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"I am strongly tempted, too, to have a stroke at Hume in parting. He is the author of a little book, called Philosophical Essays; in one part of which he argues against the being of a God, and in another (very needlessly you will say) against the possibility of miracles. He has crowned the liberty of the press. And yet he has a considerable post under the Government! I have a great mind to do justice on his arguments against miracles, which I think might be done in few words. But does he deserve notice? Is he known amongst you? Pray answer me these questions; for if his own weight keeps him down, I should be sorry to contribute to his advancement—to any place but the Pillory."-p. 11.

In another place, he is pleased to say, under date of 1757, when Mr. Hume's reputation for goodness, as well as genius, was fully established:

"There is an epidemic madness amongst us; today we burn with the feverish heat of Superstition; to-morrow we stand fixed and frozen in Atheism. Expect to hear that the churches are all crowded next Friday; and that on Saturday they buy up Hume's new Essays; the first of which (and please you) is The Natural History of Religion, for which skirts, as you will see when you come hither, and I will trim the rogue's jacket, at least sit upon his find his margins scribbled over. In a word, the Essay is to establish an Atheistic naturalism, like Bolingbroke; and he goes upon one of B.'s capital arguments, that Idolatry and Polytheism were be fore the worship of the one God. It is full of absurdities; and here I come in with him; for they to do their business, is to show them fools. They show themselves knaves: but, as you well observe, say this man has several moral qualities. It may be so. But there are vices of the mind as well as body; and a Wickeder Heart, and more deter mined to do public Mischief, I think I never knew." p. 175.

The tenor of this note, as well as the name and the memory of Warburton, excited in us no small curiosity to peruse the collection and, for a moment, we entertained a hope of finding this intractable and usurping author softened down, in the gentler relations of private life, to something of a more amiable and engaging form: and when we found his right reverend correspondent speaking of the playfulness of his wit, and the partiality of his friendships, we almost persuaded ourselves, that we should find, in these letters, not only many traits of domestic tenderness and cordiality, but also some expressions of regret for the asperities with which, in the heat and he elation of controversy, he had insulted all who were opposed to him. It seems natural, :00, to expect, that along with the confessions of an author's vanity, we should meet with some reflections on his own good fortune, and some expressions of contentment and gratitude for the honours and dignities which had been heaped upon him. In all this, however, we have been painfully disappointed. The arrogance and irritability of Warburton was never more conspicuous than in these Letters,―nor It is natural and very edifying, after all this his intolerance of opposition, and his prepos- to find him expressing the most unmeasured terous estimate of his own merit and import- contempt, even for the historical works of this ance. There is some wit-good and bad-author, and gravely telling his beloved friend, scattered through them; and diverse fragments of criticism: But the staple of the correspondence is his own praise, and that of his friend, whom he magnifies and exalts, indeed, in a way that is very diverting. To him, and his other dependants and admirers, and their patrons, he is kind and complimentary to excess; but all the rest of the world he regards with contempt and indifference. The age is a good age or a bad age, according as it applauds or neglects the Divine Legation and the Commentary on Horace. Those who write against these works are knaves and drivellers, and will meet with their reward in the contempt of another generation, and the tortures of another world! - Bishoprics and. Chancellorships, on the other hand, are too little for those who extol and defend them; -and Government is reviled for leaving the press open to Bolingbroke, and tacitly blamed for not setting Mr. Hume on the pillory.

The natural connection of the subject with the general remarks which we have already premised, leads us to begin our extracts with a few specimens of that savage asperity towards Christians and Philosophers, upon which we have felt ourselves called on to pass a sentence of reprobation. In a letter, dated in 1749, we have the following passage Mr. Hume,

about

who was hammering out a puny dialogue on the English constitution, "As to Hume's History, you need not fear being forestalled by a thousand such writers. But the fear is natural, as I have often felt, and as often experienced to be absurd!" We really were not aware, either that this History was generally looked upon as an irreligious publication; or that there was reason to suspect that Dr. Robertson had no warm side to religion, more than his friend. Both these things, however, may be learned from the following short paragraph.

