No More Learning

I am sorry, that the remaining part of this letter is not equal to the
first. The author has, indeed, engaged in a disquisition, in which we
need not wonder if he fails, in the solution of questions on which
philosophers have employed their abilities from the earliest times,

"And found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost. "

He denies, that man was created _perfect_, because the system requires
subordination, and because the power of losing his perfection, of
"rendering himself wicked and miserable, is the highest imperfection
imaginable. " Besides, the regular gradations of the scale of being
required, somewhere, "such a creature as man, with all his infirmities
about him; and the total removal of those would be altering his nature,
and, when he became perfect, he must cease to be man. "

I have already spent some considerations on the _scale of being_, of
which, yet, I am obliged to renew the mention, whenever a new argument
is made to rest upon it; and I must, therefore, again remark, that
consequences cannot have greater certainty than the postulate from which
they are drawn, and that no system can be more hypothetical than this,
and, perhaps, no hypothesis more absurd.

He again deceives himself with respect to the perfection with which
_man_ is held to be originally vested. "That man came perfect, that is,
endued with all possible perfection, out of the hands of his creator, is
a false notion derived from the philosophers. --The universal system
required subordination, and, consequently, comparative imperfection. "
That _man was ever endued with all possible perfection_, that is, with
all perfection, of which the idea is not contradictory, or destructive
of itself, is, undoubtedly, _false_. But it can hardly be called _a
false notion_, because no man ever thought it, nor can it be derived
from the _philosophers_; for, without pretending to guess what
philosophers he may mean, it is very safe to affirm, that no philosopher
ever said it. Of those who now maintain that _man_ was once perfect, who
may very easily be found, let the author inquire, whether _man_ was ever
omniscient, whether he was ever omnipotent; whether he ever had even the
lower power of archangels or angels. Their answers will soon inform him,
that the supposed perfection of _man_ was not absolute, but respective;
that he was perfect, in a sense consistent enough with subordination,
perfect, not as compared with different beings, but with himself in his
present degeneracy; not perfect, as an angel, but perfect, as man.

From this perfection, whatever it was, he thinks it necessary that man
should be debarred, because pain is necessary to the good of the
universe; and the pain of one order of beings extending its salutary
influence to innumerable orders above and below, it was necessary that
man should suffer; but, because it is not suitable to justice, that pain
should be inflicted on innocence, it was necessary that man should be
criminal.

This is given as a satisfactory account of the original of moral evil,
which amounts only to this, that God created beings, whose guilt he
foreknew, in order that he might have proper objects of pain, because
the pain of part is, no man knows how or why, necessary to the felicity
of the whole.

The perfection which man once had, may be so easily conceived, that,
without any unusual strain of imagination, we can figure its revival.
All the duties to God or man, that are neglected, we may fancy
performed; all the crimes, that are committed, we may conceive forborne.
Man will then be restored to his moral perfections; and into what head
can it enter, that, by this change, the universal system would be
shaken, or the condition of any order of beings altered for the worse?

He comes, in the fifth letter, to political, and, in the sixth, to
religious evils. Of political evil, if we suppose the origin of moral
evil discovered, the account is by no means difficult; polity being only
the conduct of immoral men in publick affairs. The evils of each
particular kind of government are very clearly and elegantly displayed,
and, from their secondary causes, very rationally deduced; but the first
cause lies still in its ancient obscurity. There is, in this letter,
nothing new, nor any thing eminently instructive; one of his practical
deductions, that "from government, evils cannot be eradicated, and their
excess only can be prevented," has been always allowed; the question,
upon which all dissension arises, is, when that excess begins, at what
point men shall cease to bear, and attempt to remedy.

Another of his precepts, though not new, well deserves to be
transcribed, because it cannot be too frequently impressed.

"What has here been said of their imperfections and abuses, is, by no
means, intended as a defence of them: every wise man ought to redress
them to the utmost of his power; which can be effected by one method
only, that is, by a reformation of manners; for, as all political evils
derive their original from moral, these can never be removed, until
those are first amended. He, therefore, who strictly adheres to virtue
and sobriety in his conduct, and enforces them by his example, does more
real service to a state, than he who displaces a minister, or dethrones
a tyrant: this gives but a temporary relief, but that exterminates the
cause of the disease. No immoral man, then, can possibly be a true
patriot; and all those who profess outrageous zeal for the liberty and
prosperity of their country, and, at the same time, infringe her laws,
affront her religion, and debauch her people, are but despicable quacks,
by fraud or ignorance increasing the disorders they pretend to remedy. "

Of religion he has said nothing but what he has learned, or might have
learned, from the divines; that it is not universal, because it must be
received upon conviction, and successively received by those whom
conviction reached; that its evidences and sanctions are not
irresistible, because it was intended to induce, not to compel; and that
it is obscure, because we want faculties to comprehend it. What he means
by his assertion, that it wants policy, I do not well understand; he
does not mean to deny, that a good christian will be a good governour,
or a good subject; and he has before justly observed, that the good man
only is a patriot.

Religion has been, he says, corrupted by the wickedness of those to whom
it was communicated, and has lost part of its efficacy, by its connexion
with temporal interest and human passion.

He justly observes, that from all this no conclusion can be drawn
against the divine original of christianity, since the objections arise
not from the nature of the revelation, but of him to whom it is
communicated.

All this is known, and all this is true; but why, we have not yet
discovered. Our author, if I understand him right, pursues the argument
thus: the religion of man produces evils, because the morality of man is
imperfect; his morality is imperfect, that he may be justly a subject of
punishment; he is made subject to punishment, because the pain of part
is necessary to the happiness of the whole; pain is necessary to
happiness, no mortal can tell why, or how.

Thus, after having clambered, with great labour, from one step of
argumentation to another, instead of rising into the light of knowledge,
we are devolved back into dark ignorance; and all our effort ends in
belief, that for the evils of life there is some good reason, and in
confession, that the reason cannot be found. This is all that has been
produced by the revival of Chrysippus's untractableness of matter, and
the Arabian scale of existence. A system has been raised, which is so
ready to fall to pieces of itself, that no great praise can be derived
from its destruction. To object, is always easy, and, it has been well
observed by a late writer, that "the hand which cannot build a hovel,
may demolish a temple [11]. "




REVIEW OF THE HISTORY OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON, FOR IMPROVING OF
NATURAL KNOWLEDGE, FROM ITS FIRST RISE;

In which the most considerable papers communicated to the society, which
have, hitherto, not been published, are inserted, in their proper order,
as a supplement to the Philosophical Transactions. By Thomas Birch, D.
D. secretary to the Royal society, 2 vols. 4to.


This book might, more properly, have been entitled by the author, a
diary than a history, as it proceeds regularly from day to day, so
minutely, as to number over the members present at each committee, and
so slowly, that two large volumes contain only the transactions of the
eleven first years from the institution of the society.

I am, yet, far from intending to represent this work as useless. Many
particularities are of importance to one man, though they appear
trifling to another; and it is always more safe to admit copiousness,
than to affect brevity. Many informations will be afforded by this book
to the biographer. I know not where else it can be found, but here, and
in Ward, that Cowley was doctor in physick. And, whenever any other
institution, of the same kind, shall be attempted, the exact relation of
the progress of the Royal society may furnish precedents.

These volumes consist of an exact journal of the society; of some papers
delivered to them, which, though registered and preserved, had been
never printed; and of short memoirs of the more eminent members,
inserted at the end of the year in which each died.

The original of the society is placed earlier in this history than in
that of Dr. Sprat. Theodore Haak, a German of the Palatinate, in 1645,
proposed, to some inquisitive and learned men, a weekly meeting, for the
cultivation of natural knowledge. The first associates, whose names
ought, surely, to be preserved, were Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Wallis, Dr.
Goddard, Dr. Ent, Dr. Glisson, Dr. Merret, Mr. Foster of Gresham, and
Mr. Haak. Sometime afterwards, Wilkins, Wallis, and Goddard, being
removed to Oxford, carried on the same design there by stated meetings,
and adopted into their society Dr. Ward, Dr. Bathurst, Dr. Petty, and
Dr. Willis.

