No More Learning

] man, therefore, might become a. fair purchaser of tithes,
and -of exemption from tithes. :By the statute of Elizabeth, the lands took the same
course, (I will not inquire by what justice, good policy, and decency,) but they passed into lay lands, became the object of purchases for valuable consideration, and of marriage settlements.
Now, if tithes might come to a layman, land in
the hands of a layman might be also tithe-free. So
that there was an object which a layman might be
? ? ? ? 142 SPEECH ON DORMANT CLAIMS OF THE CHURCH. come seized of equitably and bond fide; there was something on which a prescription might attach, the end of which is, to secure the natural well-meaning ignorance of men, and to: secure property by the best of all principles, continuance.
I have therefore shown that a layman may be equitably seized of Church lands, - 2. of tithes, -3. of
exemption from tithes; and you will not contend
that there should be no prescription. Will you say
that the alienations. made before the 11th of Elizabeth shall not stand good? I do not mean anything against the Church, her dignities, her honors, her privileges, or her possessions. I should wish even to enlarge them all: not
-that the Church of England is incompetently endowed. This is to take nothing from her but the power of making herself odious. If she be secure
herself, she can have no objection to the security of
others. For I hope she is secure from lay-bigotry
and anti-priestcraft, for certainly such things there
are. I heartily wish to see the Church secure in
such possessions as will not only enable her ministers to preach tlhe Gospel with ease, but of such a
kind as will enable them to preach it with its full
effect, so that the pastor shall- not have the inauspicious appearance of a tax-gatherer, -such a maintenance as is compatible with the civil prosperity and improvement of their country.
? ? ? ? HI N 1 S
FOR
AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA,
? ? ? ? NOTE.
THESE Hints appear to have been first thoughts, which were probably intended to be amplified and connected, and so worked up into a regular dissertation. . No date appears of the time
when they were written, but it was probably before the year 1765
? ? ? ? HI NTS
FOR AN ESSAY ON THEJ DRAMA.
1T is generally observed that no species of writing
is so difficult as the dramatic. It must, indeed,
appear so, were we to consider it upon one side only. .
It is a dialogue, or species of composition which ini
itself requires all the mastery of a complete writer'
with grace and spirit to support. We may add, that
it must have a fable, too, which necessarily requires
invention, one of the rarest qualities of the human
mind. It would surprise us, if we were to examine
the thing critically, how few good original stories
there are in the world. The most celebrated borrow from each other, and are content with some new turn, some corrective, addition, or embellishment. Many of the most celebrated writers in that way can claim no other merit. I do not think La
Fontaine has one original story. And if we pursue him to those who were his originals, the Italian writers of tales and novels, we shall find most even
of them drawing from antiquity, or borrowing from
the Eastern world, or adopting and decorating the
little popular stories they found current and traditionary in their country. Sometimes they laid the foundation of their tale in real fact. Even after all
their borrowing from so many funds', they are still
far from opulent. How few stories has Boccace.
VOL. VII. 10
? ? ? ? 146 HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
which are tolerable, and how much fewer are there
which' you would desire to read twice! But this
general difficulty is greatly increased, when we come
to the drama. Here a fable is essential, -- a fable
which is to be conducted With rapidity, clearness,
consistency, and surprise, without any, or certainly
with very little, aid from narrative. This is the reason tliat generally nothing is more dull in telling
than the plot of a play. It is seldom or never a
good story in itself; and in this particular, some of,the greatest writers, both in ancient and modern
theatres, have failed in the most miserable manner.
It is well a play has still so many requisites to
complete it, that, though the writer should not succeed in these particulars, and therefore should be
so far from perfection, there are still enough left
in which he may please, at less expense of labor
to himself, and perhaps, too, with more real advantage to his auditory. It is, indeed, very difficult happily to excite thie passions and draw the characters of men; but our nature leads us more directly to
such paintings than to the invention of a story. We
are imitative animals; and we are more naturally
led to imitate the exertions of character and passion
than to observe and describe a series of events, and
to discover those relations and dependencies in them
which will please. Nothing can be more rare than
this quality. Herein, as I believe, consists the difference between the inventive and the descriptive
genius. By the inventive genius I mean the creator
of agreeable facts and incidents; by the descriptive,
the delineator of characters, manners, and passions.