"Hume has outdone himself in this new history, in showing his contempt of religion. This is one of those proof charges which Arbuthnot speaks of in his treatise of political lying, to try how much the public will bear. If this history be well received, tence to religion. But I should think it will not: I shall conclude that there is even an end of all prebecause I fancy the good reception of Robertson's proceeded from the decency of it."-p. 207.

which this Christian divine makes upon Mr. The following is the liberal commentary

Hume's treatment of Rousseau.

"It is a truth easily discoverable from his wri

tings, that Hume could have but one motive in bringing him over (for he was under the protection of Lord Mareshal) and that was, cherishing a man whose writings were as mischievous to society as kis own. The merits of the two philosophers are soon adjusted. There is an immense distance between

their natural genius: none at all in their excessive vanity; and much again in their good faith. Rousseau's warmth has made him act the madman in his philosophical inquiries, so that he oft saw not the mischief which he did: Hume's coldness made him not only see but rejoice in his. But it is neither parts nor logic that has made either of them philosophers, but Infidelity only. For which, to be sure, they both equally deserve a PENSION."-pp. 286, 287.

After all this, it can surprise us very little to hear him call Voltaire a scoundrel and a liar; and, in the bitterness of his heart, qualify Smollett by the name of "a vagabond Scot, who wrote nonsense," because people had bought ten thousand copies of his History, while the Divine Legation began to lie heavy on the shelves of his bookseller. It may be worth while, however, to see how this orthodox prelate speaks of the church and of churchmen. The following short passage will give the reader some light upon the subject; and also serve to exemplify the bombastic adulation which the reverend correspondents interchanged with each other, and the coarse but robust wit by which Warburton was certainly distinguished.

"You were made for higher things: and my greatest pleasure is, that you give me a hint you are impatient to pursue them. What will not such a capacity and such a pen do, either to shame or to improve a miserable age! The church, like the Ark of Noah, is worth saving; not for the sake of the unclean beasts and vermin that almost filled it and probably made most noise and clamour in it, but for the little corner of rationality, that was as much distressed by the stink within, as by the tempest without."-pp. 83, 84.

In another place, he says, "I am serious upon it. I am afraid that both you and I shall outlive common sense, as well as learning, in our reverend brotherhood ;" and afterwards complains, that he has laboured all his life to support the cause of the clergy, and been repaid with nothing but ingratitude. In the close of another letter on the same subject, he says, with a presumption, which the event has already made half ridiculous, and half melancholy, "Are not you and I finely employed? -but. Serimus arbores, alteri quæ seculo prosunt,'i

But these are only general expressions, arising, perhaps, from spleen or casual irritation. Let us inquire how he speaks of individuals. It would be enough, perhaps, to say, that except a Dr. Balguy, we do not remember of his saying any thing respectful of a single clergyman throughout the whole volume. The following is a pretty good specimen of the treatment which was reserved for such of them as dared to express their dissent from his paradoxes and fancies.

anger and resentment; and really affords as
Now, this is not said in jest; dut in fierce
wonderful a picture of the temper and liberal-
ity of a Christian divine, as some of the disputes
among the grammarians do of the irritability
of a mere man of letters. The contempt, in-
deed, with which he speaks of his answerers,
who were in general learned divines, is equally
keen and cutting with that which he evinces
towards Hume and Bolingbroke. He himself
knew ten thousand faults in his work; but
they have never found one of them. Nobody
has ever answered him yet, but at their own
expense; and some poor man whom he men-
tions "must share in the silent contempt
with which I treat my answerers." This is
his ordinary style in those playful and affec-
tionate letters. Of known and celebrated
individuals, he talks in the same tone of dis-
gusting arrogance and animosity. Dr. Lowth,
the learned and venerable Bishop of London,
had occasion to complain of some misrepre-
sentations in Warburton's writings, relating
to the memory of his father; and, after some
amicable correspondence, stated the matter to
Here is the manner in which he is treated for
the public in a short and temperate pamphlet.
it in this Episcopal correspondence.

the purest spirit of friendship.
"All you say about Lowth's pamphlet breathes
reasoning, God knows, and I also (as a certain critic
His wit and his
said once in a matter of the like great importance),
are much below the qualities that deserve those
boldness in publishing my letters without my leave
names. But the strangest thing of all, is this man's
or knowledge. I remember several long letters
passed between us. And I remember you saw the
that I am at a loss for the meaning of these words.
letters. But I have so totally forgot the contents,

"In a word, you are right.-If he expected an answer, he will certainly find himself disappointed: though I believe I could make as good sport with this Devil of a vice, for the public diversion, as ever was made with him, in the old Moralities.

pp. 273, 274.