The Oxford society coming to London, in 1659, joined their friends, and
augmented their number, and, for some time, met in Gresham college.
After the restoration, their number was again increased, and on the 28th
of November, 1660, a select party happening to retire for conversation,
to Mr. Rooke's apartment in Gresham college, formed the first plan of a
regular society. Here Dr. Sprat's history begins, and, therefore, from
this period, the proceedings are well known [12].




REVIEW OF THE GENERAL HISTORY OP POLYBIUS,

IN FIVE BOOKS, TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK, BY MR. HAMPTON.


This appears to be one of the books, which will long do honour to the
present age. It has been, by some remarker, observed, that no man ever
grew immortal by a translation; and, undoubtedly, translations into the
prose of a living language must be laid aside, whenever the language
changes, because the matter being always to be found in the original,
contributes nothing to the preservation of the form superinduced by the
translator. But such versions may last long, though they can scarcely
last always; and there is reason to believe that this will grow in
reputation, while the English tongue continues in its present state.

The great difficulty of a translator is to preserve the native form of
his language, and the unconstrained manner of an original writer. This
Mr. Hampton seems to have attained, in a degree of which there are few
examples. His book has the dignity of antiquity, and the easy flow of a
modern composition.

It were, perhaps, to be desired, that he had illustrated, with notes, an
author which must have many difficulties to an English reader, and,
particularly, that he had explained the ancient art of war; but these
omissions may be easily supplied, by an inferiour hand, from the
antiquaries and commentators.

To note omissions, where there is so much performed, would be invidious,
and to commend is unnecessary, where the excellence of the work may be
more easily and effectually shown, by exhibiting a specimen [13].




REVIEW OF MISCELLANIES ON MORAL AND RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS,

IN PROSE AND VERSE; BY ELIZABETH HARRISON.


This volume, though only one name appears upon the first page, has been
produced by the contribution of many hands, and printed by the
encouragement of a numerous subscription, both which favours seem to be
deserved by the modesty and piety of her on whom they were bestowed.

The authors of the esssays in prose seem, generally, to have imitated,
or tried to imitate, the copiousness and luxunance of Mrs. Rowe; this,
however, is not all their praise, they have laboured to add to her
brightness of imagery, her purity of sentiments. The poets have had Dr.
Watts before their eyes, a writer who, if he stood not in the first
class of genius, compensated that defect, by a ready application of his
powers to the promotion of piety. The attempt to employ the ornaments of
romance in the decoration of religion was, I think, first made by Mr.
Boyle's Martyrdom of Theodora; but Boyle's philosophical studies did not
allow him time for the cultivation of style, and the completion of the
great design was reserved for Mrs. Rowe. Dr. Watts was one of the first
who taught the dissenters to write and speak like other men, by showing
them, that elegance might consist with piety. They would have both clone
honour to a better society, for they had that charity which might well
make their failings forgotten, and with which the whole Christian world
might wish for communion. They were pure from all the heresies of an
age, to which every opinion is become a favourite, that the universal
church has, hitherto, detested.

This praise the general interest of mankind requires to be given to
writers who please, and do not corrupt, who instruct, and do not weary.
But to them all human eulogies are vain, whom, I believe applauded by
angels and numbered with the just [14].




ACCOUNT OF A BOOK ENTITLED AN HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL ENQUIRY

Into the evidence produced by the earls of MORAY and MORTON against

MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS [15].

With an examination of the reverend Dr. Robertson's Dissertation, and
Mr. Hume's History, with respect to that evidence [16].


We live in an age, in which there is much talk of independence, of
private judgment, of liberty of thought, and liberty of press. Our
clamorous praises of liberty sufficiently prove that we enjoy it; and
if, by liberty, nothing else be meant, than security from the
persecutions of power, it is so fully possessed by us, that little more
is to be desired, except that one should talk of it less, and use it
better.

But a social being can scarcely rise to complete independence; he that
has any wants, which others can supply, must study the gratification of
them, whose assistance he expects; this is equally true, whether his
wants be wants of nature, or of vanity. The writers of the present time
are not always candidates for preferment, nor often the hirelings of a
patron. They profess to serve no interest, and speak with loud contempt
of sycophants and slaves.

There is, however, a power, from whose influence neither they, nor their
predecessors, have ever been free. Those, who have set greatness at
defiance, have yet been the slaves of fashion. When an opinion has once
become popular, very few are willing to oppose it. Idleness is more
willing to credit than inquire; cowardice is afraid of controversy, and
vanity of answer; and he that writes merely for sale, is tempted to
court purchasers by flattering the prejudices of the publick.

It has now been fashionable, for near half a century, to defame and
vilify the house of Stuart, and to exalt and magnify the reign of
Elizabeth. The Stuarts have found few apologists, for the dead cannot
pay for praise; and who will, without reward, oppose the tide of
popularity? yet there remains, still, among us, not wholly
extinguished, a zeal for truth, a desire of establishing right, in
opposition to fashion. The author, whose work is now before as, has
attempted a vindication of Mary of Scotland, whose name has, for some
years, been generally resigned to infamy, and who has been considered,
as the murderer of her husband, and condemned by her own letters.

Of these letters, the author of this vindication confesses the
importance to be such, that, "if they be genuine, the queen was guilty;
and, if they be spurious, she was innocent. " He has, therefore,
undertaken to prove them spurious, and divided his treatise into six
parts.

In the first is contained the history of the letters from their
discovery by the earl of Morton, their being produced against queen
Mary, and their several appearances in England, before queen Elizabeth
and her commissioners, until they were finally delivered back again to
the earl of Morton.

The second contains a short abstract of Mr. Goodall's arguments for
proving the letters to be spurious and forged; and of Dr. Robertson and
Mr. Hume's objections, by way of answer to Mr. Goodall, with critical
observations on these authors.

The third contains an examination of the arguments of Dr. Robertson and
Mr. Hume, in support of the authenticity of the letters.

The fourth contains an examination of the confession of Nicholas Hubert,
commonly called _French Paris_, with observations, showing the same to
be a forgery.

The fifth contains a short recapitulation, or summary, of the arguments
on both sides of the question.

The last is an historical collection of the direct or positive evidence
still on record, tending to show what part the earls of Murray and
Morton, and secretary Lethington, had in the murder of the lord Darnley.

The author apologizes for the length of this book, by observing, that it
necessarily comprises a great number of particulars, which could not
easily be contracted: the same plea may be made for the imperfection of
our extract, which will naturally fall below the force of the book,
because we can only select parts of that evidence, which owes its
strength to its concatenation, and which will be weakened, whenever it
is disjoined.

The account of the seizure of these controverted letters is thus given
by the queen's enemies.

"That in the castell of Edinburgh, thair was left be the erle of
Bothwell, before his fleeing away, and was send for be ane George
Dalgleish, his servand, who was taken be the erle of Mortoun, ane small
gylt coffer, not fully ane fute lang, garnisht in sindrie places with
the roman letter F. under ane king's crowne; wharin were certane
letteris and writings weel knawin, and be aithis to be affirmit to have
been written with the quene of Scottis awn hand to the erle. "

The papers in the box were said to be eight letters, in French, some
love-sonnets in French also, and a promise of marriage by the queen to
Bothwell.

To the reality of these letters our author makes some considerable
objections, from the nature of things; but, as such arguments do not
always convince, we will pass to the evidence of facts.

On June 15, 1567, the queen delivered herself to Morton, and his party,
who imprisoned her.

June 20, 1567, Dalgleish was seized, and, six days after, was examined
by Morton; his examination is still extant, and there is no mention of
this fatal box.

Dec. 4, 1567, Murray's secret council published an act, in which is the
first mention of these letters, and in which they are said to be
_written and subscrivit with her awin hand_. Ten days after, Murray's
first parliament met, and passed an act, in which they mention _previe
letters written halelie_ [wholly] _with her awin hand_. The difference
between _written and subscribed_, and _wholly written_, gives the author
just reason to suspect, first, a forgery, and then a variation of the
forgery. It is, indeed, very remarkable, that the first account asserts
more than the second, though the second contains all the truth; for the
letters, whether _written_ by the queen or not, were not _subscribed_.
Had the second account differed from the first only by something added,
the first might have contained truth, though not all the truth; but as
the second corrects the first by diminution, the first cannot be cleared
from falsehood.

