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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 The Library of Congress 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/courseofstudypreOOwatt 
 
A 
 
 PREPARATORY TO THE 
 TO WHICH IS ANNEXED 
 
 A MEMOIR 
 
 PRIVATE OR DOMESTIC LIVES 
 
 MOM^JfS. 
 
 •o^ 
 
 fr 
 
 BY GEO': WATTERSTON. 
 if 
 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY DAVIS" AND FORCE, (FRANKLIN'S 
 HEAD J PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. 
 
 823. 
 
 1 ! ^IK* 
 
 
#3*. 
 
 b?5 > 
 
 £4 
 
 
 DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, to wit : 
 
 Be it remembered, that on the nineteenth day of Decem» 
 ber, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and 
 twenty-three, and of the Independence of the United States of 
 America the forty-eighth, Davis & Force, of the said District 
 have deposited in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court 
 for the District of Columbia, the title of a Book, the right 
 whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 " A Course of Study, preparatory to the Bar or the Senate; to 
 which is annexed, a memoir on the Private or Domestic Lives 
 of the Romans'''' — By Geo. Watterslon. 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, 
 entitled " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
 the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Pro- 
 prietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned " — 
 and also to the Act, entitled "An Act supplementary to an Act, 
 entitled ' An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
 the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Pro- 
 prietors ot such copies during the time? therein mentioned,' 
 and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engrav- 
 ing, and etching, historical and other prints;" 
 
 In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, 
 J" »'J au( j affixed the public seal of my office, the day and 
 year aforesaid. 
 
 EDM. I. LEE, 
 
 Clerk of the District Court for the District of Columbia, 
 
Placed in a situation in which I have had frequent opportu- 
 nities of witnessing the lamentable waste of time in many who 
 have been disposed to be studious, from the want of an in- 
 structer to point out the course of reading they should 
 pursue ; it struck me that a work, like the following, might 
 be productive of advantage. 
 
 How far this expectation may be realized, time will soon 
 determine ; my object however, has been, to contribute my 
 small mite, to the benefit of my fellow men, and to promote 
 the cause of literature and science. That it will have this 
 tendency, must I think, be admitted by all who may favour 
 this little volume with a perusal ; but if the smallest benefit be 
 the result, I shall feel myself amply compensated for the labour 
 and the time I have devoted to it. In the wide and desultory 
 range of reading and uf study adopted by young men in general, 
 I have seen, with regret, that much time has been wasted, 
 which, if employed in a more judicious manner, would have 
 yielded the most lasting advantage. The necessity of a 
 proper course of preparatory study, to the lawyer and the 
 statesman, must be obvious ; and the only obstacle I appre- 
 hend, to the adoption of such a course, is the difficulty of 
 finding a monitor or guide, to direct their way, and facilitate 
 their progress in the march of intellectual improvement. The 
 practice of the law is usually commenced at too early a 
 period of life in this country — the preparatory information 
 with which it is begun, is often too limited and circumscribed 
 to render the profession itself productive, as it ought to be, of 
 the highest distinction and the greatest pecuniary benefit. The 
 legal profession in the United States, is for the most part a 
 
aV. PREFACE, 
 
 leading step to a more elevated rank in life and a wider sphere 
 of usefulness, and the knowledge which precedes it, ought 
 of consequence to be such as to qualify a man for any con- 
 dition in which he may be placed. But I think this little work 
 will be not only useful to the man who means to adopt the 
 law as a profession, and to render himself useful in the councils, 
 of his country ; but also to those who have no other object than, 
 to improve and cultivate their minds. In speaking of each 
 science, I have endeavoured to point out the books proper to 
 be read and the course necessary to be pursued with a view 
 to render it more accessible and more easily attained. Any. 
 department of knowledge, therefore, may be acquired by pur- 
 suing the course I have laid down, should the individual be 
 disposed to study but a single branch of science apart from 
 the rest. Its greatest utility, however, will be to him who 
 wishes to embrace the whole circle of knowledge I have mark- 
 ed out, and to advance in regular progression from the first 
 simple elements of learning to the widest range of intellectual 
 acquirement. 
 
 This little work was prepared about three years ago, and 
 undertaken from the motives I have already mentioned. Since 
 that I have seen an English work somewhat similar in its gene- 
 ral character, by Joyce Carpenter and Shepherd, in two volumcs 9 
 but which is rather too voluminous and extended, I think, for gen- 
 eral use. I confess that my pretensions are very humble and that 
 my principal aim has been barely to present a little guide to 
 the studiously inclined youth of my country which will enable 
 them to advance in knowledge and improve their minds, in the 
 easiest and most advantageous manner. 
 
 The Memoir which is annexed, was also written at the same 
 time and before the publication of a work which has recently 
 appeared on the domestic manners of the Romans. They are 
 both, however, derived from nearly the same authorities and al- 
 most the same source. I find that he is indebted, as well as my- 
 self, to three dissertations contained in the first volume of the Me- 
 
PREFACE. V. 
 
 moirs de LMcademie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres, and to 
 D'Arnay's work on the same subject. I have, however, en= 
 deavoured to preserve the arrangement adopted by the French 
 author, as being the most lucid, and to condense all the infor- 
 mation I could collect, in relation to the private or domestic 
 manners of the Romans into as small a compass as possible. It 
 i's brief and will, I hope, be found useful. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LETTER 1. On the Study of the Languages, Ancient and 
 
 Modern,.... 13 
 
 2. On a course of Rhetoric, Oratory, and Po- 
 
 etry, 42 
 
 3. On a course of Logic and Mathematics, 59 
 
 4. On Natural Philosophy, 70 
 
 5. On Drawing, Painting, Architecture, and 
 
 M usic, . 76 
 
 6. On a course of Ancient History,.... 92 
 
 7. On a course of Modern History, 102 
 
 8. On the Objects and Uses of History,. 121 
 
 9. On a course of C mistry and Mineralogy,.. 133 
 
 10. On a course of Botany and Zoology, 143 
 
 11. On a course of Moral and Political Philo- 
 
 sophy, Public Law, and Political Econo- 
 my 156 
 
 12. On a proper Division of Time,... 175 
 
 Memoir on the Domestic, or Private Lives of the Romans. 
 
 Letter 1 IPS 
 
 2 194 
 
 3 206 
 
 4 228 
 
LETTER I. 
 
 ON THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES, ANCIENT AND 
 MODERN. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 You have desired me to communicate my 
 ideas to you on a system of education, calculated 
 for the Bar and the Senate ; or, in other words, to 
 point out a course of study that will tend to ren- 
 der you distinguished as a lawyer, and eminent as 
 a statesman. I feel great pleasure in complying 
 with this desire, not only because it evinces a love 
 of excellence which I am happy to find you pos- 
 sess, and which I delight to cherish ; but because 
 it convinces me you are determined to adopt and 
 pursue such a plan of instruction as maj, the most 
 effectually, conduce to your future welfare, and 
 the best enable you to attain a reputation and 
 standing in society, correspondent to your wishes. 
 The task you have imposed upon me is, however, 
 one of considerable difficulty and labour, and will 
 require much research and investigation 5 but as 
 I hope it may be for your benefit, and for that of 
 others who intend to pursue the same professional 
 
14 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 career, I do not hesitate to undertake it. And I 
 indulge the belief that, having undertaken it, you 
 have made up your mind to persevere in the 
 course I shall lay down, until you have completed 
 the entire circle, and made yourself acquainted 
 with the various branches of knowledge it will em- 
 brace. 
 
 At this enlightened period of the world, my 
 dear son, it would be worse than superfluous 
 to attempt to exhibit the advantages which result 
 from the possession of a complete and liberal ed- 
 ucation. The most ignorant, as well as the most 
 intelligent, are conscious of its benefits, and can 
 feel and appreciate its utility. Intellectual light 
 is as agreeable and delightful to the mind, as phy- 
 sical light to the corporal eye. Ignorance, like 
 the deadly incubus, the dreamy midnight hag that 
 hovers over our slumbers, palsies the energies, and 
 withers the faculties of the human mind, which has 
 been so organized as to require the stimulus of 
 light to render it active and powerful and vigor- 
 ous. Ignorance is not only a condition of helpless- 
 ness, but of pain, and the constant efforts of the 
 mind are made to remove the darkness in which it 
 is involved, and to grasp the light whose glimpses 
 it discerns at a distance. 
 
 "if ignorance be bliss, 'tis folly to be wise. 1 " 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN, 
 
 But ignorance is far from being a source either 
 of enjoyment, or of happiness. The mind of an 
 ignorant man is an aching void, actuated alone by 
 mere animal instincts, and seeking its gratification 
 in what finally contributes only to its misery. On 
 the contrary, the mind of him who has devoted his 
 time to its cultivation and improvement, is a lux- 
 uriant and variegated field, where flowers of every 
 hue, and fruits of every flavour, are to be found in 
 the richest profusion ; where ail is fullness, and ev- 
 ery thing that vegetates, teems with fragrance, and 
 shoots forth with luxuriance and beauty. How 
 vast ! how immeasurable is the distance between 
 such a being as a Newton and an illiterate African ! 
 It is almost as great as that which exists between 
 an angel and a brute. But this superiority results 
 not less from the power which education bestows, 
 for " knowledge is power," than from the virtues 
 which it inculcates and instils into the human 
 soul. The effects of ignorance, in a moral and 
 political point of view, are appalling and dread- 
 ful. Vice is the natural concomitant of dark- 
 ness, and iniquity is apt to spread and diffuse itself 
 in its native element, and to acquire vigour and 
 strength, where no bounds are presented to its 
 progress, and no checks are offered to its growth. 
 It belongs then to the statesman and the legisla- 
 tor to watch, with a vigilant eye, over the ex 
 
16 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 istence of this evil ; and, by the establishment of 
 seminaries of instruction wherever they can be 
 placed, to counteract its baleful tendency, by 
 shedding the light of truth and knowledge over the 
 human mind. It should at all times be consider- 
 ed, that every intellectual acquisition is a virtue ; 
 because, as we advance in intelligence, we the 
 nearer approximate the great fountain of light and 
 knowledge. 
 
 The celebrated Addison has elegantly remark- 
 ed, " To look upon the soul as going on from 
 strength to strength ; to consider that she is to 
 shine for ever with new accessions of glory and 
 brighten to all eternity ; that she will be still ad- 
 ding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge ; 
 carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to 
 that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. 
 Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God him- 
 self, to see his creation forever beautifying in his 
 eyes, and drawing near to him by greater degrees 
 of resemblance." Such must and will be the na- 
 tural progress of a well-regulated mind. Ignor- 
 ance is a condition it cannot relish either in itself 
 or others ; it constantly presses forward in its ef- 
 forts to obtain new accessions of knowledge, nor 
 pauses in its career, till death has closed the of- 
 ten eventful drama of life* 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 17 
 
 In the acquisition of human knowledge, how- 
 ever, many difficulties are sometimes experienced 
 by those who are even disposed to be studious. 
 No " guide, philosopher and friend," presents 
 himself to smooth the ascent of science, and to 
 point out the path through the dark and intricate 
 mazes of perplexity in which they often find them- 
 selves involved. Disgusted with the toil they en- 
 counter, and the obscurity which surrounds them, 
 from the want of a guide and a monitor, men are 
 often led to abandon a science in which they 
 would, perhaps, have excelled, or to start back, 
 in terror, from the acquirement of some branch of 
 knowledge which would have added to their hap- 
 piness, and rendered them more useful to them- 
 selves and to society. 
 
 It is melancholy to contemplate the painful ef- 
 forts of young men who are even devoted to study, 
 floundering through the sciences, like a traveller, 
 bewildered in the mazes of a forest, and led on 
 by the faint glimmerings of light which occasion- 
 ally flashes across his path, glares for a moment, 
 and then disappears. It too often happens that 
 they begin at the wrong end, and though they read 
 much, acquire but little. The expense of time 
 and labour, thus occasioned, is immense and la- 
 mentable; and, however paradoxical it may seem, 
 B 2 
 
IS STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 habits of literary indolence are engendered that 
 are afterwards found to be too deeply rooted to 
 be easily abandoned. They endeavour, it is true, 
 to grope through the scientific labyrinth, they con- 
 ceive it necessary to pass without a clew to guide 
 their footsteps ; but soon find themselves irrecov- 
 erably lost and bewildered, in its dark and inex- 
 tricable mazes, and either give up the pursuit in 
 despair, or continue to flounder on without profit 
 to themselves or advantage to others. 
 