Among the many able men who thought themselves called upon to expose his errors and fantasies, two of the most distinguished were Jortin and Leland. Dr. Jortin had objected to Warburton's theory of the Sixth Eneid; and Dr. Leland to his notion of the Eloquence of the Evangelists; and both with great respect and moderation. Warburton would not, or could not answer;-but his faithful esquire was at hand; and two anonymous pamphlets, from the pen of Dr. Richard Hurd, were sent forth, to extol Warburton, and his paradoxes, beyond the level of a mortal; to accuse Jortin of envy, and to convict Leland of ignorance and error. Leland answered for himself; and, in the opinion of "What could make that important blockhead all the world, completely demolished his an(you know whom) preach against me at St. James'? tagonist. Jortin contented himself with laughHe never met me at Court, or at Powis or New- ing at the weak and elaborate irony of the castle-House. And what was it to him, whether Bishop's anonymous champion, and with wonthe Jews had a future life? It might be well for dering at his talent for perversion. Hurd never such as him, if the Christians had none neither!-owned either of these malignant pamphlets: Nor. I dare say, does he much trouble himself about and in the life of his friend, no notice whatthe matter, while he stands foremost, amongst you, in the new Land of Promise; which, however, to the ever was taken of this inglorious controversy. mortification of these modern Jews, is a little dis-What would have been better forgotten, how tant from that of performance."-p. 65. ever, for their joint reputation, is injudiciously 3H 2

87

brought back to notice in the volume now be- | ing, than the immediate prospect of this fore us; and Warburton is proved by his learned man's death, who had once been his letters to have entered fully into all the paltry friend, that he gives vent to this liberal imkeenness of his correspondent, and to have putation. indulged a feeling of the most rancorous hostility towards both these excellent and accomplished men. In one of his letters he says, "I will not tell you how much I am obliged to you for this correction of Leland. I have desired Colonel Harvey to get it reprinted in Dublin, which I think but a proper return for Leland's favour in London." We hear nothing more, however, on this subject, after the publication of Dr. Leland's reply.

With regard to Jortin, again, he says, "Next to the pleasure of seeing myself so finely praised, is the satisfaction I take in seeing Jortin mortified. I know to what degree it will do it; and he deserves to be mortified. One thing I in good earnest resented for its baseness," &c. In another place, he talks of his " mean, low, and ungrateful conduct;" and adds, "Jortin is as vain as he is dirty, to imagine that I am obliged to him," &c. And, after a good deal more about his "mean, low envy," "the rancour of his heart," his "selfimportance," and other good qualities, he speaks in this way of his death

"I see by the papers that Jortin is dead. His overrating his abilities, and the public's underrating them, made so gloomy a temper eat, as the ancients expressed it, his own heart. If his death dis tresses his own family, I shall be heartily sorry for this accident of mortality. If not, there is no loss even to himself!"-p. 340.

of mind enough not to suffer the pretended injuries "Had he had, I will not say piety, but greatness of some churchmen to prejudice him against reli gion, I should love him living, and honour his memory when dead. But, good God! that man, for the discourtesies done him by his miserable fellow-creatures, should be content to divest himthe asylum, &c. &c. is perfectly astonishing. I self of the true viaticum, the comfort, the solace. believe no one (all things considered) has suffered more from the low and vile passions of the high and low amongst our brethren than myself. Yet, God forbid, &c."—pp. 40, 41.

When divines of the Church of England are spoken of in this manner, it may be supposed that Dissenters and Laymen do not meet with any better treatment. Priestley, accordingly, is called "a wretched fellow and Dr. Samuel Johnson, who, in spite of considerable temptations to the contrary, had spoken with great respect of him, both in his preface to Shakespeare and in his notes, is thus rewarded by the meek and modest ecclesiastic for his forbearance.