Imitation calls us to this;'we are in some cases almost forced to it, and it is'comparatively easy. More
? ? ? ? HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA. 147 observethe charactersof men than the order of, t. h. Xgwe are fomed yweNrture and
by that sympathy from which we are so strOigiy ed
to take a part in the passions and manners of our fe. llow-men; the other is, as. it. w. ere. ,rfororeign Fa$x~. trinsima- Neither, indeed, can anything be, done,
even in this, without invention; but it is obvious
that this invention is of a kind altogether different
from the former. However, though the more sublime genius and the greatest art are required for
the former, yet the latter, as it is more common
and more easy, so it is more useful, and administers more directly to the great business of life. ; If the drama requires such a combination of talents, the most common of which is very rarely to be found and difficult to be exerted, it is not surprising, at a time when almost all kinds of poetry:
are. cultivated with little success, to find that we
have done no great matters in this. Many causes
may be assigned for our present weakness in that
oldest and most excellent branch of philosophy, poetical learning, and particularly in what regards the
theatre. I shall here only consider what appears
to me to be one of these causes: I mean the wrong
notion. of the art itself, which begins to grow fashionable, especially among people of an elegant turn
of mind with a weak understanding; and these are
they that form the great body of the idle part of:every polite and civilized nation. The prevailing. system of that class of mankind is indolence. This
gives them an aversion to all strong movements.
It. infuses a delicacy of sentiment, which, when it
is real, and accompanied with a justness of thoughtis'an amiable. quality, and. favorable. to the fine arts;
? ? ? ? 148 HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
but when it comes to make the whole of the character, it injures things more excellent than those which it improves, and degenerates into a false refinement, which diffuses a languor and breathes a frivolous air over everything which it can influence.
Having differed in my opinion about dramatic
composition, and particularly in regard to comedy,
with a gentleman for whose character and talents I
have a very high respect, I thought myself obliged,
on account of that difference, to a new and more
exact examination of the grounds upon which I had
formed my opinions. I thought it would be impossible to come to any clear and definite idea on this subject, without remounting to the natural passions
or dispositions of men, which first gave rise to this
species of writing; for from these alone its nature,
its limits, and its true character can be determined.
There are but four oeneral- principles which call
move men to interest themselves in the characters of
others, and they may be classed under the heads of
good and ill opinion: on the side of the first may
be classed admiration an d lovl ehaaod rt
on the other. And these have accordingly divided
poetry into two very different kinds,- the panegyrical, and the satirical; under one of which heads all genue poe ns (r I do not reckon the didactic
as poetry, in the strictness of speech).
Without question, the subject of all poetry was
originally direct and personal. Fictitious character
is a refinement, and comparatively modern; for abstraction is in its nature slow, and always follows the progress of philosophy. Men had always friends and
enemies before they knew the exact nature of vice
? ? ? ? HINTS FOR AN ESSAY -ON. -THE DRAMA. 149
and virtue; they naturally, and with their best powers of eloquence, whether in prose or verse, magnified and set off the -one, vilified and traduced the other.
The first species of composition in either way was
probably some general, indefinite topic of praise or
blame, expressed in a song or hymn, which is the
most common and simple kind of panegyric and satire. But as nothing tended to set their hero or
subject in a more forcible light than some story to
their advantage or prejudice, they soon introduced
a narrative, and thus improved the composition into
a greater variety of pleasure to the hearer, and to a
more forcible instrument of honor or disgrace to the
subject.
It is natural with men, when they relate any action with:any degree of warmth, to represent the
parties to it talking as the occasion requires; and
this produces that mixed species of poetry, composed
of narrative and dialogue, which is very universal
in all languages, and of which Homer is the noblest
example in any. This mixed kind of poetry seems
also to be most perfect, as it takes in a variety
of situations, circumstances, reflections, and descriptions, which must be rejected on a more limited
plan.