In October, 1568, these letters were shown at York to Elisabeth's
commissioners, by the agents of Murray, but not in their publick
character, as commissioners, but by way of private information, and were
not, therefore, exposed to Mary's commissioners. Mary, however, hearing
that some letters were intended to be produced against her, directed her
commissioners to require them for her inspection, and, in the mean time,
to declare them _false and feigned, forged and invented_, observing,
that there were many that could counterfeit her hand.

To counterfeit a name is easy, to counterfeit a hand, through eight
letters very difficult. But it does not appear that the letters were
ever shown to those who would desire to detect them; and, to the English
commissioners, a rude and remote imitation might be sufficient, since
they were not shown as judicial proofs; and why they were not shown as
proofs, no other reason can be given, than they must have then been
examined, and that examination would have detected the forgery.

These letters, thus timorously and suspiciously communicated, were all
the evidence against Mary; for the servants of Bothwell, executed for
the murder of the king, acquitted the queen, at the hour of death. These
letters were so necessary to Murray, that he alleges them, as the reason
of the queen's imprisonment, though he imprisoned her on the 16th, and
pretended not to have intercepted the letters before the 20th of June.

Of these letters, on which the fate of princes and kingdoms was
suspended, the authority should have been put out of doubt; yet that
such letters were ever found, there is no witness but Morton who accused
the queen, and Crawfurd, a dependent on Lennox, another of her accusers.
Dalgleish, the bearer, was hanged without any interrogatories concerning
them; and Hulet, mentioned in them, though then in prison, was never
called to authenticate them, nor was his confession produced against
Mary, till death had left him no power to disown it.

Elizabeth, indeed, was easily satisfied; she declared herself ready to
receive the proofs against Mary, and absolutely refused Mary the liberty
of confronting her accusers, and making her defence. Before such a
judge, a very little proof would be sufficient. She gave the accusers of
Mary leave to go to Scotland, and the box and letters were seen no more.
They have been since lost, and the discovery, which comparison of
writing might have made, is now no longer possible. Hume has, however,
endeavoured to palliate the conduct of Elizabeth, but "his account,"
says our author, "is contradicted, almost in every sentence, by the
records, which, it appears, he has himself perused. "

In the next part, the authenticity of the letters is examined; and it
seems to be proved, beyond contradiction, that the French letters,
supposed to have been written by Mary, are translated from the Scotch
copy, and, if originals, which it was so much the interest of such
numbers to preserve, are wanting, it is much more likely that they never
existed, than that they have been lost.

The arguments used by Dr. Robertson, to prove the genuineness of the
letters, are next examined. Robertson makes use, principally, of what he
calls the _internal evidence_, which, amounting, at most, to conjecture,
is opposed by conjecture equally probable.

In examining the confession of Nicholas Hubert, or French Paris, this
new apologist of Mary seems to gain ground upon her accuser. Paris is
mentioned, in the letters, as the bearer of them to Bothwell; when the
rest of Bothwell's servants were executed, clearing the queen in the
last moment, Paris, instead of suffering his trial, with the rest, at
Edinburgh, was conveyed to St. Andrew's, where Murray was absolute; put
into a dungeon of Murray's citadel; and, two years after, condemned by
Murray himself, nobody knew how. Several months after his death, a
confession in his name, without the regular testifications, was sent to
Cecil, at what exact time, nobody can tell.

Of this confession, Leslie, bishop of Ross, openly denied the
genuineness, in a book printed at London, and suppressed by Elizabeth;
and another historian of that time declares, that Paris died without any
confession; and the confession itself was never shown to Mary, or to
Mary's commissioners. The author makes this reflection:

"From the violent presumptions that arise from their carrying this poor
ignorant stranger from Edinburgh, the ordinary seat of justice; their
keeping him hid from all the world, in a remote dungeon, and not
producing him, with their other evidences, so as he might have been
publickly questioned; the positive and direct testimony of the author of
Crawfurd's manuscript, then living, and on the spot at the time; with
the publick affirmation of the bishop of Ross, at the time of Paris's
death, that he had vindicated the queen with his dying breath; the
behaviour of Murray, Morton, Buchanan, and even of Hay, the attester of
this pretended confession, on that occasion; their close and reserved
silence, at the time when they must have had this confession of Paris in
their pocket; and their publishing every other circumstance that could
tend to blacken the queen, and yet omitting this confession, the only
direct evidence of her supposed guilt; all this duly and dispassionately
considered, I think, one may safely conclude, that it was judged not fit
to expose, so soon, to light this piece of evidence against the queen;
which a cloud of witnesses, living, and present at Paris's execution,
would, surely, have given clear testimony against, as a notorious
imposture. "

Mr. Hume, indeed, observes: "It is in vain, at present, to seek for
improbabilities in Nicholas Hubert's dying confession, and to magnify
the smallest difficulties into a contradiction. It was certainly a
regular judicial paper, given in regularly and judicially, and ought to
have been canvassed at the time, if the persons, whom it concerned, had
been assured of their innocence. " To which our author makes a reply,
which cannot be shortened without weakening it:

"Upon what does this author ground his sentence? Upon two very plain
reasons, first, that the confession was a judicial one, that is, taken
in presence, or by authority of a judge. And secondly, that it was
regularly and judicially given in; that must be understood during the
time of the conferences before queen Elizabeth and her council, in
presence of Mary's commissioners; at which time she ought to have
canvassed it," says our author, "if she knew her innocence.

"That it was not a judicial confession, is evident: the paper itself
does not bear any such mark; nor does it mention, that it was taken in
presence of any person, or by any authority whatsoever; and, by
comparing it with the judicial examinations of Dalgleish, Hay, and
Hepburn, it is apparent, that it is destitute of every formality,
requisite in a judicial evidence. In what dark corner, then, this
strange production was generated, our author may endeavour to find out,
if he can.

"As to his second assertion, that it was regularly and judicially given
in, and, therefore, ought to have been canvassed, by Mary during the
conferences; we have already seen, that this, likewise, is not fact: the
conferences broke up in February, 1569: Nicholas Hubert was not hanged
till August thereafter, and his dying confession, as Mr. Hume calls it,
is only dated the 10th of that month. How, then, can this gentleman
gravely tell us, that this confession was judicially given in, and ought
to have been, at that very time, canvassed by queen Mary and her
commissioners? Such positive assertions, apparently contrary to fact,
are unworthy the character of an historian, and may, very justly, render
his decision, with respect to evidences of a higher nature, very
dubious. In answer, then, to Mr. Hume: As the queen's accusers did not
choose to produce this material witness, Paris, whom they had alive and
in their hands, nor any declaration or confession, from him, at the
critical and proper time for having it canvassed by the queen, I
apprehend our author's conclusion may fairly be used against himself;
that it is in vain, at present, to support the improbabilities and
absurdities in a confession, taken in a clandestine way, nobody knows
how, and produced, after Paris's death, by nobody knows whom, and, from
every appearance, destitute of every formality, requisite and common to
such sort of evidence: for these reasons, I am under no sort of
hesitation to give sentence against Nicholas Hubert's confession, as a
gross imposture and forgery. "

The state of the evidence relating to the letters is this:

Morton affirms, that they were taken in the hands of Dalgleish. Hie
examination of Dalgleish is still extant, and he appears never to have
been once interrogated concerning the letters.

Morton and Murray affirm, that they were written by the queen's hand;
they were carefully concealed from Mary and her commissioners, and were
never collated by one man, who could desire to disprove them.

Several of the incidents mentioned in the letters are confirmed by the
oath of Crawfurd, one of Lennox's defendants, and some of the incidents
are so minute, as that they could scarcely be thought on by a forger.
Crawfurd's testimony is not without suspicion. Whoever practises
forgery, endeavours to make truth the vehicle of falsehood.

Of a prince's life very minute incidents are known; and if any are too
slight to be remarked, they may be safely feigned, for they are,
likewise, too slight to be contradicted. But there are still more
reasons for doubting the genuineness of these letters. They had no date
of time or place, no seal, no direction, no superscription.

The only evidences that could prove their authenticity were Dalgleish
and Paris; of which Dalgleish, at his trial, was never questioned about
them; Paris was never publickly tried, though he was kept alive through
the time of the conference.

The servants of Bothwell, who were put to death for the king's murder,
cleared Mary with their last words.