"The remarks he makes in every page on my commentaries, are full of insolence and malignant reflections, which, had they not in them as much folly as malignity, I should have had reason to be offended with. As it is, I think myself obliged to him in thus setting before the public so many of my notes with his remarks upon them; for, though I have no great opinion of that trifling part of the public, which pretends to judge of this part of That the reader may judge how far con- literature, in which boys and girls decide, yet I troversial rancour has here distorted the fea- think nobody can be mistaken in this comparison; tures of an adversary, we add part of an though I think their thoughts have never yet exadmirable character of Dr. Jortin, drawn by tended thus far as to reflect, that to discover the one who had good occasion to know him, as gacity to restore it to sense, is no easy task: But corruption in an author's text, and by a happy sait appeared in a work in which keenness, when the discovery is made, then to cavil at the candour, and erudition are very singularly conjecture, to propose an equivalent, and defend blended. "He had a heart which never dis-nonsense, by producing, out of the thick darkness graced the powers of his understanding.-it With a lively imagination and an elegant taste, he united the artless and amiable negligence of a schoolboy. Wit without ill-nature, and sense without effort, he could, at will, scatter on every subject; and, in every book, the writer presents us with a near and distinct view of the man. He had too much discernment to confound difference of opinion with malignity or dulness; and too much candour to insult, where he could not persuade. He carried with him into every subject which he explored, a solid greatness of soul, which could spare an inferior, though in the offensive form of an adversary, and endure an equal, with or without the sacred name of a friend."*

Dr. Middleton, too, had happened to differ from some of Warburton's opinions on the origin of Popish ceremonies; and accordingly he is very charitably represented as having renounced his religion in a pet, on account of the discourtesy of his brethren in the church: It is on an occasion no less serious and touch

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occasions, a weak and faint glimmering of sense out) is the easiest, as well as dullest of all Eterary (which has been the business of this Editor throughefforts."-pp. 272, 273.

It is irksome transcribing more of these insolent and vindictive personalities; and we believe we have already extracted enough, to satisfy our readers as to the probable effect of this publication, in giving the world a just impression of the amiable, playful, and atfectionate character of this learned prelate. It is scarcely necessary, for this purpose, to refer to any of his pathetic lamentations over his own age, as a "barbarous age," an "impious age," and "a dark age,"to quote his murmurs at the ingratitude with which his own labours had been rewarded,—or, indeed, to do more than transcribe his sage and mag. nanimous resolution, in the year 1768, to be gin to live for himself—having already live for others longer than they had deserved of him." This worthy and philanthropic person had by this time preached and written himself into a bishopric and a fine estate; and, at the same time, indulged himself in every sort of violence and scurrility against those from whose opinions he dissented. In these

circumstances, we really are not aware either how he could have lived more for himself, or less for others, than he had been all along doing. But we leave now the painful task of conimenting upon this book, as a memorial of his character; and gladly turn to those parts of it, from which our readers may derive more unmingled amusement.

The wit which it contains is generally strong and coarse, with a certain mixture of profanity which does not always seem to consort well with the episcopal character. There are some allusions to the Lady of Babylon, which we dare not quote in our Presbyterian pages. The reader, however, may take the following:"Poor Job! It was his eternal fate to be persecuted by his friends. His three comforters passed sentence of condemnation upon him; and he has been executing in effigie ever since. He was first bound to the stake by a long catena of Greek Fathers; then tortured by Pineda! then strangled by Caryl; and afterwards cut up by Westley, and anatomised by Garnet. Pray don't reckon me amongst his hangmen. I only acted the tender part of his wife, and was for making short work with him! But he was ordained, I think, by a fate like that of Prometheus, to lie still upon his dunghill, and have his brains sucked out by owls. One Hodges, a head of Oxford, now threatens us with a new Auto de Fè."-p. 22.