It must be equally obvious, that men, in relating
a story in a forcible manner, do very frequently
mimic the looks, gesture, and voice of the person
concerned, and for the time, as it were, put themselves into his place. This gave the hint to the
drama, or acting; and observing the powerful effect
of this in public exhibitions. . . .
But the drama, the most artificial and complicated
? ? ? ? :150,HINTS FOR AN ESSAY -. ON THE DRAMA.
~of all the'poetical machines, was not yet- brouglht
to perfection; and like those animals which change'their state, some parts of the old narrative still'adhered. It still had a chorus, it still had a prologue:to explain the design; and the perfect drama, an'automaton supported and moved without any foreign help, was formed late and gradually. Nay, there are still several parts of the world in which
it is not, and probably never may be, formed. The'Chinese drama.
The drama, being at. length formed, naturally ad-'iered to the first division of poetry, the satirical and
panegyrical, which made tragedy and comedy.
Men, i'a appl a udea
agedv celebrated the dead.
Great men are n ever sufficiently shown but in
struggles. Tragedy turned, therefore, on melancholy
and affecting subjects, - a sort of threnodia, - its
-passions, therefore, admiratio trror, andpity. . Comedy was satirical. Satire is best on the li. Jag. .
It was soon found that the best way to depress
an hated character was to turn it into ridicule; and
therefore the greater vices, which in the beginning
-were lashed, gave place to the contemptible. Its passion, therefore, became ridicule'.
Every writing must have its characteristic pas-'sion. Wlat is that of comedy,'if not- ridicule?
Comedy, therefore,' is a satirical49oemne
mitg an action ca-r e on'by- sdialogue,, excite
liaughter by describing ludicrous chalra:. e-e-See
Aristotle. :;'e;'i';erefore, to preserve this definition, the ridicule
must be either in the action or characters, or both.
iAn action' may be'ludicrous, independent of the
? ? ? ? HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE -DRAMA. 151[
characters,'by the ludicrous situations and accidents:
which may happen to the characters.
But the action'is not so important as the characters. We see this every day upon the stage.
What are the characters fit ifor comedy?
It appears that no part of human life which may
be subject to ridicule is exempted'from comedy; for
wherever mllen run' into the absurd, whether highl
or low, they may be the subject of satire, and consequently of comedy. Indeed, some characters, as kings, are exempted through decency others might
be too insignificant. Some are of opinion that persons in better life are so polished that their true characters and' the real bent of their humor cannot
appear. For my own part, I cannot give entire
credit to this remark. For, in the first place, I be'
lieve that good-breeding is not so universal or strong
in any part of. life as to overrule the real characters
and strong passions of -such men as would be proper
objects of the drama. Secondly, it is not the ordinary, commonplace discourse of assemblies that is to be represented in comedy,:The parties are to be put
in situations in which their passions are roused, and
their real characters called forth; and if their situations are judiciously adapted to the- characters, there is no doubt but they will appear in all their force,
choose what situation of life' you please. -Let the
politest' man alive game, and feel: at loss; let this
be his character; and his politeness will: never hide
it, nay, it will put it forward with greater violence,
and make a more forcible contrast. *
But genteel comedy puts these- characters,: not in
their passionate, -but in their genteel light. ;' makes
~* Sic-in:MS.
? ? ? ? 152 HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
elegant cold conversation, and virtuous personages. *
Such sort of pictures disagreeable.
Virtue and oliteness not proper for comedy
they have too much or no movement.
They are not good in tragedy, much less here.
The greatervirtues, fortitude, justice, and the like,
too serious and sublime.
iTf Is not every story, every character, every incident, but those only which answer their end. - Painting of artificial things not good; a thing being useful does not'therefore make it most pleasing in picture. - Natural manners, good and. bad. - Sentiment. In common affairs and common life, virtuous sentiments are not even the character of virtuous men; we cannot bear these sentiments, but when they are pressed out, as it were, by great exigencies,
and a certain contention which is above the general
style of comedy.
