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ELEGANT EXTRACTS Knox - Percival
Lincoln, with his family, spent three weeks of the year 1347 visiting his wife' s people in Lexington, Ky. Here was a period of leisure which he employed in "browsing among the books in the Todd library.
"Poking about in these well- stocked bookcases was one of his chief diversions. Absorbed in some interesting volume, he would sit for hours in the rear parlor or in the passageway up- stairs v/here some of the books were kept, wholly oblivious of the romping and chatter of Bob and Emilie and the other little Todds.
"But the book that Lincoln read more than all the rest was a volume of verse entitled 'Elegant Extracts, or Useful and Entertaining Passages from the best English Authors and Translations,1 and he marked or underscored heavily with a lead pencil such of these poems, or excerpts thBEefrom, as particularly struck his fancy. He committed Bryant1 s ' Tnanatopsis' to memory and repeated it to members of the Todd household. I
(See Townsend1 s "Lincoln and His Wife's Home Town", page 156).
H. E. Barker
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in 2010 with funding from
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ADVERTISEMENT
TOTHE PRESENT EDITION.
CT*H ERE cannot be a doubt but that a Book, like this, purpofcly adapted to the ufe of young per fans of both fexes, copious beyond former examples, fin gu- larly various in its contents, felctled from writers whofe characlers are cflablijhed without controverfy, abounding with entertainment and ufsfiil information, incul- cating the pur efi principles of morality and religion, av.d dij playing excellent models offlyle and language, mi'fl contribute mcjl effeclually to the improvement of the &ISING GENERATION in knowledge, tofle, and virtue. It muft form at once the elegant fckolar and the enlightened member of civil feci cty. The public have indeed already felt and acknowledged by the leaf fallible proof, their general reception of it, its great utility. It has been diffujed throughout all the mcfl re- fpeclable places of education in the kingdom, and doubt lefs Jcwn the feeds of ex~ cellence, which may one day arrive at maturity, and add to the happinefs of the community and of human nature. Infufng virtuous and liberal ideas at the mofl fufceptible age into the minds of a whole nation, its' effill mufl be in the highefl degree falutary, on the rif.ng race, and on late poflerity.
What English book fimilar to this volume, calculated entirely for the ufe of young fludents at fchcols, and under private tuition, was to be found in the days of our fathers?. None certainly. The confequence was, t/iat the English PART of education (to many the mo ft important part) was deft c7 he even in places mofl ce- lebrated for clafjlc difciplinc \ and boys were often enabled to read Latin perfcclly, and write it tolerably, who, from difufe of the v.-ant of models for praclicc, were wretchedly qualified to do either in their native language. From this unhappy circumjlance, clajfical education was brought into fome degree of dijgrace \ and it was certainly prepoflerous, to jludy during many of the befl years of life, foreign and dead languages, with the mojl fcrupidous accuracy, and at the fame time entirely to neglctt that mother tongue, which is in daily and hourly requiftio?i ; to he well read in Cicero, and a total ftranger to Addifon ; to have Homer and Horace by heart, and to know little more than the names of Milton and Pope.
Learning, thus defeilive in a point fo obvious to dcteilion, incurred 'the imputation ef pedantry It was obferved to a fume great pride, the important air of fupe- riority, without difplaying to the common obfervcr any jufl pretenfons to it. It even appeared with marks cf inferiority when brought into occajional coll'fion
A with
ii ADVERTISEMENT.
with well-informed under/landings cultivated by Englijli literature alone, hut improved in the fchool of experience. Per Ions who had never drunk at the clajpc fountains, but had been confined in their education to EnglifJi, triumphed over the fcholar ; and learning often hid her head in confiufion, when pointed at as pe- dantry by the finger of a dunce.
It became highly expedient therefore to introduce more of ' EngUfli reading intt our claffical fchools ; that thofie who went out into the world with their coffers richly Jlored with the golden medals of antiquity, might at the fame time be fur- nijhedwith afufflciency of current coin from the modern mint, for the commerce of daily ufe : but there was no fchool book, copious and various enough, calculated entirely for this purpofe. The Grecian and Roman Hi/lory, the Spectators, and' Plutarch's Lives, were indeed fometimes introduced, and certainly with great advantage. But ftill, an uniformity of Englifh books in jchools, was a de- fidcratum. It was definable that all the ftudents of the fame clafs, provided with the fame book, containing the proper variety, might be enabled to read it to- gether, and thus benefit each other by the emulous JIudy oj the fame jubjetl or com- paction, at the fame time, wider the eye of their common majier.
For this important purpofe, the large collections entitled " ELEGANT EXTRACTS," both in Prcfe and Verfe, were projected and completed by the prefent Editor. Their reception is the fullejl teflimony in favour both of the defign and its execution. Several editions, confifiing of very numerous impreffions, have been rapidly circulated, and a new one is now demanded. Public encourage- ment has not operated on the Editor as a f education to indolence, but as a fpur to freJJi exertion ; and as the prefis proceeded, great additions, alterations, and im- provements, have been made in every Edition, without regard to encrcafing ex- pence or trouble. The advantage has hitherto chiefly redounded to the public ; for thoje who are able to eflimate the expence offuch works as thefie, and are ac- quainted with the embarrajjhicnts that fometimes impede their progrefs, or render them unproductive, will readily believe it may happen, that the reward of the Projeclor, Editor, and FfilabliJher,fiJiall be little more than the amufement arijing from his invention and fiuperintendance.
The labour of a Compiler of a book like this is indeed humble ; but its utility is cxtenfivc ; and he feels a pride and plea fur e in the refleflion that he has been fierving his country mojl effectually, in fierving the rifing generation by fiuch books as this, without facrificing either to avarice cr to vanity. The renown attending a public work, is indeed Jeldom proportioned to its utility. Glitter is not always the mofii brilliant on the fur face of the mcfl valuable fubjlance. The load- jionc is plain and unattractive in its appearance, while the pajie on the finger of the beau fpdrkles with envied lu fire. The fpade, the plough, the Jliuttle, have no ornament beflowed on them, while the /word is decorated with ribbands, gold, and ivory. }<./ reason, undazzlcd in her deciflons, dares to pronounce, while fhe holds the fc ales, that the USEFUL, though little praifed, preponderates, and that thefhewy and unfubftantial kicks the team of the balance, while it attracts ihe eye of inc on fid crate admiration.
Things
*
ADVERTISE ME N T,
m
Things intrinjically good and valuable have however the advantage offecurhig ■permanent ejlcem, though they may lofe the eclat of temporary applaufe. They carry with them to the clofet their oivn letters of recommendation. This volume confidently claims the character of good and valuable, and therefore wants net the pajjport ofpraife. Every page [peaks in its oivn favour, in the mode ft language of merit, which has no occajion to boafl, though it cannot renounce its right tojufi ejleem. The mojl valuable woods ufed in the fine cabinet work of the artifan, re- quire neither paint nor varnifli, but appear beautiful by their own variegated veins and colours.
As it is likely that the fludent who reads this volume of Profe with pleafuref may alfopojpfs a tafiefor Poetry, it is right to mention in this place, that there is pnblijhed by the fame Proprietors, a volume of Poetry, fimilar in fze and form ; and as he may alfo wifh to improve himfelf in the very ufeful art of Letter- Writing, that there is provided a mofl copious volume of Letters from the befl authors, under the title of Elegant Epistles.
This whole Set of Collections, more copious, convenient, and valuable, than my which have preceded it, certainly conduces in a very high degree^ to that great national objed, the PUBLIC INSTRUCTION.
&EPT-EMBER, 1794.
Aa PREFACE
( iv )
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
*~jr~ HIS book derives its origin from a with expreffed by perfons who have the J| conduct of fchools, that fuch a compilation might be pubhihed, as by means of a full page, and a fmall, yet very legible type, might contain, in one volume, a little English library for young people who are in the courie of their education. A common-fizcd volume, it was, found, was loon perufed, and laid afide for want of novelty ; but to Supply a large fchool with a great variety, and cenftant fucceffion of English books, is too expenfive and inconvenient to be generally practicable; fuch a quantity of matter is therefore collected in this volume as mult of neceffity fill up a good deal of time, and furniih a great number of new ideas before it can be read to fatiety, or entirely exhaufted. It may therefore very properly consti- tute, what it was intended to be, a Library for Learners, from the age of nine or ten to the age at which they leave their fchool : at the fame time it is evident, upon infpedtion, that it abounds with fuch extracts as may be read by them at any age with pleaSure and improvement. Though it is chiefly and primarily adapted to fcholars at fchool; yet it is certain, that all readers may find it an agreeable com- panion, and particularly proper to fill up fhort intervals -of accidental leifure.
As to the Authors from whom the extracts are made, they are thofe whofe characters want no recommendation. The Spectators, Guardians, and Tatlers, have been often gleaned for the purpofe1 of feledtions ; but to have omitted them, in a work like this, for that reafon, would have been like rejecting the pureft coin of the falleft weight, becaufe it is not quite frelh from the mint, but has been long in circulation. It ought to be remembered, that though the writings of Addifon and his coadjutors may no longer have the grace of novelty in the eyes of veteran readers, yet they will always bj new to a rifmg generation.
The greater part of this book, however, confifts of extracts from more modern books, and from lome which have not yet been- ufed for the purpofe of felections. It is to be prefumed that living authors will not be difpleafed that ufefol and elegant paffages have been borrowed of them for this book; fince if they fincerely meant, as they profefs, to reform and improve the age, they muft be convinced, that to place their rooft faiutary admonitions and fentences in the hands of young perfons, is to contribute moil effectually to the accomplishment of their benevolent defign. The books themfelves at large do not in general fall into the hands of fchool-boys ; they are often too voluminous, too large, and too expenfive for general adoption; they are foon torn and disfigured by the rough treatment which they ufually meet with in a great fchool; and indeed, whatever be the caufe of it,- they feldom are, or can be conveniently introduced : and therefore Ext r a c ts are highly expedient; or rather abfolutely neceflary.
ADVERTISE-
( v )
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION.
THE approbation with which the firft edition of this book has been re- ceived by the Public, has operated as an encouragement to improve- it. It has been judged proper to change the form and fize from a duodecimo to an o£tavo\ not only for the fake of giving it a more agreeable appearance, but alfo of adding to the quantity and variety of the contents. Some extracts have in- deed been omitted, to make room for new matter ; but the additions, upon the whole, are very confiderable.
The utility of the collection is obvious. It is calculated for claflical fchools, and for thofe in which Engliih only k taught. Young perfons cannot read a book, containing fo much matter, without acquiring a great improvement in the Engliih Language; together with ideas on many pleaiing fu 'ejects of Taite and Literature; and, which is of much higher importance, they will imbibe with an increafe of knowledge, the pureft principles of Virtue and Religion.
The book may be employed in various methods for the ufe of learners, ac- cording to the judgment of various inftrudtors. The pupils may not only read it in private, or in the fchool at Mated times, but write out paragraphs in their eopy books; commit paflages to memory, and endeavour to recite them with the proper action and pronunciation, for the improvement of their powers of utterance. With refpecT: to the Art of fpeaking, an excellence in it certainly depends more on practice, under the ihperintendance of araalter, than on written precepts; and this book profelfes to offer matter for praclice, rather than fyliematic inftruftions, which may be more advantagcoufly given in a rhetorical treatife or viva voce. To learn the practical part of fpeaking, or the art of managing the voice'and gelture, by written rules alone, is like learning to play upon a mufi- cal initrument, with the bare aiiiilance of a book of directions without a mafter.
The books from which thefe Extracts are taken, are fit for the young readers libraries, and may be made the companions of their lives; while the prelent compilation offers itfelf only as an humble companion at fchool. In the cha- racter of a companion, it has a great deal to fay to them; and will probably improve in the power of affording pleafure and inftrucUon, the more its acquaint- ance is cultivated. ,
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD AND FOURTH EDITIONS.
DESIRE to render this Book Angularly ufeful, and to deferve a continu- ance of that" approbation with which it has been already received, has induced the Editor to enlarge and improve it in the prefent, as well as in every preceding edition.
To the firft book a great variety of moral and religious extracts has been added, with a defign to furniih a falutary employment for fchools and families on a day which affords peculiar leilure. in the fubfequent books have been inferted Ora- tions, Characters, entertaining Efiays on men and manners, pleaiing paflages on Natural Hiitory, a collection of old Proverbs, and other pieces, conducive to the prime purpofe of uniting .the ufeful with the agreeable.
The volume thus improved, together with the enlarged edition of ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN VERSE, will, it is hoped.be highly agreeable to young perfons in their vacant hours, as well as ufeful to them in the claffes of a fchool, and under the tuition of a preceptor.
As the book unavoidably became large by fucceffive additions, it was judged pro- per to infert a Title Page and ornamental Defign, nearly in the middle, that ic may be optional to the purchafer to bind the Collection either in one, or in two volumes, as may belt correfpond with his own ideas of convenience.
A3 INTRO-
INTRODUCTION.
0 N PRONUNCIATION, OR DELIVERY,
FROM DR. BLAIR's LECTURES.
I.
HOW much ftrefs was laid upon Pro- nunciation, or Delivery, by the moft eloquent of all orators, Demofthenes, ap- pears from a noted faying of his, related both by Cicero and Quinttilian ; when be- ing afked, What was the firft point in ora- tory ? he anfwered Delivery; and being afked, What was the fecond ? and after- wards, What was the third ? he ftill an- fwered, Delivery. There is no wonder, that he mould have rated this fo high, and that for improving himfelf in it, he mould have employed thofe ailiduous and painful labours, which all the Ancients take fo much notice of; for, beyond doubt, no- thing is of more importance. To fuperfi- cial thinkers, the management of the voice and gefture, in public fpeaking, may ap- pear to relate to decoration only, and to be one of the inferior arts of catching an au- dience. But this is far from being the cafe. It is intimately connected with what is, or ought to be, the end of all public fpeak- ing, Perfuafion; and therefore deferves the ftudy of the moft grave and ferious fpeakers, as much as of thofe, whofe only aim it is to pleafe.
For, let it be confidered, whenever we addrefs ourfelves to others by words, our intention certainly is to make ibme impref- fion on thofe to whom we fpeak ; it is to convey to them our own ideas and emo- tions. Now the tone of our voice, our looks and geftures, interpret our ideas and emotions no lefs than words do; nay, the impreffion they make on others, is fre- quently much ftronger than any that words cv.n make. We often fee that an expref*
Ave look, or a paffionate cry, unaccom- panied by words, conveys to others more forcible ideas, and routes within them ftronger pa/lions, than can be communicat- ed by the moft eloquent difcourfe. The fignification of our fentiments, made by tones and geftures, has this advantage above that made by words, that it is the language of nature. It is that method of interpreting our mind, which nature has dilated to all, and which is understood by all; whereas, words are only arbitrary, conventional fymbols of our ideas ; and, by confequence, muft make a more feeble impreffion. So true is this, that, to render words fully fignificant, they tnuit, almoft in every cafe, receive fome aid from the manner of Pronunciation and Delivery, and he who, in fpeaking, mould employ bare words, without enforcing them by proper tones and accents, would leave us with a faint and indiitindt impreffion, often with a doubtful and ambiguous conception of what he had delivered. Nay, fo clofe is the connection between certain fenti- ments and the proper manner of pro- nouncing them, that he who does not pro- nounce them after that manner, can never perfuade us, that he believes, or feels, the fentiments themfelves. His delivery may be fuch, as to give the lye to all that he aflerts. When Marcus Callidius accufed 'one of an attempt to poifon him, but en- forced his accufation in a languid manner, and without any warmth or earneftnefs of delivery, Cicero, who pleaded for the ac- cufed perfon, improved this into an argu- ment of the falfity of the charge, " An " tu, M. Callidi nifi iingeres, fc ageres ?**
In
On Pronunciation, or Delivery,
In Shakefpear's Richard II. the Dutchefs of York thus impeaches the fincerity of her hufband :
Pleads lie in earnefl .'—Look upon his face, His eyes do drop no tears ; his prayers are jeft ; His words come from his mouth ; ours, from
our breaft : He-prays but faintly, and would be denied ; We pray with heart and foul.
But, I believe it is needlefs to fay any more, in order to fhew the high impor- tance of a good Delivery. 1 proceed, therefore, to fuch obfervations as appear to me mofl ufeful to be made on this head.
The great objects which every public fpeaker will naturally have in his eye in forming his Delivery, are, nrft, to fpeak fo as to be fully and eafily understood by
VJl
fpeaker may render his voice louder, with- out altering the key ; and we fhall always be able to give molt body, molt perfever- ing force of found, to that pitch of voice, to which in converfation we are accuftom- ed. Whereas, by fetting out on our high- eft pitch or key, we certainly allow our- felves lefs compafs, and are likely to ftrain our voice before we have done. We fhall fatigue ourfelves, and fpeak with pain ; and whenever a man fpeaks with pain to hiin- felf, he is always heard with pain by his audience. Give the voice therefore full ftrength and fwell of found; but always pitch it on your ordinary fpeaking key. Make it a conltant rule never to utter a greater quantity of voice, than you can af- ford without pain to y ourfelves, and with- out any extraordinary effort. As long as you keep within thefe bounds, the other
all who hear him ; and next, to fpeak with organs of fpeech will be at liberty to dif-
orrarp arm fnrrp. in as tr» nlpaf^ nnrl tr> _i_ _ .._ _ .1 • r 10.- . . ',
grace and force, fo as to pleafe and to move his audience. Let us confider what is mod important with refpecl to each of thefe *.
In order to be fully and eafily under- ftood, the four chief rcquifites are, A due degree of loudnefs of voice ; Diftinclnefs ; Slownefs; and, Propriety of Pronuncia- tion.
The firft attention of every public fpeak- er, doubtlefs, muft be, to make himfelf be heard by all thofe to whom he fpeaks. He muft endeavour to fill with his voice the fpace occupied by the affembly. This power of voice, it may be thought, is wholly a natural talent. It is fo in a good meafure ; but, however, may receive con- fiderable affiitance from art. Much de- pends for this purpofe on the proper pitch, and management of the voice. Every man has three pitches in his voice; the high, the middle, and the low one. The high, is that which he ufes in calling aloud to fome one at a diftance. The low is, when he approaches to a whifper. The middle is, that which he employs in common con- verfation, and which he fhould generally life in public difcourfe. For it is a great millake, to imagine that one muft take the higheft pitch of his voice, in order to be well heard by a great affembly. This is confounding two things which are diffe- rent, loudnefs, or ftrength of found, with the key, or note on which we fpeak. A
* On this whole fubjecl, Mr. Sheridan's Lec- tures on Elocution are very wwt-hy of hz'w.* confulted ; and lcvcrai hints ace litre 'taken from thetn.
charge their feveral offices with eafe ; and you will always have your voice under com- mand. But whenever you tranfgrefs thefe bounds, you give up the reins, and have no longer any management of it. It is an ufeful rule too, in order to be well heard, to fix our eye on fome of the moll diftant perfons in the affembly, and to confider ourfelves as fpeaking to them. We natu- rally and mechanically utter our words with fuch a degree of ftrength, as to make ourfelves be heard by one to whom we ad- drefs ourfelves, provided he be within the reach of our voice. As this is the cafe in common converfation, it will hold alfo in public fpeaking. But remember, that in public as well as in eonverfation, it is pof- fible to offend by fpeaking too loud. This extreme hurts the ear, by making the voice come upon it in rumbling indiftincT; maffes ; befides its giving the fpeaker the difagreeable appearance of one who endea- vours to compel affent, by mere vehe- mence and force of found.
In the next place, to being well heard, and clearly underftood, diftindtnefs of arti- culation contributes more, than mere loud- nefs of found. The quantity of found ne-. ceffary to fill even a large fpace, is fmaller than is commonly imagined ; and with diftincl articulation, a man of a weak voice will make it reach farther, than the ftrong- eft voice can reach without it. To this, therefore, every public fpeaker ought to pay great attention. He muft give every found which he utters its due proportion, and make every fyllable, and even every letter in the word which he pronounces,
A
be
Vlll
INTRODUCTION.
be heard diftintlly ; without ilurring, whif- pering, or fupprefling any of the proper founds.
In the third place, in order to articulate diftinclly, moderation is requifite with re- gard to the fpeed of pronouncing. Preci- pitancy of fpeech confounds all articula- tion, and all meaning. I need fcarcely ob- ierve, that there may be alfo an extreme on the opnofite fide. It is obvious, that a lifelefs, drawling pronunciation, which al- lows the minds of the hearers to be always outrunning the fpeaker, muft render every difcourfe infipid and fatiguing. But the extreme of fpeaking too fail is much more common, and requires the more to be guarded againft, becaufe, when it has grown up into a habit, few errors are more difficult to be corrected. To pronounce with a proper degree of ilownefs, and with full and clear articulation, is the nrft thing to be ftudied by all who begin to fpeak in public ; and cannot be too much recom- mended to them. Such a pronunciation gives weight and dignity to their difcourfe. It is a great aftlilance to the voice, by the paufes and reils which it allows it more eafily to make ; and it enables the fpeaker to fwell all his iounds, both with more force and more mufic. It affifts him alfo in. preferving a due command of hirofelfj whereas a rapid and hurried manner, is apt to excite that flutter of fpirits, which is the greater!: enemy to all right execution in the way of oratory. " Promptum fit os," fays QuincUlian, " non proeceps, moderatum, non lentum."