 The temple of science, however, is not difficult 
 of access to those, even of ordinary minds, who 
 pursue the true path that leads to it, with the 
 perseverance such an object requires. However 
 arduous and forbiding the ascent to learning may, 
 at the first glance, appear, it is, nevertheless, one 
 of comparative, ease and delight to those whose 
 course has been directed by the hand of friend- 
 ship or of skill. " Laborious indeed," says Mil- 
 ton," at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so 
 green, and so full of godly prospect and melodious 
 sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus 
 was not more charming." The delightful connex- 
 ion and harmony which exist among the various 
 sciences, make the knowledge of one an easy step 
 towards the acquirement of another, and, if the 
 elements of each are properly understood, (and it 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 19 
 
 will occupy no great length of time thus to under- 
 stand them) an acquaintance with the whole may 
 be attained in a much shorter time, and with much 
 less labour, than men are disposed at first to be- 
 lieve. The formidable array of volumes which a 
 youth meets with in looking over an extensive li- 
 brary, or its not less formidable catalogue, should 
 give him no apprehensions, nor suffer his exer- 
 tions, in the pursuit of knowledge, to cool or abate 
 in the smallest degree. But few of the myriads of 
 " ponderous tomes" he beholds, are necessary to 
 be read ; but these few should be studied till their 
 matter is imbibed, and their principles thoroughly 
 understood and mastered. The elementary wri- 
 ters in every science are not very numerous ; they 
 form but a small phalanx, and to the studious and 
 diligent a no very formidable one. They must, 
 however, be diligently and carefully studied, or 
 excellence will be impossible. They constitute 
 the foundation, and in some cases the superstruc- 
 ture of science, and, without them, no correct 
 knowledge need be expected. A knowledge of 
 these, and these alone, will lead to the possession of 
 that "complete and generous education which," 
 according to Milton, "fits a man to perform justly, 
 skilfully and magnanimously all the offices both 
 private and public, of peace and war." It is to 
 show how this is to be effected, in the easiest and 
 
20 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 best possible manner, that I have been induced, 
 at your request, to attempt the present arduous 
 undertaking. 
 
 J¥ou will understand it is not my intention, 
 my dear son, to convey an idea that every 
 thing must be known. That indeed is impos- 
 sible, non omnes omnia possunt, but I do think that 
 he who wishes to occupy a distinguished rank 
 in society, ought not to be absolutely ignorant of 
 any branch of human knowledge whatever, and 
 if he study the sciences as they should be studied, 
 he must and will be acquainted with the whole, if 
 not profoundly, at least sufficiently so for all the 
 purposes of professional distinction and social 
 utility. 
 
 The sciences so enter into each other, are so 
 blended and intermingled together, form so delight- 
 ful a harmony and so exquisite a union, that to be 
 well versed in one is, in a degree, to be acquainted 
 with the whole. " They are branches of the same 
 tree,' 1 says a French writer, " the links of an im- 
 mense chain, the veins and ramifications of a vast 
 and fruitful mine, the provinces and cantons of the 
 same empire, and though their parts are subdivided, 
 detached, and distinct, the)' are, at the same time, 
 combined, co-ordinate and identified in one great 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 21 
 
 whole." " The taking a taste of every sort of 
 knowledge," says Locke, " is necessary to form 
 the mind, and is the only way to give the under- 
 standing its due improvement to the full extent of 
 its capacity." 
 
 It must not, however, be inferred from what 
 hasbeen said, that any individual, whatever may be 
 the power and extent of his capacity, should la- 
 bour to make himself a perfect master of every 
 science, because that would require a greater 
 length of time, and a more comprehensive range 
 of mind, than are allotted to the most favourite and 
 the most gifted child of genius. But it is, never- 
 theless, within the reach, and ought to be the ob- 
 ject, of every individual who wishes to rise above 
 the ordinary level of mankind, and to render him- 
 self useful and distinguished as a member of so- 
 ciety, to acquire a general knowledge of the sci- 
 ences and arts, correct, if not profound ; exact, if 
 not minute. This accumulation of knowledge will 
 be alarming, I doubt not, to weak and timid and or- 
 dinary minds, imbued as they are with prejudices 
 which retard and embarrass the march of the hu- 
 man intellect, but it will warm and elevate the 
 mind of him whose superior genius will apply the 
 often quoted words of the Latin poet, homo sum, 
 et humani a me nil alienum puto, "lama man. 
 
22 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 and nothing that interests humanity shall ever he 
 a stranger to me." 
 
 It will, at the same time, he proper to remark, 
 that in acquiring the scope of general knowledge 
 I shall recommend for attainment, it must not be 
 forgotten, that the particular profession which is to 
 be embraced must always claim the paramount at- 
 tention and devotion of every individual who de- 
 sires to rise to eminence and distinction. Prepar- 
 atory, however, to the commencement of his pro- 
 fessional studies, and afterwards in connexion with 
 them, the range of study I shall delineate, must be 
 attended to ; and the various branches of knowledge 
 which have a connexion, more or less intimate, 
 with the profession to which he specially conse- 
 crates his life, should, by all means, be acquired. 
 
 The great secret of education is to produce 
 a strong desire to learn, and a vehement love 
 of excellence. Without motives like these, all 
 will be vain, and the unaspiring youth may 
 delve and " plod his weary way" in obedience 
 to the rigid and imperious commands of his in- 
 structer ; but he will never be distinguished for 
 depth of knowledge, or extent and variety of in- 
 tellectual resources. In many, I doubt not, these 
 motives and feelings operate with considerable 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 23 
 
 force, and barely require a proper direction to 
 render them productive not only of the greatest 
 possible advantage, but of the highest attainable 
 happiness. This, it will be my task to attempt, 
 and I trust that attempt will not be altogether 
 vain. 
 
 The study of languages is usually and properly 
 the first step in a liberal and enlarged system of 
 education. The youthful mind is peculiarly fitted 
 for the acquirement and retention of words; but 
 not sufficiently expanded and vigorous to compre- 
 hend the nature, principles, and objects of posi- 
 tive science. Memory is the first faculty that un- 
 folds itself, and perhaps the most susceptible of 
 improvement. Languages, therefore, as a branch 
 of elementary knowledge, should be early attend- 
 ed to. They are emphatically the key to science 
 and the spring of life cannot be more judiciously 
 or advantageously employed than in acquiring 
 them. A knowledge of what are termed the dead 
 and of some of the living languages, I conceive to 
 be absolutely indispensable to the character of a 
 fine scholar, and an able and distinguished civilian 
 and statesman ; and it is exceedingly to be regret- 
 ted that these, especially the learned languages, 
 are so much neglected in our country. This has 
 arisen from a mistaken idea that their attainment 
 
24 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 takes up too much time, and that the period usu- 
 ally devoted to their acquisition, might be better 
 employed in acquiring more solid and useful infor- 
 mation. No error can be more glaring than this: 
 every day's experience demonstrates its fallacy. 
 
 The acquirement of the dead languages will be 
 found to be attended with great and permanent 
 advantages; among which, it will be sufficient 
 barely to mention its tendency to improve the 
 principal faculties of the mind, and to beget a 
 purity and refinement of taste that no other kind 
 of learning can bestow. The memory, for ex- 
 ample, must be invigorated by the habitual ex- 
 ercise it undergoes, in the acquisition and reten- 
 tion of strange words and foreign expressions • 
 the judgment is improved, from the necessity the 
 learner is under of selecting, out of many, the 
 most suitable word to express the idea of the ori- 
 ginal — for the original gives the idea only ; the 
 imagination is chastened and improved by the 
 exquisite imagery, and the rich, chaste, and beau- 
 tiful colouring the ancient authors display ; and 
 the taste is improved by the fine models of pu- 
 rity and beauty, and the refined and delicate 
 touches of nature, every where diffused over the 
 pages of the Greek and Roman classics. The 
 most eminent and distinguished men in oratory. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 2o 
 
 poetry, history, law, &c. have been well vers- 
 ed in those languages, and have had their minds 
 early imbued with a love of these chaste and 
 polished models of antiquity. " Classical learn- 
 ing," says lady Chudleigh, "is the sure foun- 
 dation of all other polite learning in the world, 
 and is what men of taste in all ages and nations 
 have so eagerly studied, and so unanimously ad- 
 mired." Be, therefore, solicitous to master them ; 
 regard not the difficulties that may arise, at first, 
 to impede your progress ; they will soon, by a 
 little perseverance and application, be surmount- 
 ed, and, when you have reached that point of 
 familiarity with them which will enable you to 
 relish their beauties, and feel and enjoy their ex- 
 cellences, they will become a source of high and 
 exquisite gratification that will never forsake you, 
 even amidst the dull and vapid realities of life. In 
 acquiring those languages, it will be necessary to 
 observe the peculiarities of style; the fine thoughts 
 and daring felicities of expression which distin- 
 guish the authors you are reading, and to endea- 
 vour, frequently, to commit to memory the finest 
 and most beautiful passages that are to be found 
 in the poets of Greece and Rome. This will 
 strengthen the memory, improve the taste, and 
 furnish you with happy illustrations, and apt 
 and appropriate allusions. It will be proper, too. 
 C 
 
26 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 
 
 to keep up this practice while reading modern 
 poetry : you will find, as many of the most distin- 
 guished modern orators have found, that it is of 
 much greater advantage than you may now be dis- 
 posed to believe. Of the copiousness, harmony, 
 grace, and beauty, of the Greek and Latin lan- 
 guages, it is unnecessary to say any thing. Those 
 who study them, with that care and attention 
 which they deserve, will soon be enabled to judge 
 for themselves, and, of consequence, capable of 
 relishing their various excellences, without the 
 aid of criticism. But I must take the liberty to 
 observe, en passant, that, of all the languages, an- 
 cient or modern, I conceive the Greek to be the 
 most admirable. A knowledge of that language 
 was deemed by the Latins to be an indispensable 
 branch of study, and should be so considered by 
 the present and every future age. It is the foun- 
 dation of most other languages, and is so blended 
 with the sciences, as almost to form their key- 
 stone and ground work. 
 
 In studying these languages, be particularly at- 
 tentive to their grammatical construction ; en- 
 deavour to make yourself well acquainted with 
 the theory as well as the practice of grammar, 
 and strive to be able not only to apply its rules 
 with facility, but (after you have made sufficient 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 27 
 
 progress,) also to understand its abstract nature 
 and philosophical principles. " Without gram- 
 mar," says Burgh, " there can be no regular edu- 
 cation. And the grammar of one language may 
 as well be learned as another, the science being, 
 in the main, the same in all. It is very well known 
 that most of the European languages are more 
 Latin than any thing else. And what more tho- 
 rough method is there of letting a person into the 
 spirit of a language, than by making him early 
 acquainted with the original roots from whence 
 it is derived." You will find the study of gen- 
 eral grammar very interesting and useful, and, as 
 you advance in the knowledge of languages, their 
 philosophy will be more easily comprehended and 
 understood. Nothing displays better the charac- 
 ter of the human understanding, its extent and 
 capacity, than the theory of language. It unfolds 
 those fundamental laws which, resulting from the 
 logical analysis of thought, are necessarily com- 
 mon to all languages, and anterior to all conven- 
 tions.* 
 
 Universal grammar has of late been, with pro- 
 priety, considered as a branch of metaphysical 
 science and an introduction to logic. Its end is 
 to treat of words, or the signs of our ideas, and 
 
 * Tracy, 
 
28 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 
 
 the analysis of these signs constitute an impor- 
 tant portion of metaphysical knowledge. " We 
 know," says Detutt Tracy, " that every system 
 of signs is a language, and that since all discourse 
 is the manifestation of our ideas, it is the perfect 
 knowledge of these ideas that can alone enable 
 ns to discover the true organization of discourse, 
 and completely develope the secret mechanism 
 of its composition. 55 
 
 The philosophy of grammar, or rather of lan- 
 guage, will be found unfolded in the pages of Tra- 
 cy's Idiology, Took's Diversions of Purley, and 
 Harris, Hermes, which it will be proper to examine 
 with attention, before you close this branch of your 
 studies. These writers will let you into the se- 
 crets of language, and make you comprehend, 
 more perfectly, its nature, objects, and end. — 
 With practical grammar, and especially with that 
 of your own language, you must endeavour to be 
 thoroughly and intimately acquainted. It is pain- 
 ful to see men, and men too of classical attain- 
 ments, evincing an occasional ignorance of some 
 of the common rules of the grammar of their own 
 tongue — an ignorance indeed quite unpardonable, 
 when it is considered how easily it may be under- 
 stood by those who know well the grammar of any 
 other language. The best system of English 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 29 
 
 grammar is that of Murray, which should be fre- 
 quently consulted* 
 
 When you have obtained a sufficient knowledge 
 of the Latin and Greek, (for of the Hebrew I 
 shall say nothing, because it does not enter into 
 the plan of study I shall lay down,) to be able 
 to read the classical writers in their own langua- 
 ges with facility, you will then enjoy their beau- 
 ties, and be less disposed afterwards to abandon 
 them — a practice which, I regret to say, is but 
 too common among the educated young men of this 
 country. This reprehensible negligence should 
 be cautiously avoided by all who desire to derive 
 advantage from their classical attainments ; and, to 
 retain the knowledge which has been thus, with 
 some labour aco A uired, it will be necessary, from 
 time to time, to look over some favourite author of 
 antiquity, and occasionally to translate passages 
 from your own, into the languages of Greece and 
 Rome, Sir William Jones and Gibbon, two illus- 
 trious names, pursued this plan with great success 
 and much advantage, and the latter, who has fur- 
 nished in himself an excellent example of study, 
 strongly recommends it to the imitation of stu- 
 dents. But, while I recommend such a proficien- 
 cy in those languages as I have mentioned, I do 
 not wish to be understood as conceiving it either 
 C 2 
 