The first character of propriety the lawsuit possesses in all eminent degree. The plot of the play is
an iniquitous suit; there can be no fitter persons to
be concerned in the active part of it than low, necessitous lawyers of bad character, and profligates of
desperate fortune. On the other hand, in the passive part, if an honest and virtuous man had been
made the object of their designs, or a weak man. of
good intentions, every successful step they should
take against: him ought rather to fill the audience
with horror than pleasure and mirth; and if in the
conclusion their plots should be baffled, even this
would come too late to prevent that ill impression.
But in the lawsuit this is admirably avoided: for the
character chosen: is a rich, avaricious usurer:; the
* Sic in MS.
? ? ? ? HINTS FOR' AN ESSAY ON TIE DRAMA. 158
pecuniary distresses of such a person can never hbe
looked upon with horror; and if he should be even
handled unjustly, we always wait his delivery with
patience.
Now with regard to the display of the character,
which is the essential part of the plot, nothing can
be more finely imagined than to draw a miser in
law. If you draw him inclined to love man Jar1a -
riage, yuebatto n li neae
in some measure, as Moliere has done. Expenses
oftn may easily avoid.
If you draw him
in law, to advance brings expense, to draw back
brings expense; and the character is tortured and
brought out at every moment.
A sort of notion has prevailed that a comedy might
subsist without humor. It is an idle disquisition,
whether a story in private life, represented in dia,
logues, may not be carried on with some degree of
merit without humor. It may unquestionably; but
what shines chiefly in comedy, the painting the manners of life, must be in a great measure wanting. A character which has nothing extravagant, wrong, or
singular in it can affect but very little: and this is
what makes Aristotle draw the great line of distinction between tragedy and comedy. 'Ev, avrT 8' T e&aoopt Kcab X Tpa7yea, &c. Arist. Poet. -Ch. II.
There is not a more absurd mistake than that
whatever may not unnaturally happen in an action
is of course to be admitted into every painting of it.
In Nature, the great and the little, the serious and
the ludicrous, things the most disproportionate the
one to the other, are frequently huddled together
in much confusion. And what then. ? It is the
? ? ? ? :154. . HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA".
business of Art first to choose some determinate
end and purpose, and then to select those parts. of
Nature, and those only, which conduce to that end,
avoiding with most religious exactness the intermixture of anything which would contradict it. Else
the whole idea of propriety, that is, the only distinction between the just and chimerical in the arts,
would be utterly lost. An hero eats, drinks, and;sleeps, like other men; but to introduce such scenes
on the stage, because they are natural, would be ridiculous. And'why,? Because they have nothing
to do with the end for which the play is written.
The design of a piece might be utterly destroyed by
the most natural incidents in the world. Boileau
has somewhere criticized with what surely is a very
just severity on Ariosto, for. introducing a ludicrous
-tale from his host to one of the principal persons
of his poem, though the' story has great merit in
its way. Indeed, that famous piece is so monstrous
and extravagant in all its parts that one is not
particularly shocked with this indecorum. But, as
Boileau has observed, if Virgil had introduced'
~::neas listening to a bawdy story from his host,
~what an episode had. this formed in that divine
poem! Suppose, instead of 2Eneas, he had represented the impious Mezentius as entertaining himself in that manner; such a thing would not have be'en without probability; but it would have clashed
with the very first principles of taste, and, I would
say, of common sense.
I have heard of a celebrated picture of the Last
Supper, -and if I do not mistake, it is said to be the
work of somne of the Flemish masters: in this picture
all the personages. : are drawn in a manner suitable
? ? ? ? HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON TUitL DItMA. : 155'to the solemnity of the'occasion; but the painter has
filled the void under the table with a dog gnawing
bones. Who does lnot see the possibility of such an
incident, and, at the same time, the absurdity of introducing it on such an occasion? Innumerable such -cases might be stated. It is not the incompatibility
or agreeableness of incidents, characters, or sentiments with the probable in fact, but with propriety ill design, that admits or excludes them from a place in'any composition. We may as well urge that stones, sand, clay, and metals lie in a certain manner in the
earth, as a reasoin for building with these materials
and in that manner, as for writing according to the
accidental disposition of characters in Nature. I'have, I am afraid, been longer than it might seem necessary in refuting such a notion; but such authority can only be opposed by a good deal of reason. We are not to forget that a play is, or ought to be,
a' very short composition; that, if one passion or disposition is to be wrought up with tolerable success, I believe it is as much as can in any reason be expected.