.After thefe fundamental attentions to the pitch and management of the voice, to diftinft articulation, and to a proper de- gree of ilownefs of fpeech, what a public fpeaker mull, in the fourth place, ftudy, is Propriety of Pronunciation ; or the giving to every word, which he utters, that found, which the moll poke ufage of the language appropriates to it; in op/ofuion to broad, vulgar, or provincial pronunciation. This is requifite, both for fpeaking intelligibly, and for fpeaking with g.-ace or beauty. Inftructicns concerning this article, can be given by the living voice only. But there is one obfervation, which it may not be improper here to make. In the Engliih language,every word whichconfiils of more fyllablcs than one, has one accented fyl- lable. The accent reils fometimes on the vowel, fometimes on the confonant. Sel- dom, or n^ver, is there more than one ac- ■ d fy liable in any Engliih word, how-
ever long ; and the genius of the language requires the voice to mark that fyllable by a ftronger percuflion, and to pafs more flighdy over the reft. Now, after we have learned the proper feats of thefe accents, it is an important rule, to give every word juil the fame accent in public fpeaking, as in common difcourfe. Many perfons err in this refpect. When they ipeak in public, and with folemnity, they pronounce the fyllables in a different. manner from what they do at other times. They dwell upon them, and protract them ; they multiply accents on the fame word ; from a miftaken notion, that it gives gravity and force to their difcourfe, and adds to the pomp of public declamation. Whereas, this is one of the greateft faults that can be committed in pronunciation ; it makes what is called a theatrical or mouthing manner ; and gives an artificial affected air to fpeech, which detracts greatly both from its agreeablenefs, and its impreffion.
I proceed to treat next of thofe higher parts of Delivery, by ftudying which, a ipeaker has fomething farther in view than merely to render himfelf intelligible, and feeks to give grace and force to what he utters. Thefe may be compriied under four heads, Emphafis, Paufes, Tones, and Ges- tures. Let me only premiie in general, to what I am to fay concerning them, that at- tention to thefe articles of Delivery, is by no means to be confined, as fome might be apt to imagine, to the more elaborate and pathetic parts of a difcourfe ; there is, per- haps, as great attention _req>:ifite, and as much fltill difplayed, in adapting emphafes, paufes, tones, and geilures, properly, to calm and plain fpeaking : and the effect of a juft and graceful delivery will, in every part of afubjeel, be found of high impor- tance for commanding attention, and en- forcing what is Ipoken.
Firil, let us confider Emphafis ; by this is meant a ftronger and fuller found of voice, by which we diftinguiih the accent- ed fyllable of fome word, on which we defign to lay particular ftrefs, and to fhow how it affects the reft of the fentence. Sometimes the emphatic word muil be dif- tinguifhed by a pa: ticular tone of voice, as well as by a ftronger accent. Cn the right management of the emphafis, depends the whole life and fpirit of every difcourfe. If no emphafis be placed on any words, not only is difcourfe rendered heavy and lifelefs, but the meaning left often ambi- guous. If the emphafis be placed wrong,
we
On Pronunciation, or Delivery*
iX
we pervert and con-found the meaning wholly. To give a common inftance ; fuch a fimple queftion a? this: " Do you ride to town to-day?" is capable of no fewer than four different acceptations, accord- ing as the emphafis is differently placed on the words. If it be pronounced thus : Do you ride to town -to-day? the anfwer may naturally be, No ; 1 fend my few ant in my Head. If thus ; Do you ride to town to-day ? Anfwer, No ; 1 intend to walk. Do you ride to town to-day ? No; I ride out into the fields. Do you ride to town to-day f No ; but I ihall to-morrow. In like manner, in folemn dilcourfe, the whole force and beauty of an expreffion often depend on the accented word; and we may prefent to the hearers quite different views of the fame fentiment, by placing the emphafis differently. In the follow- ing words of our Saviour, obferve in what different lights the thought is placed, ac- cording as the words are pronounced. " Judas, betrayed thou the Son of Man with a kifs I" Betrayefi thou — makes the reproach turn, on the infamy of treachery. — Betrayer! thou — makes it reft, upon Ju- das's connection with his mailer. Betrayed, thou the Son of Man — refts it, upon our Saviour's peribnal character and eminence. Betrayeft thou the Son of man with a kifs? turns it upon his proftituting the fig- nal of peace and friendthip, to the purpofe of a mark of deftruction.
In order to acquire the proper manage- ment of the emphafis, the great rule, and in- deed the only rule poffible to be given, is, that the fpeaker ftudy to attain a juft con- ception of the fo ce and fpirit of thofe fentiments which he is to pronounce. For to lay the emphafis with exact propriety, is a conftant exercife of good fenie and at- tention. It is far from being an incon- iiderable attainment. It is one of the greateft trials of a true and juft tafte ; and muft arife from feeling delicately our- felves, and from judging accurately of what is fitteft to ft: ike the feelings of others. There is as great a difference be- tween a chapter of the Bible, or any other piece of plain profe, read by one who places the feveral emphafes every where with talte and judgment, and by one who' neglects or miftakes them, as there is be- tween the fame tune played by the mod Sttafterly hand, or by the moil bungling performer.
In all prepared difco lrfes, it would be of great ufe, if they wjre read over or
rehearfed in private, with this particular view, to fearch for tbe proper emphafes before they were pronounced in public ; marking, at the fame time, with a pen, the emphatical words in every fentence, or at leaft the moil weighty and affect- ing parts of the difcourfe, and fixing thern well in memory. Were this attention oftener bellowed, were this part of pro- nunciation ftudied with more exactnefs, and not left to the moment of delivery, as is commonly done, public fpeakers would find their care abundantly repaid, by the remarkable effects which it would produce upon their audience. Let me caution, at the fame time, a^ainft one error, that of multiplying emphatical words too much. It is only by a prudent referve in the ufe of them, that we can give them any weight. If they recur too often ; if a fpeaker attempts to render every thing which he fays of high importance, by a multitude of ftrong emphafes, we foon learn to pay little regard to them. To crowd every fentence with emphatical words, is like crowding all the pages of a book with italic characters, which, as to the effect, is juft the fame with uiing no fuch diftinctions at all.
Next to emphafis, the Paufes in fpeak- ing demand attention. Thefe are of two kinds ; firft, emphatical paufes ; and next, fuch as mark the diftinctions of fenfe. An emphatical paufe is made, after fome- thing has been faid of peculiar moment, and on which we want to fix the hearer's attention. Sometimes, before fuch a thin* is faid, we ulher it in with a paufe of this nature. Such paufes have the lame effect as a ftrong emphafis, and are fubject to the fame rules; elpecially to the caution juft now given, of not repeating them too frequently. For, as they excite uncom- mon attention, and of courfer-a'.fe expecta- tion, if the importance of the matter h; not fully anfwcrable to fuch expectation, they occafion difappointment and diiguft.
But the mot frequent and the principal ufe of paufes, is to mark the divifions of the fenie, and at the fame time to allow the fpeaker to draw his breath; and the proper and graceful adjuftment of fuch paufes, is one of the moil: nice and difficult articles in delivery. In all public fpeak- ing, the management of the breath re- quires a good deal of care, fo as not to be obliged to divide words from one another, which have fo intimate a connection, that they ought to be pronounced with the
fame
INTRODUCTION.
fame breath, and without the leaft repara- tion. Many a fentence is miferably man- gled, and the force of the emphafis to- tally loft, by divifions being made in the wrong place. To avoid this, every one, while he is fpeaking, fhould be very careful to provide a full fupply of breath for what h^ is to utter. It is a great miflake to imagine, that the breath mud be drawn only at the end of a period, when the voice is allowed to fall. It may eafily be ga- thered at the intervals of the period, when the voice is only fufpended for a moment ; and, by this management, one may have always a fufficient flock, for carrying on the longed fentence, without improper in- terruptions.
If any one, in public fpeaking, mail have formed to himfelf a certain melody or tune, which requires red and paufes of its own, didinct from thofe of the fenfe, he has, undoubtedly, contracted one of the word habits into which a public fpeaker can fall. It is the fenfe which mould al- ways rule the paufes of the voice ; for wherever there is any fenfible fufpenfion of the voice, the hearer is always led to expect fomething correfponding in the meaning. Paufes in public difcoflrfe, mult be formed upon the manner in which we utter ourfelves in ordinary, fenfible con- •verfation ; and not upon the ftifF, artificial manner which we acquire from reading books, according to the common punctua- tion. The general run of punctuation is very arbitrary ; often capricious and falfe ;' and dictates an uniformity of tone in the paufes, which is extremely difagreeabie : ior we are to obferve, that to render paufes graceful and expreifive, they mud not only be made in the right place, but alfo be accompanied with a proper tone of voice, by which the nature of thefe paufes is in- timated; much more than by the length of them, which can never be exactly mea- sured. Sometimes it is only a flight and fimple fufpenfion of voice that is proper ; fometimesa degree of cadence in the voice is required; and fometimes that peculiar tone and cadence, which denotes the fen- tence finifhed. In all thefe cafes, we are to regulate ourfelves, by attending to the man- ner in which nature teaches us to fpeak when engaged in real and earned dif- courfe with others.
When we arc reading or reciting verfe, there is a peculiar difficulty in making the paufes judly. The difficulty arifes from the melody of verfe, which dictates to the
ear paufes or reds of its own ; and to ad-
jud and compound thefe properly with the paufes of the fenfe, fo as neither to hurt the ear, nor offend the underdanding, is fo very nice a matter, that it is no wonder we fo feldom meet with good readers of poe- ] try. There are two kinds of paufes that belong to the mufic of verfe; one is, the paufe at the end of the line ; and the other, j the caefural paufe in the middle of it. j With regard to the paufe at the end of ; the line, which marks that drain or verfe J to be finifhed, rhyme renders this always j fenfible, and in fome meafure compels us to obferve it in our pronunciation. In j blank verfe, where there is a greater li- j berty permitted of running the lines into j one another, fometimes without any fuf- penfion in the fenfe, it has been made a j queftion, Whether, in reading fuch verfe] with propriety, any regard at all fhould be' paid to the clofe of a line ? On the ftage, \ where the appearance of fpeaking in verfe fhould always be avoided, there can, I.j think, be no doubt, that the clofe of fuch lines as make no paufe in the fenfe, fhould not be rendered perceptible to the ear. But on other occafioTfs, this were impro- per : for what is the ufe of melody, or for what end has the poet compofed in verfe, if, in reading Iris lines, we fupprefs his numbers ; and degrade them, by our pro- nunciation, into mere profe ? We ought, therefore, certainly to read blank verie fa as to make every line fenfible to the ear. <At the fame time, in doing fo, every ap- pearance of fing-fong and tone mull be carefully guarded againft. The clofe cf the line, where it makes no paufe in the meaning, ought to be marked, not by fuch a tone as is nfed in finifhing a fentence, but without either letting the voice fall or j elevating it, it fhould be marked only by | fuch a flight fufpenfion of found, as may didinguifh the paffage from one line tO' another, without injuring the meaning.
The other kind of mufical paufe, is that which falls fomewhere about the middle of the verfe, and divides it into two hemi- ftichs; a paufe, not fo great as that which belongs to the clofe of the line, but flill fenfible to an ordinary ear. This, which /is called the caefural paufe, in the French ' heroic verfe falls uniformly in the middle of the line, in the Englifh, it may fall after the 4th, 5th, 6th, or 7th fyllables in the line, and no other. Where the verfe is fo conflructed that this caefural paufe coin- cides with the flighted paufe or divifion in
the
'■"<?•©■
On "Pronunciation, §r Delivery*
the fenfe, the line can be read eafily ; as in the two firft veries of Mr. Pope's Mef- iiah,
Ye nymphs of Solyma ! begin the fong j
To heavenly themes, f ublimer ftiains belong ;
But if it fhall happen that words, which have fuch a ftrict and intimate connection, as not to bear even a momentary fepara- tion, aredivilcd from one another by this casfural paufe, we then feel a fort of ltrug- gle between the fenfe and the found, which renders it difficult to read fuch lines gracefully. The rule of proper pronun- ciation in fuch cafes is, to regard only the paufe which the fenfe forms; and to read the line accordingly. The neglect of the .csfural paufe may make the line found fomewhat unharmonioufly ; but the effect would be much worfe, if the fenfe were fa- crificed to the found. For inllance, in the following line of Milton,
-What in me is dark, Illumine ; what is low, raife and lupport.
The fenfe clearly dictates the paufe after " illumine," at the end of ufre third fylla- ble, which, in reading, ought to be made accordingly; though, if the melody only were to be regarded, " illumine" fhould be connected with what follows, and the paufe not made till the 4th or 6th fyllable. So in the following line of Mr. Pope's (Epiille to Dr. Arbuthnot) :
I fit, with fad civility I read:
The ear plainly points out the csfural paufe as falling after " fad," the 4th fyllable. But it would be very bad reading to make any paufe there, fo as to feparate " fad" and " civility." The fenfe admits of no other paufe than after the fecond fyllable
tfe
only
" fit," which therefore mult be paufe made in the reading.
I proceed to treat next of Tones in pro- nunciation, which are different both from emphafis and paufes; confuting in the mo- dulation of the voice, the notes or varia- tions of found which we employ in public fpeaking. How much of the propriety, the force and grace of difcourfe,muit depend on thefe, will appear from this Angle conside- ration; that to almoft every fentiment we utter, more efpecially to every ftrong emo- tion, nature hath adapted fome peculiar tone of voice ; infomuch, that he who ihouki tell another that he was very angry, or much grieved, in a tone which did not fuit fuch. emotions, inftead of being believed, would
XI
be laughed at. Sympathy is one of the molt powerful principles by which perfua- five difcourfe works its effect. Thefpeaker endeavours to transfufe into his hearers his own fentiments and emotions ; which he can never be fuccefsful in doing, unlefs he ut- ters them in fuch a manner as to convince the hearers that he feels them*. The pro- per expreffion of tones, therefore, deferves to be attentively ftudied by every one who would be a fuccefsful orator.
The greatefl and molt material inflruc- tion which can be given for this purpofe is, to form the tones of public fpeaking upon the tones of fenfible and animated conver- fation. We may obferve that every man, when he is much in earner! in common dif- courfe, when he is engaged in fpeaking on fome fubject which interefts him nearly, has an eloquent orperfuafive tone and manner. What is the reafon of our being often fo frigid and unperfuafive in public difcourfe, but our departing from the natural tone of fpeaking, and delivering ourfelves in an affected, artificial manner? Nothing can be moreabfurd than to imagine, that as foon as one mounts a pulpit, or rifes in a public af- fembly, he is inftantly to lay afide the voice with which he expreffes himfelf in private; to afiume a new, ftudied tone, and a ca- dence altogether foreign to his natural manner. This has vitiated all delivery ; this has given rife to cant and tedious mono- tony, in the different kinds of modern pub- lic fpeaking, efpecially in the pulpit. Men departed from nature ; and fought to give a beauty or force, as they imagined, to their difcourfe, by fubflituting certain ftudied mufical tones, in the room of the genuine expreffions of fentiment, which the voice carries in natural difcourfe. Let every
* " All that palfes in the mind of man may be " reduced to two claffes, which J call, Ideas, and *' Emotions. By Ideas, I mean all thoughts " which rife and pafs in fuccelTion in the mind: " By Emotions, all exertions of the mind in ar- " ranging, combining, and feparating i;s ideas; " as well as all the effedts produced on the mind " itfelf by thofe ideas, from the more violent " agitation of the paffions, to the calmer feelings <c produced by the operation of the intellect and " the fancy. In fhort, thought is the objedr. of '* the one, internal feeling of the other. That " which ferves to exprefs the former, I call the " Language of Ideas ; and the latter, the Lan- " guage of Emotions. Words are the figns of the " one, tones of the other. Wi.hout the life " of thefe two forts of language, it is impoffible " to communicate through the ear all that paifes «• in the mind of man."
Sheridan on the Art of Reading.
public
Xll
INTRODUCTION.
public fpeaker guard againft this error. Whether he fpeak in a private room, or in a great afTemb'y, let him remember that he ftill fpeaks. Follow nature : confidcr how fhe teaches yen to utter any fentiment or feeling of your heart. Imagine a fubject of debate ftarted in converfation among grave and wife men, and yourfelf bearing a fhare in it. Think after what manner, with what tones and in flexions of voice, you would on fuch an occahon exprefs yourfelf, when you were mod in earneft, and fought moil to be liftened to. Carry thefe with you to the bar, to the pulpit, or to any public affem- bly; let thefe be the foundation of your manner of pronouncing there; and you will take the fureft method of rendering your delivery both agreeable and pei fuafive.
I have faid,Let thefe converfation tones be the foundation of public pronunciation; for, en fome occaflons, folemn public fpeak - ing requires them to be exalte. 1 beyond the ftrain of common difcourfe. In a formal, ftudied oration, the elevation of the ftyle, and the harmony of the fentences, prompt, aim oft neceftarily, a modulation of voice more rounded, and bordering more upon Etufic, than converfation admits, This gives rife to what is called, the Declaiming Manner. But {.hough this mode of pro- nunciation runs considerably beyond ordi- dinary difcourfe, yet itill it mu ft have, for its bafis, the natural tones of grave and dig- nified converfation. I muft obferve, at the feme time, that the conftant indulgence of . a declamatory manner, is not favourable either to good composition, or good deli- very ; and is in hazard of betraying public fpeakers into that monotony of tone and ca- dence, which is fo generally complained of. Whereas, he who terms the general run of liis delivery upon a fpeaking manner, is not likely ever to become difagieeable through irrort©tony. He will have the fame natural variety in his tones, which a perfon has in converfation. Indeed, the perfection of deliver) requires both thefe different man- Biers, that of i caking with livelinefs and ea-fe, ai d that or declaiming with itatelinefs and dignity, to be pofleffed by one man; and to be employed by him, according as the different parts of his difcourfe requiie cither ihe one or the o her. '] his is a per- fection which is not attained by many; the g rented part of public fpeakers allowing their delivery to be formed altogether" ac- cidentally, according as fome turn cf voice appears to them moft beautiful, or feme a; tificial model has caught their fancy; and
acquiring, by this means, a habit of pro-' nunciation, which they can never vary. But the capital direction, which ought ne- ver to be forgo'ten, is, to copy the proper tones for exprefung every fentiment from thofe which nature dictates tons, in conver- fation with others ; to fpeak always with her voice; and not to form to ourfelves a fantaftic public manner, from an abfurd fancy of its being more beautiful than a natural one *.
Jt now remains to treat of Gefture, or what is called Action in public difcourfe. Some nations animate their words in com- mon converfation, with many more motions of the body than others do. The French and the Italians are, in this refpect, much more fprightly than we. But there is no nation, hardly any perfon fo phlegmatic, as not to accompany their words with fome actions and gefticulations, on all occafions, when they are much in earneft. It is therefore unnatural in a public fpeaker, it is.inconfiftent with that earneilnefs and fe- rioufnefs which he ought to fhew in all af- fairs of moment, to remain quite unmoved in his outward , ppearance ; and to let the words drop from his mouth, without any exprefhon of meaning, or warmth in his gefture.
The fundamental rule as to propriety of action, is undoubtedly the fame with what I gave as to propriety of tone. Attend to the looks and geftures, in which earneftnefs, indignation, compaihon, or any other emo- tion, difcovers itfelf to moft advantage in the common intercourfe of men ; and let thefe be your model. Some ofthefe locks and reftures are common to all men ; and there are alfo certain peculiarities of man- ner which diflinguifh every individual. A public fpeaker muft take that manner which is moft natural to himfelf. For it is here juft as in tones. It is not the bufinefs of a fpeaker to form to himfblf a certain fet of motions and geftures, which he thinks moft becoming and agreeable, and to practife
* ': Loquere," (fays an author of the Lift cen- tury, who has u ritten a Treatife'iii Verfe, de Geilu et Voce Oratoris)
" Loquere; hoc vitium commune, loqmtur
" Ut nemo ; at tenfa declamaret omnia voce.
" Tu loquere, ut mos eft hominum ; Boat & latrat
ille : « Illeululat ; rudit hie (fari fi talia digmim eft) ; " Is on hoini.-em vox u!la fonat ratione loquen- cem."
