 ton amours of found and fancy. 
 
 Upon the whole, were our language to 
 be fludied and cultivated, we mould find, 
 that in point of giving delight, it would 
 not yield to thofe of antiquity ; and that 
 it is much better fitted for univerfal ufe. 
 Were it reduced to rules, it might be 
 more eafily learned, and with more accu- 
 racy,
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 367 
 racy, as it is a living language. The true 
 pronunciation may be acquired with cer- 
 tainty, on that account, from the mouth 
 of a proper mafter ; whereas we can at 
 beil only guefs at that of the antients, and 
 muft therefore be Grangers to many beau- 
 ties in theirs as to found. What in this 
 cafe could hinder ours from being more 
 univerfally propagated than any other, 
 confidering the great advantages we enjoy 
 by means of general commerce, and a 
 free prefs ? And from the many excellent 
 writings with which it is already enriched, 
 together with thofe which may hereafter 
 be added, perhaps even of a fuperior 
 kind, mould men -of equal genius arife, 
 with the advantage of having their labour 
 leffened, and their way fmoothed, why 
 might there not be as fair a profpedl of 
 immortality to our authors, as to v the 
 Greek and Roman ? Nothing but the moft 
 fhameful neglect in the people can prevent 
 the Englifh from handing down to pofte- 
 rity a third claffical language, of far more 
 importance than the other two. 
 
 C H A P.
 
 3 68 B R 2 r I S H BOOK II. 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of the means whereby our language may be 
 refined and after tained 
 
 TH E only fcheme hitherto propofed 
 for correcting, improving, and af- 
 certaining our language, has been the in- 
 ftitution of a fociety for that purpofe. But 
 this is liable to innumerable objections > 
 nor would it be a difficult ^point to prove, 
 that fuch a method could never effectually 
 anfvver the end. In the firfl place, it 
 would be no eafy matter to find a fufTicient 
 number of members properly qualified to 
 compofe fuch a fociety j as there are few 
 or none properly trained in the fludy of 
 thofe points, in regard to which they are 
 to pafs judgement : and perhaps there 
 would not be one who mould appear at 
 fuch a board, without fixed and rooted 
 errors from the prejudices of a wrong 
 education. If they were not properly 
 qualified, their rules and determinations 
 would be proportionably falfe, and de- 
 fective. In this cafe we mould be in a 
 
 worfc
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 369 
 worfe condition than without any rules at 
 all. In the fecond place, fuppofing them 
 to proceed ever fo rightly in their fyftem, 
 tho' they might afcertain. the meaning of 
 words, it would be impomble by any 
 works which they could publifh to fix the 
 found and pronunciation, as a knowlege 
 of thofe can be communicated only by 
 fpeech. And unlefs fome means can be 
 found to afcertain thofe, the language 
 muft be in a perpetual ftate of fluctuation. 
 But the chief reafon which muft ever 
 render fuch a fcheme abortive, arifes from 
 our conftitution, and the genius of the 
 people. The endeavours of fuch a fociety, 
 in arbitrary governments, under the fanc- 
 tion and countenance of an abfolute prince, 
 may be crowned with fuccefs : but the 
 Englidi have no idea of fubmitting to any 
 laws, to which they do not give their own 
 confent. Tho' fuch a fociety were there- 
 fore to proceed upon the righted prin- 
 ciples, they would find it difficult to get 
 their felf-raifed authority, had it even the 
 fanftion of the higheft powers, acknow- 
 leged by a ftubborn free people, ever 
 jealous of their rights, and naturally in- 
 B b clined
 
 370 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 clined to withftand all ufurpations : and 
 without a foundation on allowed authority, 
 their whole edifice muft of courfe fall to 
 the ground. But why mould we even 
 think of following any methods purfued 
 in the countries of ilaves, and which at the 
 beft have fallen very fhort of perfection, 
 when we have before our eyes the ex- 
 ample of a free people like ourfelves to 
 guide us, and whofe conduct in this point 
 was followed by the mod rapid and com- 
 plete fuccefs. The means which they 
 employed are fo exactly fuited to our cir- 
 cumftances and fituation, that we only 
 want to make ufe of them, to attain our 
 end, with equal eafe, and certainty. It 
 has been already (hewn, that the ftudy of 
 eloquence was the neceflary caufe of the 
 improvement, and eftablifhment of the 
 Roman language : and the fame caufe 
 would infallibly produce the fame effect 
 with us. Were the ftudy of oratory once 
 made a necelTary branch of education, all 
 our youth of parts, and genius, would of 
 courfe be employed in confidering the 
 value of words both as to found and fenfe. 
 The refult of the refearches of rational en- 
 quirers, muft be rules founded upon rational 
 
 principles -,
 
 CHAP.X. EDUCATION. 371 
 principles j and a. general agreement a- 
 mongft the mofl judicious, muft occasion 
 thofe rules to be as generally known, and 
 eftabliflied, and give them the force of laws. 
 Nor would thefe laws meet with oppofl- 
 tion, or be obeyed with reluclance, inaf- 
 much as they would not be eftablifhed by 
 the hand of power, but by common fuf- 
 frage, in which every one has a right to 
 give his vote : nor would they fail, in time, 
 of obtaining general authority, and per- 
 manence, from the fanction of cuflom, 
 founded on good fenfe. 
 
 It has been already fufficiently fhewn, 
 that we have all the fame inducements 
 to the ftudy of eloquence, which the Ro- 
 mans had, together with fome peculiar 
 to ourfelves, of a more powerful nature : 
 nothing therefore could pofTibly hinder 
 us from endeavouring to acquire fkill in 
 fo ufeful an art, but the want of proper 
 mailers, who might be enabled to teach 
 if with eafe, and certainty, by laying open 
 it's principles, explaining them by ex- 
 amples, and affording in themfelves mo- 
 dels and patterns for imitation to learners. 
 Could this once be done, there is no doubt 
 B b 2 but
 
 372 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 but that the Britifh youth would be in- 
 flamed with as great an ardor to arrive at 
 excellence in that art, as thofe of Rome. 
 For, to omit all the more powerful incite- 
 ments of fame, and profit, the very plea- 
 fure refulting to themfelves from the 
 practice of it, would be of itfelf a fufficient 
 motive to allure them to a clofe applica- 
 tion, and to confirm them in an habitual 
 exercife. Cicero, who enjoyed all the ad- 
 vantages refulting from a complete know- 
 lege of this art, in the moft eminent de- 
 gree, does not fcruple to fay, in his 
 Brutus, Dicertdt ant em me non tamfruftus, 
 . 6? gloria^ quamftudium ipfum, exercitatio- 
 que deleftat. Since therefore there are 
 fuch ftrong motives of profit, honour, and 
 delight, to induce individuals to the ftudy 
 of oratory, and fince their labours and ad- 
 vancement in that would in many points 
 be attended with fuch excellent effects to 
 the* publick, but more efpecially in the 
 article of refining and eftabliming our lan- 
 guage, is it not a pity that no attempts are 
 made towards the revival of that art ? Too 
 long has the Englifh tongue been neglect- 
 ed, too long have all forts of corruptions 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 373 
 and abufes been fuffered to make their 
 way into it. It is not yet too late to 
 amend all, tho' the fame inattention con- 
 tinued for a few years longer may poffibly 
 reduce it to an irremediable ftate. We 
 have ftronger reafons than ever at this 
 very juncture to take care that our lan- 
 guage be not wholly deftroyed. One" 
 arifes from a new-fangled cuftom intro- 
 duced by fome late authors, of fpelling 
 words differently from their wifer prede- 
 ceffors, and out of a poor ambition of 
 fhewing their learning, omitting and 
 changing feveral letters under pretence of 
 pointing out their derivation. But thefe 
 gentlemen do not confider, that moft of 
 thefe letters which feem ufelefs to them, 
 upon paper, or improper, are of the utmofl 
 confequence to point out and afcertain 
 the pronunciation of words, which is al- 
 ready in too precarious a ftate. So that 
 if this cuftom mould continue to increafe, 
 according to the caprice of every new 
 writer, for a century more, the beft au- 
 thors we have will by that time appear 
 as obfolete, and as difficult to be read, 
 and underflood, as Chaucer is at this day, 
 B b 3 Princifiis
 
 374 B R I r I S H BOOK II. 
 Principiis objla. Innovations are ever to 
 be withftood at firft, fince it has been often 
 known that thofe which in their begin- 
 nings have appeared too flight to merit 
 regard, have in time brought about the 
 moft total and furprifing changes. There 
 are alfo at prefent great endeavours ufed 
 to introduce and eflablifh another cuftom 
 not lefs pernicious, and which may be 
 attended with the moft fatal confequences. 
 There are many perfons, and even large 
 bodies of men, efteemed amongft the 
 moft learned, who being weary of the 
 great uncertainty of pronunciation in our 
 tongue, would reduce the whole to one 
 invariable and general rule, that of throw- 
 ing the accent as far back in our polyfyl- 
 lables as pofTible. It is inconceivable that 
 fuch a thought mould have entered into 
 the heads of any but barbarians: much 
 lefs that perfons converfant in the Greek 
 and Roman languages, fhould endeavour 
 to eftablifh a practice fo oppofite to that 
 of thofe polimed nations. They can not 
 but know, that no word in theirs was ever 
 accented beyond the antepenuitima, or 
 laft fyllable but two, and if they were 
 
 able
 
 CHAP.X. EDUCATION. 375 
 
 able to read, they would know that this 
 was founded upon the jufteft principles. 
 Indeed nothing but a total ignorance of 
 that art, could pofiibly make them think 
 of introducing a rule, which if it ob- 
 tained, would at once deftroy all melody, 
 harmony, and quantity, in our words, as 
 well as derivative meaning. 
 
 We have at prefent alfo a much ftronger 
 inducement than ever, to thefludy of our 
 language, as the way has been fmoothed 
 and made eafy by the late publication of 
 Mr. Johnfon's dictionary. Without fuch 
 a work, indeed, the tafk muft have been 
 extremely laborious, if not impracticable. 
 Nor can the great merit and utility of that 
 performance ever be perceived without 
 fuch ftudy. If that be brought about, 
 the publick will no longer have reafon to 
 lament, that one of fuch uncommon 
 genius, and abilities, mould have pafled 
 fo much of his life in a kind of work, 
 which has hitherto fallen to the lot of 
 mean capacities. Nor will he himfelf 
 have reafon to regret the many irkfome 
 and difagreeable hours pafled by him in 
 a dry and laborious ftudy, when he re- 
 IE b 4 fleas
 
 376 B R I r 1 S H BOOK II. 
 fleets on the proportion of fame which 
 will attend it : fince if our language mould 
 ever be fixed, he muft be confidered by 
 all pofterity as the founder, and his dicti- 
 onary as the corner ftone. 
 
 As the cultivation and eftablimment of 
 that can be effected by no other means, 
 but by the introduction of the fludy of 
 eloquence, I mail clofe this head with a 
 few paffages from Quictilian, wherein the 
 objections which may arife on account of 
 the difficulty of arriving at excellence in 
 that art are fully anfwered, and the mo- 
 tives to engage men in the purfuit are dii"- 
 played in the brightefl colours. 
 
 j- c With fo many matters, and with 
 
 <fuch 
 
 f Tot nos prazceptoribus, tot exemplis inftruxit antiqui- 
 tas. ut p'offit videri nulla forte nofcendi atas felicior, quant 
 noflra, cui docendae priores elaboraverunt. 
 
 Ante omnia fufficit ad exhortationera ftudiorum, nou 
 cadere in rerum naturam, ut quicquid non eft faftum, ne 
 fieri quidem poffit : cum omnia qua; magna funt atqne 
 admirabilia, tempus aliquod quo primum efficerentur ha- 
 buerint. Quantum enim poefis ab Homero & Virgilio, 
 tantum faftigium accepit eloquentia a Demofthene & Ci- 
 cerone. Denique quicquid ell optimum antea non fuerat. 
 Verumetiam li quis i'umniadefperet (quod cur faciat, cui in- 
 genium, v;iletudo, facultas, praeceptor, non deerunt ?) tamen 
 eft (ut Cicero ait) pulchrum in fccundis tertiifque confiftere. 
 
 Adde quod mignos modic.i quoque eloquentia parit 
 fruclus, ac ft quis hzc ftudia utilitate fola metiatur, pene 
 illi perfedze par eft. Neque erat difficile, vel veteribus, 
 
 vel
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 377 
 1 fuch a number of models, hath antiquity 
 ' furniflied us, that no age could feem 
 4 luckier in the lot of it's nativity than our 
 ' own j for the inftruction of which all 
 1 the preceding have laboured. 
 
 4 Above all, we have a fufficient incen- 
 c tive to perfevere in our ftudies, when we 
 c confider, that to fay, becaufe a thing has 
 ' not yet been effected, therefore it can 
 1 not be done, is a contradiction in nature ; 
 c fince there was a certain period of time 
 ' when every thing that was great and ad- 
 ' mirable begun to be produced. For juft as 
 ' much as poetry was perfected by Homer 
 ' and Virgil, in the fame high proportion 
 ' was eloquence improved byDemofthenes 
 1 and Cicero. In fhort, there was a time, 
 ' when whatever is excellent had no exif- 
 c tence. But mould even a man defpair 
 
 vel novis exeipplis palam facere, non aliunde majores ho- 
 nores, opes, amicitias, laudem prasfcntem, futuram, homi- 
 nibus contigifTe, fi tamen dignum literis efTet, ab opere pul- 
 cherrimo, cujus tradatus atque ipfapoffeffio pleniffimam ftu- 
 diis gratiam refert, hanc minorem exigere mercedem, more 
 eorum qui a fe non virtutes,fed voluptatcm quse fit a virtuti- 
 bus peti dicunt. Ipfam igitur orapdi majeftatem, qua nihil 
 dii immortales melius hominidederunt, & quaremota, muta 
 funt omnia, & luce prefenti, & memoria pofleritatis carent, 
 toto animo petamus, nitamurque fempcr ad optima: quod 
 fasientes, aut evademus in fummum, aut certe multos in- 
 fra nos videbimus. Lib. xii. cap. 11. 
 
 of
 
 378 BRITISH BOOK II. 
 
 ' of the higheft attainments (and why he 
 
 * mould do fo, who neither wants genius, 
 ' nor health, nor opportunity, nor a maf- 
 ' ter, no reafon can be affigned) it is ftill, 
 
 * as Cicero fays, an honour to rank in 
 
 * the fecond and third degrees. 
 
 ' Add to this, that even a moderate mare 
 ' of eloquence produces great advantages j. 
 
 * and, if one meafures thefe fludies merely 
 f by the profit, is almoft on a par with the 
 
 * perfection of oratory. Nor would it be 
 ' a difficult tafk to prove, either by antient 
 ' or modern examples, that there is no 
 
 * fouree from which men derive greater 
 
 * honours, eflates, connections, and pre- 
 ' fent as well as future fame ; if the dig- 
 c nity of erudition would allow us to ex- 
 
 * act this fmaller recompence from a glo- 
 < rious ftudy, the mere exercife and enjoy- 
 ' ment of which moft amply rewards our 
 
 * application ; like thofe who make no 
 1 icruplc of declaring, that not virtue, but 
 
 * the pleafure which redounds from it, is 
 1 the object of their purfuit. Let it there- 
 4 fore be our whole ambition to come at 
 
 * the true majefty of eloquence, than which 
 '* the immortal gods have bellowed no- 
 
 * thing
 
 tt 
 
 CHAP.X. EDUCATION. 379 
 
 * thing better on men j without which 
 ' all things become fpeechlefs, and are cut 
 
 * off from the notice of the prefent age, as 
 ' well as the knowlege of pofterity. In or- 
 ' der to compafs this, let us always keep 
 1 the beft models in our eye ; by doing 
 
 * which, we (hall either arrive at the fum~ 
 
 * mit, or at leajft fee many below us.' 
 
 END of the SECOND BOOK. 
 
 R
 
 
 '
 
 B R I ? I S H 
 EDUCATION,&c. 
 
 BOOK III. CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the liberal arts, and their fource. 
 
 THERE is no queftion which 
 has in all ages puzzled the 
 curious enquirers more, than 
 when it has been afked, what the reafon 
 could be, that the liberal arts have in cer- 
 tain countries, at particular aeras, made 
 a rapid progrefs towards perfection, flou- 
 rifhed together for a fhort fpace of time 
 (notfo longas the lifeof a man) then either 
 gradually fallen to decay, or perifhed fud- 
 denly, nor ever raifed their heads again 
 in thofe countries, in fpite of the utmoft 
 endeavours ufed to revive them ? I fhall 
 
 fet
 
 382 BRITISH BOOK 111. 
 fet down this queftion as ftated at large 
 by Velleius Paterculus. c -j- Who can 
 
 f Quis enim abunde mirari poteft, errn'nentiffima cn- 
 jnfque prcfeffionis ingenia, in eandem fonnam, & in idem 
 artati temporis congruens fpatium ; & quemadmodum 
 claula capia, alioque fepto diverfi generis animalia, nihilo 
 minus feparata alienis, in unum qu.-que corpus congpe- 
 gantur, ita cuj .fque clari operis capacia ingenia in fimilitu- 
 dinem & temporum & profe&uum fernetipia ab aliis fepa- 
 raverunt ? Una, neque multorum annorum fptio divifa, 
 astas, per divini fpiritus viros, ./Efchylum, Sophoclem, 
 Euripidcm, illullravit tragcedias : una prifcam illam & ve- 
 ter^m fub Cratino, Ariftophane, & Eupolide comcediam; 
 ac novam comicam Menandrus, a?qualefqae ejus statis 
 magis quara operis, Philemon ac Diphilus, & invenere intra 
 pauciflimos annos, neque imitanda reliquere. Philofo- 
 phorum quoque ingenia, Socratico ore defiuentia, omni- 
 um, quos paullo ante enumeravimus, quanto poll Platonis 
 Ariftotelifque mortem floruere fpatio ? Quid ante Ifocratem, 
 quid poll ejus auditores, eorurnque .difcipulos, clarum in 
 oratoribus fuit ? Adeo quidem artatum anguftiis temporum, 
 ut nemo memoria dignus, alter ab aitero videri neqiiivc- 
 riat ? Neque hoc in Graecis quam in Ronaanis evenit ma- 
 gis. Nam nifi afpera ac rudia repetas, & invent! laudan- 
 da nomine, in Accio circaque eum Romana tragoedia eft; 
 dulcefque Latini leporis facetiae per Caccilium, Terentium- 
 que, & Afraniura fub pari aetate nitoerunt. Hiftoricos (ut 
 et Livium quoque priorum aetati adltruas) praeter Catonem, 
 & quofdam veteres & obfcuros,:ninus LXXX. annis circum- 
 datum tevum tulit, ut nee poetarumin antiquius citriufque 
 proceffit ubertas. At oratio, ac vis forenfvs, perfeflumque 
 profe eloquentis decus, ut idem fep arctur C..to (pace P. 
 Craffi, Scipionifque, & Laelii, & Gracchorum, & Fannii, & 
 Ser. Galbae dixerim) ita univerfa fub principe operis fui 
 erupit Tullio, ut delelari ante cum pauciiEtnis, mirari vero 
 reminem poflis, nifi aut ab-illo vifum, aut qui ilium viderit. 
 Hoc idem evenifle grammaticis, plaftis, piclorfbus, fculp- 
 toribus, quifquis temporum inftiterit noti?, repenec ; 8c 
 eminentia cujufque operis aitiffimis temporum clauftris cir- 
 cumdata. 
 
 1 fufficiently
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 383 
 
 ' fufficiently admire that the moft eminent 
 
 * wits of every profeffion mould have been 
 ' crowded into their proper clafs, and 
 c nearly within the fame limits of time ? 
 
 * As animals of a different kind, when 
 
 * fhut up in a pen, or any inclofed ground, 
 ' do neverthelefs, quitting thofe of a di- 
 ' ftincl: fpecies, herd together each in a 
 f particular body ; juft fo men, whofe ge- 
 ' nius qualified them for the nobleft pro- 
 
 * ductions, have feparated themfelves from 
 c the reft, in a manner which agrees both 
 c as to the circumftances of times and im- 
 c provements. Thus one asra, and that 
 c too circumfcribed within the fpace of not 
 c many years, by means of thofe divine 
 
 * writers, ^Efchylus, Sophocles, and Eu- 
 ' ripides, brought tragedy to perfection. 
 ' Thus under Cratinus, Ariftophanes, and 
 ' Eupolides, did another arse finim the 
 ' old comedy : and thus, within the com- 
 ' pafs of a very few years did Menander 
 c and his cotemporaries, rather than 
 c equals, Philemon and Diphilus, invent 
 
 * the new ; leaving behind them per- 
 ' formances above all imitation. How 
 c fhort a time did the philofophic wits, 
 
 * who
 
 384 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 
 ' who derived their original from Socrates, 
 
 * continue to flourim after the death of 
 ' Plato and Ariftotle ? Who before Ifo- 
 1 crates, who after his hearers and their 
 c fcholars, diftinguifhed himfelf as an ora- 
 
 * tor ? So contracted was the aera or fpace 
 ' of time, that no two deferve to be men- 
 ' tioned, who might not have feen one an- 
 
 * other. Nor was this lefs the cafe among 
 c the Romans than among the Greeks : 
 ' fince, unlefs we go back to fome rough and 
 rude performances, which have nothing 
 ' but the honour of the invention to plead ; 
 ' in Accius and his cotemporary writers is 
 ' the Roman tragedy to be found. Much a- 
 ' bout the fame time did the charming ele- 
 ' gancies of the Roman wit receive their 
 ' polim fromCaecilius,Terentius,and Afra- 
 ' nius. With regard to our hiftorians (even 
 ' if we annex Livy to the earlier clafs of 
 ' them) an sera confifting of lefs than 
 ' eighty years produced them all, except 
 ' Cato, and fome antient and obfcure ones : 
 c neither did the rich vein of our poets 
 c reach higher or lower. But oratory, the 
 f power of pleading, and the glorious per- 
 e feclion of profe eloquence, if we flill 
 
 ' except
 
 CHAP. I. EDUCATION. 385 
 ' except the fame Cato (with the leave of 
 ' Publius CrafTus, of Scipio, of Laelius, 
 e of the Gracchi, of Fannius, and of Ser- 
 ' vius Galba be it fpoken) did all fo com- 
 ' plearly burft out in the prince of his pro- 
 ' feffion, Tully, that of thofe who went 
 ' before him, very few can give you de- 
 
 * light j but you certainly can admire none 
 ' who was not either feen by him or faw 
 c him. Whoever diligently traces the 
 1 characters of time, will find that the 
 
 * fame thing has happened to grammar!* 
 ' ans, ftatuaries, painters, and iculptors j 
 c and that the meridian of every art has 
 
 * been of an extreme fhort duration. 
 ' Whilft therefore I am continually fearch- 
 c ing after the caufes why this and the pre- 
 c ceding ages have united men of the like 
 ' genius in the fame courfe of fludy and 
 ' improvement ; I find none upon the 
 ' truth of which 1 can abfolutely depend.' * 
 
 Thus, after having eftablifhed the fad, 
 
 * Hujus ergo praEcedcntifque feculi ingeniorum fimih'- 
 tudtnes congregantis, & in frudium par, & in emolumcn- 
 tum, caufas cum Temper require, nunquam rcperio quas 
 t-ffe veras conftdam. Veil. PatercuU lib. i. 
 