We have already quoted one assimilation of the Church to the Ark of Noah. This idea is pursued in the following passage, which is perfectly characteristic of the force, the vulgarity, and the mannerism of Warburton's writing:

"You mention Noah's Ark. I have really forgot what I said of it. But I suppose I compared the Church to it, as many a grave divine has done before me.-The rabbins make the giant Gog or Magog contemporary with Noah, and convinced by his preaching; so that he was disposed to take the benefit of the ark. But here lay the distress; it by he could not enter in, he contented himself to ride upon it astride. And though you must suppose that, in that stormy weather, he was more than half-boots over, he kept his seat and dismounted safely, when the ark landed on Mount Ararat.Image now to yourself this illustrious Cavalier mounted on his hackney: and see if it does not bring before you the Church, bestrid by some lumpish minister of state, who turns and winds it at his pleasure. The only difference is, that Gog believed the preacher of righteousness and religion."

no means suited his dimensions. Therefore, as

pp. 87, 88.

The following is in a broader and more ambitious style, yet still peculiar and forcible. After recommending a tour round St. James' Park, as far more instructive than the grand tour, he proceeds

"This is enough for any one who only wants to study men for his use. But if our aspiring friend would go higher, and study human nature, in and for itself, he must take a much larger tour than that of Europe. He must first go and catch her undressed. nay, quite naked, in North America, and at the Cape of Good Hope. He may then examine how she appears cramped, contracted, and buttoned close up in the straight tunic of law and custom, as in China and Japan; or spread out, and enlarged above her common size, in the long and flowing robe of enthusiasm amongst the Arabs and Sararens; or, lastly, as she flutters in the old rags of worn-out policy and civil government, and almost

ready to run back naked to the deserts, as on the Mediterranean coast of Africa. These, tell him, the citizen of the world, to contemplate. The are the grand scenes for the true philosopher, for Tour of Europe is like the entertainment that Plutarch speaks of, which Pompey's host of Epirus gave him. There were many dishes, and they had a seeming variety; but when he came to examine them narrowly, he found them all made out of one hog, and indeed nothing but pork differently disguised.

"Indeed I perfectly agree with you, that a scholar by profession, who knows how to employ his time in his study, for the benefit of mankind, would be more than fantastical, he would be mad, to go rambling round Europe, though his fortune would permit him. For to travel with profit, must be when his faculties are at the height, his studies matured, But to and all his reading fresh in his head. waste a considerable space of time, at such a period of life, is worse than suicide. Yet, for all this, the knowledge of human nature (the only knowledge, in the largest sense of it, worth a wise man's concern or care) can never be well acquired without seeing it under all its disguises and distortions, arising from absurd governments and monstrous religions, in every quarter of the globe. Therefore, I think a collection of the best voyages no despicable part of a philosopher's library. Perhaps there will be found more dross in this sort of literature, even when selected most carefully, than in any other. But no matter for that; such a collection will contain a great and solid treasure."—pp. 111, 112.

These, we think, are favourable specimens of wit, and of power of writing. The bad jokes, however, rather preponderate. There is one brought in, with much formality, about his suspicions of the dunces having stolen the lead off the roof of his coachhouse; and two or three absurd little anecdotes, which seem to have no pretensions to pleasantry—but that they are narratives, and have no serious meaning..

To pass from wit, however, to more serious matters, we find, in this volume, some very striking proofs of the extent and diligence of this author's miscellaneous reading, particularly in the lists and characters of the authors to whom he refers his friend as authorities for a history of the English constitution. In this part of his dialogues, indeed, it appears that Hurd has derived the whole of his learning, and most of his opinions, from Warburton. The following remarks on the continuation of Clarendon's History are good and liberal:

"Besides that business, and age, and misfortunes had perhaps sunk his spirit, the Continuation is not so properly the history of the first six years of Charles the Second, as an anxious apology for the share himself had in the administration. This has hurt the composition in several respects. Amongst others, he could not, with decency, allow his pen that scope in his delineation of the chief characters of the court, who were all his personal enemies, as he had done in that of the enemies to the King and monarchy in the grand rebellion. The endeavour to keep up a show of candour, and especially to prevent the appearance of a rancorous resentment, has deadened his colouring very much, besides that it made him sparing in the use of it; else, his inimitable pencil had attempted, at least, to do justice to Bennet, to Berkley, to Coventry, to the nightly cabal of facetious memory, to the Lady, and, if his excessive loyalty had not intervened, to his infamous master himself. With all this, I am apt to think there may still be something in what I said of the nature of the subject. Exquisite virtue and

enormous vice afford a fine field for the historian's genius. And hence Livy and Tacitus are, in their way, perhaps equally entertaining. But the little intrigues of a selfish court, about carrying, or defeating this or that measure, about displacing this and bringing in that minister, which interest nobody very much but the parties concerned, can hardly be made very striking by any ability of the relator. If Cardinal de Retz has succeeded, his scene was busier, and of a another nature from that of Lord Clarendon."-p. 217.

memory, we think it our duty to lay one of them at least before our readers. Warburton had slipped in his garden, and hurt his arm whereupon thus inditeth the obsequious Dr. Hurd:

"I thank God that I can now, with some assurance, congratulate with myself on the prospect of your Lordship's safe and speedy recovery from your sad disaster.

