he fill turns his regards to the public, and employs his genius, his industry, and his fortune, in profecuting and perfesting thote ducoveries, which tend molt to the general benefit of mankind: in a word, that whilst others of his order are contending for the ambitious prizes of ecclefiattical dignities, it is his glorious pr.he.minence to merit the higheft, without enjoying or foliciting even the lowelt. This, and yet more than this, the world fhould hear of your friend, if the world were inclined to liften to my voice. But though you, perhaps, Phi THE LETTER LXXII. TO THE SAME. HE vifits of a friend, like thofe of the un at this eafon, are extremely enlivening. In fure at least they would both be particularly acceptable to me at prefent, when my mind is as much overcaft as the heavens. I hope, therefore, you will not drop the defign your letter intimates, of pending a few days with me in your way to ***. Your company with greatly contribute to difperie thefe clouds of melancholy which the lots of a very valuable friend has hong over me. There is forething, indeed, in the first moments of feparation from thofe, whom a daily commerce and ong habitude of friendship bas grafted upon the heart, that difor. ders our whole frame of thought, and difcoleurs all one's enjoyments. Let Philofophy aflift with the utmost of her yaunted ftrength, the mind cannot immediately recover the firmnels of it's posture, when thofe amic ble props upon which i used to reli, are totally removed. Ere the mod in Alferent objefs with which we ha long been famillar, take fome kind of root ir our heurts; and I would bridly care,' as a celerated accor has, with grist goe -nature, obieved, to have à aid pott pulled ap woch i renrember, d evet fince I was a chil!.' DECEMBER 7, 17371 tisfaction of a prefent enjoyment, with a difpofition prepared at the fame time to yield it up without reluctance, is hard. ly, I doubt, reconcileable to humanity: pain in being difunited from those we love, is a tax we must be contented to pay, if we would enjoy the pleasures of the facial affections. One would not with, indeed, to be wholly infenfible to quietudes of this kind; and we mult renounce the most refined relish of our being, if we would upon all occafions poffels our tou's in a Stoical tranquillity. That annent philofopher, whole precept it was to converse with our friends as if they might one day prove our enemies, has been juftiy cenfured as advancing a very ungenerous maxiin. To remember, however, that we must one day most certainly he divided from them, is a reflection, methinks, that should enter with us into our tender connections of every kind. Fom the prefent difcompoture, therefore, of my own breast, and from that hare nich I take in whatever may affect the repofe of yours, I cannot bid you adieu, without reminding you at the fame time of the ufe ful caution of one of your poetical ac quaintance; Quicquid amas, cupias non placuiffe nimis. To know how to receive the full fa- I am, &c. LET LETTER LXXIII. TO PALAMEDES. FEBRUARY 13, 1741. I one would rate any particular merit fons at once, or to take them by re according to it's true valuation, it may be neceffary, perhaps, to confider how far it can be juitly claimed by mankind in general. I am for, at leaft, when I read the very uncommon fenti, ments of your last letter, I found their judicious author rife in my cfteem, by reflecting, that there is not a more ingular character in the world than that of a thinking man. It is not merely having a fucceflion of ideas, which lightly fkim over the mind, that can with any propriety be filed by that denomination. It is obferving them feparately and ditinctly, and ranging them under their respective claffes; it is calmly and fteadily viewing our opinions on every fide, and refolutely tracing them through all their confequences and connections, that conftitutes the man of reflection, and distinguithes reafon from fancy. Providence, indeed, does not feem to have formed any very confiderable number of ocr fpecies for an extenfive exercite of this higher faculty; as the thoughts of the far greater part of mankind are neceffarily reftrained within the ordinary purposes of animal life. But even if we look up to thole who move in much fuperior orbits, and who have opportunities to improve, as well as leifure to exercife their understandings; we fhall find, that thinking is one of the kaft exerted privileges of cultivated huma nity. It is, indeed, an operation of the mind which meets with many obstructions to check it's just and free direction; but there are two principies which prevail more or lefs in the conftitutions of moft men, that particularly contribute to keep this faculty of the foul unemployed: I mean pride and indolence. To defcend to truth through the tedious progreffion of well-examined