Here Dr. C. advances the opinions that our unparalleled prosperity is one cause of this high price; and that our population has augmented far beyond general supposition, while there is a real and considerable deficiency in the growth of corn. We apprehend that he is wrong in both these statements. It does not appear, from the actual returns, that our population is so vastly increased; nor has the price of corn, for many years back, indicated any material scarcity. The bad harvest in 1799, which the author does not mention, will account in a great measure for our late deficiency. We have not yet recovered from the loss which we then sustained; and the extent of our warlike exertions has augmented oar difficulties. We trust, however, that another harvest, should it please God to grant us a favourable one, will brighten our prospects; especially if the blessing of peace be added to the gifts of a plentiful season. * ART. XVI. Select Essays of Dio Chrysostom, translated into English WHEN the reader recollects that Dio Chrysostom was dignified by the friendship of Trajan, and particularly distinguished by that excellent Prince, he will not wonder that the late ingenious and learned Mr. Wakefield + should avail himself of his works to beguile the tedious hours of confinement; nor will he be surprized on finding many valuable observations occur in these pages, with so little alloy of false taste, of puerility, and of inconclusive reasoning:-faults chargeable on the Platonic School in all its several stages, and from which its illustrious founder himself was by no means exempt, though they were counterbalanced by the richness of his fancy and the fascinations of his style. We shall make some extracts from Mr. W.'s Preface, in which he gives an account of his author: * See the note in page 191. The fatal effects of a fever have recently deprived the world of this accomplished scholar, when he had not long been released from the imprisonment to which he was sentenced, about two years since, for the publication of a pamphlet which was deemed libellous. Whatever faults might shade his character, particularly in the view of parties, his loss will be long felt and his attainments still longer acknowleged by the literary world. • From From the memorials of DION, or DIO CHRYSOSTOM, which have been transmitted to our times by himself, by Photius, Philostratus, or others, and investigated by Fabricius in that immense and inestimable repository of ancient literature, the Bibliotheca Graca, lib. iv. cap. 10. we collect, that our author was the son of one Pasicrates, that his grandfather was honoured with the title and privileges of a Roman citizen by the reigning emperour of his day; and that he was born at Prusa in Bithynia.' He was familiarly acquainted with Apollonius of Tyana and Euphrates of Tyre, during the reigns of Nero and Vespasian. When he arrived at manhood, he travelled into Egypt and other countries for the improvement of his understanding by a survey of their curiosities, and by conversation with their inhabitants. On his return to Rome, his freedom of speech (that unpardonable offence to all TYRANTS, and the true touchstone of POLITICAL VIRTUE in every community) in conjunction with his friendship for a man of honour, whom Domitian bad put to death, endangered his life with that despotic monster, and drove him into banishment, about the year ninety-four of the Christian æra, with no other companions of his exile besides Plato's dialogue on the Immortality of the Soul, and a single oration of Demosthenes. From the manner in which he mentions the Getæ, Mysians, and Thracians, in several passages of his works, he seems to have penetrated during this pilgrimage to the very extremities of the Roman empire. He was recalled from banishment by Nerva, and was caressed by that emperour, but more particularly by Trajan, who conspicuously displayed his esteem and affection, by admitting our philosopher to accompany him on extraordinary occasions, when he rode in his triumphal chariot through the city. That magnanimous prince, the sovereign of the world, did not think himself disgraced by being seen in the procession of Imperial Rome with a man of letters sitting by his side. Dio's character, as a moral præceptor, an eloquent writer, and a graceful speaker, was in high estimation with his contemporaries and his successors in the same rhetorical department. He acquired the additional name of Cocceianus from his patron Cocceius, and of Chrysostom, or golden mouthed, from the elegance and purity of his compositions: a name, which has occasioned a frequent confusion of our Dio Chrysostom, the heathen philosopher, with John Chrysostom, the Christian preacher, so denominated for the same solid and splen did excellences of his style. In person our author is reasonably presumed, from various circumstances of praise and censure