The letters were first declared to be subscribed, and were then produced
without subscription.

They were shown, during the conferences at York, privately, to the
English commissioners, but were concealed from the commissioners of
Mary.

Mary always solicited the perusal of these letters, and was always
denied it.

She demanded to be heard, in person, by Elizabeth, before the nobles of
England and the ambassadours of other princes, and was refused.

When Mary persisted in demanding copies of the letters, her
commissioners were dismissed with their box to Scotland, and the letters
were seen no more.

The French letters, which, for almost two centuries, have been
considered as originals, by the enemies of Mary's memory, are now
discovered to be forgeries, and acknowledged to be translations, and,
perhaps, French translations of a Latin translation. And the modern
accusers of Mary are forced to infer, from these letters, which now
exist, that other letters existed formerly, which have been lost, in
spite of curiosity, malice, and interest.

The rest of this treatise is employed in an endeavour to prove, that
Mary's accusers were the murderers of Darnly: through this inquiry it is
hot necessary to follow him; only let it be observed, that, if these
letters were forged by them, they may easily be thought capable of other
crimes. That the letters were forged, is now made so probable, that,
perhaps, they will never more be cited as testimonies.




MARMOR NORFOLCIENSE:

Or, an essay on an ancient prophetical inscription, in monkish rhyme,
lately discovered near Lynn, in Norfolk. By Probus Britannicus [17].


In Norfolk, near the town of Lynn, in a field, which an ancient
tradition of the country affirms to have been once a deep lake, or meer,
and which appears, from authentick records, to have been called, about
two hundred years ago, _Palus_, or the marsh, was discovered, not long
since, a large square stone, which is found, upon an exact inspection,
to be a kind of coarse marble of a substance not firm enough to admit of
being polished, yet harder than our common quarries afford, and not
easily susceptible of injuries from weather or outward accidents.
It was brought to light by a farmer, who, observing his plough
obstructed by something, through which the share could not make its way,
ordered his servants to remove it. This was not effected without some
difficulty, the stone being three feet four inches deep, and four feet
square in the superficies; and, consequently, of a weight not easily
manageable. However, by the application of levers, it was, at length,
raised, and conveyed to a corner of the field, where it lay, for some
months, entirely unregarded; nor, perhaps, had we ever been made
acquainted with this venerable relick of antiquity, had not our good
fortune been greater than our curiosity.

A gentleman, well known to the learned world, and distinguished by the
patronage of the Maecenas of Norfolk, whose name, was I permitted to
mention it, would excite the attention of my reader, and add no small
authority to my conjectures, observing, as he was walking that way, that
the clouds began to gather, and threaten him with a shower, had
recourse, for shelter, to the trees under which this stone happened to
lie, and sat down upon it, in expectation of fair weather. At length he
began to amuse himself, in his confinement, by clearing the earth from
his seat with the point of his cane; and had continued this employment
some time, when he observed several traces of letters, antique and
irregular, which, by being very deeply engraven, were still easily
distinguishable.

This discovery so far raised his curiosity, that, going home
immediately, he procured an instrument proper for cutting out the clay,
that filled up the spaces of the letters; and, with very little labour,
made the inscription legible, which is here exhibited to the publick:

POST-GENITIS.

Cum lapidem hunc, magni
Qui nunc jacet incola stagni,
Vel pede equus tanget,
Vel arator vomere franget,
Sentiet aegra metus,
Effundet patria fletus,
Littoraque ut fluctu,
Resonabunt oppida luctu:
Nam foecunda rubri
Serpent per prata colubri,
Gramina vastantes,
Flores fructusque vorantes.
Omnia foedantes,
Vitiantes, et spoliantes;
Quanquam haud pugnaces,
Ibunt per cuncta minaces,
Fures absque timore,
Et pingues absque labore.
Horrida dementes
Rapiet discordia gentes;
Plurima tunc leges
Mutabit, plurima reges
Natio; conversa
In rabiem tunc contremet ursa

MARMOR NORFOLCIENSE

Cynthia, tunc latis
Florebunt lilia pratis;
Nec fremere audebit
Leo, sed violare timebit,
Omnia consuetus
Populari pascua lætus.
Ante oculos natos
Calceatos et cruciatos
Jam feret ignavus,
Vetitaque libidine pravus.
En quoque quod mirum,
Quod dicas denique dirum,
Sanguinem equus sugit,
Neque bellua victa remugit!

These lines he carefully copied, accompanied, in his letter of July 19,
with the following translation.

TO POSTERITY.

Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake,
The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break,
Then, O my country! shalt thou groan distrest,
Grief swell thine eyes, and terrour chill thy breast.
Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound,
Loud as the billows bursting on the ground.
Then through thy fields shall scarlet reptiles stray,
And rapine and pollution mark their way.
Their hungry swarms the peaceful vale shall fright,
Still fierce to threaten, still afraid to fight;
The teeming year's whole product shall devour,
Insatiate pluck the fruit, and crop the flow'r;
Shall glutton on the industrious peasants' spoil,
Rob without fear, and fatten without toil;
Then o'er the world shall discord stretch her wings;
Kings change their laws, and kingdoms change their kings.
The bear, enrag'd, th' affrighted moon shall dread;
The lilies o'er the vales triumphant spread;
Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign
Despotick o'er the desolated plain,
Henceforth th' inviolable bloom invade,
Or dare to murmur in the flow'ry glade;
His tortur'd sons shall die before his face,
While he lies melting in a lewd embrace;
And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,
Nor shall the passive coward once complain.

I make not the least doubt, but that this learned person has given us,
as an antiquary, a true and uncontrovertible representation of the
writer's meaning; and, am sure, he can confirm it by innumerable
quotations from the authors of the middle age, should he be publickly
called upon by any man of eminent rank in the republick of letters; nor
will he deny the world that satisfaction, provided the animadverter
proceeds with that sobriety and modesty, with which it becomes every
learned man to treat a subject of such importance.

Yet, with all proper deference to a name so justly celebrated, I will
take the freedom of observing, that he has succeeded better as a scholar
than a poet; having fallen below the strength, the conciseness, and, at
the same time, below the perspicuity of his author. I shall not point
out the particular passages in which this disparity is remarkable, but
content myself with saying, in general, that the criticisms, which there
is room for on this translation, may be almost an incitement to some
lawyer, studious of antiquity, to learn Latin.

The inscription, which I now proceed to consider, wants no arguments to
prove its antiquity to those among the learned, who are versed in the
writers of the darker ages, and know that the Latin poetry of those
times was of a peculiar cast and air, not easy to be understood, and
very difficult to be imitated; nor can it be conceived, that any man
would lay out his abilities on a way of writing, which, though attained
with much study, could gain him no reputation; and engrave his chimeras
on a stone, to astonish posterity.

Its antiquity, therefore, is out of dispute; but how high a degree of
antiquity is to be assigned it, there is more ground for inquiry than
determination. How early Latin rhymes made their appearance in the
world, is yet undecided by the criticks. Verses of this kind were called
leonine; but whence they derived that appellation, the learned Camden
[18] confesses himself ignorant; so that the style carries no certain
marks of its age. I shall only observe farther, on this head, that the
characters are nearly of the same form with those on king Arthur's
coffin; but whether, from their similitude, we may venture to pronounce
them of the same date, I must refer to the decision of better judges.

Our inability to fix the age of this inscription, necessarily infers our
ignorance of its author, with relation to whom, many controversies may
be started, worthy of the most profound learning, and most indefatigable
diligence.

The first question that naturally arises is: Whether he was a Briton or
a Saxon? I had, at first, conceived some hope that, in this question, in
which not only the idle curiosity of virtuosos, but the honour of two
mighty nations, is concerned, some information might be drawn from the
word _patria_, my country, in the third line; England being not, in
propriety of speech, the country of the Saxons; at least, not at their
first arrival. But, upon farther reflection, this argument appeared not
conclusive, since we find that, in all ages, foreigners have affected to
call England their country, even when, like the Saxons of old, they came
only to plunder it.