 C c he
 
 386 BRITISH BOOK: III. 
 he acknowleges that hedoes not know how 
 to account for it by any reafons which appear 
 to him fatisfactory. Nor indeed has this 
 problem, notwithstanding the numberlefs 
 attempts towards it, as yet met with a pro- 
 per foliation . Of all the writers upon this fub- 
 
 lect, the abbe Du Bos feems to have laboured 
 
 * 
 
 the point the moft, as he has employed the 
 greateft part of the fecond volume of his 
 Critical reflections profefledly upon that 
 head. But whoever examines what he 
 has faid, with attention, will find that he 
 has fhewn more fancy than judgement in 
 his manner of difcuffing this point, and 
 that his arguments are rather ingenious, 
 than conclufive. He himfelf indeed has 
 'offered them with great modefty, and only 
 as conjectures ; for in the introduction 
 he fays, f Whilft I have been meditating 
 ' on this fubject, a great variety of ideas 
 ' have frequently prefented themfelves to 
 my mind, which I look upon rather 
 < as fimple glimmerings, than real lights. . 
 ' . . . However, there is a fufficient air of 
 * probability in thefe ideas, to think them 
 ' worthy of entertaining my reader.' 
 Suppofc therefore an explanation of this
 
 CHAP.!. EDUCATION. 387 
 phenomenon fhould be attempted by a 
 new hypothecs, not founded on fpecula- 
 tion merely, but fads ; not fupported by 
 fpecious arguments drawn from opinions 
 and notions which are incapable of proof, 
 but from the reafon and nature of things. 
 Suppofe it be {hewn that the liberal arts, 
 whatever different courfes they might af- 
 terwards take, all had their rife from one 
 common fountain : it will no longer be a 
 matter of wonder that their ftreams mould 
 be copious, and clear, in proportion to the 
 exuberance, and purity, of their fource ; 
 nor that they mould diminim or difappear 
 as that was exhaufted or dried up. In 
 fhort, let us only fuppofe that oratory was 
 the fountain from which alone the libe- 
 ral arts flowed, and all the feeming dif- 
 ficulties and intricacies of this queftion 
 will be at once folved and explained. 
 Let us fee, in the firft place, how far this 
 hypothecs can be fupported by facts ; in 
 the next, by reafon, and the nature of 
 things. Firft, as to fads : the proof of the 
 following propofitions will be fufficient to 
 eftablifh it with refpecl to them. 
 
 [ That the liberal arts never flourifhed, 
 C c 2 'or
 
 3 88 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 ' or arrived at perfection in any country, 
 'where the ftudy and practice of oratory 
 ' was neglected. 
 
 * That in thofe countries, where the 
 ' liberal arts arrived at their higheft pitch 
 1 of glory, there were no traces of them, 
 ' previous to the fludy of oratory/ 
 
 ' That the liberal arts always followed 
 ' oratory in their progrefs towards perfec- 
 
 * tion ; arrived at their fummit foon after 
 
 * that did ; declined as that declined; and, 
 
 * when that was banifhed, wholly difap- 
 c peared.' 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 That the liberal arts never flour iflied^ or 
 
 arrived at perfection in any country^ 
 
 however otherwife remarkable for know- 
 
 lege, and ingenuity ', where the ftudy and 
 
 practice of oratory was negleffed. 
 
 ALL who are converfant in antient 
 hiftory muft know,* that amidft the 
 various accounts tranfmitted of feveral 
 flouriQiing nations, remarkable for wif- 
 dom, knowlege, and learning, diftin- 
 
 guifhed
 
 CHAP.!!. EDUCATION. 389 
 
 guimed for the cultivation of all the ufeful 
 fciences of life, there are no traces appear 
 of their having brought the politer arts 
 to any perfection : Such as the Aflyrians, 
 Perfians, Chaldeans, Carthaginians, and 
 many more. Nay even in ^gypt, and 
 Phoenicia, from which countries theGreeks 
 are allowed to have borrowed all their 
 knowlege, and {kill in other fciences, they 
 are known to have been ever in a low and 
 rude flate. The few monuments that re- 
 mained have inconteftably proved this 
 fact, as there were none, which mewed 
 marks of any tafte, but fuch as were known 
 to be the works of Grecian artifts. It is 
 an undoubted truth, that both the ./Egyp- 
 tians, and Perfians, when they fet about 
 any great work, were obliged to fend to 
 Greece for their painters and fculptors. 
 We may find in many other countries a 
 number of eminent names of great com- 
 manders, able lawgivers, wife philofo- 
 phers, ikilled in the deepeft myfteries of 
 fcience : but it is in the annals of Greece 
 and Rome alone, that we mutt look for 
 a lift of poets, hiftorjans,-painters, fculp- 
 tors, and muficians. Nor has all anti- 
 C c ^ cjuity
 
 390 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 quity furnifhed us with a {ingle inftance 
 of any excellent performance in any of 
 thofe arts, which was not the production 
 of fome genius either born or bred in one 
 of thofe two countries. And here let it 
 be remembered, that it was in thofe two 
 countries alone that oratory was ever ftudi- 
 ed and practifcd as an art. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Vbat in fbofi countries where tie liberal 
 arts arrived at their bigheft pitch of 
 glory, there were no traces oftbem y pr- 
 vious to the jludy of oratory. 
 
 IN Greece, where all thefe arts feem 
 to have had their firft birth, at leaft 
 in any maturity, we can not trace any 
 memorials of them previous to the infti- 
 tution of oratory. The firft works of any 
 mafter which have been handed down to 
 us, were thofe of Homer ; and as Cicero 
 has juftly obferved, it is apparent from 
 thofe very works that eloquence had been 
 
 in
 
 CHAP.!!!. EDUCATION. 391 
 
 in high repute long before his time. So 
 that tho' we can not fix the precife date 
 of the firft rife of oratory amongft them, 
 yet we have a moral certainty that it 
 preceded that of the other liberal arts. 
 In Rome we can not be at a lofs to fix 
 the exact asra of both. We know that, 
 previous to the introduction of the ftudy 
 of eloquence, which happened a little be- 
 fore the time of Scipio and Laelius, their 
 tafte for poetry, painting, mufick, &c. 
 was as rude and barbarous as in the moft 
 uncultivated nations ; nor did there ever 
 arife amongft them, before that period, 
 one mafter of eminence in any of thofe 
 arts, nor was there produced one com- 
 pofition in any kind worthy to be pre- 
 ferved and tranfmitted to pofterity. Tho' 
 it is well known, that in lefs than fourfcore 
 years after the inftitution of oratory a* 
 mongft them, all thofe arts, together 
 with eloquence, gradually arofe to their 
 higheft fummit ; infomuch that Rome 
 might almoft vie even with Greece, in 
 point of the number of excellent artifts, as 
 well as in the perfection of their feveral 
 kinds of works. 
 
 C c 4 CHAP.
 
 392 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 7/ ~at the liberal art 3 always Jollowed oratory 
 in their pr ogre fs towards perfection ; ar- 
 rived at their fummit foon after that 
 did-, declined as that declined - y and, when 
 that was banijked, wholly dijappeared. 
 
 IT was in the age of Pericles and De- 
 mofthenes that oratory was brought 
 to it's higheft pitch in Greece ; and we 
 find that all the great matters in the fe- 
 veral arts, whofe works have gained to 
 them immortal fame, and have ever fince 
 been the admiration of the world, were 
 their cotemporaries. What an amazing 
 number of poets and other writers ftarted 
 up and flourished together during that 
 fmall fpace ? ./Efchylus, Sophocles, and 
 Euripides, in tragedy : Ariftophanes, Eu^ 
 polis, Cratinus, and Menander, in comedy : 
 Herodotus, Thucydides, Ifocrates, Xeno- 
 phon, Plato, and Ariftotle, in profe : be*- 
 fides many others of great name, whofe 
 works have unfortunately perimed. The 
 fame fpace of time produced Zeuxis, Apel^ 
 
 les,
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 393 
 
 les, Aglaophon, and many more, in the 
 art of painting : Phidias, Praxiteles, Ly- 
 fippus, Myro, Polycletus, in ftatuary and 
 fculpture. Then alfo arofe all her great 
 muficians, whofe names only are handed 
 down to us, as their works have periflied. 
 But with the life of Demofthenes ended 
 the liberties of Greece j oratory became 
 mute, and the arts vanifhed. 
 
 Nothing can ferve more ftrongly to 
 illuftrate and prove the point propofed, 
 than to obferve the amazing fimilarity 
 which there was between the fate of the 
 arts, in Rome, and in Greece. It was in 
 the time of Hortenilus and * Cicero that 
 oratory reached it's fummit ; and the fame 
 aera gave birth to all the admired artifts 
 of Rome. During that period flourifhed, 
 or were trained up, all their great poets; 
 Lucretius, Virgil, Horace, Propertius, Ca- 
 tullus', Tibullus, Ovid, Pha^drus, Corne- 
 lius Gallus, and many more, equally ad- 
 mired in thofe times, tho' their works did 
 
 * Quicquid Romana facundia habet, quod infolenti 
 Graecire aut opponat, aut przeferat, circa Ciceronem ef- 
 fioiuit. Omnia ingenia qua? luceni ftudiis noftris attule- 
 runt tune natafunt. In deterius deinde quoudie data res 
 eft . M. Ann. Sencc. contro. 1. i.
 
 394 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 not happen to efcape the devaftations of 
 barbarians ; fuch as Fundanius, Pollio, and 
 Varius, whofe merits we can not doubt 
 of, when celebrated by the candid and ju- 
 dicious Horace. At that time arofe Julius 
 Caefar, Livy, Salluft, &c. Then it was 
 that Rome produced her Vitruvius, and 
 all her eminent painters and fculptors. 
 But after that, in Rome, as in Greece, 
 with the lofs of liberty, oratory declined, 
 the arts drooped together with eloquence, 
 and gradually funk away. It may be here 
 objected, that it was in the reign of Au- 
 guftus, after the form of government had 
 been changed, that the arts appeared in 
 their highefl luftre at Rome. But in an- 
 fvver to this let it be obferved, that the 
 artifts themfelves were all bred up during 
 the moil remarkable period of the r epublick 
 whofe lafl blaze was it's brighteft : at a 
 time when all the faculties of the greateft 
 minds were exerted to the utmoft in de- 
 fence of expiring liberty : when a Cato 
 or a Brutus found proper opportunities to 
 difplay that fuperior magnanimity, which 
 has ever fince rendered them objects of 
 admiration to the whole world : when 
 
 Cicejo
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 395 
 Cicero found fubjeds adequate to his 
 mighty talents, and when oratory {hone 
 out from it's full meridian, and the ftudy 
 of eloquence was univerfal. As there 
 could not poffibly have been a more happy 
 juncture for the raifing and cultivation of 
 early genius, fo the feafon that fucceeded 
 was of all others the beft fitted to make 
 it flourim and produce fruit. The long 
 and peaceable reign of Auguftus, his great 
 liberality, and nice difcernment, together 
 with that of his minifter, in rewarding 
 merit, mufl have made every artift exert 
 his talents to the utmoft. But tho' this 
 due encouragement produced fuch won- 
 ders in the works of thofe who had been 
 already formed, yet it had not power to 
 raife any new ones. Nor was there after- 
 wards a fingle inftance of any mafterly 
 performance, which was the work of a 
 perfon born and bred up during his reign, 
 or thofe of his fucceflbrs ; the beft of them 
 being only copies of thofe great originals: 
 A plain and demonftrative proof, that the 
 fountain which nurfed and invigorated 
 thofe great geniufes was dried up. If 
 a concurrence of moral caufes could 
 
 have
 
 396 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 have been able to have raifed the arts from 
 their feeds to maturity, there never had 
 been a period which promifed fo plenti- 
 ful a crop. And tho' it may be faid, that 
 the tempeftuous weather dr. ng the cruel 
 and bloody reigns of Nero and lome of 
 his fucceflbrs, might for a time have 
 blighted and flopped their growth, yet 
 what caufe can be afligned that they 
 did not revive and flourim under the fet- 
 tled calm, warm funfhine, and genial 
 ikies, of five fuch fucceffive reigns as 
 thofe of Nerva, Trajan, Adrian, Antoninus 
 Pius, and Marcus Aurelius ? 
 
 When we confider that, previous to the 
 perfection of orators in Greece, there was 
 no inftance of any excellent performance 
 in any of the liberal arts, the works of 
 Homer alone excepted ; and that in Rome 
 there was not one example : that, after the 
 abolition of oratory in both countries, 
 there never was any thing mafterly pro- 
 duced in either : when we reflect, that the 
 liberal arts never rofe to any height in any 
 country of the globe where oratory was 
 not ftudied and praclifed j and that, in thofe 
 countries where oratory was cultivated, 
 
 they
 
 CHAP. IV. EDUCATION. 397 
 they grew and flouriflied, declined and 
 perimed as that did j we can not but con- 
 clude that there muft be a near and inti-. 
 mate connexion between them, and that 
 the one has a neceiTary dependence upon 
 the other. 
 
 From the above flate of the cafe one of 
 the two following conclufions muft evi- 
 dently be deduced ; either, e that the per- 
 4 fe<5tion of oratory was the caufe of the 
 * perfection of the liberal arts ; or, that 
 ' the perfection of the liberal arts was the 
 c caufe of the perfection of oratory/ The 
 former opinion feems to be fupported by 
 fact, as it has been clearly {hewn that the 
 rife of oratory was always previous to that 
 of the arts : let us now fee how it can be 
 maintained and confirmed from the realbn 
 and nature of things. In order to do this, 
 I mail firft endeavour to mew, that this 
 opinion is founded upon the higheft de- 
 gree of probability; by making it appear 
 that it was much more eafy for oratory, 
 and by means more natural, to raife and 
 fupport the liberal arts, thn that the libe- 
 ral arts mould have power to raife and 
 fupport oratory. In the fecond place ,1 
 
 mail
 
 398 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 {hall endeavour to eftablifh it upon certain 
 proof, that it is almoft impoflible that thole 
 arts mould arrive at perfection without the 
 aid and affiftance of oratory. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 It h much more probable that oratory 
 raifed and fupported the liberal arfs, than 
 that the liberal arts raifed and fupported 
 oratory. 
 
 EVERY one, who at all confiders 
 the point, muft at once fee, that in 
 oratory alone are contained the principles 
 of all the other arts ; and that to form a 
 compleat orator, the talents of a poet, 
 painter, and mufician, are abfolutely ne- 
 cefTary : fo that the perfection of that one 
 art, would of courfe afford fupplies to the 
 others, and bring them to maturity. 
 Whereas, on a contrary principle, oratory 
 muft wait for it's perfection, 'till each of 
 the other arts had reached theirs, and flou- 
 rifhed all together : a circumftance not 
 very likely to happen, as they have by no 
 
 means
 
 CHAP. V. EDUCATION. $09 
 
 means fo near a connection with each 
 other (tho' fomewhat allied) that the pro- 
 grefs of the one mould of courfe introduce 
 that of the other. Fruftra Jit per phtra 
 quod fieri poteft per pauciora t is an un- 
 doubted axiom. And furely it is more 
 rational to account for different effec~ts 
 from the energy of one caufe, if they may 
 be allowed naturally to flow from it, than 
 to attribute one effect to the united power 
 of various caufes, which have no necefTary 
 union amongft themfelves. The variety 
 of colours is much more eafily accounted 
 for, by fuppofingthat they refidein the rays 
 of light (which has indeed been proved) 
 than in the feveral objects. And this method 
 of reafoning muft ever be allowed to be 
 the moft probable, when not contradicted 
 by fads. But there is alfo another ar- 
 gument to be drawn in fupport of this opi- 
 nion, from the very nature of thefe arts,and 
 the manner in which they operate, that 
 will amount to fomething equivalent to 
 proof. All arts are accomplimed and ended 
 either in a work, or an energy. A work 
 is that whofe parts are co-exiftent, and the 
 perfection of whofe cffence depends upon 
 
 their
 
 4 oo B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 their remaining in the fame ftate. An 
 energy is that whofe parts exift only in 
 fuccefiion, and which hath it's very being 
 in tranfition. Thus a ftatue and a picture 
 are works, as are alfo a poem and a mu- 
 fical compofition, when reduced to writing 
 and notes, as their parts in that cafe be- 
 come co-exiftent and fixed. But dancing, 
 playing on any inftrument, and fpeaking 
 or reciting, are only energies. Hence it 
 will follow, when the production of any 
 art is an energy, that the perfection of the 
 art can be only perceived during that 
 energy, and muft alfo of neceflity be co- 
 eval with the artift. Thus the delicate 
 touches and mafterly hand of a mufical 
 performer can be only perceived during 
 the action of his playing, mud end when 
 that ceafes, and neceflarily finifti with his 
 life. Thus alfo the animated looks, en- 
 forcing gefture, and expreffive tones of 
 the orator, can be known only to his im- 
 mediate fpectators and hearers; and, except 
 fuch part of them as is imprefled on the 
 memories of thofe, mufl neceffarily perifli 
 with himfelf. But the cafe is quite other- 
 wife in regard to works, the perfection of 
 
 which
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 401 
 which is hot vifible during the energy, but 
 only after it. It is not 'till the painter, 
 the ftatuary, and the poet, have put their 
 laft hand to their pieces, that they are faid 
 to be finiflied, or their full beauty per- 
 ceived. After that, they have no con- 
 nection with the fate of the artift, but may 
 remain to perpetuity when he himfelf is 
 no more. When this confederation has 
 had it's due weight, upon a fuppofition 
 that the liberal arts borrowed their aids 
 and fupplies from oratory, we {hall no 
 longer be at a lofs for a reafon why there 
 were no more excellent artifts to be found 
 in any of thofe, when there were no longer 
 any good orators fubfifting. But on the 
 contrary fuppofition, that oratory drew it's 
 fupplies from the liberal arts, there can be 
 no reafon afligned why many excellent 
 orators might not at any time have arifen, 
 lince the compofitions, and works, of the 
 feveral artifts ftill remained in equal per- 
 fection, and confequently equally capable 
 of affording them all proper lights and 
 alTiftance. But why mould we fuppofe 
 that thefe feveral works fhould be able to 
 D d produce
 
 4 02 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 produce great matters in a diftinct art, 
 when they were not capable of railing any 
 in their own feveral kinds ? It would be 
 more natural to think that a number of 
 excellent compofitions in poetry, mufick, 
 and painting, mould ferve as models to 
 form good poets, mafters of mufick, and 
 painters, each being wholly employed in 
 the ftudy and practice of his own art, 
 than that nniihed orators fhould be pro- 
 duced from the difficult and laborious 
 ftudy of all three ; and yet we find that 
 they were far from being equal even to 
 this. Seneca, who wrote in the reign im- 
 mediately fucceeding that of Auguftus, 
 complains heavily of the great depravity 
 . of tafte, and vifible decay in all the arts : 
 and Quinclilian, fixty years after the de- 
 ceafe of that prince, wrote an exprefs trea- 
 tife on the caufes of the decay of Roman 
 eloquence. He has alfo fhewn us in ma- 
 ny places, that the other arts were equally 
 in a low ftate. Since therefore we find 
 it indubitably proved that the arts always 
 rofe, flourished, and declined with ora- 
 tory, why may we not conclude with 
 
 con-
 
 CHAP.V. EDUCATION. 403 
 confidence, that it was from oratory alone 
 that they all drew their fupplies ? Bat 
 as it may be faid that all which has been 
 advanced upon this fubject will at moft 
 only amount to a ftrongprefumptive proof, 
 J mail now endeavour to mew, that it is 
 almoft impoffible for the liberal arts to 
 reach perfection, or flourifh to any great 
 degree, without the aid of oratory, and the 
 fupplies which they draw from thence. In 
 order to do this it will be neceffary to 
 trace the principles upon which the per- 
 fection of thofe arts is founded. Let us 
 therefore take a furvey of poetry, mufick, 
 and painting, with this view; lince what- 
 ever relates to fculpture and ftatuary will 
 come under the laft head. 
 
 d 2 CHAP.
 
 404 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of Poetry, Mufick, andPainting> and their 
 Source. 
 
 THESE arts are all founded upon 
 one common principle, which is 
 imitation. They differ from each other 
 only in the fubjects which they are feve- 
 rally capable of imitating, and in the in- 
 flruments, or ;;W/W,made ufe of to difplay 
 .that power. Painting, for inftance, can 
 imitate only thro* the media of figure and 
 colour, and is therefore confined to fuch 
 iubjects as are peculiarly charadterifed by 
 thofe. Mufick, for the fame reafon, is li- 
 mited to fuch only as depend upon motion 
 and found : whilft poetry, working by 
 the medium of words, which by compact 
 iland for fymbols of all our ideas, can 
 imitate as far as language can exprefsj and 
 that in a manner includes all things. 
 
 As the fundamental point in all thefc 
 arts is imitation, it is evident that, with- 
 out that, they can have no merit, or ra- 
 ther indeed can not fubliit. But the moil: 
 
 perfect
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCAflON. 405 
 perfect imitation in the world is not of it- 
 felf fufficient to flamp a value upon a 
 work, which muft ever be confidered with 
 relation to the fubject or thing imitated, 
 and be rated in proportion to the merit of 
 that. For tho' the chief object of the artifl 
 himfelf be imitation, and he has certainly 
 arrived at perfection in every work, where 
 he has been able to produce an exact re- 
 femblance, yet the world, who are to rate 
 the merit of the piece, will not confine 
 themfelves merely to the ikill of the artift, 
 but will take into the value circumftances 
 of delight, and profit, which arife from 
 qualities inherent in the original fubject. 
 Hence it is plain, that in all thefe arts there 
 is an abfolute and relative perfection. The 
 abfolute depends upon the exact fimilitude 
 of the copy to the original, of whatever 
 kind it be 5 the relative, upon the choice 
 of the fubject, as well as accurate refem- 
 blance. As the lafl is that which afcer- 
 tains the value of works, it is therefore 
 chiefly to be attended to by all artifts. 
 
 The great ends of all thefe arts, being the 
 fame with thole of oratory, viz. * to de- 
 Might, to move, and to inftruct,' (under- 
 D d 3 which
 
 406 B R 1 r I S H BOOK III. 
 which laft head I include every thing 
 which tends to better the heart as well as 
 to improve the underftanding) thefe points 
 Should be conflantly kept in view both in 
 the choice of fubjecls, and in the manner 
 of handling them. Whence it muft fol- 
 low, that all fubjects for imitation taken 
 from human nature, and all means to dif- 
 play them borrowed from that, muft with 
 mankind obtain a preference, and have a 
 flronger influence than from the whole 
 univerfe betides. Nature itfelf has im- 
 planted in us a particular attraction to our 
 own fpecies, which is vifible in all animals ; 
 and endued the heart with a kind of in- 
 ftructive feniibility to certain founds and 
 tones, as well as looks and geftures, which 
 have a natural expreffion in them, inde- 
 pendent of words, and which may be 
 confidered as 'the univerfal language of 
 the paflions, equally underftood by all 
 the different nations of the earth. No- 
 thing therefore can delight or move the 
 heart of man fo much as a lively re- 
 prefentation of the actions and fufferings 
 of others, arifing from qualities to which 
 he finds fornething congenial in himfclf. 
 
 And
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 407 
 
 And what inftruction can be of fuch ad- 
 vantage to him, as that which improves 
 him in the knowlege of human nature, 
 the ufe whereof he muft daily and hourly 
 experience in every action of his life ? 
 
 We find that by common confent man- 
 kind have agreed to rate the value of 
 works by this ftandard. Thus the epick 
 and dramatick poetry have obtained the 
 firfl place in preference to the lyrick, epi- 
 grammatick, and all writings of wit and 
 fancy. Thus the hiftory painter has an 
 allowed fuperiority over thofe who draw 
 landfcapes, animals, flowers, and the 
 whole tribe of inanimate beings. In mu- 
 fick alfo, they who make ufe of that art, 
 as an adjunct to poetry, and by that means 
 make it capable of moving the pafTions, 
 and of imprelTing fentiments more ftrong- 
 ly on the mind, are preferred to thofe 
 whofe competitions only ferve to pleafe 
 the ear, or charm the fancy. In this all 
 fo the human voice is confelTedly preemi- 
 nent over all mufical inilruments, whofe 
 power of moving and pleating the heart 
 and ear, is in proportion to their near re- 
 icmblance to that. 
 
 Dd 4 We
 
 4'o8 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 We find alfo, that amongft the matters 
 in the feveral imitative arts, who chufc 
 human nature for their object, there 
 is a diftinclion of rank in proportion to the 
 dignity and importance of their fubjecls. 
 Thus the writer of epick poetry, who 
 relates the actions of kings and heroes, 
 and difplays all the more elevated and fub- 
 lirne qualities of the human mind, toge- 
 ther with the more exalted and noble paf- 
 fions, is placed at a great diftance above 
 the writers of paftorals and elegies. For 
 the fame reaibn the tragick poet is prefer- 
 ed to the comick. Thus the painter of 
 famous and remarkable historical actions 
 is in higher eftimation, than he who is 
 only employed about portraits, or con- 
 verfation pieces in common life. And 
 thus the compofers of operas, mafques, 
 oratorio's, &c. are of an higher order, 
 than they who only fet fmgle fongs, can- 
 tatas, or dialogues, to mufick. This being 
 premifed, let us now examine the points 
 which are necefTary to enable each artill 
 in his feveral way, to arrive at the higheft 
 
 degree of perfection whereof his art is 
 
 LI 
 capable.
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 409 
 
 capable, and to be ranked in the foremoit 
 clafs. 
 
