it is unjuft to cenfure the latter when they confider him as born for no human purpose. Their pleasures and their forrows are not his pleafures and his forrows. He often appears to flumber in dishonourable ease, while his days are parfed in labours, more conftant and more painful than those of the manufacturer. The world is not always aware that to meditate, to compose, and even to converse with some, are great labours: and as Hawkefworth obferves," that weariness may be contracted in an arm chair."

Such men are alfo cenfured for an irritability of difpofition. Many reasons might apologize for thefe unhappy variations of humour. The occupation of making a great name, is, perhaps, more anxious and precarious than that of making a great fortune. We fympathife with the merchant when he communicates melancholy to the focial circle in confequence of a bankruptcy, or when he feels the elation of profperity at the fuccefs of a vaft fpeculation. The author is not lefs immersed in cares, or agitated by fuccefs, for literature has it's bankruptcies and it's fpeculations.

The anxieties and disappointments of an author, even of the most fuccessful, are incalculable. If he is learned, learning is the torment of unquenchable thirst, and his elaborate work is exposed to the accidental recollection of an inferior mind, as well as the fatal omiffions of wearied vigilance. If he excels in the magic of diction, and the graces of fancy, his path is ftrewed with rofes, but his feet bleed on invifible yet piercing thorns. Rouffeau has given a glowing defcription of the ceaseless inquietudes by which he acquired skill in the arts of compofition; and has faid, that with whatever talent a man may be born, the art of writing is not easily obtained.'—

It is obferved by M. La Harpe (an author by profeffion) that as it has been proved there are fome maladies peculiar to artists, there are alfo forrows which are peculiar to them; and which the world can neither pity nor foften, because it cannot have their conceptions. We read not without a melancholy emotion, the querulous expreffions of men of genius. We have a little catalogue de calamitate Litteratorum; we might add a volume by the addition of most of our own authors.'-

The votaries of the arts and sciences are called by Cicero, Heroes of Peace; their labours, their dangers, and their intrepidity, make them heroes; but peace is rarely the ornament of their feverish existence.'

Some are now only agreeable, who might have been great writers, had their application to ftudy, and the modes of their life been different. In Mr. Greaves' lively recollections of his friend Shenftone, are fome judicious obfervations on this fubject. He has drawn a comparison between the elevated abilities of Gray, and the humble talents of Shenstone: and he has essayed to fhew, that it was the accidental circumstances of Gray's place of birth, education, his admittance into fome of the best circles, and his affiduous application to fcience, which gave him that fuperiority over the indolence, the retirement, and the inertion of a want of patronage, which made Shenftone, as Gray familiarly faid, "hop round his walks" like a bird in a ftring.'

Men of genius are often reverenced only where they are known by their writings. In the romance of life they are divinities, in it's

Dd 4

history

history they are men. From errors of the mind, and derelictions of the heart, they may not be exempt; thefe are perceived by their acquaintance, who can often difcern only thefe qualities. The defects of great men are the confolation of the dunces.'

For their foibles it appears more difficult to account than for their vices; for a violent paffion depends on its direction to become either excellence or depravity; but why their exalted mind fhould not preferve them from the imbecilities of fools, appears a mere caprice of nature. A curious lift may be formed of

"Fears of the brave and follies of the wife." Johnson. In the note underneath I have thrown together a few facts which may be passed over by those who have no tafte for literary anecdotes *.

But it is alfo neceffary to acknowledge, that men of genius are often unjustly reproached with foibles. The fports of a vacant mind, are mifunderstood as follies. The fimplicity of truth may appear vanity, and the confcioufnefs of fuperiority, envy. Nothing is more ufual than our furprise at fome great writer or artist contemning the labours of another, whom the public cherish with equal approbation. We place it to the account of his envy, but perhaps this opinion is erroneous, and claims a concife investigation.

Every fuperior writer has a MANNER of his own, with which he has been long converfant, and too often inclines to judge of the merit of a performance by the degree it attains of his favourite manner. He errs, because impartial men of tafte are addicted to no manner, but love whatever is exquifite. We often fee readers draw their degree of comparative merit from the manner of their favourite author; an author does the fame; that is, he draws it from himself. Such a partial standard of tafte is erroneous; but it is more excufable in the author than in the reader.