30 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 important or essential, that you should be pro- 
 foundly and critically versed in their different 
 idioms and various metres, or be able to write 
 therewith fluency. I wish that degree of skill to 
 be left to professors who make teaching the occu- 
 pation of life. It is enough that you can read 
 them with such ease as to be capable of feeling 
 and relishing the numerous and exquisite beauties 
 in which the classical writers abound. To this 
 point your efforts must be directed, and if you 
 have even an ordinary tact for the attainment of 
 language, you will be able to reach it without any 
 very appalling difliculty : And when you have 
 reached it, the acquirement of the modern lan- 
 guages will be a source rather of pleasure than of 
 pain. Of those, the most useful are, the French, 
 Spanish, Italian, and, if you please, *he German. 
 These, like the dead languages, may be regarded 
 as instruments of knowledge, calculated to open 
 to your mind a wider field, and more extended 
 range of thought. Experience will show that the 
 labour and difficulty of acquiring the dead, as well 
 as the living languages, exist more in fancy than 
 reality. In the short interval of eight months, 
 Gibbon made himself a complete master of the 
 Latin and French, with which he had previously 
 been but superficially, acquainted ; read a great 
 deal in both, went through the Greek grammar, 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 31 
 
 and mastered the principles of De Crousas' Logic. 
 And a French writer of considerable ability, asserts 
 that, with a knowledge of the grammar, barely suf- 
 ficient to distinguish the cases of nouns, and the 
 principal tenses of the verbs, a very competent fa- 
 cility in reading Greek may be obtained in the 
 short space of five or six months. His plan is first 
 to take up some easy author, such as iEsop, or 
 what would be still better, Dalzell's Collectanea 
 Graeca Minora ; study these well, pass on to the 
 History of Animals by Elian, or the Graeca Ma- 
 jora, then commence Homer, and commit to me- 
 mory, every evening, the passages that have been 
 well understood. After this, proceed to translate, 
 successively, Xenophon, Plato, and lastly Sopho- 
 cles, and if the student should meet, in his pro- 
 gress, with any very obscure passage which cannot 
 be explained by the scholiasts, it should be drop- 
 ped, till he is better skilled in the language. "I 
 experienced, at first, some embarrassments, in 
 pursuing this plan," says Deleuze, the writer 1 
 have alluded to ; " but the difficulties insensibly 
 vanished ; the analogy of words enabled me to 
 recognise the roots, I became passionately fond 
 of Homer ; the verses which I had committed, re- 
 called to me his expressions, and accustomed my 
 ear to his harmony. In fine, in less than six 
 months I was in a condition to read Sophocles, 
 
32 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 
 
 In each new author, I experienced some difficulty 
 at the commencement, but after having made 
 some efforts through the first pages, I seized the 
 sense with a facility that was a matter of aston- 
 ishment even to myself." 
 
 To those who are unacquainted with the Latin, 
 or who know it imperfectly, I would recommend 
 a similar plan for the study of that language.— 
 Begin with Ross 5 Grammar, which may be com- 
 mitted to memory in two weeks ; proceed to 
 the Historiae Sacras ; thence to Caesar's Commen- 
 taries, in connexion with the six first books of 
 Ovid. Read, successively, Virgil and Sallust, 
 Horace and Livy, and, finally, Cicero's Orations : 
 the whole of which may be accomplished, even 
 without the aid of a teacher, by due perseverance 
 and proper industry, in a much shorter period of 
 time than might be imagined. But, in learning 
 the Latin and Greek, 1 beg you to remember ne- 
 ver to resort to translations to enable you to ac- 
 quire a knowledge of these, or, indeed, of any 
 other languages. Its tendency is to produce ha- 
 bits of indolence, by enabling you to get, with too 
 much facility, at the meaning of the words you de- 
 sire to translate. This facility enfeebles the me- 
 mory, and by thus depending so little upon it, the 
 foreign word is no sooner acquired than it is for- 
 
A2M3IEWT AND MODERN. 33 
 
 gotten, and language, in truth, becomes nothing 
 more than "winged words." Such has ever been, 
 and will ever be, the case with those who, instead 
 of learning a language by the assistance of a dic- 
 tionary, have recourse to translations, to relieve 
 them from the labour of turning over its leaves 
 to find out the meaning of the words that occur 
 id the original. 
 
 In acquiring the living languages I have recom- 
 mended, the best system you can adopt, is that 
 pursued by Pestalozzi ; which is to repeat the 
 names of things in the language you are learning, 
 under one well acquainted with it, until you have 
 mastered both the pronunciation and meaning of 
 the words — the different cases of the nouns — the 
 moods and tenses of the verbs — and the peculi- 
 arity of the idiom by which it is distinguished — 
 and then frequently to translate from your own, 
 into the language you are studying. This will 
 give you great facility in speaking and writing it ; 
 make you better and more critically acquainted 
 with all its delicacies, and considerably abridge 
 the time usually devoted to its attainment. 
 
 However dry and uninteresting the study of 
 languages may seem at first, it will not long re- 
 main so. When you have made such progress 
 
34 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 
 
 as to be able to read them with even moderate 
 facility, a wide field of beauty and enjoyment 
 will be unfolded to your mind. You will be thus 
 introduced into the society of illustrious men of 
 all ages ; will become familiar with their finest 
 thoughts, and their happiest and most exquisite 
 bursts of feeling and of fancy, in the language in 
 which they were displayed. This can never be 
 seen or felt in translations — in them, much is lost 
 or concealed, and almost every thing is changed. 
 It is like looking at the exquisite features and ra- 
 diant beauty of a lovely woman, through a thick 
 and almost impervious veil. The outline may 
 be discerned, but the colour, the expression, the 
 beauty, are gone. Where is the resemblance be- 
 tween the Illiad of Pope and that of Homer ? 
 The majesty, the grandeur, the sublimity, which 
 distinguish the " prince of poets," are lost in the 
 musical verbiage of his translator. Could the 
 sublimity of Milton, or the beauty of Thompson, 
 be transfused into the language of France, Italy, 
 or Spain ? How much of the charm of each would 
 be lost by such a transmutation! Languages, in- 
 deed, differ not only in the words of which they 
 are composed, but in the shades of ideas which 
 these words express ; in the manner in which these 
 ideas are subordinate to each other, in the ima- 
 ges under which they are presented, and in the 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 35 
 
 particular colours which they give to the leading 
 thought. 
 
 "It is not to know the facts that Tacitus re- 
 counts," says Deleuze, 6i that one reads him in 
 his own language, but to ascertain in what man- 
 ner they are painted on the mind of this profound 
 historian." A literary man acquires a language 
 not barely to obtain additional facts, or to enlarge 
 his circle of knowledge, but to see the different 
 images under which the same thought may be 
 presented, or the same idea painted. His memo- 
 ry becomes enriched by the various turns and 
 beautiful felicities of expression he meets with 
 in the authors he reads ; and, in the exercise of 
 translation, his intellect acquires a force and saga- 
 city and power, that render him better qualified 
 for higher attainments, and more scientific re- 
 searches. These, however, are not all the advan- 
 tages the knowledge of languages is calculated to 
 afford. It breaks down those unreasonable pre- 
 judices which are too apt to exist between nations, 
 and introduces us into the society of men of all 
 ages and of all countries, with whose names we 
 might be familiar, but to whose minds we had 
 been strangers. We become acquainted with the 
 chefd^osuvre of human genius, ornament our minds 
 with their fine conceptions and splendid images,, 
 
36 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 
 
 and improve our taste by the exquisite models of 
 excellence they so abundantly afford. In all the 
 professions, law — medicine- — divinity — and even 
 commerce, their importance is felt and their util- 
 ity acknowledged. It is lamentable to see a man 
 following a profession which has appropriately 
 been termed learned, without a knowledge of any 
 language but his own, and often, indeed, but im- 
 perfectly acquainted with that. He is sensible of 
 his awkwardness, but thinks it cannot now be re- 
 medied, and continues to blunder on, without be- 
 ing able even to approach that elevation to which 
 he might otherwise, in all probability, have at- 
 tained. 
 
 Of the nature and excellences of the living 
 languages, I have recommended to your attention, 
 it is unnecessary here to speak — they will be ob- 
 vious when you have acquired them ; but, while 
 engaged in the study of those languages, it ought 
 always to be borne in mind, that your own must 
 be the paramount object of attainment, to which 
 all the rest must be subservient and conducive ; 
 that you must not be satisfied with a slight or su- 
 perficial acquaintance with it, but ? on the contra- 
 ry, endeavour to understand it perfectly ; that all 
 language is, in truth, but the medium by which 
 knowledge is communicated, the electric chain 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 37 
 
 along which the light of truth and of science is 
 conducted, and not of itself an object of primary 
 importance, or an acquirement of mere vanity. 
 
 "Words are the daughters of earth— Things the sons of heaven.''' 
 
 In studying the modern languages, always se- 
 lect the best authors of each nation ; observe 
 the peculiarities of their style and character — 
 the various modes in which they present the same 
 image — the different forms in which they exhibit 
 the same thought — in short, be attentive to the 
 beauty, grace, harmony, and power of which each 
 language is susceptible, and in these, as in the 
 dead languages, neglect not, occasionally, to com- 
 mit the finest and most striking passages to me- 
 mory. The French and Italian abound in such 
 passages, and the Spanish is far from being entirely 
 destitute of them. In Racine, Corneille, and Vol- 
 taire of France, and Tasso, Ariosto, and Petrarch 
 of Italy, they will be found in abundance, and by 
 pursuing this plan, your memory will be improv- 
 ed, your imagination enriched, and your know- 
 ledge of language rendered more complete and 
 perfect. In addition to these advantages, a know- 
 ledge of the French and Spanish, will also be 
 found of great and permanent utility. The 
 French is now almost the language of the civil- 
 ized world — nearly every where it is spoken 
 D 
 
38 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 and understood ; and the Spanish, exclusive of 
 its intrinsic beauty, dignity and pomp, is now, 
 from its being spoken by a nation with which 
 we must have constant intercourse, and frequent 
 political and commercial relations, become a lan- 
 guage, which it is important should be known 
 by every American, and which ought, by no 
 means, to be neglected. 
 
 Versed in the Latin and Greek, it will occupy 
 but a short portion of your time, to obtain such 
 an acquaintance with the modern tongues as I 
 have mentioned. Five or six months devoted 
 to each, even in connexion with other studies, 
 will be sufficient for that purpose, and if you 
 have, as some men have, a peculiar tact or ap- 
 titude for language, it will not take you so long. 
 Sir William Jones, it is said, acquired a critical 
 knowledge of each of the modern European 
 languages in three months, and but few men, 
 with ordinary minds, or more than common 
 application, would exceed the period of half 
 a year in acquiring any of the living languages 
 1 have named. If, then, such be the ease with 
 which they can be acquired, and the time neces- 
 sary to their attainment so very brief and in- 
 considerable, it should seem a matter of aston- 
 ishment to every reflecting mind, that they are not 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 39 
 
 more generally studied, not only by professional 
 men, but by all who desire to increase their sour- 
 ces of enjoyment, and to render themselves more 
 useful to society. 
 
 It will be obvious to you that a knowledge 
 of the grammar is the first step towards the 
 correct attainment of any language, where it 
 is not generally used as a medium of communi- 
 cation. DufiePs system, therefore, is one I do 
 not think calculated for a beginner, in any 
 other country than France, because he makes a 
 knowledge of the language precede that of its 
 grammar, which, though a natural plan, is more 
 difficult and arduous to the learner. The best 
 grammar of the French language, is that of Wa- 
 nostrocht, with the exercises ; the best of the 
 Italian is that of Antonini, and the best of the 
 Spanish that of Fernandez. For the purpose, 
 however, of uniting the study of Italian, Spanish, 
 and Portuguese, the most useful grammar is that 
 of Woodhouse, which exhibits, in a synoptical 
 form, at one view, the agreements and differences 
 in their grammatical construction, to which I 
 would direct your attention. 
 