 To the completion of an artift, four 
 things are chiefly neceffary, genius, ap- 
 plication, proper fubjedts, and fuitable 
 inftruments to work with. Suppofing 
 therefore an equality as to the two firft re- 
 quifites, in perfons born in different coun- 
 tries or ages, let us fee how far their 
 works will be affected, and rife up to, or 
 fall fhort of perfection, in proportion to 
 their opportunities of being fupplied with 
 the latter. 
 
 All imitation neceffarily fuppofes a fub- 
 ject, or thing imitated, and mufl there- 
 fore be ever confidered with relation to 
 that ; otherwife it changes it's nature, and 
 lofes it's very effence. 
 
 The perfection of imitation confifts in 
 the exactnefs of fimilitude to the thing 
 imitated. Whence it evidently follows that 
 it muft partake of all the good and bad 
 qualities of it's fubject; that it muft be 
 beautiful, or deformed, give pleafure, or 
 difguft, in proportion as that would. 
 
 As all tranfcripts are formed from im- 
 preffions made on the imagination, the 
 
 ftronger
 
 4io BRITISH BOOK III. 
 ftronger thofe impreffions arc, the more 
 lively and fimilar will the tranfcripts be. 
 Now nothing contributes fo much to the 
 flrength of impreffions as the frequent and 
 reiterated action of the objects upon the 
 fcnfes, thro' which they are ftamped on 
 the imagination, and fink deeper at every 
 new flroke. As their fimilitude depends 
 much upon this, fo the beauty of their 
 form, and the fymmetry of their parts in 
 the copies, mud ever be determined by 
 thofe qualities in the originals. Whence 
 we muft conclude, that all fuch artifts. 
 (fuppofing an equality of genius and 
 application) as have the mofl frequent 
 opportunities of feeing and examining 
 the heft and mod perfect fubjects, will 
 neceflarily produce works of the ftrongeft . 
 refemblance, and greatefl excellence. 
 
 Here it is to be obferved, that I fpeak 
 all along of real artifls, whofe works are 
 an immediate tranfcript from nature, and 
 are therefore dignified with the name of 
 originals, in contradiftinction to the mecha- 
 nical labours of copyifts, who content 
 themfelves with a fervile imitation of the 
 manner of thofe matters j and whofe 
 
 productions,
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 411 
 
 productions, as they do not proceed from 
 a warm imagination ftrongly imprefTed by 
 the energetick power of nature, but from 
 a cold obfervation of artificial rules ; fo, 
 tho' they may be poiTeffed even of a fcru- 
 pulous iimilarity, and raife analogous ideas, 
 yet they are deprived of all power of 
 moving and affecting. The imprefiions 
 made by them laft no longer than whilfl 
 they are feen, in the fame manner as a 
 man views his own image exactly difplayed 
 in a mirror, but <when he goeth away,ftraight- 
 way forgetteth what manner of man be is. 
 
 After the fubjects, the next things 
 which come to be confidered are the in- 
 ftruments,or media, by means whereof the 
 images and ideas which are in the brain of 
 the artift are fubmitted to the fenfes of 
 others ; and without which he can do no- 
 thing. Here it muft at once be evident, 
 that the fkill of the artift muft appear 
 in a greater or lefs degree in proportion 
 to the degrees of perfection in his inftru- 
 ments, and aptitude to their end. For 
 whatever ideas he may have himfelf, he 
 can not communicate any beyond what is 
 in the power of thofe mftruments to 
 
 mew.
 
 O IT 
 
 412 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 (hew. Thus in poetry, a writer can not 
 compofe harmonious verfes in a language 
 of which the words have a difcordant and 
 diiagreeable found : the painter who has but 
 a few colours, muft be confined only to 
 fuch objects as they are capable of repre- 
 fenting : and the mufician muft be re- 
 trained in his competitions to fuch notes 
 as are within the compafs of hisinftrument. 
 Hence it will follow, that a poet who 
 writes in a language well adapted to po- 
 etical numbers, muft have an advantage 
 over one who has a diflbnant and unplea- 
 fant tongue to ftruggle with : that a 
 painter who has the art of blending co- 
 lours, fo as to form as great a variety as 
 are to be found in the works of nature, 
 has a much larger field to difplay his ta- 
 lents in, than he who is confined to a 
 few : and that the mufical compofer may 
 (hew infinite powers in his art by means of 
 inftruments of proper force and compafs, 
 which can not be at all difplayed by one 
 whofe inftruments are poor and confined. 
 Let us now apply thefe rules to the fe- 
 veral imitative arts ; from which it will 
 appear, that the mafters in thofe., whofe 
 
 chief
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 413 
 
 chief bufmefs it is to give a lively and 
 beautiful reprefen.tation of human nature, 
 in it's moft exalted and graceful point of 
 view, muft of neceffity have had the 
 higheft advantage, by means of living in 
 thofe countries, and in thofe periods of 
 time, when oratory was at it's height, 
 over all other artifts in the world, of every 
 other age and country. And we ihali 
 fee the reafon why it is almoft impofiible 
 that perfect tranfcripts of that kind could 
 have been produced at any other juncture, 
 thro' the want of proper fubjects, or fuit- 
 able inftruments. 
 
 And firft as to poetry. The inftru- 
 ment of the poets is language, and their 
 works muft be proportionably perfect, or 
 defective, as that is. In regard to this 
 point, we have already (hewn, both from 
 fact, and the reafon of things, that the 
 fludy and practice of oratory alone could 
 bring language to perfection. It was to the 
 orators therefore that the poets of all de- 
 nominations were obliged for the ufe and 
 improvement of an inftrument perfectly 
 adapted to all their feveral purpofes ; as 
 Veil as for inftructions in the ar.t of manag- 
 ing
 
 4 i4 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 ing it with cafe and dexterity. But the epick 
 and tragick writers, in whofe works the dig- 
 nity of human nature was to be difplayed, as 
 well as all the more exalted paffions and 
 affections, mud have been chiefly indebt- 
 ed to them for the principal excellence of 
 their art. Their great ends are, to move, 
 to delight, to inftrucl ; and from whom 
 could they learn the power of all this fo 
 effectually as from the orator, who mud 
 fo far fail of his point, as he falls fhort in 
 any of thofe ends, and whofe conftant 
 practice pointed out the means by which 
 thofe were to be attained ? Where could 
 they have jfuch opportunities of drawing 
 the paffions from the life, as in thofe af- 
 femblies where they were perpetually to 
 be feen both in their caufes and effects ? 
 From what fchool could they learn the 
 art of giving fuitable fentiments, proper 
 diction, and becoming deportment to their 
 exalted characters, which they could have 
 
 J 
 
 but few opportunities of obferving in lifej 
 fo well as that of oratory, where they 
 might fee men of the moft elevated geni- 
 us difplaying all the higheft faculties of 
 the mind, upon the rnoft important fub- 
 
 jects?
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 415 
 jects ? Where they had conftant models 
 before them of the moft animated nature, 
 under the guidance of the beft regulated 
 art ? It is eafy to fee how much all writers 
 in profe, whether of hiftory, or any thing 
 elfe relative to human affairs, muft have 
 been indebted to that for the ornamental 
 parts of their works, as this is vifible 
 enough in the many excellent orations to 
 be found in the antient writers. 
 
 Secondly, as to rnuiick. The great end 
 and ufe of mufick is to move, and by Pur- 
 ring the paffions to give delight. For con- 
 fidered as a mere fenfual gratification, it is 
 of no fort of benefit, and it's efFecft is to the 
 laft degree transient. It was to anfwer 
 the former purpofe, that the antients em- 
 ployed their whole {kill in that art. They 
 confidered it therefore chiefly as an affift- 
 ant to poetry, and in the conftruction of 
 their inftruments they had that point 
 principally in view. As an adjunct to 
 poetry, it's great force muft depend 
 upon expreilion : and expreffion muft be 
 borrowed from the various founds and tones 
 which nature has annexed to the various 
 paffions 3' but ftill under the regulation of 
 
 art
 
 4 i6 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 art as to the proper proportions and de- 
 grees fuited to the occafion. The human 
 voice, or the inftruments which approach- 
 ed nearefl to it, were of courfe the mod 
 capable of producing this effect. From 
 whom therefore could the mufical com- 
 pofer acquire fuch fkill in this refpect as 
 from the orator, to whom it was abfo- 
 lutely neceiTary that he fhould be able to 
 exprefs all the different paffions in their 
 natural and fuitable tones and founds ? 
 And how finely and properly mud: thefe 
 have come prepared to the compofer, 
 when heard from the tuneful and well- 
 modulated voice of a finimed fpeaker ? It 
 was from this example that the mufician 
 learned the complete management of his 
 art, as defcribed by Quinclilian. Namque 
 & wee & modulatione grandia elate > jucun- 
 da dulciter, moderata leniter canit y totdque 
 arte conjentit cum eorum^ qua dicuntur^ 
 affettibus. With fuch aids and fuch fub- 
 jeclis for imitation, we need no longer 
 wonder at the amazing effects which are 
 recorded to have been produced by antient 
 mufick, nor the extraordinary power 
 which it had over the paffions : a power 
 
 equal
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 417 
 
 equal (if we may believe the concurrent 
 teftimony of many hiftorians, and other 
 writers) to the fancied defcription of it 
 in Dryden's ode. Nor fhall we be at a lofs 
 to account for this, when we consider the 
 mighty force of oratorial expreflion alone: 
 what then muft it be, when conveyed to 
 the heart with all the fuperadded powers 
 and charms of mufick ? No perfon of 
 fenfibility, who has had the good fortune 
 to hear Mrs Gibber (ing in the oratorio of 
 the Meffiah, will find it very difficult 
 to give credit to accounts of the moft 
 wonderful effects produced from fo pow- 
 erful an union. And yet it was not to 
 any extraordinary powers of voice (where- 
 of {he has but a very moderate (hare) nor 
 to a greater degree of fkill in mufkk 
 (wherein many of the Italians muft be 
 allowed to exceed her) that (he owed her 
 excellence, but to expreffion only ; her 
 acknowleged fuperiority in which could 
 proceed from nothing but fkill in her 
 profeffion. What has been faid. may 
 ferve clearly to point out the reafon 
 why the mufick of the antients was upon, 
 the whole far fuperior to that of the 
 moderns, notwithstanding it muft be 
 E e granted
 
 4i8 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 granted that our inftruments have 
 great advantages over theirs, and that our 
 mufick, confidered as a fingle and diftinct 
 fcience, has been carried to a much higher 
 pitch of perfection than probably it ever 
 was amongft them. The chief end which 
 the antients had in view, was it's utility 
 in ftirring the paffions, rouzing the affec- 
 tions, and giving them a proper direction. 
 This could never effectually be accom- 
 plimed but by making it an adjunct to 
 poetry j and as an adjunct to poetry it muft 
 obtain it's chief force from expreffion, 
 it's chief delight from melody. The com- 
 pletion of their whole point was therefore 
 finifhed in the accomplifhment of thofe 
 two j and this being their fummum, they 
 feldom turned their thoughts to confider 
 how far the powers of mufick might be 
 carried as a feparate art. But the cafe of 
 the moderns was quite otherwife. With 
 the fprings of oratory was alfo dried up 
 the fource of expreffion in this art when 
 ufed as an ally to poetry. As, they found 
 it jmpoffible therefore to arrive at any 
 great degree of excellence in that refpect, 
 they changed their object, and employed 
 their whole thoughts in confidering it's 
 
 feparate
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 419 
 feparate powers, and their labours, in en- 
 deavouring to bring it to the: higheft de- 
 gree of perfection, of which in it's own 
 nature it was fingly capable. Vith this 
 view they applied themfelves affiduoufly 
 to the improvement of the old, and the in- 
 vention of new inftruments, which might 
 be capable of difplaying the whole powers 
 and variety of harmony : and their works 
 have chiefly tended fince to difplay the 
 whole powers, and variety of thofe inftru^ 
 ments. In this refpect they have perhaps 
 gone as great lengths, and accomplished 
 their point as effectually, as the antients 
 did theirs. But if to move the paflions, 
 and thereby to better the heart, be an 
 end in itfelf of more ufe and importance* 
 than merely to gratify the ear or amufe the 
 fancy, the antient muiick muft furely be 
 of a fuperior rank to the modern. To be 
 convinced of this, we need only con- 
 fider the effects which are naturally pro- 
 duced by the two different kinds. The 
 beft mufical imitation can of itfelf only 
 excite ideas fimilar and analogous to fuch 
 as are in the mind of the compofer, and 
 which are as evanefcent as the founds 
 E e 2 which
 
 420 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 which excite them : nor can it's effect 
 be at all greater or more durable in moving 
 the paffions. But when it is annexed to 
 poetry, the ideas raifed by it are exactly 
 the fame, and are fixed on the memory 
 by permanent marks : the paffions alfo 
 are not only rouzed and put in motion, 
 but acquire duration by being aflbciated to 
 the images of poetry, and are directed to 
 proper ends by the fentiments. Indeed 
 the natural fuperiority of this kind of mu- 
 iick over the other can not be more fully 
 proved than by the general preference 
 which it has obtained amongft us, even 
 in it's very imperfect and defective flate. 
 The inftrumental mufick is univerfally 
 held in lower eftimation than the vocal, 
 notwithstanding that the compofitions ia 
 the former muft be allowed to be more 
 perfect in their kind, and it muft be grant- 
 ed that the mailers have attained their 
 end more completely than in the latter. 
 The imperfection of the modern vocal 
 mufick clearly arifes from a want of pro- 
 per expreffion : nor fhall we have caufe 
 to wonder _that this defect is fo general 
 we confider that, in order to be able 
 
 to
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 421 
 
 to produce that, a compofer mould 
 completely understand the whole art 
 of eloquence. For how fhould he be 
 able to give the proper cadence to 
 words by means of mufical notes, or an- 
 nex fuitable founds expreffive of the 
 paflions, who does not know how to lay 
 the right emphafis in reading or repeat- 
 ing thofe very words, or to enforce the 
 fentiments by the natural tones of voice ? 
 The total and general want of fkill in that 
 art, has been the caufe that the compofers 
 of vocal mufick have been under a neceffity 
 of giving up what ought to be their chief 
 object, and of making their end the fame 
 with that of the inftrumental. They con- 
 fider the human voice therefore in the 
 light merely of an inftrument, and em- 
 ploy their whole art and fkill only in 
 mewing the compafs and various inflec- 
 tions of that, and content themfelves with 
 the fuperiority which the mere powers of 
 the organ, together with the natural energy 
 of it's operations upon the kindred fenfes 
 of the hearers, give to their works, pre- 
 ferable to thofe which are difplayed by 
 artificial inftruments. So that both kinds 
 E e 3 of
 
 422 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 of mufick have now one common objeft, 
 that of charming the ear, and amufing 
 the fancy; and the fuperiority of the one 
 over the other has only refulted from it's 
 natural qualities, and fitnefs to anfwer 
 thofe ends. The neceffity brought upon 
 the compofer of vocal mufick of changing 
 his object, and making his end the fame 
 with that of the inftrumental, may be 
 made fufliciently apparent from a due 
 confideration of the following circum- 
 ftance. Let us fuppofe a matter were 
 to arife, who with immenfe pains mould 
 make himfelf well ikilled in exprelTion, 
 and in all his compofitions fhould confi- 
 der that as the chief point ; would not all 
 his labours be fruitlefs, unlefs he could 
 find performers equally well Ikilled in 
 that art with himfelf ? For if the fingers 
 were not able to enter into the fpirit of the 
 work, and to produce the whole force of 
 expreflion according to the defign of the 
 artift, the compolition muft fail of it's 
 great end, that of moving the heart. 
 When that end is mified, the chief excel- 
 lence of the work is of courfe not per- 
 ceived, and in this cafe nothing remains 
 
 to
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 423 
 
 to be confidered but it's other qualities, of 
 pleafing the ear and flattering the imagi- 
 nation. In thefe refpefts, as it mufl 
 neceflarily be much confined, and circum- 
 fcribed in narrow bounds, by the main 
 object, when it comes to be compared 
 with compofitions where the full reins 
 are given to fancy, it muft appear infinitely 
 inferior, and be rated accordingly. Of 
 this we have a remarkable inftance in the 
 works of the greateft mufical genius that 
 this country has produced. Purcel, tho 1 
 not the inventor of the Englifh mufick, 
 yet was the great improver of it ; 
 and had it been cultivated with care 
 fince his time, we might perhaps claim a 
 fuperiority over all the moderns. He 
 clearly faw that the chief objed: of 
 vocal mufick ought to be expreffion. This 
 was therefore what he principally attend- 
 ed to in his compofitions, and he carried 
 the point much farther than could have 
 been expected from the weak lights and 
 afiiftances which he met with in thofe 
 times. Had he lived in the illuftrious 
 ages of old Greece or Rome, it is more 
 than probable, from the immenfity of his 
 E e 4 genius^
 
 4 2 4 B R I T-2 S H BOOK III. 
 genius, and the aids and advantages which 
 he might have had then to improve it to 
 the utmoft, that he might have been 
 ranked amongft their foremoft artiils. Du- 
 ring his life, the beauty of his works 
 might have been perceived, and his repu- 
 tation proportionably raifed, as he had an 
 opportunity of instructing the performers, 
 viva wee, in the manner of finging them 
 according to their true fpirit. But fince his 
 death, by means of a total ignorance in. the 
 fingers as to the article of exprefiion, they 
 Jiave gradually funk away in their eftimation, 
 and are now almoft buried in oblivion. In 
 a century or two more, unlefs a true tafte 
 mould revive, they will probably be 
 wholly obliterated, and the memorial of 
 them remain no more upon earth. The 
 fame caufe may ferve fully to account for 
 the total annihilation of the antient mu- 
 fick, infomuch that not the leaft traces of 
 it were handed down to pofterity, except 
 the figures of their inflruments pre- 
 ferved on medals, baflb relievos, and 
 other pieces of fculpture. When mufick 
 flourilhed in thofe countries, the compo- 
 pofers, as we]l as performers, were all re- 
 gularly
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 42 f 
 gularly trained in the ftudy and practice 
 of elocution j for, as it has been before 
 obferved, without a knowlege of that art, 
 they could never have difplayed excel- 
 lence in their own, which depended chief- 
 ly on expreffion. This art therefore ne- 
 ceflarily funk with that of eloquence, and 
 loft all it's charms. The prefervation of 
 the notes of a competition, was only the 
 prefervation of their powers as to mere 
 found ; but their force and beauty in point 
 of expreffion, could never be pointed out 
 by any vifible marks, without the affift- 
 ance of a mafter's voice. The true pow- 
 ers therefore of fuch marks could be as 
 little known to pofterity, in mufical com- 
 pofitions,asthetrueufeof the accents in the. 
 works of the Greek poets and orators. As, 
 therefore the great beauty of their vocal 
 mufick was loft, and as they had never 
 carried their inftrumental to any great 
 height, nothing remained in the whole, 
 art worthy of much pains to preferve it, 
 and confequently it was eafily fwept away 
 and drowned in the torrent of barbarifm. 
 Nor ought this to appear at all furprifing 
 to us when we reflect that, befides the 
 
 Jnftajicc
 
 426 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 inftance before mentioned of Parcel, 
 whofe reputation, tho' he lived fo near 
 our own times, is amazingly funk, we have 
 examples alfo in our great old matters 
 Tallis, Lawes, and Blow, whofe names 
 are now fcarce known to the publick. 
 Thefe three, like Purcel, had expreffion 
 for their object, and on that account their 
 works have fhared the -fame fate. Nor 
 mould we probably at this day have any 
 traces of their compofitions remaining, were 
 not fome of them employed in the church 
 fervice : where, thro' a falfe tafte in the 
 performers, and a total inability to give 
 them their due force of expreffion, they 
 lofe the greateft part of their beauty, and 
 confequently mufl in time be fupplanted 
 by others more adapted to the prevailing 
 tafte. 
 
 I mall finifh this head with a quotation 
 from the abbot Gravina, wherein the 
 judgement which he had paffed upon the 
 Italian mufick, whofe fuperiority over all 
 the modern kinds is generally allowed, af- 
 fords a ftrong confirmation of what I have 
 advanced upon this fubject. He fays, 
 * * The muiick which we hear now on 
 
 * Abbate Gravina della tragedia. c OUF
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 427 
 
 c our ftages, is far from producing the 
 
 * fame effects as that of the antients. In- 
 ' {lead of imitating and expreffing the 
 
 * meaning of the words, it contributes 
 
 * only to enervate and choak it : where- 
 
 * fore it is as difagreeable to thofe who 
 ' have a juftnefs of tafte, as it is plealing 
 
 * to fuch as differ from reafon. In fact, 
 ' vocal mufick ought to imitate the na- 
 
 * tural language of the human paflions, 
 ' rather than the finging of canary birds, 
 
 * which our mufick affects fo vaftly to 
 
 * mimick with it's quaverings and boafted 
 c cadences : Tho' we have at prefent a 
 ' very fkilful mufician, and a man of 
 f good fenfe, who is not carried away with 
 
 * the torrent. But our poetry having been 
 
 * corrupted by the excefs of ornaments 
 f and figures, the contagion has fpread it- 
 ' felf into our mufick. 'Tis the fate of all 
 ' arts, which have a common origin and 
 ' object, that the infection paffes from 
 e one to the other. Our mufick is therc- 
 
 * fore fo loaded at prefent with trifles and 
 
 * gewgaws, that we can hardly trace any 
 
 * remains of the natural expreffion. Nor, 
 ' tho' it flatters the ear, is it therefore fit 
 
 'for
 
 428 B R I r 7 S H BOOK III. 
 
 c for tragedy ; becaufe the imitation and 
 
 * expreflion of the inarticulate language 
 ' of the paflions is the chief merit of 
 ' dramatick muikk. If our mufick is 
 
 * ilill agreeable to us, 'tis becaufe we know 
 ' no better, and it tickles the ear, which 
 
 * it does in common with the warbling of 
 
 * goldfinches and nightingales. It refem- 
 ' bles thofe Chinefe pictures which have 
 1 no imitation of nature, and are only 
 
 * pleating by reafon of the vivacity and va- 
 ' riety of their colours/ 
 
 Thirdly, as to painting. Here it muft 
 at once occur, that as the bufinefs of the 
 hiftory- painter is to reprefent human na- 
 ture in a manner which mail be at once 
 graceful and exprefiive, when animated 
 by all it's variety of paflions and affections ; 
 and that, in order to do this, he muft be 
 able to give all the various configurations 
 of the mufcles of the face, together with 
 the whole deportment of the body, and 
 action of the limbs, which are the natural 
 concomitant figns of thole paflions ; and 
 all theie muft be in the moft exact degree 
 of due proportion ; he could no where 
 meet with fuch perfect fubjects as arnongft 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 429 
 
 the orators. There he would find the 
 rnoft complete models ready to his 
 hand, not only of the moft animated 
 expreffion, but alfo of the moft grace- 
 ful ; not only of the moft natural and 
 forcible aclion, but alfo of the moft be- 
 coming, and fuch as was regulated by the 
 niceft art. Nor is it poffible to conceive 
 any look, attitude, or gefture, which the 
 painter might have occafion for in all the 
 feveral ftyle?, whether of the graod, the 
 terrible, the graceful, the tender, the paf- 
 fionate, the joyous ; whether expreffive of 
 the more furious and violent paffions, as 
 anger, hatred, &c. or of the more calm 
 and pleafing, as of pity, joy, &c. which he 
 might not have frequent opportunities of 
 catching warm from the life in the end- 
 lefs variety of fubje&s treated of by an im- 
 paffioned orator. From whom could an 
 Apelles borrow the tender, and the grace- 
 ful, fo well as from the man whofe power 
 of perfuafion was irrefiftible? From whom 
 the grand, and terrible, fo well as from 
 * c Thofe antient whofe refiftlefs elo- 
 * quence 
 
 * Paradife regained. 
 