If there be scenes of distress and scenes of humor,
they must either be in a double or single plot. If
there be a double plot, there are in fact two. If they
be- in checkered scenes of serious and comic, you are
obliged continually to break both the thread of the
story and the continuity of the passion, - if in the
same scene, as Mrs. V. seems to recommend, it is
needless to observe how absurd the mixture must be,
and how little adapted to answer the genuine end of
any passion. It is odd to observe the progress of bad
taste: for this mixed passion being universally proscribed in the regions of tragedy, it has taken refuge and shelter in comedy, where it seems firmly estab
? ? ? ? 156 HINTS FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
lished, though no reason can be assigned why we may
not laugh in the one as well as weep in the other.
The true reason of this mixture is to'be sought for in
the manners which are prevalent amongst a people.
It has become very fashionable to affect delicacy, ten-derness of heart, and fine feeling, and to shun all imputation of rusticity. Much mirth is very foreign
to this character; they have introduced, therefore, a
sort of neutral writing.
Now as to characters, they have dealt in them as
in the passions. There are none but lords and footmen. One objection to characters in high life is, that almost all wants, and a thousand happy circumstances arising from them, being removed from it, their whole mode of life is too artificial, and not so fit for
painting; and the contrary opinion has arisen from
a mistake, that whatever has merit in the reality
necessarily must have it in the representation. I
have observed that persons, and especially women, in
lower life, and of no breeding, are fond of such representations. It seems like introducing them into good company, and the honor compensates the dulness of the entertainment.
Fashionable -manners being fluctuating is another
reason for not choosing them. - Sensible comedy, -
talking sense a dull thing-. . . .
? ? ? ? AN ESSAY
TOWARDS AN
ABRIDGMENT OF THE ENGLISH HISTORY. IN THREE BOOKS.
? ? ? ? AN
ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
CAUSES OF THE CONNECTION BETWEEN-THE ROMANS AND
BRITONS. - CiESiAR'S TWO INVASIONS OF BRITAIN.
N order to obtain a clear notion of the state of
Europe before the universal prevalence of the
Roman power, the whole region is to be divided into
two principal parts, which we shall call Northern and
Southern Europe. . The northern part is everywhere
separated from the southern by immense and continued chains of mountains. From Greece it is
divided by Mount Haemus; from Spain by the Pyrenees; from Italy by. the Alps. This division is not
made by an arbitrary or. casual distribution of countries. The limits are marked out by Nature, and in these early ages were yet further distinguished by a
considerable difference in the manners and usages
of the nations they divided.
If we turn our eyes to the northward of these
boundaries, a vast mass of solid continent lies before us, stretched out from the remotest shore of Tartary quite to the Atlantic Ocean. A line drawn
through this extent, from east to west, would pass
over the greatest body of unbroken land that is any-. where known upon the globe. This tract, in a course
? ? ? ? 160 ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY.
of some degrees to the northward, is not interrupted
by any sea; neither are the mountains so disposed as
to form any considerable obstacle to hostile incur
sions. Originally it was all inhabited but by one
sort of people, known by one common denomination
of Scythians. As the several tribes of this comprehensive name lay in many parts greatly exposed, and
as by their situation and customs they were much inclined to attack, and by both ill qualified for defence,
throughout the whole of that immense region there
was for many ages a perpetual flux and reflux of barbarous nations. None of their commonwealths continued long enough established on any particular spot to settle and to subside into a regular order, one tribe
continually overpowering or thrusting out another.
But as these were only the mixtures of Scythians
with Scythians, the triumphs of barbarians over barbarians, there were revolutions in empire, but none
in manners. The Northern Europe, until some parts
of it were subdued by the progress of the Roman
arms, remained almost equally covered with all the
ruggedness of primitive barbarism.
The southern part was differently circumstanced.
