We cannot, indeed, boast ourselves the inventors of a scheme so

commodious and comprehensive. The French, among innumerable projects for

the promotion of traffick, have taken care to supply their merchants

with a Dictionnaire de Commerce, collected with great industry and

exactness, but too large for common use, and adapted to their own trade.

This book, as well as others, has been carefully consulted, that our

merchants may not be ignorant of any thing known by their enemies or

rivals.

Such, indeed, is the extent of our undertaking, that it was necessary to

solicit every information, to consult the living and the dead. The great

qualification of him that attempts a work thus general is diligence of

inquiry. No man has opportunity or ability to acquaint himself with all

the subjects of a commercial dictionary, so as to describe from his own

knowledge, or assert on his own experience. He must, therefore, often

depend upon the veracity of others, as every man depends in common life,

and have no other skill to boast than that of selecting judiciously, and

arranging properly.

But to him who considers the extent of our subject, limited only by the

bounds of nature and of art, the task of selection and method will

appear sufficient to overburden industry and distract attention. Many

branches of commerce are subdivided into smaller and smaller parts,

till, at last, they become so minute, as not easily to be noted by

observation. Many interests are so woven among each other, as not to be

disentangled without long inquiry; many arts are industriously kept

secret, and many practices, necessary to be known, are carried on in

parts too remote for intelligence.

But the knowledge of trade is of so much importance to a maritime

nation, that no labour can be thought great by which information may be

obtained; and, therefore, we hope the reader will not have reason to

complain, that, of what he might justly expect to find, any thing is

omitted.

To give a detail or analysis of our work is very difficult; a volume

intended to contain whatever is requisite to be known by every trader,

necessarily becomes so miscellaneous and unconnected, as not to be

easily reducible to heads; yet, since we pretend in some measure to

treat of traffick as a science, and to make that regular and

systematical which has hitherto been, to a great degree, fortuitous and

conjectural, and has often succeeded by chance rather than by conduct,

it will be proper to show that a distribution of parts has been

attempted, which, though rude and inadequate, will, at least, preserve

some order, and enable the mind to take a methodical and successive view

of this design.

In the dictionary which we here offer to the publick, we propose to

exhibit the materials, the places, and the means of traffick.

The materials or subjects of traffick are whatever is bought and sold,

and include, therefore, every manufacture of art, and almost every

production of nature.

In giving an account of the commodities of nature, whether those which

are to be used in their original state, as drugs and spices, or those

which become useful when they receive a new form from human art, as

flax, cotton, and metals, we shall show the places of their production,

the manner in which they grow, the art of cultivating or collecting

them, their discriminations and varieties, by which the best sorts are

known from the worse, and genuine from fictitious, the arts by which

they are counterfeited, the casualties by which they are impaired, and

the practices by which the damage is palliated or concealed. We shall,

likewise, show their virtues and uses, and trace them through all the

changes which they undergo.

The history of manufactures is, likewise, delivered. Of every artificial

commodity the manner in which it is made is, in some measure, described,

though it must be remembered, that manual operations are scarce to be

conveyed by any words to him that has not seen them. Some general

notions may, however, be afforded: it is easy to comprehend, that plates

of iron are formed by the pressure of rollers, and bars by the strokes

of a hammer; that a cannon is cast, and that an anvil is forged. But, as

it is to most traders of more use to know when their goods are well

wrought, than by what means, care has been taken to name the places

where every manufacture has been carried furthest, and the marks by

which its excellency may be ascertained.

By the places of trade, are understood all ports, cities, or towns,

where staples are established, manufactures are wrought, or any

commodities are bought and sold advantageously. This part of our work

includes an enumeration of almost all the remarkable places in the

world, with such an account of their situation, customs, and products,

as the merchant would require, who, being to begin a new trade in any

foreign country, was yet ignorant of the commodities of the place, and

the manners of the inhabitants.

But the chief attention of the merchant, and, consequently, of the

author who writes for merchants, ought to be employed upon the means of

trade, which include all the knowledge and practice necessary to the

skilful and successful conduct of commerce.

The first of the means of trade is proper education, which may confer a

competent skill in numbers; to be afterwards completed in the

counting-house, by observation of the manner of stating accounts, and

regulating books, which is one of the few arts which, having been studied

in proportion to its importance, is carried as far as use can require. The

counting-house of an accomplished merchant is a school of method, where

the great science may be learned of ranging particulars under generals,

of bringing the different parts of a transaction together, and of

showing, at one view, a long series of dealing and exchange. Let no man

venture into large business while he is ignorant of the method of

regulating books; never let him imagine that any degree of natural

abilities will enable him to supply this deficiency, or preserve

multiplicity of affairs from inextricable confusion.

This is the study, without which all other studies will be of little

avail; but this alone is not sufficient. It will be necessary to learn

many other things, which, however, may be easily included in the

preparatory institutions, such as an exact knowledge of the weights and

measures of different countries, and some skill in geography and

navigation, with which this book may, perhaps, sufficiently supply him.

In navigation, considered as part of the skill of a merchant, is

included not so much the art of steering a ship, as the knowledge of the

seacoast, and of the different parts to which his cargoes are sent; the

customs to be paid; the passes, permissions, or certificates to be

procured; the hazards of every voyage, and the true rate of insurance.

To this must be added, an acquaintance with the policies and arts of

other nations, as well those to whom the commodities are sold, as of

those who carry goods of the same kind to the same market; and who are,

therefore, to be watched as rivals endeavouring to take advantage of

every errour, miscarriage, or debate.

The chief of the means of trade is money, of which our late refinements

in traffick have made the knowledge extremely difficult. The merchant

must not only inform himself of the various denominations and value of

foreign coins, together with their method of counting and reducing; such

as the milleries of Portugal, and the livres of France; but he must

learn what is of more difficult attainment; the discount of exchanges,

the nature of current paper, the principles upon which the several banks

of Europe are established, the real value of funds, the true credit of

trading companies, with all the sources of profit, and possibilities of

loss.

All this he must learn, merely as a private dealer, attentive only to

his own advantage; but, as every man ought to consider himself as part

of the community to which he belongs, and while he prosecutes his own

interest to promote, likewise, that of his country, it is necessary for

the trader to look abroad upon mankind, and study many questions which

are, perhaps, more properly political than mercantile.

He ought, therefore, to consider very accurately the balance of trade,

or the proportion between things exported and imported; to examine what

kinds of commerce are unlawful, either as being expressly prohibited,

because detrimental to the manufactures or other interest of his

country, as the exportation of silver to the East-Indies, and the

introduction of French commodities; or unlawful in itself, as the

traffick for negroes. He ought to be able to state with accuracy the

benefits and mischiefs of monopolies, and exclusive companies; to

inquire into the arts which have been practised by them to make

themselves necessary, or by their opponents to make them odious. He

should inform himself what trades are declining, and what are

improvable; when the advantage is on our side, and when on that of our

rivals.

The state of our colonies is always to be diligently surveyed, that no

advantage may be lost which they can afford, and that every opportunity

may be improved of increasing their wealth and power, or of making them

useful to their mother country.

There is no knowledge of more frequent use than that, of duties and

impost, whether customs paid at the ports, or excises levied upon the

manufacturer. Much of the prosperity of a trading nation depends upon

duties properly apportioned; so that what is necessary may continue

cheap, and what is of use only to luxury may, in some measure, atone to

the publick for the mischief done to individuals. Duties may often be so

regulated as to become useful even to those that pay them; and they may

be, likewise, so unequally imposed as to discourage honesty, and depress

industry, and give temptation to fraud and unlawful practices.

To teach all this is the design of the Commercial Dictionary; which,

though immediately and primarily written for the merchants, will be of

use to every man of business or curiosity. There is no man who is not,

in some degree, a merchant, who has not something to buy and something

to sell, and who does not, therefore, want such instructions as may

teach him the true value of possessions or commodities.

The descriptions of the productions of the earth and water, which this

volume will contain, may be equally pleasing and useful to the

speculatist with any other natural history; and the accounts of various

manufactures will constitute no contemptible body of experimental

philosophy. The descriptions of ports and cities may instruct the

geographer, as well as if they were found in books appropriated only to

his own science; and the doctrines of funds, insurances, currency,

monopolies, exchanges, and duties, is so necessary to the politician,

that without it he can be of no use either in the council or the senate,

nor can speak or think justly either on war or trade.

We, therefore, hope that we shall not repent the labour of compiling

this work; nor flatter ourselves unreasonably, in predicting a

favourable reception to a book which no condition of life can render

useless, which may contribute to the advantage of all that make or

receive laws, of all that buy or sell, of all that wish to keep or

improve their possessions, of all that desire to be rich, and all that

desire to be wise[2].

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A new Dictionary of Trade and Commerce, compiled from the

information of the most eminent merchants, and from the works of the

best writers on commercial subjects in all languages, by Mr. Rolt.

Folio, 1757.

[2] Of this preface, Mr. Boswell informs us that Dr. Johnson said he

never saw Rolt, and never read the book. "The booksellers wanted a

preface to a dictionary of trade and commerce. I knew very well what

such a dictionary should be, and I wrote a preface accordingly."

This may be believed; but the book is a most wretched farrago of

articles plundered without acknowledgment, or judgment, which,

indeed, was the case with most of Rolt's compilations.

PREFACE

TO THE TRANSLATION OF

FATHER LOBO'S VOYAGE TO ABYSSINIA[1].

The following relation is so curious and entertaining, and the

dissertations that accompany it so judicious and instructive, that the

translator is confident his attempt stands in need of no apology,

whatever censures may fall on the performance.

The Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general vein of his

countrymen, has amused his reader with no romantick absurdities or

incredible fictions: whatever he relates, whether true or not, is at

least probable; and he who tells nothing exceeding the bounds of

probability, has a right to demand that they should believe him who

cannot contradict him.

He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have described

things as he saw them, to have copied nature from the life, and to have

consulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets with no basilisks

that destroy with their eyes; his crocodiles devour their prey without

tears; and his cataracts fall from the rock without deafening the

neighbouring inhabitants.

The reader will here find no regions cursed with irremediable

barrenness, or blest with spontaneous fecundity; no perpetual gloom or

unceasing sunshine; nor are the nations here described either devoid of

all sense of humanity, or consummate in all private and social virtues:

here are no Hottentots without religion, polity, or articulate language;

no Chinese perfectly polite, and completely skilled in all sciences: he

will discover what will always be discovered by a diligent and impartial

inquirer, that wherever human nature is to be found, there is a mixture

of vice and virtue, a contest of passion and reason; and that the

Creator doth not appear partial in his distributions, but has balanced

in most countries their particular inconveniencies by particular

favours.

In his account of the mission, where his veracity is most to be

suspected, he neither exaggerates overmuch the merits of the Jesuits, if

we consider the partial regard paid by the Portuguese to their

countrymen, by the Jesuits to their society, and by the papists to their

church; nor aggravates the vices of the Abyssinians; but if the reader

will not be satisfied with a popish account of a popish mission, he may

have recourse to the history of the church of Abyssinia, written by Dr.

Geddes, in which he will find the actions and sufferings of the

missionaries placed in a different light, though the same in which Mr.

LeGrand, with all his zeal for the Roman church, appears to have seen

them.

This learned dissertator, however valuable for his industry and

erudition, is yet more to be esteemed for having dared so freely, in the

midst of France, to declare his disapprobation of the patriarch Oviedo's

sanguinary zeal, who was continually importuning the Portuguese to beat

up their drums for missionaries who might preach the gospel with swords

in their hands, and propagate, by desolation and slaughter, the true

worship of the God of peace.

It is not easy to forbear reflecting with how little reason these men

profess themselves the followers of JESUS, who left this great

characteristick to his disciples, that they should be known by loving

one another, by universal and unbounded charity and benevolence.