 < Wielded
 
 430 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 c Wielded at will that fierce democratic, 
 c Shook th' arfenal, and fulmined over 
 
 c Greece 
 
 4 To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne.' 
 How could a Phidias have given fuch 
 fuitable forms to the creatures of fancy, 
 how could he fo juftly have framed an. 
 image of the god of wit and eloquence, 
 as by a faithful tranfcript from a Pericles, 
 in whofe lips the Graces w_ere faid to in- 
 habit -\- ? Or how could he have made fo 
 auguft a ftatue of a Jupiter T^onam^ as 
 from a reprefentation of the fame Pericles, 
 when at other times he was faid to thun- 
 1 der and lighten in the affembly of the 
 * people ? J' Nor did the orators afford to 
 the painters patterns for imitation in them- 
 felves only, they likewife opened whole 
 volumes, wherein they might fludy the 
 paffions at large in all their feveral mo- 
 difications, by means of the ftrong impref- 
 
 \ Quid Pericles ? cujus in labris veteres comici, etiam 
 cum illi maledicerent (quod turn Athenis fieri licebat) 
 leporem habitafle dixerunt : tantamque in eo vim fuifle ut 
 in eorum mentibus qui audiflent, quafi aculeos quofdam re- 
 linqueret. Cic. de orat. 1. 3. 
 
 J Qui, fi tenui genere uteretur, nunquam ab Ariftophane 
 poeta fulgurare, tonare, permifcere Grscciam didus eflet. 
 O;at. 
 
 fions
 
 CHAP. VI. EDUCATION. 431 
 
 fions made by their harangues upon their 
 auditors ; who, in proportion to their feve- 
 ral degrees of fenfibility were all aftuated 
 and inflamed, and muft therefore have af- 
 forded an infinite variety of objects, as well 
 as degrees of paffion, from which a judi- 
 cious obferver might cull what would befl 
 fuit his purpofe. An artift in thofe times 
 might have had a Better opportunity of 
 feeing all the nobler paffions fully and 
 properly difplayed, and in a greater va- 
 riety of fubjects, in one iingle day, than he 
 could now in a whole life fpent in the 
 fearch, or from an obfervation of fuch fub- 
 jects as cafually fall in his way. Indeed 
 the advantage which the painters of thofe 
 times muft have had, by thefe means, 
 over all who fucceeded them, is fo very 
 obvious, that it would favour of ufelefs 
 declamation to enlarge further upon this 
 head. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 432 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 'That it is almoft impojfible that tke mafters 
 in thefe federal arts Jhould arrive at 
 perfection, without the lights and ajiftance 
 borrowed from oratory, 
 
 TO begin with painting. It has al- 
 ready been made appear, that no one 
 can be a mafter in that art, who can not 
 exhibit a juft view of the various looks 
 and geftures which are the natural conco- 
 mitant figns of the feveral paffions and af- 
 fections : that this view muft not only 
 be expreffive, but exact in the degrees o 
 expreffion given to each paffion, fuited to 
 the occafion ; without which, tho' it may 
 have force, it will be void of propriety ; 
 and laftly, that this view muft be taken 
 immediately from life, and not from the 
 
 9 
 
 works of other artifts. Here it muft be 
 obferved, that as there is a natural and ar- 
 tificial language, fo there is alfo a natural 
 and artificial action. By natural language 
 I mean the inarticulate tones which nature, 
 herfelf has given to the paflions, and 
 
 which'
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 433 
 
 which are equally well underftood by all 
 perfons of all nations. Thus the cries 
 and (hrieks of a foreigner in diftrefs move 
 the human heart as much, and as inftinc- 
 tively draw people to his affiftance as thofe 
 of a countryman : and thus laughter, 
 and all expreffions of joy and merriment, 
 excite the fame emotions in people of dif* 
 ferent nations. Thefe natural founds in 
 fome degree accompany all the paflions, 
 tho' they are more or lefs perceptible, in 
 proportion as thofe are more violent, or 
 moderate. By artificial language is meant 
 thofe arbitrary marks affixed to ideas by 
 different nations, and which having no 
 natural connexion with them, are only in- 
 telligible to the natives of each country, 
 or thofe who ftudy their fpeech. In the 
 fame manner there is alfo a natural and 
 an artificial action. The natural, is that 
 which fpontaneoufly refults from the 
 emotions of the heart, and to which na- 
 ture has annexed a power indicative of the 
 paffions. The artificial is that which, 
 like the words of a language, has no na- 
 tural congruity with the paflions or fenti- 
 ments, but has it's foundation in caprice 
 F f and
 
 434 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 and fafhion, and is by cuftom annexed to 
 certain modes of expreflion in particular 
 countries j it is therefore intelligible only 
 to the natives of thcfe countries, and con- 
 fequently can have no force but with 
 them, or fuch as are fufficiently conver- 
 fant with them to acquire a knowlege of 
 their meaning. Now as in all cafes it is 
 known, that nature muft give way to the 
 power of mode and fafhion, it often hap- 
 pens that this artificial action, tho* diredtly 
 oppofite to the natural, is eftablifhed in it's 
 room, fo that no traces of the latter re- 
 main. And this muft necefTarily be the 
 cafe in all nations" where no care is taken 
 to cultivate and fupport natural action. 
 For if art be not employed as an handmaid 
 to nature, (he will ever make herfelf mif- 
 trefs. When judgement and induftry 
 ileen, caprice and idlenefs feize the reins. 
 If we take a view of the different nations 
 of Europe, we {hall find that artificial ac- 
 tion has almoft univerfally fupplanted the 
 natural ; and that the feveral peoples do 
 not differ more from each other in their 
 fpeech, than in their gethires. Thus the 
 French, who are of an airy volatile na- 
 ture.
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 435 
 ture, accompany almoft every word with 
 grimace, and ufe a deal of action when 
 difcourfing on the moft trifling fubjects : 
 whilft the proud Spaniard has habitually 
 fubdued all mufcular motion, which he 
 thinks inconiiilent with his dignity, and 
 preferves as much as poffible, upon all oc- 
 cafions, an inflexibility of countenance, and 
 an unmoved gravity of deportment. The 
 Englifh in general; who have more liberty 
 than any other people, andamongft whom, 
 from this unbounded freedom, every one 
 follows his own humour as his guide, 
 have almofl as many fpecies of actibn 
 as there are individuals in the coun- 
 try ; excepting only fome religious feds 
 amongft them, who have adopted certain 
 modes of looks and deportment peculiar 
 to themfelves, which run thro' the diffe- 
 rent bodies, and make them appear as dif- 
 tinct from the reft of their countrymen 
 as if the ifland were inhabited by different 
 nations. Such, for inftance, are the more 
 rigid quakers : from an obfervation of the 
 countenance, gait and gefture,of the mem- 
 bers in which feet, one would think that 
 they were all cad in the fame mould, or 
 F f 2 cut
 
 436 B R I r IS H BOOK III. 
 
 cut out by the fame pattern. Thefe, like 
 the Spaniards,have alfo fubdued by habit all 
 vifible marks of emotion, except when they 
 give way to abfurd, unnatural, and wild gef- 
 tures, proceeding from the fancied opera- 
 tions of the fpirit; and in thefe alfo they 
 generally refemblc each other, and are 
 always moved by the fpirit in the fame 
 manner. But amongft the reft of the 
 people, there are hardly two to be 
 found who accompany their thoughts 
 with actions exactly fimilar. Thofe are 
 generally taken up by chance, and con- 
 firmed by habit, and become in time fo 
 much a part of a man's felf that he ufes 
 them involuntarily, and applies them in- 
 difcriminately to all forts of fubjects, only 
 with more or lefs vehemence, according as 
 he himfelf is more or lefs actuated. Things 
 being in this fituation, I fhould be glad 
 to know where any modern artift could 
 poffibly find living fubjects from which 
 he might copy true natural expreflion, 
 and action ? If a Spanilh painter were to 
 draw an hiftory piece, and borrow his 
 figures from fuch life as he is converfant 
 with in his own country, tho' the piece 
 
 might
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 437 
 
 might even feem natural and excellent to 
 the unfludied and untravelled natives, yet 
 to perfons of all other countries it muft 
 appear to be devoid both of meaning and 
 grace. Were a Frenchman to draw 
 after nature in his country, his piece 
 might appear there to have both force and 
 beauty to the illiterate; but in other places 
 it muft be confidered only as a groupe of 
 frantick and unmeaning figures. And if 
 we bring it home to ourfelves, we mall 
 find the cafe infinitely worfe in regard to 
 our painters. For tho' in thofe countries 
 the expreffion and action of countenance 
 and limbs be for the moft part artificial, 
 yet the fame kind being generally ufed 
 upon the fame occafions, by all perfons of 
 the fame rank in life and breeding, it be- 
 comes perfectly intelligible to all who are 
 converfant with them, and a reprefenta- 
 tion of it is as well underftood as their 
 fpeech, ,by the natives, and thofe who 
 reiide any time amongft them. But in 
 England, except amongft the common 
 people, with whom fuch pains have not 
 been taken to fupprefs all vilible emotions 
 of nature, by what is commonly called 
 F f 3 gocd
 
 438 B R ir 1 S H BOOK III. 
 
 good breeding, there is no general aftion 
 either natural or artificial, fufficiently ufed 
 to characterife the fentiments and paflions 
 in a reprefentation taken from the life, 
 even to us at home ; much lefs can it be 
 intelligible to our neighbours. People do 
 not differ more from one another here in 
 their phyfiognomy, than they do in their 
 action. Every individual has fomething 
 peculiar to himfelf, which proceeds either 
 from his humour, or mere chance and 
 cuftom 5 and when there is any thing fin-* 
 gular or odd in it, there is no farther no- 
 tice taken of it than to fay, Oh ! that is 
 Mr. fuch-a-one's way. Now I fhould be 
 glad to know what a genius in painting, 
 fuperior even to the greateft of the an- 
 tients, who happened to be born, and to 
 pafs his life in this country, could poflibly 
 do, thus circumftanced ? He can not 
 produce any perfect work which is 
 not taken from life, and the things 
 which he wants chiefly to take from 
 life, he can never fee. Let us fup- 
 pofe fuch an artift, born with* all the ta- 
 lents necefTary to form an hiftory painter, 
 fearching about for proper fubjefls from 
 
 which 

 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 439 
 
 which he might borrow impafTioned 
 looks, forcible geflure, and graceful atti- 
 tudes, in order to give life to the figures 
 in his piece, and to unite in the whole, 
 propriety, grace, and expreffion. If he 
 goes to the fenate-houfe, he may perhaps 
 fee there a Britim orator haranguing upon 
 the fate of the nation, and the liberties of 
 Europe j with great good fenfe indeed, 
 and in well-chofen words, worthy to be 
 read feveral times over when reduced to 
 writing j but with lefs emotion than a 
 Frenchman would fpeak of the difcom- 
 pofing his perdwig. This excellent dif- 
 courfe is perhaps delivered with his hands 
 in his bofom, or if decorated with aclion, 
 it is only fuch as refults from habit, 
 and of which he is at the time uncon- 
 fcious ; fuch as playing with his hat, 
 fumbling in his pockets, fettling his per- 
 riwig, tofling or twifting his head, and 
 fee-fawing his body. If he goes from 
 thence to the bar, he will hardly fare 
 much better. There he may hear a long 
 and elojquent piece of pleading delivered 
 with an unmoved compofure of counte- 
 nance, and the orator perhaps twirling a 
 
 ^ r 
 
 F f 4 piece
 
 440 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 piece of pack-thread round his fingers, 
 which is hiimouroufly called in the fpecta- 
 tor the thread of his difcourfe ; or elfe 
 every now and then filling up his paufes 
 by applying his nofegay to his noflrils. 
 Since the ufe of tobacco indeed fome of 
 the younger fort have found a great fub- 
 fidium to the gracefulnefs of their action 
 by the proper management of the fnuff- 
 box. As to the pulpit, I believe I need 
 hardly mention that he would find little 
 or no afliftance there, unlefs it were for 
 pieces of ftill life. If from an obfervation 
 of the orators he reaps fo little benefit, he 
 will hardly find any from their feveral 
 auditories, who certainly can difcover no 
 more emotion than what is excited by 
 the fpeakers. I do not mean, but that in 
 all thefe places there may be found feveral 
 of fuperior talents, who do not fall into 
 thefe puerilities, and improprieties of gef- 
 ture and behaviour ; but it will be no 
 very confident aiTertion to affirm, that even 
 the bed of thofe, pofleiled of the ftrongeft 
 natural talents, on account of the want of 
 opportunities of ftudying an art,- which of 
 .all others requires the moil pains, will 
 
 hardly
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 441 
 hardly be able to afford in themfelves 
 perfect patterns, for imitation, of grace, 
 propriety, and energy of expreflkm, in 
 their countenance and action. And this 
 may ferve to {hew the reafon why Eng- 
 land never yet has, and probably never 
 will, if things fhould remain in their pre- 
 fent fituation, produce a good hiftory 
 painter. Several have acquitted them- 
 felves well in landfcapes, animals, flowers, 
 and the reprefentation of all fuch things 
 as they could immediately copy from 
 nature j and have therein fallen fhort of 
 their neighbours only fo far, as their op- 
 portunities of making themfelves mafters 
 of the mechanical part of their profeflion 
 were inferior. Some alfo have fhewn 
 themfelves excellent mafters of ex- 
 preflion in fcenes of low life, drawn 
 from living objects, amongft whom the 
 language of the paflions had not been 
 effaced by art. Such are many of the 
 performances of the celebrated Hogarth. 
 Now what reafon can be afligned, that they 
 fhould not be as well able to delineate the 
 various outward configurations produced 
 by the nobler and more exalted paflions, 
 
 provided
 
 442 5 R / r I S H BOOK III. 
 provided they could find as good fubjects 
 in life to take them from, and had as fre- 
 quent opportunities of obferving them ? 
 From the fame principles we may con- 
 clude, that no other country in Europe 
 can poffibly produce real artifts in that 
 way. For as they can no where find 
 grace, propriety and expreffion, of action, 
 attitude, and look, in living fubjects, they 
 can only fearch for them in the remains 
 of the antient artifls ; and confequently 
 can at beft be but copyifts. The ftandard 
 of nature being now every where loft, 
 the remains of antiquity are the fole arche- 
 types to which the compofitions of the 
 moderns are referred, which obtain a 
 comparative value in proportion to their 
 near approaches to the ftyle and manner 
 of thofe. Hence it will follow, that they 
 who have the moft free accefs and fre- 
 quent opportunities of ftudying and obferv- 
 ing thofe originals, muft (caterh paribus) 
 obtain the firft place, and that they who 
 form themfelves only upon the works of 
 thefe copiers, muft be of an inferior rank. 
 Every fuccemve impreffion taken from an 
 impreffion, muft be weaker than the 
 
 former ;
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 443 
 
 former ; and the performance of a copier 
 taken from one who was himfelf a copyift, 
 mutt be confidered as a reflection from a 
 reflection, or an echo from an echo; every 
 fucceffive repetition of which muft grow 
 fainter and fainter. And this may poffiby 
 ferve as a folution why Italy has produced 
 the greateft number, and the higheft clafs 
 of hiftory painters, of any country in Eu- 
 rope ; and Great Britain the feweft, and 
 the leaft confpicuous of any, where that 
 art has been at all cultivated. 
 
 What has been faid in regard to paint- 
 ing, will hold equally good with refpect to 
 mufick. As in the one, when artificial 
 looks and geftures are fubftituted in a 
 country in the room of fuch as are natu- 
 ral, the painter can have no proper fub- 
 jedts from which he can draw perfect re- 
 prefentations of human nature j fo in the 
 other , where artificial tones and founds 
 are made to fupply the voice of nature, 
 the mufical compofer can have no arche- 
 types from which to borrow juft and forci- 
 ble exprellion of the paffions and fenti- 
 ments. So that he is obliged either to 
 give way to his fancy entirely in the vari- 
 ous
 
 444 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 ous combinations of founds j or, if he aims 
 at expreffion, it can be only of the arti- 
 ficial kind, which is ufed in his own coun- 
 try, and which containing no natural 
 power, will not appear to foreign ears to 
 have any force. And this may perhaps 
 be the reafon why fome of the French 
 operas are heard with fuch raptures by the 
 natives, tho' they are even difguftful to 
 Grangers. 
 
 And as to poetry, befides the many 
 advantages which it might derive from 
 oratory, it has been already ihewn, that 
 the perfection of the poet's inftrument, 
 in the refinement of language, muft be 
 entirely owing to the ftudy of eloquence. 
 Nor is it poflible that any poet can be 
 matter of exprefiion in his numbers, who 
 is unfkilled in that art. Poetical expref- 
 fion confifts in a proper combination and 
 arrangement of fyllables and words,which, 
 if juftly repeated, will produce certain 
 tones and founds ; now, if the poet does 
 not know how to repeat even his own 
 verfes with propriety and grace (which 
 is almoU univerfally the cafe of all the 
 modern writers) how is it poffible that he 
 
 can
 
 CHAP. VII. EDUCATION. 445 
 can be a matter of expreflion in num- 
 bers? 
 
 Upon the leaft confideration it will ap- 
 pear, that it was in the very nature of 
 oratory to fupply thefe deficiencies^ and 
 prevent thofe deviations from nature which 
 muft of courfe affecl: the feveral imitative 
 arts. The bufinefs of the orator was to 
 move the paflions of all forts of auditors, 
 without which he could not accomplifh 
 his end. Now it is evident, that the 
 energy of nature muft have much more 
 efficacy in this refpecl: than the power of 
 art. It was therefore incumbent on the 
 orator to preferve, as much as poffible, all 
 the various looks, geftures, and tones, 
 which nature herfelf has annexed to the 
 feveral paflions and affections, to be an 
 univerfal language, intelligible by all ranks 
 and orders of people, of whatever age or 
 country ; and the whole employment of 
 art was only to regulate thefe in fuch a 
 manner, as to exhibit them in their high- 
 eft degree of beauty and grace, without 
 robbing them of their force. The manner 
 of the publick fpeakers would of courfe 
 be imitated by their hearers, and the na- 
 tural
 
 446 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 tural would become every where the fa- 
 fhionable adlion. Hence the artifts in 
 fuch a country might every where find 
 proper fubjects for imitation ready to their 
 hands. The compositions in thofe arts 
 which imitate thro* natural media, fuch as 
 mufick, and painting, would be intelligi- 
 ble not at home only, but in all other 
 countries, and their beauty be every where 
 perceived. Their poetry alfo, which imi- 
 tates only thro' an artificial medium^ and 
 confequently would be unintelligible to 
 fuch as were not acquainted with the ar- 
 bitrary figns made ufe of to exprefs ideas 
 in it, would, on account of the fame ofth e 
 writers, be fought after by all thofe who 
 had leifure and opportunity to acquire 
 knowlege of thofe figns , and they would 
 find their labour well rewarded, not only 
 in the propofed end of underftanding 
 thofe pieces, but likewife in the delight 
 which the very means of arriving at that 
 end would afford them j I mean the plea- 
 fure which they mud take in die con- 
 templation and fludy of a beautiful lan- 
 guage, poliflied and refined to the utmoft. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 447 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Of the encouragements given to the federal 
 artifls during the Jlourijbing Jlate of 
 oratory, 
 
 WH A T I have faid above naturally 
 leads me to the confideration of 
 another point, which is of the utmoft con- 
 fequence in bringing the liberal arts to 
 perfection j I mean the encouragement 
 given to the feveral artifts in the rewards 
 which attended their labours. Thefe re- 
 wards are of two kinds ; fame, and profit. 
 When confidered feparately, the former is 
 certainly the nobler motive to action, and 
 the more likely to produce excellence in 
 works ; but neither of them can operate 
 with fuch force distinctly, as when their 
 powers are united. When fame is the 
 motive, the more general and extended 
 it is, the greater will it's influence be over 
 the minds of fuch as afpire after that for 
 c. reward. A love of fame is of all others 
 the flrongeft incentive to a generous 
 mind, and is the moft boundlefs in it's 
 
 ' defirei.
 
 448 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 deiires. An artift, animated by that, is 
 not contented with the praifes of his own 
 countrymen, he grafps at the applaufe of 
 all his cotemporaries in the different coun- 
 tries of the peopled globe ; nor does he 
 flop here, but looks greedily forward to 
 all future generations, and nothing lefs 
 will content him than a profpedt of per- 
 petuity to his works, or to his name. As 
 fuch an unbounded view is the moft likely 
 to rouze and animate him to the utmoft 
 exertion of all his faculties j fo nothing 
 can fo effectually induce him to labour 
 and toil after the greateft accuracy and 
 correctnefs in his compofitions, which are 
 to pafs in review before fuch numbers of 
 unbiased judges. When the lefler mo- 
 tive of profit is prevalent with an artift, 
 it need fcarce be mentioned, that in pro- 
 portion to the price which his works bear, 
 he will be encouraged and ftimulated in 
 his labours. But in all rewards, whether 
 of fame or profit, it is neceflary that they 
 fhould be diftributed with the niceft 
 judgement, and the moft exact impar- 
 tiality ; without which they not only lofe 
 their end, but become the higheft dif- 
 
 courage-
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 449 
 
 couragements to real artifts. The abbe 
 Du Bos, in fpeaking of this fubjedl, fays : 
 ' If a fovereign diftributes his favours im- 
 c partially, they are an encouragement to 
 4 artifts ; which they ceafe to be as foon 
 c as they are mifplaced. Nay, it would 
 
 * be much better, were a fovereign not 
 1 to diftribute any favours at all, than to do 
 ' it without judgement. An able artift 
 c may find means to comfort himfelf under 
 ' the contempt and neglect into which his 
 ' art is fallen. A -j~ poet may even bear 
 
 * with the difrelifh people chance to have 
 ' for poetry ; but he is ready to burfl with 
 ' envy and fpite, when he fees a prize 
 
 * given to works that are far inferior to 
 ' his own performances. He grows def- 
 1 perate at the fight of an injuftice which 
 
 * is a perfonal affront to him, and he re- 
 c nounces, as much as in him lies, the 
 c mufes for ever.' 
 
 As I have already proved that the feve- 
 ral artifts had the higheft opportunities, 
 during the flourifhing times of oratory, to 
 improve their talents to the utmoft, fo I 
 (hall now mew that they had alfo the 
 
 t We have a itrong inftance of this in Milton. 
 
 G g higheft
 
 45 <y B R I r 1 S H BOOK III. 
 higheft encouragements afterwards to dif- 
 play them : that the incentives were of 
 the nobleft kind, the rewards the greateft, 
 and diftributed with more judgement and 
 impartiality, than could be expected in 
 any other age and country. To begin 
 with the higheft of all incentives, that of 
 fame. It has been already (hewn, that 
 they were not in this refpect confined to 
 their own country, bat their works were 
 every where fought after, and admired by 
 the curious of all nations. Being tran- 
 fcripts from nature, they were intelligible 
 by all people, of all countries, and thro* 
 all ages. Even the imitations thro' arti- 
 ficial media, fuch as the works of the 
 poets, on account of the beauty and per- 
 fection of the language in which they 
 wrote, were likely to fpread over the 
 earth, and to lafl as long as fun and moon 
 endured, What a mighty encourage- 
 ment was this to all fuch writers as were 
 actuated by a principle of fame, and ex- 
 tended their views to future generations ? 
 
 o 
 
 They alfo whofe chief end was the en- 
 joyment of prefent fame and honours, 
 had the nobleil opportunities of being gra- 
 tified
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 451 
 tified to the utmoft extent of their wifhes. 
 This matter has been fully difplayed by 
 the abbe Du Bos in the following pafTage. 
 c The opportunities of receiving the ap- 
 ' plaufes and favours of great aflemblies 
 
 * were very frequent in Greece. As we 
 c have congrelTes in our times, where the 
 
 * deputies of princes and ftates meet in or- 
 
 * der to terminate wars, and regulate the 
 c fates of provinces, and the limits of 
 c kingdoms ; in like manner, there were 
 
 * affemblies formerly from time to time, 
 ' where the moft illuflrious perfonages of 
 
 * Greece rendcvouzed, in order to decide 
 
 * the merit of the moft eminent painter, 
 ' the moft moving poet, and the beft 
 c wreftler. This was the real motive 
 4 which induced fuch multitudes of peo- 
 c pie to flock to thofe publick games that 
 
 * were celebrated in different cities. The 
 
 * publick porticos where the poets went to 
 
 * recite their verfes, or painters to expofe 
 
 * their pictures, were places where the 
 
 * better fort of company ufed generally 
 
 * to meet. In fine, J <c the works of 
 
 G g 2 " great 
 
 J Non enim parietes excolebant dominis tantum, nee 
 domos uno in loco inanfuras, qus ex incendio rapi non 
 
 polTent.
 
