No More Learning

-- my part is taken: I would take my
fate with the poor and low and feeble. But if these people came to turn their liberty into a cloak for maliciousness, and to seek a. privilege of exemption, not from power, but from the rules of morality and virtuous discipline, then I would join my hand to make them feel the force which a few united in a good cause have over a multitude of the profligate and ferocious.
I wish the nature of the ground of repeal were considered with a little attention. It is' said'the act tends to accumulate, to keep up the power of great families, and to add wealth to wealth. It may be
that it does so. It is impossible that any principle of law or government useful to tile community should be established without an advantage to those who have the greatest stake in the country. Even some vices arise fromi it. The same laws which secure property encourage avarice; and the fences made about honest acquisition are the strong bars which secure the hoards of the miser. The dignities of magistracy are encouragements to ambition, with all the. . black train of villanies which. attend that wicked
? ? ? ? SPEECH ON REPEAL OF THE MARRIAGE ACT. 135
passion. But still we must have laws to secure propl'
erty, and still we must have ranks and distinctions and
magistracy in the state, notwithstanding their manifest tendency to encourage avarice and ambition.
By affirming the parental authority throughout the
state, parents in high rank will generally aim at, and
will sometimes have the means, too, of preserving.
their minor children from any but wealthy or splendid matches. But this authority preserves from a
thousand misfortunes which embitter every part of
every man's domestic life, and tear to pieces the dearest ties in human society.
I am no peer, nor like to be, -but am in middle,
life, in the mass of citizens; yet I should feel for a
son who married a prostituted woman, or a daughter
who married a dishonorable and prostituted man, as
much as any peer in the realm.
You are afraid of the avaricious principle of fathers. But observe that the avaricious' principle is
here mitigated very considerably. It is avarice by
proxy; it is avarice not working by itself or for itself, but through the medium of parental affection,
meaning to procure good to its offspring. But the
contest is not between love and avarice.
While you would guard against the possible operation of this species of benevolent avarice, the avarice
of the father, you let loose another species of avarice, - that of the fortune-hunter, unmitigated, unqualified. To show the motives, who has heard of a man running away with a woman not worth sixpence? Do not call this by the name of the sweet
and best passion, - love. It is robbery, - not a jot
better than any other.
Would you suffer the sworn enemy of his family,
? ? ? ? 136 SP8EECH ON,; REPEAL. OF: THE MARRIAGE ACT.
his life, and his honor, possibly the shame and scan,
dal and blot of human, society. to: debauch from his
care and protection the dearest pledge that. he has
on earth, the sole comfort of his declining years, almost in infantine imbecility,. - and with it to carry into the hands of his enemy, and the disgrace of
Nature,, the dear-earned substance of a careful and laborious life? Think of the daughter of an honest, virtuous parent allied to vice and infamy. Think of
the hopeful son tied for life by the. meretricious arts
of the refuse of mercenary and promiscuous lewdness:. HIave mercy on the youth of both sexes; protect them from their ignorance and:inexperience; protect,one part of life by the wisdom of another; protect them
by the wisdom of laws and the care of Nature.
? ? ? ? SPEECH
ON A
MOTION MADE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, FEBRUARY 17, 1772,
FOR LEAVE TO BRING IN
A BILL TO QUIET THE POSSESSIONS OF
THE SUBJECT AGAINST DORMANT
CLAIMS OF THE CHURCH.
? ? ? ? SPEE CH.
IF I considered this bill as an attack upon the
Church, brought in for the purpose of impoverishing and weakening the clergy,'I should be one of
the foremost in an early and vigorous opposition to it.
I admit, the same reasons do not press for limiting
the claims of the' Church that existed for limiting the
crown, by that wisest of all laws which has secured
the property, the peace, and the freedom ofthis country from the most dangerous mode of attack which could be made upon them all.
I am very sensible of the propriety of maintaining
that venerable body with decency, -- and with more
than mere decency. . I would maintain it according
to the ranks wisely established in it, with that sober
and temperate splendor that is suitable to a sacred
character invested with high dignity.
There ought to be a symmetry between all the
parts and orders of a state. A poor clergy in an opulent nation can have little correspondence with the body it is to instruct, and it is a disgrace to the pub-'
lic sentiments of religion. Such irreligious frugality
is even bad economy, as the little that is given is en
tirely thrown away. Such an impoverished and degraded clergy in quiet times could never execute. their duty, and in time of disorder would infinitely
aggravate the public confusions.
That the property of the Church is. a favored and'
? ? ? ? 140 SPEECH ON DORMANT CLAIMS OF THE CHURCH.
privileged property I readily admit. It is made with
great wisdom; since a perpetual body, with a perpetual duty, ought to have a perpetual provision.
The question is not, the property of the Church, or
its security. The question is, whether you will render the principle of prescription a principle of the law of this land, and incorporate it with the whole of
your jurisprudence, - whether, having given' it first
against the laity, then against the crown, you will
now extend it to the Church. :
The acts which were made; giving limitation against
the laity, were not acts against the property of those
who might be precluded by limitations. The act of
quiet against the crown was not! against the interests
of the crown, but against a power of vexation.
If the principle of prescription be not a constitution of positive law, but a principle of natural equity, then to hold it out against any man is not doing him
injustice.
That tithes are due of common right is readily
granted; and if this principle had been kept in its
original straitness, it might, indeed, be supposed
that to plead an exemption was to plead a long-continued fraud, and that no man could be deceived in such a title, --as the moment he bought land, he
must know that he bought land tithed: prescription could not aid him, for prescription can only
attach on a supposed bond fide possession. But the
fact is, that the principle has been broken in upon.
Here it is necessary to distinguish two sorts of
property.
1. Land carries no mark on it to distinguish it
as -ecclesiastical, as tithes do, which are a charge on
land; therefore, though it had been made in. alienable,
? ? ? ? . SPEECH ON DORMANT'CLAIMS OF THE CHURCH. 141
it ought perhaps to be subject to limitation. It might
bon Jfide be held.
But, first, it was not originally inalienable, no, not:by the. Canonf Law, until the restraining act of the. 11th [ 1st? ] of Elizabeth. But the great revolution of the dissolution. of monasteries, by the 31st Hen. ,
ch. 13, has so mixed and confounded ecclesiastical with
lay property, that a man may by every rule of good
faith be possessed of it. The statute of Queen Elizabeth, ann. 1, ch. 1, [? ] gave away the bishop's lands. So far as to lands.
As to tithes, they are not things in their own nature subject to be barred by prescription upon the general principle. But tithes and Church lands, by
the statutes of Henry VIII. and the 11th [1st? ] Eliz. ,
have become objects in commercio: for by coming to
the crown they became grantable in that way to the
subject, and a great-part of the Church lands passed
through the crown to the people. . By passing to the king, tithes became property to
a mixed party; by passing from the king, they be.
came absolutely lay property:- the partition-wall was
broken down, and tithes and Church possession became no longer synonymous terms. No [A? ] 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.