deductions, is confi dered as a reproach to the quicknets of understanding, as it is much too laborious a method for any but thofe who are poffeffed of a vigorous and refolute activity of mind. For this reaton the greater part of our fpecies generally chule either to feize upon their conch bound from others, as heft fuiting with their vanity or their lazirefs. Accordingly Mr. Locke obferves, that there are not to many enors and wrong opinions in the world, as is generally imagined. Not that he thinks mankind are by any means uniform in embracing truth, but because the majority of them, he maintains, have no thought or opinion at all about thofe doctrines concerning which they raife the greatett clamour. Like the common foldiers in an army, they follow where their leaders direct, without knowing, or even enquiring, into the caule for which they fo warmly contend. This will account for the flow steps by which truth has advanced in the world, on one fide; and for thofe abfurd fyttems which, at different periods, have had an univerfal currency on the other. For there is a strange difpofition in human nature, either blindly to tread the fame paths that have been traverfed by others, or to ftrike out into the most devious extravagancies: the greater part of the world will either total y renounce their reafon, or reafon only from the wild fuggeftions of an heated imagination. From the fame fource may be derived thof: divifions and animofities, which break the union both of public and pri vate focieties, and turn the peace and harmony of human intercourfe into diffonarce and contention. For while men judge and act by fuch meafores as have not been proved by the standard of dif paffionate reafon, they muft equally be mistaken in their elimates both of their own conduct and that of others. If we turn our view from active to contemplative life, we may have occafion, perhaps, to remark, that thinking is no lefs uncommon in the literary than the civil world. The number of thofe writers who can with any justness of exp.cffion be termed thinking authors, would not form a very copious library, though one were to take in all of that kind which both antient and modern times have produced. Neceffarily, I N 2. imagine, imagine, mit one exclude from a collection of this fort, all critics, commentators, modern Latin poets, tranflators, and, in short, all that numerous undertribe in the commonwealth of literature that owe their existence merely to the thoughts of others. I fhould reject for the fame reafon fuch compilers as Valerius Maximus and Aulus Gellius: though it must be owned, indeed, their works have acquired an accidental value, as they preferve to us feveral curious traces of antiquity, which time would otherwife have entirely worn out. Thofe teeming gen ufes likewife, who have propagated the fruits of their studies through a long feries of tracts, would have little pretence, I believe, to be admitted as writers of reflection. For this reafon I cannot regret the lofs of thofe incredible numbers of compofitions which fome of the antients are faid to have produced: Quale fuit Caffi rapido ferventius amni Ingenium, capfis quem fama eft effe, librifque Ambuftum propriis. HOR. Thus Epicurus, we are told, left behind him three hundred volumes of his own works, wherein he had not inferted a fingle quotation; and we have it upon the authority of Varro's own words that he himself compofed four hundred and ninety books. Seneca affures us, that Didymus the Grammarian wrote no lefs than four thoufand; but Origen, it feems, was yet more prolific, and extended his performances even to fix thoufand treatifes. It is obvious to imagine with what fort of materials the productions of such expeditious workmen were wrought up: found thought and wellmatured reflections could have no share, we may be fure, in these hafty performances. Thus are books multiplied, whilst authors are fearce; and fo much eafier is it to write than to think! But fhall I not myself, Palamedes, prove an inftance that it is fo, if I fufpend any longer your own more important reflections, by interrupting you with fuch as mine? Adieu. I am, &c. I LETTER. LXXIV. TO ORONTES. T is with much pleafure I look back upon that philofophical week which I lately enjoyed at *** ; as there is no part, perhaps, of focial life, which affords more real fatisfaction, than thofe hours which one pates in rational and unreferved converfation. The free communication of fentiments amongit a fet of ingenious and fpeculative friends, fuch as thofe you gave me the opportunity of meeting, throws the mind into the most advantageous exercik, and thews the strength or weaknels of it's opinions with greater force of conviction, than any other method we can chiplox. That it is not good for man to be alone, 'is true in more views of our fpecies