on these topics in his orations, to have been slender, and of inferiour stature. He was married, brought up children, and lived to a good old age.” It is then stated that a second volume of these translations would make its appearance, if the present should meet with public encouragement-but this addition, we suppose, is not now to be expected. Yet it is obvious that curious readers may dérive advantages from the perusal of such a production as this, which they will not reap from a modern performance of even superior merit. A work like this brings them back, by its allusions and illustrations, to those characters and scenes which occupied their youthful studies,-exercises their powers of recollection,and gives them a deeper insight into antient customs and man ners. The subjects of the essays here selected for translation, from the very voluminous productions of Dio, are as follow: Kingly Government; Arbitrary Government; Diogenes, or concerning Servants: Grief; Immoderate Desires; the Cultivation of Letters; Retirement; Happiness; the Conduct of Men at a Public Dinner; Charidemus; a Libyan Fable; concerning the Dæmon; Diogenes, or concerning Virtue; Slavery and Liberty; War and Peace; and Diogenes, or the Isthmian Discourse.-We shall quote a few passages from two or three of the papers. The following sketches of a tyrant's situation and feelings, in the Essay on Arbitrary Government, have much merit : The very summit of absurdity was that, whilst unarmed men were a terror to him, the Persian monarch trusted his life to the fidelity of a military guard; and all, who came into his presence, were searched for weapons, though he lived surrounded by the weapons of his soldiery: so that he fled from unarmed to armed mea, and again from the armed to the unarmed; for he was defended from the populace by his body-guard; and from his body-guard,, by eunuchs. Thus, without confidence and without refuge, there was no man, with whom he could pass a single day disengaged from terrour. His meat and drink were a cause of perpetual suspicion, so that previous tasters were employed; as scouts are sent before in a road infested by an enemy. Nay, even on his dearest relatives could he not repose with comfort and security; neither on wife, nor children. Yet, though royalty was accompanied by such vexations and infelicities; he had neither inclination nor power to dismiss the incumbrance from him; whereas all other calamities of men admit some consolation in the prospect of a temporary respite. The prisoner expects his liberty at some future period; to an exile there is always a possibility of return to his native country; the sick entertain hopes of recovery to the last moment of their lives; but for this monarch no means of deliverance can be found. They too, whom Fortune has afflicted by the death of friends, well know, that Time will at length mitigate their sorrow; but his disquietudes crowd upon. him with perpetual encrease.' To kings alone no gratitude is paid for the favours, which they confer, because such favours are thought inadequate; and those, who fail in the attainment of their requests, are converted into most bitter enemies: not to mention, that men in proportion to their opulence are objects of envy, however justly that opulence may have been ac quired: tyrants of course excite envy above all mankind. Add to this the necessity of gratifying all around him, if he mean to shun instantaneous destruction: but all cannot easily be gratified, without robbing others these are converted into enemies, while the objecta of his favour are suspected, and eager to abandon him. Thus, what is distant, he fears for that very reason; and what is near, because it is about his person. From the remote, he is expecting war; from those at hand conspiracy. Peace he regards as inexpedient, because it gives leisure to his subjects; and war, because they are necessarily burthened with supplies, and harassed by military hardships. Thus, in war, his affections are set on peace; and, when peace is accomplished, he immediately employs himself in contriving war. In a state of public plenty, tyrants dread the insolence of the common people; in a time of scarcity, their resentment. They sce no safety for themselves, whether abroad or at home, in public or in the palace; neither can they frequent any place with confidence: all are beset with plot and treachery.' If men converse with him under no restraint, he is angry, and alarmed by this freedom: if they cringe and crouch before him, that servility of homage excites suspicion. Liberal intercourse is regarded as an insult; humility, as a stratagem. From reproach he feels much more uneasiness than others; because a tyrant truly is reviled! and praise communicates no pleasure, as the suspicious offspring of insincerity. Of those most valuable and honourable acquisitions he is wholly