Joannes Lucas, de Geftu et Voce, Lib. II. Paris 1675.
thefe
On Pronunciation^ or Delivery. xiii
thefe in public, without their having any I fhall only add further on this head correfpondence to the manner which is na- that in order to fucceed well in delivery* Jural to him in private. His geflures and nothing is more neceffary than forafpeaker motions ought all to carry that kind of ex- to guard againft a certain flutter of fpirits, preflion which nature has dictated to him ; which is peculiarly incident to thofe who and, unlefs this be the cafe, it is impoffible, begin to fpeak in public. He mull endea- by means of any ftudy, to avoid their ap- vour above all things to be recollected, and pearing ftiff and forced. mafter of himfelf. For this end, he will | However, although nature muft be the find nothing of more ufe to him, than to ground-work, I admit that there is room ftudy to become wholly engaged in his in this matter for fome ftudy and art. For fubjeel ; to be peffeffed with a fenfe of its many perfons are naturally ungraceful in importance or ferioufnefs ; to be concerned the motions which they make ; and this un- much more to perfuade than to pleafe. He gracefulnefs might, in part at leait, be re- will generally pleafe moft, when pleaiing is formed by application and care. The not his fole nor chief aim. This is the only ftudy of action in public fpeaking, conflils rational and proper method of railing one'i chiefly in guarding againft awkward and felf above that timid and balhlul regard to difagreeable motions, and in learning to an audience, whioh is fo ready to diiconcert perform fuch as are natural to the fpeaker, a fpeaker, both as to what he is to fay, in the moft becoming manner. For this and as to his manner of faying it. end, it has been advifed by writers on this I cannot conclude, without an earneft fubjeel:, to practife before a mirror, where admonition to guard againft all affectation, one may fee, and judge cf his own geftures. which is the certain ruin of good delivery. ■'But I am afraid, perlons are not always the Let your manner, whatever it is, be vour beft judges of the gracefulnefs of their own own; neither imitated from another, nor motions: and one may declaim long e- affumed upon feme imaginary model, which nough before a mirror, without correcting is unnatural to you. Whatever is native, any of his faults. The judgment of a even though accompanied with feveral de- friend, whofe good talte they can truft, will fects, yet is likely to pleafe ; becaufe it be found of much greater advantage to be- fhovvs us a man; becaufe it has the ap- ginners, than any mirror they can ufe. pearance of coming from the heart. With regard to particular rules concerning Whereas, a delivery attended with feveral aftionand geiticulation,Q-uinc~t.ilian has ds- acquired graces and beauties, if it be not (livered a great many, in the laft chapter of ealy and free, if it betray the marks of art the i ith Book of his Institutions ; and all and affectation, never fails to difgult. To the modern writers on this fubject have done attai n any extremely cor reft, and perfectly 'little elfe but tranflate them. I am not of graceful delivery, is what few can expect ; opinion, that fuch rules, delivered cither by fo many natural talents being requiiite to the vojee or on paper, can be of much ufe, concur in forming if. But to attain, what unlefs perlons faw them exemplified before as to the effect is very little inferior, a for- their eyes *. cible and perfuaiive manner, is within the
* The few following hints only I fhall adven- ture to throw out, in cafe they may be of any fer- vice. When fpeaking in public, one fhould ftudy to preferve as much dignity as poffible in the whole attitude of tiie body. An erect pofture is gene- rally to be chofen : {landing firm, fo as to have the fulleft and frei.ft command of al! his motions ; any inclination which is nfed, fhould be forwards to- wards the hearers, which is a natural expreifion of earneftnefs. As for the countenance, the chief rule is, that it fhould correfpond with the nature ef the difcourfe, and when no particuler emotion is expreired, a ferious and manly look is always the heft. The eyes fhould never be fixed clofe on any ene object, but move eafily round the audience. In the motions made with the hands, confilts the chief part of gefture in fpenking. The Ancients condemned all motions performed by the left hand alone ; but I am not fenfible. that thefe are always «ffenfive,,*hou£h it is natural for the right hand to
be more frequently employed. Warm emotions demand the motion of both hands correfponding together. But whether one gefticulates with one or with both hands, it. is an important rulej that all his motions fhould be free and eafy. Narrow and ftraitened movements arc generally ungrace- ful; for which reafon, motions made with the hands are directed to proceed from the (houlder, rather than from tne elbow. Perpendicular movements too with the hands, that is, in the flraight line up and down, which Shakefpeare, in Hamlet, calls," fawing the air with the hand,*' are feldom good. Oblique motions are, in general, the moft graceful. Too fi.ddcn and nimble mo- tions fhould be likewife avoided. Earneftnefs can be fully expreffed without them. Shakefpear's directions on this head, are full of good fenfe ; " ufe all gently," fays lie, " and in the very tor- . " rent and tenipeft of paffion, acquire a tempe- *f ranee that may give it l'moothnefi."
nower
XIV
power of moll perfons ; if they will only un- learn falfe and corrupt habits ; if they will allow themfelves to follow nature, and will fpeak in public, as they do in private, when they fpeak irl earneft, and from the heart. If one has naturally any grofs defects in his Voice or geftures, he begins at the wrong
INTRODUCTION.
and fupported alfo by the exterior, yet im- portant qualifications, of a graceful man- ner, a prefence not ungainly, and a full and tuneable voice. How littla reafon to won- der, that a perfect and accomplifhed orator mould be one of the characters that is moft rarely to be found !
end, if he attempts at reforming them only /^ Let us not defpair, however.. Between
when he is to fpeak in public : he mould begin with rectifying them in his private manner of fpeaking; and then carry to the public the right habit he has formed. For when a fpeaker is engaged in a public dif- courfe, he mould not be then employing his attention about his manner, or thinking ©f his tones and his geftures. If he be io employed, ftudy and affectation will ap- pear. He ought to be then quite in earneil; wholly occupied with his fuhjedt and his fentiments; leaving nature, and previoufly formed habits, to prompt and fuggeii his manner of delivery.
mediocrity and perfection there is a very wide interval. There are rriany interme- diate fpaces, which may be filled up with honour; and the more rare and difficult that complete perfection is, the greater is the honour of approaching to it, though we do not fully attain it. The number of orators who Hand in the higheft elafs is, perhaps, fmaller than the number of poets who are foremoit in poetic fame; but the ftudy of oratory has this advantage above that of poetry, that, in poetry, one mufl be an eminently good performer, or he is not fupportable ;
> • Mediocribus effe poetis
Non homines, non Di, non concentre co-
II.
Means of improving in Eloquence.
I have now treated fully of the different kinds of public fpeaking, of the compofi- tion, and of the delivery of a difcourfe. Before I finifh this fubject, it may be of ufe to fuggeft fome things concerning the pro- pereft means of improvement in the art of public fpeaking, and the moft neceffary ftudies for that purpofe.
To be an eloquent fpeaker, in the proper fenfe of the word, is far from being either a common or an eafy attainment. Indeed, to compofe a florid harangue on fome po- pular topic, and to deliver it fo as to amufe an audience, is a matter not very difficult. But though fome praife be due to this, yet the idea, which I have endeavoured to give of eloquence, is much higher. It is a great exertion of the human powers. It is the
art of being perfuafive and commanding ; ^atory, than they are m poetry the art, not of pleafing the fancy merely, but of fpeaking both to the underftanding and to the heart; of interefting the hearers in fnch a degree, as to fcizc and carry them along with us; and to leave them with a deep and ftrong impreffion of what they have heard. How many talents, natural and acquired, muft concur for carrying this to perfection ! A fcrong, lively, and warm imagination; quick fenfibility of heart, joined with folld j udgment, good fenfe, and prefence of mind; all improved by great and long attention to ftyle and compofttion; 9
lumne *.
In Eloquence this does not hold. There one may poffefs a moderate itation with dignity. Eloquence admits of a great many different forms ; plain and fimple, as well as high and pathetic ; and a genius that cannot reach the latter, may fhine with much reputation and ufefulnefs in the former.
Whether nature or art contribute moft to form an orator, is a trifling enquiry. In all attainments whatever, nature muft be the prime agent. She muft beftow the origi- nal talents. She muft fo.v the feeds; but culture is requifite for bringing thofe feeds to perfection. Nature muft always have donefomewhat; but a great deal will always be left to be done by art. This is certain, that ftudy and difcipline are more neceffary for the improvement of natural genius in
What I mean is, that though poetry be capable of receiving affiftance from critical art, yet a poet, without any aid from art, by the force of genius alone, can rife higher than a pub- lic fpeaker can do, who has never given at- tention to the rules of ftyle, compofition, and delivery. Homer formed himfelf; De- mofthenes and Cicero were formed by the help of much labour, and of many affift- ances derived from the labour of others.
* For God and man, and lettered poft denies, That poets ever are of middling l,ze. Francis.
After
/After thefe preliminary observations, let US proceed to the main deiign of this lec- ture j to treat of the means to be ufed for improvement in eloquence.
In the firft place, what ftands higheft in the order of means, is perfonal character and difpofition. In order to be a truly elo- quent or perfuafive fpeaker, nothing is more neceffary than to be a virtuous man. This was a favourite pofition among the ancient rhetoricians: " Non pofTe oratorem " efTe nifi virum bonum." To find any fuch connection between virtue and one of the higheft liberal arts, muff give pleafure ; and it can, I think, be clearly fhewn, that this is not a mere topic of declamation, but that the connection here alledged, is un- doubtedly founded in truth and reafon.
For, confider firft, Whether any thing contributes more toperfuafion, than the opi- nion which we entertain of the probity,difin- tereftednefs, candour, and other good moral qualities of the perfon who endeavours to
On Pronunciation, or t)elivery, xv
" agrorum nimia cura, et follicitior rei fa- " miliaris diligentia, et veliandi voluptas, «* et dati fpectaculis dies, multum ftudiis- " auferunt, quid putamus facturas cupidi- " tatem, avaritiam, invidiam ? Nihil enim " eft tarn occupatum, tarn multiforme, tot " ac tarn variis aftecYibus concifum, atque " laceratum, quam mala ac improba mens. '.« Quis inter haec, Uteris, aut ulii bona; " arti, locus ? Non hercle magis quam " frugibus, in terra fentibus ac rubis oc- ** cupata*."
But, befides this confideration, there is another of ftiil higher importance, though I am not fure of its being attended to as much as it deferves ; namely, that from the fountain of real and genuine virtue, are drawn thofe fentiments which will ever be mod powerful in affecting the hearts of others. Bad as< the world is, nothing has fo great and univerfal a command over the minds of men as virtue. No kind of lan- guage is fo generally underftood, and fo
perluade ? lhefe give weight and force to powerfully felt, as the native language of
PVPrv rhino- u/liirh !i=> dm-o™ . ,-..,,. i-l. — .JJ ...«_*' — ) ..:„* r__i! tt ,
every thing which he utters; nay, they add a beauty to it ; they difpofe us to liften with attention and pleafure ; and create a fecret partiality in favour of that fide which he efpoufes. Whereas, if we entertain a fuf- picion of craft and difingenuity, of a cor- rupt, or a bafe mind, in the fpeaker, his eloquence lofes all its real effect. It may entertain and amufe; but it is viewed as artifice, as trick, as the play only of fpeech ; and, viewed in this light, whom can it per- fuade? We even read a book with more pleafure, when we think favourably of its author; but when we have the living fpeak- er before our eyes, addrefting us perfonally en fome fubject of importance, the opinion we entertain of his character mull: have a much more powerful effect.
But, left it fhould be faid, that this relates only to the character of virtue, which one may maintain, without being at bottom a truly worthy man, 1 muft obferve farther, that, befides the weight which it adds to character, real virtue operates alfo in other ways, to the advantage ofeloquence.
Firft, Nothing is fo favourable as virtue to the profecuticn of honourable ftudies. It prompts a generous emulation to excel ; it inures toinduftry; it leaves the mind va- cant and free, mailer of itfelf, difencum- bered of thofe bad paifions, and difengaged from thofe mean purfuits, which have ever been found the greateft enemies to true proficiency. QuincHlian has touched this eonfideration very properly: « Quod ft
worthy and virtuous feelings. He ~on]y, therefore, who pofleffes thefe full and ftrong, can fpeak properly, and in its own lan- guage, to the heart. On all great fubjedts and occafions, there is a dignity, there is an energy in noble fentiments, which is, overcoming and irrefiftible. They give an ardour and a flame t« one's difceurfe, which feldom fails to kindle a like flame in thofe who hear; and which, more than any other caufe, beftows on eloquence that power, for which it is famed, of feizing and tranfporting an audience. Here art and imitation will not avail. An afllimed character conveys nothing of this powerful warmth. It is only a native and unaffected glow of feeling, which can tranfmit the emotion to others. Hence the moft re- nowned orators, fuch as Cicero and De- mofthenes, were no lefs diftinguifhed for fome of the high virtues, as public fpirh and zeal for their country, than for eloquence.
* " If the management of an eftate, if anxious " attention to domeftic (Economy, a paflioo for " hunting, or whole days given up to public " places and amufements, confume fo mnch time " that is due to ftudy, how much greater wafta " muft be occafioned by licentiousdefj res, avarice, " or envy ! Nothing is fo much hurried and agV- '< tated, fo contradictory to itfelf, or fo violently " torn and mattered by conflicting paffions, as a c: bad heart. Amidft the diffractions which ft " produces, what room is left for the cultivation " of letters, or the purrait of any honourable art > •< No more, affuredly, than there is for the growth " of corn in a field that is over- run with thorns " and brambles."
Beyond
XVI
INTRODUCTION.
Beyond doubt, to thefe virtues their elo- quence owed much of its tiled ; and thofe ©rations of theirs, in which there breathes moil of the virtuous and magnanimous fpi- rit, are thofe which have moll attracted the admiration of ages.
Nothing, therefore, is more neceiTary for thofe who would excel in any of the higher kinds of oratory, than to cultivate habits of the feveral virtues, and to refine and im- prove all their moral feelings. Whenever thefe become dead, or callous, they may be allured, that on every great occafion, they will fpeak with lefs power, and lefs iiiccefs. The fentiments and difpofitions particularly requiiite for them to cultivate, are the following ; the love of juilice and order, and indignation at infolence and op- preffion; the love of honeity and truth, and deteiiation of fraud, meannefs, and cor- ruption ; magnanimity of fpirit; the love of liberty, of their country and the public ; zeal for all great and noble defigns, and reverence for all worthy and heroic cha- racters. A cold and fceptical turn of mind is extremely adverfe to eloquence; and no lefs (o, is that cavilling difpofition which takes pleasure in depreciating what is great, and ridiculing what is generally admired.
Such a difpofition befpeaks one not very likely to excel in any thing; but lead of all in oratory. A true orator mould be a perion of generous lentiments, of warm feelings, and of a mind turned towards the admiration of all thofe great and high ob- jects which mankind are naturally formed to admire. Joined with the manly virtues, he mould, at the fame time, polTefs ilrong and tender fenfibility to all the injuries, dillrefles, and forrows, of his fellow-crea- tures ; a heart that can eafily relent ; that can readily enter into the circumflances of others, and can make their cafe his own. A proper mixture of courage, and of mo- deity, mufl alio be iludied by every public fpeaker. Modeily is eifential; it is al- ways, and juftly, fuppofed to be a conco- mitant of merit; and every appearance of it is winning and prepoiTeffmg. But mo- deily ought not to run into excefTive timi- dity. Every public fpeaker mould be able to refl fomewhat on himfelf ; and to aiTume that air, not of felf-complacency, but of firmnefs, which befpeaks a confeioufnefs of his being thoroughly perfuaded of the truth or juilice, of what he delivers; a circum- ilance of no fmall confequence for making impreffion on thofe who hear.
CONTENTS.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION: On Pronunciation, or Delivery : from Dr. Blair's Ledures — Pag. U
Connoijf.
Guard.
Spea.
BOOK I.
Sect. Authors. Pa
i OpHE Vifion of Mirza SpeBatcr.
2 JL Voyage of Life; an Allegory Ramb.
3 Journey of a Day ; Story of Obidah
4 P relent Life conducive to the Happinefs of a
future one — — SpcB.
5 Advantages of a good Education ■■
6 Difadvantages of a bad Education Ramb.
7 Omnifcience, &c. of the Deity Sfe3.
8 Motives to Piety and Virtue ■
9 On the Immortality of the Soul — — ■ io Duty of Children to their Parents — — ■
11 Strength of Parental Affection
12 Remarks on the Swiftnefs of Time Idler.
13 Folly of mif-fpending Time — Ramb.
14 Importance of Time - — SpeR. 1^ Puniihment of mif-fpent Time Guard.
16 Importance of Time to Youth Chejierf.
17 On a lazy and trifling Difpoficion
18 Bad Effects of Indolence —
19 Innocent Pleafures of Childhood
20 Chearfulnefs recommended -
21 Advantages of a cheerful Temper
22 On Truth and Sincerity — — -
23 Rules for the Knowledge of One's Self — — .
24 No Life pleafing to God, but that which is
ufeful to Mankind - Adven.
2; Providence proved by Animal Inftindf. Spetf.
26 Neceifity of forming Religious Principles
at an early Age — - Blair,
27 — — of early acquiring virtuou? Difpo-
fitions and Habits
28 Happinefs and Dignity of Manhood
depend on youthful Conduct — ■ ■ ■
29 Piety to God the Foundation of good
Morals - - — —
30 Religion neverto be treated with Levity
31 Modefty and Docility joined to Piety
32 Sincerity and Truth recommended — —
33 Benevolence and Humanity — — —
34 Courtefy and engaging Manners ■ .
35 Temperancein Pleafure recommended
36 Whatever violates Nature cannot af-
ford true Pleafure — ■
37 Irregular Pleafures, bad Effects of
38 Induitry and Application in Youth — —
39 Employment of Time — ■
40 Succefs depends on Heaven's Blelling
41 Neceffiry of an early and clofe Application
to Wifdom - - Seed.
42 Unhappinefs of not early improving
the Mind - -
43 Greitt Talents not requifite for the
common Duties of Life - — — , 44 AfRuence not to exempt from Study
45 Pieafures refulting from a prudent Uk
of our Faculties — — .
46 Advantages of a Place of Education — —
4- Difcipline cf a Place of Education
4^ Ivregula.it es bring Centre — .
49 Diffidence of one s Abilities approved
50 Temperance in Piaces cf Education
51 Lo Opportunities cannot be recalled
52 Begin lags of Evil to be refifted
Moral and Religious.
Sect. Authors, Pag.
53 Order to be obferved in Amufements Blair. 50
54 to be preferved in your Society — — 51
55 — — necelfary in Bufinefs, Time, &c. 51
56 — — Idlenefs avoided by obferving — — 51
57 — — effential to Self-enjoyment, &c. — — 52
58 Suppreffion of criminal Thoughts ■ . ra
59 Experience anticipated by Reflection ■ c%
60 Beginnings of Paffion to be oppoled
61 Government of the Temper
62 A peaceable Temper recommended
63 Exertions of a benevolent Temper
64 Bleffings of a contented Temper
65 Ufefulnefs of a Defire of Praife
66 Effect-: of exceffive Defire of Praife
67 Ufefulnefs of virtuous Difcipline
68 Confolation of religious Knowledge
69 Senfe of Right and Wrong, &c.
70 Caufe of Infidelity —
71 Religion not founded on Weaknefs of Mind _
72 Effects of Religion, Scepticifm, &c. —
73 Comforts of Religion — —
74 Caufe of Zeal to propagate Infidelity —
75 Propagating Infidelity inexcufable —
76 Religion confidered as a Science — 77 as a Rule of Life and Manners —
78 cures the Difeafes of the Mind —
79 On public Preaching - _ So Religion confidered as exciting Devo- tion — — . _
81 Advantages of Devotion — _
S2 True and falfe Politenefs — . H.
83 On Religious Principles — G/w
84 Beauties of the Pfalms — Ha
85 Temple of Virtuous Love Ta
S6 of Luff: —
87 of Virtue —
SS of Vanity —
89 of Avarice — _
90 Gentlenefs not to be confounded with fincere Politenefs — Bl
91 Opportunities for Benevolence rare, for Gentlenefs continual — _
92 Gentlenefs conducive to our Intereft —
93 Superiority of gentle Manners -
94 Bad Effects of Pride —
95 Violence and Contention caufed bv Trifles — _
96 Gentlenefs promoted by Religion
97 Gentlenefs the Ornament of every Age and Station — — _
981 Pungency of guilty Paffions - -
99 Balance of Happinefs equal —
ico Mifery arifes from the Paffions
101 Nature reftored by Revelation
102 Dep?ndance of Man's Happinefs
103 Caution on feducing Appearances
104 Religious Enthufi ifm, &C.
105 Rigour and Negligence
106 Yirtuj Man's true Iniereil
107 On Gratitude — .
108 Religion the. Foun Uc
109 Bad Company — b 1 i o Ridic^ie
Cbapcne.
71 "3
Harris. 80 SpeB. 8a of Cunt n Adven. Si '"' 'pin. S3
XVI
INTRODUCTION.
Beyond doubt, to thefe virtues their elo- quence owed much of its el Feet ; and thofe ©rations of theirs, in which there breathes moll of the virtuous and magnanimous fpi- rit, are thofe which have moll attraded the admiration of ages.
Nothing, therefore, is more neceffary for thofe who would excel in any of the higher kinds of oratory, than to cultivate habits of the feveral virtues, and to refine and im- prove all their moral feelings. Whenever thefe become dead, or callous, they may be allured, that on every great occafion, they will fpeak with lefs power, and lefs iuccefs. The fentiments and difpofitions particularly requifite for them to cultivate, are the following ; the love of juitice and order, and indignation at infolence and op- preffion; the love of honefty and truth, and deteilation of fraud, meannefs, and cor- ruption ; magnanimity of fpirit ; the love of liberty, of their country and the public ; zeal for all great and noble defigns, and reverence for all worthy and heroic cha- raders. A cold and fceptical turn of mind is extremely adverfe to eloquence; and no lefs fo, is that cavilling difpofition which takes pleafure in depreciating what is great, and ridiculing what is generally admired.
Such a difpofition befpeaks one not very likely to excel in any thing; but lead of all in oratory. A true orator fhould be a peribn of generous lentiments, of warm feelings, and of a mind turned towards the admiration of all thofe great and high ob- jeds which mankind are naturally formed to admire. Joined with the manly virtues, he fhould, at the fame time, poflefs ftrong and tender fenfibility to all the injuries, diitrefies, and forrows, of his fellow-crea- tures; a heart that can eafily relent; that can readily enter into the circumflances of others, and can make their cafe his own. A proper mixture of courage, and of mo- defly, mufl alio be fludied by every public fpeaker. Modefly is elTential; it is al- ways, and juftly, fuppofed to be a conco- mitant of merit; and every appearance of it is winning and prepofieirmg. But mo- defly ought not to run into exceffive timi- dity. Every public fpeaker lhould be able to refl fomewhat on himfelf ; and to affume that air, not of felf-complacency, but of firmnefs, which befpeaks a confeioufnefs of his being thoroughly periuaded of the truth or jullice, of what he delivers; a circum- ilance of no fmall confequence for making impreffion on thofe who hear.