than one; and fociety gives ftrength to our reafon, as well as polifh to cur manners. The Soul, when left entirely to her own folitary contemplations, is infenfibly drawn by a fort of conftitutional bias, which generally leads her opinions to the fide of her inclinations. Hence it is that the contracts thofe peculiarities of reafoning, and little babits of thinking, which fo often confirm her in the molt fantastical errors. But nothing is more likely to recover the mind from this falle bent, than the counter warmth of impartial debate. Converfation opens our views, and gives our f culties a more vigorous play; it puts us upon turning our notions on every fide, and holds them up to a light that difcovers thofe latent flaws, which would probably have lain concealed in the gloom of unagitated abâraction. Ac *This paffage is to be found in Aulus Gellius, who quotes it from a treatife which Varro had written concerning the wonderful effects of the number Seven. But the subject of this piece cannot be more ridiculous than the tyle in which it appears to have been compofed: for that most learned author of his times (as Cicero, if I mistake not, fomewhere calls him) informed his readers in that performance, je jam ducdecimam annorum bebdomadim ingreffum fe, et ad eum diem feptuaginta bebdomadas librorum confcripfiffe Aul. Gell. ii. 10 cordingly cordingly one may remark, that most of thofe wild doctrines which have been let loofe upon the world, have generally owed their birth to perfons whofe circumitances or difpofitions have given them the fewest opportunities of canvaffing their respective systems, in the way of free and friendly debate. Had the authors of many an extravagant hypothefis difcuffed their principles in private circles, ere they had given vent to them in public, the oblervation of Varro had never, perhaps, been made, (or never at least with fo much juftice) that There is no opinion fo abfurd, but has fome philofopher or other to produce in it's fupport. Upon this principle, I imagine, it is that fome of the finest pieces of antiquity are written in the dialogue-manner. Plato and Tully, it should feem, thought truth could never be examined with more advantage, than amidit the amicable oppofition of well-regulated converfe. It is probable, indeed, that fubjects of a ferious and philofophical kind were more frequently the topics of Greek and Roman converfations, than they are of ours; as the circumstances of the world had not yet given occafion to thofe prudential reafons which may now, perhaps, restrain a more free exchange of fentiments amongst us. There was fomething, likewife, in the very fcenes themfelves, where they ufually affembled, that almoft unavoidably turned the stream of their converfations into this useful channel. Their rooms and gardens were generally adorned, you know, with the ftatues of the greatest mafters of reafon that had then appeared in the world; and while Socrates or Ariftotle ftood in their view, it is no wonder their difcourfe fell upon those fubjects, which fuch animating reprefentations would naturally fuggeft. It is probable, therefore, that many of thote antient pieces which are drawn up in the dialogue-manner, were no imaginary converfations invented by their authors, but faithful tranfcripts from real life. And it is this circumftance, perhaps, as much as any other, which Contributes to give them that remarkable advantage over the generality of modern compofitions which have been formed upon the fame plan. I am fure, at leaft, I could fcarce name more than three or four of this kind which have appeared in our language, worthy of notice. My Lord Shaftesbury's dialogue, intitled, The Moralifts; Mr. Addifon's upon Antient Coins; Mr. Spence's upon the Odyssey; together with thofe of my very ingenious friend Philemon to Hydafpes; are, almoft, the only productions in this way, which have hitherto come forth amongst us with advantage. Thefe, indeed, are all masterpieces of the kind, and written in the true fpirit of learning and politeness. The converfation in each of thefe most elegant performances is conducted, not in the ufual abfurd method of introducing one difputant to be tamely filenced by the other; but in the more lively dramatic manner, where a juft contrait of characters is preferved throughout, and where the feveral fpeakers fupport their refpective fentiments with all the ftrength and fpirit of a well-bred oppofition. But of all the converfation-pieces, whether antient or modern, either of the moral or polite kind, I know not one which is more elegantly written than the little anonymous dialogue concerning the rife and decline of Eloquence among the Romans. I call it anonymous, though I am fenfible it has been afcribed not only to Tacitus and Quinctilian, but even to Suetonius. The reafons, however, which