Divided, as we have said, from the northern by great
mountains, it is further divided within itself by considerable seas. Spain, Greece, and Italy are peninsulas. By these advantages of situation the inhabitants were preserved from those great and sudden revolutions to which the Northern world had been always
liable; and being confined within a space comparatively narrow, they were restrained from wandering
into a pastoral and unsettled life. It was upon one
side only that they could be invaded by land. Whoever made an attempt on any other part must neces
? ? ? ? ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 161
sarily have arrived in ships of some magnitude, and
must therefore have in a degree been cultivated, if
not by the liberal, at least by the mechanic arts. In
fact, the principal colonies which we find these countries to have received were sent from Phoenicia, or
the Lesser Asia, or Egypt, the great fountains of
the ancient civility and learning. And they became
more or less, earlier or later, polished, as they were
situated nearer to or further from these celebrated
sources. Though I am satisfied, from a comparison
of the Celtic tongues with the Greek and Roman,
that the original inhabitants of Italy and Greece were
of the same race with the people of Northern Europe,,
yet it is certain they profited so much by their guarded situation, by the mildness of their climate favora --
ble to humanity, and by the foreign infusions, that
they came greatly to excel the Northern nations in
every respect, and particularly in the art and discipline of war. For, not being so strong in their bodies, partly from the temperature of their climate, partly from- a degree of softness induced by a more
cultivated life, they applied themselves to remove the
few inconveniences of a settled society by the advantages which it affords in art, disposition, and obedience; and as they consisted of many small states, their people were well exercised in arms, and sharpened against each other by continual war.
Such was the situation of Greece and Italy from a
very remote period. The Gauls and other Northern
nations, envious of their wealth, and despising the effeminacy of their manners, often invaded them with
numerous, though ill-formed armies. But their greatest and most frequent attempts were against Italy,.
their connection with which country alone we shall
VOL. VII. 11
? ? ? ? 162 ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY.
here consider. In the course of these wars, the
superiority of the Roman discipline over the Gallic
ferocity was at length demonstrated. The Gauls,
notwithstanding the numbers with which their irruptions were made, and the impetuous courage by which that nation was distinguished, had no permanent success. They were altogether unskilful either
in improving their victories or repairing their defeats.
But the Romans, being governed by a most wise order of men, perfected by a traditionary experience
in the policy of conquest, drew some advantage from
every turn of fortune, and, victorious or vanquished,
persisted in one uniform and comprehensive plan of
breaking to pieces everything which endangered their
safety or obstructed their greatness. For, after having more than once expelled the Northern invaders out of Italy, they pursued them over the Alps; and
carrying the war into the country of their enemy,
under several able generals, and at last under Caius
Caesar, they reduced all the Gauls from the Mediterranean Sea to the Rhine and the Ocean. During the progress of this decisive war, some of the maritime
nations of Gaul had recourse for assistance to the
neighboring island of Biitain. From thence they
received considerable succors; by which means this
island first came to be known with any exactness by
the Romans, and first drew upon it the attention of
that victorious people.
Though Cesar had reduced Gaul, he perceived
clearly that a great deal was still wanting to make
his conquest secure and lasting. That extensive country, inhabited by a multitude of populous and fierce nations, had been rather overrun than conquered.
The Gauls were not vet broken to the yoke, which
? ? ? ? ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 163
they bore with murmuring and discontent. The ruins
of their own strength were still considerable; and they
had hopes that the Germans, famous for their invincible courage and their ardent love of liberty, would be at hand powerfully to second any endeavors for
the recovery of their freedom; they trusted that the
Britons, of their own blood, allied in manners and religion, and whose help they had lately experienced, would not then be wanting to the same cause. Caesar
was not ignorant of these dispositions. He therefore
judged, that, if he could confine the attention of the
Germans and Britons to their own defence, so that
the Gauls, on which side soever they turned, should
meet nothing but the Roman arms, they must soon
be deprived of all hope, and compelled to seek their
safety in an entire submission.
These were the public reasons which made the
invasion of Britain and Germany an undertaking, at
that particular time, not unworthy a wise and able
general. But these enterprises, though reasonable
in themselves, were only subservient to purposes of
more importance, and which he had more at heart.