Let us suppose an inhabitant of some remote and superiour region, yet

unskilled in the ways of men, having read and considered the precepts of

the gospel, and the example of our Saviour, to come down in search of

the true church. If he would not inquire after it among the cruel, the

insolent, and the oppressive; among those who are continually grasping

at dominion over souls as well as bodies; among those who are employed

in procuring to themselves impunity for the most enormous villanies, and

studying methods of destroying their fellow-creatures, not for their

crimes, but their errours; if he would not expect to meet benevolence

engage in massacres, or to find mercy in a court of inquisition,--he

would not look for the true church in the church of Rome.

Mr. LeGrand has given, in one dissertation, an example of great

moderation, in deviating from the temper of his religion; but, in the

others, has left proofs, that learning and honesty are often too weak to

oppose prejudice. He has made no scruple of preferring the testimony of

father Du Bernat to the writings of all the Portuguese jesuits, to whom

he allows great zeal, but little learning, without giving any other

reason than that his favourite was a Frenchman. This is writing only to

Frenchmen and to papists: a protestant would be desirous to know, why he

must imagine that father Du Bernat had a cooler head or more knowledge,

and why one man, whose account is singular, is not more likely to be

mistaken than many agreeing in the same account.

If the Portuguese were biassed by any particular views, another bias

equally powerful may have deflected the Frenchman from the truth; for

they evidently write with contrary designs: the Portuguese, to make

their mission seem more necessary, endeavoured to place, in the

strongest light, the differences between the Abyssinian and Roman

church; but the great Ludolfus, laying hold on the advantage, reduced

these later writers to prove their conformity.

Upon the whole, the controversy seems of no great importance to those

who believe the holy Scriptures sufficient to teach the way of

salvation; but, of whatever moment it may be thought, there are no

proofs sufficient to decide it.

His discourses on indifferent subjects will divert, as well as instruct;

and if either in these, or in the relation of father Lobo, any argument

shall appear unconvincing, or description obscure, they are defects

incident to all mankind, which, however, are not rashly to be imputed to

the authors, being sometimes, perhaps, more justly chargeable on the

translator.

In this translation (if it may be so called) great liberties have been

taken, which, whether justifiable or not, shall be fairly confessed, and

let the judicious part of mankind pardon or condemn them.

In the first part, the greatest freedom has been used, in reducing the

narration into a narrow compass; so that it is by no means a

translation, but an epitome, in which, whether every thing either useful

or entertaining be comprised, the compiler is least qualified to

determine.

In the account of Abyssinia, and the continuation, the authors have been

followed with more exactness; and as few passages appeared either

insignificant or tedious, few have been either shortened or omitted.

The dissertations are the only part in which an exact translation has

been attempted; and even in those, abstracts are sometimes given,

instead of literal quotations, particularly in the first; and sometimes

other parts have been contracted.

Several memorials and letters, which are printed at the end of the

dissertations to secure the credit of the foregoing narrative, are

entirely left out.

It is hoped that, after this confession, whoever shall compare this

attempt with the original, if he shall find no proofs of fraud or

partiality, will candidly overlook any failure of judgment.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] This translation was Johnson's first literary production, and was

published in 1735, with London on the title page, though, according

to Boswell, it was printed at Birmingham. In the preface and

dedication, the elegant structure of the sentences, and the harmony

of their cadence, are such as characterize his maturer works. Here

we may adopt the words of Mr. Murphy, and affirm that "we see the

infant Hercules." In the merely translated parts, no vestige of the

translator's own style appears. For Burke's opinion on the work, see

Boswell's Life of Johnson, i.; and for Johnson's own, see Boswell,

iii. In Murphy's Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson, there

is a compendious account of the benevolent travels of the Portuguese

missionary, who may fairly be called the precursor of Bruce.

Independent of its intrinsic merits, this translation is interesting

as illustrative of Johnson's early fondness for voyages and travels;

the perusal of which, refreshed Gray when weary of heavier labours,

and were pronounced by Warburton to constitute an important part of

a philosopher's library.

AN ESSAY ON EPITAPHS[1].

[1] From the Gentleman's Magazine.

Though criticism has been cultivated in every age of learning, by men of

great abilities and extensive knowledge, till the rules of writing are

become rather burdensome than instructive to the mind; though almost

every species of composition has been the subject of particular

treatises and given birth to definitions, distinctions, precepts and

illustrations; yet no critick of note, that has fallen within my

observation, has hitherto thought sepulchral inscriptions worthy of a

minute examination, or pointed out, with proper accuracy, their beauties

and defects.

The reasons of this neglect it is useless to inquire, and, perhaps,

impossible to discover; it might be justly expected that this kind of

writing would have been the favourite topick of criticism, and that

self-love might have produced some regard for it, in those authors that

have crowded libraries with elaborate dissertations upon Homer; since to

afford a subject for heroick poems is the privilege of very few, but

every man may expect to be recorded in an epitaph, and, therefore, finds

some interest in providing that his memory may not suffer by an

unskilful panegyrick.

If our prejudices in favour of antiquity deserve to have any part in the

regulation of our studies, epitaphs seem entitled to more than common

regard, as they are, probably, of the same age with the art of writing.

The most ancient structures in the world, the pyramids, are supposed to

be sepulchral monuments, which either pride or gratitude erected; and

the same passions which incited men to such laborious and expensive

methods of preserving their own memory, or that of their benefactors,

would, doubtless, incline them not to neglect any easier means by which

the same ends might be obtained. Nature and reason have dictated to

every nation, that to preserve good actions from oblivion, is both the

interest and duty of mankind: and, therefore, we find no people

acquainted with the use of letters, that omitted to grace the tombs of

their heroes and wise men with panegyrical inscriptions.

To examine, therefore, in what the perfection of epitaphs consists, and

what rules are to be observed in composing them, will be, at least, of

as much use as other critical inquiries; and for assigning a few hours

to such disquisitions, great examples, at least, if not strong reasons,

may be pleaded.

An epitaph, as the word itself implies, is an inscription on a tomb,

and, in its most extensive import, may admit, indiscriminately, satire

or praise. But as malice has seldom produced monuments of defamation,

and the tombs, hitherto raised, have been the work of friendship and

benevolence, custom has contracted the original latitude of the word, so

that it signifies, in the general acceptation, an inscription engraven

on a tomb in honour of the person deceased.

As honours are paid to the dead, in order to incite others to the

imitation of their excellencies, the principal intention of epitaphs is

to perpetuate the examples of virtue, that the tomb of a good man may

supply the want of his presence, and veneration for his memory produce

the same effect as the observation of his life. Those epitaphs are,

therefore, the most perfect, which set virtue in the strongest light,

and are best adapted to exalt the readers ideas, and rouse his

emulation.

To this end it is not always necessary to recount the actions of a hero,

or enumerate the writings of a philosopher; to imagine such informations

necessary, is to detract from their characters, or to suppose their

works mortal, or their achievements in danger of being forgotten. The

bare name of such men answers every purpose of a long inscription.

Had only the name of Sir Isaac Newton been subjoined to the design upon

his monument, instead of a long detail of his discoveries, which no

philosopher can want, and which none but a philosopher can understand,

those, by whose direction it was raised, had done more honour both to

him and to themselves.

This, indeed, is a commendation which it requires no genius to bestow,

but which can never become vulgar or contemptible, if bestowed with

judgment; because no single age produces many men of merit superiour to

panegyrick. None but the first names can stand unassisted against the

attacks of time; and if men raised to reputation by accident or caprice,

have nothing but their names engraved on their tombs, there is danger

lest, in a few years, the inscription require an interpreter. Thus have

their expectations been disappointed who honoured Picus of Mirandola

with this pompous epitaph:

Hic situs est PICUS MIRANDOLA, caetera norunt

Et Tagus et Ganges, forsan et Antipodes.

His name, then celebrated in the remotest corners of the earth, is now

almost forgotten; and his works, then studied, admired, and applauded,

are now mouldering in obscurity.

Next in dignity to the bare name is a short character simple and

unadorned, without exaggeration, superlatives, or rhetorick. Such were

the inscriptions in use among the Romans, in which the victories gained

by their emperours were commemorated by a single epithet; as Cæsar

Germanicus, Cæsar Dacicus, Germanicus, Illyricus. Such would be this

epitaph, ISAACUS NEWTONUS, naturae legibus investigatis, hic quiescit.

But to far the greatest part of mankind a longer encomium is necessary

for the publication of their virtues, and the preservation of their

memories; and, in the composition of these it is, that art is

principally required, and precepts, therefore, may be useful.

In writing epitaphs, one circumstance is to be considered, which affects

no other composition; the place in which they are now commonly found

restrains them to a particular air of solemnity, and debars them from

the admission of all lighter or gayer ornaments. In this, it is that,

the style of an epitaph necessarily differs from that of an elegy. The

customs of burying our dead, either in or near our churches, perhaps,

originally founded on a rational design of fitting the mind for

religious exercises, by laying before it the most affecting proofs of

the uncertainty of life, makes it proper to exclude from our epitaphs

all such allusions as are contrary to the doctrines, for the propagation

of which the churches are erected, and to the end for which those who

peruse the monuments must be supposed to come thither. Nothing is,

therefore, more ridiculous than to copy the Roman inscriptions, which

were engraven on stones by the highway, and composed by those who

generally reflected on mortality only to excite in themselves and others

a quicker relish of pleasure, and a more luxurious enjoyment of life,

and whose regard for the dead extended no farther than a wish that "the

earth might be light upon them."

All allusions to the heathen mythology are, therefore, absurd, and all

regard for the senseless remains of a dead man impertinent and

superstitious. One of the first distinctions of the primitive

Christians, was their neglect of bestowing garlands on the dead, in

which they are very rationally defended by their apologist in Manutius

Felix. "We lavish no flowers nor odours on the dead," says he, "because

they have no sense of fragrance or of beauty." We profess to reverence

the dead, not for their sake, but for our own. It is, therefore, always

with indignation or contempt that I read the epitaph on Cowley, a man

whose learning and poetry were his lowest merits.

Aurea dum late volitant tua scripta per orbem,

Et fama eternum vivis, divine poeta,

Hic placida jaceas requie, custodiat urnam

Cana fides, vigilenique perenni lampade muse!

Sit sacer ille locus, nec quis temerarius ausit

Sacrilega turbare manu venerabile bustum.

Intacti maneant, maneant per sæcula dulces

COWLEII cineres, serventque immobile saxum.

To pray that the ashes of a friend may lie undisturbed, and that the

divinities that favoured him in his life may watch for ever round him,

to preserve his tomb from violation, and drive sacrilege away, is only

rational in him who believes the soul interested in the repose of the

body, and the powers which he invokes for its protection able to

preserve it. To censure such expressions, as contrary to religion, or as

remains of heathen superstition, would be too great a degree of

severity. I condemn them only as uninstructive and unaffecting, as too

ludicrous for reverence or grief, for Christianity and a temple.

That the designs and decorations of monuments ought, likewise, to be

formed with the same regard to the solemnity of the place, cannot be

denied; it is an established principle, that all ornaments owe their

beauty to their propriety. The same glitter of dress, that adds graces

to gaiety and youth, would make age and dignity contemptible. Charon

with his boat is far from heightening the awful grandeur of the

universal judgment, though drawn by Angelo himself; nor is it easy to

imagine a greater absurdity than that of gracing the walls of a

Christian temple, with the figure of Mars leading a hero to battle, or

Cupids sporting round a virgin. The pope who defaced the statues of the

deities at the tomb of Sannazarius is, in my opinion, more easily to be

defended, than he that erected them.