CONTENTS.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION; On Pronunciation, or Delivery : from Dr. Blair's Lectures — Pag. 1,
BOOK I. Moral and Religious.
Sect. Authors. Yi
1 rpHE Vifion of Mirza Spetlatcr.
2 JL Voyage of Life ; an Allegory Ramb.
3 Journey of a Day; Story of Obidah
4 Prefent Life conducive to the Happinefs of a
future one — — SpcB.
5 Advantages of a good Education ■
6 Difadvantages of a baJ Education Ramb.
7 Omnifcience, &c. of the Deity SpeSl.
8 Motives to Piety and Virtue ■
9 On the Immortality of the Soul •— — ■ io Duty of Children to their Parents
11 Strength of Parental Affection — —
12 Remarks on the Swiftnefs of Time Idler.
13 Folly of mif-fpending Time — Ramb.
14 Importance of Time — — Spec!. j 5 Punifhment of mif-fpent Time Guard.
16 Importance of Time to Youth Cbejierf.
17 On a lazy and trifling Difpofition
1 8 Bad Effects of Indolence — Conncijjf.
19 Innocent Pleafures of Childhood Guard.
20 Chearfulnefs recommended — Spcc7.
21 Advantages of a cheerful Temper .
22 On Truth and Sincerity — — —
23 Rules for the Knowledge of One's Self — —
24 No Life pleafmg to God, but that which is
ufeful to Mankind — Adnjen.
2; Providence proved by Animal Inftindf. Spec!.
26 NccetTity of forming Religious Principles
at an early Age — - Blair.
27 — — of early acquiring virtuous Diipo-
fitions and Habits aS Happinefs and Dignity of Manhosd
depend on youthful Conduct — 1
29 Piety to God the Foundation of good
Morals - - — —
30 Religion neverto be treated with Levity — ■ —
31 Modefly and Docility joined to Piety
32 Sincerity and Truth recommended — —
33 Benevolence and Humanity —
34 Courtefy and engaging Manners ■
35 Temperance in Pleafure recommended
36 Whatever violates Nature cannot af-
ford true Pleafure — — - —
37 Irregular Pleafures, bad Effects of —— -
38 Indurtry and Application in Youth — —
39 Employment of Time - — —
40 Succefs depends on Heaven's Blclfing
41 Neceflity of an early and clofe Application
to Wifdom - - Seed.
42 Unh^ppinefs of not early improving
the Mind - —
43 Greut Talents not requifite for the
common Duties of Life - — — — , 44 Affluence not to exempt from Study
45 Pieafures refulting from a prudent Ufe
of our Faculties — — —
46 Advantages of a Place of Education — — 4- Difcipline cf a Place of Education 4^ Lregulant'es bring Cenl'iire —
49 Diffidence of one s Abilities approved
50 Temperance in Piaces cf Education
51 Lo Opportunities cannot be recalled
52 Begin, ings of Evil to be refitted
Grero
Sect. Authors. Pag,
53 Order to be obfervedin Amufements Blair. 50 54 to be preferved in your Society — — 51
55 necelfary in Bufinefs, Time, &c. 51
56 1. Idlenefs avoided by obferving — — 51
57 — — effential to Self-enjoyment, &c. — — 52
58 SuppreiTion of criminal Thoughts . ra
59 Experience anticipated by Reflection ■ ?z
60 Beginnings of Paffion to be oppoled
61 Government of the Temper
62 A peaceable Temper recommended
63 Exertions of a benevolent Temper
64 Bleffings of a contented Temper
65 Ufcfulnefs of a Defire of Praife
66 Effect-: of exceflive Defire of Praife
67 Ufefulnefs of virtuous Difcipline
68 Confolation of religious Knowledge
69 Ssnfe of Right and Wrong, &c.
70 Caufe of Infidelity —
71 Religion not founded on Weaknefs of
Mind - -
72 Effects of Religion, Scepticifm, &c.
73 Comforts of Religion —
74 Caufe of Zeal to propagate Infidelity
75 Propagating Infidelity inexcufable
76 Religion confidered as a Science 77 as a Rule of Life and Manners •
78 cures the Difeafes of the Mind .
79 On public Preaching —
80 Religion confidered as exciting Devc
tion — — »
81 Advantages of Devotion — S2 True and falfe Politenefs
83 On Religious Principles
84 Beauties of the Ffalms
85 Temple of Virtuous Love
S6 of Luft —
87 of Virtue — ,
SS of Vanity — .
89 of Avarice —
90 Gentlenefs not to be confounded with in-
fincere Politenefs — Blair.
91 Opportunities for Benevolence rare, for
Gentlenefs continual — "
92 Gentlenefs conducive to our Interefl .
93 Superiority of gentle Manners
94 Bad Effects of Pride —
95 Violence and Contention caufed bv
Tritfes — — '
96 Gentlenefs promoted by Religion -
97 Gentlenefs the Ornament of every
Age and Station — —
981 Pungency of guilty PafTions - 99 Balance of Happinefs equal —
ico Mifery a rife s from the PafTions
101 Nature reftored by Revelation
102 Dep^ndance of Man's Happinefs
103 Caution on feJucing Appearances
104 Religious Enr.hufi.ifm, Sec.
105 ^— — Rigjur and Negligence
106 Virtue Man's true Iriiereft
107 On Gratitude — • -—■
108 Relig'i'n the Foun l.a 0 of Cont n
109 Bad Company — —
b 110 Rldicu
5 + 55 55 55 56 56 57
53
53 5* 59 59 60 60 62 62 63
64
64
Hurd. 6?
Gregory . Home.
66
67 67 63 63 69 69
O N T
Set*.
Authors. Pn i'0 Ridicule one of the chief Arts of Cor- uption
— — Gilpin.
in Religion the bed and only Support in Cafes of real Strefs —
112 Ridicule dangerous to Morality
113 On Prodigality -
1 14 On Honour - j 15 On Modefty Ii6 On dilinterefted Friendship 117 The Art of Happinefs
115 Happinefs founded in Reditude or
Condud — ■
119 The Choice of Hercules
Sterne- 86
Smollett. 87
Ramb. 8q
Guard. 90
Upecl. 91
Melmoth. 93
Harris. 93
95 Taller. 95
Extracts from DEAN BQLTON's Works.
120 129 Letters on the Choice of Com-
pany _ — _ 96—110
I*o 134 On Intemperance in Eating 112— .117
j-<r — iai On Intemperance in Dunk- ing — — 120—129 j 42— 145 On Pleafure — . 131 — ]37
146 A Letter to a Young Nobleman 139
147 — 150 Effiys on Employment of
Time. — 142—164
CATECHETICAL LECTURES. 151 Introdudion to the Catcchifm Gilpin. 1 52 On the Creed — the Belief of God
153 On the Belief of Jefus Chrift . — —
154 On the Conception and Birth of Chrift j 55 OnChrift's Afcenfion ; Belie fin the
Holy Ghoft —
156 On the Holy Catholic Church — —
157 On the Refurredion of the Body
158 On the Ten Commandments — —
159 WorShip and Honour of God
160 Honour due to God's Word ■
]6i Duties owing to particular Perfons
162 Duty in our Teachers and Inftruc
tors, Src. - -
163 Behaviour to Superiors —
164 Againft wronging our Neighbour by
injurious Words — — —
165 — — by injurious Actions — — — —
j66 Duties to ourf-kes
167 On coveting other Men's Goods — —
368 On the Sacrament of B.'ptifm
169 OntheSacrarnent'of the Lord's Supper —
3^0 Expostulation with Believers M. Pafcal.
,ti Of the Temper of Mind neceffary for the
Diffovery of Divine Truth fVhifion.
17a The Divine Legation of Mofes Lord Forbes.
173 On the Old and NewTeftanvnc V/ilkins.
174 Dcfign and Intention of the Hebrew Go-
vernment — —
171
172
174
177
180 1S2 184 185 1S8 190 192
193
195 399
201
204
2CJ-
t-5 Fulfilmentofthe Prophecies, an Argument for the Truth of the Bible Bp. Nov ton. 1 76 The Excellence of Scripture Stillingfieet
177 Prevalence of Chriftianity, an Argument
of its Diviniry — — Fenelon.
178 Arguments for the Truth of the Gofpel
H.Ditton.
179 Fads related in the Evangelists to 'e re-
lied on — — Abf. Singe.
150 Superiority of the Gofpel, an Argumc nt of
its Truth — — Seed.
151 Reafoninga in Favour of Chriftianity
lip. Porttut.
E
Seel. 182
,83 184 185
1S6
187
1 S3
189
190
191
192 193
194
195 196
197 ig3
199
200
201
202
203
204
205 206
207
2CS 2C9
N
s.
255 263
263 265
266
267
|
21 I 2 1 8 |
212 |
|
22 1 |
"3 |
|
223 |
214 |
|
230 236 |
2! 5 2 16 217 |
|
244 |
2lS |
|
244 |
219 220 |
|
244 |
PI-T |
|
245 |
|
|
24C |
Authors. Pag. Dutyof examining Difficulties inthe Word
of God — — Butler. 248
Gofpel Information moft de fir zbk Sherlock. 249 Chrift and Mahomet compared — 2C.O
Madnefs and Abfurdity of Infidelity
Bentlew 251 The New Testament could not be forged
Micbaelis. 25! Extent, Object, and End of the Prophetic
Scheme - . . Hurd. 253
Fhilofophic Principles to be learnt from
Nature, Religious from Grace Hallifax. 254 Comparifon between Heathenifm and.
Chriftianity — — Saurbi.
Gofpel Oratory fuperior to Heathen Writ-
ingS — ~~ Baxter.
Obfcuritles in Scriptures no Proof of their
not being genuine — Edivardz.
Bible fuperior to all other Books
Religious Knowledge derived from Revela- tion — — Drydcn. 265 Weaknefs of Infidels — Unbeliever's Creed
Anon. Moral Demonstration of the Truth of the
Christian Religion Bp. Tayloi .
Considerations refpeding the Perfon of
Jefus Chrift — 268
refpeding his Dodrine 273
refpeding the Efled and
Instruments of his Religion ___ 275
— on the weak Pretences of
other Religions —
To the Sceptics and Infidels of the Ape Bp. Watjon. Mistakes in judging of Scripture Style,
&c — — Stackboufe.
A Prayer or Pfalm — Ld. Bacon
Dodrine of Chrift, a Dodrine of Truth
and Simplicity -— Dr. Clark. 295
Superiority of Sacred Hiftory and Christian
Philofophy — — Martlkn, 295
Light of Reafon imperfed Ld. Littleton. 297 Simplicity of the Sacred Writers Weft, 297 Superiority of Christian Philofophy over
Stoical — — Mifi Carte. 299
Scriptures to be admired the more they
are itudied — — Rhiliips. 301
Inftances of Friendship in the Scrip- tures — — Mtlmotb. 30a Fine Morality of the Gofpel Beattie. 303 Beneficence to the Poor enjoined by the
Gofpel. — — Palty. 304
Simplicity of the Gofpel gives it an Air of
Sublimity. — Maintvaring. 304
Bible, as a curious ancient Hiftory, worthy
Attention — — Croxall. 304
Excellence of the Sacred Writings Bicwn. 305
Queen Anne's Prayer — 305
Prince Eugene's Prayer — 306
The gay young Altamont dying Young. 306 Majefty and Supremacy of the Scriptures
confefled by a Sceptic — Roufl'cau. 307 Earl of Rochester's dying Recantation 308 To the Biograplvr of Hume Home. 309
281
290 294
PHYSICO-THEOLOG1CAL REFLECTIONS
1 Reftcdions on the Heavens Fergufon. 31O
2 . ;« on the Ii.u-:h and S.a — 314
o _-_^™ — —. on the Atmofphere — ;ao>
4 Refledioos
C O N T
Sect. Authors. Pag.
4 Reflexions on the Vegetable Creation
Fergufon. 322
5 On Beads, Birds, Fi flies, &c. 326
6 Obfervations on the Difference between
Natural and Artificial Things — — 334
7 Confiderations on the Nature of Man — 335 8 — ■ on the Chain of Being 342
N
s.
221
222
*23
224
225
326
227
228 229
230
231 232 233
234
*35
236 237 2l8
Pa
239
240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247
Scriptures the Rule of Life Cbapone. 344 Of Generis — — 344
— Exodus - - 345
— Leviticus, Numbers, Deutero- nomy — - ■ 346
— Jofhua - - — — 34^
— Judges, Samuel, and Kings 347
— Chronicles, Erra, Nehemiah, and
Either — — 347
— Job — — 343
— the Pfalms — 348
— Proverbs, Ecclefiafles, Solomon's
Song, Pi" phefies, Apocrypha 349
— the New Testament — 349
— our Saviour's Example, &c. — — 350 Comparative View of the Bleffed and
Curled — — 351
Character of St. Paul - 352
Of the Epiftles — 352
E pi (lie of St. James — — 353
Epiftle^of St. Peter, &C, 353
— — — Revelation - — — 354
ECONOMY of HUMAN LIFE. rt I. Duties that relate to man. Introduction Confideration Modefty Application Emulation Prudence Fortitude Contentment Temperance
The P
248 Hope and Fear 2.49 Joy and Grief
250 Anger •
251 Pity —
252 Defire and Love
253 Woman
•0*
354 354 355 355 355 35o 356 357 357
35? 355 5 59 360 360 360
Sea 2 54 255 256
a57
258
259 260 261
262 263
264 265 266
267
268 269
270 271
272 273 274 275 276 277 278
279
280 281 282
2S3 284
286 287 2S8
Confanguinity or Natural Relations.
Authors. Hufband — — »■ « —
Father — — — —
Brothers — — — —
Pro-videmce, or Accidental Differences.
Wife and Ignorant — '-
Rich and Poor — ■
Mailers and Servants — ■
Magistrates and Subjects — ■ ■
The Social Duties.
Benevolence — ■ ■
Juftice — — — —
Charity — — — —
Gratitude — —
Sincerity — — ■
Part II. Man" considered.
Man cenfdered in the General.
Of the Human Frame and Structure —
Of the Uie of the Senfes
The Soul of Man — ■»
The Period of Human Life
Man confidered in regard to his Irfirmities.
Vanity — — — —
Inconstancy — — — —
Insufficiency of Knowledge — —
Mifery .— —
Judgment — — — — •
Prelumption — — — —
Of the AfetJiotis of Man:
Covetoufnefs — — ■
Profusion — — — — —
Revenge — — » ■
Cruelty, Hatred, Envy —
Heavinefs of Heart — — —
The Advantages Man may acquire
Nobility and Honour — — —
Science and Learning — — —
Of Natural Accidents. Profperity and Adversity — ■
Pain and Sicknels — — —
Death — —
Pa?.
31
361 362 362.
36a 363 363 364
364 ^65 365 365 ■;66 366
367
368
36S
- 369
371 37i 373 373 375 375 376
37S 378 379 3»o 3S1
382
3'33
3S4 3S5 3S5
Prays
289 A Morning Prayer for a Young Student. — 385
290 An Evening Prayer — — 3S6
291 The Lord's Prayer — 3S6
BOOK II. Claffical and Hiftorical.
Enrfirial Effects of a Tafle for Belles Lettres — B
2 Effects of the Cultivation of Tafle -
3 Improvement of Tal'te —
4 On Style — —
5 — Perfpicuity —
6 — Purity and Propriety -
7 — Precision — —
2 LTfe and Importance of Precision -
9 Caufes of a loofe Style —
10 Style, general (Jharatlers of
11 Aufteie, Florid, and Middle
pi — — Cor.cile — —
13 Diffule —
14 Nervous and Feeble
15 Harthnefs of —
16 the Dry — -
17 — — the Plain —
the
'air.
337 387 3S8 388 389 3S9 39° 39° 391 391
592
393
394
~»— 394
the Neat — — Blair
the Elegant —
the Florid — —
Simplicity, different Kinds of ■
.ip pears ealy — ■
Naivete —
Ancients eminent for
Characterise of Tillotfon's Style
of Sir W. Teople's Style — — 398
of Mr. Addition's Style 359
399
399 400 401 401 4c 1
395 395 395 396
397 397
39S 398
27
2.8 of Style never wearies
29 Lor.) Shafteibu<y deficient in —
30 On the Vehement Style — —
31 Lord Bolingbroke excelled in it —
32 Directions for forming a Style —
33 Practice necefi'aiy for farming a Style —
34 Words, too anxious a Care about co
be avoided
bl
402
35 Acquaintance
O N
E N
S.
Sect. Authors.
35 Acquaintance with the bed Authors
necefTary t:> form a Style — Blair.
36 A ferv'Ie Imitation to be avoided
y Style malt be adapted to the Subject
33 Attention to Style muft not detract
from \ tent;o,i to Thought
39 Of th Rle of Poetry among the Ro-
mans — — S pence
40 Of Livius, Nsevius, and Ennius
41 — Plaurus - -
4a — Terence _ _——
43 — A '"rani us — —
44 — Pacuvius and Adtius -
45 — the Rile of Satire ; of Lucilius, &c.
46 — the Criticifms of Cicero, &c.
47 • — the fliurifhing State of Poetry
among the Romr.ns 4S OSfe va ions on 'he yEneid 40 Of H race - _
50 — Tibullus, Propertius, and Ovid
51 — Phsedrus —
^2 — Minilius — —
53 — the Poets whofe Works have not
c mc down to us —
54 — Fall of Poetry armng the Romans
55 — Lucan - "
56 His Defcription of a S^a-fight
57 Of Pe.iius _
58 — ci ius, Statius, and Val. Fiaccus
55 — Martial - - 1_
63 — Juvenal — —
61 the Introduction, Sec. of Arts at Rome
62 The Condition of the Romans in the
fecond Punic War -
63 Marcellus's Attack on Syracufe ?
64 Conquefts of the Roman Generals
65 Introduction into Italy of the Works
of the ancient Artifts
66 Decline of the Aits, Eloquence, and
P etry, on Auguftus's Death
67 On Demofthenes - Blair.
6& Demofthenes imitated Pericles
69 controlled with /Efchines —— •
70 On the Style of Demofthenes
71 Cicero, his Eloquence — — —
72 his Defects - —
73 and Demofthenes compared
74 Means of improving in EIoqucr.se
75 Induftry recommended to a Speaker
76 Attention to the heft Models
77 Caution in ehufing Models ■
7S Style of Bolingbroke and Swift
79 Eloquence requires frequent Exercife
80 Ufe of Critical and Rhetorical Writers
81 Ufe of the* original ancient Writers
?z Necsffiry ox a Claffical Education Felton.
2>3 On the Entrance to Knowledge
£4 The daffies recommended
£5 Greekand Roman Writers compared
86 Commendation of the Latin Tongue
87 Directions in reading the ClafTics
88 The Method of Schools vindicated
89 Commendation of Schools — _ ' : formin i Style —
91 Expreffion fui ted to the Thought —
92 On Embellishments of Style
«)3 — Mafte y of Language .
94 — the Purity and Idipm of Language
05 — Plainncfs and Perfpicuity
96 — the Decorations, Sec. of Style ■■- ■—
Pag.
402
402 403
40 3
403 404 405 405 406 406 407 407
4c 3
410 410 41 1 411
412 4i3
4i5 41 6 4,6
4i7 417 41S
419
421 421 422 422 42- 4=3 4-4 4-5 426 426 426 427
427 438 428
429
429
4.30
432, 432
433 433 434 434
43 5 456
Se£t. Authors, Pag.
97 On Metaphors and Similitudes Felton. 437
9S — Metaphors — — — 477
99 — Epithets — — — 438
00 — Allegories — ■ 438
01 — the Sublime — 438
02 P. u!cs of Order and Proportion ■ 4^9
03 A Recapitulation — — — 440
04 Plow to form a right Tafte 440
05 Tafte to be improved by Imitation 441
06 On the Historical Style 442
07 Of Herodotus aid Thucydides 442
08 — Sa'luft and Livy - 442
09 Their Vi's in Style — 444
10 On Spencer and Shakefpeare — ■*— 444
11 — Milton ar.d Philips — — 444
12 Great Men ufually coremporary Blair. 445
13 Four Aces marked out by the Learned 445
14 Reputation of the Ancients 445
15 no': owing to Pedantry _— _ 446
id Moderns excel the Ancients 446
17 Excellencies of the Ancients and
18 Affiduous Study of the Greek and
Roman Ciaffics recommended 447
19 Excellencies of the ancient Hiftorians 44S
22 On the Bi auty of Epiftolary Writing 449
23 Carelefihefs in it to be avoided 4^3
24 On Pliny's Letters — — — 449
25 — Ciceio's — — — — 449
26 — Pope's and Swift's — — — 450
27 On the Letters of Balzac, Voiture, Sec. 450
28 Pindar the Father of Lyric Poetry — — ^^i
29 On Horace, as a Lyric Poet 451
30 — Cafimir, and other modern Ly-
ric Poets —
31 — the different Kinds o; Poet'cat
Composition in the Sacred Books; 1 ft. of the Did attic
32 Of the Elegiac and Paftoral
33 On the Lyric -
34 A Diverfky of Style and Manner in
the different Compofers of the la- ne J Books. ., On Job, David, and Ifaiah
35 — Jeremiah
36 — the Book of job —
— 45 '
451 452
452.
the Iliad of Homer
G.;j T •'.- of Homer
sauties of Virgil
40 Homer and Virgil compared
.—— 45 5
On Che ancient Writers Blackmail.