Whatever measures he thought proper to pursue on
the side of Germany, or on that of Britain, it was
towards Rome that he always looked, and to the furtherance of his interest there that all his motions were really directed. That republic had receded
from many of those maxims by which her freedom
had been hitherto preserved under the weight of so
vast an empire. Rome now contained many citizens
of immense wealth, eloquence, and ability. Particular men were more considered than the republic; and the fortune and genius of the Roman people, which
formerly had been thought equal to everything, came
? ? ? ? 164 ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY.
now to be less relied upon than the abilities of a few
popular men. The war with the Gauls, as the old
and most dangerous enemy of Rome, was of the last
importance; and Cesar had the address to obtain
-the conduct of it for a term of years, contrary to one
of the most established principles of their government. But this war was finished before that term
was expired, and before the designs which he entertained against the liberty of his country were fully
ripened. It was therefore necessary to find some pretext for keeping his army OIn foot; it was necessary to employ them in some enterprise that might at once raise his character, keep his interest alive at
Rome, endear him to his troops, and by that means
weaken the ties which held them to their country.
From this motive, colored by reasons plausible and
fit to be avowed, he resolved in one and the same
year, and even when that was almost expired, upon
two expeditions, the objects of which lay at a great
distance from each other, and were as yet untouched
by the Roman arms. And first he resolved to pass
the Rhine, and penetrate into Germany.
Caesar spent but twenty-eight days in his German
expedition. In ten he built his admirable bridge
across the Rhine; in eighteen he performed all he
proposed by entering that country. When the Germalls saw the barrier of their river so easily overcome, and Nature herself, as it were, submitted to the yoke, they were struck with astonishment, and never
after ventured to oppose the Romans in the field.
The most obnoxious of the German countries were
ravaged, the strong awed, the weak taken into protection. Thus an alliance being formed, always the
first step of the Roman policy, and not only a pre
? ? ? ? ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 165
tence, but a means, being thereby acquired of entering the country upon any future occasion, he
marched back through Gaul to execute a design of
much the same nature and extent in Britain.
The inhabitants of that island, who were divided
into a great number of petty nations, under a very
coarse and disorderly frame of government, did not
find it easy to plan any effectual measures for their
defence. In order, however, to gain time in 55
this exigency, they sent ambassadors to Caesar with terms of submission. Caesar could not colorably reject their offers. But as their submission
rather clashed than coincided with his real designs,
he still persisted in his resolution of passing over into
Britain; and accordingly embarked with the infantry
of two legions at the port of Itium. * His landing was
obstinately disputed by the natives, and brought on a
very hot and doubtful engagement. But the superior dispositions of so accomplished a commander, the
resources of the Roman discipline, and the effect of
the military engines on the unpractised minds of a
barbarous people prevailed at length over the best resistance which could be made by rude numbers and
mere bravery. The place where the Romans first
entered this island was somewhere near Deal, and
the time fifty-five years before the birth of Christ.
The Britons, who defended their country with so
much resolution in the engagement, immediately after it lost all their spirit. They had laid no regular plan for their defence. Upon their first failure
they seemed to have no resources left. On the slightest loss they betook themselves to treaty and submission; upon the least appearance in their favor * Some think this port to be Witsand; others Boulogne.
? ? ? ? . 166 ABRIDGMENT OF ENGLISH HISTORY.
they were as ready to resume their arms, without
any regard to their former engagements: a conduct
which demonstrates that our British ancestors had
no regular polity with a standing coercive power.
The ambassadors which they sent to Csesar laid all
the blame of a war carried on by great armies upon
the rashness of their young men, and they declared
that the ruling people had no share in these hostilities. This is exactly the excuse which the savages
of America, who have no regular government, make
at this day upon the like occasions. ; but it would be
a strange apology from one of the modern states of
Europe that had employed armies against another.
Caesar reprimanded them for the inconstancy of their
behavior, and ordered them to bring hostages to secure their fidelity, together with provisions for his
army. But whilst the Britons were engaged in the
treaty, and on that account had free access to the
Roman camp, they easily observed that the army of
the invaders was neither numerous nor well provided; and having about the same time received intelligence that the Roman fleet had suffered in a storm, they again changed their measures, and came to a
resolution of renewing the war.