 With a knowledge of the Latin and Greek 
 grammars, such as you must necessarily pos- 
 
40 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 
 
 sess in acquiring those languages, it will not 
 be required at first that you should commit 
 more to memory in the grammars of the mo- 
 dern tongues than the declensions of the nouns, 
 the conjugations of the verbs, and the peculiar- 
 ities of the idioms by which they are distin- 
 guished. These, by a little effort, you will soon 
 acquire, and, when you have acquired them^ 
 your facility in speaking and reading these lan- 
 guages will be soon experienced; but to be per- 
 fect in them, the plan I have already suggested, 
 namely, to exercise yourself frequently in trans- 
 lating from your own into the language you are 
 learning, and to endeavour, occasionally, to think 
 in and speak it, will be found to be much the 
 most useful. 
 
 I will now conclude, but, before I do so, I 
 must not neglect to apprise you that in trans- 
 lating the poets of those nations whose lan- 
 guages I have recommended for your attain- 
 ment, you will encounter some difficulties, es- 
 pecially in the figurative expressions, in the bold- 
 ness of the turns, in the ellipsis, and particularly in 
 the inversions they employ. The works which are 
 the least easy to be understood, are those which 
 treat of domestic manners, the particular customs 
 and usages of countries, and those which paint the 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN. 41 
 
 ridiculous in the familiar language of conversa- 
 tion, proverbs, colloquialisms, and common saws. 
 These are very embarrassing to the learner, and 
 the Dictionary does not always furnish a key to 
 their explanation. Such are many of the scenes 
 in comedy, and some of the productions of the sa- 
 tirists, as Quevedo and Gongora, among the Span- 
 iards ; Tassoni, among the Italians, and Plautus and 
 Persius, among the Latins. Books, too, which treat 
 of arts, present difficulties of another sort, from 
 their abounding in technical terms ; but they do 
 not much obscure the sense of the passage, and 
 can easily be understood by the assistance of a 
 Dictionary. 
 
 These are the principal difficulties you will 
 meet with in the study of the languages I have 
 named ; but these are difficulties which will be 
 disregarded as trifling and unimportant, I am 
 sure, by those who are solicitous to enrich their 
 minds, to improve their faculties, to rise above the 
 common level of mankind, and to render them- 
 selves useful to society within the sphere in which 
 their destiny has placed them. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 D 2 
 
LETTER II. 
 
 ON A COURSE OF RHETORIC, ORATORY, AND 
 POETRY, 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 Having paved the way to the temple of 
 knowledge, I must desire you to accompany me 
 into the vestibule, where you will see the objects 
 to which you have now to pay your devotions. 
 These, I think, you will find neither of a less 
 useful nor less pleasing nature, and will require, 
 if not an equal, at least, a considerable por- 
 tion of your attention. The " Rhetorician's 
 rules," however much they may be assailed by 
 wit, or depreciated by ridicule, are nevertheless 
 indispensable to the formation of a fine speaker 
 and an elegant writer. An art which is acknow- 
 ledged, and must be admitted to have this ten- 
 dency, is certainly one that deserves to be 
 known, and known intimately. It is your wish, 
 you say, to become an orator, that you may 
 distinguish yourself, if possible, at the bar and 
 in the senate of your country ; and if such be, 
 indeed, your ambition, the necessity of an ac- 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 43 
 
 quaintance with the principles of rhetoric and 
 oratory, must be apparent. I need only assure 
 you, that without some acquaintance with them, 
 it will be next to impossible to make a figure, 
 either as a writer or a speaker. 
 
 The affinity which exists between these two 
 arts is so great, that many of the first rhetoricians 
 have declared them to be precisely the same ; but 
 I conceive this opinion to be somewhat erroneous. 
 I regard rhetoric as the theory, and oratory as the 
 art of speaking well ; rhetoric barely contains the 
 system, or body of rules, which oratory reduces 
 to practice.* These rules or principles which you 
 will find in the books I shall hereafter name, must 
 be well understood and familiarised to your mind, 
 and though they are not of themselves sufficient 
 to form an orator, they will, nevertheless, enable 
 him, who knows and can apply them, to attain to 
 the highest degree of perfection of which the art 
 is susceptible \ but few, however, have reached 
 this perfection at the bar, in the pulpit, or the sen- 
 ate of this country ; because but few have bes- 
 towed upon this art that attention which its utility 
 and importance demand, and which the ancient 
 rhetoricians and orators considered as so essen- 
 tial to excellence. 
 
 * Pliny's Letters, Lib. 1. 
 
44 COURSE OP RHETORIC, 
 
 Rhetoric, or the art of speaking well, very 
 properly follows, as a consecutive study, gram- 
 mar, or the art of speaking correctly, on which 
 I have sufficiently dwelt in mj last. The one 
 is the foundation of, and indispensable to, the 
 other; it is the humble, but substantial base on 
 which rhetoric forms the rich and splendid super- 
 structure. " Grammar," says an able writer of our 
 own country, u clothes the shadowv tribes of mind 
 in the plain substantial attire of a quaker ; rhetor- 
 ic arrays them in the glories of princely magnifi- 
 
 Havmg made yourself well acquainted with the 
 principles of rhetoric and oratory which you will 
 find laid down to the fullest extent in Aristotle,! 
 Cicero^Quinctillian^Blair^lCampbeHJWard,** 
 Sheridan,tt and Adams ; it will be necessary, in 
 order that you may have an opportunity to apply 
 them, to exercise yourself frequently in compost- 
 
 * J. Q. Adams' Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory. 
 
 t Aristotle De Rhetor. Lib. 3. 
 
 ^Cicero De Oratore. 
 
 § Quinct. Inst. Orat. 
 
 [j Blair's Lectures. 
 
 T Campbell's Phil of Rhet. 
 
 ** Ward's System of Oratory,, 
 
 ft Sheridan on Elocution* 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 46 
 
 lion. This is the first step in the formation of a 
 fine writer and an accomplished and elegant 
 speaker : but while I recommend a knowledge of 
 the rhetorician's rules, I do not wish to be under- 
 stood as desiring you to burthen or overload your 
 mind too much with them. An attentive and 
 careful study of Blair, Quinctillian, and Cicero, 
 will furnish you with all the principles it may be 
 essential for you to know ; but as you advance in 
 your knowledge of this art, it will be proper to 
 examine the authors I have named, to give you a 
 more general acquaintance with the subject. As 
 an additional aid, you may also join to these, 
 Kaim's Elements of Criticism, Gregory's Letters 
 on Rhetoric, Alison on Taste, Schlegel's Dramatic 
 Lectures, and such other well written works of 
 genius on general criticism and Belles Lettres, as 
 you can procure. 
 
 When well versed in the theory of rhetoric, 
 let it be your constant employment to make a 
 practical application of the elements you have 
 acquired, by writing and declaiming ; study the 
 best models in composition and oratory ; endea- 
 vour to imbibe their spirit, to catch their style, 
 to reach their excellences. Models are more 
 useful than precepts ; the painter first learns to 
 handle his pencil, and to mix his colours, but it 
 
4G COURSE OF RHETORIC, 
 
 is only by studying the finest specimens of his art 
 that he arrives at perfection, and attains celebrity. 
 Read, and read again, the orations of Demosthe- 
 nes and Cicero, observe their peculiarities, imitate 
 their excellences, and labour to rival their elo* 
 quence. It is impossible that finer, or more ad- 
 mirable models can be presented in any art than 
 they afford, and an intimate acquaintance with 
 them, will go further to make you a distinguished 
 orator than all the rules on this subject that can 
 be furnished, or that you can acquire : but these 
 are not the only models to the study of which I 
 would recommend you ; you must unite to the an- 
 cients some of the moderns who have excelled in 
 eloquence ; you must read with attention and care 
 the speeches of Pitt, Fox, Burke, Sheridan, Ers- 
 kine, Curran ? * and Grattan, who exhibit some of 
 
 *Curran , s eloquence Is rather too florid for the bar; he must 
 be studied with great caution, because his manner is apt to fa- 
 scinate the mind, and to corrupt the taste of youth. Currants 
 imagination was brilliant and poetical, and often led him to 
 paint and embellish, while he ought to have reasoned, and to 
 delight the fancy while he ought to have convinced. But Curran. 
 was a man of great genius, and would, no doubt, have been as 
 great a poet as he was an orator. There is in oratory, as well 
 as composition, a simplicity and unity which are extremely beau- 
 tiful, and which should always be aimed at by all who wish to 
 reach perfection. 
 
 "Denique sit quodvis simplex d'untaxat et unum«" 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 4T 
 
 the most exquisite specimens of forensic and par- 
 liamentary eloquence in modern times. 
 
 To the study of these models, you must join 
 the habit of declaiming,* with an oratorical voice 
 and gesture. " An exercise," says sir W. Jones, 
 "more useful and more ornamental than any 
 other." This was a habit which Demosthenes 
 frequently practised, and which the best modern 
 orators have followed with infinite advantage. — 
 It gives to the person a grace and dignity, and 
 to the tones of the voice a modulation and com- 
 pass, that nothing else can bestow. Demosthe- 
 nes regarded delivery or action as the most es- 
 sential part of oratory, and bestowed infinite 
 labour on its attainment ; but the whole soul of 
 Demosthenes was bent on the possession of the 
 highest possible excellence in eloquence, and 
 that excellence he finally reached, as every one 
 else must who admires it as much, and who 
 labours in its pursuit as unremittingly and de- 
 votedly as he did. The man, indeed, who could 
 bury himself in a cave, resist all the allurements 
 of pleasure, overcome the defects of nature, and 
 copy the works of Thucydides ten times with his 
 
 * Curr an strongly recommends the practice of declaiming pas- 
 sages from Shakspeare, as one which he pursued with great ad«« 
 vantage. 
 
48 COURSE OF RHETORIC, 
 
 own hand, to become an orator, was not easily 
 to be checked in his career, or diverted from 
 his purpose, by ordinary impediments, or com- 
 mon difficulties. This is an example I should de- 
 light to see you imitate. Believe me, no excel- 
 lence can be reached without labour, and labour 
 you must submit to, if you wish to be distinguish- 
 ed in the literary, scientific, or professional walks 
 of life. Oratory requires much and various 
 knowledge, " Omnibus disciplinis et artibus debet 
 esse insiructus orator." To obtain this, it will 
 be my business to mark out the course to be 
 followed, and your's to pursue it with unceasing 
 assiduity and perseverance. 
 
 In the study of oratory, as well as of composi- 
 tion, do not imitate any one model too closely, but 
 endeavour to unite the beauties and excellences 
 of all, and to form a style of writing and speaking 
 perfectly your own. In both, always strive to do 
 your best ; cautiously avoid negligence and care- 
 lessness in whatever you attempt, and when you 
 are obliged to speak or to write, always do it in 
 the best possible manner, and in the most correct 
 and polished style. This will enable you to form 
 & habit of accuracy at first, that it will be difficult 
 for you afterwards to lose ; and you will, yourself, 
 aften be surprised at the facility, and others as 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 49 
 
 often at the ease and grace with which you speak 
 and compose. Practise frequently — it is by prac- 
 tice you will attain perfection : but always re- 
 member that to speak or write with eloquence, 
 you must first master the subject on which you 
 are employed; consider it in all its bearings; 
 view it in all its aspects ; examine it in all 
 its details, and when you have thus stored your 
 mind with ideas, you will find no deficiency 
 of expression. The copia verborum cannot but 
 be yours, and the 
 
 " Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," 
 
 will be at your command. Order in speaking 
 and writing is a most essential quality, and should 
 never be neglected.* It greatly facilitates the 
 march of thought, and contributes to the power 
 of conviction. The lucidus ordo was enforced 
 by the earliest critics. Pliny observes, that, 
 " barbarians can express themselves magnificent- 
 ly, but to arrange and dispose the parts of a work 
 properly, is denied to all but the learned."! This 
 should not, however, be too conspicuous ; if it 
 
 * An orator, who does not methodise his discourse, is not ful- 
 ly master of his subject; he has but an imperfect taste and a 
 low genius. A discourse is perfect, when it has at oncemethod, 
 propriety, strength, and vehemence. Feivelon on ELoauYE. 
 t Pliny Ep. I. 3. c. 13. 
 