42 — Homer — — — 4^7
43 — Theocritus - 457
45 — Livy - - 458
46 Beauties of Herodotus and Livy 4^8
47 Perfpicuity a principal Beauty of
the Ciaffics — 458
48 On Cicero — - 4^9
49 On the Obfcurities in tlie Claflics — — 4-9 jo Advantages enjoyed by them — — 460
51 Ancients Care in felecring Numbers 462
52 On their making Sound an Echo to
the Senfe — — 462
53 Translations from them imperfect 463
54 Peculiar Excellence of the Speeches
of the Greeks and Romans 464
155 On the Funeral Oration of Pericles 465
j <6 Oa
O N T
N
S.
SeCt 56 '57 = 58 t59
iOO
1G1 162
E63
164 r65 E65
.67
[63
:ho 170 [71
17a
'73 ■74 175 176 177 i78
'70 tJ8o
183
i8S r86
-87
r';J i29
too
[91
192
m
[94
'95 .96
'97 [98
99
2CO 2PI 5.02 2C3 204 205 206
207
a?8
Authors. Pag. On Mucian's Speech in Tacitus Black-zvall. 466
Morals of the Claflics - 4°6
Xenophon's Memoirs of Socrates 467
On the Morality of Juvenal 467
Rules of the Claflics for Con verfation 468
Directions for reading the Claflics 468
The fubordinate Claflics not to be
negleCted - - 469
The Greek and Latin Writers to be
compared - — — — 47°
On the Study of the New Teftament 47 1
The old Critics to be ftudied 471
The beft Authors to be often read 472
Rife of PhilofophicalCriticifm Harris. 472
Greek Authors of Ditto 473
Roman Authors of Ditto 473
Greek and Roman Hiftorical Critics 474
Modern, Philofophic.il, and Hiftorical
Critics - - ■■ 474
Lexicon and Dictionary Compilers,
and Grammarians —
Modern Critics, Writers, &c.
On Tranflators -
Rife of Corrective Criticifm — —
Criticifm of Ufe to Literature
The Epic Writers came firft — —
Chance produces no Literary Ex- cellence - — — Caufes or Reafons of fuch Excellence — — Why Contraries have this Effect — —
Advice to a Beginner in Criticifm
On Numerous Compofition — —
On other Decorations of Profe ; as Alliteration - — —
The Period -
Monofyllables - ■
Authorities alledgcd -
ObjeCtors anfwercJ — — — —
Habit makes Practice eafy
The Constituent Parts of every Whole merit our Regard ■
Verbal Decorations not Minutiae
Ad /ice to Readers —
Constituent Parts of a Whole ; ex- empt.fied in Virgil's Georgics — —
And in the Menexenus of Plato
On the Theory of Whole and Parts
— Accuracy — — —
— Diction — ■
— - the M'etaphor -
What Metaphors the beft — —
On Enigmas and Puns
Rules defended - — —
Fallacy of the Sufficiency of Genius
No Genius without Rules -
Rules did always exiit -
Connexion between Rules and Genius Difficulty in knowing how to like ■ Character of the Englifll, Oriental,
Latin, and Greek Languages
Hiftory, &c. of the Middle Age
Account of the DeftruCtion of the
Alexandrian Library — — — 495
475 475 475 476
477 477
478 A78 478 480 480
480
481 482 482 4S2 482
483' 483 483
483 485 486 486 486 486 4S7 488 48 s 11S9
489
489
/ICO
491
494
SeCt. 209
21 1
212 213 214
215 2l6
217
2lS 219
220 221 222 -23 224 225 226 227 228 229 23O 23I
2;2
233
234 235
236
237
238
239
24G
241
242 243 244
245
246 247 248 249
2C0 251 252 253
-55 256
-57 25S
?59 260 261 262 263
Authors. Athens, an hiftorical Account of Harris. — — Syneiius's fublequcnt Ac- count of - — — - Anecdote of the Modern Greeks — — —
On the different Modes of Hiftory
Univerfal Ideas of Na:ural Beautv
Superior Literature and Knowledge
of the Greek and Latin Clergy
Opinions on paft and prefentAges ■
Character of the Man of Bufmefs
often united with that of the
Scholar and Philofopher .
Progreffions of Art difguftful, the
Completions beautiful — —
Thoughts on Elegance — TJJhcr.
On Perfonal Beauty —
On Converfation — — —
On Mufic - - — —
On Sculpture and Painting -
On Architecture — ■
Thoughts on Colours and Light — — On Uniformity — — —
On Novelty — —
Origin of our general Ideas of Beauty — — Senfe, Tafte, and Gen'us difhnguifhed Thoughts en the Human Capacity — — Tafte, how depraved and loft ■
Some Reflections on the Human Mind General Reflections on Good Tafte Rollin. Dr. Johnson's Preface to his Edition of
Sliakefpear —
Pope's Preface to his Homer
An Effay on Virgil's Georgics, prefixed to Mr. Dryden's Tranfiation Addifon. Hiftory of the Heathen Deifies Anon.
NegleCt of Oratorical Numbers Fuxojb. Upon Grace in Writing — — .
Style of Horace in his Moral Writings
Criterion of Tafte —
On Mr. Pope's Houfe at BinSeld •
Ufe of Ancient Mythology
Delicacy of Authors of Genius -
ReflCtions upon Style —
On Thinking — — —
Advantages of Converfation
On the great Hiftorical Ages Voltaire.
On the Englifll Constitution, Mwttfq.
Of Columbus, and America Voltaire.
Influence of Science on Men Robert/.
Refpeft paid to Old Age Spea.
On Psetusand Arria — P/itty.
Sidonians Choice of a King ®- Cutt.
Resignation of Charles V. Robertf.
Account of Muli Moluc — Speil.
Valentine and Unnion Tatler.
Example of Hiftorical Narration Sail.
Story of Damon and Pichius Cicero.
D'.onyfius the Tyrant
Remarkable Inftance or Filial Duty Pliny. Continence of Scpio Africanus Liv;.
Private L:fe of viimilius Sc'pio Rollin. On Punctuation — Loivtb,
Pag« 495
498 499 500 500
502 5°5
508
509
5C9 5'4 516
5*7
518
520 520
521 521 Sii
5^4
524
525, 526
•GKS&EBanm
BOOK III. Orations, Charafters, and Letters.
1 THIRST Oration againft Philip
JL Leland. 613
2 The firft Olynthiac Oration — 620
3 The lecond ditto — — — _ 624
|
4 The third ditto — |
Lelar.J. 629 |
|
5 Oration againft Catiline |
Wbitivortb. 632 |
|
6 Ditto — — |
639 |
|
7 Ditto — — |
645 |
|
8 Orat;on |
O N
E N
S.
Seft.
S Oration againir Catiline
9 for Archias —
lo fur T. Annius Milo
11 Cicero's Oration againft Verres
12 Oration of Pericles — 33 H mlet t I the PI :yers — 1
14 Charaftei o. Marius —
15 Romulus ro he Romans — J 6 Charaft-r or Sylla — 17 Hannibal to Scipio Africanus 38 S ;pio's Anfwer >—
19 Char.iif'er of Pompey —
20 Speech of Semcato Nero ai Charidemus — .
22 harnfter of Julius Caef.ir
23 CalUftheres's R- -proof of Cleon C.4 Charafterof Cato —
25 PrutusvindicatesCaefar's Murder
26 Caefar compared with Cato
27 C ma M ir us to the Romans
28 Character f Catiline —
29 itiis Qu niiius to the Romans go f. ic p a to Jugurtha — 31 uhl us Sc p;r t the Roman Army Hooke. 702
Author?. Pag.
Wbitwortb 652
659
664
Cic. Or at. 685
- Tbucyd. 687
Sbakff. 691
Middl 691
H oke 692
Mtddl. 692
Hake. 693
694
Middl. 694
Corn. Tacit. 695
£\ Curt. 696
Middl. 697
^. CW. 697
Middl. 698
s<fcfl*f/: 608
&//«/?. 699
609
700
Hooke. 701
Saliuft. 702
3: Hannitrl to the Carthaginian Army
703 705 705 706
7C7
33 Character of Hannibal — Lh-y
34 Scj thian ArribafE to Alexander ^. Curt, •? Junius Brutus over Lucrc-tia Livy, 36 Adherbal to the Roman Senate Sailu/l,
1 37 Cam leius to the Roman Confuls Hooke.
1 38 Life of Cicero — — Middl. 710
39 Character of Martin Luther Robert/. 731
40 Character of Alfred K. of England Hume. 732
41 Another — - Smollett. 733
42 Charafterof William the Conqueror Hume. 733
43 Another
44 Another
45 Charafterof William Rufus -
46 Another - —
47 Character of Henry I. —
48 Another - -
49 Charafter of Stephen. -
50 Another -
51 Charafter of Henry II. - t|2 Another - - 53 Charafter of Richard I. - <;4 Another - -
55 Charafter of John —
56 Another - -
57 Charafter of Henry III. -
58 Another
59 Charafter cf Edward I. '- to Another - —
61 Charafterof Edward I!. -
(>2 Another - -
63 Charafter of Edward III. —
64 A'o.her -
£5 Charafter of Richard II. —
66 Another -
C7 An ther — -
63 Charafter of Henry IV.
( 9 Another - -
70 Cha after of Henry V. —
71 Ait other - — -1 Account of Henry VI. —
73 De.th of Henry VI.
74 Chaafte. of Edward I , «.
734 734 73 • 736 736
Smollett Lyttle .-:
Hume. Smollett, ■ Hume, Smollett. 736
Hume. 737 Smollttt. 737
Hume. 737 Smollett,
Hume, " Smollett. 738
II urn. 730 Smollett, 739
Hume. Smollett.
Hume. Smollett.
Hume. Smell, it.
Hume. Si
Heny. 1 Sm Hen
Hume.
Sr oi/ett
Hume,
Smollct
Hume
7-;o
me
7-14 " \ 744 745 7 A 5 74<
Seft,
75 76
77 78
79
Authors. Another - - Smollett.
Another — — Rapin.
Edward V. — — — —
Charafter of Richard III. — Hume. Another - - Smollett.
Charafter of Henry VII. — Hume. Another — — Smollett.
Charafter of Henry VIII. — Hume. Another — — Smollett.
Charafter of Edward VI. — Burnet. Another — — Hume,
Another — — Smollett.
Charafterof Mary — Hume.
Another — — Smollett.
Charafter of Queen Elizabeth Rapin.
Another — — Hume.
Another — — Smollett.
Charafter of James I. — Macauhy. Another — — Smollttt.
Another — — Hume.
Another — — Rapin.
Charafter of Charles I. — Smollett. Another — — Hume.
Another — — Macauley.
Charafterof Oliver Cromwell Noble.
Charafterof Charles II. Hume.
Another — — Smollett.
Another — — Burnet.
Another — Macpberfon.
Charafter of James II. — — —
Another — — Macauley.
Charafter of William III. Smollett.
Another — Macpberjon.
Charafter of Mary, Queen Confort
of William III. — Smollett.
Charafter of Anne — — —
Another — Cbnrr.lerltine.
Another — Macpherfon.
Charafterof Mary Queen of Scots Robert. fter of Francis'I. - ■ —
■ Ep-iir.inondas - Lcl.ind.
Comparifon or" Political Principles and
Conduct of Cato. Atticus, and Cicero
Middkton.
Charafter of Lord Townfend CI efierf.
Mr. Pope
19 — — Lord Bolingbroke - — —
20 Mr. Pulteney — —
Zi Sir 1 role -
23 __ Mr. Peiham - -
24 Earl of Scarborough —
26 Duk iftle -
27 Duke of E -
£8 Anotl sr Charafter of him J:u:ii:s.
29 Charafter of Mr. Henry Fox Cbefterf.
30 Mr. Pitt -
31 Another Charafterof him Smollett.
32 Another — - Ar.:n.
33 Another - - Burke. 34, Speech on reducing the Army Pulteney. :.- for repealing the Septennial
Aft — " A'/> John St. Aubin.
-6 The Minifter'a Reply to Ditto Walpoh. . ;■ Speech on luteal oi the Jew Bill Lytt.
Pap.
746 746 746 747 747 747 748 748 749 749 749 750 750 750 750 751 75* 753 75+ 754 754 755 755 756
757 757 758 758 759 760 760 76a 763
764 764 764
765 765 766 767
768
770
77i 771
774 7"4 774 -6 —6 776 777 778 778 7-9 7 So '780 78r
785
785 7S7
BOOK
O N
N
S.
BOOK IV.
Seft.
Narratives, Dialogues, &c. with other humourous, facetious, and entertaining' Pieces.
Authors.
Sterne.
Pag.
789
793 794 795
797 793
800 801 803 805 806 808 810 811
H E Story of Le Fevre Yorick's Death —
3 Alcander and Septimius Byzant. Hi/i.
4 The Monk - - Sterne.
5 Sir Bertrand ; a Fragment Aikin.
6 On Human Grandeur — Goldjmitb.
7 Dialogue between Mr. Addifon and Dr.
Swift „— Dialogues of the Dead.
8 The Hill of Science ; a Vrfion Aikin.
9 On the Love of Life — Goldf.
10 The Canal and the Brook . Aikin.
11 The Story of a difabled Soldier Goldf in.
12 Ulyffes and Circe — Dial. Dead.
13 Love and Joy ; a Tale - Akin.
14 Scene between Coi. Rivers and Sir Harry
15 On Dignity of Manners - Cbefterf. 8 12
16 On Vulgarity - 812
17 On Good-breeding — — — Si 3
18 Dialogue betwixt Mercury, an Englifh
Duellift, and a North American Sa- vage — Dialogues of the Dead. 815
19 Bayes's Rules for Compofitio.n Bucking. 8:7
20 The Art of Pleafing - Chef erf. 818
21 Dialogue between the Plinys Dial. Dead. 818
22 Scene between Boniface and Aimwell
Farquhar. 820
23 Endeavours to pleafe are fcarcely u'nfuc-
cefsful — — Chejhrf S21
24 A Dialogue between M. Apicius and
Darteneuf - Dial. Deed. 822
25 Scene between Iago and Caffio Sbakef. S25
26 Dialogue between Mercury and a Modern
Fine Lady - Dial. De-.-d. 826
27 Scene between Shylock and Tubal Sbakef. S27 2S Seene betweeen P. Henry and Falftaff '• 8-28
29 Scene between Moody and Manly 829
30 Management of Wit — Cbefterf. 830 3c Egotifm to be avoided — 831
32 Letter to Lord * * * * - Baling. 832
33 The Birth of Martinus Scriblerus Pope. 833
The Dodor and his Shield 833
The Nutri ion of Scriblerus 835
Play Things — - ' — — - 835
Muiic — — 837
Logic - - 838
The Seat of the Soul - 838
The Sou! a Quality - — — 839
34 Diverfity of Geniufes - — — 839 The Advancement of the Bathos — — 840
Dedications and Panegyrics 841
A Recipe to makean Epic Poem . 841
To make an Epic Poem -« — — — 842
75 The Duty of a Clerk — 843
36 Cruelty to Animals — — —843
37 Paftoral Comedy ~ — — — 844
38 Dogs - - 845
39 Ladv Mary Wortley Montague — — 845
40 The Manners of a Bookfeller 846
41 Defcription of a Country Seat — — 848
42 Apology for his Religi >us Tenets 850
43 Defence agiinft a Noble Lord's Reflexions 851
44 The Death of Mr Gay . 853
45 Envy - - Rambler. 853
46 Epicurus's Character - . Orrery. 854
859
Boling. 8s9 86a
Sect. Authors. Pag.
47 Example, its Prevalence — Boling. S55 dangerous when copied without
Judgment - — — - 855
48 Exile only an imaginary Evil — — 855 — cannot hurt a reflecting Man 856
49 Love of Fame — Fitzojb. 856
50 Enthufiafm — — 857
51 Free-thinking, Abufes of — Cohnoiff". S5S The Unbeliever's Creed
52 Fortune not to be fruited — her Evils difarmed by Patience
53 Delicacy conftitutional — Hume. 860
of Tafte dellrable 860
■ teaches us to feledt our Company S6 c
54 Detraction a deferrable Vice Rambler
55 Learning, its Application
its Progrefs
ufelefs without Tafte —
its Obirructions ■ —
56 Mankind, a Portrait of —
57 Manors, their Origin, &c. 5S Hard Words defended —
59 Difcontent, its common Lot
60 Feodal Syftem, Hiltory of Ci Of Britifh Juries —
62 Juftice, its Nature, &c. defined
63 Habit, Difficulty of conquering
861
— II
862 S5«
Idler. 863
Sterne. 864
Blacujlune. 865
Idler. 863
Rambler. 869
Blaekfone. 870
Orrery. 873
Galdjm. ~
Idler.
>74 574
^75
876 2-7 S77
87S
64 Halfpenny, its Adventures Adventurer. 65, Hiftory, our natural Fondnefs for it, and
its true Ufe — Boling.
65 Human" Nature, its Dignity Hume.
67 — — • Operations of coniidered Orrery.
68 Oeconomy, Want of it no Mark of
Genius — Adventurer.
69 Operas ridiculed — Lyttelton. 879
70 Patience recommended Edirgbrokc. 8S0
71 — — exemplified in the Stoiy of an
Afs — — Sterne. 8C0
72 Players in a Country Town defcribed Conn. 83 e
73 often miflake the F-ffect 882
74 True Pleafure defined — Seed. 883
75 Politenefs, how manifested Hume.
76 Poet, Bufinefs and Qualifications of de- fcribed — fohnfo;:.
— — Remarks on fome of the bell, both Ancient and MoJern — - Drydcn.
• Remarks on fome of the beft En-
glifh Dramatic ones — — —
Property, Origin and Right of, ex- plained — — Blaekfone..
80 Retirement of no Ufe to fome Baling.
81 Revolution of 1688, its Ccnfequences
82 Riddles defended — Fitxaib.
83 Senfes perverted by Fafhion Smollett.
84 Simplicity, its Beauty in Writing BroKvn.
85 — — confpicuous in the Scriptures
06 preferable to Refinement in writing
Hume. 87 Suicide, Effay on — Connoiff. h'97
38 Enumeration of Superftuions obferved
in the Country — — —
S9 Swearing, indelicate and wicked — ■*-
go Sympathy,- a Source of the Sublime 91 Effects in the Diftfelles of other:
Burke Q2 Tears not unworthy cf an Hero Dryder. 93 Terror, a Source or the Sublime Burke
94 Tragedy
8V3 884 ?Q ' S86 8S7
s9; s9i 891 S92 894 0^4
"95
9c 2
9° 3
9-4
C O N T
Sect. Authors. Pag.
94 Tragedy comparedwith Epic Poetry Dryden. 904
95 Tranflatioris, Hiflory of — Idle
96 Talents to form a good Tranflator, Dryden. 907
97 Wit, the Nature of in writing
9S Examples that Words may affect
without raifing Images — Burke. 99 Characteristics of Whig and Tory
Parties — — Hume.
00 Painting difagreeahle in Women Connoijf.
01 Advantages of Satire pointed out Fitxijb. 913
02 Juvenal and Horace compared Dryden. 913
03 Delicate Satire not eafily hit off
04 Works of Art defective — Sfeer. Advantages from their Si- milarity to tliofe of Nature
On the Progrefs of the Arts — Idler. Afh-onomy, Study of, delightful Tatler. The Planetary and Tcrreftrial Worlds comparatively considered — Spell. Character of Toby Bumper - Cor.noif. Caufes of National Characters Hume. Chaflity an Ornament to Beauty Spec!. 92
a valuable Virtue in a Man Guard. 920
Characters of Gameflers — ConvciJ. 921 Tatler's Advice to his Sifter Tatler.
On Curiofiry — — Sterne.
Contrcverfy feldom decently con- ducted — — Browne. Converfation, how to pleafe in Rambler.
various Faults in — Conno'iJ. 925
Citizen's Country Houfe defcribed 927
Humorous Scene between Dennis the
92S 930 930 oto
E N
S.
905 907 909
910
911
912 913
913
- 9*5 9r5
916 916
917
918 919
922 923
925 92
„<?™;
Jir.on. Spec. Stake;'.
Thornton.
Critic and the Doclor —
The Two Bees — —
Pleafant Scene of Anger —
FalftafPs Encomiums on Sack
Hotfpur reading a Letter —
FalftafTs Soliloquy on Honour
The perfect Speaker —
D> (tempers of the Mind cured
Character of a Choice Spirit
A Citizen's Family letting out for Brighthelmftone —
Character of a mighty ?ood Kind
of Man — ' — 935
Character of a mighty good Sort of
Woman — ' — 937
On the allected Strangeneis of lome
Men of Quality — 939
On the Arrogance of younger Bro- thers of Quality — , 939
934
'-:-7
Authors. Perfonsof Quality proved Traders Thornton.
On Pedantry — —
A Sunday in the Country — —
On the Militia —
On going to Bath, &c. — —
The faint-hearted Lover — — — Coronation, Detail of — — —
Letter from a fuccefsful Adventurer
in the Lottery — — —
Characters of Camilla and Flora Gre-ville.
A Fable, by Linnajus —
Mercy recommended — Sterne.