destitute, good-will, and friendship. From, no man can he hope for kindness: for a keeper will sooner contract an affection for the ferocious lion, than servants and courtiers for a tyrant.' Some passages in the Essays on the Conduct of Men at a a Public Dinner, and concerning Virtue, exhibit striking pictures of antient manners: With respect to large popular assemblies, the purpose of some, who frequent them, is merely a curious survey of the various spectacles and games; and such visitors, as are strongly actuated by this curiosity, employ themselves on these objects from morning to night. Many constitute a mere collection of market-people, who bring their commodities to sale; some make a public exhibition of their ingenuity by exposing works of art and various manufactures; some display their philosophical attainments in lectures; others read publicly their tragedies and epic poems, or their compositions in prose, to the no small annoyance of the man, who came for relaxation and amusement: which description most resembles those hummers and singers at an entertainment; to whom you are compelled to listen even in your own despite. Now, among those literary exhibiters, that man, who is able to produce an useful and edifying treatise, and lead the assembly to a proficiency in virtue and decorum, enjoys an exemption from the general turbulence of the crowd, and collects their attention to himself,' There happened to be collected at this time, around the temple of Neptune, a set of rascally sophists, clamouring, and reviling one another, with such as called themselves their disciples, in sharp contention with their associates; and a variety of authors reading publicly their senseless compositions: many poets also singing out their poetry, in the midst of applauding auditors; with a large company of conjurers, exhibiting their tricks; abundance too of fortunetellers, delivering their marvellous interpretations: thousands of de 03 claimers, claimers, with their puzzling law-questions and decisions; and not a few mercenary tradesmen, in the exercise of their imposition on all within their power.' To the first of these passages, the translator adds the following note: The meetings here meant were collections of people from all parts of Greece and the Græcian colonies, resembling some of our Fairs, half a century or a century ago, in England; such as Stirbitch fair near Cambridge; of which, the celebrity, the economy, and the humours, are curiously and successfully described in a long poem of the Musa Anglicana.' A happy specimen of the Platonic manner dccurs in the latter of these two essays: 'Besides the contention, however, with LABOURS, another conflict is appointed for us, not merely more formidable than those, which I have stated, but, in reality, arduous and perilous to a degree incomparably greater, the conflict with PLEASURE; who does not oppose with open violence, but ensnares by subtleties, and beguiles with a cup of most bewitching poisons. Her battle bears no resemblance to the battle thus described in Homer's poetry: Then at the ships a combat sharp arose Deep-gashing hatchets, dealt destruction round.' Her battle, I say, corresponds not to this description. Direct assault is not the method, to which Pleasure has recourse; but delusive artifice, and the fascination of dire enchantments, are her weapons; enchantments, like those, by which the sorcerous Circe, as Homer relates the story, was able to bewitch the companions of Ulysses; transforming some of them into swine, some into wolves, and others into every variety of savage beasts. Such is the character of Pleasure! Her insidious attempts are not confined to a single process: she endeavours, by machinations infinitely multifarious, to accomplish the destruction of mankind, whether waking or asleep, through the instrumentality of all their senses, their sight, their hearing, their smell, their taste, their touch by their meat also, their drink, and their lustful appetites. No security can be found in sleep from stationing a row of watchful sentinels, as against an ordinary enemy, because her principal attack is conducted during that season of repose; partly by engaging sleep himself to enfeeble and enslave them, partly by sending forth against them deceitful and plotting dreams, to recall her to their recollection. Labour, for the most part, makes his approaches through the medium of the Touch; but Pleasure commissions the collective senses of our constitution to execute her purposes. With Labour it is our interest to grapple in a close encounter; but Pleasure we must fee with all possible precipitation, and should maintain no more communication with her, than what unopposeable Necessity may exact. In a contest with Labour, the most resolute combatant proves the most successful; but the truest resolution is displayed by a hasty and distant retreat |