It is, for the same reason, improper to address the epitaph to the

passenger, a custom which an injudicious veneration for antiquity

introduced again at the revival of letters, and which, among many

others, Passeratius suffered to mislead him in his epitaph upon the

heart of Henry, king of France, who was stabbed by Clement the monk,

which yet deserves to be inserted, for the sake of showing how beautiful

even improprieties may become in the hands of a good writer.

Adsta, viator, et dole regum vices.

Cor regis isto conditur sub marmore,

Qui jura Gallis, jura Sarmatis dedit;

Tectus cucullo hunc sustulit sicarius.

Abi, viator, et dole regum vices.

In the monkish ages, however ignorant and unpolished, the epitaphs were

drawn up with far greater propriety than can be shown in those which

more enlightened times have produced.

Orate pro anima miserrimi peccatoris,

was an address, to the last degree, striking and solemn, as it flowed

naturally from the religion then believed, and awakened in the reader

sentiments of benevolence for the deceased, and of concern for his own

happiness. There was nothing trifling or ludicrous, nothing that did not

tend to the noblest end, the propagation of piety, and the increase of

devotion.

It may seem very superfluous to lay it down as the first rule for

writing epitaphs, that the name of the deceased is not to be omitted;

nor should I have thought such a precept necessary, had not the practice

of the greatest writers shown, that it has not been sufficiently

regarded. In most of the poetical epitaphs, the names for whom they were

composed, may be sought to no purpose, being only prefixed on the

monument. To expose the absurdity of this omission, it is only necessary

to ask how the epitaphs, which have outlived the stones on which they

were inscribed, would have contributed to the information of posterity,

had they wanted the names of those whom they celebrated.

In drawing the character of the deceased, there are no rules to be

observed which do not equally relate to other compositions. The praise

ought not to be general, because the mind is lost in the extent of any

indefinite idea, and cannot be affected with what it cannot comprehend.

When we hear only of a good or great man, we know not in what class to

place him, nor have any notion of his character, distinct from that of a

thousand others; his example can have no effect upon our conduct, as we

have nothing remarkable or eminent to propose to our imitation. The

epitaph composed by Ennius for his own tomb, has both the faults last

mentioned.

Nemo me decoret lacrumis, nec funera fletu

Faxit. Cur?--Volito vivu' per ora virum.

The reader of this epitaph receives scarce any idea from it; he neither

conceives any veneration for the man to whom it belongs, nor is

instructed by what methods this boasted reputation is to be obtained.

Though a sepulchral inscription is professedly a panegyrick, and,

therefore, not confined to historical impartiality, yet it ought always

to be written with regard to truth. No man ought to be commended for

virtues which he never possessed, but whoever is curious to know his

faults must inquire after them in other places; the monuments of the

dead are not intended to perpetuate the memory of crimes, but to exhibit

patterns of virtue. On the tomb of Maecenas his luxury is not to be

mentioned with his munificence, nor is the proscription to find a place

on the monument of Augustus.

The best subject for epitaphs is private virtue; virtue exerted in the

same circumstances in which the bulk of mankind are placed, and which,

therefore, may admit of many imitators. He that has delivered his

country from oppression, or freed the world from ignorance and errour,

can excite the emulation of a very small number; but he that has

repelled the temptations of poverty, and disdained to free himself from

distress, at the expense of his virtue, may animate multitudes, by his

example, to the same firmness of heart and steadiness of resolution.

Of this kind I cannot forbear the mention of two Greek inscriptions; one

upon a man whose writings are well known, the other upon a person whose

memory is preserved only in her epitaph, who both lived in slavery, the

most calamitous estate in human life:

[Greek: Zosimae ae prin eousa mono to somati doulae

Kai to somati nun euren eleutheriaen.]

"Zosima, quae solo fuit olim corpore serva,

Corpore nunc etiam libera facta fuit."

"Zosima, who, in her life, could only have her body enslaved, now

finds her body, likewise, set at liberty."

It is impossible to read this epitaph without being animated to bear the

evils of life with constancy, and to support the dignity of human nature

under the most pressing afflictions, both, by the example of the

heroine, whose grave we behold, and the prospect of that state in which,

to use the language of the inspired writers, "The poor cease from their

labours, and the weary be at rest."--

The other is upon Epictetus, the Stoick philosopher:

[Greek: Doulos Epiktaetos genomaen, kai som anapaeros,

Kai peniaen Iros, kai philos Athanatois.]

"Servus Epictetus, mutilatus corpore, vixi

Pauperieque Irus, curaque prima deum."

"Epictetus, who lies here, was a slave and a cripple, poor as the

beggar in the proverb, and the favourite of heaven."

In this distich is comprised the noblest panegyrick, and the most

important instruction. We may learn from it, that virtue is

impracticable in no condition, since Epictetus could recommend himself

to the regard of heaven, amidst the temptations of poverty and slavery;

slavery, which has always been found so destructive to virtue, that in

many languages a slave and a thief are expressed by the same word. And

we may be, likewise, admonished by it, not to lay any stress on a man's

outward circumstances, in making an estimate of his real value, since

Epictetus the beggar, the cripple, and the slave, was the favourite of

heaven.

PREFACE TO AN ESSAY[1]

ON MILTON'S USE AND IMITATION OF THE MODERNS

IN HIS PARADISE LOST.

FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE YEAR 1750.

It is now more than half a century since the Paradise Lost, having broke

through the clouds with which the unpopularity of the author, for a

time, obscured it, has attracted the general admiration of mankind; who

have endeavoured to compensate the errour of their first neglect, by

lavish praises and boundless veneration. There seems to have arisen a

contest, among men of genius and literature, who should most advance its

honour, or best distinguish its beauties. Some have revised editions,

others have published commentaries, and all have endeavoured to make

their particular studies, in some degree, subservient to this general

emulation.

Among the inquiries, to which this ardour of criticism has naturally

given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, or more worthy of

rational curiosity, than a retrospection of the progress of this mighty

genius, in the construction of his work; a view of the fabrick gradually

rising, perhaps, from small beginnings, till its foundation rests in the

centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to trace back the

structure, through all its varieties, to the simplicity of its first

plan; to find what was first projected, whence the scheme was taken, how

it was improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from what

stores the materials were collected, whether its founder dug them from

the quarries of nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish his

own.

This inquiry has been, indeed, not wholly neglected, nor, perhaps,

prosecuted with the care and diligence that it deserves. Several

criticks have offered their conjectures; but none have much endeavoured

to enforce or ascertain them. Mr. Voltaire[2] tells us, without proof,

that the first hint of Paradise Lost was taken from a farce called

Adamo, written by a player; Dr. Pearce[3], that it was derived from an

Italian tragedy, called Il Paradiso Perso; and Mr. Peck[4], that it was

borrowed from a wild romance. Any of these conjectures may possibly be

true, but, as they stand without sufficient proof, it must be granted,

likewise, that they may all possibly be false; at least they cannot

preclude any other opinion, which, without argument, has the same claim

to credit, and may, perhaps, be shown, by resistless evidence, to be

better founded.

It is related, by steady and uncontroverted tradition, that the Paradise

Lost was at first a tragedy, and, therefore, amongst tragedies the first

hint is properly to be sought. In a manuscript, published from Milton's

own hand, among a great number of subjects for tragedy, is Adam

unparadised, or Adam in exile; and this, therefore, may be justly

supposed the embryo of this great poem. As it is observable, that all

these subjects had been treated by others, the manuscript can be

supposed nothing more, than a memorial or catalogue of plays, which, for

some reason, the writer thought worthy of his attention. When,

therefore, I had observed, that Adam in exile was named amongst them, I

doubted not but, in finding the original of that tragedy, I should

disclose the genuine source of Paradise Lost. Nor was my expectation

disappointed; for, having procured the Adamus exul of Grotius, I found,

or imagined myself to find, the first draught, the prima stamina of this

wonderful poem.

Having thus traced the original of this work, I was naturally induced to

continue my search to the collateral relations, which it might be

supposed to have contracted, in its progress to maturity: and having, at

least, persuaded my own judgment that the search has not been entirely

ineffectual, I now lay the result of my labours before the publick; with

full conviction that, in questions of this kind, the world cannot be

mistaken, at least, cannot long continue in errour.

I cannot avoid acknowledging the candour of the author of that excellent

monthly book, the Gentleman's Magazine, in giving admission to the

specimens in favour of this argument; and his impartiality in as freely

inserting the several answers. I shall here subjoin some extracts from

the seventeenth volume of this work, which I think suitable to my

purpose. To which I have added, in order to obviate every pretence for

cavil, a list of the authors quoted in the following essay, with their

respective dates, in comparison with the date of Paradise Lost.

POSTSCRIPT.

When this Essay was almost finished, the splendid edition of Paradise

Lost, so long promised by the reverend Dr. Newton, fell into my hands;

of which I had, however, so little use, that, as it would be injustice

to censure, it would be flattery to commend it: and I should have

totally forborne the mention of a book that I have not read, had not one

passage at the conclusion of the life of Milton, excited in me too much

pity and indignation to be suppressed in silence.

"Deborah, Milton's youngest daughter," says the editor, "was married to

Mr. Abraham Clarke, a weaver, in Spitalfields, and died in August, 1727,

in the 76th year of her age. She had ten children. Elizabeth, the

youngest, was married to Mr. Thomas Foster, a weaver, in Spitalfields,

and had seven children, who are all dead; and she, herself, is aged

about sixty, and weak and infirm. She seemeth to be a good, plain,

sensible woman, and has confirmed several particulars related above, and

informed me of some others, which she had often heard from her mother."

These the doctor enumerates, and then adds, "In all probability,

Milton's whole family will be extinct with her, and he can live only in

his writings. And such is the caprice of fortune, this granddaughter of

a man, who will be an everlasting glory to the nation, has now for some

years, with her husband, kept a little chandler's or grocer's shop, for

their subsistence, lately at the lower Holloway, in the road between

Highgate and London, and, at present, in Cocklane, not far from

Shoreditch-church."

That this relation is true cannot be questioned: but, surely, the honour

of letters, the dignity of sacred poetry, the spirit of the English

nation, and the glory of human nature, require--that it should be true

no longer. In an age, in which statues are erected to the honour of this

great writer, in which his effigy has been diffused on medals, and his

work propagated by translations, and illustrated by commentaries; in an

age, which amidst all its vices, and all its follies, has not become

infamous for want of charity: it may be, surely, allowed to hope, that

the living remains of Milton will be no longer suffered to languish in

distress. It is yet in the power of a great people, to reward the poet

whose name they boast, and from their alliance to whose genius, they

claim some kind of superiority to every other nation of the earth; that

poet, whose works may possibly be read when every other monument of

British greatness shall be obliterated; to reward him--not with

pictures, or with medals, which, if he sees, he sees with contempt, but

--with tokens of gratitude, which he, perhaps, may even now consider as

not unworthy the regard of an immortal spirit. And, surely, to those,

who refuse their names to no other scheme of expense, it will not be

unwelcome, that a subscription is proposed, for relieving, in the

languor of age, the pains of disease, and the contempt of poverty, the

granddaughter of the author of Paradise Lost. Nor can it be questioned,

that if I, who have been marked out as the Zoilus of Milton, think this

regard due to his posterity, the design will be warmly seconded by

those, whose lives have been employed, in discovering his excellencies,

and extending his reputation.

Subscriptions for the relief of Mrs. ELIZABETH FOSTER, granddaughter to

JOHN MILTON, are taken in by Mr. Dodsley, in Pall-Mall; Messrs. Cox and

Collings, under the Royal Exchange; Mr. Cave, at St. John's Gate,

Clerkenwell; and Messrs. Payne and Bouquet, in Paternoster-Row.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The history of Lauder's imposition is now almost forgotten, and is,

certainly, not worth revival. It is fully detailed in Dr. Drake's

Literary Life of Johnson, and in Boswell's Life, i. The conflicting

inferences drawn from Johnson's connexion with Lauder, by Hayley,

Dr. Symonds and Boswell, may easily be settled by those who have

leisure for, or take interest in, such inquiries. In the very heat

of the controversy, Johnson was never accused of intentional

deception. Dr. Douglas, in the year 1750, published a letter to the

earl of Bath, entitled, Milton vindicated from the charge of

plagiarism brought against him by Mr. Lauder. In this masterly

letter, after exposing the gross impositions and forgeries of

Lauder, he thus adverts to the author of the preface and postscript.