The S'ailing — —
The Captive — —
Trim's Explanation of the Fifth
Commandment —
Health — —
Pa?.
941
943 944
945 947 943 949
9 '4 955 956 1
('-"7 957 9 5 8
95S
95^
148 A Voyage to Lit. liput. Swift. Chap. I. Author's Account of himfelf 958
. II. The Emperor 1 f Lihiput viiits
the Author in h'.ii Confinement 963 III. The Emperor and his No- bility diverted by him — — 967
IV. Metropolis defcribed — 971
— — V. Author prevents an Invafion 973
1 VI. Inhabitants of Lllliput 976
— __ VII. Author's Efeape to BSefufcu 9S0 VIII. Return to h's nativeCountry 9S4
149 A Voyage to Brob ding nag
Chap. I. A great Storm defcribed - 986 II. Delcription of the Farmer's
Daughter — — — 992
— — III. Author fent for ro Court 995 ■ IV. The Country defcribed — 999
— — V. Adventures that happened to
the Author — — icor
— — VI. Contrivance? of the Author
to pleafe the King and Queen — 1006 — — VII. Author's Love of his Country ICC9 i VIII. His Return to England 1012
150 Detached Sentences —
151 Proverbs — —
152 Old Italian Proverbs — 1^3 Old Spanifh Proverbs — 134 The V\ av to WeaLh — 155 In Praife of Virtue —
1 56 On Cruelty to inferior Animals
157 On the Duties of School Boys
Various. ioiS
— 1028
— 1034 Franklin. 1040
Price. 1044
Jenytit. 1044.
Rodin. 1046
A
HE Calendar of Flora
Stillingfeet. 1 04S NATURAL HISTORY. The Hovfe Pennant. icGo
— Dog - . 10C7
— Wild Cat 1071
— Domeftic Cat 1071
Explanation of Term? in
Ornithology 1072
The pigeon - — — 1073
— B c-ckbiid - — — 1074
— Bulfii ch 1C74
— Goldfinch • 1075
— Linnet 1C,75
— Canaiy Eird — — 1070
P P E N D I
14 The Sky Lark Pennant. 1076
15 — Nightingale 1077
16 — RedBreaft 1078
18 — Swift 1079
19 Of the Difappearance
of Swallows — — 1080
20 Of Small Birds of
Flight Barrington. icSj.
21 ■ — Singing Birds — — - 1085
22 The Eel - Pennant, koc
23 — Perch — — 1002
24 — Trout - 1C92
25 — Pike or Jack — — • ic.94
27 — Barbel 1 cq q
2S — Tench - — — 1096
V
29 The Gudgeon Pennant.
30 — Bream —
j 1 — Crucian — — — 3; — Roach —
36 — ■ White Bait
37 — Mjnow
38 — Gold Fiih -
Chronological Table of re- markable Events, Dif- coveries, and Inven- tions — Guthrie.
Men of Learning and Ge- nius —
IC96 IC97 ic97 1097
1097 1097 1098 1098 1098 IC99
ICS9 1115
ELEGANT
E L
ANT EXTRACTS I N P R O S E.
BOOK THE FIRST. ORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
§ 1 . The Vifion of Mirza, exhibiting a Pic- ture of Human Life.
N the fifth day of the moon, which, according to the cufcom of my forefathers, I always keep holy, after having warned myfelf, and offered up my morning devotions, I afcended the high hills of Bagdat, in order to pafs the reil of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myfelf on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound con- templation on the vanity of human life ; and palling from one thought to another, Surely, faid I, man is but a fhadow, and life a dream. Whilft I was thus mufmg, I cait my eyes towards the fumrnit of a rock that was not far from me, where I difco- . vered one in the habit of a fhepherd, with a little mufical inftrument in his hand. As I looked upon him, he applied it to his lips, and began to play upon it. The found of it was exceeding iweet, and wrought into a variety of tunes that were inexpreiiibly me- lodious, and altogether different from any thing I had ever heard : they put me in mind of thofe heavenly airs that are played to the departed fouls cf good men upon their firft arrival in Paradife, to wear out the im- prefiions of the lait agonies, and qualify ' them for the pleafures cf that happy place. My heart melted away in fecret raptures.
I had been often told, that the rock be- fore me was the haunt of a genius ; and that feveral had been entertained with that mufic, who had palled by it, but never heard that the mufician had before mads himfelf vifible. When he had railed my tfieughts, by thofe tranfporting airs which
he played, to tafte the pleafures of his con verfation, as I looked upon him like one ailoniihed, he beckoned to me, and, by the waving of his hand, directed me to ap- proach the place where he fat. I drew near with that reverence which is due to a fupe- rior nature ; and as my heart was entirely fubdued by the captivating llrains I had heard, I fell down at his feet, and wept. The genius frniled upon me with a look of companion and affability that familiarized him to my imagination, and at once dis- pelled all the fears and apprehenfions with which I approached him. He lifted me from the ground, and taking me by the hand, Mirza, faid he, I have heard thee in thy foliloquies ; follow me.
He then led me to the higheft pinnacle of the rock, and placing me on the top of it, Cad: thy eyes eaftward, faid he, and teli me what thou feeft. I fee, faid I, a huge valley, and a prodigious tide of water rol- ling through it. The valley that thou feeft, faid he, is the vale of mifery ; and the tide of water that thou feeft, is part of the great tide of eternity. What is the reafon, faid I, that the tide I fee rifes out of a' thick mift at one end, and again lofes itfelf in a thick miit at the other ? What thou feeft, faid he, is that portion of eternity which is called Time, meafured out by the fun, and reaching from the beginning of the world to its consummation. Examine now, faid he, this fea, that is bounded with darknefs at both ends, and tell me what thou difco- vereil in it. I fee a bridge, faid I, Hand- ing in the midft of the tide. The bridge thou feeft, faid he, is human life ; confider it attentively. Upon a more leifurely fur- ls vev
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
vey of it, I found that it confuted of three- fcore arid ten- entire arches, with feveral broken arches, which, added to thofe that were entire, made up the number about an hundred. As I was counting the arches, the genius told me that this bridge confift- ed at flrfl of a thoufand arches; but that a great flood fwept away the reft, and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now be- held it : but tell me further, faid he, what thou difcovereft on it. I fee multitudes of people paffing over it, faid I, and a black cloud hanging on each end of it. As I looked more attentively, I faw feveral cf the palfengers dropping through the bridge into the great tide that flowed underneath it; and upon further examination, per- ceived there were innumerable trap-doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the paflengers no fooner trod upon, but they fell through them into the tide, and immediately difappeared. Thefe hidden pit-falls were fet very thick at the en- trance of the bridge, fo that throngs of people no fooner broke through the cloud, but many of them fell into them. They grew thinner towards the middle, but multiplied and lay clofer together towards the end of the arches that were entire.
There were indeed fome perfons, but their number was very fmall, that conti- nued a kind of hobbling march on the broken arches, but fell through one after another, being quite tired and fpent with lb long a walk.
I pafled fome time in the contempla- tion of this wonderful ftruifture, and the great variety of objects which it prefented. My heart was rilled with a deep melan- choly, to fee feveral dropping unexpectedly in the midfl cf mirth and jollity, and catch- ing at every thing that flood by them, to fa^e themfelves. Some were lookinf up towards the heavens in a thoughtful pof- ture, and, in the midfl of a fpeculation, flumbled and fell out of light. Multitudes were very bufy in the purfuit of bubbles, that glittered in their eyes, and danced be- fore them; but often, when they thought themfelves within the reach of them, their footing failed, and down they funk. In this cor.fuflon of objects, I obferved fome with fcimitars in their hands, and others with urinals, who ran to and fro upon the bridge, thrufting feveral perfons on trap- doors which did not feem to lie in their way, and which they might have efcaped had they not been thus forced upon them.
The genius feeing me indulge myfelf in this melancholy pfofpect, told me had dwelt long enough upon it : Take thine eyes oft" the bridge, faid he, and tell i me if thou feeft any thing thou doft not comprehend. Upon looking up, What mean, faid I, thofe great flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about the bridge, and fettling upon it from time to time? I fee vultures, harpies, ravens, cor- morants, and, among many odier feathered creatures, feveral little winged boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle arches. Thefe, faid the genius, are envy, avarice, fuperftition, deipair, love, with the like cares and paifons that infeft hu- man life.
I here fetched a deep f;gh : Alas, faid I, man was made in vain ! how is he given away to mifery and mortality ! tortured in life, and fwallowed up in death ! The genius being moved with compaflion to- wards me, bid me quit fo uncomfortable a profpect. Look no more, faid he, on man in the firft rtage of his exiflence, in his fet- ting out for eternity ; but caft thine eye on that thick mifl into which the tide bears the feveral generations of mortals diat fall into it. I directed my fight as I was or- dered, and (whether or no the good genius flrengthened it with any fupernatural force, or diflipated part of the mill that was be- fore too thick for the eye to penetrate) I faw the valley opening at the farther end, and fpreading forth into an immenfe ocean, that had a huge rock of adamant running through the midfl of it, and dividing it into two equal parts. The clouds flill refled on one half of it, infomuch that 1 could difcover nothing in it: but the other appeared to me a vafl ocean, planted with innumerable iflands, that were covered with fruits and iiowers, and interwoven with a thoufand little ftrining feas that ran among them. I could fee perfons dref- fed in glorious habits, with garlands upon their heads, pairing among the trees, lying down by the fides of fountains, or refling on beds of flowers ; and could hear a con- fufed harmony of finging birds, falling waters, human voices, and mulical inftru- ments. Gladnefs grew in me at the dis- covery of fo delightful a fcene. I wifhed for the wings of an eagle, that I might fly away to thofe happy feats ; but the ge- nius told me there was no paiTage to them, except through the gates of death that I faw opening every moment upon the bridge. The iflands. faid he, that lis
fo
BOOK L MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
fo frefh and green before thee, and with : which the whole face of the ocean appears ;fpotted as far as thou canft fee, are more tin number than the fands on the ica-fhore ; {there are myriads of iflands behind thofe which thou here difcovereft, reaching fur- ither than thine eye, or even thine iniagi- : nation, can extend itfeif. Thefe are the .maniions of good men after death, who, according to the degree and hinds of vir- tue in which they excelled, are diftributed among thefe feveral i Hands, which abound with pleafures of different kinds and de- igrees, fuitable to the reliihes and perfec- tions of thofe who are fettled in them ; every iiland is a paradife accommodated to .its respective inhabitants. Are not thefe, 'O Mirza, habitations worth contending (for? Does life appear miferable, that gives ithee opportunities of earning fuch a re- iward ? Is death to be feared, that will •convey thee to fo happy an exiftence ? Think not man was made in vain, who has fuch an eternity referved for him.-— I gazed with inexpreffible pleafure on thefe happy iflands. At length, faid I, Shew me inow, I befeech thee, the fecrets that lie hid under thofe dark clouds, which cover the ocean on the other fide of the rock of adamant. The genius making me no an- swer, I turned about to addrefs myfelf to him a fecond time, but I found that he had left me : I then turned again to the vifion which I had been fo long contemplating; but inftead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and the happy iflands, I law no- thing but the long hollow valley of Bagdat, with oxen, fheep, and camels, grazing upon the fides of it. Spectator.
§ 2. The Voyage of Life', an Allegory.
' Life,' fays Seneca, ' is a voyage, in the progrefs of which we are perpetually changing our fcenes : we Aril leave child- hood behind us, then youth, then the years of ripened manhood, then the better or more pleafing part of old age/ — The pe- rufal of this paffage having excited in me a train of reflections on the ftate of man, the inceflant fluctuation of his wifhes, the gra- dual change of his difpoiition to all external objects, and the thoughtlefsnefs with which he floats along the itream of dine, I funk into a flumber amidft my meditations, and, on a fudden, found my ears filled with the tumult of labour, the fhouts of alacrity, the fhrieks of alarm, the whittle of winds^ and the daih of waters.
My aftcnifhment for a time reprefl'ed
my curioiity ; but fcon recovering myfelf fo far as to enquire whither we were going, and what was the eaufe of fuch clamour and confuflon ; I was told that they were launching out into the ocean of Life ; that we had already palled the ftreights of In- fancy, in which multitudes had perifhed, feme by the weaknefs and fragility of their veffels, and more by the folly, perverfenefs, or negligence of thofe who undertook to fteer them ; and that we were now on the main fea, abandoned to the winds and bil- lows, without any other means of fecurity than the care of the pilot, whom it was al- ways in our power to chufe, among great numbers that offered their direction and aililtance.
I then looked round with anxious eager- nefs ; and, firft turning my eyes behind me, faw a Itream flowing through flowery iflands, which every one that failed along Teemed to behold with .pleafure ; but no fooner touched, than the current, which, though not rioify or turbulent, was yet ir- reiiftible, bore him away. Beyond thefe iflands, all was darknefs ; nor could any of the paifengers defcribe the lhore at which he firft embarked.
Before me, and on either flde was an expanfe of waters violently agitated, and covered with fo thick a mill:, that the moft perfpicacious eyes could fee but a little way. It appeared to be full of rocks and whirl- pools, for many funk unexpectedly while they were courting the gale with full fails, and infulting thole whom they had left be- hind. So numerous, indeed, were the dan- gers, and fo thick the darknefs, that no caution could confer fecurity. Yet there were many, who, by falfe intelligence, be- trayed their followers into whirlpools, or by violence pufhed thofe whom they found in their way againft the rocks.
The current was invariable and infur- mountable ; but though it was impoffible to fail againft it, or to return to the place that was once pafled, yet it was not fo violent as to allow no opportunities for dexterity or courage, fince, though none could re- treat back from danger, yet they might often avoid it by oblique direction.
It was, however, not very common to fleer with much care or prudence ; for, by fome univerfal infatuation, every man ap- peared to think himfelf fafe, though he faw his conforts every moment finking round him ; and no fooner had the waves clofed over them, than their fate and their mif- conduct were forgotten;, the voyage was JS 2 purfued
4
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE. •
purfued with the fame jocund confidence ; every man congratulated himfeif upon the foundnefs of his vefiel, and believed him- feif able to Stem the whirlpool in which his friend was fwallowed, or glide over the rocks on which he was dafhed : nor was it often obferved that the fight of a wreck made any man change his courfe ; if hg turned afide for a moment, he foon forgot the rudder, and left himfeif again to the difpofal of chance.
This negligence did not proceed from indifference, or from wearinefs of their pre' dent condition ; for not one of thole who thus rufhed upon destruction failed, when he was finking, to call loudly upon his af- foeiates for that help which could not now be given him : and many fpent their laft moments in cautioning others againft the folly by which they were intercepted in the midit of their courfe. Their benevolence was fometimes praifed, but their admoni- tions were unregarded.
The vefiels in which we had embarked, being corifefledly unequal to the turbulence of the itream of life, were vifibly impaired in the courfe of the voyage, fo that every pafTenger was certain, that how long fo- cver he might, by favourable accidents, or by inceflant vigilance, be preferved, he mufc fink at laft.
This necefllty of perilling might have been expected to fadden the gay, and in- timidate the daring, at leaft to keep the melancholy and timorous in perpetual tor- ments, and hinder them from any enjoy- ment of the varieties and gratifications which nature offered them as the folace of their labours ; yet in effect none feemed lefs to expect destruction than thofe to whom it was moil: dreadful ; they all had the art of concealing their danger from themfelves ; and thofe who knew their in- ability to bear the fight of the terrors that embarrafled their way, took care never to 'look forward, but found fome amufement ' of the prefent moment, and generally en- tertained themfelves by playing with Hope, who was the conilant aflbciate of the voy- age of'Life.
Yet all that Hope ventured to promife, civen to thofe whom fhe favoured moil, was, not that they ihould efcape, but that •they Should fink kft ; and with 'this pro- mife every one was fatisfied, though, he laughed at the reft for feeming to believe it. Hope, indeed, apparently mocked the credulity of her companions ; for, in pro- portion a." their vefiels- grew leaky, ihe
redoubled her aflurar.ces of fafety ; and fione. were more bufy in making provisions > for a long voyage, than they whom all \ but themfelves faw likely to perifii foon by irreparable decay.
In the midft of the current of Life, was the gulph of Intemperance, a dreadful whirlpool, interfperfed with rocks, of> which the pointed crags were concealed ; under water, and the tops covered with! herbage, on which Eafe Spread couches of repofe ; and with (hades, where Plea- J fure warbled the fong of invitation. With- j in fight of thefe rocks, all who failed onl the ocean of Life mult neceffarily pafs. Realbn indeed v/as always at hand to iteer the paffengers through a narrow outlet, by.a which they might efcape ; but very few i could, by her entreaties or remonftrances, ; be induced to put the rudder into her hand, without Stipulating that fhe-fhould approach] fo near unto the rocks of Pleafure, thatj thev mieht folace themfelves with a Short! enjoyment of that delicious region, arcer] which they always determined to puriue their courfe without any other deviation. I
Reafon was too often prevailed upon fo far by thefe promifes, as to venture her] charge within the eddy of the gulph of In-j temperance, where, indeed, the circmruo-j lution was weak, but yet interrupted the J courfe of the veiiel, and drew it, by in fen- > fible rotations, towards the centre. She] then repented her temerity, and with alii her force endeavoured to retreat ; but the! draught of the gulph was generally tool Strong to be overcome ; and the pauengerJ having danced in circles with a pleafingi and giddy velocity, was at laft overwhelm-! ed and loit. Thofe few whom P.eafon was;, able to extricate, generally Suffered fo many (hocks upon the points which fhotj out from the rocks of Pleafure, that thejn were unable to continue their courfe with^ the fame Strength and facility as before,, but floated along timoroufiy and feebly, endangered by every breeze, and Shattered;; by everv ruffle of the water, till they funk,;' by flow degrees, after long Struggles, anffl innumerable expedients, always repining at their own folly, and warding others againft the firit approach of the gulph of Intem- perance.
There were artiits who profefied to re- pair the breaches and Stop the leaks of the vcffels which had been Shattered on the rocks of Pleafure. Many appeared to have great onfidence in their Skill, and -fome,. nde-ed, were preferved by it from z finking*
BOOK I. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
finking, who had received only a fmgle blow ; but I remarked, that few veflels kited long which had been much repaired, nor was it found that the artifts themfelves continued afloat longer than thofe who had leaft of their aflirtance.
The only advantage whxh> in the voyage of Life, the cautious had above the neg- ligent, was, that they funk later, and more fuddenly; for they parted forward till they had fometimes feen all thofe in whofe com- pany they had ifi'ued from the ftreights of Infancy, perifh in the way, and at laft were overfet by a crofs b.eeze, without the toil of refiftance, or the anguifh of ex- pectation. But fuch as had often fallen againft the rocks of Pieafure, commonly ftibfided by feniibie degrees, contended long with the encroaching waters, and harafled themfelves by labours that fcarce Hope herfelf could flatter with -fuccefs. • As I was looking upon the various fate of the multitude about me, i was fuddenly alarmed with an admonition from fome unknown power, * Gaze not idiy upon others when thou thyfelf art linking. Whence is this thoughtlefs tranquillity, when thou and they are equally endan- gered ?' I looked, and feeing the gulph of Intemperance before me, ftarted and awaked. Rambler.
§ 3. "The Journey of a Day, a Piilure of Hujna/i Life; the Story of Obidab.
Obidah, the fon of Abenfina, left die earavanfera early in the morning, and pur- sued his journey through the plains of In- dolhn. He was frefh and vigorous with reft ; he was animated with hope ; he was incited by defire ; he walked fwiftly for- ward over the vailies, and faw the hills gradually rifing before him. As he parted along, his ears were delighted with the morning fong of the bird of paradife, lie was fanned by the laft flutters of the fink- ing breeze, and fprinkled with dew by groves of fpices ; he fometimes contem- plated the towering height of the oak, mo- narch of the hills ; and fometimes caught the gentle fragrance of the primrole, eldeft daughter of the fpring : all his fenfes were gratified, and all care was banifhed from the heart.
Thus he went on till the fun approached his meridian, and the increaling heat prey- ed upon his ftrength; he then looked round about him for fome more commo- dious path. He faw, on his right hand, a grove that feemed to wave its fhades as
a ftgn of invitation ; he entered it,, and found the coolnefs and verdure in-efrftibby pleafant. • He did not however,^ forget whither he was travelling, but fouuG. a narrow way bordered with hewers, v i . appeared to have the fame direction with the main read, and was pleafed that, by this happy experiment, he had found me: s to unite pieafure with bufinefs, and to gain the rewards of diligence, without fufteri ig its fatigues. He, therefore, ftill continued to walk for a time, without the leaft re- mirtion of his ardour, except t;:at he ^ was fometimes tempted to ftop by the murtc of the birds, whom the heat had aftembled in the fhade, and fometimes amufed mmlelf with plucking the flowers that covered thy banks on either fide, or the fiuits that hung upon the brancnes. At laft the green path began to decline from its hrft ten- dency, and to wind among hills and thick- ets, cooled with fountains, and murmur- ing with water-fails. Here Obiddh paufed for a time, and began to conftder whether it were longer fate to forfake the known and common track ; but remembering that the heat was now in its greateft violence, and that the plain was dufty and uneven, he refolved to purfue the new path, which he fuppofed only to make a few meanders, in compliance with the varieties of the ground, and to end at laft in the common road.