 E 
 
50 COURSE OP RHETORIC, 
 
 be, the effect will be lost: desinat ars esse si 
 apparet ; let your maxim always be ars est celare 
 artem. At the commencement of your profes- 
 sional career, I think it would be judicious, 
 at least till you have acquired sufficient confi- 
 dence, to prepare your speeches, or, accord- 
 ing to Hume, to compose all your arguments, 
 objections, and answers, beforehand; you will 
 then find yourself at no loss either for arguments 
 or for words, and should you happen to be 
 much pressed, you will be always in readiness 
 to meet your opponent on equal grounds, and 
 to handle your battle-axe, .or to wield your 
 lance, as necessity may require. Let your man- 
 ner and style be always suited to the subject and 
 the occasion, and your oratory adapted to the na- 
 ture of the audience you are addressing. Your 
 own judgment will point out to you the difference 
 between the eloquence suited to the bar, and that 
 calculated for a deliberative assembly ; when it is 
 necessary to reason, when to address the imagina- 
 tion, and when to play upon the passions. Indeed 
 good sense must be your guide and instructer in 
 all things : it is emphatically the principium et forts 
 of fine speaking, as well as of fine writing. " I 
 would have an orator" says Archbishop Fenelon, 
 than whom there could not be a better judge, 
 " naturally a man of good sense, and to reduce all 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. ol 
 
 he says io good sense as the standard of his dis- 
 course." Cicero, another authority on this head, 
 whose right to instruct will not be denied, or con- 
 troverted says, that " Wisdom is the foundation 
 of eloquence ; and that eloquence is, indeed, 
 nothing more than copious and florid wisdom." 
 As it respects delivery, I have only to recom- 
 mend the advice of Shakspeare, " Suit the ac- 
 tion to the word, the word to the action, with 
 this special observance, that you o'erstep not 
 the modesty of nature," u and, in the very tor- 
 rent, tempest, and whirlwind of passion, you 
 must acquire and beget a temperance that may 
 give it smoothness," 
 
 Elocution, as a branch of oratory, will re- 
 quire much of your attention, because it is one 
 of no small importance in the formation of an 
 orator. Of the modern writers on this sub- 
 ject, the best is Sheridan, and to him may be 
 added Abercrombie, of Philadelphia, whose lec- 
 tures you may read with great advantage. The 
 best models of English prose composition, the 
 rules of which it is the end of rhetoric to teach, 
 are Swift, Addison, Bolingbroke, Goldsmith, Dr. 
 Johnson, Middleton, Hume, Robertson, and Gib- 
 bon, who have exhibited in their respective 
 productions, all the majesty, vigour, grace, har- 
 
52 COURSE QFRHETOR1C, 
 
 rnony, polish, and beauty, of which the English 
 language is perhaps susceptible. These models 
 you must frequently consult while prosecuting, 
 and after you have completed, your course of 
 studies, to familiarize your mind to their beau- 
 ties and peculiarities, and to acquire a style at 
 once rich, graceful, energetic, and elegant. But, 
 after all, on the Greek and Roman models you 
 must bestow the most of your attention. To the 
 Romans as well as the Greeks. 
 
 —Ingenium — dedit ore rotundo 
 
 Musa loqui, prater laudem nullius avaris. 
 
 In short, my dear son, the true definition of 
 good writing and good speaking is, after all, sim- 
 ply to place proper words and proper thoughts in 
 their proper places. And, in the language of Fen- 
 elon, " To adorn your discourse only with bright 
 truths, noble sentiments, and such strong expres- 
 sions as are adapted to the subject, and to the 
 passions intended to be excited." Always re- 
 collect that the true and legitimate end of elo- 
 quence is not barely to amuse the ear by the lus- 
 ciousness and harmony ofyourperiods, or to charm 
 the imagination by the richness and magnificence 
 of your pictures, but to enlighten the minds, di- 
 rect the judgment, and*suppress the malignant and 
 irregular passions of those whom you address— 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 53 
 
 to defend the innocent — to maintain the laws of 
 your country, and to contribute to the virtue and 
 the happiness of mankind. In this, as in all re* 
 publicks, eloquence is impressed with a high mor- 
 al and intellectual character ; it can, if properly 
 directed, enable you to wield the destinies of your 
 country; to annihilate the spirit of despotism; to 
 soften the ferocity of party feeling ; to give tone 
 and energy to public sentiment, and, like the 
 lightning of heaven, to blast all the machinations 
 of the wicked, the designing, and the ambitious. 
 It was this that enabled Demosthenes to tear the 
 mask from the hirelings of Philip, and stir up the 
 Athenians to the defence of their country ; it was 
 this that gave Cicero the power he possessed over 
 the minds of his countrymen, to denounce and 
 call down vengeance on Verres, who had robbed 
 the province entrusted to his care, and to expose 
 and cover with odium the character of Cataline. 
 
 To give eloquence its full effect, however, a 
 high degree of virtue must be its basis.* "He 
 preaches sublimely," says Saint Austin, " whose 
 life is irreproachable." We listen with more at- 
 tention and with greater benefit and pleasure to 
 him whom we know to be good, and who, we are 
 
 * Mores primum, moxeloquentiam discat quae male sine mor= 
 ibus discitur. Plin. 
 
 E 2 
 
54 course or rhetoric, 
 
 sure, will not deceive us, than we can possibly 
 do to him, however eminent in eloquence and 
 learning, who has no moral qualities to recom- 
 mend him. Be virtuous, then, as well as en- 
 lightened — be greatly good as well as greatly 
 learned, if you desire to be eminent as an ora- 
 tor, or distinguished as^a man. With a wea- 
 pon so powerful, so irresistible, you may be 
 either a blessing or a curse to your family and 
 your country, and, I am sure, you will not hesi- 
 tate which to choose. In the profession you in- 
 tend to adopt, the moral qualities of the heart are 
 more essential than in any other, and should inva- 
 riably form the chief ingredient in the character of 
 a lawyer, because much is confided to his care and 
 management, and because, from the nature of 
 things, great confidence must necessarily be repo- 
 sed in his integrity and wisdom. 
 
 You will, perhaps, be a little surprised when I 
 recommend, as an important auxiliary to ora- 
 tory, the study of poetry ; but it is nevertheless 
 correct, and you will soon perceive their har- 
 monious and delightful connexion. They are, 
 indeed, sister arts, muses that sport near the same 
 fountain, and that sometimes bestow their fa- 
 vours alike on such as court the caresses of either. 
 One of the most distinguished parliamentary ora- 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 55 
 
 tors of his age* has said, with much truth, "that 
 the study of good authors, and especially poets, 
 ought never to he intermitted by any man who is 
 to speak or write for the public, or, indeed, who 
 has any occasion to tax his imagination, whether it 
 be for argument, for illustration, for ornament, for 
 sentiment, or any other purpose." The read- 
 ing of poetry enriches the imagination — liberal- 
 izes the feeling, and recreates the mind; it supplies 
 the speaker with fine images, happy illustrations, 
 and beautiful turns of thought and expression; 
 it fills up the vacuum of a leisure hour agreeably 
 and usefully, and, by infusing the spirit and fire of 
 poesy, makes his eloquence mora impressive, cap- 
 tivating, and ornamental. " The greatest orators," 
 says Pliny, " have not only made poetry their de- 
 light, but one of their most laudible pursuits." 
 " La poesia^ says Cervantes, " a mi paracer, es 
 eomo una doncella tierna, y depoca edad, y en todo 
 extremo hermosa, aquien tienen cuidado de enriquec- 
 eur, pulir 8/ adorna otras muchas doncellas, que son 
 todos las otras cientias y ella ha de y ella ha de 
 servir de> todas y todas se han de autorizar conella^ 
 
 In short, my dear son, the testimonies in favour 
 of this divine art, as a recreation to the mind and 
 an aid to oratory, are almost innumerable. In the 
 
 * C.J. Fox. 
 
56 COURSE OF BHETORIC, 
 
 study of the dead and foreign living languages, 1 
 have suggested to you the necessity of committing 
 to memory the best and finest passages of the po- 
 ets, and, I trust, you will not neglect this admoni- 
 tion, nor omit to pursue the same plan, in relation 
 to the poets, in your own language. Exclusive 
 of its general utility, it will be found a source of 
 much gratification, in moments of langour and so- 
 litude, on the bed of sickness, or even of death, 
 to recal the fine poetical pictures of imagination, 
 and the exquisite, pathetic and beautiful touches of 
 the poet on which you have once dwelt with rap- 
 ture and delight. The heart, thus engaged, feels 
 purified and mellowed, and the mind harmonises 
 and becomes tinged with the peculiar cast of sen- 
 timent and feeling, the poetry by which it is oc- 
 cupied, is calculated to produce. Let it then be 
 one of your principal amusements, to read the 
 best poets in every language with which you are 
 acquainted, till they have become perfectly fami- 
 liar to you. But on those, in your own tongue, 
 you will of course take greater delight to dwell, 
 because from them you will, perhaps, derive a 
 higher degree of pleasure. Of the Greek poets, 
 to read often, I would select Homer, Theocritus, 
 Anacreon, Pindar, Euripides and Sophocles ; of 
 the Latin, Virgil, Horace, Juvenal, and Ovid ; of 
 the French, the most useful foreign language, 
 
ORATORY, AND POETRY. 57 
 
 Corneiile, Racine, Voltaire, Rousseau and Delille; 
 of the Italian, Ariosto, Tasso, Dante, Petrarch, and 
 Alfieri ; of the Spanish, Lopez de la Vega, Ere- 
 cilla, and Calderon; of the German, Klopstock, 
 Schiller and Goethe ; and of the English, Spencer, 
 Shakspeare, Milton, Pope, Dryden, Thompson, 
 Goldsmith, Gray, Akenside, Cowper, and Camp- 
 bell. These should be read frequently and with 
 great attention. You will soon appreciate their 
 merits, and relish their beauties ; they will refine 
 your taste and exalt your imagination. The other 
 poets may be read, if you please, but these should 
 be studied, in as much as they contain the pith and 
 essence of the poetry, in the various languages in 
 which they have written. Of the English poets 
 you perhaps cannot read too often or examine too 
 critically, the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Pope 
 and Thompson, because from these you will de- 
 rive a full knowledge of the energy and copious- 
 ness of your vernacular language, of the richness 
 and harmony of its versification, and of the com- 
 pass—variation — power and beauty of which it is 
 susceptible. The admirable strokes of nature, 
 every where abounding in Shakspeare, " fancy's 
 airy child;" the grandeur and sublimity of thought 
 and expression of Milton; the harmony, conden- 
 sation, scrupulous accuracy and fine moral senti- 
 ment of Pope ; and the minute and exquisite pen- 
 
58 COURSE OF RHETORIC, &C. 
 
 cilling, the rich and beautiful colouring of Thomp- 
 son, cannot but furnish the mind with the finest 
 sources of delicate and durable pleasure. Let 
 the best poets, then, I beseech you, meet with 
 a due share of your attention at all times 5 and 
 amidst your abstruser studies, and more ardu- 
 ous employments, let them be your occasional 
 companions and friends. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER III. 
 
 0N A COURSE OF LOGIC AND MATHEMATICS, 
 
 My Pear Son : 
 
 To the art of speaking well, may, with 
 great propriety, succeed the art of reasoning well : 
 the one is, indeed, of very little use without the 
 other, because the essence of eloquence is per- 
 suasion, and to persuade without reasoning, is 
 almost impossible. On this art, as on that of 
 rhetoric, much ridicule has been occasionally 
 cast; but, I think, very undeservedly, notwith- 
 standing the extremes to which it was carried in 
 the middle ages. In its nature, objects, and ex- 
 tent, it is one, indeed, of no inconsiderable im- 
 portance ; for that surely cannot be unimportant, 
 which is connected with the philosophy of the 
 human intellect, and the nature and construction 
 of human language ; which points out the process 
 pursued by the mind in arriving at truth, and 
 which tends to guide and direct it in that pursuit. 
 A competent mastery, therefore, of logic, and the 
 mathematical sciences, will be of essential utility 
 to you ; not only in your future historical research- 
 
60 COURSE OP LOGIC, 
 
 es, but in almost every transaction of life, both 
 private and professional, in which you may be 
 engaged. The love of truth is inherent in the 
 nature, and coeval with the organization, of man : 
 he pursues it as he pursues an object dear to his 
 affections. — Light is always preferable to dark- 
 ness, and truth is always more desirable than 
 error ; because error is not, and cannot be, con- 
 genial to his nature, 
 
 Rien n'est beau qui le vrai, le vrai seul est aimable. Boileau. 
 