*Voiture was the fon of a vintner, and like our Prior, was fo mortified whenever reminded of his original occupation, that it was faid of him, that wine which cheared the heart of all men, fickened that of Voiture. Rouffeau, the poet, was the son of a cobler; and when his honeft parent waited at the door of the theatre, to embrace his fon on the fuccefs of his firft piece, the inhuman poet repulfed the venerable father with infult and contempt. Akenfide ever confidered his lameness as an unfupportable misfortune, fince it continually reminded him of his origin, being occafioned by the fall of a cleaver from one of his father's blocks, a refpectable butcher. Milton delighted in contemplating his own perfon, and the engraver not having reached our fublime bard's "ideal grace," he has pointed his indignation in four iambics. Among the complaints of Pope, is that of the pictured fhape." Even the ftrong-minded Johnfon would not be painted "blinking Sam." Mr. Bofwell tells us that Goldfiith attempted to fhew his agility to be fuperior to the dancing of an ape, whofe praise had occafioned him a fit of jealoufy, but he failed in imitating his rival. The infcription under Boileau's portrait, defcribing his character with lavish panegyric, and a preference to Juvenal and Horace, is unfortunately known to have been written by himself.'

13

This

This obfervation will ferve to explain feveral curious phenomena in literature. The witty Cowley defpifed the natural Chaucer; the claffical Boileau, the rough fublimity of Crebillon; the forcible Corneille, the tender Racine; the affected Marivaux, the familiar Moliere; the artificial Gray, the fimple Shenftone. Each alike judged by that peculiar manner he had long formed. In a free converfation they might have contemned each other; and a dunce, who had liftened without taste or understanding, if he had been a haberdasher in anecdotes, would have haftened to repofit in his warehouse of literary falfities, a long declamation on the vanity and envy of these great men.'

It has long been acknowledged that every work of merit, the more it is examined, the greater the merit will appear. The most mafterly touches, and the referved graces, which form the pride of the artist, are not obfervable till after a familiar and conftant meditation. What is most refined is least obvious; and to some must remain unperceived for ever.'

But afcending from these elaborate ftrokes in compofition, to the views and designs of an author, the more profound and extenfive these are, the more they elude the reader's apprehenfion. I refine not too much when I fay, that the author is confcious of beauties, that are not in his compofition. The happieft writers are compelled to fee fome of their most magnificent ideas float along the immenfity of mind, beyond the feeble grasp of expreffion. Compare the ftate of the author with that of the reader; how copious and overflowing is the mind of the one to the other; how more fenfibly alive to a variety of exquifite ftrokes which the other has not yet perceived; the author is familiar with every part, and the reader has but a vague notion of the whole. How many noble conceptions of Rouffeau are not yet mastered! How many profound reflections of Montefquieu are not yet understood! How many fubtile leffons are yet in Locke, which no preceptor can

teach!

Such, among others, are the reasons which may induce an author to express himself in language which may found like vanity. To be admired, is the noble fimplicity of the ancients, (imitated by a few elevated minds among the moderns) in expreffing with ardour the confcioufnefs of genius. We are not more difpleafed with Dryden than with Cicero, when he acquaints us of the great things he has done, and those he purposes to do. Modern modefty might, perhaps, to fome be more engaging, if it were modefty; but our artificial blushes are like the ladies' temporary rouge, ever ready to colour the face on any occafion. Some will not place their names to their books, yet prefix it to their advertisements; others pretend to be the editors of their own works; fome compliment themselves in the third person; and many, concealed under the fhade of anonymous criticism, form panegyrics, as elaborate and long as Pliny's on Trajan, of their works and themselves; yet, in a converfation, start at a compliment, and quarrel at a quotation. Such modeft authors resemble certain ladies, who in public are equally celebrated for the coldest chastity.

• Consciousnels of merit characterises men of genius; but it is to be lamented that the illufions of felf-love are not distinguishable from

the

the realities of conscioufnefs. Yet if we were to take from some their pride of exultation, we annihilate the germ of their excellence. The perfuafion of a juft pofterity fmoothed the fleepless pillow, and fpread a funfhine in the folitude of Bacon, Montefquieu, and Newton; of Cervantes, Gray, and Milton. Men of genius anticipate their contemporaries, and know they are fuch, long before the tardy confent of the public.