Having thus calmed his iblicitude, he renewed his pace, though he fuipected that he was not gaining ground. This uneafi- nefs of his mind inclined him to lay hold on every new objeft, and give way to every fenfation that might footh or divert him. He liftened to every echo, he mount- ed every hill for a frefh profpecd, he turn- ed afide to every cafcade, and pleafed him- felf with tracing the courie of a gentle ri- ver that rolled among the trees, and wa- tered a large region with innumerable cir- cumvolutions. In thefe amufements die hours patted away uncounted, his devia- tions had perplexed his memory, and he knew not towards what point to travel. He ftood penfive and cenfufed, afraid to go forward left he fhould go wrong, yet confeious that the time of loite.ing was now part. Whi.e he was thus tortuixd with uncertainty, the fky was overiprcad vyidi clouds, the day vanifhed from before him, and a fudden 'tempeft gathered round hi* head. He was. now 'routed by his danger, to a quick and painful remembrance of his. folly; he now faw hew happinefs is loft, when eafe is coniulted.j he lamented the ]3 , unmanly
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
unmanly impatience that prompted him to feek fhelter in the grove, and defpifed the petty curio fity that led him on from trifle to trifle. While he was thus reflecting, the air grew blacker, and a clap of thunder broke his meditation.
He now refolved to do what remained' yet in his power ; to tread back the ground which he had pafted, and try to find fome iffue where the wood might open into the plain. He proftrated himfelf on the ground, and commended his life to the Lord of nature. He rofe with confidence and tran- quillity, and prefled on with his fabre in Jus hand, for the hearts cf the defert were in motion, and on every hand were heard the mingled howls of rage and fear, and ra- vage and expiration ; all the horrors of darknefs and folitude furrounded him; the winds roared in the woods, and the torrents tumbled from the hills. Work'd into fudden rage by wint'ry fhow'rs, Down the fteep hill ths roaring torrent pours ; The mountain fhepherd hears the diftant noife.
Thus forlorn and diftrefTed, he wander- ed through the wild, without knowing whither he was going, or whether he was every moment drawing nearer to fafety or to deftrudlion. At length, not fear, but labour, began to overcome him; his breath grew fhort, and his knees trembled, and he was on the point of lying down in re- fignation to his fate, when he beheld through the brambles the glimmer of a taper. He advanced towards the light, and finding that it proceeded from "the cottage of a hermit, he called humbly at the door, and obtained admifiion. The old man fet before him fuch proviiions as he had collected for himfelf, on which Obidah fed with eagernefs and gratitude.
When the repaft was over, < Tell me,' faid the hermit, ' by what chance thou hall been brought hither; T have been now twenty years an inhabitant of the vvilder- nefs, in which I never faw a man before.' Obidah then related the occurrences of his journey, without any concealment or pal- liation.
' Son,' faid the hermit, ' let the errors and follies, the dangers and efcape of this day, fink deep into thy heart. Remem- ber, my fon, that human life is the jour- ney of a day. We rife in the morning of youth, full of vigour, and full of expecta- tion ; we fet forward with fpirit and hope, with gaiety and with diligence, and travel on a while in the ftrait road bf piety towards the mamions of reft. la a fhort time we
remit our fervour, and endeavour to find fome mitigation of our duty, and fome more eafy means of obtaining the fame end. We then relax our vigour, and re- folve no longer to be terrified with crimes- at a diltance, but rely upon our own con- ftancy, and venture to approach what we refolve never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of eafe, and repofe in the fhades of fecurity. Here the heart foftens, and vigilance fflbfides ; we are then willing to enquire whether another advance cannot be made, and whether we may not, at leaft, turn our eyes upon the gardens of pleafure. We approach them with fcruple and hefitation ; we enter them, but enter timorous and trembling, and always hope to pafs through them without loiing the read cf virtue, which we, for a while, keep in our fight, and to which we propofe to return. But temptation fucceeds tempta- tion, and one compliance prepares us for another ; we in time lofe the happinefs of innocence, and folace our difquiet with feniual gratifications. Ey degrees we let fall the remembrance of our original in- tention, and quit the only adequate object, cf rational defire. We entangle ourfelves in bufnefs, immerge ourfelves in luxury, and rove through the labyrinths of incon- ftancy, till the darknefs of old age begins to invade us, and diieafe and anxiety ob- ftruft our way. We then look back upon our lives with horror, with forrow, with repentance ; and wifh, but too often vainly wifh, that we had not forfaken the ways of virtue. Happy are they, my fon, who fhall kam from thy example not to defpair, but ihall remember, that though the day is paft, and their ftrength is wafted, there yet remains one effort to be made; that re- formation is never hopelefs, nor fincere en- deavours ever unaffifted ; that the wanderer may at length return, after all his errors ; and that he who implores ftrength and cou- rage from above, fhall find danger and difficulty give way before him. Go now, my fon., to thy repofe ; commit thyfelf to the care of Omnipotence; and when the morning calls again to toil, begin anew thy journey and thy life.' Rathhler*
§ 4. The prefent Life to he conjidered only as it may conduce to the Happinefs cf a future one.
A lewd young fellow feeing an aged her- mit go by him barefoot, "Father,'" fays he, « you are in a very miferable condiffi?n. if there is not another world." " True,
fon,"
BOCK I. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
ion," faid the hermit: " but what is thy condition if there is ?'■ — Man* is a creature defigned for two different ftates of being, or rather, for two diiferent lives. His firit life is fhort and tranhent ; his fecond, per- manent and Jailing. The queftion we are all concerned in is this, In which of thofe two lives is it our chief intereft to make ourfelves happy ? or, in other words, whe- ther we mould endeavour to fecure to our- felves the pleafures and gratifications of a life which is uncertain and precarious, and, at its utmoft length, of a very inconsider- able duration; or to fecure to ourfelves the pleafures of a life that is fixed and fettled, and will never end ? Every man, upon the firit hearing of this queftion, knows very well which iide of it he oughc to clofc with. But however right we are in theory, it is plain that, in practice, we adhere to the wrong fide of the queftion. We make pro- vifions for this life, as though it were never to have an end ; and for the other life, as though it were never to have a beginning.
Should a fpirit of fuperior rank, who is a ftranger to human nature, accidentally alight upon the earth, and take a furvcy of its inhabitants, what would his notions of us be ? Would not he think, that we are a fpecies of beings made for quite different ends and purpofes than what we really are ? Mult not he imagine that we were placed in this world to get riches and honours ? Would not he think that it was our duty to toil after wealth, and ltation, and title ? Nay, would not he believe we were for- bidden poverty by threats of eternal pu- niihment, and enjoined to purfue our plea- fures under pain of damnation ? He would certainly imagine, that we were, influenced by a fcheme of duties quite oppofite to thofe which are indeed preferibed to us. And truly, according to fuch an imagina- tion, he mult conclude that we are a fpecies of the molt obedient creatures in the uni- verfe ; that we are confhnt to our duty ; and that we keep a iteady eye on the end for which we were fent hither.
But how great would be his aftonifh- ment, when he learnt that we were beings not defigned to exift in this world above threefcore and ten years ; and that the greatelt part of this bufy fpecies fall fhort even of that age ! How would he be loft in horror and admiration, when he lhould know that this fet of creatures, who lay out all their endeavours for this life, which fcarce deferves the name of exiftence ; when, I fay, he fhould know thai this fet
of creatures are to exift to all eternity in another life, for which they make no pre- parations ? Nothing can be a greater dif- grace to reafon, than that men, who are perfuaded of thefe two different ftates of being, fhould be perpetually employed in providing for a life of threefcore and ten years, and neglediing to make provifion- for that which, after many myriads of years, will be ftill new, and ftill beginning ; efpccially when we confider that our en- deavours for making ourfelves great, or rich, or honourable, or whatever elfe we place our happinefs in, may, after all, prove unfuccelsful; whereas, if we conftantly and fmcerely endeavour to make ourfelves hap- py in die other life, we are fure that our endeavours will fucceed, and that we fhall . not be difappointed cf our hope.
The following queftion is ttarted by one of the fchoolmen. Suppofing the whole body of the earth were a great ball or mafs of the fineft fand, and that a fmgle grain or particle of this fand fhould be annihila- ted every thoufand years : Suppofing then that you had it in your choice to be happy all the while this prodigious mafs of fand was confuming by this flow method till there was not a grain of it left, on condi- tion you were to be miferable for ever after ; or fuppofing you might be happy for ever after, on condition you would be miferable till the whole mafs of fand were thus anni- hilated, at the rate of one fand in a thou- fand years : which of thefe two cafes would you make your choice ?
It muft be confefled in this cafe, fo many thoufands of years are to the imagination as a kind of eternity, though in reality they do not bear fo great a proportion to that duration which is to follow them, as an unit does to the greateft number which you can put together in figures, or as one of thofe lands to the fuppofed heap. Rea- fon therefore tells us, without any manner of hefitation, which would be the better part in this choice. However, as I have before intimated, our reafon might in fuch a cafe be fo overfet by the imagination, as to difpofe fome perfons to fink under the confideration of the great length of the firft part of this duration, and of the great diftance of that fecond duration which is to fucceed it. The mind, I fay, might give itfelf up to that happinefs which is at hand, confidering that it is fo very near, and that it would laft fo very long. But when the choice we actually have before US is this, whether we will chufe to be B 4. happy
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE,
happy for the fpace of only threefcore and ten years, nay, perhaps, of only twenty or ten years, I might fay, of only a day or an hour, and miferable to all eternity; or, on the contrary, miferable for this fhort term of years, and happy for a whole eternity ; what words are fufficient to ex- prefs that folly and want of conhderation which in fuch a cafe makes a wrong choice !
I here put the cafe, even at the worft, by fuppofmg (what feldom happens) that a courie of virtue makes us miferable in tins life ; but if we fuppofe (as it gene- rally happens) that virtue will make us more happy, even in this life, than a con- trary courfe of vice ; how can we fufhcient- ly admire the ftupidity or madnefs of thole perfo':s who are capable of making fo ab- iurd a choice !
Every wife man, therefore, will confider this life only as it may conduce to the hap- pinefs of the other, and chearfully facrifice the pleafures of a few years to thofe of an eternity. SpeJIator.
§ 5 . The Advantages of a good Education.
I confider an human foul without edu- cation like marble in the quarry, which ihews none of its inherent beauties, until the fkil} of the poliiher fetches out the co- lours, makes the furface ihine, and difco- vers every ornamental cloud, lpot, and vein, that runs through the body of it. Educa- tion, after the fame manner, when it works upon a noble mind, draws out to view every latent virtue and perfection, which, with- out fuch helps, are never able to make their appearance.
If my reader will give me leave to change the ajlufion fo foon upon him, I fhall make life of the fame inflance to il- lustrate the force of education, which Arif- totle has brought to explain his doctrine of fubftantial forms, when he tells us that a itatue lies hid in a block of marble ; and that the art of the ftatuary only clears away the fuperfluous matter, and removes the rubbifh. The figure is in the Hone, and the fculptor only'' rinds it. What fculp- ture is to a block of marble, education is to an human foul. The philofopher, the faint, or the hero, the wiie, the good, or the great man, very often lie hid and con- cealed in a plebeian, which a proper edu- cation might have dif-interred, and have brought to light. I am therefore much delighted witnr. adiig the. accounts of fa- vage natior.s, and wiu contemplating thofe
virtues which are wild and uncultivated ; to fee courage exerting itfelf in fiercenefs, refolution in obflinacy, wifdom in cunning, patience in fullennefs and defpair.
Men's paflions operate variously, and appear in different kinds of anions, ac- cording as they are more or lefs rectified and fwayed by reafon. When one hears of negroes, who upon the death of their maf- ters, or upon changing their fervice, hang themfelves upon the next tree, as it fre- quently happens in our American planta- tions, who can forbear admiring their fide- lity, though it expreffes itfelf in fo dread- ful a manner ? What might not that fa- vage greatnefs of foul, which appears in thefe poor wretches on many occalions, be raifed to, were it rightly cultivated ? And what colour of excufe can there be for the contempt with which we treat this part of ourfpecies; that we mould not put them upon the common foot of humanity ; that we Should only fet an iniignificant fine up- on the man who murders them ; nay, that we mould, as much as in us lies, cut them off from the profpects of happinefs in ano- ther world, as well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon as the pro- per means for attaining it !
It is therefore an unfpeakable bleffing to be born in thofe parts of the world where wifdom and knowledge flourilh ; though it mull be confeffed there are, even in tiide parts, feveral poor uninftructed perfons, who are but little above the inha- bitants of thofe nations of which I have been here {peaking ; as thofe who have had the advantages of a more libera! edu- cation, rife above one another by feveral different degrees of perfection. For, to return to our ftatue in the block of marble, we fee it fome times only begun to be chipped, fometimes rough-hewn, and but jull Sketched into an human figure; fome- times we fee the man appearing distinctly in all his limbs and features : fometimes we find the figure wrought up to great ele- gancy ; but feldom meet with any to which the hand of a Phidias or a Praxiteles could rot give feveral nice touches and finifhings. Spectator.
§ 6. The Difadu ant ages of a had Educa- tion. Sir, I was condemned by fome difaf- trous influence to be an only ion, born to the apparent proipect of a large fortune, and allotted to my parents at that time of life when fatiety of common diversions al«,
lows
BOOK I. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
lows the mind to indulge parental affec- tion with greater intenfenefs. My birth was celebrated by the tenants with feaits, and dances, and bagpipes ; congratulations were Tent fom every family within ten miles round ; and my parents difco vered, in my firft cries, fuch tokens of future virtue and underftanding, that they decla- red themfelves determined to devote the remaining part of life to my happinefs and the encreafe of their eftate.
The abilities of my father and mother were not perceptibly unequal, and educa- tion had given neither much advantage over the other. Tney had both kept good company, rattled in chariots, glittered in playhoufes, and danced at court, ana were botn expert in the games that were in their times called in as auxiliaries againft the intrufion of thought.
When there is fuch a parity between two perfons affociated fo" life, the dejec- tion which the hufband, if he be not com- pletely llupid, muft always fuffer for want of luperiority, finks him to fubmiflivenefs. My mamma therefore governed the family without controul ; and, except that my fa- ther {till retained fome authority in the ftables, and now and then, after a fuper- numerary bottle, broke a looking-glafs or china-dim to prove his fovereignty, the whole courfe of the year vyas regulated by her direction, the fervants received from her all their orders, and the tenants were continued or difmiiled at her difcretion.
She therefore thought herfelf entitled to the fuperintendance of her fon's education ; and when my father, at the inftigation of the parfon, faintly propofed that I mould be fent to fchool, very pofitively told him, that lhe would not fuffer a fine child to be ruined ; that lhe never knew any boys at a graramar-fchool, that could come into a room without blufhing, or fit at the table without fome aukward 'uneafinefs ; that they were always putting themfelves into danger by boifterous plays, or vitiat- ing their behaviour with mean company ; and that, for her part, lhe would rather follow me to the grave, than fee me tear my cloaths, and hang down my head, and fneak about with dirty fhoes and blotted fingers, my hair unpowdered, and my hat uncocked.
My father, who had no other end in his propoial than to appear wife and manly, fpon acquiefced, fince I was not to live by my learning; for indeed, he had known very few Undents that had not feme iliff-
nefs in their manner. They therefore agreed,' that a domeffic tutor mould be procured ; and hired an honeft gentleman of mean converfation and narrow fend- ments, but whom having palled the com- mon forms of literary education, they im- plicitly concluded qualified to teach all that was to be learned from a fcholar. He thought bimfelf fufficiently exalted by being placed at the fame table with his pupil, and had no other view than to per- petuate his felicity by the utmoft flexibility of iubmiflion to all my mother's opinions and caprices. He frequently took away my book, left I mould mope with too much application, charged me never to write without turning up my raffles, and gene- rally brufhed my coat before he difmiffed me into the parlour.
He had no occafion to complain of to» burthenfome an employment ; for my mo- ther very judiciouily confidered, that I v/as not likely to grow politer in his com- pany, and fuffered me not to pafs any mere time in his apartment than my leflbn required. When I was fummoned to my tafk, lhe enjoined me not to get any of my tutor's ways, who was feldom mentioned before me but for practices to be avoided. I was every moment admonilhed not to lean on my chair, crofs my legs, or fwing my hands like my tutor ; and once my mother very feriouily deliberated upon his total difmiiiion, becaufe I began, lhe faid, to learn his manner of flicking on my hat, and had his bend in my Ihoulders, and his totter in my gait.
Such, however, was her care, that I efcaped all thefe depravities ; and when I was only twelve years old, had rid myfelf of every appearance of childifh diffidence. I was celebrated round the country for the petulance of my remarks, and the quick- nefs of my replies ; and many a fcholar five years older than myfelf, have I dafh- ed into confufion by the fteadinefs of my countenance, filenced by my readinefs of repartee, and tortured with envy by the addrefs with which I picked up a fan, pre- fented a fnuff-box, or received an empty tea-cup.
At fourteen I was compleatly flailed in all the niceties of drefs, and I could not only enumerate all the variety of filks, and diltinguiih the product of # French loom, but dart my eye through a numerous company, and obierve ev.iry deviation from the reigning mode. I was univerfally fkilful in ail tiie changes of
expenuVe
IO
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
expenfive finery ; but as every one, they fay, has fomething to which he is parti- cularly born, was eminently knowing in Brufiels lace.
The next year faw me advanced to the iruft and power of adjufting the ceremo- nial of an affembly. All received their partners from my hand, and to me every ftranger applied for introduction. My heart now diidained the inftruftions of a tutor; wlio was rewarded with a fmali an- nuity for life, and left me qualified, in my own opinion, to govern myfelf.
In a fhort time I came to London, and as my father was well known among the higher clafies of life, foon obtained ad- miffion to the moll fplendid aiTemblies, and moft crowded card-tables. Here I found myfelf univerfally carefled and ap- plauded ; the ladies praifed the fancy of my clothes, the beauty of my form, and the foftnefs of my voice ; endeavoured in every place to force themfelves to my no- tice; and invited, by a thoufand oblique folicitations, my attendance to the play- houfe, and my ialutations in the Park. I was now happy to the utmoft extent of my conception ; I palled every morning in drefs, every afternoon in vifits, and every night in fome felecT: afiemblies, where neither care nor knowledge were fuftered to moleft us.
After a few years, however, thefe de- lights became familiar, and I had leifure to look round me with more attention. I then found that my flatteiers had very little power to relieve the languor of fatiety, or recreate wearinefs, by varied amufernent; and therefore endeavoured to enlarge the fphere of my pleafures, and to try what /atisfaclion might be found in the fociety of men. I will not deny the mortification with which I perceived that every man whole name J had heard mentioned with refpecL received me with a kind of ten- derneis nearly bordering on compafhon ; and that thofe whofe reputation was not well eftablilhed, thought it neceflary to juftify their underftandings, by treating me with contempt. One of thefe witlings elevated his creft, by afking me in a full coffee-houfe the price of patches: and ano- ther whifperedjthat he wondered Mil's Frifk did not keep me that afternoon to watch her ffjidrrel.
Wnen I found myfelf thus hunted from all mafeuline converfation by thofe who were themfelves barely admitted, I return- ed to the ladies, and refcived to dedicate
my life to their fervice and their pleafure." But J find that I have now loft my charms. Of thofe with whom I entered the gay world, fome are married, fome have re- tired, and fome have fo much changed their opinion, that they fcarcely pay any regard to my civilities, if there is any other man in the place. The new flight of beau- tics, to whom I have made my addreffes, fuffer me to pay the treat, and then titter with boys. So that I now find myfelf wel- come only to a few grave ladies, who, un- acquainted with all that gives either ufe or dignity to life, are content to pafs their hours between their bed and their cards, without eftcem from the old, or reverence from the young.
1 cannot but think, Mr. Rambler, that I have reafon to complain ; for furely the females ought to pay fome regard to the age of him whofe youth was pafied in en- deavours to pleafe them. They that en- courage folly in the boy, have no right to punifh it in the man. Yet I find, that though they laviih their frit fondnefs upon pertnefs and gaiety, they foon transfer their regard to other qualities, and ungratefully abandon their adorers to dream out their lait years in ftupidity and contempt.
I am, Sec. Florentulus, Rambler,
§ 7. OmnifcienfC and Omniprefence cf the Deity, together with the bnmenjity cf his Works. I was yefterday, about fun-fet, walking in the open fields, till the night infenfibly fell upon me. I at frit, amufed myfelf with all the richnefs and variety of colours which appeared in the wefcern parts of heaven : in proportion as they faded away and went out, feveral ftars and planets appeared one after another, till the whole firmament was in a glow. The bluenefs of the aether was exceedingly heightened and enlivened by the feafon of the year, and the rays of all thofe luminaries that palled through it. The galaxy appeared in its moft beautiful white. To complete the fcene, the full moon rofe at length in that clouded majefty which Milton takes notice cf. and opened to the eye a new picture of nature, which was more finely {haded, and difpofed among fofter lights, than that which the fun had before difco- vered to us.
As I was furveying the moon walking in her brightnefs, and taking her progrefs among the conftellations, a thought arofe
in
BOOK I. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
in me, which I believe very often perplexes and difturbs men of ferious and contem- plative natures. David himfelf fell into it in that reflexion, ' When I ccnfider the
* heavens the work of thy fingers, the moon ' and the ftars which thou haft ordained,
* what is man that thou art mindful of ' him, and the fon of man that thou re- ' gardeft him !' In the fame manner, when I confider that infinite hoft of ftars, or, to fpeak more philofophically, of funs, which were then mining upon me, with thofe innumerable fetsof planets or worlds, which were moving round their refpective funs ; when I ftill enlarged the idea, and fuppofed another heaven of funs and worlds rifmg ftill above this which we difcovered, and thefe ftill enlightened by a fuperior firmamcrt of luminaries, which are planted at {o great a diftance, that they may ap- pear to the inhabitants of the former as the ftars do to us ; in fhort, while I pur- fued this thought, I could not but reflect on that little infignificant figure which I myfelf bore amidft the immenfity of God's works.