the critics have refpectively produced, are so exceedingly precarious and inconclufive, that one must have a very extraordinary fhare of claffical faith indeed, to receive it as the performance of any of thofe celebrated writers. It is evidently, however, a compofition of that period in which they flourished; and if I were difpofed to indulge a conjecture, I fhould be inclined to give it to the younger Pliny. It exactly coincides with his age; it is addreffed to one of his particular friends and correfpondents; it is marked with fome fimilar expreffions and fentiments. But as arguments of this kind are always more impofing than folid, I recommend it to you as a piece, concerning the author of which nothing fatisfactory can be collected. This I may one day or other, perhaps, attempt to prove in form, as I have amufed myfelf with giving it an English drefs. In the mean time I have enclofed my tranflation in this packet; not only with a view to your fentiments, but in return to your favour. I was perfuaded perfuaded I could not make you a better acknowledgment for the pleature of that converfation which I lately participated through your means, than by introducing you to one, which (if my copy is not extremely injurious to it's original) I am fure, you cannot attend to without equal entertainment and ad, vantage. Adieu. I am, &c. A DIALOGUE CONCERNING ORATORY*. Y TO FABIUS. OU have frequently, my friend, required me to affign a reafon whence it has happened, that the Oratorical character, which spread fuch a glorious luftre upon former ages, is now to totally extinct amongst us, as fcarce to preferve even it's name. It is the antients alone, you obferved, whom we diftinguish with that appellation; while the eloquent of the prefent times are ftiled only pleaders, pa rons, advocates, or any thing, in thort, but Orators. Hardly, I believe, fhould I have attempted a folution of your dificulty, or ventured upon the examination of a queftion, wherein the genius of the moderns, if they cannot, or their judgment, if they will not, rife to the fame heights, muft neceffarily be given up; had I nothing of greater authority to offer upon the fubject, than my own particular fentiments. But having been prefent, in the very early part of my life, at a converfation between fome perfons of great eloquence, confidering the age in which they lived, who difcuffed this very point; my memory, and not my judgment, will be concerned, whilft I endeavour, in their own ftyle and manner, and accarding to the regular courfe of their debate, to lay before you the feveral reafonings of thofe celebrated geniuses: each of them, indeed, agreeably to the peculiar turn and character of the speaker, alledging different, though probable caules, of the fanie fact; but all of them Jupporting their respective fentiments with ingenuity and good-fenfe. were the orators of the prefent age without an advocate in this debate: for one Nor of the company took the opposite fide, and treating the antients with much fe verity and contempt, declared in favour of modern eloquence. Marcus Aper and Julius Secundus, two diftingu.fhed geniutes of our forum, made a vifit to Maternus the day after he had publicly recited his tragedy of Cato; a piece which gave, it feems, great offence to thofe in power, and was much canvafled in all converfations. Maternus, indeed, feemed throughout that whole performance to have conlidered only what was fuitable to the character of his hero, without paying a pró. per regard to those prudential restraints which were neceffary for his own fecurity. I was at that time a warm admirer and conftant follower of thofe great men; infomuch, that I not only attended them when they were engaged in the courts of judicature; but, from my fond attachment to the arts of eloquence, and with a certain ardency peculiar to youth, I joined in all their par ties, and was prefent at their molt pri vate converfations. Their great abilities, however, could not fecure them from the critics. They alledged, that Secundus had by no means an eafy elocution; whilt Aper, they pretended, owed his reputation as an orator, mere to nature than to art. It is certain, nevertheless, that their objections were without foundation. The speeches of the former were always delivered with fufficient fluency; and his expression was clear, though concife; as the latter had, moft undoubtedly, a general tincture of literature. The truth is, one could not fo properly fay, he was without, as above the affiftance of learning. He imagined, perhaps, the powers and application of his genius would be so much the more It is neceffary to inform thofe realers of the following Dialogue, who may be difpofed to compare ic with the original, that the edition of Heumannus, printed at Gottingen, 19, has been generally followed. admired, |