They have alfo been accused of the meaneft adulations; it is certain that many have had the weakness to praise unworthy men, and fome the courage to erafe what they have written. A young writer unknown, yet languishing for encouragement, when he first finds the notice of a perfon of fome eminence, has expreffed himself in language which gratitude, a finer reason than reafon itself, infpired. Strongly has Milton expreffed the fenfations of this paffion," the debt immenfe of endless gratitude." Who ever pays an "immenfe debt" in small fums?'

Chap. X. is lively, Chap. XI. ingenious and amusing: but the display of the inconfiftency, infincerity, and infirmities of authors will but render careless readers fceptics in the morality which they preach, and may even degrade literature itself. We will hope that moral writers are in earnest, however charitable it may be to suppose that the authors of licentious books are not fo corrupt as their writings. An antient Greek philofopher used to wifh that the hearts of authors were diaphanous, that the world might fee their real contents.

At the end of our author's humiliating note, which we have juft extracted, on the mental infirmities of writers of the firft clafs, we could not help crying out with Gray :-Ah, tell them, they are men!-An exclamation equally applicable to authors and critics. Indeed, as a contrepoifon to this note, which has "drawn the frailties of the most refpectable authors from their dread abode," we have a long lift of their heroic acts of friendfhip: vide p. 133.

In Chap. XII. where Mr. D'Ifraeli fpeaks of the advantages which induce men of letters to become authors, and laments their paucity, he fhould have recollected the univerfal diffufion of learning; which has fo much augmented the number of claimants for celebrity and refpect, that mediocrity of abilities in writing excites no more wonder than the being a bricklayer or a carpenter; and yet whenever a poet or a writer in profe towers above the reft, he is not fuffered to lie in obfcurity. Pope, Addifon, Boileau, Voltaire, and Metastasio, neither lived nor died in obfcurity.

Chap. XIII., on the utility of authors of the first clafs to a whole nation, is ingenious and juft, and gives the best fide of the medal. The next chapter, on the political influence of authors, is the reverfe. To enlighten a people, till they will fubmit to

no government but that of terror, is not contributing to human happiness. Authors (fays Mr. D'Ifraeli) ftand between the governors and the governed-They awaken, they terrify, they excite, they conduct the people.' If they exercife this power merely to incite difcontent and infubordination, and promife fuch advantages from infurrection and revolution as no nation ever did or can enjoy in any state of civilized fociety, they will do the people no great kindness. There are authors, however, from whofe private characters morality and government have nothing to fear; and others, from whom nothing but mischief is expected, Rational liberty and anarchy are not more hoftile to each other, than writers of this defcription.

Mr. D'Ifraeli complains that authors are neglected by the great; yet, if patronized, they are bribed and corrupted! Poor Johnson was grudged his penfion, and was often abused for it to the time of his death; though, previously to his accepting it, he had been told that "it was not conferred on him for what he was to do, but for what he had already done." In the long and laboured eulogium in this chapter on philofophy, which has lately been fo much difgraced by pretenders to wildom, it seems as if the author would have precluded all equivoque and danger of confounding true philofophers with dreaming theorists, by afcribing to fcience what he has given to philofophy.

The XVth and laft chapter of this fpirited tract is on a fubject concerning which we cannot but be particularly interested. The author here difcuffes the expediency of eftablishing in this country an academy of polite literature, penfions, and prizes. We truft it will not be doubted that we are zealous friends to literature and its worthy votaries; and yet we cannot implicitly subscribe to all the arguments here adduced in favour of this plan.

It seems as if the treatment of men of letters of every class, and the conferring of honours on them, could never be reduced to a practicable system. Academies have been founded by princes, often at an enormous expence: but, if we may believe D'Alembert, who became the head of the most illuftrious of them all, the English have contributed more to the advancement of fcience, unpenfioned, than the natives of any other country aided by royal munificence*.

*« Avouons même à l'honneur des lettres, que les Savans n'ont pas toujours befoin d'être récompensés pour fe multiplier. Témoin l'Angleterre, à qui les Sciences doivent tant, fans que le Gouvernement faffe rien pour elle. Il est vrai que la nation les confidere, qu'elle les refpecle même; et cette espèce de récompenfe, fuperieure à toutes les autres, eft fans doute le moyen le plus sûr de faire fleurir les feiences et les arts."

Difcours prelim. au 1 Tom. de l'Encyclopedie.

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