 Reason has been bestowed on us to regulate 
 our conduct — to sway and influence our mo- 
 tives — to direct us through the mazes of decep- 
 tion and error, and to control and govern the in- 
 temperate ebullitions of passion. It is the richest 
 blessing the Deity could confer on man, in this 
 state of probationary trial, as it tends to produce 
 and to augment his happiness, and to elevate him 
 in the scale of human existence. The improve- 
 ment and exercise of this faculty, are at once our 
 duty and our privilege, and the more it is enlight- 
 ened and improved, the more it approximates the 
 great living fountain from which it emanated, and 
 by which it exists. To facilitate this improve- 
 ment, logic, as an art, has been introduced ; but 
 logic, as an art, is the result, not the origin, of 
 that process of the mind which leads to the dis- 
 
AND MATHEMATICS. 61 
 
 covery of truth. The first employment of man. 
 in the infancy of life, is to acquire ideas and 
 their names ; he combines, compares, and ana- 
 lyzes, before he is aware of the existence of such 
 an art, and reaches the truth, by a process of 
 which he is conscious, although he is, perhaps, 
 ignorant of its name. Every man who possesses 
 a sound mind is, in a greater or less degree, a 
 logician. He analyzes, compares, and deduces, 
 without any acquaintance with the dialectics of 
 the schools ; because, to analyze, compare, and 
 deduce, is a necessary, if not an voluntary, opera- 
 tion of the mind. Logic, like grammar, is not 
 the origin, but the result, of something which has 
 preceded it, and which has been formed into a 
 system, by a close and habitual attention to the 
 process which the mind adopts, while in the act 
 of reasoning. Of this system, you can acquire 
 a very competent knowledge from Watts or Dun- 
 can ;* but that alone, though certainly very use- 
 ful, is not sufficient to make you a practical and 
 able logician — you must go further; you must 
 habituate your mind to close and accurate ana- 
 lysis, on every occasion, when a doubtful pro- 
 position is submitted ; and always, when pro- 
 per, to pursue that mode of raciocination, which 
 
 * Watts and Duncan's Logic. 
 
62 COURSE OF LOGIC 
 
 leads from the known to the unknown ; for 
 
 " What can we reason, but from what we know?" 
 
 I think analysis the most natural, and decided- 
 ly the most preferable mode of investigation : as 
 it renders our knowledge more accurate, and our 
 minds more correct. Nor, indeed, can it do other- 
 wise ; for every object that presents itself is de- 
 composed, and all its parts, or original principles, 
 separately and distinctly marked, investigated, 
 and understood, before they are again put toge- 
 ther, and the truth of the whole admitted. But 
 though I conceive this to be the most natural 
 and the most correct and useful mode of reason- 
 ing, I do not wish to be understood as excluding 
 what is termed the method of composition or 
 synthesis. B >th have their advocates and follow- 
 ers, and both are conceded to have their advan- 
 tages. Most mathematicians, however, prefer 
 the synthetical process, as more short and sim- 
 ple, though they are often constrained to employ 
 the analytical.* You may adopt which you 
 please, because I know the result will be the same ; 
 but I should choose the method of decomposi- 
 tion or analysis, as one better calculated for the 
 investigation of almost every kind of subject. — 
 
 * Euler and Lagrange are Analysists of the first rank, whom 
 you may consult. 
 
AND MATHEMATICS. 63 
 
 To the writers of logic I have mentioned above, 
 you must add, Collard's Essentials and Praxis of 
 Logic, Locke on the Understanding, Condorcet's 
 Logic, and, finally, Aristotle, the creator and 
 founder of dialectics. An acquaintance with 
 these writers, and a habit of accurate reasoning, 
 according to the established rules and principles 
 of logic, laid down by them, will be of great and 
 obvious utility to you, in all your intellectual pur- 
 suits, and in almost all the business of life. It 
 will enable you to detect sophistry, to expose er- 
 ror, to arrive at truth, and to think with precision 
 and accuracy. 
 
 The transition from logic to the mathematical 
 sciences,* especially trigonometry and geometry, 
 is very easy; because geometry and trigonometry 
 constitute, in themselves, an admirable system of 
 practical logic, and form the mind to close and 
 accurate thinking. In the one, nothing is admit- 
 ted without demonstration, and the mind is never 
 
 * The study of mathematics often succeeds that of the lan- 
 guages; but, I think, the arrangement I have adopted, the best, 
 as the study of rhetoric and logic will better prepare the mind 
 for the reception of the mathematical sciences, particularly 
 mixed mathematics, and render them more easily understood. 
 Arithmetic and the elements of geometry may be learned, if the 
 student pleases, before he commences his rhetorical and logi- 
 cal studies. 
 
64 GOURSE OF LOGIC 
 
 satisfied without truth. In both, the synthetic and 
 analytical method of reasoning is pursued ; in 
 "both you are led on from truth to truth, from pro- 
 position to proposition, from the most simple to 
 the most complete ideas : the whole attention be- 
 comes riveted, and every faculty is banished but 
 memory and judgment.* The excellence of this 
 science, setting aside its other obvious advantages, 
 as a system of practical logic, as a system by which 
 the mind is disciplined, invigorated, and trained to 
 the most perfect accuracy and precision, must 
 be admitted, notwithstanding the objections that 
 have been urged against it on this head. The 
 mathematics have been, with great propriety, de- 
 nominated exact ; because nothing but what is 
 susceptible of rigorous demonstration is received : 
 the imagination has no opportunity to sport ; the 
 mind has no room to doubt ; all is perspicuity ; — - 
 truth is the object of pursuit, and truth, at last, 
 stands unveiled in all the fascination and splen- 
 dour of native loveliness, without decoration 
 and without ornament. 
 
 The very language of this science, Algebra, is 
 as distinguished for its simplicity, as the science 
 
 *It would be proper to connect the reading of poetry witn 
 the study of mathematics, so that the imagination might be im- 
 proved simultaneously with the memory and judgment. 
 
AND MATHEMATICS. 65 
 
 itself, which it is employed to unfold and illus- 
 trate. Every thing about it is trimmed down to 
 the greatest exactness — reduced to the most strik- 
 ing obviousness and utility. There are no use- 
 less adjuncts, no superfluous flourishes of argu- 
 ment or of fancy ; all about it is plain, precise, and 
 necessary. 
 
 But to the mathematical sciences, men are 
 apt to become too much attached, and to de- 
 vote, perhaps, too great a share of their time. 
 I wish to caution you against this fascination. 
 The pleasure of discovering truth, of withdraw- 
 ing the drapery which at first conceals her 
 charms, is sometimes so alluring, that no difficul- 
 ty, however great, can check our inclination, or 
 retard our pursuit. It becomes interwoven with 
 our feelings by habit, and, instead of an oc- 
 casional study or amusement, often forms the 
 whole business of life. I warn you against this 
 indulgence in time, lest you should be induced to 
 neglect other studies, perhaps more necessary, to 
 prepare you for the sphere in which it is your de- 
 sire to revolve. 
 
 It has been recommended by a French wri- 
 ter,* and the recommendation should not be ne= 
 
 * Deleuze. 
 F 2 
 
66 COURSE OP LOGIC 
 
 glected, that, in order to abridge the study of 
 mathematics^ this science ought to be regarded, 
 by those who pursue it not as a profession, as 
 an instrument merely; that they should not la- 
 bour to make new discoveries, or invent new 
 methods ; and that they should limit themselves 
 to the knowledge of that which is known, and ne- 
 glect what is only curious in its higher branches., 
 
 Though there is much good sense in this ad- 
 vice, I would not have you to be satisfied with a 
 superficial knowledge of the science, or a slight 
 acquaintance with its elementary principles : you 
 must endeavour to advance still further ; to make 
 yourself acquainted with both pure and mixed 
 mathematics, and the higher branches of analysis, 
 the easy use and application of trigonometrical 
 and algebraic formulae ; the chain of geometrical 
 propositions, and the spirit and process of mathe- 
 matical investigation and philosophy. With such 
 a knowledge of these sciences, it will be impossi- 
 ble either to forget them, or to avoid experiencing 
 their advantage in your subsequent studies and 
 professional pursuits. Under the direction of an 
 able preceptor, your progress will, I doubt not, 
 be rapid, and your improvement sensibly and im- 
 mediately felt 
 
AND MATHEMATICS. 67 
 
 Of the moderns, the best writers on geometry 
 are the English, and the French the best on tri- 
 gonometry, of which I should wish you to make 
 yourself a competent master; because, as Wood- 
 house* very justly observes, "every part of mix- 
 ed mathematics has been enriched by its formulas ; 
 and, since the time of Newton, all enquiries into 
 physical astronomy have been conducted by means 
 of its language." 
 
 The mathematical sciences, besides their pow- 
 er of fixing the attention, and regulating and 
 disciplining the mind, you will findof extensive 
 and varied utility.! They constitute the basis of 
 most of those arts and sciences that add to the 
 comfort of life, and contribute to the enlargement 
 and expansion of the human intellect. They 
 w r ill enable you, more easily, to understand natu- 
 ral philosophy, civil and natural history, chronolo- 
 gy, political economy, the arts, &c. ; because 
 with these different branches of knowledge, they 
 have a close and intimate connexion, and mingle 
 and embody themselves with them. The best 
 and most general course of mathematics, is that 
 
 * Woodhouse on Plane and Spherical Trigonometr}'-. 
 
 t It has been said by Charles XII. of Sweden, that he who 
 is ignorant of arithmetic, is but half a man. 
 
68 COURSE OF LOGIC 
 
 laid down by Hutton.* It embraces all that is 
 necessary to be known, (stopping at spherical 
 trigonometry in the 2d vol.) by those who 
 do not mean to devote their exclusive attention 
 to the science ; but if you design to enter more 
 deeply and extensively into its principles and 
 branches, you will find a sufficient number of 
 able and learned writers of almost every modern 
 nation, to give you all the instruction you need 
 desire. And while you are acquiring the princi- 
 ples, I need scarcely point out to you the neces- 
 sity of making yourself acquainted with the his- 
 tory of the science from its first rude origin, to its 
 present high and brilliant state of improvement. 
 This you can- obtain from Playfair, or Bossuet a 
 French mathematician, of great and merited emi- 
 nence, who has very lucidly related its gradual 
 progress and improvements in the different ages 
 
 * Perhaps the following course of mathematical studies would 
 suit those better who intend to piactice the law, or any of the 
 learned professions, viz : 1st. Pine Mathematics, Arithmetic, 
 Analysis, or Algebra, Playfair's Elements of Geometry, or 
 Simpson's Euclid, six first books, conic-sections, Plane and 
 Spherical Trigonometry, by Woodhouse, Surveying and Mensu- 
 ration. 2nd. Mixed, or Physico Mathematics, viz: Mechanics, 
 Hydrodynamies, Astronomy, Geography, and Acoustics. Of 
 the first division, the most important and useful branches are 
 Surveying and Mensuration ; of the latter, those of Practical 
 and Physical Astronomy and Geography. 
 
AND MATHEMATICS, 69 
 
 and nations of the world, where it has been cul- 
 tivated. 
 
 The acquisition of logic and the mathematical 
 sciences will not, I think, engage you more than 
 two years, and I am sure you will agree with me 
 in saying, when you have completed these studies, 
 that no equal portion of time could have been 
 more advantageously, and perhaps more agreea- 
 bly employed. You see that 1 am brief, but I 
 wish to be so in all my communications. I can- 
 not pause, nor is it necessary to dwell, on the 
 merits of each particular writer I may recom- 
 mend, nor enlarge on the usefulness of every 
 branch of knowledge I may wish you to acquire. 
 The author's name, the nature of the science, and 
 the order in which it is to be studied, will be all 
 that I can give, and, I think, all that will be ne- 
 cessary for your direction. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER IV. 
 
 ON NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 
 My Dear Son: 
 
 I mentioned in the preceding letter that a 
 knowledge of the mathematics, particularly phy- 
 sico-mathematics, was essential to a proper un* 
 derstanding of physiology, or natural philosophy. 
 Indeed there is but little difference between them, 
 except that the latter embraces a wider range and 
 a more extended field of inquiry into the arcana 
 and operations of nature. As the connexion, there- 
 fore, is so intimate, and the importance of the sci- 
 ence so great, you will not experience much 
 difficulty, and I am sure you can have no particu- 
 lar aversion, to dipping into a branch of knowledge 
 so replete with interest and utility. The utility 
 of philosophy you will be enabled correctly to 
 appreciate, when you enter upon your subsequent 
 studies, and have commenced your course of his- 
 torical reading ; from the knowledge you will have 
 of the cause of most things you see around you, 
 and the light and aid it will afford you, in separ- 
 ating the true from the false, the marvellous from 
 the probable, so frequently blended by those his- 
 
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 71 
 
 torians who are ignorant of the laws of nature : 
 for, 
 
 " Nature well known, no prodigies remain." 
 