"It is to be hoped, nay, it is _expected_, that the elegant and

nervous writer, whose judicious sentiments, and inimitable style,

point out the author of Lauder's preface and postscript, will no

longer allow one to plume himself with his feathers, who appears so

little to have deserved his assistance; an assistance which, I am

persuaded, would never have been communicated, had there been the

least suspicion of those facts, which I have been the instrument of

conveying to the world in these sheets." p. 77. 8vo. 1751.

In Boswell's Life, i. 209, ed. 1816, Mr. Boswell thus writes, in a

note: "His lordship (Dr. Douglas, then bishop of Salisbury) has been

pleased now to authorise me to say, in the strongest manner, that

there is no ground whatever for any unfavourable reflection against

Dr. Johnson, who expressed the strongest indignation against

Lauder."--Ed.

[2] Essay upon the civil wars of France, and also upon the epick poetry

of the European nations, from Homer down to Milton, 8vo. 1727,

p. 103.

[3] Preface to a review of the text of the twelve books of Milton's

Paradise Lost, in which the chief of Dr. Bentley's emendations are

considered, 8vo. 1733.

[4] New memoirs of Mr. John Milton, by Francis Peck. 4to. 1740. p. 52.

A LETTER

TO THE REVEREND MR. DOUGLAS,

OCCASIONED BY HIS

VINDICATION OF MILTON.

To which are subjoined several curious original letters from the authors

of the Universal History, Mr. Ainsworth, Mr. Mac-Laurin, &c.

BY WILLIAM LAUDER, A.M.

_Quem pænitet peccasse pene est innocens._ SENECA.

_Corpora magnanimo satis est prostrasse Leoni:

Pugna suum finem, quum jacet hostis, habet._ OVID.

--_Prætuli clementiam

Juris rigori_.-- GROTII Adamus Exul.

FIRST PRINTED THE YEAR 1751.

PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS.

Dr. Johnson no sooner discovered the iniquitous conduct and designs of

Lauder, than he compelled him to confess and recant, in the following

letter to the reverend Mr. Douglas, which he drew up for him: but

scarcely had Lauder exhibited this sign of contrition, when he addressed

an apology to the archbishop of Canterbury, soliciting his patronage for

an edition of the very poets whose works he had so misapplied, and

concluding his address in the following spirit: "As for the

interpolations for which I am so highly blamed, when passion is

subsided, and the minds of men can patiently attend to truth, I promise

amply to replace them with passages equivalent in value, that are

genuine, that the public may be convinced that it was rather passion and

resentment, than a penury of evidence, the twentieth part of which has

not yet been produced, that obliged me to make use of them." This did

not satiate his malice: in 1752, he published the first volume of the

proposed edition of the Latin poets, and in 1753, a second, accompanied

with notes, both Latin and English, in a style of acrimonious

scurrility, indicative almost of insanity. In 1754, he brought forward a

pamphlet, entitled, King Charles vindicated from the charge of

plagiarism, brought against him by Milton, and Milton himself convicted

of forgery and gross imposition on the public. 8vo. In this work he

exhausts every epithet of abuse, and utterly disclaims every statement

made in his apology. It was reviewed, probably by Johnson, in the Gent.

Mag. 1754, p. 97.--Ed.

TO THE REVEREND MR. DOUGLAS.

Sir,

Candour and tenderness are, in any relation, and on all occasions,

eminently amiable; but when they are found in an adversary, and found so

prevalent as to overpower that zeal which his cause excites, and that

heat which naturally increases in the prosecution of argument, and which

may be, in a great measure, justified by the love of truth, they

certainly appear with particular advantages; and it is impossible not to

envy those who possess the friendship of him, whom it is, even, some

degree of good fortune to have known as an enemy.

I will not so far dissemble my weakness, or my fault, as not to confess

that my wish was to have passed undetected; but, since it has been my

fortune to fail in my original design, to have the supposititious

passages, which I have inserted in my quotations, made known to the

world, and the shade which began to gather on the splendour of Milton

totally dispersed, I cannot but count it an alleviation of my pain, that

I have been defeated by a man who knows how to use advantages, with so

much moderation, and can enjoy the honour of conquest, without the

insolence of triumph.

It was one of the maxims of the Spartans, not to press upon a flying

army, and, therefore, their enemies were always ready to quit the field,

because they knew the danger was only in opposing. The civility with

which you have thought proper to treat me, when you had incontestable

superiority, has inclined me to make your victory complete, without any

further struggle, and not only publicly to acknowledge the truth of the

charge which you have hitherto advanced, but to confess, without the

least dissimulation, subterfuge, or concealment, every other

interpolation I have made in those authors, which you have not yet had

opportunity to examine.

On the sincerity and punctuality of this confession, I am willing to

depend for all the future regard of mankind, and cannot but indulge some

hopes, that they, whom my offence has alienated from me, may, by this

instance of ingenuity and repentance, be propitiated and reconciled.

Whatever be the event, I shall, at least, have done all that can be done

in reparation of my former injuries to Milton, to truth, and to mankind;

and entreat that those who shall continue implacable, will examine their

own hearts, whether they have not committed equal crimes, without equal

proofs of sorrow, or equal acts of atonement[1].

[1] The interpolations are distinguished by inverted commas.

PASSAGES INTERPOLATED IN MASENIUS.

The word "pandemonium," in the marginal notes of

Book i. Essay, page 10.

Citation 6. Essay, page 38.

Annuit ipsa Dolo, malumque (heu! longa dolendi

Materies! et triste nefas!) vesana momordit,

Tanti ignara mali. Mora nulla: solutus avernus

Exspuit infandas acies; fractumque remugit,

Divulsa compage, solum: Nabathaea receptum

Regna dedere sonum, Pharioque in littore Nercus

Territus erubuit: simul aggemuere dolentes

Hesperiæ valles, Libyaeque calentis arenae

Exarsere procul. Stupefacta Lycaonis ursa

Constitit, et pavido riguit glacialis in axe:

Omnis cardinibus submotus inhorruit orbis;

"Angeli hoc efficiunt, coelestia jussa secuti."

Citation 7. Essay, page 41.

Ilia quidem fugiens, sparsis per terga capillis,

Ora rigat lacrimis, et coelum questibus implet:

Talia voce rogans. Magni Deus arbiter orbis!

Qui rerum momenta tenes, solusque futuri

Praescius, elapsique memor: quem terra potentem

Imperio, coelique tremunt; quem dite superbus

Horrescit Phlegethon, pavidoque furore veretur:

En! Styge crudeli premimur. Laxantur hiatus

Tartarei, dirusque solo dominatur Avernus,

"Infernique canes populantur cuncta creata,"

Et manes violant superos: discrimina rerum

Sustulit Antitheus, divumque oppressit honorem.

Respice Sarcotheam: nimis, heu! decepta momordit

Infaustas epulas, nosque omnes prodidit hosti.

Citation 8. Essay, page 42; the whole passage.

"Quadrupedi pugnat quadrupes, volucrique volucris;

Et piscis cum pisce ferox hostilibus armis

Prælia sæva gerit: jam pristina pabula spernunt,

Jam tondere piget viridantes gramine campos:

Alterum et alterius vivunt animalia letho:

Prisca nec in gentem humanam reverentia durat;

Sed fugiunt, vel, si steterant, fera bella minantur

Fronte truci, torvosque oculos jaculantur in illam."

Citation 9. Essay, page 43.

"Vatibus antiquis numerantur lumine cassis,"

Tiresias, "Phineus," Thamyrisque, et magnus Homerus.

The above passage stands thus in Masenius, in one line:

Tiresias caecus, Thamyrisque, et Daphnis, Homerus.

N.B. The verse now cited is in Masenius's poems, but not in the

Sarcotis.

Citation 10. Essay, page 46.

In medio, turmas inter provectus ovantes

Cernitur Antitheus; reliquis hic altior unus

Eminet, et circum vulgus despectat inane:

Frons nebulis obscura latet, torvumque furorem

Dissimulat, fidae tectus velamine noctis:

"Persimilis turri praecelsae, aut montibus altis

Antique cedro, nudatae frondis honore."

PASSAGES INTERPOLATED IN GROTIUS.

Citation 1. Essay, page 55.

Sacri tonantis hostis, exsul patriæ

Coelestis adsum; Tartari tristem specum

Fugiens, et atram noctis æternæ plagam.

Hac spe, quod unum maximum fugio malum,

Superos videbo. Fallor? an certe meo

Concussa tellus tota trepidat pondere?

"Quid dico? Tellus? Orcus et pedibus tremit."

Citation 2. Essay, page 58; the whole passage.

--"Nam, me judice,

Regnare dignum est ambitu, etsi in Tartaro:

Alto præcesse Tartaro siquidem juvat,

Coelis quam in ipsis servi obire munera."

Citation 4. Essay, page 61; the whole passage.

"Innominata quæque nominibus suis,

Libet vocare propriis vocabulis."

Citation 5. Essay, page 63.

Terrestris orbis rector! et princeps freti!

"Coeli solique soboles; ætherium genus!"

Adame! dextram liceat amplecti tuam!

Citation 6. Essay, _ibid_.

Quod illud animal, tramite obliquo means,

Ad me volutum flexili serpit via?

Sibila retorquet ora setosum caput

Trifidamque linguam vibrat: oculi ardent duo,

"Carbunculorum luce certantes rubra."

Citation 7. Essay, page 65; the whole passage.

--"Nata deo! atque homine sata!

Regina mundi! eademque interitus inscia!

Cunctis colenda!"--

Citation 8. Essay, page 66; the whole passage.

"Rationis etenim omnino paritas exigit,

Ego bruta quando bestia evasi loquens;

Ex homine, qualis ante, te fieri deam."

Citation 9. Essay, _ibid_.

Per sancta thalami sacra, per jus nominis

Quodcumque nostri: sive me natam vocas,

Ex te creatam; sive communi patre

Ortam, sororem; sive potius conjugem:

"Cassam, oro, dulci luminis jubare tui"

Ne me relinquas: nunc tuo auxilio est opus.

Cum versa sors est. Unicum lapsæ mihi

Firmamen, unam spem gravi adflictæ malo,

Te mihi reserva, dum licet: mortalium

Ne tota soboles pereat unius nece:

"Tibi nam relicta, quo petam? aut ævum exigam?"

Citation 10. Essay, page 67; the whole passage.

"Tu namque soli numini contrarius,

Minus es nocivus; ast ego nocentior,

(Adeoque misera magis, quippe miseriæ comes

Origoque scelus est, lurida mater male!)

Deumque læsi scelere, teque, vir! simul."

Citation 11. Essay, page 68; the whole passage.

"Quod comedo, poto, gigno, diris subjacet."

INTERPOLATION IN RAMSAY.

Citation 6. Essay, page 88.

O judex! nova me facies inopinaque terret;

Me maculæ turpes, nudæque in corpore sordes,

Et cruciant duris exercita pectora poenis:

Me ferus horror agit. Mihi non vernantia prata,

Non vitræi fontes, coeli non aurea templa,

Nec sunt grata mihi sub utroque jacentia sole:

Judicis ora dei sic terrent, lancinat ægrum

Sic pectus mihi noxa. O si mî abrumpere vitam,

Et detur poenam quovis evadere letho!