An argument in favour of the Britons may, indeed, be drawn from the
tenderness, with which the author seems to lament his country, and the
compassion he shows for its approaching calamities. I, who am a
descendant from the Saxons, and, therefore, unwilling to say any thing
derogatory from the reputation of my forefathers, must yet allow this
argument its full force; for it has been rarely, very rarely, known,
that foreigners, however well treated, caressed, enriched, flattered, or
exalted, have regarded this country with the least gratitude or
affection, till the race has, by long continuance, after many
generations, been naturalized and assimilated.

They have been ready, upon all occasions, to prefer the petty interests
of their own country, though, perhaps, only some desolate and worthless
corner of the world. They have employed the wealth of England, in paying
troops to defend mud-wall towns, and uninhabitable rocks, and in
purchasing barriers for territories, of which the natural sterility
secured them from invasion.

This argument, which wants no particular instances to confirm it, is, I
confess, of the greatest weight in this question, and inclines me
strongly to believe, that the benevolent author of this prediction must
have been born a Briton.

The learned discoverer of the inscription was pleased to insist, with
great warmth, upon the etymology of the word _patria_, which signifying,
says he, _the land of my father_, could be made use of by none, but such
whose ancestors had resided here; but, in answer to this demonstration,
as he called it, I only desired him to take notice, how common it is for
intruders of yesterday to pretend the same title with the ancient
proprietors, and, having just received an estate, by voluntary grant, to
erect a claim of _hereditary right_.

Nor is it less difficult to form any satisfactory conjecture, concerning
the rank or condition of the writer, who, contented with a consciousness
of having done his duty, in leaving this solemn warning to his country,
seems studiously to have avoided that veneration, to which his knowledge
of futurity, undoubtedly, entitled him, and those honours, which his
memory might justly claim from the gratitude of posterity; and has,
therefore, left no trace, by which the most sagacious and diligent
inquirer can hope to discover him.

This conduct, alone, ought to convince us, that the prediction is of no
small importance to mankind, since the author of it appears not to have
been influenced by any other motive, than that noble and exalted
philanthropy, which is above the narrow views of recompense or applause.

That interest had no share in this inscription, is evident beyond
dispute, since the age in which he lived received neither pleasure nor
instruction from it. Nor is it less apparent, from the suppression of
his name, that he was equally a stranger to that wild desire of fame,
which has, sometimes, infatuated the noblest minds.

His modesty, however, has not been able wholly to extinguish that
curiosity, which so naturally leads us, when we admire a performance, to
inquire after the author. Those, whom I have consulted on this occasion;
and my zeal for the honour of this benefactor of my country has not
suffered me to forget a single antiquary of reputation, have, almost
unanimously, determined, that it was written by a king. For where else,
said they, are we to expect that greatness of mind, and that dignity of
expression, so eminently conspicuous in this inscription!

It is with a proper sense of the weakness of my own abilities, that I
venture to lay before the publick the reasons which hinder me from
concurring with this opinion, which I am not only inclined to favour by
my respect for the authors of it, but by a natural affection for
monarchy, and a prevailing inclination to believe, that every excellence
is inherent in a king.

To condemn an opinion so agreeable to the reverence due to the regal
dignity, and countenanced by so great authorities, without a long and
accurate discussion, would be a temerity justly liable to the severest
censures. A. supercilious and arrogant determination of a controversy of
such importance, would, doubtless, be treated by the impartial and
candid with the utmost indignation.

But as I have too high an idea of the learning of my contemporaries, to
obtrude any crude, hasty, or indigested notions on the publick, I have
proceeded with the utmost degree of diffidence and caution; I have
frequently reviewed all my arguments, traced them backwards to their
first principles, and used every method of examination to discover,
whether all the deductions were natural and just, and whether I was not
imposed on by some specious fallacy; but the farther I carried my
inquiries, and the longer I dwelt upon this great point, the more was I
convinced, in spite of all my prejudices, that this wonderful prediction
was not written by a king.

For, after a laborious and attentive perusal of histories, memoirs,
chronicles, lives, characters, vindications, panegyricks and epitaphs, I
could find no sufficient authority for ascribing to any of our English
monarchs, however gracious or glorious, any prophetical knowledge or
prescience of futurity; which, when we consider how rarely regal virtues
are forgotten, how soon they are discovered, and how loudly they are
celebrated, affords a probable argument, at least, that none of them
have laid any claim to this character. For why should historians have
omitted to embellish their accounts with such a striking circumstance?
or, if the histories of that age are lost, by length of time, why was
not so uncommon an excellence transmitted to posterity, in the more
lasting colours of poetry? Was that unhappy age without a laureate? Was
there then no Young [19] or Philips [20], no Ward [21] or Mitchell [22],
to snatch such wonders from oblivion, and immortalize a prince of such
capacities? If this was really the case, let us congratulate ourselves
upon being reserved for better days; days so fruitful of happy writers,
that no princely virtue can shine in vain. Our monarchs are surrounded
with refined spirits, so penetrating, that they frequently discover, in
their masters, great qualities, invisible to vulgar eyes, and which, did
not they publish them to mankind, would be unobserved for ever.

Nor is it easy to find, in the lives of our monarchs, many instances of
that regard for posterity, which seems to have been the prevailing
temper of this venerable man. I have seldom, in any of the gracious
speeches delivered from the throne, and received, with the highest
gratitude and satisfaction, by both houses of parliament, discovered any
other concern than for the current year, for which supplies are
generally demanded in very pressing terms, and, sometimes, such as imply
no remarkable solicitude for posterity.

Nothing, indeed, can be more unreasonable and absurd, than to require,
that a monarch, distracted with cares and surrounded with enemies,
should involve himself in superfluous anxieties, by an unnecessary
concern about future generations. Are not pretenders, mock-patriots,
masquerades, operas, birthnights, treaties, conventions, reviews,
drawing-rooms, the births of heirs, and the deaths of queens, sufficient
to overwhelm any capacity but that of a king? Surely, he that acquits
himself successfully of such affairs may content himself with the glory
he acquires, and leave posterity to his successours.

That this has been the conduct of most princes, is evident from the
accounts of all ages and nations; and, therefore, I hope it will not be
thought that I have, without just reasons, deprived this inscription of
the veneration it might demand, as the work of a king.

With what laborious struggles against prejudice and inclination, with
what efforts of reasoning, and pertinacity of self-denial, I have
prevailed upon myself to sacrifice the honour of this monument to the
love of truth, none, who are unacquainted with the fondness of a
commentator, will be able to conceive. But this instance will be, I
hope, sufficient to convince the publick, that I write with sincerity,
and that, whatever my success may be, my intentions are good.

Where we are to look for our author, it still remains to be considered;
whether in the high road of publick employments, or the by-paths of
private life.

It has always been observed of those that frequent a court, that they
soon, by a kind of contagion, catch the regal spirit of neglecting
futurity. The minister forms an expedient to suspend, or perplex, an
inquiry into his measures, for a few months, and applauds and triumphs
in his own dexterity. The peer puts off his creditor for the present
day, and forgets that he is ever to see him more. The frown of a prince,
and the loss of a pension, have, indeed, been found of wonderful
efficacy to abstract men's thoughts from the present time, and fill them
with zeal for the liberty and welfare of ages to come. But, I am
inclined to think more favourably of the author of this prediction, than
that he was made a patriot by disappointment or disgust. If he ever saw
a court, I would willingly believe, that he did not owe his concern for
posterity to his ill reception there, but his ill reception there to his
concern for posterity.

However, since truth is the same in the mouth of a hermit, or a prince,
since it is not reason, but weakness, that makes us rate counsel by our
esteem for the counsellor, let us, at length, desist from this inquiry,
so useless in itself, in which we have room to hope for so little
satisfaction. Let us show our gratitude to the author, by answering his
intentions, by considering minutely the lines which he has left us, and
examining their import without heat, precipitancy, or party-prejudices;
let us endeavour to keep the just mean, between searching, ambitiously,
for far-fetched interpretations, and admitting such low meaning, and
obvious and low sense, as is inconsistent with those great and extensive
views, which it is reasonable to ascribe to this excellent man.

It may be yet further asked, whether this inscription, which appears in
the stone, be an original, and not rather a version of a traditional
prediction, in the old British tongue, which the zeal of some learned
man prompted him to translate and engrave, in a more known language, for
the instruction of future ages: but, as the lines carry, at the first
view, a reference both to the stone itself, and, very remarkably, to the
place where it was found, I cannot see any foundation for such a
suspicion.