 452 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 
 <{ great mafters, as Pliny obferves, were 
 <c not confidered at the time here men- 
 <c tioned, as common moveables deftined 
 " to imbellim a private perfon's apart- 
 " ment j no, they were looked upon as 
 " the jewels of the flate, and as a publick 
 " treafure, the enjoyment whereof was 
 "due to all the inhabitants." The ar- 
 * dour which painters and poets had in 
 ' thofe times to improve their talents, was 
 c not inferior to the eagernefs which we 
 ' obferve in the people of our days to 
 c heap up money, and to attain to great 
 ' employments in the ftate/ 
 
 How muft the hearts of artifts in thofc 
 times have exulted, and how muft their 
 ears have been ravifhed with the general 
 and united praifes, and applaufes, of the 
 moft auguft aflcmblies * of the world ! 
 And how muft this have incited and fpur- 
 red them to the utmoft ftretch of their fa- 
 culties, in comparifon of the prefent cold 
 
 poflent. Omnis eorum ars urbibus excubabat, pi&orque 
 res communis terrarum erat. Plin. hiib 1. 35. 
 
 * We may eafily judge what an incitement this muft have 
 been to men of genius, when we have it on record, that the 
 great Themiftocles, upon beir j received at the Olympick 
 feftival with the general fhoir: and applaufes of the aflem- 
 bly, faid, ' This was the happieft day he had ever known, 
 'and that he then reaped the full reward of all his labours. 1 
 
 appro-
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 453 
 
 approbation given in private, and the flow 
 growth of reputation from the fuffrages of 
 individuals ? Efpecially when it is confi- 
 dered that this did not end merely in fame, 
 but the artius who bore away the prizes, 
 were immediately raifed, perhaps from 
 meannefs and obfcurity, into great perfo- 
 nages, fo as to be confidered of an equal 
 rank with thofe who were entrufted with 
 the higheft offices. And it was often 
 known that men of the nobleft birth, and 
 greateft riches in Greece, did not think it 
 a dilhonour to marry their daughters to 
 fuch eminent poets, painters, and mufici- 
 ans, as had diftinguifhed themfelves in an 
 extraordinary manner on thefe occafions. 
 If the chief object of fome was profit, it 
 is evident from the great price which their 
 works bore, and the large fortunes raifed 
 by feveral artifts, how amply they might 
 be gratified in this point alfo. 
 
 But the higheft incentive of all to the 
 
 o 
 
 exertion of true genius, was the moral cer- 1 
 tainty of rewards being diftributed with 
 {kill and impartiality. The multitude of 
 judges effectually prevented corruption, 
 and their ikill arofe partly from a general 
 
 G ? srood 
 
 & ,> &
 
 454 BRITISH BOOK HE 
 good tafte diffufed thro' the whole body 
 of the people, and partly from the great op- 
 portunities which all who were inclined to 
 it had of forming and fixing their tafte upon 
 the bcft models, by means of the moil 
 excellent works of all kinds being the 
 property of the publick, and confequently 
 acceflible at all times, and by all perfons. 
 On which accounts it is more than pro- 
 bable, that a common illiterate Athenian 
 might be a more competent judge of per- 
 fection in all the liberal arts, than the 
 niceft and moft pains-taking of our con- 
 noifleurs. They had conflant oppor- 
 tunities of comparing the copies with their 
 true archetypes, with nature herfelf. 
 They had daily before their eyes the great 
 originals of grace and expreffion, in the 
 looks, gefture, and tones of their orators; 
 and therefore could not fail of judging 
 whether the copies were right : a man 
 in thofe days might fay, that the turn of 
 countenance, the attitude and action of a 
 figure reprefented in a hiftory piece were 
 juft and expreflive, becaufe he had feen 
 fuch ufed by a Pericles, a Demofthenes, 
 or a Demades, upon a'fimilar occafion, 
 
 and
 
 CHAP. VIII. EDUCATION. 455 
 
 and in the reprefentation of a like paffion 
 or affection. He might pafs judgement 
 likewife with equal certainty in regard to 
 tones, founds and cadences in mufical or 
 poetical expreffion. Whereas a modern 
 critick has no archetype to refer to but 
 the works of the moft celebrated matters. 
 He can only fay that fuch a picture is in 
 the manner of a Raphael or a Rubens, or 
 fuch a poem and fuch a piece of mufick 
 is in the ftyle of this poet, and that com- 
 pofer. The utmoft therefore that he can 
 arrive at is to form only a comparative 
 judgement : and even in that refpe<5t, in 
 many cafes, an unlettered Athenian had, 
 without ftudy or application, great advan- 
 tages over him, by means of the conflant 
 opportunities which he had of feeing all 
 the greateft works of the greateft mafters 
 publickly expofed to view : which muft 
 imperceptiby infufe into him a good com- 
 parative tafte, tho' he mould be totally 
 ignorant of all rules, and principles. 
 Whereas a modern virtuofo muft travel 
 over all Europe, be at great pains and 
 expence to get accefs to the cabinets of 
 the curious, and even then will hardly 
 Gg4 be
 
 456 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 be allowed time enough to examine them 
 fufficiently, fo as to form an accurate 
 judgement of the feveral works. And this 
 was the true fource of that general good 
 tafte amongft the antients, which we find 
 fo greatly celebrated. Hence it was 
 that if a fyllable was pronounced by 
 an actor in the lead longer or fhorter 
 than it ought to be, that the whole audi- 
 ence to a man cried out againft it. Hence 
 it was that the Athenians obtained that re- 
 markable character from Cicero ; * * The 
 ' judgement of the Athenians was fo true 
 ' and juft, that they could not liften to 
 c any thing but what was pure and ele- 
 c gant.' 
 
 It muft be allowed that an artift could 
 no where find fuch due encouragement, 
 or have fuch moral certainty of meeting 
 with rewards proportioned to his merit, 
 as from the fuffrages of a free people, 
 amongft whom a general good tafte pre- 
 vailed. Next to that, tho* far fhort in- 
 deed, is the countenance and favour of 
 
 . 
 
 * Athenienfes quorum Temper fuit .fincerum prudeitf- 
 ([ve judicium, nihil ut poflent nifi incorruptum a'udire 
 & elt-gan-, 
 
 an
 
 EDUCATION. 457 
 
 an abfolute prince, when he happens to 
 be a man of fkill and integrity, or is ferved 
 by minifters poflefTed of thofe qualities. 
 But in a country where neither the prince 
 is abfolute, nor the people in general have 
 a good tafte, it is hardly poflible that the 
 arts fhould ever flourim. In the Englifh 
 conftitution, which like the antient re- 
 publicks has liberty for it's object, and 
 wherein each claims a right of judging 
 for himfelf in all matters whatever, it is 
 extreamly neceffary that the people mould 
 have proper opportunities of having their 
 judgements rightly informed. For in 
 proportion as a bad tafte fhould prevail 
 amongft them, in proportion will the 
 works of fuch artifls as flatter that vicious 
 taile be encouraged ; and every encou- 
 ragement given to the falfe, becomes a 
 difcouragement to the true genius. No- 
 thing therefore can poflibly raife the arts 
 to any pitch of perfection amongft us, but 
 a general good tafte in the people j and 
 nothing can poflibly create and diffufe this 
 general good tafte, but the ftudy and 
 practice of oratory, 
 
 CHAP.
 
 458 B R IT I S H BOOK III. 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Objection to the above hypothecs, drawn 
 from the works of the modern artifts ; 
 and anpwer to the objection. 
 
 TO all that I have faid in fupport 
 of my hypothefis, I know it will 
 at once be objected, that the revival of the 
 arts in Europe, and their moft flouriming 
 ilate, were brought about without any of 
 the aids of oratory, which I have pre- 
 tended to be fo neceflary to their perfec- 
 tion. The boafted ages of Leo X. and 
 Lewis XIV. with all the great mailers 
 which they produced, will immediately 
 be quoted upon me. I am much deceived 
 if a thorough difcuffion of this point would 
 not ferve to illuftrate and eftablim my 
 opinion more clearly and firmly than any 
 thing elie. But as this would lead me 
 into too wide a field for the bounds of this 
 work, and as I intend on another occa- 
 fion to enter into a more minute difquifi- 
 tion of this whole matter, I fhall content 
 myfelf at prefent with touching only upon 
 
 fome
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 459 
 
 fome of the principal points, in order to 
 invalidate, in fome meafure, the objec- 
 tions which may be raifed upon this head. 
 In the firft place, nothing can be more 
 clearly proved, than that the great artifts- 
 during thofe periods borrowed their chief 
 excellencies from the works of the an- 
 tients, and confequently that they were 
 at beft but imitators, and copyifts. 
 
 Secondly, that the fuppofed perfection 
 of their works, has not been fettled by 
 any abfolute ftandard, but by comparifon 
 only. 
 
 Laftly, that the few originals which 
 have been produced fince the revival of 
 the arts, have been indebted for their 
 chief value to oratory. 
 
 In fpeaking to thefe feveral points, I 
 would have it remembered, that I do 
 not at all take into my account, fuch 
 works as depend merely upon the {kill, 
 and knowlege of the matters in their fe- 
 veral arts, but only fuch as have refe- 
 rence to their great end, of reprefenting 
 human nature in it's moft exalted, and 
 dignified ftate. 
 
 It was in the age of Julius II. and Leo X. 
 I that
 
 460 BRITISH BOOK 111. 
 
 that the arts arofe out of the tombs in 
 which they had fo long been buried ; 
 nnd, during that period, fome of them 
 arrived at a degree of perfection, which 
 all the endeavours of man have not fince 
 been able to keep up. But they were far 
 from going hand in hand together and 
 keeping an even pace, as they were al- 
 ways obferved to do in Greece and Rome, 
 foon after their births ; painting and fta- 
 tuary left their fitters far , behind, and 
 reached the goal when poetry and mufick 
 had fcarce flarted. Let us fee how this 
 diverfity of the fate and progrefs of the 
 modern arts, from thofe of the antients, 
 can be reconciled to reafon : for in Greece 
 and Rome poetry and mufick were the 
 elder, and ftarted nrft, tho' they were 
 quickly followed and overtaken in the 
 race by their younger Mers : and indeed 
 in the natural order of things this muft 
 have been the cafe. Nor do I know upon 
 what principle this difference can be ac- 
 counted for, but that of plagiarifm, and 
 a fuppofition that the modern artitts bor- 
 rowed their chief beauties from the works 
 of the antients j efpecially when we find
 
 CHAP.1X. EDUCATION. 461 
 
 that the folution of this difficulty will 
 follow in the moft natural manner from 
 that principle. 
 
 It is well known that it was owing to 
 the great pains and affiduity of Julius II. 
 and Leo X. in fearching after thofe con- 
 cealed treafures, that almoft all the pre- 
 cious remains of antiquity, both of paint- 
 ing and ftatuary, which were buried under 
 the ruins of Rome, were brought to 
 light. Thefe were collected and pre- 
 ferved with the utmoft care by thofe two 
 paflionate lovers of the arts. Their great 
 liberalities encouraged all perfons of ge- 
 nius to apply themfelves clofely to the 
 ftudy of them : and, with fuch advan- 
 tages as they poflefTed, of having fo great a 
 variety of the moft perfect models before 
 their eyes, it is no wonder that the pro- 
 grefs of the firft artifts was fo rapid, and 
 that their works far excelled all thofe of 
 their fucceflbrs. The painters particularly 
 had patterns in thefe antient pictures, of 
 grace and expreffton, which were no longer 
 to be met with in nature ; an advantage 
 which none of their fucceffors could have, 
 as thofe pieces in a few years, after having 
 
 been
 
 462 B R I r 1 S n BOOK III. 
 been expofed to the external air, moul- 
 dered away, and at laft totally difappeared. 
 The * firft painters had therefore the 
 mod perfect models in thofe great origi- 
 nals, which were immediate tranfcripts 
 from nature -, whilfl fuch as were bred up 
 under them had only copies to ftudy in 
 the works of their matters, and confe- 
 quently were one degree farther removed, 
 and could only fee nature, as it were, in 
 a fecond reflection. Thofe who were 
 bred up under them again were ftill more 
 remote, 'till at laft the object entirely dif- 
 appeared. And this perhaps may be found 
 to be the true reafon why hiftory-painting 
 has from thofe days to thefe been in a 
 conftaiat ftate of declenfion, fo that fcarce 
 the fhadow of it now appears upon earth. 
 In ftatuary alfo the firft artifts had the 
 advantage of finding a prodigious num- 
 ber of the great works of antiquity col- 
 lected together in one place 5 whilft 
 thro' the negligence or want of tafts 
 in the fucceeding popes, thofe im- 
 
 * It need fcarce be mentioned alfo what benefit thefe 
 firft painter smuft have received, from the large collection, 
 f ftatues then to be feen together at Rome. 
 
 menfe
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 463 
 menfe treafures have been fcattered over 
 the world, and muft be fearched for in 
 the collections of many private perfons, as 
 well as kings and princes, thro' the feveral 
 countries of Europe. But as ftatues and 
 pieces of fculpture are not made of fuch 
 perimable materials as pictures, and as 
 thefe models are ftill in being, artifts of 
 genius may ftill form their tafte upon 
 them by pains and travelling, and there- 
 fore we have good ftatuaries, and fculp- 
 tors yet to be found in feveral countries 
 in Europe, according to the encourage- 
 ment given to their feveral abilities ; nor 
 have we any reafon to fuppofe that there 
 will be any great deficiency of artifts in 
 this way, whilft fueh patterns for their 
 imitation remain, and whilft fuitable re- 
 wards attend their labours. Nothing can 
 ferve more ftrongly to confirm this point 
 than the fuccefs of the academy of Lewis 
 XIV. founded at Rome by that monarch, 
 at an immenfe expence, in order to give 
 young perfons of genius the utmoft op- 
 portunities of improving themfelves in 
 thofe arts. But fifty years care and coft 
 fcarce produced one painter of note ; 
 
 whereas
 
 464 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 whereas a large number of fculptors was 
 formed there, whofe works far excelled 
 all thofe of their cotemporaries. As the 
 great afTiftance, which the mailers derived 
 from the remains of the antients, in thofe 
 two arts, was a fufficient caufe of the 
 rapidity of their progrefs, fo the flow ad- 
 vances made in mufick, and poetry, can 
 be fully accounted for upon the fame 
 principle. It is well known that the 
 antient mufick was entirely loft, fo that 
 the men of genius for that art, having no 
 fuch lights to guide them, as the others 
 had, were a long time groping their way 
 in the dark ; and when they emerged 
 into light, found themfelves at a vaft 
 diftance behind their brethren of the 
 other profeffions. For this reafon alib, 
 havirfg none of their great matters of 
 antiquity to be their guides, theyfteered 
 towards a wrong object, and made plea- 
 fure their end, which by the antients was 
 only ufed as the means. The poets in- 
 deed were in a different fituation : they, 
 like the painters and ftatuaries, had the 
 nobleft works of Greece and Rome to 
 ferve them as patterns j but their inftru- 
 
 ments
 
 CHAP. IX. EDUCATION. 465 
 ments were too poor to give a juft copy 
 of the grace, and beauty to be found in 
 thofe originals. The languages of Europe 
 were as yet in a rude ftate J. The Ita- 
 lian, which was the leaft corrupted of all 
 thofe derived from the antient Roman, 
 was the firft which gave any dawnings of 
 elegance in modern poetry; and the French, 
 foon after, with immenfe pains andindufiry, 
 polifhed their language as far as the nature 
 of it would admit, fo as to exhibit fome 
 faint reprefentation of the beauties to be 
 found in the works of the antient poets. 
 But it is eafy to be feen in the writings of both 
 countries, that their chief merit confifted in 
 an imitation of the antients. The Italians 
 took the mod daring flights, and boldly 
 foared into the regions of epick poetry j but j 
 however lofty to a modern eye their excur- 
 fions might appear, they fell far fhort of 
 their great matters : and it was clear that 
 they mounted only on borrowed wings, by 
 the fudden precipitate falls, and irregulari- 
 ties of motion, whenever they trufled to 
 
 % That this was the true caufe of the flow progrefs of 
 poetry, and not any dearth of genius, may appear from 
 the feveral excellent compofitions in Latin, inferior to 
 none but thofe of the Auguftan age, which at that 
 time were pi educed by Sanizarhis, Vid%, Src. 
 
 H h their
 
 466 B R I r 1 S H BOOK III. 
 their native vigour. The French, rhorecon- 
 fcious of their weaknefs, and knowing 
 that their wings were only fattened with 
 wax, dreaded the fate of Icarus if they 
 approached too near the fun, and there- 
 fore never attempted any flights beyond 
 the middle regions of tragick poetry. 
 There too they followed the antients at 
 a diftance, and would venture into no 
 track unmarked by them. As it is on 
 their tragedies which the French value 
 themfelves moft, it is worth obferving, that 
 their chief merit feems to arife from a 
 cold obfervation of the rules of the an- 
 tients in the ftructure of thofe pieces 5 
 whilil the chief point, ajufl reprefenta- 
 tion of the perfonages of the drama, has 
 been neglected. The great heroes of 
 Greece and Rome, are all metamorphoied 
 into Frenchmen ; and Alexander, Caeiar, 
 and Scipio, are become Monfieurs of Pa- 
 ris. Upon the whole, if all that was 
 borrowed from the antients by the Italian 
 and French poets were to be rcftored$ 
 there would fcarce any thing great or 
 noble remain j and perhaps the only truly 
 original thing they could bcait of wouUi
 
 CiiA*. IX. EDUCATION. 467 
 
 be their rhime ; the full honour of which 
 the antients would hardly envy them. 
 
 It is indeed fo evident, from the works 
 themfelves, that almoft all the valuable 
 modern competitions are but copies of 
 the remains of antiquity, that the point 
 need hardly be farther infifted on. Thepla- 
 giarifm of ftatuaries, fculptors, and poets, 
 is the mod vifible ; as the originals are in 
 being, from which the artifts have bor- 
 rowed, and by a view of ^ r hich the theft 
 may be difcovered. We can not indeed 
 know how much the firft painters borrow- 
 ed from the pictures which have fince 
 been loft \ but it is more than probable 
 that they were at leaft as much indebted 
 to them, as the other artifts have been to 
 what have remained. Nor can we doubt 
 from what ftores their imaginations were 
 chiefly fupplied, when we confider how 
 very improperly, on many occalions, they 
 have introduced ideas which could alone 
 be borrowed from antient works, and were 
 onlyfuitable to their fubjects. The abbe Du 
 Bos has obferved, * That Michael Angelo 
 ' was univerfally blamed, for having mix- 
 ' ed the fictions of heathen poetry with 
 PI h 2 * the
 
 468 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 * the revealed articles of the laft judge- 
 ' ment, in the reprefentation he has drawn 
 ' thereof, on the bottom wall of the 
 c chapel of Sixtus IV.' He alfo takes 
 notice, that Rubens in one of his 
 pieces has drawn our Saviour in the atti- 
 tude of a fabulous Jove, with a thunder- 
 bolt in his hand, ready to dart it againft 
 the world. And in another place, treat- 
 ing, of the fame fubjec~t, he has the fol- 
 lowing pafTage : c The picture in the gal- 
 
 * lery of Luxemburg, reprefenting the ar- 
 c rival of Mary of Medicis at Verfailles, is 
 ' an hiftorical compofition. The painter 
 ' intended therefore to reprefent the event 
 
 * agreeably to truth. The queen lands 
 c from on board the Tufcan gallies. The 
 ' lords and ladies, that accompany or re- 
 c ceive her, are eafy to be diftinguifhed. 
 'But the Nereids and Tritons, whom 
 
 * Rubens has reprefented founding their 
 c {hells in the harbour, to exprefs the joy 
 c with which this maritime town received 
 
 * the new queen 3 make, to my fancy at 
 c leaft, a very prepofterous appearance. 
 As 1 am fenfible that none of thefe ma- 
 
 * rine deities affifted at the ceremony, this 
 
 4 fiction
 
 CHAP.IX. EDUCATION. 469 
 
 ' fiftion deftroys part of the effect, which 
 * the imitation would have produced in my 
 c mind. Rubens ought here, methinks, 
 ' to have imbellimed his harbour with or- 
 c naments more reconcileable to probabi- 
 f lity. Things that are invented, in or- 
 ' der to render a fubject more agreeable, 
 c fhould always be confident with it's ex- 
 c iftence.' His obfervation is certainly 
 juftj and yet do we not fee the fame 
 method practifed in our poetry ? The 
 heathen divinities are {till the gods of the 
 Chriftian poets, and Jupiter, Apollo, Mi- 
 nerva, Cupid, and Venus, are daily in- 
 troduced even upon modern fubjects, tho' 
 at the expence of verifimilitude, which 
 ought to be the chief objecl: in all the imi- 
 tative arts. But this, amongft many 
 others, is a clear proof from what flore- 
 houfe the moderns have borrowed their 
 ideas. This is ftill more evident in fta- 
 tuary, wherein the artifts have not only 
 copied the attitude and expreflion of the 
 antiques, but adorned their modern 
 figures with the very drefs and ornaments 
 of the Greeks and Romans. 
 
 When therefore we reflect upon the, 
 H h 3 progreft
 
 47 o "BRITISH' BOOK III. 
 progrefs of thefe four arts fince their re- 
 vival ; that hiftory-painting made it's 
 quickeft marches, and arrived at an higher 
 point of perfection than has been fince 
 known, during the time that the artifts 
 had an opportunity of ftudying the antient 
 pictures ; and, fince thofe perimed* it has 
 declined, arid is now a-lmoft vanifhed : 
 that ftatuary reached it's fummit whilft 
 the artifts had the beft opportunity of ex- 
 amining the largeft collection of antiques: 
 and that the moft admired works are ftill 
 produced by thofe who have the bed means 
 of viewing thofe models : that poetry in 
 the feveral nations of Europe has made ad- 
 vances towards excellence, in proportion 
 as the Greek and Roman authors were 
 more or lefs generally ftudied amongft 
 them ; and that the compositions in this 
 way are more or lefs valued in proportion 
 as they refemble thofe ftandards : that 
 mufick, which had no patterns from an- 
 tiquity to imitate, has never yet attained 
 it's end, and is only a mere feniual delight, 
 without contributing to the benent of 
 mankind: we may boldly conclude, 'That 
 c the great modern artifts have borrowad 
 
 their
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 47* 
 ' their chief excellencies from the works 
 ' of the antients,andconfequently that they 
 ' are at beft but imitators and copyifts.' 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 
 
 That the fuppofed perfection of modern works> 
 has not been fettled by any abfolute ftan- 
 dard, but by comparifon only. 
 
 IT is evident enough that the works of 
 the greateft modern artifts in poetry, 
 and ftatuary, have but a comparative value, 
 and that there is a twofold judgement 
 patTed upon them. When compared with 
 thofe of the antients, they fall far mort 
 of the perfection to be found in them j 
 and appear, relatively, mean in the eyes 
 of all perfons of true tafte : but, when 
 compared with the performances of their 
 cotemporaries, or fuch as have fucceeded 
 them, the works of the mofl eminent ac- 
 quire a fuperiority above the reft, as much 
 as they themfelves are found inferior to 
 thofe of antiquity. Nor is there any reafon 
 to believe, but that the cafe would be ex- 
 actly fimilar with refpect to painting, and 
 H h 4
 
 473 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 mufick i if the feveral compofitions of the 
 great antient matters in thofe arts, had 
 been prefer ved and handed down to us in 
 the fame manner, as in the others. From 
 the many wonderful accounts tranfmitted 
 to us, by perfons of undoubted authority, 
 df the amazing effects produced by the 
 mufical compofitions of the antients ; we 
 can not believe but that they were of a kind . 
 far fuperior to ours : and, tho' their 
 paintings are loft to us, yet fome of them 
 retain ftill a kind of being in the elegant 
 defcriptions given of them by feveral au- 
 thors, fo as to enable us to form a tolera- 
 ble notion of their merit. Whoever reads 
 Pliny's account of a picture drawn by 
 Ariftides, reprefenting a woman ftabbed 
 with a poniard, having a fucking child at 
 her breatt ; the praifes which Aufonius 
 beftows upon the Medea of Timomachus ; 
 what Pliny and Quintilian both have faid 
 upon the facrifke of Iphigenia by Timan- 
 thes ; the excellent dcfcription which Lu- 
 cian gives of a grand piece reprefenting 
 the marriage of Alexander and Roxana, as 
 alfo the family of a Centaur drawn by 
 Zcuxls, wijh many others to the fame ef- 
 fects
 
 CHAP. X. EDUCATION. 473 
 feftj cannot but conclude that the painters 
 of antiquity were matters of the nobleft 
 and moft accurate expreffion, as well as 
 pf the fmeft poetick and picturefque com- 
 petition. And indeed, when we find 
 that all the antients, who have written 
 upon thofe fubjects, are agreed in allow- 
 ing that painting and mulick were in as 
 high a degree of perfection as poetry and 
 fculpture ; we can not refufe our belief 
 to the teftimony of fuch exquifite judges. 
 