Ipsa parens utinam mihi tellus ima dehiscat!

Ad piceas trudarque umbras, atque infera regna!

"Pallentes umbras Erebi, noctemque profundam!"

Montibus aut premar injectis, coelique ruina!

Ante tuos vultus, tua quam flammantiaque ora

Suspiciam, caput objectem et coelestibus armis!

INTERPOLATIONS IN STAPHORSTIUS.

Citation 3. Essay, page 104.

Foedus in humanis fragili quod sanctius aevo!

Firmius et melius, quod magnificentius, ac quam

Conjugii, sponsi sponsaeque jugalia sacra!

"Auspice te, fugiens alieni subcuba lecti,

Dira libido hominum tota de gente repulsa est:

Ac tantum gregibus pecudum ratione carentum

Imperat, et sine lege tori furibunda vagatur.

Auspice te, quam jura probant, rectumque, piumque,

Filius atque pater, fraterque innotuit: et quot

Vincula vicini sociarunt sanguinis, a te

Nominibus didicere suam distinguere gentem."

Citation 6. Essay, page 109.

Coelestes animæ! sublimia templa tenentes,

Laudibus adcumulate deum super omnia magnum!--Tu

quoque nunc animi vis tota ac maxuma nostri!

Tota tui in Domini grates dissolvere laudes!

"Aurora redeunte nova, redeuntibus umbris."

Immensum! augustum! verum! inscrutabile numen!

Summe Deus! sobolesque Dei! concorsque duorum,

Spiritus! aeternas retines, bone rector! habenas,

Per mare, per terras, coelosque, atque unus Jehova

Existens, celebrabo tuas, memorique sonabo

Organico plectro laudes. Te pectore amabo,

"Te primum, et medium, et summum, sed fine carentem,"

O miris mirande modis! ter maxime rerum!

Collustrat terras dum humine Titan Eoo!

INTERPOLATION IN FOX.

Essay, page 116.

--Tu Psychephone

Hypocrisis esto, hoc sub Francisci pallio.

Tu Thanate, Martyromastix re et nomine sies.

Altered thus,

--Tu Pyschephone!

Hypocrisis esto; hoc sub Francisci pallio,

"Quo tuto tecti sese credunt emori."

INTERPOLATION IN QUINTIANUS.

Essay, page 117.

_Mic._ Cur hue procaci veneris cursu refer?

Manere si quis in sua potest domo,

Habitare numquam curet alienas domos.

_Luc._ Quis non, relicta Tartari nigri domo,

Veniret? Illic summa tenebrarum lues,

Ubi pedor ingens redolet extremum situm.

Hic autem amoena regna, et dulcis quies;

Ubi serenus ridet æternum dies.

Mutare facile[1] est pondus immensum levi;

"Summos dolores maximisque gaudiis."

[1] For _facile_, the word _votupe_ was substituted in the Essay.

INTERPOLATION IN BEZA.

Essay, page 119.

Stygemque testor, et profunda Tartari,

Nisi impediret livor, et queis prosequor

Odia supremum numen, atque hominum genus,

Pietate motus hinc patris, et hinc filii,

Possem parenti condolere et filio,

"Quasi exuissem omnem malitiam ex pectore."

INTERPOLATION IN FLETCHER.

Essay, page 124.

Nec tamen aeternos obliti (absiste timere)

Umquam animos, fessique ingentes ponimus iras.

Nec fas; non sic deficimus, nec talia tecum

Gessimus, in coelos olim tua signa secuti.

Est hic, est vitæ et magni contemptor Olympi,

Quique oblatam animus lucis nunc respuat aulam,

Et domiti tantum placeat cui regia coeli.

Ne dubita, numquam fractis hæc pectora, numquam

Deficient animis: prius ille ingentia coeli

Atria, desertosque aeternae lucis alumnos

Destituens, Erebum admigret noctemque profundam,

Et Stygiis mutet radiantia lumina flammis.

"In promptu caussa est: superest invicta voluntas,

Immortale odium, vindictae et saeva cupido."

INTERPOLATIONS IN TAUBMAN.

Essay, page 132.

Tune, ait, imperio regere omnia solus; et una

Filius iste tuus, qui se tibi subjicit ultro,

Ac genibus minor ad terram prosternit, et offert

Nescio quos toties animi servilis bonores?

Et tamen aeterni proles aeterna Jehovae

Audit ab aetherea luteaque propagine mundi.

("Scilicet hunc natum dixisti cuncta regentem;

Caelitibus regem cunctis, dominumque supremum")

Huic ego sim supplex? ego? quo praestantior alter

Non agit in superis. Mihi jus dabit ille, suum qui

Dat caput alterius sub jus et vincula legum?

Semideus reget iste polos? reget avia terrae?

Me pressum leviore manu fortuna tenebit?

"Et cogar aeternum duplici servire tyranno?"

Haud ita. Tu solus non polles fortibus ausis.

Non ego sic cecidi, nec sic mea fata premuntur,

Ut nequeam relevare caput, colloque superbum

Excutere imperium. Mihi si mea dextra favebit,

Audeo totius mihi jus promittere mundi.

Essay, page 152.

"Throni, dominationes, principatus, virtutes, potestates," is said to be

a line borrowed by Milton from the title-page of Heywood's Hierarchy of

Angels. But there are more words in Heywood's title; and, according to

his own arrangement of his subjects, they should be read thus:--

"Seraphim, cherubim, throni, potestates, angeli, archangeli,

principatus, dominationes."

These are my interpolations, minutely traced without any arts of

evasion. Whether from the passages that yet remain, any reader will be

convinced of my general assertion, and allow, that Milton had recourse

for assistance to any of the authors whose names I have mentioned, I

shall not now be very diligent to inquire, for I had no particular

pleasure in subverting the reputation of Milton, which I had myself once

endeavoured to exalt[1]; and of which, the foundation had always

remained untouched by me, had not my credit and my interest been

blasted, or thought to be blasted, by the shade which it cast from its

boundless elevation.

About ten years ago, I published an edition of Dr. Johnston's

translation of the Psalms, and having procured from the general assembly

of the church of Scotland, a recommendation of its use to the lower

classes of grammar schools, into which I had begun to introduce it,

though not without much controversy and opposition, I thought it likely

that I should, by annual publications, improve my little fortune, and be

enabled to support myself in freedom from the miseries of indigence. But

Mr. Pope, in his malevolence to Mr. Benson, who had distinguished

himself by his fondness for the same version, destroyed all my hopes by

a distich, in which he places Johnston in a contemptuous comparison with

the author of Paradise Lost[2]. From this time, all my praises of

Johnston became ridiculous, and I was censured, with great freedom, for

forcing upon the schools an author whom Mr. Pope had mentioned only as a

foil to a better poet. On this occasion, it was natural not to be

pleased, and my resentment seeking to discharge itself somewhere, was

unhappily directed against Milton. I resolved to attack his fame, and

found some passages in cursory reading, which gave me hopes of

stigmatizing him as a plagiary. The farther I carried my search, the

more eager I grew for the discovery; and the more my hypothesis was

opposed, the more I was heated with rage. The consequence of my blind

passion, I need not relate; it has, by your detection, become apparent

to mankind. Nor do I mention this provocation, as adequate to the fury

which I have shown, but as a cause of anger, less shameful and

reproachful than fractious malice, personal envy, or national jealousy.

But for the violation of truth, I offer no excuse, because I well know,

that nothing can excuse it. Nor will I aggravate my crime, by

disingenuous palliations. I confess it, I repent it, and resolve, that

my first offence shall be my last. More I cannot perform, and more,

therefore, cannot be required. I entreat the pardon of all men, whom I

have by any means induced to support, to countenance, or patronise my

frauds, of which, I think myself obliged to declare, that not one of my

friends was conscious. I hope to deserve, by better conduct, and more

useful undertakings, that patronage which I have obtained from the most

illustrious and venerable names by misrepresentation and delusion, and

to appear hereafter in such a character, as shall give you no reason to

regret that your name is frequently mentioned with that of,

Reverend Sir,

Your most humble servant,

WILLIAM LAUDER.

December 20, 1750.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Virorum maximus--Joannes Miltonus--Poeta celeberrimus--non Angliae

modo, soli natalis, verum generis humani ornamentum--cujus eximius

liber, Anglicanis versibus conscriptus, vulgo Paradisus amissus,

immortalis illud ingenii monumentum, cum ipsa fere aeternitate

perennaturum est opus!--Hujus memoriam Anglorum primus, post tantum,

proh dolor! ab tanti excessu poetae intervallum, statua eleganti in

loco celeberrimo, coenobio Westmonasteriensi, posita, regum,

principum, antistitum, illustriumque Angliae virorum caemeterio, vir

ornatissimus, Gulielmus Benson prosecutus est.

_Poetarum Scotorum Musae Sacrae, in praefatione, Edinb. 1739._

A character, as high and honourable as ever was bestowed upon him by

the most sanguine of his admirers! and as this was my cool and

sincere opinion of that wonderful man formerly, so I declare it to

be the same still, and ever will be, notwithstanding all appearances

to the contrary, occasioned merely by passion and resentment; which

appear, however, by the Postscript to the Essay, to be so far from

extending to the posterity of Milton, that I recommend his only

remaining descendant, in the warmest terms, to the public.

[2] On two unequal crutches propp'd he[2a] came;

Milton's on this, on that _one_ Johnston's name. Dunciad, Book IV.

[2a] _Benson_. This man endeavoured to raise himself to fame, by

erecting monuments, striking coins, and procuring translations of

Milton; and afterwards continued: by a great passion for Arthur

Johnston, a Scots physician's version of the Psalms, of which he

printed many fine editions. _Notes on the Dunciad_.

No fewer than six different editions of that useful and valuable

book, two in quarto, two in octavo, and two in a lesser form, now

lie, like lumber, in the hand of Mr. Vaillant, bookseller, the

effects of Mr. Pope's ill-natured criticism.

One of these editions in quarto, illustrated with an interpretation

and notes, after the manner of the classic authors _in usum

Delphini_, was, by the worthy editor, anno 1741, inscribed to his

Royal Highness Prince George, as a proper book for his instruction

in principles of piety, as well as knowledge of the Latin tongue,

when he should arrive at due maturity of age. To restore this book

to credit was the cause that induced me to engage in this

disagreeable controversy, rather than any design to depreciate the

just reputation of Milton.

TESTIMONIES CONCERNING MR. LAUDER.

Edinb. May 22, 1734.

These are certifying, that Mr. William Lauder past his course at this

university, to the general satisfaction of these masters, under whom he

studied. That he has applied himself particularly to the study of

humanity[1] ever since. That for several years past, he has taught with

success, students in the humanity class, who were recommended to him by

the professor thereof. And lastly, has taught that class itself, during

the indisposition, and since the death of its late professor: and,

therefore, is, in our opinion, a fit person to teach humanity in any

school or college whatever.

J. GOWDIE, S.S.T.P.

MATT. CRAUFURD, S.S.T. et HIST. EC. PR. REG.

WILLIAM SCOTT, P.P.

ROBERT STUART, PH. NAT. PR.

COL. DRUMMOND, L.G. et P. PR.

COL. MAC-LAURIN, MATH. P. EDIN.

AL. BAYNE, J.P.

CHARLES MACKY, HIST. P.

ALEX. MORRO, ANAT. P.

WILLIAM DAWSON, L.H.P.

[1] So the Latin tongue is called in Scotland, from the Latin phrase,

_classis humaniorum literarum_, the class or form where that language is

taught.

A Letter from the Reverend Mr. Patrick Cuming, one of the Ministers of

Edinburgh, and Regius Professor of Church History in the University

there, to the Reverend Mr. Blair, Rector of the Grammar school at

Dundee.