It remains, now, that we examine the sense and import of the
inscription, which, after having long dwelt upon it, with the closest
and most laborious attention, I must confess myself not yet able fully
to comprehend. The following explications, therefore, are, by no means,
laid down as certain and indubitable truths, but as conjectures not
always wholly satisfactory, even to myself, and which I had not dared to
propose to so enlightened an age, an age which abounds with those great
ornaments of human nature, skepticks, antimoralists, and infidels, but
with hopes that they would excite some person of greater abilities, to
penetrate further into the oraculous obscurity of this wonderful
prediction.

Not even the four first lines are without their difficulties, in which
the time of the discovery of the stone seems to be the time assigned for
the events foretold by it:

"Cum lapidem hunc, magni
Qui nunc jacet incola stagni,
Vel pede equus tanget,
Vel arator vomere franget,
Sentiet ægra metus,
Effundet patria fletus,
Littoraque ut fluctu,
Resonabunt oppida luctu. "

"Whene'er this stone, now hid beneath the lake,
The horse shall trample, or the plough shall break,
Then, O my country, shall thou groan distrest,
Grief in thine eyes, and terrour in thy breast.
Thy streets with violence of woe shall sound,
Loud as the billows bursting on the ground. "

"When this stone," says he, "which now lies hid beneath the waters of a
deep lake, shall be struck upon by the horse, or broken by the plough,
then shalt thou, my country, be astonished with terrours, and drowned in
tears; then shall thy towns sound with lamentations, as thy shores with
the roarings of the waves. " These are the words literally rendered, but
how are they verified! The lake is dry, the stone is turned up, but
there is no appearance of this dismal scene. Is not all, at home,
satisfaction and tranquillity? all, abroad, submission and compliance?
Is it the interest, or inclination, of any prince, or state, to draw a
sword against us? and are we not, nevertheless, secured by a numerous
standing army, and a king who is, himself, an army? Have our troops any
other employment than to march to a review? Have our fleets encountered
any thing but winds and worms? To me the present state of the nation
seems so far from any resemblance to the noise and agitation of a
tempestuous sea, that it may be much more properly compared to the dead
stillness of the waves before a storm.

"Nam foecunda rubri
Serpent per prata colubri,
Gramina vastantes,
Flores fructusque vorantes,
Omnia foedantes,
Vitiantes, et spoliantes;
Quanquam haud pugnaces,
Ibunt per cuncta minaces,
Fures absque timore,
Et pingues absque labore. "

"Then through thy fields shall scarlet reptiles stray,
And rapine and pollution mark their way;
Their hungry swarms the peaceful vale shall fright,
Still fierce to threaten, still afraid to fight;
The teeming year's whole product shall devour,
Insatiate pluck the fruit, and crop the flow'r;
Shall glutton on the industrious peasants' spoil,
Rob without fear, and fatten without toil. "

He seems, in these verses, to descend to a particular account of this
dreadful calamity; but his description is capable of very different
senses, with almost equal probability:

"Red serpents," says he, (_rubri colubri_ are the Latin words, which the
poetical translator has rendered _scarlet reptiles_, using a general
term for a particular, in my opinion, too licentiously,) "Red serpents
shall wander o'er her meadows, and pillage, and pollute," &c. The
particular mention of the colour of this destructive viper may be some
guide to us in this labyrinth, through which, I must acknowledge, I
cannot yet have any certain path. I confess, that, when a few days after
my perusal of this passage, I heard of the multitude of lady-birds seen
in Kent, I began to imagine that these were the fatal insects, by which
the island was to be laid waste, and, therefore, looked over all
accounts of them with uncommon concern. But, when my first terrours
began to subside, I soon recollected that these creatures, having both
wings and feet, would scarcely have been called serpents; and was
quickly convinced, by their leaving the country, without doing any hurt,
that they had no quality, but the colour, in common with the ravagers
here described.

As I am not able to determine any thing on this question, I shall
content myself with collecting, into one view, the several properties of
this pestiferous brood, with which we are threatened, as hints to more
sagacious and fortunate readers, who, when they shall find any red
animal, that ranges uncontrouled over the country, and devours the
labours of the trader and the husbandman; that carries with it
corruption, rapine, pollution, and devastation; that threatens without
courage, robs without fear, and is pampered without labour, they may
know that the prediction is completed. Let me only remark further, that
if the style of this, as of all other predictions, is figurative, the
serpent, a wretched animal that crawls upon the earth, is a proper
emblem of low views, self-interest, and base submission, as well as of
cruelty, mischief, and malevolence.

I cannot forbear to observe, in this place, that, as it is of no
advantage to mankind to be forewarned of inevitable and insurmountable
misfortunes, the author, probably, intended to hint to his countrymen
the proper remedies for the evils he describes. In this calamity, on
which he dwells longest, and which he seems to deplore with the deepest
sorrow, he points out one circumstance, which may be of great use to
disperse our apprehensions, and awaken us from that panick which the
reader must necessarily feel, at the first transient view of this
dreadful description. These serpents, says the original, are "haud
pugnaces," of no fighting race; they will threaten, indeed, and hiss,
and terrify the weak, and timorous, and thoughtless, but have no real
courage or strength. So that the mischief done by them, their ravages,
devastations, and robberies, must be only the consequences of cowardice
in the sufferers, who are harassed and oppressed, only because they
suffer it without resistance. We are, therefore, to remember, whenever
the pest, here threatened, shall invade us, that submission and tameness
will be certain ruin, and that nothing but spirit, vigilance, activity,
and opposition, can preserve us from the most hateful and reproachful
misery, that of being plundered, starved, and devoured by vermin and by
reptiles.

"Horrida dementes
Rapiet discordia gentes;
Plurima tunc leges
Mutabit, plurima reges
Natio. "

"Then o'er the world shall discord stretch her wings,
Kings change their laws, and kingdoms change their kings. "

Here the author takes a general survey of the state of the world, and
the changes that were to happen, about the time of the discovery of this
monument, in many nations. As it is not likely that he intended to touch
upon the affairs of other countries, any farther than the advantage of
his own made it necessary, we may reasonably conjecture, that he had a
full and distinct view of all the negotiations, treaties, confederacies,
of all the triple and quadruple alliances, and all the leagues offensive
and defensive, in which we were to be engaged, either as principals,
accessaries, or guarantees, whether by policy, or hope, or fear, or our
concern for preserving the balance of power, or our tenderness for the
liberties of Europe. He knew that our negotiators would interest us in
the affairs of the whole earth, and that no state could either rise or
decline in power, either extend or lose its dominions, without affecting
politicks, and influencing our councils.

This passage will bear an easy and natural application to the present
time, in which so many revolutions have happened, so many nations have
changed their masters, and so many disputes and commotions are
embroiling, almost in every part of the world.

That almost every state in Europe and Asia, that is, almost every
country, then known, is comprehended in this prediction, may be easily
conceived, but whether it extends to regions at that time undiscovered,
and portends any alteration of government in Carolina and Georgia, let
more able or more daring expositors determine:

"Conversa
In rabiem tunc contremet ursa
Cynthia. "

"The bear, enrag'd, th' affrighted moon shall dread. "

The terrour created to the moon by the anger of the bear, is a strange
expression, but may, perhaps, relate to the apprehensions raised in the
Turkish empire, of which a crescent, or new moon, is the imperial
standard, by the increasing power of the emperess of Russia, whose
dominions lie under the northern constellation, called the Bear.