Were the fun, which enlightens this part of the creation, with all the hoft of planetary worlds that move about him, ut- terly extinguiihed and annihilated, they would not be miffed, more than a grain of fand upon the fea-fhore. The fpace they poffefs is fo exceedingly little in com- parifon of the whole, it would fcarce make a blank in the creation. The chafm would be imperceptible to an eye, that could take in the whole compafs of nature, and pafs from one end of the creation to the other : as it is poffible there may be fuch a fenfe in ourfelves hereafter, or in creatures which are at prefent more exalted than ourfelves. We fee many ftars by the help of glaffes, which we do not difcover with cur naked eyes ; and the finer our telefcopes are, the more ftill are our difcoveries. Huygenius carries this thought fo far, that he does not think it impoflible there may be ftars whofe light is not yet travelled down to us fince their firft creation. There is no queftion but the univerfe has certain bounds fet to it; but when we confider that it is the work of infinite power, prompted by infinite goodnefs, with an in- finite^ fpace to exert itfelf in, how can our imagination fet any bounds to it ?
To return, therefore, to my firft thought, I could not but look upon myfelf with fe- cret horror, as a being that was not worth the fmalleft regard of one who had fo great a work under ids care and fuperinten-
II
dency. I was afraid of being overlooked amidft the immenfity of nature, and loft among that infinite variety of creatures, which in all probability fwarm through all thefe immeafurable regions of matter.
In order to recover myfelf from this mortifying thought, I confidered that it took its rife from thofe narrow conceptions, which we are apt to entertain of the di- vine nature. We ourfelves cannot attend to many different objects at the fame time. If we are careful to infpeft fome things, we muft of courfe neglect others. This imperfection which we obferve in ourfelves, is an imperfection that cleaves in fome de- gree to creatures of the higheft capacities, as they are creatures, that is, beings of finite and limited natures. The prefence of every created being is confined to a certain meafure of fpace^ and confequent- ly his obfervation is ftinted to a certain number of objects. The fphere in which we move, and act, and underftand, is of a wider circumference to one creature than another, according as we rife one above another in the fcale of exiftence. But the wideft of thefe our fpheres has its circumference. When therefore we reflect on the divine nature, we are fo ufed and accuftomed to this imperfection in our- felves, that we cannot forbear in fome mea- fure afcribing it to him in whom there is no fhadow of imperfection. Our reafon indeed affures us, that his attributes are infinite : but the poornefs of our concep- tions is fuch, that it cannot forbear letting bounds to every thing it contemplates, till our reafon comes again to our fuccour, and throws down all thofe little prejudices which rife in us unawares, and are natural to the mind of man.
We fhall therefore utterly extinguifh this melancholy thought, of our being over- looked by our Maker in the multiplicity of his works, and the infinity of thofe ob- jects among which he feems to be incef- fantly employed, if we confider, in the firft place, that he is omniprefent ; and in the fecond, that he is omnifcient.
If we confider him in his omniprefence : his being paffes through, actuates, and fup- ports the whole frame of nature. His crea- tion, and every part of it, is full of him. There is nothing he has made, that is either fo diftant, fo little, or fo inconfider- able, which he does not eflentially inhabit. His fubftance is within the fubftance of every being, whether material or immate- rial, and as intimately prefent to it, as that being is to itfelf. It would be an imper- fection
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
fection in him, were he able to move out of one place into another, or to draw him- ielffirom anything he has created, or from any part of that fpace which he diftufed and Spread abroad to infinity. In fhort, to fpeak of him in the language of die old philofophers, he is a being whofe centre is every where, and his circumference no where.
In the fecond place, he is omnifcient as well as omniprefent. His omnifcience in- deed necefiarily and naturally flows from his omniprefence. He cannot but be con- scious of every motion that arifes in the whole material world, which he thus eflen- tially pervades ; and of every thought that is furring in the intellectual world, to every part of which he is thus intimately united. Several moralists have confidered the crea- tion as the temple of God, which he has built with his own hands, and which is filled with his prefence. Others have confider- ed infinite fpace as the receptacle, or ra- ther the habitation of the Almighty : hut the nobleft and moll exalted way of consi- dering this infinite fpace, is that of Sir Iiaac Newton, who calls it the fenjbrium of the Godhead. Brutes and men have their Jen- foriola, or little fenforiums, by which they apprehend the prefence and perceive the actions of a few objects, that lie contiguous to them. Their knowledge and observa- tion turn within a very narrow circle. But as God Almighty cannot but perceive and know every thing in which he reiides, infi- nite fpace gives room to infinite knowledge, and is, as it were, an organ to omniSci- ence.
Were the foul feparate from the bodv, and with one glance of thought mould ftart beyond the bounds of the creation, Should it for million:, of years continue its progrefs through infinite fpace with the fame activity, it would ftill find itfelf within the embrace of its Creator, and encom- pafibd round with the immenfity of the Godhead. While we are in the body he is not lefs prefent with us, becaufe he is' concealed from us. ' Oh that I knew where ' I might find him ! (fays Job.) Behold ' I co forward, but he is not there ; and •backward, but I cannot perceive him: ' on the left hand, where he does work,
• but I cannot beheld him : he hideth him-
• fclf on the right hand that I cannot fee
• him.' In fhort, reafon as well as reve- lation, allures us, that he cannot be abfent from us, notwithstanding he is undifcover- td by us.
In this confideration of God Almighty's omniprefence and omnifcience, every un- comfortable thought vanishes. He cannot but regard every thing that has being, ef- pecially fuch of his creatures who fear they are not regarded by him. He is privy to all their thoughts, and to that anxiety of heart in particular, which is apt to trouble them on this occafion; for, as it is iiripoffi- blc he mould overlook any of his crea- tures ; fo we may be confident that he re- gards, with an eve of mercy, thofe who endeavour to recommend themfelves to his notice, and in unfeigned humility of heart think themfelves unworthy that he Should be mindful of them. Spectator.
§ S. Motives to Piety and Virtue, drawn from the Omnifcience and Omniprefence of the Deity.
In one of your late papers, you had oc- cafion to confider the ubiquity of the God- head, and at the fame time to (hew, that as he is prefent to every thing, he cannot but be attentive to every tiling, and privy to all the modes and parts of its exiflence : or, in other words, that his omnifcience and omniprefence are co-exiftent, and run to- gether through the whole infinitude of Space. This confideration might furnilh us with many incentives to devotion, and motives to morality; but as this fubjedl has been handled by feveral excellent wri- ters, I (hall confider it in a light in which I have not feen it placed by others.
Firft, How difconfolate is the condition of an intellectual being, who is thus prefent with his Maker, but at the fame time re- ceives no extraordinary benefit or advan- tage from this his prefence !
Secondly, How deplorable is the condi- tion of an 'intellectual being, who feels no other effects from this his prefence, but fuch as proceed from divine wrath and in- dignation !
"Thirdly, How happy is the condition of that intellectual being, who is fenfible of his Maker's prefence from the fecret effects of his mercy and loving -kind- nefs !
Firft, How difconfolate is the condition of an intellectual being, who is thus pre- fent with his Maker, but at the fame time receives no extraordinary benefit or advan- tage from this his prefence! Every^ par- ticle of matter is actuated by this Almighty Being widen pafi'es through it. The hea- vens" and the eaith, the ftars and planets, move and gravitate by virtue of this great
princi; '
BOOK ■ I.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
1$
principle within them. All the dead parts of nature are invigorated by the pretence of their Creator, and made capable of exerting their refpective qualities. The feveral inftincts, in the brute creation, do likewife operate and work towards the' fe- veral ends which are agreeable to them, by this divine energy. Man only, who does not co-operate with his holy fpirit., and is unattentive to his prefence, receives jione of thefe advantages from it, which are perfective of his nature, and ncceffary to his well-being. The divinity is with him, and in him, and every where about him, but of no advantage to him. It is the feme thing to a man without religion, as if there were no God in the world. It is indeed hnpoflible for an iniinite Being to remove himfclf from any of his creatures ; •but though he cannot withdraw his eiTence from us, which would argue an imperfec- tion in him, he can withdraw from us all the joys and confolations of it. His pre- fence may perhaps be neceffary to fupport us in our exigence ; but he may leave this our exigence to itfelf, with regard to its happinefs or mifery. For, in this {eni'e, he may cait us away from, his prefence, and take his holy fpirit from us. This fingle conhderaiion one would think fufficient to make us open our iiearts to all thofe infu- fiGns of joy and gladnefs which are fo near at hand, and ready to be poured in upon us ; efpecially when we conhder, Second- ly, the deplorable condition of an intellec- tual being, who feels no other effects from his Maker's prefence, but fuch as proceed from divine wrath and indignation !
We may allure curfelves, that the great Author of nature will not always be as one who is indifferent to any of his creatures. Thofe who will not feel him in his love, will be fure at length to feel him in his difpleafure. And how dreadful is the con- dition of that creature, who is only fenfible of the being of his Creator by what he ■fuffers from him ! He is as effentially pre- fent in hell as in heaven ; but the inhabi- tants of thofe accurfed places behold him only in his wrath, and ftirink within the flames to conceal themielves from him. •It is not in the power of imagination to conceive the fearful effects of Omnipo- tence incenfed.
But I mail only confidar the wretched- Hefs of an intellectual being, who, in this life, lies under the difpleafure of him, that at all times, and in all places, is intimately united with him. He is able to dHquiet
the foul, and vex it in all its faculti--',- He can hinder any of the greateft comforts of life from refreshing us, and give an edge to every one of its flightelt calamities. Who then can bear the thought of being an out-cart from his prefence, that is, from the comforts of it, or of feeling it only in its terrors ? How pathetic is that expoituT lation of Job, when for the real trial of hi* patience, he was made to look upon him- felf in this deplorable condition ! « Why ' haft thou fet me as a mark againft thee, • fo that I am become a burden to my- ' felf ?' But, thirdly, how happy is the condition of that intellectual being, who i* fenfible of his Maker's prefence from th* fecret effects of his rnercy and loving- kindnefs !
The bleffed in heaven behold him face to face, that is, are as fenfible of his pre- fence as we are of the prefence of any per* fon whom we look upon with our eyes. There is doubtlefs a faculty in fpirits, by which they apprehend one another, as our fenfes do material objects ; and there is ho queftion but our fouls, when they are dif- embodied, or placed in glorified bodies, will by this faculty, in whatever part of fpace they refide, be always fenfible of the di- vine prefence. We, who have this veil of fiefh Sanding between us and the world of fpirits, mult be content to know the fpirit of God is prefent with us by die effects which he produceth in us. Our outwar4 fenfes are too grofs to apprehend him ; we may however tafte ajjd fee how gracious he- is, by his influence upon our miads, .by thofe virtuous thoughts which he awakens in us, by thofe fecret comforts and refreih- ments which he conveys into our fouls., and by thofe ravifhing joys and inward fatis- ficlions which are perpetually fpringing up, and diffufmg themfelves among all ths thoughts of good men. .He is lodged in our very effence, and is as a foul within the foul, to irradiate its underftanding, rec- tify its will, purify its paffions, and enliven all the powers of man. How happy there- fore is an intebeflual being, who by prayer and meditation, by virtue and good works, opens this communication between God and his own foul ! Though-the whole crea- tion frowns upon him, and all Mature looks black about him, he has his light and fup- port within him, that are able to c! e-er his mind, and bear him up in the midft of all thofe horrors which encamp lis Lim, He knows that his helper is at hand,.,and is always nearer to ivim than, any thing elfe
can
H
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
can br, which is capable of annoying or terrifying him. In the midft of calumny or contempt, he attends to that Being who whifpers better things within his foul, and whom he looks upon as his defender, his glory, and the lifter-up of his head. In his deepeft fclitude and retirement, he knows that he is in company with the greateft of beings ; and perceives within lumfelf fuch real fenfations of his prefence, as are more delightful than any thing that can be met with in the converfation of his creatures. Even in the hour of death, he confiders the pains of his dilTolution to be nothing elfe but the breaking clown of that partition, which Rands betwixt his foul, and the fight of that being who is always pre- fent with him, and is about to manifeft it> felf to him in fulnefs of joy.
If we would be thus happy, and thus fenhble of our Maker's prefence, from the fecret effects of nis mercy and goodnefs, we mull keep fuch a watch over all our thoughts, that in the language of the fcrip- ture, his foul may have pleafure iir us. •We mtfft take care not to grieve his holy fpirit, and endeavour to make the medita- tions of our hearts always acceptable in his fight, that he may delight thus to refide and dwell in us. The light of nature could direct; Seneca to this doctrine, in a very remarkable paflage among his epiftles; Saccr incjl in nobis Jpiritus, bonorum malor urn- cue cujlos ct olfewator ; el quemadmodum nos ilium trr.SIamus, it a et ilk nos. ' There is c a holy fpirit refiding in us, who watches
* and obferves both good and evil men, c and will treat us after the fame manner « that we treat him.' But I fhall conclude this difcourfe with thofe more emphatical words in divine revelation ; < If a man love
* me, he will keep my words ; and my
* Father will love him, and we will come
* unto him, and make our abode with
* him.' Spectator.
§ 9. On the Immortality of the Soul.
I was yeftcrday walking alone in one of Jny friend's woods, and loft myfelf in it very agreeably, as I was running over in my mind the feveral arguments that efta- blifh this great point, which is the bafis of morality, and the fource of all the pleafing hopes and fecret joys that can arife in the heart of a reafonable creature. I confi- dered thofe feveral proofs drawn,
Firft:, from the nature of the foul itfelf, and particularly its immateriality ; which, though not abfolutely neceftary to the eter-
nity of its duration, has, I think, been evinced to almoft a demonftrat-ion.
Secondly, from its paffions and fenti- ments, as particularly from its love of ex- igence, its horror of annihilation, and its hopes of immortality, with that fecret fa- tisfaetion which it finds in the practice of virtue, and that uneafmefs which follows in it upon the cornmifiion of vice.
Thirdly, from the nature of the Supreme Being, whofe juftice, goodnefs, wifdom, and veracity, are all concerned in this point.
But among thefe and other excellent ar- guments for the immortality of the foul, there is one drawn from the perpetual pro- grefs of the foul to its perfection, without a pofiibility of ever arriving at it ; which is a hint that I do not remember to have feen opened and improved by others who have written on this fubject, though it feems to me to carry a very great weight with it. How can it enter into the thoughts of man, that the foul, winch is capable of fuch imrnenfe perfections, and of receiving new improvements to all eternity, fhall fall away into nothing almoft as foon as it is created ? Are fuch abilities made for no purpofe ? A brute arrives at a point of perfection that he can never pafs : in a few years he has all the endowments he is ca- pable of; and were he to live ten thoufand more, would be the fame thing he is at prefent. Were a human foul thus at a ftand in her accomplilhments, were her fa- culties to be full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away infenfibly, and drop at once into a ftate of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking being, that is in a perpetual progrefs cf improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfection, after having juft looked abroad into the works of its Creator, and made a few dif- coveries of his infinite goodnefs, wifdom, and power, muft perifh at her firft fetting out, and in the very beginning of her en- quiries ?
A man, confidered in his prefent ftate, feems only fent into the world to propagate his kind. He provides himfelf with a fuc- cefTor, and immediately quits his poft to make room for him.
•Ha
Haredtm alter iusf velut unda fupervenit undam.
Kor. Ep. ii. 1. 2. v. 175*
Heir crowds heir, as in a rolling flood Wave urges wave. Creech.
x He
BOOK I. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.
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He does not feem born to enjoy life, but to deliver it down to others. This is not furprizing to coniider in animals, which are formed for our ufe, and can finiih their bufmefs in a fhort life. The filk-worm, after having fpun her talk, lays her eggs and dies. But a man can never have taken in his full meafure of knowledge, has not time to fubdue his paffions, efta- blifh his foul in virtue, and come up to the perfection of his nature, before he is hur- ried off the ftage. Would an infinitely wife being make fuch glorious creatures for fo mean a purpofe ? Can h? delight in the production of fuch abortive intelli- gences, fuch fhort-lived reasonable beings ? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted? capacities that are never to be gratified t How can we find that wifdom which mines through all his works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nurfery for the next, and believing that the feveral generations of rational creatures, which rife up and difap- pear in fuch quick fucceffions, are only to receive their firft rudiments of exiitence here, and afterwards to be tranfplanted into a more friendly climate, where they may fpread and fiourifh to all eternity I
There is not, in my opinion, a more pleafmg and triumphant coniideration in religion, than this of the perpetual progrefs which the foul makes towards the perfec- tion of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look upon the foul as going on from ftrength to nrength, to con- fider that fhe is to fhine for ever with new acceffions of glory, and brighten to all eternity ; that fhe will be (till adding vir- tue to virtue, and knowledge to know- ledge; carries in it fomething wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it muft be a profpecf pleafmg to God himfelf, to fee his Creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him, by greater de- grees of refemblance.
Methinks this fingle coniideration, of :he progrefs of a finite fpirit to perfection, ivill be fufficient to extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in fupe- "ior. That cherubim, which now appears 9.S a God to a human foul, knows very ■veil that the period will come about in Eternity, when the human foul fhai! be as serfect as he himfelf now is : nay, when (he ball look down upon that degree of par- action as much as fhe now falls fhort of it. It is true, the higher nature ftill advances,
and by that means preferves his diftanee and fuperiority in the fcale of being ; but he knows that, how high foever the fhtion is of which he ftands poflefled at prefent, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and fhine forth in the fame degree of" glory.
With what aftonifhment and veneration may we look into our own fouls, where there are fuch hidden flores of virtue and knowledge, fuch inexhaulted fources of perfection ! We know not yet what we (hall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be al- ways in referve for him. The foul, confi- dered with its Creator, is like one of thofe mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a pofft- bility of touching it : and can there be a thought fo tranfporting as to coniider our- felves in thefe perpetual approaches to him, who is not only the ftandard of perfection, but of happinefs ! Spectator.
§ 10. The Duty of Children to their Parents.
I am the happy father of a very toward- ly fon, in whom I do not only fee my life, out alfo my manner of life renewed. It would be extremely beneficial to fociety, if you would frequently refume fubjefts which ferve to bind thefe fort of relations falter, and endear the ties of blood with thofe of good-will, protection, obfervance, indulgence, and veneration. I would, me- tiunks, have this done after an uncommon method ; and do not think any one, who is not capable of writing a good play, fit to undertake a work wherein there will ne- ceffarily occur fo many fecret inftinfts and biafles of human nature, which would pafs unobferved by common eyes. I thank Heaven I have no outrageous offence againft my own excellent parents to anfwer for ; but when I am now and then alone, and look back upon my paft life, from my ear- lieft infancy to this time, there are many faults which I committed that did not ap- pear to me, even until I myfelf became a father. I had not until then a notion of the yearnings of heart, which a man has when he fees his child do a laudable thing,, or the fudden damp which feizes him when he fears he will ad fomething unworthy. It is not to be imagined what a remorfe touched me foralon-;- train of cri.'difnneP■- ligences or my mctner, v/nen I raw my wife the other day look out of the window,, and turn a; pale as afhes upon feeing my
younger
ELEGANT EXTRACTS IN PROSE.
younger boy Aiding upon the ice. Thefe flight intimations will give you to under- hand, that there are numberlefs little crimes, which children take no notice of while they are doing, which, upon reflexion, when they mail themfelves become fathers, they will look upon with the utmoft forrow and contrition, that they did not regard, before thofe whom they offended were to be no more {een. How many thoufand things do I remember, which would have highly pleafed my father, and I omitted for no other reafon but that I thought what he propofed the effetl of humour and old age, which I am now convinced had reafon and good fenfe in it ! I cannot now go into the parlour to him, and make his heart glad with an account of a matter which was of no confequence, but that I told it and acted in it. The good man and woman are long fince in their graves, who ufed to fit and plot the welfare of us their children, while, perhaps, we were fometimes laughing at the old folks at another end of the houfe. The truth of it is, were we merely to fol- low nature in thefe great duties of life, ihough we have a ftrong inftincl towards the performing of them, we mould be on both fides very deficient. Age is fo un- welcome to the generality of mankind, and jrrowth towards manhood fo defirable to all, that refignation to decay is too difficult a taflc in the father ; and deference, amidit "the impulfe of gay defires, appears unrea- sonable to the fon. There are fo few who can grow old with a good grace, and yet fewer who can come flow enough into the world, that a father, were he to be actuated by his defires, and a fon, were he to con- fult himfelf only, could neither of them be- have himfelf as he ought to the other. But when reafon interpofes againit inftinct, where it would carry either out of the in- terefls of the other, there arife.s that hap- .pielt intercourfe of good offices between thofe deareit relations of human life. The father, according to the opportunities which are offered to him, is throwing down blef- fings on the fon, and the fon endeavouring to app^i' the worthy offspring of fuch a father. It is after this manner that Ca- millus and his firft-born dwell together. Camillas enjoys a pleafing and indolent old aire, in which pailion is fubdued and rea- fon exalted. He waits the day of his dif- folutian with a refignation mixed