D. B.

Upon a public advertisement in the newspapers, of the vacancy of a

master's place in your school, Mr. William Lauder, a friend of mine,

proposes to set up for a candidate, and goes over for that purpose. He

has long-taught the Latin with great approbation in this place, and

given such proofs of his mastery in that language, that the best judges

do, upon all occasions, recommend him as one who is qualified in the

best manner. He has taught young boys and young gentlemen, with great

success; nor did I ever hear of any complaint of him from either parents

or children. I beg leave to recommend him to you as my friend; what

friendship you show him, I will look upon as a very great act of

friendship to me, of which he and I will retain the most grateful sense,

if he is so happy as to be preferred. I persuade myself, you will find

him ready at all times to be advised by you, as I have found him. Indeed

if justice had been done him, he should long ago have been advanced for

his merit. I ever am,

D. B.

Your most affectionate, humble servant,

PATRICK CUMING.

Edin. Nov. 13, 1742.

A Letter from Mr. Mac-Laurin, late Professor of Mathematicks in the

University of Edinburgh, to the Reverend Mr. George Blair, Rector of the

Grammar school at Dundee.

SIR,

Though unacquainted, I take the liberty of giving you this trouble, from

the desire I have always had to see Mr. Lauder provided in a manner

suited to his talent. I know him to have made uncommon progress in

classical learning, to have taught it with success, and never heard

there could be any complaint against his method of teaching. I am,

indeed, a stranger to the reasons of his want of success on former

occasions. But after conversing with him, I have ground to hope, that he

will be always advised by you, for whom he professes great esteem, and

will be useful under you. I am,

Sir,

Your most obedient, humble servant,

COLIN MAC-LAURIN.

College of Edinburgh, Nov. 30, 1742.

A Letter from the Authors of the Universal History, to Mr. Lauder.

London, August 12th, 1741.

LEARNED SIR,

When we so gladly took the first opportunity of reviving the memory and

merit of your incomparable Johnston, in the first volume of our

Universal History, our chief aim was to excite some generous Mecenas to

favour the world with a new edition of a poem which we had long since

beheld with no small concern, buried, as it were, by some unaccountable

fatality, into an almost total oblivion; whilst others of that kind,

none of them superior, many vastly inferior to it, rode, unjustly, as we

thought, triumphant over his silent grave. And it is with great

satisfaction that we have seen our endeavours so happily crowned in the

edition you soon after gave of it at Edinburgh, in your learned and

judicious vindication of your excellent author, and more particularly by

the just deference which your learned and pious convocation has been

pleased to pay to that admirable version.

We have had since then, the pleasure to see your worthy example followed

here, in the several beautiful editions of the honourable Mr. Auditor

Benson, with his critical notes upon the work.

It was, indeed, the farthest from our thoughts, to enter into the merit

of the controversy between your two great poets, Johnston and Buchanan;

neither were we so partial to either as not to see, that each had their

shades as well as lights; so that, if the latter has been more happy in

the choice and variety of his metre, it is as plain, that he has given

his poetic genius such an unlimited scope, as has in many cases quite

disfigured the peculiar and inimitable beauty, simplicity, and energy of

the original, which the former, by a more close and judicious version,

has constantly, and surprisingly displayed. Something like this we

ventured to hint in our note upon these two noble versions; to have said

more, would have been inconsistent with our designed brevity.

We have, likewise, since seen what your opponent has writ in praise of

the one, and derogation of the other, and think you have sufficiently

confuted him, and with respect to us, he has been so far from giving us

any cause to retract what we had formerly said, that it has administered

an occasion to us of vindicating it, as we have lately done by some

critical notes on your excellent Johnston, which we communicated soon

after to Mr. A. B. who was pleased to give them a place in his last

edition of him, and which we doubt not you have seen long ago. How they

have been relished among you we know not, but with us they have been

thought sufficient to prove what we have advanced, as well as to direct

the attentive reader to discover new instances of your author's

exactness and elegance, in every page, if not almost in every line.

We gratefully accept of the books, and kind compliments you were pleased

to transmit to us by Mr. Strahan, and had long since returned you our

thanks, but for the many avocations which the great work you know us to

be engaged in doth of necessity bring upon us; obliging us, or some, at

least, of our society, to make, from time to time, an excursion to one

or other of our two learned universities, and consulting them upon the

best method of carrying on this work to the greatest advantage to the

public. This has been some considerable part of our employment for these

twelve months past; and we flatter ourselves, that we have, with their

assistance and approbation, made such considerable improvements on our

original plan, as will scarcely fail of being acceptable to the learned

world. They will shortly appear in print, to convince the world that we

have not been idle, though this sixth volume is like to appear somewhat

later in the year than was usual with our former ones. We shall take the

liberty to transmit some copies of our new plan to you as soon as they

are printed. All we have left to wish with respect to your excellent

countryman and his version is, that it may always meet with such

powerful and impartial advocates, and that it may be as much esteemed by

all candid judges, as it is by,

Learned Sir,

Your sincere wellwishers and humble servants,

The AUTHORS of the Universal History.

A Letter from the learned Mr. Robert Ainsworth, author of the Latin and

English Dictionary, to Mr. Lauder.

LEARNED AND WORTHY SIR,

These wait on you, to thank you for the honour you have done a person,

equally unknown as undeserving, in your valuable present, which I did

not receive till several weeks after it was sent: and since I received

it, my eyes have been so bad, and my hand so unstable, that I have been

forced to defer my duty, as desirous to thank you with my own hand. I

congratulate to your nation the just honour ascribed to it by its

neighbours and more distant countries, in having bred two such excellent

poets as your Buchanan and Johnston, whom to name is to commend; but am

concerned for their honour at home, who being committed together, seem

to me both to suffer a diminution, whilst justice is done to neither.

But at the same time I highly approve your nation's piety in bringing

into your schools sacred instead of profane poesy, and heartily wish

that ours, and all Christian governments, would follow your example

herein. If a mixture of _utile dulci_ be the best composition in poetry,

(which is too evident to need the judgment of the nicest critick in the

art,) surely the _utile_ so transcendently excels in the sacred hymns,

that a Christian must deny his name that doth not acknowledge it: and if

the _dulce_ seem not equally to excel, it must be from a vitiated taste

of those who read them in the original, and, in others, at second-hand,

from translations. For the manner of writing in the east and west is

widely distant, and which to a paraphrast must render his task exceeding

difficult, as requiring a perfect knowledge in two languages, wherein

the idioms and graces of speech, caused by the diversity of their

religion, laws, customs, &c. are as remote as the inhabitants, wherein,

notwithstanding, your poets have succeeded to admiration.

Your main contest seems to me, when stript of persons, whether the easy

or sublime in poesy be preferable; if so,

Non opis est nostrae tantam componere litem:

nor think I it in your case material to be decided. Both these have

their particular excellencies and graces, and youth ought to be taught

wherein (which the matter ought chiefly to determine) the one hath

place, and where the other. Now since the hymns of David, Moses, and

other divine poets, intermixt with them, (infinitely excelling those of

Callimachus, Alcaeus, Sappho, Anacreon, and all others,) abound in both

these virtues, and both your poets are acknowledged to be very happy in

paraphrasing them, it is my opinion, both of them, without giving the

least preference to either, should be read alternately in your schools,

as the tutor shall direct. Pardon, learned Sir, this scribble to my age

and weakness, both which are very great, and command me wherein I may

serve you, as,

Learned Sir,

Your obliged, thankful, and obedient servant,

ROBERT AINSWORTH.

Spitalfields, Sept. 1741.

A Letter from the Authors of the Universal History to Mr. Auditor

Benson.

SIR,

It is with no small pleasure that we see Dr. Johnston's translation of

the Psalms revived in so elegant a manner, and adorned with such a just

and learned display of its inimitable beauties. As we flatter ourselves

that the character we gave it, in our first volume of the Universal

History, did, in some measure, contribute to it, we hope, that in

justice to that great poet, you will permit us to cast the following

mites into your treasury of critical notes on his noble version. We

always thought the palm by far this author's due, as upon many other

accounts, so especially for two excellencies hitherto not taken notice

of by any critic, that we know of, and which we beg leave to transmit to

you, and if you think fit, by you to the public, in the following

observations.

We beg leave to subscribe ourselves,

Sir, &c.

The AUTHORS of the Universal History.

Dr. Isaac Watts, D.D. in his late book, entitled, The Improvement of the

Mind, Lond. 1741, p. 114.

Upon the whole survey of things, it is my opinion, that for almost all

boys who learn this tongue, [the Latin,] it would be much safer to be

taught Latin poesy, as soon, and as far as they can need it, from those

excellent translations of David's Psalms, which are given us by Buchanan

in the various measures of Horace; and the lower classes had better read

Dr. Johnston's translation of those Psalms, another elegant writer of

the Scots nation, instead of Ovid's Epistles; for he has turned the same

Psalms, perhaps, with greater elegancy, into elegiac verse, whereof the

learned W. Benson, esq. has lately published a new edition; and I hear

that these Psalms are honoured with an increasing use in the schools of

Holland and Scotland. A stanza, or a couplet of those writers would now

and then stick upon the minds of youth, and would furnish them

infinitely better with pious and moral thoughts, and do something

towards making them good men and Christians.

An Act of the Commission of the General Assembly of the Kirk of

Scotland, recommending Dr. Arthur Johnston's Latin Paraphrase of the

Psalms of David, &c.

At Edinburgh, 13th of November, 1740, post meridiem.

A Petition having been presented to the late General Assembly, by Mr.

William Lauder, teacher of humanity in Edinburgh, craving, That Dr.

Arthur Johnston's Latin Paraphrase on the Psalms of David, and Mr.

Robert Boyd, of Trochrig, his Hecatombe Christiana, may be recommended

to be taught in all grammar schools; and the assembly having appointed a

committee of their number to take the desire of the foresaid petition

into their consideration, and report to the commission: the said

committee offered their opinion, that the commission should grant the

desire of the said petition, and recommend the said Dr. Johnston's

Paraphrase to be taught in the lower classes of the schools, and Mr.

George Buchanan's Paraphrase on the Psalms, together with Mr. Robert

Boyd of Trochrig's, Hecatombe Christiana in the higher classes of

schools, and humanity-classes in universities. The commission having

heard the said report, unanimously approved thereof, and did, and hereby

do, recommend accordingly.

Extracted by

WILLIAM GRANT[1], Cl. Ecl. Sc.

[1] This honourable gentleman is now his Majesty's Advocate for

Scotland.

A Letter from the learned Mr. Abraham Gronovius, Secretary to the

University of Leyden, to Mr. Lauder, concerning the Adamus Exsul of

Grotius.

Clarissimo Viro, Wilhelmo Laudero, Abrahamus Gronovius, S.P.D.

Postquam binae literae tuae ad me perlatae fuerunt, duas editiones

carminum H. Grotii, viri vere summi, excussi; verum ab utraque

tragoediam, quam Adamum Exsulem inscripsit [Greek: O AEAPY], abesse

deprehendi; neque ullum ejusdem exemplar, quamvis tres[1] editiones

exstare adnotaveram, ullibi offendere potui, adeo ut spe, quam vorabam

desiderio tuo satisfaciendi, me prorsus excidisse existimarem.

Verum nuperrime forte contigit, ut primam tragoediae Grotianae

editionem, Hagae, an. 1601. publicatam, beneficio amicissimi mihi viri

nactus fuerim, ejusque decem priores paginas, quibus, praeter chorum,

actus primus comprehenditur, a Jacobo meo, optimae spei adolescente,

transcriptas nunc ad te mitto. Vale, vir doctissime, meque, ut facis,

amare perge. Dabam Lugd. Bat. A. D, IV. Id. Sept. A. D. MDCCXLVI.