"Tunc latis
Florebunt lilia pratis. "

"The lilies o'er the vales triumphant spread. "

The lilies borne by the kings of France are an apt representation of
that country; and their flourishing over wide-extended valleys, seems to
regard the new increase of the French power, wealth, and dominions by
the advancement of their trade, and the accession of Lorrain. This is,
at first view, an obvious, but, perhaps, for that very reason not the
true sense of the inscription. How can we reconcile it with the
following passage:

"Nec fremere audebit
Leo, sed violare timebit,
Omnia consuetus
Populari pascua laetus. "

"Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign
Despotick o'er the desolated plain,
Henceforth, th' inviolable bloom invade,
Or dare to murmur in the flow'ry glade,"

in which the lion that used, at pleasure, to lay the pastures waste, is
represented, as not daring to touch the lilies, or murmur at their
growth! The lion, it is true, is one of the supporters of the arms of
England, and may, therefore, figure our countrymen, who have, in ancient
times, made France a desert. But can it be said, that the lion dares not
murmur or rage, (for _fremere_ may import both,) when it is evident,
that, for many years, this whole kingdom has murmured, however, it may
be, at present, calm and secure, by its confidence in the wisdom of our
politicians, and the address of our negotiators:

"Ante oculos natos
Calceatos et cruciatos
Jam feret ignavus,
Vetitaque libidine pravus. "

"His tortur'd sons shall die before his face,
While he lies melting in a lewd embrace. "

Here are other things mentioned of the lion, equally unintelligible, if
we suppose them to be spoken of our nation, as that he lies sluggish,
and depraved with unlawful lusts, while his offspring is trampled and
tortured before his eyes. But in what place can the English be said to
be trampled or tortured? Where are they treated with injustice or
contempt? What nation is there, from pole to pole, that does not
reverence the nod of the British king? Is not our commerce
unrestrained? Are not the riches of the world our own? Do not our ships
sail unmolested, and our merchants traffick in perfect security? Is not
the very name of England treated by foreigners in a manner never known
before? Or if some slight injuries have been offered; if some of our
petty traders have been stopped, our possessions threatened; our effects
confiscated; our flag insulted; or our ears cropped, have we lain
sluggish and unactive? Have not our fleets been seen in triumph at
Spithead? Did not Hosier visit the Bastimentos, and is not Haddock now
stationed at Port Mahon?

"En quoque quod mirum,
Quod dicas denique dirum,
Sanguinem equus sugit,
Neque bellua victa remugit! "

"And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,
Nor shall the passive coward once complain! "

It is farther asserted, in the concluding lines, that the horse shall
suck the lion's blood. This is still more obscure than any of the rest;
and, indeed, the difficulties I have met with, ever since the first
mention of the lion, are so many and great, that I had, in utter despair
of surmounting them, once desisted from my design of publishing any
thing upon this subject; but was prevailed upon by the importunity of
some friends, to whom I can deny nothing, to resume my design; and I
must own, that nothing animated me so much as the hope, they flattered
me with, that my essay might be inserted in the Gazetteer, and, so,
become of service to my country.

That a weaker animal should suck the blood of a stronger, without
resistance, is wholly improbable, and inconsistent with the regard for
self-preservation, so observable in every order and species of beings.
We must, therefore, necessarily endeavour after some figurative sense,
not liable to so insuperable an objection.

Were I to proceed in the same tenour of interpretation, by which I
explained the moon and the lilies, I might observe, that a horse is the
arms of H----. But how, then, does the horse suck the lion's blood!
Money is the blood of the body politick. --But my zeal for the present
happy establishment will not suffer me to pursue a train of thought,
that leads to such shocking conclusions. The idea is detestable, and
such as, it ought to be hoped, can enter into the mind of none but a
virulent republican, or bloody jacobite. There is not one honest man in
the nation unconvinced, how weak an attempt it would be to endeavour to
confute this insinuation; an insinuation which no party will dare to
abet, and of so fatal and destructive a tendency, that it may prove
equally dangerous to the author, whether true or false.

As, therefore, I can form no hypothesis, on which a consistent
interpretation may be built, I must leave these loose and unconnected
hints entirely to the candour of the reader, and confess, that I do not
think my scheme of explication just, since I cannot apply it, throughout
the whole, without involving myself in difficulties, from which the
ablest interpreter would find it no easy matter to get free.

Being, therefore, convinced, upon an attentive and deliberate review of
these observations, and a consultation with my friends, of whose
abilities I have the highest esteem, and whose impartiality, sincerity,
and probity, I have long known, and frequently experienced, that my
conjectures are, in general, very uncertain, often improbable, and,
sometimes, little less than apparently false, I was long in doubt,
whether I ought not entirely to suppress them, and content myself with
publishing in the Gazetteer the inscription, as it stands engraven on
the stone, without translation or commentary, unless that ingenious and
learned society should favour the world with their own remarks.

To this scheme, which I thought extremely well calculated for the
publick good, and, therefore, very eagerly communicated to my
acquaintance and fellow-students, some objections were started, which,
as I had not foreseen, I was unable to answer.

It was observed, first, that the daily dissertations, published by that
fraternity, are written with such profundity of sentiment, and filled
with such uncommon modes of expression, as to be themselves sufficiently
unintelligible to vulgar readers; and that, therefore, the venerable
obscurity of this prediction, would much less excite the curiosity, and
awaken the attention of mankind, than if it were exhibited in any other
paper, and placed in opposition to the clear and easy style of an author
generally understood.

To this argument, formidable as it was, I answered, after a short pause,
that, with all proper deference to the great sagacity and advanced age
of the objector, I could not but conceive, that his position confuted
itself, and that a reader of the Gazetteer, being, by his own
confession, accustomed to encounter difficulties, and search for
meaning, where it was not easily to be found, must be better prepared,
than any other man, for the perusal of these ambiguous expressions; and
that, besides, the explication of this stone, being a task which nothing
could surmount but the most acute penetration, joined with indefatigable
patience, seemed, in reality, reserved for those who have given proofs
of both, in the highest degree, by reading and understanding the
Gazetteer.

This answer satisfied every one but the objector, who, with an obstinacy
not very uncommon, adhered to his own opinion, though he could not
defend it; and, not being able to make any reply, attempted to laugh
away my argument, but found the rest of my friends so little disposed to
jest upon this important question, that he was forced to restrain his
mirth, and content himself with a sullen and contemptuous silence.

Another of my friends, whom I had assembled on this occasion, having
owned the solidity of my answer to the first objection, offered a
second, which, in his opinion, could not be so easily defeated.

"I have observed," says he, "that the essays in the Gazetteer, though
written on very important subjects, by the ablest hands which ambition
can incite, friendship engage, or money procure, have never, though
circulated through the kingdom with the utmost application, had any
remarkable influence upon the people. I know many persons, of no common
capacity, that hold it sufficient to peruse these papers four times a
year; and others, who receive them regularly, and, without looking upon
them, treasure them under ground for the benefit of posterity. So that
the inscription may, by being inserted there, sink, once more, into
darkness and oblivion, instead of informing the age, and assisting our
present ministry in the regulation of their measures. "

Another observed, that nothing was more unreasonable than my hope, that
any remarks or elucidations would be drawn up by that fraternity, since
their own employments do not allow them any leisure for such attempts.
Every one knows that panegyrick is, in its own nature, no easy task, and
that to defend is much more difficult than to attack; consider, then,
says he, what industry, what assiduity it must require, to praise and
vindicate a ministry like ours.

It was hinted, by another, that an inscription, which had no relation to
any particular set of men amongst us, but was composed many ages before
the parties, which now divide the nation, had a being, could not be so
properly conveyed to the world, by means of a paper dedicated to
political debates.

Another, to whom I had communicated my own observations, in a more
private manner, and who had inserted some of his own arguments, declared
it, as his opinion, that they were, though very controvertible and
unsatisfactory, yet too valuable to be lost; and that though to insert
the inscription in a paper, of which such numbers are daily distributed
at the expense of the publick, would, doubtless, be very agreeable to
the generous design of the author; yet he hoped, that as all the
students, either of politicks or antiquities, would receive both
pleasure and improvement from the dissertation with which it is
accompanied, none of them would regret to pay for so agreeable an
entertainment.

It cannot be wondered, that I have yielded, at last, to such weighty
reasons, and such insinuating compliments, and chosen to gratify, at
once, the inclinations of friends, and the vanity of an author. Yet, I
should think, I had very imperfectly discharged my duty to my country,
did I not warn all, whom either interest or curiosity shall incite to
the perusal of this treatise, not to lay any stress upon my
explications.

How a more complete and indisputable interpretation may be obtained, it
is not easy to say. This will, I suppose, be readily granted, that it is
not to be expected from any single hand, but from the joint inquiries,
and united labours, of a numerous society of able men, instituted by
authority, selected with great discernment and impartiality, and
supported at the charge of the nation.

I am very far from apprehending, that any proposal for the attainment of
so desirable an end, will be rejected by this inquisitive and
enlightened age, and shall, therefore, lay before the publick the
project which I have formed, and matured by long consideration, for the
institution of a society of commentators upon this inscription.