 Here it muft be obferved therefore that, 
 tho' the compolitions in modern painting 
 and muiick be generally thought to have 
 a more abfolute degree of perfection than 
 thofe of poetry and fculpture j yet, in fact, 
 they have only a comparative value. The 
 whole difference lies in this, that, as fome 
 pf the nobleft works of antiquity in the 
 latter arts are ftill remaining, the compofi- 
 tions of the moderns fuffer much when 
 compared with them j but, as all the traces 
 pf the former are loft, the moft eminent - 
 mafters of latter times can be only com- 
 pared with fuch as are inferior to them-, 
 felves ; and confequently, by fuch a com- 
 parifon, their works muft always appear 
 
 in
 
 474 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 in the moft advantageous light. Nay, to 
 modern judges, they muft of courfe be- 
 come the ftandards of perfection. But, 
 were the mafterly drawings of the ami- 
 ent painters ftill in being, it is more than 
 probable that the hiftorical pieces of our 
 moft celebrated artifts would be thrown at 
 as great a diftance by a comparifon with 
 them, and fink as much in their value, as 
 the works of our poets and ftatuaries have 
 done. And could we hear the antient 
 mulkk performed in it's utmoft perfection, 
 our admiration of the modern would per- 
 haps be changed into contempt, and the 
 moft excellent of our compofers be con- 
 iidered. only as agreeable triflers. 
 
 From this view it is evident, that, how- 
 ever the reputation of the modern artifts 
 in painting and mufick may have been 
 raifed by the lofs of the works of the an- 
 tients, yet the arts themfelves muft have 
 fuffered amazingly 5 and all true critical 
 knowlege, with refpect to thofe, muft 
 have been proportionably lefs. For there 
 can be no doubt, but that the curious en- 
 quirers into poetry and ftatuary, have 
 much ftrongerj and more certain lights, 
 
 to
 
 CHAP. XL EDUCATION. 475 
 
 to guide their judgements, In afcertaining 
 the real value of any production in either 
 of thofe arts, by means of the twofold 
 comparifon ; whereas they who have a 
 tafte for mufick and painting can only 
 judge by comparifon of the works of one 
 modern with thofe of another. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 That the few originals , 'which have been pro- 
 duced fmce the revival of the arts> have 
 been indebted for their chief value to 
 oratory. 
 
 I HAVE already taken notice, that I 
 fpeak all along only of fuch compofi- 
 tions in the imitative arts as are of the . 
 more exalted and heroickkind. Of thefc 
 we mail perhaps find very few amongft 
 the moderns which can be juftly allowed 
 to be originals. All that is called great 
 and noble in ftatuary, has been apparently 
 borrowed from the antients; as alfo in 
 hiftory-painting. Nor has the fublimer 
 kind of poetry been lefs indebted to them. 
 Every thing in our mufick indeed, muft 
 
 be
 
 476 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 be allowed to be original, as it was of our 
 own invention, and could owe nothing 
 to antiquity j fince that art had been, 
 wholly loft. But this, according to the 
 modern practice, mult be looked upon 
 rather as a mathematical fcience, orna- 
 mented by fancy, than one of the imita- 
 tive arts. Throughout all the nations of 
 Europe, Italy and England alone can have 
 the honour of boafting that they have 
 produced fome noble originals ; Italy in 
 painting, and England in poetry. The 
 pictures of devotion, which chiefly em- 
 ployed the mafters of the Italian fchool, 
 might probably vie with the greateft pro- 
 ductions of old, were they ftill fubfifting, 
 in point of force of expreffton, fubhmity, 
 and truth ; becaufe the mafters had an op- 
 portunity of taking thefe warm from life 
 in an infinite number of fubjects daily to 
 be feen in their chapels, in thofe days when 
 piety and enthufiafm were at their greateft 
 height. As praying with devotion, and 
 an hearty zeal, muft be allowed to be one 
 of the moft exalted fpecies of oratory, and 
 as nothing can be more ftrongly charac- 
 terifed by the human features and gef~
 
 CHAP. XI. EDUCATION. 477 
 
 ture ; the modern artifts muft have had as 
 good fubjects, and as frequent opportu- 
 nities of drawing from the life, in this 
 refpeft, as the antients had in others : fo 
 that, fuppofmg an equality of genius and 
 execution, there is good reafon to believe, 
 that the devotional pictures of the Italian 
 painters may every way be equally ex- 
 cellent with the hiftorical pieces of anti- 
 quity. This opinion will appear the 
 more probable when we confider 3 that, 
 tho' the hiftorical pieces of the moft emi- 
 nent Italian painters have raifed great ad- 
 miration, when compared with thofe of 
 others ; yet they are far from being al- 
 lowed to be the moft excellent of their 
 own works. It has been univerfally 
 agreed, that the paintings on religious fub- 
 jects of Angelo, Raphael, Titian, &c. are 
 their moft finifhed pieces, and far fupe- 
 rior to their other works. Let it be re- 
 membered alfo, that during the age of 
 Leo X. and for fome time afterwards, 
 zeal for religion was carried to a much 
 higher pitch, on account of the ftruggles 
 occafioned by the feveral feceffions from 
 the church of Rome, begun and carried 
 
 on
 
 478 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 on in thofe days, than it probably ever 
 was either before or fince. This muit 
 not only have made a greater number of 
 devotees, and afforded more frequent ex- 
 amples of a warm exprefiion, but mud 
 likewife have rouzed the Italian * preach- 
 ers, always allowed to be the moil ani- 
 mated of any in Europe, to the utmofl 
 exertion of their faculties ; and confe- 
 quently have given advantages to the 
 painters of thofe days, in all fubjedls of 
 this nature, over all artifts of other coun- 
 tries, as well as their fucceiTors in their 
 own. 
 
 England has produced two poets in the 
 fublimer kinds of writing, the epick and 
 tragick, who mufl be allowed to be truly 
 originals. But it would be no difficult 
 matter to prove, that they were indebted 
 for the greateft part of their excellence, 
 and their undoubted fuperiorlty over all 
 the moderns of all nations, to their fkill irt 
 oratory. Whoever is converfant in the 
 
 * To this caufe might probably be owing, the forcible 
 expreffion ib much admired in one of the cartoons, where 
 St Paul is reprefented in the aclion of preachy 
 Athenians. 
 
 writings
 
 CHAP. XI. EDUCATION. 479 
 
 writings of Milton, muft be convinced 
 that he made that art his peculiar fludy. 
 No other poet has {hewn fo profound a 
 knowlege of the power of founds, or the 
 force of expreilion from a proper arrange- 
 ment of words. No writer of antiquity 
 has fhewn more perfect ikill in the whole 
 art of eloquence, than he has difplayed in 
 the fpeeches of Satan and his fallen crew. 
 Whoever examines carefully his account 
 of the proceedings at the Pandsemonium 
 in his fecond book, will find, that in the 
 fpeeches of Satan himfelf, of Moloc, Be- 
 lial, Mammon, and Beelzebub, he feems 
 to have taken in almofl the whole com- 
 pafs of oratory ; and that there is fcarce a 
 fpecies of it, of which he has not given 
 a noble and complete fpecimen. Nor 
 could the fecretary of Cromwell have 
 wanted fubjecls to draw after the life from 
 that great mailer of perfuafion and his 
 affociates, by whom that art was as 
 much cultivated, and was as ufeful to 
 them in carrying their points, as the force 
 of arms, and military fkill. 
 
 Shakefpear, whofe towering genius, 
 and uncommon reach of underftanding,had 
 
 endued
 
 480 B R I r I S H BooKHI. 
 
 endued him with an intuitive quicknefs in 
 his fearches into Jiuman nature, had ac- 
 quired from the very profeflion in which 
 he was engaged, an habitual and practical 
 knowlege of the oratorial art, far fuperior 
 to all theory. To be convinced of his 
 admirable fkill in this refpedt, we need 
 only look over his fhort piece of advice 
 to the player in his Hamlet 3 wherein we 
 can not but wonder how it was poffible, 
 that fo juft and comprehenfive a fyftem 
 of rules both for action, and fpeaking, 
 could have been comprized in fo narrow 
 a compafs. It might be eafily fhewn, that 
 the great fuccefs of his pieces at this day, 
 and the effects which they produce in the 
 reprefentation, have been chiefly owing to 
 his fkill in the art of fpeaking. It was 
 that which enabled him to form a true 
 dramatick ftyle, that happy arrangement 
 and difpoiition of his words, fo perfectly 
 adapted to his fubjects, which throw fuch 
 a luftre on his fentiments, and are fo ad- 
 mirably fuited to the mouth of the 
 fpeaker. Thefe are the beauties which 
 particularly diflinguiili his plays, in the 
 reprefentation at leaft, and funicic 
 
 :
 
 CHAP, XI. EDUCATION. 4 &i 
 make amends for all the irregularities of 
 his drama. Whilft the works of moft of 
 our other writers, who have great advan- 
 tages over him in other refpects, thro' 
 want of fkill in this eflential art, are heard 
 with languor, or difguft. And this will 
 be found the bed reafon why many plays 
 ftill give delight in the clofet, which are 
 infupportable on the ftage. The fame 
 verfes may give pleafure to the eye, which 
 ; are tedious to the ear j the flyle which 
 is not eafy to the fpeaker, becomes difa- 
 greeable to the hearer ; and no man can 
 write well for the fpeaker, who can not 
 fpeak well himfelf. 
 
 To obviate all the objections which 
 -may be raifed againft the hypothecs which 
 I have laid down, and to invalidate 
 the arguments of the many writers on 
 this fubject, would far exceed the com- 
 pafs and defign of this work. I have con- 
 tented myfelf at prefent with endeavour- 
 ing to make this opinion appear not im- 
 probable, and with curforily taking no- 
 tice of fuch obvious objections as were 
 moft likely to occur at firft view. I mall 
 therefore leave the fuller proof to a future 
 I i opportunity,
 
 482 B R I r I S H BOOK III. 
 opportunity, and make no doubt but that 
 the clofer the examination is, the more 
 will the opinion be juftified. I (hall con- 
 clude my arguments upon this head, 
 with one which to me, at leaft, appears an 
 unanfwerable proof that the imitative arts 
 borrowed their aids from oratory, not ora- 
 tory from the imitative arts : that is, 
 fuppoling that the mailers in the imitative 
 arts copied from the orators and their 
 auditories, the various exprcflions of paf- 
 ilon, &c. it is clear that they immediately 
 took them from life, from nature ; whereas, 
 on a fuppofition that the orators borrowed 
 their fkill from the competition in the imi- 
 tative arts, it is clear that they did not copy 
 from nature, but from artificial works, 
 and confequently could not have arrived 
 at fo perfect an imitation in their way, 
 as the other matters ; a point contradicted 
 by fact, and the concurrent testimony of 
 their cotemporaries. 
 
 But whether the hypothefis be proved 
 to be right, or not, it is at leaft to be wim- 
 ed that it were fo j and more particularly 
 by the people of Great Britain than any 
 other nation upon earth. Becaufe from 
 
 the
 
 CHAP. XI. EDUCATION. 483 
 
 the very nature of their confutation, and 
 their happinefs in being polTeffed of fo fina 
 a language, they are now the only people 
 under the fun capable of carrying the ora- 
 torial art to as high a degree of perfection 
 as the Greeks and Romans ; and confe- 
 quently the only people who have it in 
 their power to bring the imitative arts to 
 maturity. This, if believed or known, 
 v/ould be no little incitement to induftry, 
 and no fmall inducement to apply with 
 the utmoft affiduity to the ftudy of elo- 
 quence ; an art of itfelf fo deferable, and 
 attended with fuch immediate benefit to the 
 poffeffbrs, but which would acquire a new 
 value, and become a uational concern, if 
 it were known to be productive of fuch 
 noble confequences, by it's influence on 
 the other arts. Whereas, on a contrary 
 fuppofition, mould the opinions hitherto 
 delivered upon this fubjeft be eftabl5(hed, 
 that genius is a cafual production arifing 
 from fome lucky circumftances of air and 
 climate, which have an influence upon 
 the animal fpirits, and from a happy con- 
 formation of the organs of the brain, &Cj 
 it is evident that all induflry muft be dil- 
 I i 2 couraged,
 
 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 couraged, as labour muft prove ineffectual 
 in all countries not porTeffed of fuch a 
 happy climate, and in all perions who may 
 not fuppofe themfelves formed with that 
 lucky ftructure of the organs. However 
 advocates for fuch opinions may fhew their 
 .own ingenuity, by the invention of many 
 fpecious arguments to fupport them, I 
 Should be glad to know what benefit mail- 
 kind is to reap from their labours ? or 
 what reward they fhould expect, even if 
 they were capable of demonftrating prin- 
 ciples, which indeed, in their own na- 
 ture, can be founded upon nothing but 
 conjecture; and which, if believed, might 
 be productive of great mifchief, and could 
 .not poflibly do any good ? For upon a 
 proof of their fyflem, whole nations, as 
 well as individuals, mud lay afide all at- 
 . tempts in the liberal arts, from an utter 
 defpair of meeting with iuccefs. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 485 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Good confcquences to Great Britain, Jhould 
 the above opinions be found to be true. 
 
 ON a fuppofition that my hypothecs 
 is well founded, and that the per- 
 fection of eloquence would necefTarily 
 bring on the perfection of the liberal arts, 
 I can not help here indulging myfelf in a 
 view of the many glorious advantages 
 which would refult from it to Great 
 Britain. Let us only fuppofe that the arts 
 were in as high perfection here as at Athens, 
 or Rome, (and I mall hereafter mew 
 from certain difcoveries and advantages, 
 which time has given us over the antients, 
 that they may be carried to a much higher 
 pitch) what muft necefTarily be the con- 
 fequence to this country ? 
 
 Had weamongftus fuch excellent painters 
 and fculptors as thofe of old, their works 
 would foon call upon the attention of the 
 publick to have fuitable edifices raifed to 
 be the repofitories of thefe treafures. Upon 
 proper encouragement there would not be 
 I i 3 wanting
 
 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 wanting men of true genius and capacity 
 in architecture, who applying themfclves 
 wholly to the fludy of that art> might 
 rival thofe great antients, the ruins of 
 whofe works excite in us fuch admiration. 
 J f A propofal for building a parliament- 
 ' houfe, courts of juftice, royal palate", 
 4 and other publick edifices, fuitable to 
 ' the dignity of the nation,' would not then 
 be laughed at as a vain affair ; but thefe 
 would be considered as works of neccffity, 
 and of the utmoft benefit to the country. 
 If all the publick buildings as well as pri- 
 vate palaces ( for fuch may feveral houfes 
 of our nobility be termed ) had been raifed 
 in the true ilyle of architecture ; and if 
 tbefe were every where adorned with 
 pieces of painting and fculpture, exceeding 
 thofe of all other countries ; would not 
 London be the grand emporium of arts, 
 as {lie already is of commerce ? Would 
 not perfons flock hither from all parts of 
 the world to fee and admire thefe works? 
 Does not her very fituation, and the eafe 
 with which her mores are acceffible to 
 people from all corners of the earth, give 
 
 Bp. of Cloyne. 
 
 Bnglan4
 
 CHAP, XII. EDUCATION. 487 
 
 England a natural right in this refpedl over 
 all other countries in the world ? And has 
 
 not France ravifhed this from her merely 
 
 * 
 
 by art and induftry ? Can it be doubted, 
 conlidering our great advantages in poin^ 
 of natural beauties, if we excelled the 
 French alfo in thofe of the artificial kind, 
 but that London would be more reforted 
 to by travellers from all parts of the earth 
 than Paris ? Nay, mould we not draw over 
 the French themfelves in as great abun- 
 dance as the Englifh now travel into 
 France ? Would not this be the fureft 
 means of increafing the wealth and powef 
 of England ? Her wealth, from the money 
 brought in by fuch a concourfe of foreign- 
 ers, and from the difpofal of the moft 
 valuable of her commodities, produced 
 by the ingenuity of her artifts (an inex- 
 hauflible fund ) over the whole earth ; 
 her power, from the great figure me muft 
 make, and the high eftimation in which 
 me muft be held by all other nations ; a 
 a point of more real confequence than ex- 
 tent of territory or number of forces ; 
 which has been fufficiently exemplified 
 in trie little commonwealth of Athens. 
 
 I i 4 AU
 
 488 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 All the commerce which Great Britain 
 carries on in it's feveral branches, does not 
 contribute in any degree to her advantage, 
 fomuchasafingle traffick would doinfuch. 
 commodities, as are neceflarily produced 
 by a proper cultivation of the liberal arts. 
 Nor could any thing fo effectually promote 
 her wealth, her power, her glory, and let 
 me add, her fafety. To be convinced of 
 this, we need only take a view of the 
 caufes of the prefent fplendor of France. 
 Is (he not indebted for her flourishing 
 ftate chiefly to her attention to the arts ? 
 By giving due encouragement to painting 
 and fculpture, me has produced many 
 matters, at leaft of comparative excellence, 
 in the arts of defigning, colouring, engrav- 
 ing, chafing, &c. And how greatly by this 
 means has {he enhanced the price of her 
 manufactures, in filks, laces, ornamental 
 plate, all forts of toys and famions t That it 
 is merely owing to a fuperiority in point of 
 fafhion, and defign, that the French com- 
 modities are fo much fought after, is evi- 
 dent from this circumftance, that die 
 Englifh artifans are univerfaliy allowed to 
 exceed them in point of goodnefs of work- 
 
 manfhip .
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 489 
 
 manfhip ; and had they the advantage in 
 other refpedls alfo,what infinite fums might 
 be faved to this nation, that are now car- 
 ried into France to enrich our enemies ? 
 and what large treafures might be brought 
 into this ifland from the other countries 
 of the world, and even from France her- 
 felf, to purchafe fuch commodities as 
 mould DC confefTedly fuperior to theirs ? 
 Would not this be the true way to bring 
 down the power of France, by cutting off 
 the fources of her wealth ? Would not 
 this be the means of lerTening the admi- 
 ration of her neighbours, and of raiting 
 the glory of Britain upon her ruins ? And 
 would not the weaknefs of France be the 
 fafety of England ? Let us therefore fup- 
 pofe that architecture, fculpture, with the 
 feveral arts dependent on it, painting, poe- 
 try, and mufick, were in as high a degree 
 of perfection here as at Athens, and con- 
 fequently fo far fuperior with regard to 
 their ftate in France that there could be 
 no fort of competition ; would not England 
 in this cafe be the country reforted to by 
 the travellers of the whole world ? Would 
 not our language be learned, and our noble 
 
 authors
 
 490 BRITISH BOOK HI. 
 
 authors fludied by the people of all na- 
 tions ? Would not the perfect knowlege 
 which muft then be fpread of our noble 
 conflitution, of our religon, of the glorious 
 writings of our philofophers, and divines, 
 flrike them with awe and veneration, and 
 make them acknowlege an undoubted fu- 
 perlority in us over all other countries ? 
 Would not London in this cafe become the 
 capital not of England, but of the world; 
 and England be confidered as a queen 
 among the nations ? On the contrary, 
 wiiat would be the flate of France in this 
 cafe ? Would (lie not fink proportionably 
 low as England mould be raifed ? Should 
 ours come to be fludied and univerfally 
 known, the poverty of their language 
 would,upon comparifon, bring it into con- 
 tempt, a,nd of courfc inta neglecl:. They 
 would no longer have fuch crowds of fo- 
 reigners reforting to their capital, whofe 
 residence amongfl them contributes fo 
 largely to their wealth. They would no 
 longer give the laws of fafhion to Europe, 
 but receive them from us. Their fantaf-" 
 tical pieces of workmanfliip, calculated to 
 captivate the ignorant and capricious, 
 
 we
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 491 
 
 would no longer frand the teft, when com- 
 pared with fuch as were fuperior in point 
 of true tafte founded upon good fenfe. 
 Deprived of this fort of merchandife, me 
 could have no other refourcc , as the 
 natural produce of her foil will fcarce 
 afford fufficient for the maintenance of 
 her natives. Thus that kingdom would 
 be reduced to the degree of weaknefs, 
 which is the neceifary confequence of too 
 large extent of territory without a fuffici- 
 ent number of inhabitants. The bulk of 
 the people would be poor and wretched 
 thro' want of indufhy, which would of 
 courfe flag with commerce ; and the fpi- 
 rits of the better fort would decay with 
 the glory of their country : fince nothing 
 has contributed fo much to excite in them 
 their high notions of honour, as the fan- 
 cied greatnefs of their Monarque, and the 
 apparent fuperiority which their country 
 has gained, by great art, in many points., 
 over their neighbours. But fliould the 
 fpells and charms by which me has fafci- 
 nated ail the nations round her, once be 
 broke j fiiould the fuperior genius of Bri- 
 tain prevail, and fhine fqrth in all it's 
 
 fplendor j
 
 492 B R I <T I S H BOOK III. 
 Iplendor ; the boafted glory of France 
 would vanim like a mi ft before the morn- 
 ing fun. When the eyes of Europe mould 
 be opened, and the true light mine before 
 them, they would wonder how they could 
 have been fo. long impofed upon by falfe 
 appearances, and tinfel gliftening. Thus 
 funk in the estimation of their neighbours, 
 the French would loon fink in their own ; 
 and in a (hort time, far from thinking of 
 attacking others, they would fcarce be able 
 to defend themfelves. 
 
 If the perfection of the liberal arts would 
 be the means of raifmg Great Britain, in 
 point of glory, and power, above all her 
 neighbours ; neither would it contribute 
 lefs to her domeftick order, health, and 
 happinefs. Thefe depend upon the mo- 
 rality of a nation ; and it can be demon- 
 ftrated, that the morality of a people fo 
 circumftanced as we are, and under fuch 
 a conftitution, muft in a great meafure 
 depend upon a proper cultivation of the 
 arts. This I (hall attempt to do in the 
 following manner. From the nature of 
 our lituation, which has brought on an e%* 
 tenfr/e commerce,much wealth is necefla- 
 
 rily
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 493 
 
 rily poured in upon us. This, from the 
 nature of our conftitution, is more equally 
 diffufed thro' the inhabitants, and becomes 
 more certainly their property than under 
 any other form of government. A fuper- 
 fluity of wealth of courfe increafes a de- 
 lire of pleafure (fo natural to man) as k 
 furnimes thofe who are pofiefied of it 
 with the means of gratifying that defire. 
 Now it may be confidently aflerted, that 
 no nation upon earth, in proportion to the 
 number of it's inhabitants, contains fo 
 many individuals pofleffed of more wealth 
 than is requifite to fupply the necefTaries 
 of life, as England : confequently, that 
 there is no nation where a defire of plea- 
 fure is likely to be fo epidemick. Upon 
 the right direction of this defire therefore 
 will the morality and happinefs of the 
 people in a great meafure depend. 
 
 Pleafures are of three kinds j intellec- 
 tual, which arife from the culture of 
 the understanding ; fenfitive, from the 
 gratification of the appetites, and paf- 
 fions ; and reflective, from the powers 
 of the imagination. To obtain the 
 firfl requires clofc ftudy, labour, and 
 
 appli-
 
 494 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 application ; they are likety therefore 
 only to be purfued by fuch as have their 
 fortunes to make : the fecond are com- 
 mon to all men, as well as to brutes : and 
 the laft feeru to be particularly calculated 
 for thofe whofe independent fortunes ren- 
 der it not neceffary to take the pains requi- 
 fite to arrive at the higheft degree of in- 
 tellectual pleafure, and yet whofe reafon 
 may be fufficiently improved not to give 
 themfelves wholly up to fenfual gratifica- 
 tions. 
 