[1] Though Gronovius here mentions only three editions of this noble and

curious performance, the Adamus Exsul of Grotius; yet it appears from

the catalogue of his works, that no fewer than four have been printed,

two in quarto, and two in octavo, in the years 1601, 1608, and 1635; two

having been made, one in quarto, the other in octavo, anno 1601.

A second Letter from the same gentleman to Mr. Lauder, on the same

subject.

Clarissime atque eruditissime vir,

Posteaquam, tandem Jacobus meus residuam partem, quam desiderabas,

tragoediae Grotianae transcripserat, ut ea diutius careres, committere

nolui: quod autem citius illam ad finem perducere non potuerit,

obstiterunt variae occupationes, quibus districtus fuit. Nam, praeter

scholastica studia, quibus strenue incubuit, ipsi componenda erat

oratio, qua rudimenta linguæ Graecae Latinseque deponeret, eamque, quod

vehementer laetor, venuste, et quidem stilo ligato, composuit, et in

magna auditorum corona pronuntiavit. Quod autem ad exemplar ipsum, quo

Adamus Exsul comprehenditur, spectat, id lubens, si meum foret, ad te

perferri curarem, verum illud a clarissimo possessore tanti aestimatur,

ut perrsuasum habeam me istud minime ab ipso impetraturum: et sane sacra

carmina Grotii adeo raro obvia sunt, ut eorundem exemplar apud ipsos

remonstrantium ecclesiastas frustra quaesiverim.

Opus ipsum inscriptum est HENRICO BORBONIO, PRINCIPI CONDAEO; et forma

libri est in quarto, ut nullo pacto literis includi possit. Ceterum, pro

splendidissima et Magnes Britanniae principe, cui merito dicata est,

digna editione Psalmorum, ex versione metrica omnium fere poetarum

principis JONSTONI maximas tibi grates habet agitque Jacobus. Utinam

illustrissimus Bensonus in usum serenissimi principis, atque ingeniorum

in altiora surgentium, eadem forma, lisdemque typis exarari juberet

divinos illos Ciceronis de Officiis libros, dignos sane, quos diurna

nocturnaque manu versaret princeps, a quo aliquando Britannici regni

majestas et populi salus pendebunt! Interim tibi, eruditissime vir,

atque etiam politissimo D. Caveo, pro muneribus literariis, quae per

nobilissimum Lawsonium [1] ad me curastis, magno opere me obstrictum

agnosco, cademque, summa cum voluptate, a me perlecta sunt.

Filius meus te plurimum salutat.

Vale, doctissime vir, meisque verbis D. Caveum saluta, atque amare

perge,

Tuum,

ABRAHAMUM GRONOVIUM.

Dabam Leidis, A. D. xiv. KAL.

Maias, A. D. MDCCXLVII.

[1] The person here meant was the learned and worthy Dr. Isaac Lawson,

late physician to the English army in Flanders; by whom Mr. Gronovius

did me the honour to transmit to me two or three acts of the Adamus

Exsul of Grotius, transcribed by his son, Mr. James. The truth of this

particular consists perfectly well with the knowledge of the Doctor's

brother, John Lawson, esq. counsellor at law; who also had the same

thing lately confirmed to him by Mr. Gronovius himself in Holland.

POSTSCRIPT.

And now my character is placed above all suspicion of fraud by

authentick documents, I will make bold, at last, to pull off the mask,

and declare sincerely the true motive that induced me to interpolate a

few lines into some of the authors quoted by me in my Essay on Milton,

which was this: Knowing the prepossession in favour of Milton, how

deeply it was rooted in many, I was willing to make trial, if the

partial admirers of that author would admit a translation of his own

words to pass for his sense, or exhibit his meaning; which I thought

they would not: nor was I mistaken in my conjecture, forasmuch as

several gentlemen, seemingly persons of judgment and learning, assured

me, they humbly conceived I had not proved my point, and that Milton

might have written as he has done, supposing he had never seen these

authors, or they had never existed. Such is the force of prejudice! This

exactly confirms the judicious observation of the excellent moralist and

poet:

Pravo favore labi mortales solent;

Et pro judicio dum stant erroris sui,

Ad poenitendum rebus manifestis agi.

For, had I designed, as the vindicator of Milton supposes, to impose a

trick on the publick, and procure credit to my assertions by an

imposture, I would never have drawn lines from Hog's translation of

Milton, a book common at every sale, I had almost said, at every stall,

nor ascribed them to authors so easily attained: I would have gone

another way to work, by translating forty or fifty lines, and assigning

them to an author, whose works possibly might not be found till the

world expire at the general conflagration. My imposing, therefore, on

the publick in general, instead of a few obstinate persons, for whose

sake alone the stratagem was designed, is the only thing culpable in my

conduct, for which again I most humbly ask pardon: and that this, and

this only, was, as no other could be, my design, no one, I think, can

doubt, from the account I have just now given; and whether that was so

criminal, as it has been represented, I shall leave every impartial mind

to determine.

AN ACCOUNT OF AN ATTEMPT TO ASCERTAIN THE LONGITUDE[1].

FIRST PRINTED IN THE YEAR 1755.

It is well known to seamen and philosophers, that, after the numerous

improvements produced by the extensive commerce of the later ages, the

great defect in the art of sailing is ignorance of longitude, or of the

distance to which the ship has passed eastward or westward, from any

given meridian.

That navigation might be at length set free from this uncertainty, the

legislative power of this kingdom incited the industry of searchers into

nature, by a large reward proposed to him who should show a practicable

method of finding the longitude at sea; and proportionable recompenses

to those, who, though they should not fully attain this great end, might

yet make such advances and discoveries as should facilitate the work to

those that might succeed them.

By the splendour of this golden encouragement many eyes were dazzled,

which nature never intended to pry into her secrets. By the hope of

sudden riches many understandings were set on work very little

proportioned to their strength, among whom whether mine shall be

numbered, must be left to the candour of posterity: for I, among others,

laid aside the business of my profession, to apply myself to the study

of the longitude, not, indeed, in expectation of the reward due to a

complete discovery; yet, not without hopes that I might be considered as

an assistant to some greater genius, and receive from the justice of my

country the wages offered to an honest and not unsuccessful labourer in

science.

Considering the various means by which this important inquiry has been

pursued, I found that the observation of the eclipses, either of the

primary or secondary planets, being possible but at certain times, could

be of no use to the sailor; that the motions of the moon had been long

attended, however accurately, without any consequence; that other

astronomical observations were difficult and uncertain, with every

advantage of situation, instruments, and knowledge; and were, therefore,

utterly impracticable to the sailor, tost upon the water, ill provided

with instruments, and not very skilful in their application. The hope of

an accurate clock or time-keeper is more specious. But when I began

these studies, no movements had yet been made that were not evidently

unaccurate and uncertain: and even of the mechanical labours which I now

hear so loudly celebrated, when I consider the obstruction of movements

by friction, the waste of their parts by attrition, the various pressure

of the atmosphere, the effects of different effluvia upon metals, the

power of heat and cold upon all matter, the changes of gravitation and

the hazard of concussion, I cannot but fear that they will supply the

world with another instance of fruitless ingenuity, though, I hope, they

will not leave upon this country the reproach of unrewarded diligence. I

saw, therefore, nothing on which I could fix with probability of

success, but the magnetical needle, an instrument easily portable, and

little subject to accidental injuries, with which the sailor has had a

long acquaintance, which he will willingly study, and can easily

consult. The magnetick needle, from the year 1300, when it is generally

supposed to have been first applied by Flavio Gioia, of Amalfi, to the

seaman's use, seems to have been long thought to point exactly to the

north and south by the navigators of those times; who sailing commonly

on the calm Mediterranean, or making only short voyages, had no need of

very accurate observations; and who, if they ever transiently observed

any deviations from the meridian, either ascribed them to some

extrinsick and accidental cause, or willingly neglected what it was not

necessary to understand.

But when the discovery of the new world turned the attention of mankind

upon the naval sciences, and long courses required greater niceties of

practice, the variation of the needle soon became observable, and was

recorded, in 1500, by Sebastian Cabot, a Portuguese, who, at the expense

of the king of England, discovered the northern coasts of America.

As the next century was a time of naval adventures, it might be expected

that the variation once observed, should have been well studied: yet it

seems to have been little heeded; for it was supposed to be constant,

and always the same in the same place, till, in 1625, Gellibrand noted

its changes, and published his observations.

From this time the philosophical world had a new subject of speculation,

and the students of magnetism employed their researches upon the gradual

changes of the needle's direction, or the variations of the variation,

which have hitherto appeared so desultory and capricious, as to elude

all the schemes which the most fanciful of the philosophical dreamers

could devise for its explication. Any system that could have united

these tormenting diversities, they seem inclined to have received, and

would have contentedly numbered the revolutions of a central magnet,

with very little concern about its existence, could they have assigned

it any motion, or vicissitude of motions, which would have corresponded

with the changes of the needle.

Yet upon this secret property of magnetism I ventured to build my hopes

of ascertaining the longitude at sea. I found it undeniably certain that

the needle varies its direction in a course eastward or westward between

any assignable parallels of latitude: and, supposing nature to be in

this, as in all other operations, uniform and consistent, I doubted not

but the variation proceeded in some established method, though, perhaps,

too abstruse and complicated for human comprehension.

This difficulty, however, was to be encountered; and by close and steady

perseverance of attention I at last subdued, or thought myself to have

subdued it: having formed a regular system in which all the phenomena

seemed to be reconciled; and, being able, from the variation in places

where it is known, to trace it to those where it is unknown; or from the

past to predict the future; and, consequently, knowing the latitude and

variation, to assign the true longitude of any place.

With this system I came to London, where, having laid my proposals

before a number of ingenious gentlemen, it was agreed that during the

time required to the completion of my experiments, I should be supported

by a joint subscription to be repaid out of the reward, to which they

concluded me entitled. Among the subscribers, was Mr. Rowley, the

memorable constructor of the orrery; and among my favourers was the lord

Piesley, a title not unknown among magnetical philosophers. I frequently

showed, upon a globe of brass, experiments by which my system was

confirmed, at the house of Mr. Rowley, where the learned and curious of

that time generally assembled.

At this time great expectations were raised by Mr. Whiston, of

ascertaining the longitude by the inclination of the needle, which he

supposed to increase or diminish regularly. With this learned man I had

many conferences, in which I endeavoured to evince what he has at last

confessed in the narrative of his life, the uncertainty and inefficacy

of his method.

About the year 1729, my subscribers explained my pretensions to the

lords of the Admiralty, and the lord Torrington declared my claim just

to the reward assigned, in the last clause of the act, to those who

should make discoveries conducive to the perfection of the art of

sailing. This he pressed with so much warmth, that the commissioners

agreed to lay my tables before Sir Isaac Newton, who excused himself, by

reason of his age, from a regular examination: but when he was informed

that I held the variation at London to be still increasing; which he and

the other philosophers, his pupils, thought to be then stationary, and

on the point of regression, he declared that he believed my system

visionary. I did not much murmur to be for a time overborne by that

mighty name, even when I believed that the name only was against me: and

I have lived till I am able to produce, in my favour, the testimony of

time, the inflexible enemy of false hypotheses; the only testimony which

it becomes human understanding to oppose to the authority of Newton.

My notions have, indeed, been since treated with equal superciliousness

by those who have not the same title to confidence of decision; men who,

though, perhaps, very learned in their own studies, have had little

acquaintance with mine. Yet even this may be borne far better than the

petulance of boys, whom I have seen shoot up into philosophers by

experiments which I have long since made and neglected, and by

improvements which I have so long transferred into my ordinary practice,

that I cannot remember when I was without them.