I humbly propose, that thirty of the most distinguished genius be chosen
for this employment, half from the inns of court, and half from the
army, and be incorporated into a society for five years, under the name
of the Society of Commentators.

That great undertakings can only be executed by a great number of hands,
is too evident to require any proof; and, I am afraid, all that read
this scheme will think, that it is chiefly defective in this respect,
and that when they reflect how many commissaries were thought necessary
at Seville, and that even their negotiations entirely miscarried,
probably for want of more associates, they will conclude, that I have
proposed impossibilities, and that the ends of the institution will be
defeated by an injudicious and ill timed frugality.

But if it be considered, how well the persons, I recommend, must have
been qualified, by their education and profession, for the provinces
assigned them, the objection will grow less weighty than it appears. It
is well known to be the constant study of the lawyers to discover, in
acts of parliament, meanings which escaped the committees that drew them
up, and the senates that passed them into laws, and to explain wills,
into a sense wholly contrary to the intention of the testator. How
easily may an adept in these admirable and useful arts, penetrate into
the most hidden import of this prediction? A man, accustomed to satisfy
himself with the obvious and natural meaning of a sentence, does not
easily shake off his habit; but a true-bred lawyer never contents
himself with one sense, when there is another to be found.

Nor will the beneficial consequences of this scheme terminate in the
explication of this monument: they will extend much further; for the
commentators, having sharpened and improved their sagacity by this long
and difficult course of study, will, when they return into publick life,
be of wonderful service to the government, in examining pamphlets,
songs, and journals, and in drawing up informations, indictments, and
instructions for special juries. They will be wonderfully fitted for the
posts of attorney and solicitor general, but will excel, above all, as
licensers for the stage.

The gentlemen of the army will equally adorn the province to which I
have assigned them, of setting the discoveries and sentiments of their
associates in a clear and agreeable light. The lawyers are well known
not to be very happy in expressing their ideas, being, for the most
part, able to make themselves understood by none but their own
fraternity. But the geniuses of the army have sufficient opportunities,
by their free access to the levee and the toilet, their constant
attendance on balls and assemblies, and that abundant leisure which they
enjoy, beyond any other body of men, to acquaint themselves with every
new word, and prevailing mode of expression, and to attain the utmost
nicety, and most polished prettiness of language.

It will be necessary, that, during their attendance upon the society,
they be exempt from any obligation to appear on Hyde park; and that upon
no emergency, however pressing, they be called away from their studies,
unless the nation be in immediate danger, by an insurrection of weavers,
colliers, or smugglers.

There may not, perhaps, be found in the army such a number of men, who
have ever condescended to pass through the labours, and irksome forms of
education in use, among the lower classes of people, or submitted to
learn the mercantile and plebeian arts of writing and reading. I must
own, that though I entirely agree with the notions of the uselessness of
any such trivial accomplishments in the military profession, and of
their inconsistency with more valuable attainments; though I am
convinced, that a man who can read and write becomes, at least, a very
disagreeable companion to his brother soldiers, if he does not
absolutely shun their acquaintance; that he is apt to imbibe, from his
books, odd notions of liberty and independency, and even, sometimes, of
morality and virtue, utterly inconsistent, with the desirable character
of a pretty gentleman; though writing frequently stains the whitest
finger, and reading has a natural tendency to cloud the aspect, and
depress that airy and thoughtless vivacity, which is the distinguishing
characteristick of a modern warriour; yet, on this single occasion, I
cannot but heartily wish, that, by a strict search, there may be
discovered, in the army, fifteen men who can write and read.

I know that the knowledge of the alphabet is so disreputable among these
gentlemen, that those who have, by ill fortune, formerly been taught it,
have partly forgot it by disuse, and partly concealed it from the world,
to avoid the railleries and insults to which their education might make
them liable: I propose, therefore, that all the officers of the army may
be examined upon oath, one by one, and that if fifteen cannot be
selected, who are, at present, so qualified, the deficiency may be
supplied out of those who, having once learned to read, may, perhaps,
with the assistance of a master, in a short time, refresh their
memories.

It may be thought, at the first sight of this proposal, that it might
not be improper to assign, to every commentator, a reader and secretary;
but, it may be easily conceived, that not only the publick might murmur
at such an addition of expense, but that, by the unfaithfulness or
negligence of their servants, the discoveries of the society may be
carried to foreign courts, and made use of to the disadvantage of our
own country.

For the residence of this society, I cannot think any place more proper
than Greenwich hospital, in which they may have thirty apartments fitted
up for them, that they may make their observations in private, and meet,
once a day, in the painted hall to compare them.

If the establishment of this society be thought a matter of too much
importance to be deferred till the new buildings are finished, it will
be necessary to make room for their reception, by the expulsion of such
of the seamen as have no pretensions to the settlement there, but
fractured limbs, loss of eyes, or decayed constitutions, who have lately
been admitted in such numbers, that it is now scarce possible to
accommodate a nobleman's groom, footman, or postilion, in a manner
suitable to the dignity of his profession, and the original design of
the foundation.

The situation of Greenwich will naturally dispose them to reflection and
study: and particular caution ought to be used, lest any interruption be
suffered to dissipate their attention, or distract their meditations:
for this reason, all visits and letters from ladies are strictly to be
prohibited; and if any of the members shall be detected with a lapdog,
pack of cards, box of dice, draught-table, snuffbox, or looking-glass,
he shall, for the first offence, be confined for three months to water
gruel, and, for the second, be expelled the society.

Nothing now remains, but that an estimate be made of the expenses
necessary for carrying on this noble and generous design. The salary to
be allowed each professor cannot be less than 2,000_l_. a year, which
is, indeed, more than the regular stipend of a commissioner of excise;
but, it must be remembered, that the commentators have a much more
difficult and important employment, and can expect their salaries but
for the short space of five years; whereas a commissioner (unless he
imprudently suffers himself to be carried away by a whimsical tenderness
for his country) has an establishment for life.

It will be necessary to allow the society, in general, 30,000_l_.
yearly, for the support of the publick table, and 40,000_l_. for secret
service.

Thus will the ministry have a fair prospect of obtaining the full sense
and import of the prediction, without burdening the publick with more
than 650,000_l_. which may be paid out of the sinking fund; or, if it be
not thought proper to violate that sacred treasure, by converting any
part of it to uses not primarily intended, may be easily raised by a
general poll-tax, or excise upon bread.

Having now completed my scheme, a scheme calculated for the publick
benefit, without regard to any party, I entreat all sects, factions, and
distinctions of men among us, to lay aside, for a time, their
party-feuds and petty animosities; and, by a warm concurrence on this
urgent occasion, teach posterity to sacrifice every private interest to
the advantage of their country.

[In this performance, which was first printed in the year 1739, Dr.
Johnson, "in a feigned inscription, supposed to have been found in
Norfolk, the country of sir Robert Walpole, then the obnoxious prime
minister of this country, inveighs against the Brunswick succession, and
the measures of government consequent upon it. To this supposed
prophecy, he added a commentory, making each expression apply to the
times, with warm anti-Hanoverian zeal. "--Boswell's Life, i. ]




OBSERVATIONS ON THE STATE OF AFFAIRS IN 1756 [23].


The time is now come, in which every Englishman expects to be informed
of the national affairs, and in which he has a right to have that
expectation gratified. For whatever may be urged by ministers, or those
whom vanity or interest make the followers of ministers, concerning the
necessity of confidence in our governours, and the presumption of
prying, with profane eyes, into the recesses of policy, it is evident,
that this reverence can be claimed only by counsels yet unexecuted, and
projects suspended in deliberation. But when a design has ended in
miscarriage or success, when every eye, and every ear, is witness to
general discontent, or general satisfaction, it is then a proper time to
disentangle confusion, and illustrate obscurity; to show by what causes
every event was produced, and in what effects it is likely to terminate;
to lay down, with distinct particularity, what rumour always huddles in
general exclamations, or perplexes by undigested narratives; to show
whence happiness or calamity is derived, and whence it may be expected;
and honestly to lay before the people, what inquiry can gather of the
past, and conjecture can estimate of the future.

The general subject of the present war is sufficiently known.