 The higheft pleafures of imagination 
 arife from the imitative arts. It is of the 
 utmoft confequence therefore to an opu- 
 lent nation, that they fhould be in a proper 
 degree of perfection. Thefe pleafures, 
 being of a middle kind between the rati- 
 onal and fenfitive, and partaking of both, 
 are productive of good or bad confequ&nces 
 according as they incline moft to one or 
 the other. 
 
 When the rational is predominant, they 
 fhorten the road to wifdom, and exhibit 
 virtue in the moft amiable light : they 
 enlarge the underftanding, and better the 
 heart. But, when the fenfitive prevails, 
 
 they
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 495 
 they become bawds to the pafiions, and 
 only ferve to extend the empire of vice 
 and ignorance. 
 
 The truth of this will fufficiently ap- 
 pear, upon confidering the different effects 
 produced by the arts, according as they 
 are employed in the caufe of virtue, or of 
 vice. Nothing can convey inftruction 
 with delight, ennoble the mind, or en- 
 large the heart fo much, as good poems, 
 plays, pieces of oratory, painting and 
 feulpturc, reprefenting great and glorious 
 actions and perfons. Nothing can fo ef- 
 fectually debauch the mind and corrupt 
 the heart, as the proftitution of tkefe art? 
 to lewd and fenfual purpofes. 
 
 The morality of a nation depends there- 
 fore more upon the right direction of the 
 imitative arts than is imagined. The ex- 
 ample of the nobility, gentry, and perfons 
 of independent fortunes, is ever followed 
 by the lower clafs of people : and, when 
 that leads to fenfuality, the whole nation 
 will of courfe be corrupt. Nor can I fee, 
 as matters are circumflanced, but that the 
 rich mud, by a fatal neceffity, be plunged 
 into vice. Wealth of courfe. makes plea- 
 
 fure
 
 496 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 fure their chief object. That of the ran 
 tional kind is too laborious for perfons. 
 whofe minds and bodies have been ren- 
 dered effeminate and indolent from the 
 cafinefs of their circumftances. Whilft 
 they are impelled to the fenfual by paf- 
 iions from \vithin, and are allured by ex- 
 citements from without, they naturally 
 fall into gratifications of this kind, from 
 the eafe with which they are obtained. 
 If, therefore, the pleafures of imagination, 
 which alone could hinder them from be- 
 ing abforbed in thofe, by filling up their 
 time with delight, inflead of being of the 
 fame fide with virtue^ mould become con- 
 federates with vice ; would not all re- 
 ftraints be taken off from their unruly ap- 
 petites ? would they not be plunged into 
 fenfuality by double violence ? would they 
 not be allured to it by double charms ? 
 
 If we compare the ftate of England 
 with any other country, we {hall find, 
 from the very nature of our conftitution, 
 that the cultivation and proper direction . 
 of the pleafures of imagination, are more 
 efiTential to us than to any other people, 
 upon earth. In defpotick governments 
 
 people
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 4 
 people may be reftrained by fear from in- 
 dulging tod mUch in fenfual pleafures *, 
 td the prejudice of fociety and govern- 
 ment. In republicks, rewards, honours, 
 and emulation, may fplrit up perfons of 
 the higheft birth and fortune to labori- 
 ous ftudies, and to dedicate themfelves 
 chiefly to pleafures of the rational kind J. 
 But in Britain, where the rich need not 
 fear puniihments, and where rewards are 
 not the necefTary confequences of im- 
 proved abilities j nothing can poffibly 
 hinder perfons of independent fortunes 
 from laying themfelves out chiefly for the 
 gratification of their fenfual appetites, but 
 a true tafte for the liberal arts, and a right 
 enjoyment of the pleafures of imagina- 
 tion* 
 
 Nothing elfe can form a fufficient bar- 
 rier againft the deviations of luxury, 
 and the inevitable deftru&ion which is 
 ever it's attendant. A learned luxury" 
 does not add fo much to the ornament, 
 as the flrength of a nation. It ennobles 
 K k the 
 
 * Of this there is a remarkable inftance in the abflU 
 nence of the Turks from wine. 
 
 J The h'.ltones of the Greek and Roman republicks 
 abound with inilances of this fort.
 
 498 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 the mind, and excites an ardor for great 
 and heroick atchievements. It gives an 
 higher relim, for liberty and virtue, and 
 teaches men how to fet a true value on 
 thofe ineftimable bleflings. It is an an- 
 tidote againfl the poifonous qualities of 
 exceflive wealth, and makes fuperfluity 
 falutary to a nation. There is no fear that 
 money can be poured too fail into a coun- 
 try, or be productive of any bad effects, 
 where the arts flourim, and a general good 
 tafte for them prevails. In fuch cafe, the 
 endeavours to merit reward would in- 
 creafe in proportion to the power of re- 
 warding j the number of artifts, to the 
 number of encouragers j and no fund of 
 wealth can be more copious or inexhaufti- 
 ble than the fund of genius. Let us fup- 
 pofe this to be the ftate of Britain ; let us 
 fuppofe a fufficient number of real artifts, 
 and a fufficient quantity of true tafte in 
 the people 5 how glorioufly might the fu- 
 perfluity of the rich be employed in re- 
 warding merit, in encouraging genius, and 
 in purchafing their noble productions ? 
 How much more delightfully to them- 
 felves, as well as beneficially to their coun- 
 ty*
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 499 
 try, might their time be employed in the 
 ftudy of thefe agreeable arts, and in the 
 rational enjoyments which they beftow ; 
 than in gaming, drinking, and all the 
 other modi(h amufements ? 
 
 It was to the want of pleafures of this 
 kind, that all the great empires of the 
 world chiefly owed their deftruclion. 
 When conqueft introduced wealth, and 
 Wealth Simulated a defire of pleafure, 
 the rich had none to chufe but of the fen- 
 fual kind. Intemperance debafed their 
 minds, and enervated their bodies. Thus 
 they fell an eafy prey to the firft warlike 
 people that attacked them. Their con- 
 querors in their turn, allured by the fame 
 delights, were diflblved in voluptuoufnefs, 
 and met with the fame fate from fome 
 more hardy people. Thus fell the mighty 
 empires of the A {Tynans, Perfians, Medes, 
 Egyptians, 6tc. If it be faid that Athens 
 and Rome alfo fell, tho' the liberal arts 
 were carried in both places to the highefl 
 perfection, it can be (hewn that their ruin 
 was not owing to the fame caufe. The 
 (lamina of thole, flates were bad, the vitals 
 were uniound 5 and, far from wondering 
 Kk2 at
 
 I T A p UOH HX 
 50 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 at their difiblution, we ought only to be 
 lurprifed how they lafted fo long. It can 
 be fhewn, that the cultivation of the arts 
 contributed much to prolong their date ; 
 but no remedy could have been effectual; 
 when the difeafe was mortal. With re- 
 fpecl: to Athens, it is well known that me 
 was indebted for her rife, and the great 
 figure me made in the world, to the arts ; 
 but her ambition increafed with her flou- 
 riming flate, and far exceeded her power. 
 The extreme jealoufy which the Athe- 
 nians had of their liberty, by it's excefs, 
 degenerated into a vice ; and the oflra- 
 cifm, introduced by it, often brought them 
 into danger, by depriving the ftate of it's 
 ableft guardians. It is true that the em- 
 pire of the fea gave Athens a power, to 
 which (he was not at all entitled from the 
 fmall extent of her territories. The ob- 
 fervation made by Montefquieu upon this 
 head, is well worth the attention of every 
 Englimman. The pafTage is this. ' But 
 
 * this Athenian lordmip of the feas, de- 
 
 * ferves to be more particularly mentioned. 
 4 Athens, fays Xenophon, rules the fea ; 
 
 * but as the country of Attica is joined to 
 
 'the
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 501 
 
 ' the continent, it is ravaged by enemies, 
 ' while the Athenians are engaged in 
 f diftant expeditions. Their leaders fuf- 
 c fer their lands to be deftroyed, and fe 
 e cure their wealth by fending it to fome 
 ' ifland. The populace, who are not 
 ' pofTefled of lands, have no uneafinefs. 
 ' But if the Athenians inhabited an ifland, 
 ' and befides this, enjoyed the empire of 
 e the fea, they would, as long as they were 
 e pofiefled of thefe advantages, be able to 
 ' annoy others, and at the fame time be 
 4 out of all danger of being annoyed/ 
 Montefquieu's obfervation upon the above 
 paflage from Xenophon is this ; ' One 
 
 * would imagine that Xenophon was fpeak- 
 
 * ing of England.* 
 
 Here we may fee that the naval power 
 of Athens muft have received continual 
 checks from the nature of her fituation j 
 and that her victories at fea might at any 
 time be ballanced by the deftruftion of 
 her territories, and even her city. In this 
 refped: therefore it will at once occur what 
 an amazing advantage Great Britain has 
 over her. But wheii we confider the fr/iali 
 Dumber of her citizens, which feldom 
 K k 3
 
 5 o2 BRITISH BOOK 111. 
 amounted to more than twenty- thoufand, 
 we mall rather have occafion to wonder at 
 the degree of power to which her ftate 
 was raifed, and that (he was ahle fo long 
 to maintain it, than at it's deftruftion. The 
 utmoft activity in each individual was ab- 
 jblutely neceflary to the prefervatfon of fo 
 fraall a body. When therefore the ftudy 
 if philofophy became pretty general a- 
 mongft them j when the contemplative 
 *?as preferred to the active life; when per- 
 fons of the greateft abilities amongft them 
 withdrew from publick affairs to the con- 
 fideration of their own private happinefs -, 
 the ftate was of courfe deprived of the 
 beft heads to direct it, and the braveft 
 hearts to defend it. And this alone was 
 fufficient to brinsron the ruin of Athens. 
 
 o 
 
 If we even add, that the very means 
 which raifed them to greatnefs, if not 
 properly retrained, mull: produce their 
 cleftrudtion ; that the too great indul- 
 gence to a love * of the liberal arts muft 
 
 have 
 
 * The love of the arts muft have got to a raoft vicious 
 height, when the people expended larger Turns in the de- 
 cor .t\oi\ of their theatre than in a long war ; and when 
 they would not confent, even tho' reduced to extremity, 
 
 that
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION. 503 
 have had as bad effects with refpect to ths 
 fafety of fuch a fmall body, as the love 
 of vice in larger ftates : if we allow that 
 a learned luxury, becoming epidemical 
 amongft a few thoufands, might as effec- 
 tually difqualify them from the activity 
 necefiary to the prefervation of their coun- 
 try, as that of the fenfual kind amongft 
 millions j the argument will not be con- 
 clufive againft the arts themfelves, but 
 againft the abufe of them : nor fhould 
 it be any difcouragement to the cultivation 
 of thofe arts in another country otherwife 
 circumftanced. The ftate of Athens in 
 this cafe muft as necefTarily become a 
 bankrupt, as a man of a private fortune 
 who would endeavour, in thefe forts of 
 expences, to emulate a prince. But we 
 may fay that the eftate of Britain, with 
 refpect to that of Athens, is immenfe ; 
 and that {he may afford to lay out in fu- 
 perfluities what would have beggared the 
 other. Were a number equal to the 
 whole body of the citizens of Athens em- 
 
 that any part of the fund raifcd for the fuf port of their 
 publick diverfions mould be applied to the exigences of die 
 itate , and voted him an enemy to his country who fhould 
 make fuch a motion. 
 
 K k 4 ployed
 
 5 c 4 J? R I r I S H Boon III. 
 ployed here . wholly in the liberal arts, 
 they would not be mified in the ftate ; 
 and there would fiill be many. millions 
 left, out .of which guardians might be 
 chofen for the publick fafety, both in 
 point of couniel and valour. iw 
 
 Yet we fee, under all their difadvan- 
 tages, what noble efforts this polifhed 
 people made for their liberty (efforts never 
 known in thofe undone by fenfual luxuryJnJ 
 and how long their fate was deferred by 
 the oratory of one fmgle man. 
 
 The detraction of the Roman repub-r 
 lick was alib owing to a conftitutional dif- 
 eafe. The eftabiifbment of the tribunitial 
 authority was an incurable wound in the 
 very vitals of this ftate. This is admi- 
 rably explained by the all-piercing genius 
 of ourShakefpear, where he makes Cono-sHl 
 lanus fay, 
 
 j- * And my foul akes 
 1 To know, when two authorities are up, 
 c Neither fuprerne, how foon confufion 
 
 * May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and 
 
 * take . M ,p 
 
 * The one by the other/ 
 
 I Uriel, aa iU. fccnf i 
 
 This
 
 CHAP. XII. EDUCATION, coc 
 
 j -* 
 
 This was the fourCe of perpetual feud,s 
 and contefls j and the people at length, 
 grown weary of fuch an unquiet and tur- 
 bulent life, were prepared to welcome 
 any change of government. Every one 
 who is acquainted with the flory of Sylla 
 muft fee, that his tyranny might have taken 
 place fooner, had it not been for his ex- 
 traordinary moderation. And it is well 
 known that, as Demofthenes for fome 
 time refpited the fate of Athens, fo did 
 Cicero, by his eloquence, that of Rome ; 
 which otherwife, inflead of aCsefar, might 
 have owned Catiline for a matter. But it 
 is well worth obferying, that Rome never 
 appeared in fach glory, never enjoyed 
 fuch happinefs at home, nor was fo much 
 refpefted abroad, as during the time that 
 the arts flourished in their higheft degree 
 of perfection. When they difappeared, 
 fenfuality alone took place, produced the 
 fame effects at Rome as in other great 
 empires, and brought about her total de- 
 flruction. She depended on her con- 
 quefts, and univerfal dominion, for her 
 prefervation ; but the empire perimed 
 by it's own unwieldinefs, ^nd Rome fell 
 
 by
 
 506 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 by her own ftrength. Here we may 
 take notice of the advantage which Great 
 Britain has over thofe two famous nations, 
 from her very fituation. As an ifland, (lie 
 is free from the dangers to which Athens 
 was always expofed ; and as an ifland alfo, 
 {he is retrained from that fatal defire of 
 extending her conquers, which has ever 
 proved the ruin of all ambitious coun- 
 tries. 
 
 Since therefore the arts might be of 
 fuch advantage to the profperity of Bri- 
 tain ; fmce we might enjoy all the benefits 
 refulting from them, in as high a degree 
 as the Athenians did, without any danger- 
 ous confequences to be feared from them; 
 lince they might contribute to our glory 
 as much as they did to that of Rome, 
 whilft they refided there, without fear of 
 their vanifhing fo foon, as the native ex- 
 cellence of our conflitution affords ftrong 
 hopes of it's prefervation ; what caufe can 
 be aligned that they have hitherto made 
 fo fmall a progrefs in this ifland ? Is there 
 any thing in the foil not congenial to 
 them ? Is there an impoflibility of their 
 rlouriming here ? This is worth enquiry. 
 
 2 CHAP/
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 507 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Whether it is not probable that the arts 
 might arrive at as high a pitch in this 
 country, as at Athens or Rome ? 
 
 IT has been before obferved, that to 
 the perfection of the imitative arts 
 four things are chiefly neceflary ; viz. 
 genius, application, proper fubjects, and 
 fuitable inftruments. Let us fee how the 
 people of Great Britain ftand with refpect 
 to thefe four articles. And firft, as to ge^ 
 nius. 
 
 The inftances of the force of genius in 
 the natives of this country with regard to 
 the imitative arts, are too many and too ap- 
 parent to need any enumeration. Where- 
 ever they have had living fubjecls to draw 
 from, they have not failed to produce the 
 flrongeft refemblance, and the moft for- 
 cible exprefiion. If they have failed in 
 the more exalted views of human nature, 
 it is becaufe there were no where proper 
 objects in life to be found, from which 
 they might receive the impreffion. Ho- 
 garth
 
 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 garth has admirably reprefented fuch ria- 
 ture as he found. Our writers of co- 
 medy have out-done all the refl of the 
 world in the variety as well as exact draw- 
 ing of the characters from the life. Our 
 ti agick authors indeed, one only excepted, 
 for the above reafon have fallen very fhort 
 in theirs. Mr. Garr: k muft be allowed 
 to be inimitable in the reprefentation of 
 fuch comick characters as he has an op- 
 portunity of obferving in the world ; nor 
 dees he fall mort of equal perfection in 
 f*ch parts of tragick characters as can be 
 taken from life. The forcible and na- 
 tural expreffion of his madnefs in Lear 
 could hardly have been reprefented in 
 fuch lively colours, had he not borrowed 
 it from the fchool of nature, from Bedlam. 
 This reminds me of the excellent figures 
 of the two lunaticks, done by Gibber. 
 Nor can it be doubted, from the place 
 where they fcand, and the opportunities 
 which he muft have nad, but that the 
 admirable expreffion to be feen in thofe 
 ftatues was taken immediately from life. 
 This is the" more likely when it is con- 
 : credthat none of his other works con- 
 
 tributeii
 
 CHAP.XHI. ED U CATION. 509 
 
 tributed much to his honour, in which, 
 like the reft of his fraternity, he proba- 
 bly contented himfelf with copying other 
 matters. 
 
 But tho' there never had been any in- 
 ftance of this fort, tho' there never had 
 been any production in the arts worthy of 
 admiration, I fhould not {till hefitate to 
 conclude, that Great Britain has abounded 
 more with genius than any other country 
 in the globe ; however, it has been ob- 
 fcured for want of encouragement, or bu- 
 ried thro' want of opportunity to difplay 
 itfelf : for this unanfwerable reafon j that 
 the perfection of the imitative arts is more 
 neceflary to the well-being of Britain, 
 than to any other nation upon earth ; and 
 providence furnifhes all countries, in the 
 moft liberal manner, with whatever is 
 mod neceflary to their well-being. But 
 we do not want inftances ; no, by the im- 
 mortal names of Milton and Shakefpear, 
 we do not want inftances of the nobleft 
 kind ! When we confider the hiftory of 
 thefe men, and the concurrence of won- 
 derful circumflances which produced their 
 admirable writings ; there appears to be 
 - fomething
 
 5 io B R I riS H BOOK III. 
 
 fomcthing miraculous throughout. As to 
 Milton, it is well known that he palled 
 the moft vigorous of his years in flate af- 
 fairs, and difagreeable controverfies. Had 
 he not outlived Cromwell, we fhould 
 never have known him as a favourite of 
 the mufes. After the reftoration, if his 
 life had not been preferved by extraor- 
 dinary means, when he was particularly 
 marked out for deftruction ; the Paradiie 
 loft had never been written, and that fir ft 
 of poets would never have thrown iuch 
 a luftre on the Englim nation. And un- 
 der what circumftances was this great 
 work performed ? DiftrefTed in his affairs, 
 deprived of his fight, advanced in years, 
 tormented by the moft acute diforders, 
 furrounded with perils, and the object of 
 hatred and contempt to the greatest part 
 of his countrymen. Under fuch circum- 
 ftances was the nobleft poem that ever ap- 
 peared in any age or country, begun and 
 finifhed. What but the moft vivid genius 
 that ever animated a human breaft could 
 have infpired fuch an undertaking, or 
 fupported him in the profecution of it r 
 But when we confider the poor reward 
 
 which
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 511 
 
 which attended his labours, the cold re- 
 ception which his work met with in that 
 taftelefs age j that it lay for a long time on 
 his bookfellcr's hands as wafte paper; 
 what mail we fay to his perfeverance un- 
 der thefe difcouragements, to his writing- 
 other pieces inimitable in their kind, and 
 only excelled by his own great work ? 
 Can it be accounted for on any other prin- 
 ciple than that he was favoured with a 
 larger portion of etherial fire, than ever 
 yet was beftowed on mortal ? 
 
 The ftory of Shakefpear is well known. 
 That he had but a flender education, and 
 ferved an apprenticeihip, in a country 
 town, to a mechanical trade, in which 
 occupation he might probably have con- 
 tinued all his days, had not the danger in- 
 curred on account of a youthful frolick in 
 deer-ftealing forced him to fly to London. 
 There chance and want, not any fpur- 
 rings of genius, led him to the ftage. At 
 that time it was the cuflom to ad plays 
 in the day-time, and perfons of fafhion, 
 inftead of going in coaches, ufed to ride 
 to the theatre. The firft employment of 
 onr Shakefpear was to hold fome of their 
 
 horfes
 
 E k i r i s H BOOK iii. 
 
 horfes for hire ; which for a time afforded 
 him a livelihood. Being often obferved 
 by fome of the performers in this low of- 
 fice, and having fomething promifing in 
 his afpect, he was at length introduced be- 
 hind the fcenes in quality of prompter's 
 boy. Such were the beginnings, fuch 
 was the introduction of that great genius 
 into that field of action, where he after- 
 wards difplaycd his powers in fo aftonim- 
 ing a manner. Here is another glaring 
 inftance of the fuperiority of Englifh ge- 
 nius over that of all other countries. For 
 by the force of that alone, without edu* 
 cation, without opportunities of improve- 
 ment, without the excitements of fame, 
 or confiderable profit, when the ftage 
 was as yet in it's infancy, and the national 
 tafte univerfally bad ; has this man out- 
 done, in the moft eflential points of his 
 art, all the great writers of Greece and 
 Rome, who were amply fupplied with all 
 poffible means of cultivating their talents 
 to the utmoft, who were (Simulated to 
 difplay them in the higheft perfection, by 
 the mod ample rewards, that ambition, love, 
 of fame, or defire of wealth could grafp at. 
 
 Thefe
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 513 
 Thefe two great men feem to have been 
 placed by the hand of Providence upon an 
 eminence, like two large beacons, to il- 
 luminate the land ; that his goodnefs 
 might be feen by all, and his ways jufli- 
 fied to man: to fhew his parental care 
 over his creatures, in fupplying them with 
 whatever is needful to their happinefs : 
 to give an evident proof of his juft diftri- 
 butions, that, as Britain flood more in 
 need of genius than any other country in 
 the world, fo he had fupplied it with a 
 larger (hare. But, tho' the Almighty may 
 fometimes work wonders, in companion 
 to our weaknefs, and to affift our blind- 
 nefs i yet, when our eyes are opened, and 
 proper information received, all is done 
 on his part j and we are left to ourfelves 
 to make a proper ufe of the grace which 
 he has vouchfafed to us. Tho' two have 
 arifen amongft us who feem to have been 
 infpired, and to have been conduct- 
 ed to their point of perfection by means 
 preternatural ; yet it is from application 
 and encouragement alone that we can 
 hope to fee. many fuch. For want of 
 thefe, who can tell now many Miltons 
 L 1 may
 
 5 i 4 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 may have been loft in the purfuits of 
 worldly interefts and grandeur, and how 
 many Shakefpears may have been hid be- 
 hind counters ? If we continue in the 
 fame inattention to fuch material points, 
 who can tell how many prefent, and fu- 
 ture geniufes, capable of contributing to 
 the benefit and ornament of this country, 
 in the higheft degree, may be wholly ab- 
 forbed in worldly purfuits ? 
 
 Upon the whole it may be concluded with 
 certainty, that it is not for want of genius 
 that Britain has not excelled all other 
 countries in the liberal arts ; but fome- 
 thing elfe : what that is let us now en- 
 quire. The next point to be conndered 
 is application. 
 
 Application in one country is as much 
 conftitutional, as indolence is in another. 
 The difference of climates is the caufe of 
 thefe different effects. A happy tempe- 
 rature of air produces the one, extremes of 
 heat or cold the other. 'Tis as painful to 
 the people to be without employment in 
 the firft, as it is to them to enter upon or 
 continue in action in the laft. In the one 
 they fet themfelves to work, in order to 
 
 avoid
 
 CHAP.XHI. EDUCATION. 515 
 
 avoid uneafmefs ; in the other, they muft 
 be allured to labour by reward, or driven 
 to it by punimment. Perhaps there never 
 was a people in the world fo conftitu- 
 tionally induftrious as the Englifh ; nor 
 can all hiftory produce fo many examples 
 of great works, wherein the mental 
 powers are difplayed in the moft extraor- 
 dinary manner; undertaken and carried 
 on with fo little afliftance or encourage- 
 ment. Their labours feem to have been 
 the refult of an internal active principle, 
 and to have been but little influenced by 
 external caufes. If therefore to this con- 
 ftitutional activity, there mould be added 
 all the aids neceflary to quicken their pro- 
 grefs, and all due encouragement to chear 
 and enliven their fpirits in their fatiguing 
 purfuits ; can it be a matter of doubt whe- 
 ther the Englifh would exceed all other 
 nations, antient and modern, as much in 
 application as they do in genius ? 
 