 "Philosophy, the mother of all good arts," says 
 Cicero, " is in truth the gift and invention of the 
 gods."* It comprehends, in its largest import, 
 the knowledge of whatever belongs to nature, and 
 the causes, effects and properties of all created 
 beings. A field of science, so wide and diversi- 
 fied as this, cannot but be eminently useful and 
 deeply interesting to all who wish to soar above 
 the ignorance of savage life, and to have a more 
 comprehensive view of the stupendous and match- 
 less wisdom of that being who wields the des- 
 tinies of the universe. "The knowledge of na- 
 ture," says Plutarch, " frees us from a supersti- 
 tion full of terrors, and fills us with a true devo- 
 tion, accompanied with a hope of good."t 
 
 As judicious an arrangement of this science as 
 any I have seen, though a little antiquated, is that 
 given by Martin in his Philosophical Grammar — 
 an arrangement which includes the whole scope 
 of physical knowledge, and goes beyond the 
 limits, usually assigned to it by writers on na 
 tuial philosophy. He has divided physiology 
 
 * Cicero Tusc. 1. 
 t Plut. Pericles. 
 
T2 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 into four parts, viz : 1st. Somatology, which 
 treats of the universal nature and properties 
 of matter ; 2nd. Cosmology, or astronomy, which 
 exhibits a general view of the universe ; 3rd. 
 Aerology, which comprises the philosophy of the 
 atmosphere and its phenomena ; and, 4th, Geolo- 
 gy, which contains a philosophical view of the 
 earth and its animals, minerals, vegetable produc- 
 tions, &c. With these three first divisions, you 
 will find no difficulty in making yourself ac- 
 quainted, because you are already, from your 
 prior studies, in no small degree, conversant with 
 them ; but the fourth, and last branch, on the 
 subdivisions of which I shall hereafter dwell 
 more at large, will demand more of your time 
 and labour ; and will, I am certain, excite as 
 much interest, and afford as much pleasure, as 
 either of the preceding. 
 
 On natural philosophy, a great deal has been 
 written, and many improvements have been made 
 in it, but as you have not much time to spare, a 
 careful study of the best systems will be amply 
 sufficient for your purpose. Of these, I think 
 those of Cavallo, Adams, Nicholson, and Playfair,* 
 
 * Cavallo's Natural and Experimental Philosophy, Adams' 
 Elements of Natural Philosophy, Nicholson's Introduction, 
 Playfair's Natural Philosophy. 
 
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 73 
 
 or either of them, will be all that you need study : 
 especially since you have acquired the philosophy 
 of the inimitable Newton, and penetrated the cir- 
 cle of physico-mathematics. 
 
 In examining and investigating the various 
 theories of the earth which have been publish- 
 ed from time to time, by men often rather too 
 visionary and speculative for the character of 
 philosophers, if you should ever have leisure, 
 you would perhaps derive neither amusement 
 nor edification. Their theories are often in- 
 deed plausible and ingenious, but ingenuity and 
 plausibility, in matters of mere speculation, may 
 amuse, but cannot greatly instruct. Cuvier's* is 
 decidedly the best and most rational, and perhaps 
 the only one you need put yourself to any trou- 
 ble to examine ; but with the principles of ge« 
 ology, in the general sense of the word, you must 
 nevertheless, endeavour to make yourself well 
 acquainted ; for, it is by this knowledge, united to 
 that of astronomy, that we can properly under- 
 stand the means employed by nature in the for- 
 mation of the globe. t 
 
 * Buffon's, Burnett's, Hutton's, and Werner's Theories, may 
 also be read as matter of curiosity. 
 
 f The following are the best works in geology, viz : Brande 
 Faujas, and St. Fond. 
 
 G 
 
74 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 This branch of natural philosophy, necessarily 
 embraces the elements of physical geography and 
 natural history : of the subdivisions of the latter, I 
 shall hereafter speak ; but to the elements of the 
 former, or geography, I must now call your at- 
 tention, with a view to impress upon your mind 
 the absolute necessity of acquiring a correct 
 knowledge of them. To this end, you will see 
 the importance of physical astronomy which 
 you will study, in Ferguson, Laland, and La- 
 place.* Indeed the one cannot be properly un- 
 derstood without the other. Astronomy, says 
 Delauze, is "The foundation of geography — 
 the guide of chronology — the light of history — 
 it serves not only to determine the possession 
 of places, and to fix dates, but to rectify the 
 relations of historians, and to discover the cau- 
 ses of their prejudices." 
 
 * It is astonishing, says M. Prony, how great is the number of 
 questions which^astronomy alone can resolve and illustrate, and 
 which are connected with the usages and wants of society — La 
 fination et la classement des epoques de tons les ages ; le calendrier, 
 la mesure el la description du globe terrestre ; la perfection et la 
 surele de la navigation, la connaissance des causes de la differ- 
 entes influences, &lc. Voila une partie de ses bien fails dans ses 
 grandes et nombreuse applications qui semblent etablir une com- 
 munication immediate entre le ciel et la terre ; pour le bonheur 
 dds hommesP 
 
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 75 
 
 I have called your attention to geography, 
 at this time, because it is one of those prelimi- 
 nary branches of knowledge, which you ought 
 to possess in all its details, and which is almost 
 indispensable to the understanding and acqui- 
 sition of civil and natural history. To facili- 
 tate your labour, I would recommend the fol- 
 lowing, as the easiest and most effectual mode 
 of acquiring this science. Begin by copying 
 maps and charts, and marking the positions of 
 the principal mountains, lakes, rivers, and ci- 
 ties, in the different nations or states of the 
 world— always taking care to separate physical 
 from political — ancient from modern, geography, 
 By this plan you will soon know, thoroughly, the 
 latitude, longitude, climate, and relative position 
 of the different countries and places on the earth ; 
 and when you have made some progress in draw- 
 ing, to which I shall call your attention in my next, 
 you will find this practice of copying rather an 
 amusement than a toil. After you have entered 
 upon your historical course, you will be enabled 
 to understand the cause of the solicitude I evince 
 in thus earnestly recommending this science to 
 your notice, from the facility it will afford, and the 
 trouble and time it will save you, in the prosecu= 
 tion of your historical studies* 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER V. 
 
 ON DRAWING, PAINTING, ARCHITECTURE, ANI) 
 MUSIC, 
 
 My Dear Son. 
 
 I will now proceed to point out to you what 
 I conceive to be a necessary sequel to your math- 
 ematical and physiological researches, and what, 
 I doubt not, you will deem a relaxation from the 
 labour of mind you have hitherto found it requi- 
 site to emyloy. The art of drawing is connect- 
 ed with mathematics, and highly useful in geo- 
 graphy, natural history, and the arts. It will en- 
 able you, with great ease to sketch a plan, an an- 
 imal, a plant, the face of a country, and the lines 
 of a landscape ; and thus to convey a more accu- 
 rate and definite idea of these objects than any you 
 could communicate by mere verbal description. 
 When you have acquired the ability, the habit of 
 sketching and copying maps will make you bet- 
 ter and sooner acquainted with physical geogra- 
 phy than any other plan you can adopt ; because 
 it will thus become an object of sense, and, by 
 tracing, for some time, the outlines of countries 3 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 77 
 
 and delineating the principal places of the world, 
 such as rivers, mountains, cities, &c. and noting 
 their latitude and longitude, it will be so strong- 
 ly imprinted on the memory, that no time will be 
 able to efface the impression. The knowledge of 
 drawing requires a partial acquaintance, at least, 
 with anatomy,* perspective, and the theory of 
 proportions. These you may attain in a short 
 time ; because your previous studies have given 
 you some knowledge of the two latter, and, with 
 the former, you may soon be acquainted. Un- 
 der a good instructer, drawing will be neither a 
 tedious nor an arduous employment. And 
 when you have attained some facility in it, you 
 will soon experience, in addition to the other ad- 
 vantages I have glanced at, its power in giving 
 steadiness to the hand and correctness to the eye, 
 and in heightening your relish for what is beautiful 
 and exquisite, both in art ar,d nature. In the art 
 of drawing you will perceive the utility and ap- 
 plication of your mathematical studies, especial- 
 ly that of optics and perspective, not only in the 
 
 * " A general knowledge of the interior of the human body, 
 says M. A. Jullien, no man ought to be a stranger to— Anato- 
 my will, at once, reveal to him the immensity of that power who 
 has created every thing, and the fragility of that feeble creature 
 who appears to be called to crawl and to reign upon the earth.-' 
 Read Bichat's Anatomy, and Blumenbach's Comparative 
 Anatomy. 
 
 G 2 
 
78 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 formation of various lines and figures, but in the 
 system of analysis it has taught you. "Un bon des- 
 einateur," says M. Lancelin, " est, son genre, un 
 excellent analyste."* Because in this, as in them, 
 you proceed from the more simple to the more 
 complex, from objects the most easy, to those the 
 most difficult; and, while thus employed, your 
 hand acquires an ease and steadiness of motion, 
 and your eye a quickness and accuracy of vision 
 that will be of no small service to you, even in 
 common life.t When you have acquired the art 
 of drawing with sufficient precision and delicacj r , 
 
 * Introduction a P Analyse des Sciences. 
 
 t Drawing, says Lancelin, above quoted, who has passed a 
 very high encomium upon this art, traces not only the image of 
 all that exists, but also of all that may exist — it is at once the 
 language of nature, of intelligence, and of imagination. The 
 importance of drawing or design, in my eyes, is such, that it ap- 
 pears to me one might confine the education of early youth 
 to the acquisition of this accomplishment, which I regard as an 
 introduction necessary to all conditions, besides its being, to all 
 ages of life, a very extended and fruitful source of amusement 
 and pleasure — an object of relaxation — a charming occupation 
 and one of the fundamental articles of all good education, pub- 
 lic or private. Government, anxious to multiply and extend the 
 powers of the human mind, as well as the elements of good taste, 
 could n a do better than to increase public schools for drawing^ 
 in order to furnish to their citizens the means of instruction in 
 an art which is obviously one of the most beautiful and the most 
 certain instruments of our knowledge. 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 79 
 
 and have, thus habituated yourself to the imita- 
 tion of nature in her genera! outlines, you may 
 proceed to follow her, in her more minute and va- 
 ried beauties, and to give life, expression, and co- 
 lour, to what you have been previously learning 
 merely to delineate. The union between draw- 
 ing and painting is so very intimate, that the one 
 cannot be known without a desire to possess the 
 other. They are denominated, with truth, sis- 
 ter arts, for both are alike imitative, and both 
 nearly of the same remote antiquity. 
 
 " The painter, says Ammonius, may design the 
 outlines and proportions of a man, but it is by co- 
 louring that he brings it to represent a Socrates, 
 or a Plato." The effect of colouring in nature is 
 felt by every animated being ; it gives delight to 
 the eye, and beauty to the countenance. Nature, 
 the prototype of the painter, always touches the 
 productions of her pencil with the richest, most 
 delicate, and lovely tints, and dashes over the un- 
 dulating and graceful outlines she sketches, the 
 magic splendour and radiant beauty of her hues. 
 The art of painting is intended to imitate nature, 
 in all her charms, and for this purpose, it employs 
 the colours she uses, and the lines and figures in 
 which she delights. Painting, my dear son, is not 
 less useful than drawing, and, certainly, not less 
 
80 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 amusing and agreeable. It is an accomplishment 
 that has been admired in all ages, and will con- 
 tinue to be admired, as long as the mind is sus- 
 ceptible of pleasure from what is excellent in art, 
 or beautiful in nature. It will enable you to con- 
 vey a correct idea of what you have seen and 
 what you cannot otherwise describe : " it pours 
 ideas into our minds ; words only drop them." 
 It is a universal language which is understood by 
 every one, and with which every one is charmed 
 and delighted. In common life, it is useful by 
 enabling us to preserve the likenesses of our rela- 
 tions and friends : in the sciences, by furnishing 
 us with the figures, colours, and shapes of animals, 
 plants, minerals, and other objects or phenomena 
 of nature ; and by supplying the architect with 
 models, and the surgeon and physcian with the 
 fine forms and delicate texture of the human 
 body. In short there is scarcely any trade, or pro- 
 fession in society, to which it does not yield some 
 advantage and improvement. 
 
 You will see, as you advance, that, of this art, 
 the prominent feature is colouring ; though that 
 feature is merely mechanical, and not of very dif- 
 ficult acquirement : but it is by colouring that this 
 is distinguished from the other imitative arts with 
 which it has, in common, composition, imitation. 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 81 
 
 design, and expression ; but colouring constitutes 
 its principal and richest ornament, and is, indeed, 
 the soul of beauty.* Of colouring, the leading 
 objects are, truth, force, keeping, and harmony ; 
 the fine effects of which you may immediately 
 perceive in any masterly production of the pen- 
 cil ; yet to give these their highest degree of ex- 
 cellence, you must make yourself acquainted with 
 the clear obscure, (chiaro-scuro,) or just conduct 
 and proper arrangement of light and shade. — ■ 
 Without this, you may daub, but will never paint. 
 It is a principle, both in drawing and painting, of 
 the greatest utility and importance, and is cor- 
 rectly appreciated by every artist who aspires at 
 excellence in his profession. " The contour of the 
 illumined part," says a Greek writer,! " should 
 be blended with, and lost, in the shade, for on 
 this, joined to the advantage of colouring, depend 
 animation, tenderness, and the similitude of 
 
 * Should the most able master in design, attempt to represent 
 by that alone, a rose or grape, we should have but a faint and 
 imperfect image ; let him add to each its proper colours, we no 
 longer doubt ; we smell the rose — we touch the grape ; hence 
 the poet — 
 
 So glow'd the grape, so perfect the deceit, 
 My hand reached forward, ere I found the cheat. 
 