When Sir Isaac Newton had declined the office assigned him, it was given

to Mr. Molineux, one of the commissioners of the Admiralty, who engaged

in it with no great inclination to favour me; but, however, thought one

of the instruments, which, to confirm my own opinion, and to confute Mr.

Whiston's, I had exhibited to the Admiralty, so curious or useful, that

he surreptitiously copied it on paper, and clandestinely endeavoured to

have it imitated by a workman for his own use.

This treatment naturally produced remonstrances and altercations, which,

indeed, did not continue long, for Mr. Molineux died soon afterwards;

and my proposals were for a time forgotten.

I will not, however, accuse him of designing to condemn me, without a

trial; for he demanded a portion of my tables to be tried in a voyage to

America, which I then thought I had reason to refuse him, not yet

knowing how difficult it was to obtain, on any terms, an actual

examination.

About this time the theory of Dr. Halley was the chief subject of

mathematical conversation; and though I could not but consider him as

too much a rival to be appealed to as a judge, yet his reputation

determined me to solicit his acquaintance and hazard his opinion. I was

introduced to him by Mr. Lowthorp and Dr. Desaguliers, and put my tables

into his hands; which, after having had them about twenty days under

consideration, he returned in the presence of the learned Mr. Machin,

and many other skilful men, with an entreaty that I would publish them

speedily; for I should do infinite service to mankind.

It is one of the melancholy pleasures of an old man, to recollect the

kindness of friends, whose kindness he shall experience no more. I have

now none left to favour my studies; and, therefore, naturally turn my

thoughts on those by whom I was favoured in better days: and I hope the

vanity of age may be forgiven, when I declare that I can boast among my

friends, almost every name of my time that is now remembered: and that,

in that great period of mathematical competition, scarce any man failed

to appear as my defender, who did not appear as my antagonist.

By these friends I was encouraged to exhibit to the Royal Society, an

ocular proof of the reasonableness of my theory by a sphere of iron, on

which a small compass moved in various directions, exhibiting no

imperfect system of magnetical attraction. The experiment was shown by

Mr. Hawkesbee, and the explanation, with which it was accompanied, was

read by Dr. Mortimer. I received the thanks of the society; and was

solicited to reposit my theory, properly sealed and attested, among

their archives, for the information of posterity. I am informed, that

this whole transaction is recorded in their minutes.

After this I withdrew from publick notice, and applied myself wholly to

the continuation of my experiments, the confirmation of my system, and

the completion of my tables, with no other companion than Mr. Gray, who

shared all my studies and amusements, and used to repay my

communications of magnetism, with his discoveries in electricity. Thus I

proceeded with incessant diligence; and, perhaps, in the zeal of

inquiry, did not sufficiently reflect on the silent encroachments of

time, or remember, that no man is in more danger of doing little, than

he who flatters himself with abilities to do all. When I was forced out

of my retirement, I came loaded with the infirmities of age, to struggle

with the difficulties of a narrow fortune; cut off by the blindness of

my daughter from the only assistance which I ever had; deprived by time

of my patron and friends; a kind of stranger in a new world, where

curiosity is now diverted to other objects, and where, having no means

of ingratiating my labours, I stand the single votary of an obsolete

science, the scoff of puny pupils of puny philosophers.

In this state of dereliction and depression, I have bequeathed to

posterity the following table; which, if time shall verify my

conjectures, will show that the variation was once known; and that

mankind had once within their reach an easy method of discovering the

longitude.

I will not, however, engage to maintain, that all my numbers are

theoretically and minutely exact: I have not endeavoured at such degrees

of accuracy as only distract inquiry without benefiting practice. The

quantity of the variation has been settled partly by instruments, and

partly by computation: instruments must always partake of the

imperfection of the eyes and hands of those that make, and of those that

use them: and computation, till it has been rectified by experiment, is

always in danger of some omission in the premises, or some errour in the

deduction.

It must be observed, in the use of this table, that though I name

particular cities, for the sake of exciting attention, yet the tables

are adjusted only to longitude and latitude. Thus when I predict that,

at Prague, the variation will in the year 1800 be 24-1/4 W. I intend to

say, that it will be such, if Prague be, as I-have placed it, after the

best geographers in longitude, 14 30'. E. latitude 50 40'. but that this

is its true situation I cannot be certain. The latitude of many places

is unknown, and the longitude is known of very few; and even those who

are unacquainted with science will be convinced that it is not easily to

be found, when they are told how many degrees Dr. Halley, and the French

mathematicians, place the cape of Good Hope distant from each other.

Those who would pursue this inquiry with philosophical nicety, must,

likewise, procure better needles than those commonly in use. The needle,

which, after long experience, I recommend to mariners, must be of pure

steel, the spines and the cap of one piece, the whole length three

inches, each spine containing four grains and a half of steel, and the

cap thirteen grains and a half.

The common needles are so ill formed, or so unskilfully suspended, that

they are affected by many causes besides magnetism; and, among other

inconveniencies, have given occasion to the idle dream of a horary

variation.

I doubt not but particular places may produce exceptions to my system.

There may be, in many parts of the earth, bodies which obstruct or

intercept the general influence of magnetism; but those interruptions do

not infringe the theory. It is allowed, that water will run down a

declivity, though sometimes a strong wind may force it upwards. It is

granted, that the sun gives light at noon, though, in certain

conjunctions, it may suffer an eclipse.

Those causes, whatever they are, that interrupt the course of the

magnetical powers, are least likely to be found in the great ocean, when

the earth, with all its minerals, is secluded from the compass by the

vast body of uniform water. So that this method of finding the

longitude, with a happy contrariety to all others, is most easy and

practicable at sea.

This method, therefore, I recommend to the study and prosecution of the

sailor and philosopher; and the appendant specimen I exhibit to the

candid examination of the maritime nations, as a specimen of a general

table, showing the variation at all times and places for the whole

revolution of the magnetick poles, which I have long ago begun, and,

with just encouragement, should have long ago completed.

[1] An account of an attempt to ascertain the longitude at sea, by an

exact theory of the variation of the magnetical needle; with a table of

variations at the most remarkable cities in Europe, from the year 1660

to 1860. By Zachariah Williams.

CONSIDERATIONS ON THE

PLANS OFFERED FOR THE CONSTRUCTION

OF BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.

In three letters, to the printer of the Gazetteer.

LETTER I.

SIR, Dec. 1, 1759.

The plans which have been offered by different architects, of different

reputation and abilities, for the construction of the bridge intended to

be built at Blackfriars, are, by the rejection of the greater part, now

reduced to a small number; in which small number, three are supposed to

be much superiour to the rest; so that only three architects are now

properly competitors for the honour of this great employment; by two of

whom are proposed semicircular, and by the other elliptical arches.

The question is, therefore, whether an elliptical or semicircular arch

is to be preferred?

The first excellence of a bridge, built for commerce, over a large

river, is strength; for a bridge which cannot stand, however beautiful,

will boast its beauty but a little while: the stronger arch is,

therefore, to be preferred, and much more to be preferred, if, with

greater strength, it has greater beauty.

Those who are acquainted with the mathematical principles of

architecture, are not many; and yet fewer are they who will, upon any

single occasion, endure any laborious stretch of thought, or harass

their minds with unaccustomed investigations. We shall, therefore,

attempt to show the weakness of the elliptical arch, by arguments which

appeal simply to common reason, and which will yet stand the test of

geometrical examination.

All arches have a certain degree of weakness. No hollow building can be

equally strong with a solid mass, of which every upper part presses

perpendicularly upon the lower. Any weight laid upon the top of an arch,

has a tendency to force that top into the vacuity below; and the arch,

thus loaded on the top, stands only because the stones that form it,

being wider in the upper than in the lower parts, that part that fills a

wider space cannot fall through a space less wide; but the force which,

laid upon a flat, would press directly downwards, is dispersed each way

in a lateral direction, as the parts of a beam are pushed out to the

right and left by a wedge driven between them. In proportion as the

stones are wider at the top than at the bottom, they can less easily be

forced downwards, and, as their lateral surfaces tend more from the

centre to each side, to so much more is the pressure directed laterally

towards the piers, and so much less perpendicularly towards the vacuity.

Upon this plain principle the semicircular arch may be demonstrated to

excel in strength the elliptical arch, which, approaching nearer to a

straight line, must be constructed with stones whose diminution

downwards is very little, and of which the pressure is almost

perpendicular.

It has yet been sometimes asserted by hardy ignorance, that the

elliptical arch is stronger than the semicircular; or in other terms,

that any mass is more strongly supported the less it rests upon the

supporters. If the elliptical arch be equally strong with the

semicircular; that is, if an arch, by approaching to a straight line,

loses none of its stability, it will follow, that all arcuation is

useless, and that the bridge may at last, without any inconvenience,

consist of stone laid in straight lines from pillar to pillar. But if a

straight line will bear no weight, which is evident at the first view,

it is plain, likewise, that an ellipsis will bear very little; and that,

as the arch is more curved, its strength is increased.

Having thus evinced the superiour strength of the semicircular arch, we

have sufficiently proved, that it ought to be preferred; but to leave no

objection unprevented, we think it proper, likewise, to observe, that

the elliptical arch must always appear to want elevation and dignity;

and that if beauty be to be determined by suffrages, the elliptical arch

will have little to boast, since the only bridge of that kind has now

stood two hundred years without imitation.

If, in opposition to these arguments, and in defiance, at once, of right

reason and general authority, the elliptical arch should at last be

chosen, what will the world believe, than that some other motive than

reason influenced the determination? And some degree of partiality

cannot but be suspected by him, who has been told that one of the judges

appointed to decide this question, is Mr. M--ll--r, who, having by

ignorance, or thoughtlessness, already preferred the elliptical arch,

will, probably, think himself obliged to maintain his own judgment,

though his opinion will avail but little with the publick, when it is

known that Mr. S--ps--n declares it to be false.

He that, in the list of the committee chosen for the superintendency of

the bridge, reads many of the most illustrious names of this great city,

will hope that the greater number will have more reverence for the

opinion of posterity, than to disgrace themselves, and the metropolis of

the kingdom, in compliance with any man, who, instead of voting, aspires

to dictate, perhaps, without any claim to such superiority, either by

greatness of birth, dignity of employment, extent of knowledge, or

largeness of fortune.

LETTER II.

SIR, Dec. 8, 1759.

In questions of general concern, there is no law of government, or rule

of decency, that forbids open examination and publick discussion. I

shall, therefore, not betray, by a mean apology, that right which no man

has power, and, I suppose, no wise man has desire to refuse me; but

shall consider the letter published by you last Friday, in defence of

Mr. M----'s[1] design for a new bridge.

Mr. M---- proposes elliptical arches. It has been objected, that

elliptical arches are weak; and, therefore, improper for a bridge of

commerce, in a country where greater weights are ordinarily carried by

land, than, perhaps, in any other part of the world. That there is an

elliptical bridge at Florence is allowed, but the objectors maintain,

that its stability is so much doubted, that carts are not permitted to

pass over it.

To this no answer is made, but that it was built for coaches; and if it

had been built for carts, it would have been made stronger: thus all the

controvertists agree, that the bridge is too weak for carts; and it is

of little importance, whether carts are prohibited, because the bridge

is weak, or whether the architect, knowing that carts were prohibited,

voluntarily constructed a weak bridge. The instability of the elliptical

arch has been sufficiently proved by argument, and Ammanuti's attempt

has proved it by example.

The iron rail, whether gilt or varnished, appears to me unworthy of

debate. I suppose every judicious eye will discern it to be minute and

trifling, equally unfit to make a part of a great design, whatever be

its colour. I shall only observe how little the writer understands his

own positions, when he recommends it to be cast in whole pieces from

pier to pier. That iron forged is stronger than iron cast, every smith

can inform him; and if it be cast in large pieces, the fracture of a

single bar must be repaired by a new piece.