 Proper fubjedls come next to be con- 
 fidered. It has been already hewn, that 
 proper fubjects for the imitative arts, 
 which are calculated only for the ufe and 
 delight of man, muft be fuch as can con- 
 L 1 2 tribute
 
 5 i6 B K I r IS H BOOK III. 
 tribute moft to his advantage and plea- 
 fare : and that therefore views of human 
 nature, in it's moft exalted and beautiful 
 ftate, are the fitteft fubjeds for imitation, 
 as being moft likely to anfwer thofe ends. 
 To know what that ftate is; we need only 
 
 f 1 
 
 enquire into thofe points which particu- 
 larly diftinguifh the human from the brute 
 creation, and give man the great fuperi- 
 ority over all other animals. The moft 
 obvious diftinction of all is that of fpeech, 
 without which reafon would in a manner 
 be ufelefs to us. By fpeech I do not here 
 mean the mere articulation of words, a fa- 
 culty which fome birds have as well as 
 we, but the power of communicating our 
 thoughts to each other in their full force, 
 and imprefTing them ftrongly on the 
 minds of the hearers, by means of fuitable 
 and concomitant tones, geftures, and 
 looks. It is this fort of fpeech which digni- 
 | fies man above all other creatures, and 
 which places him in the moft confpicuous 
 point of view. Atchievements in war, 
 and deeds of arms, may excite our won- 
 der, and aftonifh our fancy ; but views of 
 this fort are only of human nature de-
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 517 
 formed, and degraded j as the higheft 
 .courage, fhewn on thefe occafions, does 
 not exceed that of brute beads. Reafon, 
 and the power of communicating it, are 
 the great characterifticks of man j and it 
 is from the proper exercife of thefe talents 
 alone, that ufeful and delightful views of 
 human nature can be taken. A complete 
 orator, when he fpeaks in publick, prefents 
 at once to view, all the perfections both 
 of mind and body with which it hath 
 pleafed God to adorn man, and which are 
 never feen together in equal force or 
 beauty in any other perfon, or upon any 
 other occafion. Here then alone is to be 
 found the true pattern for the imitative 
 arts, the only jufl model for the poet, the 
 mufician, the painter, the ilatuary to copy 
 from. If we therefore are more deficient 
 in fabjecls, than the artifls of Athens and 
 Rome, it muft be our own fault ; lince 
 our talents can not be faid to be inferior, 
 and fince we have every excitement to the 
 fludy of oratory which they had, and ra- 
 ther in a ftronger degree. 
 
 The lad point to be confidered was that 
 of fuitable inftruments. In this refpecl it 
 
 L 1 3 can
 
 518 B & 1 ? 1 S H BOOK III. 
 can not be doubted but that we have 
 amazing advantages over the antients. 
 With regard to mufical inftruments, from 
 a view of the ftructure of theirs, it is im- 
 poflible they could have been fo per- 
 fect as thofe of later invention. In paint- 
 ing we are pofleffed of all the colours 
 which they had, and have many fuper- 
 added, by our commerce with theEaft and 
 Weft-Indies, which muft have been un- 
 known to them. All jnflruments ufed in 
 fculpture, graving, &c. are with us in the 
 higheft degree of perfection : and were 
 the Englifh language properly cultivated-, 
 it would be found to be a much more com- 
 plete inftrument for the ufe of poets than 
 what they were poiTefTed of. 
 
 If therefore upon the whole we excel 
 them in genius, application, and inftru- 
 ments ; what can there be wanting to 
 make the arts flourim more here than 
 ever they did in Athens or Rome, but pro- 
 per fubjects, and due encouragement ? It 
 has been already (hewn how proper fub- 
 jecTis are to be obtained j and due en- 
 couragement, from the verv nature of our 
 
 O J 
 
 conftitution, can proceed only from a ge- 
 neral
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 519 
 
 neral good tafte in the people ; which 
 mufl arife from the fame fource as the 
 fubjedts. The quantity of the one will 
 necefTarily increafe in proportion to the 
 number of the other. 
 
 When we confider that the cultivation 
 of the arts is abfolutely necelTary to the 
 well-being of this country; that the 
 means are proportioned to the neceffity ; 
 that, as luxury mufl be a neceflary difeafe 
 here, and likely to rage with more vio- 
 lence than any where elfe, the grand phy- 
 fician increafed the quantity and power of 
 the medicine ; that there was an uncom- 
 mon flrength of conftitution given to 
 ftruggle with the diforder, and the benign 
 influence of the pureft religion fuperad- 
 ded : we can not but conclude, that this 
 nation has been more peculiarly favoured 
 by Providence than any other upon earth. 
 When we confider, that from our very 
 fituation we are lefs liable to be attacked 
 by enemies than any other great people 
 ever were, and by the fame means we 
 are alfo precluded from the folly of ambi- 
 tion in endeavouring to extend our domi- 
 nions by conqueft, which has ever ended 
 L 1 4 in
 
 520 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 in the ruin of the greatefh empires ; that 
 the intellectual faculties were never dif- 
 played in fo high a degree as by the na- 
 tives of this country in their learches into 
 philofophy, and all manner of fcience ; 
 that the people Teem to be born with the 
 beft natural difpofitions, and are above all 
 others remarkably brave, generous, cha^ 
 ritable, and humane ; why does not Bri- 
 tain at this day, eclipfe in all things, all 
 other nations that either do or have ex- 
 ifted ? why may me not promife durar- 
 tion to her ftate 'till time mall be no 
 more ? 
 
 But with all thefe amazing advantages, 
 a view of our prefent fituation, drawn by 
 a * mafterly hand, it is to be feared is too 
 juft to leave room for fo agreeable a pic- 
 ture, or to afford fuch flattering profpecls. 
 The prefent ftate of Britain is thus repre- 
 fented by one of the wifeft men, and of 
 the moft penetrating genius, that any age 
 or country has produced. * It muft be 
 
 * owned,that little can be hoped if we con- 
 
 * fider the corrupt degenerate age we live 
 ' in. I know it is an old folly to make 
 
 * The blffiop of Cloyne. 
 
 ' peeviih
 
 CHAP. XIII. E D U C AT I O N. 521 
 
 c peevim complaints of the times, and 
 c charge the common failures of human 
 c nature on a particular age. One may 
 1 neverthelefs venture to affirm, that the 
 1 prefent hath brought forth new and por- 
 ' tentous villainies, not to be parallelled -in 
 ' our own or any other hiftory. We have 
 
 * been long preparing for fome great ca- \/ 
 < taitrophe. Vice and villainy have by 
 
 1 degrees grown reputable amongft us; 
 c our infidels have pafled for fine gentle - 
 ' men, and our venal traitors for men of 
 
 * fenfe, who knew the world. We have , 
 
 * made a jeft of publick fpirit, and can- 
 ' celled all refpect for whatever our laws 
 
 c and religion repute facred. The old . 
 
 * Englim modefty is quite worn off, and 
 
 * inftead of blufhing for our crimes, we 
 
 * are amamed only of piety and virtue. 
 
 ( In mort, other nations have been wicked,.^ 
 
 * but we are the firft who have beeq^* 
 ' wicked upon principle. 
 
 1 The truth is, our fymptoms are fo 
 ? bad, that notwithstanding all the care 
 ' and vigilance of the legiflature, it is to 
 
 * be feared the final period of our ftate v 
 
 * approaches. Strong conftitutions, whe- 
 
 * ther
 
 522 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 ' ther politick or natural, do not feel light 
 4 diforders. But when they are fenfibly 
 affefted, the diftemper is for the moft 
 part violent, and of ill prognoftick. Free 
 4 governments, like our own, were planted 
 ' by the Goths in moft parts of Europe ; 
 
 * and, tho' we all know what they are 
 4 come to, yet we feem difpofed rather to 
 
 * follow their example than to profit by it. 
 
 * Whether it be in the order of things, 
 4 that civil ftates mould have, like natu- 
 
 * ral products, their feveral periods of 
 
 * growth, perfection, and decay ; or whe- 
 f tlrer it be an effect, as feems more pro- 
 
 * bable, of human folly, that as induftry 
 
 * produces wealth, fo wealth fhould pro- 
 
 * duce vice, and vice ruin. 
 
 4 God grant the time be not near, when 
 
 * men mall fay, this ifland was once inha- 
 
 * bited by a religious, brave, fincere peo- 
 ' pie, of plain uncorrupt manners, refpect- 
 4 ing inbred worth, rather than titles and 
 4 appearances ; aflertors of liberty, lovers 
 c of their country, jealous of their own 
 4 rights, and unwilling to infringe the 
 4 rights of others ; improvers of learning 
 
 * and ufeful arts, enemies to luxury, ten- 
 
 4 'der
 
 CHAP. XIII. EDUCATION. 523 
 
 c der of other men's lives, and prodigal of 
 
 * their own ; inferior in nothing to the 
 
 * old Greeks or Romans, and fuperior to 
 c each of thofe people in the perfections 
 
 * of the other. Such were our anceftors 
 ' during their rife and greatnefs ; but they 
 
 * degenerated, grew fervile flatterers of 
 ' men in power, adopted epicurean noti- 
 4 ons, became venal, corrupt, injurious ; 
 ' which drew upon them the hatred of 
 
 * God and man, and occalioned their final 
 < ruin.' 
 
 This is but a melancholy picture of our 
 prefent condition, and affords but a gloomy 
 profpedl: of what is to come. But, de 
 republica nunquam defperandum^ was an 
 old Roman maxim, and ought much 
 more to be a Britim one. There is a cer- 
 tain vigour, an innate ftrength in our con- 
 ftitution, peculiar to ourfelves, which may 
 give us hopes of reviving, even when fuch 
 fymptoms are upon us, as in any other 
 age or nation would be reckoned fure 
 prognofticks of approaching ruin. We 
 are favoured by Providence with fingular 
 bleflings, which no other country ever 
 equally enjoyed. It is the abufe, or ne- 
 
 gledl
 
 524 B R 1 r 1 'H BOOK IH. 
 
 gleft of thefe, which has been the caufe 
 of our decay, and we only want to know 
 and apply them to their right ufe, to be 
 inflantly reftored to health, as by a charm. 
 This, as the bifhop of Cloyne has in ano- 
 ther place (I hope) prophetically faid, 
 ' might not only prevent our final ruin, 
 ' but alfo render us a more happy and 
 
 * flourishing people than ever.' 
 
 It is an obfervation of Dr. Swift, that 
 ' there are few who turn their thoughts 
 ' to examine how the difeafes in a ftate 
 ' are bred, that haften it's end ; which 
 
 * would however be a very ufe'ful enquiry, 
 ' For altho' we can not prolong the period 
 e of a commonwealth beyond the decree 
 c of heaven, or the date of it's nature, any 
 
 * more than human life beyond the 
 ' ftrength of the feminal virtue ; yet we 
 
 * may manage a fickly conftitution, and 
 
 * preferve a ftrong one ; we may watch 
 ' and prevent accidents ; we may turn off 
 ' a great blow from without, and purge 
 1 away an ill humour that is lurking 
 4 within : and, by thefe, and other fuch 
 c methods, render a flate long-lived, altho 1 
 
 * not immortal/ 
 
 IF
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 525 
 
 If therefore the caufe of our disorders 
 be once known, it will probably not be 
 difficult to find a remedy. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 *The chief diforders of Britain traced to one 
 fource, 
 
 WHY fhould we look for any other 
 caufe of the decay of religion, 
 but the contempt of the clergy ? and the 
 contempt of the clergy is fufficiently ac- 
 counted for from their incapacity to dlf- 
 charge the principal duties of their office, 
 thro' a material defect in education. The 
 decay of morality has in all countries ever 
 followed that of religion; and this mufl be 
 more particularly the cafe, where the 
 perfons appointed to be it's teachers and 
 guardians are fo unequal to the tafk. 
 
 Want of knowlege, and a quantity of 
 falfe knowlege, far worfe than none, are 
 the neceflary confequences in a country, 
 of not ftudying and underftanding the 
 language which is moft generally read. 
 
 The
 
 526 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 
 The low ftate of the arts is owing to a 
 falfe tafte, and falfe tafle proceeds from a 
 want of ufing the proper means, early in 
 life, of procuring a true one. 
 
 If our legiflators have at any time afted 
 wrong, how could it be otherwife ex- 
 pefted, when there is no care taken in 
 their education to qualify them for the 
 difcharge of fo important an office ? 
 
 If the bulk of our nobility and gentry 
 give themfelves up to luxury, is it any 
 wonder, when their affluence fets them 
 above the more laborious inveftigations 
 of reafon -, when they are not fupplied 
 with the rational pleafures of imagination, 
 but on the contrary, are debauched by 
 the corrupt flate of thofe, and Ml more 
 Simulated to gratify fenfual appetites ? 
 
 Is it any wonder that the reft of the 
 nation mould follow their example ? 
 
 The infinite variety of opinions is not at all 
 furprifing, nor that there fhould be as many 
 fects of philofophers in England as ever 
 have appeared in the world -, fince great 
 pains are taken, in the education of youth, 
 to make them acquainted with all thefe ; 
 and, at the moil dangerous time of life, 
 
 i/o i. when
 
 CHAP. XIV, EDUCATION. 527 
 when the judgement has leaft power, they 
 are left to themfelves to adopt what opi- 
 nions they pleafe, and to flick by fuch as 
 are mod agreeable to them. Is it any . 
 wonder that their raw and weak under- 
 flandings, bewildered in fuch a maze of 
 fyftems, mould make their efcape from 
 them into the lefs perplexing regions of 
 fcepticifm ? 
 
 That this ifland mould abound more 
 in fuicide than any other country upon 
 earth, will no longer appear flrange, when 
 it is confidered, that nothing brings on 
 the t&dium *vit<z fo much as want of em- 
 ployment : and no education in the world 
 qualifies men lefs for the active life than 
 ours ; though, from the very genius of 
 the people, and the nature of our confti- 
 tution, that ought to be it's chief end. 
 When perfons, born with a reftlefs active 
 difpofition, do not find proper employ- 
 ment, or are engaged in fuch as is not: 
 fuitable to their genius ; life becomes a 
 burthen to them. This is a more rational 
 way to account for the frequency of that 
 crime, than to attribute it to the peculiar 
 qualities of our air, &c. Why is fo fair a 
 
 plea
 
 528 B It I r I S H . BOOK III. 
 plea offered- why are any arguments 
 urged to palliate fo atrocious a crime ? 
 Why is the climate arraigned, and Pro- 
 vidence blafphemed, to excufe felf-mur- 
 der, upon a principle contrary to reaibn 
 and facl ? It is to be fuppofed that our 
 climate has been always the fame, and 
 yet there was a time when that crime was 
 as little known here as in any other 
 country. In the reign of Elizabeth, 
 when all found employment, it was 
 hardly heard of -, and the great frequency 
 of it has been but of a very fhort oate, 
 and fince many people have had little to 
 do. A gentleman, in a well-known re- 
 K cent inftance, gave the true reafon why it 
 is grown fo common, in a letter which, 
 juft before he mot himfelf, he wrote to 
 his friends, who were then waiting for 
 him at a tavern j wherein he faid, that 
 he was grown weary of buckling and un- 
 buckling his fhoes every day. 
 
 Why is the climate called in upon all 
 occafions, as a general folution for all 
 fuch difficulties as are above the capacities 
 of our minute philofophers ? Why is it to 
 the changeablenefs of that, and to liberty, 
 
 that
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 529 
 
 that the variety of manners, difpolitions, 
 tempers, and humours in individuals, the 
 infinite number effects in philofophy, re- 
 ligion, and politicks, are imputed ? The 
 climate has not always produced the fame 
 effects in this country; nor has liberty 
 done it in others ; why may they not all 
 be referred to their true fource, edu- 
 "cation ? By that our opinions and notions 
 "are formed ; and by thofe our actions are 
 governed. 
 
 How is it poffible that the Britifh con- 
 Jftitution can flourish, when the education 
 of their youth is neither fuited to it's end, 
 it's nature, or it's principles ? 
 
 In Athens and Rome there were two 
 fyflems of education, which prevailed at 
 two different ceras ; one in their flourifh- 
 ing, the other in their corrupt ftate. In 
 the firft, oratory and philofophy were 
 united ; and the youth were trained up to 
 be not only wife, but active members of 
 fociety. In the laft, philofophy became 
 the only iludy j the active was changed 
 for the contemplative life j their time was 
 chiefly employed in empty difquifitions, 
 and difputes about trifles ; they, for the 
 M m mod
 
 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 moft part, became wife only in their own 
 conceit, and were utterly incapacitated 
 from being of any ufe to the publick. By 
 this latter education chiefly was Athens 
 deftroyed ; and this was the fyftem which 
 was adopted at Rome when in her ftate of 
 flavery and corruption. 
 
 Britain had her choice of thefe two 
 methods. She has chofen the latter. 
 What confequences are to be expected 
 from it ? 
 
 But befides her preference of the worft 
 mode of antient education, fhe has adopt- 
 ed into her fyftem all the worft of the 
 modern. Every thing that is bad in the 
 French, is ftudioufly imitated by us j every 
 thing that is good in their institution, 
 wholly neglected. 
 
 Montefquieu, in fpeaking of the diffe- 
 rence between antient and modern educa- 
 tion, fays, ' Another advantage their edu- 
 c cation had over ours ; it was never ef- 
 
 * faced by contrary impreffions. Epami- 
 c nondas, the laft year of his life, faid, 
 1 heard, faw, and performed the very fame 
 ' things as at the age when he received 
 
 * the nrft principles of his education. 
 
 4 In
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 531 
 
 * In our days we receive three diffe- 
 c rent or contrary educations, namely, of 
 * our parents, of our matters, and of the 
 c world. What we learn in the latter, ef- 
 ' faces all the ideas of the former/ 
 
 If this be really the cafe, how hope- 
 fully has the prime of life been em- 
 ployed ! 
 
 To give a fanction to the fentiments 
 which I have delivered upon this head, I 
 fhall fubjoin a few queries of the bifhop of 
 Cloyne, extracted from a pamphlet called 
 the Querift. 
 
 Whether a general good tafte in a peo- 
 ple would not greatly conduce to their 
 thriving ? andwhether an uneducated gen- 
 try be not the greateft of national evils ? 
 
 Whether our peers and gentlemen are 
 born legiflators ? or whether that faculty 
 be acquired by ftudy and reflection ? 
 
 Whether to comprehend the real inte- 
 reft of a people, and the means to pro- 
 cure it, doth not imply fome fund of 
 knowlege, hiflorical, moral, and political, 
 with a faculty of reafon improved by 
 learning ? 
 
 M m 2 Whether
 
 532 B & I T 1 S H BOCK III. 
 
 Whether a wife ftate hath any intereft 
 nearer heart, than the education of youth ? 
 
 What right the eldeft fon hath to the 
 worft education ? 
 
 Whether it mould not feem worth 
 
 
 
 while to eredlt a mart of literature in this 
 kingdom, under wifer regulations, and 
 better difcipline than any in Europe ? 
 and whether this would not be an infallible 
 means of drawing men and money into 
 the kingdom ? 
 
 Whether in any order a good building 
 can be made of bad materials? or whe- 
 ther any form of government can make an 
 happy ftate of bad individuals ? 
 
 Whether it is poffible that a ftate 
 'fhould not thrive, whereof the lower part 
 were induftrious, and the upper wife ? 
 
 Whether Homer's compendium of edu- 
 cation, 
 
 * HvftoVTt pJITMp [MVOU T/TXTMga T SfyaV, 
 
 would not be a good rule for modern edu- 
 cators of youth ? and whether half the 
 
 * This is a line from a fpeech of Phoenix to Achilles, 
 in the gth book of the Iliad ; and may be thus tranflatcd : 
 Alike to pradife eloquence and valour 
 
 learning 
 
 ' :. 
 
 .
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 533 
 
 learning and ftudy of thefe kingdoms is 
 not ufelefs, for want of a proper delivery 
 and pronunciation being taught in our 
 fchools, and colleges ? 
 
 Upon a review of the whole it rnuft be 
 
 r 
 
 allowed, that our fyflem of education is 
 extremely defective, and that too in fome 
 of the moft eflential points. Firft, in not 
 providing properly for the fupport of reli- 
 gion, by neglecting to inftruct thofe who 
 are to be it's guardians, in the moft necef- 
 fary qualification of all to the discharge of 
 their facred function ; as alfo for the fup- 
 port of our constitution and civil liberties, 
 in not taking care to train up the youth 
 deftined to compofe the augufl body of 
 our legiflature, in fuch arts and ftudies as 
 can alone render them capable of filling 
 that important poft. Secondly, in mak- 
 ing the paths of knowlege difficult and 
 uncertain, by a total neglect of our own 
 language. Thirdly, in omitting all care 
 of the imitative arts, fo eflential to the 
 well-being of this country. How far the 
 revival of the art of oratory may contri- 
 bute to remedy thefe defects, is fubmitted 
 to the judgement of the reader. If the 
 2 reafons
 
 
 534 BRITISH BOOK III. 
 reafons urged upon that head fhould ap- 
 pear to be of weight, there is no lover of 
 his country who muft not wifh to fee the 
 attempt made, who muft not wifh to fee 
 it fucceed. Should therefore an eafy and 
 
 -V. 
 
 practicable plan be propofed, whereby 
 this art might be taught by as fure rules, 
 and upon as certain principles as any other 5 
 whereby it might become open to all per- 
 fons who mould be defirous of attaining 
 it, and in a fhort time fpread univerfally 
 thro' the nation : fhould at the fame time 
 a fcheme be offered for finifhing the edu- 
 cation of a gentleman, which, without at 
 all interfering with the prefent eftablifh- 
 ments either of fchools or colleges, (an 
 attempt which muft ever prove as unfuc- 
 cefsful as it is unnecefTary) mould render 
 the Englifh youth of fortune more accom- 
 plifhed, and better qualified for the proper 
 difcharge of all duties and offices in life, 
 than any fyftem, not only of modern, but 
 antient education, could have effected; and 
 that this too fhould be accomplifhed, not 
 by an addition to, but a laving of expence > 
 
 would the defign meet with fuitable en- 
 couragement P 
 
 Such
 
 CHAP. XIV. EDUCATION. 535 
 
 Such a plan has the author of this efTay 
 ready to lay before the publick . But as the fuc- 
 cefsof it (for reafons obvious enough) mufl 
 in a great meafure depend upon a general 
 perfuafion that fuch a one would not only 
 be ufeful, but is abfolutely necelTary ; he 
 has firft chofen this method of founding 
 people's opinions upon that head. If he 
 fhould find that the fenfible and candid 
 part of mankind join iflue with him, it 
 will be a fufficient confirmation to him of 
 the truth of his reafoning, and he will pro- 
 ceed with alacrity from a moral certainty 
 of fuccefs in his undertaking. But if 
 their voice fhould be againft him, he 
 is far from having fuch an opinion of 
 his own underftanding as to fet it up 
 in oppofition to theirs. He knows 
 when the heart is warmly engaged in 
 any point, and the head has for any 
 length of time ben chiefly employed in 
 the contemplation of one object, that rea- 
 fon in thefe cafes generally looks thro' a 
 falfe medium, and confequently can not 
 fee things in their true light. In fuch a 
 cafe, appearance is often miftaken for rea- 
 lity, and the fmalleft degree of probabi- 
 lity
 
 536 jj BRITISH, &c. BOOK III. 
 lity . fvvelled into the moft ample proof. 
 Perhaps like another Quixote, tie has a- 
 dorned another Dulcinea with all forts of 
 imaginary perfections, and is grown ena- 
 moured of the creature of his fancy. But 
 tho' he mould labour under the fame fort 
 of diforder, he has a certain diftruft and 
 difirafciice about him, which are favourable 
 fymptoms that it is not incurable. If at 
 fome times he is wrapped up in a pleafmg 
 delirium, and thinks that all is real and fub- 
 ftantial, he has much more frequently his 
 hours of doubting. In fome of thofe the 
 voice of reafon miift reach him,and fet him 
 right wherever he has been in an error. 
 To the fenfible and judicious he fubmits 
 his opinions, and by their deadens will 
 }ie regulate his future conduct. 
 
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