"Mrs. Warburton's last letter was a cordial to

His account of Tillotson seems also to be me; and, as the ceasing of intense pain, so this fair and judicious.

abatement of the fears I have been tormented with for three or four days past, gives a certain alacrity to my spirits, of which your Lordship may look to feel the effects, in a long letter!

66

"As to the Archbishop, he was certainly a virtuous, pious, humane, and moderate man; which last quality was a kind of rarity in those times. I think And now, supposing, as I trust I may do, that the sermons published in his lifetime, are fine your Lordship will be in no great pain when you moral discourses. They bear, indeed, the charac-receive this letter, I am tempted to begin, as friends ter of their author, simple, elegant, candid, clear, usually do when such accidents befal, with my and rational. No orator, in the Greek and Roman reprehensions, rather than condolence. I have often sense of the word, like Taylor; nor a discourser, wondered why your Lordship should not use a cane in their sense, like Barrow ;-free from their ir- in your walks! which might haply have prevented regularities, but not able to reach their heights; on this misfortune! especially considering that Heawhich account, I prefer them infinitely to him. ven, I suppose the better to keep its sons in some You cannot sleep with Taylor; you cannot forbear sort of equality, has thought fit to make your outthinking with Barrow; but you may be much at ward sight by many degrees less perfect than your your ease in the midst of a long lecture from Til- inward. Even I, a young and stout son of the fotson, clear, and rational, and equable as he is. church, rarely trust my firm steps into my garden, Perhaps the last quality may account for it." without some support of this kind! How improvident, then, was it in a father of the church to commit his unsteadfast footing to this hazard!" &c.

pp. 93, 94. The following observations on the conduct of the comic drama were thrown out for Mr. Hurd's use, while composing his treatise. We think they deserve to be quoted, for their clearness and justness:—

"As those intricate Spanish plots have been in use, and have taken both with us and some French writers for the stage, and have much hindered the main end of Comedy, would it not be worth while to give them a word, as it would tend to the further illustration of your subject? On which you might observe, that when these unnatural plots are used, the mind is not only entirely drawn off from the characters by those surprising turns and revolutions, but characters have no opportunity even of being called out and displaying themselves; for the actors of all characters succeed and are embarrassed alike, when the instruments for carrying on designs are only perplexed apartments, dark entries, disguised habits, and ladders of ropes. The comic plot is, and must indeed be, carried on by deceit. The Spanish scene does it by deceiving the man through his senses;-Terence and Moliere, by deceiving him through his passions and affections. And this is the right way; for the character is not called out under the first species of deceit,-under the second, the character does all."—p. 57.

There are a few of Bishop Hurd's own letters in this collection; and as we suppose they were selected with a view to do honour to his

p. 251.

There are many pages written with the same vigour of sentiment and expression, and in the same tone of manly independence.

We have little more to say of this curious volume. Like all Warburton's writings, it bears marks of a powerful understanding and an active fancy. As a memorial of his personal character, it must be allowed to be at least faithful and impartial; for it makes us acquainted with his faults at least, as distinctly as with his excellences; and gives, indeed, the most conspicuous place to the former. It has few of the charms, however, of a collection of letters;-no anecdotes-no traits of simplicity or artless affection;-nothing of the softness, grace, or negligence of Cowper's correspondence-and little of the lightness or the elegant prattlement of Pope's or Lady Mary Wortley's. The writers always appear busy, and even laborious persons, and persons who hate many people, and despise many more.-But they neither appear very happy, nor very amiable; and, at the end of the book, have excited no other interest in the reader, than as the authors of their respective publications.

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