 Webb on Painting, 
 
 t Theages, Pathagoricus apud Stobacum. 
 
82 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 truth. 55 As imitation, however, forms the great 
 principle of this art, you must always go prepar- 
 ed with your port-folio and crayons, to record 
 every striking and beautiful object in nature, and 
 every new fold of drapery, or graceful attitude of 
 body, you meet with, that you may know how to 
 combine and unite and form a posture, at once 
 striking, splendid, and natural. 
 
 But while I thus recommend to you a know- 
 ledge of this art, I must not be understood as 
 wishing you to become a professioned artist, or 
 to get so much attached to it, as to relinquish, as 
 many have done, every other pursuit in its fa- 
 vour. I never desire to hear you say " E son 
 pittore anchio,"—-!, also, am a painter. It will 
 be sufficient that you know how to draw and 
 colour with ease and taste, such objects in na- 
 ture and art, as may strike your mind, by their 
 grace, their novelty, or their beauty. Beyond 
 this, it will be improper to advance, and short of 
 it you must not stop. 
 
 We will now proceed to architecture and mu- 
 sic, of which you may, or may not, as you please, 
 acquire some theoretical and practical know- 
 ledge. With the principles of the former, you 
 can obtain, in a short time, a very competent ac- 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. • 83 
 
 quaintance, and this will be rendered the more 
 easy, from your previous knowledge of geometry, 
 perspective, and design. On this subject 1 need 
 only recommend to you the works of Vitruvius, 
 Palladio, and a late treatise on perspective by 
 Brown; and by familiarising yourself with the 
 various proportions and the different orders and 
 styles of architecture, you will soon know as 
 much of this art as it may be necessary for you 
 to possess. 
 
 Architecture, like drawing, is said to be one of 
 the imitative, as well as fine arts ; and contains, 
 in itself, most of the elements of sublimity and 
 beauty. Its origin was rude, and its highest pos- 
 sible excellence, has not, I think, yet been attain- 
 ed. In the soft and voluptuous climate of Greece, 
 where imagination sprang into vigor, and genius 
 nurtured to maturity, by the delicious air which 
 its inhabitants breathed, and the beauties of na- 
 ture by which they were surrounded, architec- 
 ture was finally brought to its present state of 
 perfection. The Norman, Saxon, and Saracen, or 
 Gothic style, has, indeeed, been ingrafted upon 
 that of the Greeks, but, though it may add to 
 the variety of the art, and perhaps to its useful- 
 ness, it falls far short of that exquisite taste 
 and refinement which the Greek style displays. 
 
84 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 The beauty of the different orders, the nice 
 and harmonious proportions and exquisite effect 
 of that style, has never been rivalled, though 
 I still hope they may yet be surpassed. The 
 Greek style of architecture is evidently well cal- 
 culated for such a climate as that of Greece, but 
 I cannot see why it may not be so improved and 
 modified, as to be better suited to colder and 
 more intemperate latitudes. 
 
 The style of building should be adapted to the 
 situation in which it is placed, that congruity may 
 be preserved, and the harmony and contrast re- 
 main uninjured. There is an adaption in all 
 things, and I think, with St. Pierre,* that a style 
 might be introduced into the north, better suited 
 to the climate, and equally susceptible of beauty, 
 grandeur, and effect. The trunk of the pine, for 
 example, might serve as a standard of proportion 
 for the shafts of the column, and the ornaments 
 of these shafts, be the imitations of the natural and 
 staple productions of northern latitudes, such as 
 com, cotton, tobacco, hemp, &c. If the Egyp- 
 tians could take the pine as a model in the con- 
 struction of their pyramids and obelisks, and the 
 Chinese, in their rich paviliions, and even consid- 
 er it as the symbol of immortality, I see no objec- 
 
 * Harmonies of Nature, 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 86 
 
 tion to the imitation of it, in its native country, 
 nor why the pyramidal or conical should not be 
 substituted in the place of the Greek cylindrical 
 order. As to the disposition of the columns, they 
 might be grouped in conical rotundos, instead of 
 long peristyles, in the order in which the seeds of 
 the pine are arranged in their cones. " With this 
 view," says St. Pierre, " I would give a progres- 
 sive elevation to the columns in the middle of the 
 rotundo, so as to increase the extent of the per- 
 spective, the outside column being shorter and of 
 less diameter. If the peristyle be favourable to 
 coolness in a warm climate, by affording a free 
 circulation of air, the conical rotundo is equally 
 favourable to warmth in a cold climate, by con- 
 tracting it within, and by stopping the course 
 of the wind on the outside. The interor and ex- 
 terior of its vault might represent the scales, and 
 the oval form which are found so pleasant in the 
 pine cone." This, and the Greek order, how- 
 ever, might, by the exertion of a little genius, be 
 so united as to suit every latitude of the United 
 States ; and, thus, form a national style of archi- 
 tecture, better adapted to the climate than the 
 Greek alone, and equally well calculated for the 
 purposes of beauty and magnificence. But I wan- 
 der. 
 
 H 
 
8G DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 You will find when you have obtained a know- 
 ledge of this art, (in which I mean to include 
 military and naval architecture,) that the plea- 
 sure, as well as the advantage it affords, is not so 
 inconsiderable as you may suppose. The eye 
 becomes accustomed, it is true, to regularity, uni- 
 formity, and harmony of proportion ; but we are 
 so organized as to receive as much delight from 
 the perception of these, as from the richest vari- 
 ety in nature, and, I am inclined to believe, that 
 their habitual contemplation affords no little aid 
 in the formation of a well-ordered and well-regu- 
 lated mind. The harmony of proportion is as 
 agreeable to the eye, as the harmony of sounds 
 is to the ear.* 
 
 If architecture be not a source of immediate 
 advantage, it will at least be one of no small gra- 
 tification ; and, as this branch of the fine arts is 
 much admired and cultivated in the United States, 
 it would, I think, be unpardonable to be wholly 
 ignorant of its practical or theoretical principles ; 
 especially, when these principles can be attained 
 at so small an expense of time and labour. 
 
 Of music, it is not necessary to say much.— = 
 
 * Harmony, says Plato, has the same effect upon the mind 
 that exercise has upon the body. 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 87 
 
 Your taste for this art will be regulated by your 
 ear, and your love of " the concord of sweet 
 sounds." It has been asserted by the great bard 
 of nature, that 
 
 " He who has not music in himself, 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; 
 The motions of his spirits are dull as night, 
 And his affections dark as Erebus." 
 
 It is, indeed, rare to meet, in the whole circle 
 of human life, with an individual whose organiza- 
 tion is so defective as not to be excited by the 
 power of music, or whose feelings are so torpid 
 and brutalized, as to be wholly indifferent to its 
 enchanting operation. It would appear impossi* 
 ble to resist the emotions of pleasure, and some- 
 times of extacy and rapture, its dulcet and har- 
 monious tones are calculated to produce, and that 
 man is to be pitied, rather than despised, who can 
 remain frigid and motionless in a fine flood of me- 
 lody, or amidst a fall and overwhelmning gush of 
 delicious sounds. They come not o'er his ear, 
 
 like the sweet south, 
 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving odour. 
 
 And the poet may, with propriety and truth, ex- 
 claim, " Hie niger est, hunc tu caveto," 
 
 But to be pleased with music, and to be a mu- 
 
88 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 sician, are two distinct and different considera- 
 tions, though both are bottomed on the same 
 principle, a susceptibility of pleasure, from the 
 combinations of harmony and melody. On the 
 power of music to excite our sympathies, and to 
 rouse or tranquillize our affections and passions, 
 I deem it superfluous to dwell : you have, I know, 
 already felt this power, and it has been much 
 better, and more beautifully, illustrated in Dry- 
 den's Alexander's Feast, and by almost every 
 poet of ancient and modern times, than I could 
 presume to do it: nor is it of any great conse- 
 quence to dispute whether this be an imitative 
 art, or not, provided we feel its power and can 
 understand its principles. The theory of music, 
 which, if not an imitative, is, at least, one of the 
 line and liberal arts, is connected with natural 
 philosophy, and bottomed on the doctrine of 
 sounds, produced by the vibratory, or undulatory 
 motion of the air. 
 
 To this subject I wish you to pay some atten- 
 tion 5 for, if you should desire neither to prac- 
 tice nor compose, it will not, at all events, be 
 lime and information thrown away. But to be 
 able to perform on some musical instrument, and 
 occasionally to relieve the toil of study, and the 
 gloom of solitude ; and to soften the asperities 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 89 
 
 and lessen the miseries of life, must be an accom- 
 plishment you cannot but feel anxious to possess; 
 and as Beattie* very justly remarks, " nothing 
 but practice will ever give that quickness to the 
 ear which is necessary to enable one to enter, 
 with adequate satisfaction, or rat'onal dislike, into, 
 the merits or demerits of a musical perform- 
 ance." I am not at all surprized that Chester- 
 field should have been so much opposed to his 
 son obtaining a practical knowledge of music, be- 
 cause his aim seems to have been to drill and 
 mould him into a modern fine gentleman, gar- 
 nished out with all the external polish and 
 brilliancy of manners he was capable of acquir- 
 ing, while his heart remained void of every 
 thing, but the frigidity and deceitfulness of that 
 school 'of politeness to which he wished him 
 to belong. How music canhave the effect, as 
 he asserts, of putting " a gentleman in a very 
 frivolous and contemptible light," I cannot ea- 
 sily conceive. It certainly is not in my mind 
 either very contemptible, or very frivolous, to 
 be able to relish the finest combinations of 
 sounds, or to be capable of resorting in a leisure 
 hour to an amusement which is so well calcula- 
 ted to beget emotions of pleasure, and so suited 
 to tranquillize the agitations of the mind, and to 
 
 * Beattie's Essays. 
 
 H 2 
 
90 DRAWING, PAINTING, 
 
 soften the ruggedness of our nature. Much grea- 
 ter men than Chesterfield — I mean Polybius, Pla- 
 to, Aristotle, Plutarch, Quinctillian, and though 
 last, not least, Montesquieu himself, have given 
 their suffrage in favour of this exquisite art, and 
 have praised it, as an efficient instrument of mo- 
 ral and political discipline, which not only re- 
 fines the manners, but smooths the rough paths 
 of science and of labour. Had 1 not felt its 
 power, and experienced its utility, I should have 
 thought it unnecessary to recommend it, as a part 
 of the system of education I wish you to pur- 
 sue, and shall not now press it upon you, if 
 your ear or your tase should forbid its attain- 
 ment ; but this is not the case, and your incli- 
 nation will lead you to acquire it. The instru- 
 ments on which I should be pleased to see you 
 perform, with facility and skill, are the flute, 
 clariooett, and violin, or either of them. Of these, 
 the two first are very simple and soon mastered, 
 but the latter is more difficult, because it is not 
 so perfect, and will require more time, attention, 
 and practice. A few lessons from a skilful teach- 
 er, will be sufficient to give you a competent 
 knowledge of this branch of the art, in which you 
 will continue to improve, as you continue to prac- 
 tice; and, as to the theory, I need only refer you 
 to Rousseau and D'Alembert, who have written 
 
ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 91 
 
 on this subject with their usual ability and elo- 
 quence, and who will give you all the information 
 you may desire. But, before I conclude, I would 
 suggest to you the propriety, if your voice be tol- 
 erable, of taking some lessons in vocal music al- 
 so, that you may have it in your power, when re 
 quested, to accompany a singer, and to join in the 
 vocal part of the service of your God with bene- 
 fit to yourself and ; pleasure to others. 
 
 The fine arts of which I have spoken in this 
 letter, may be united to graver studies, and pur- 
 sued in connexion with natural philosophy or 
 civil history. By devoting one hour a day to 
 each, your progress will be rapid, and you will, 
 in a short time, attain that point of excellence in, 
 and that degree of acquaintance with, them ? 
 which it may be desirable for you to possess. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER VI 
 
 ON A COURSE OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 You have now reached that degree of 
 literary and scientific knowledge, which will qua- 
 lify you to enter upon a regular course of histori- 
 cal reading. Your preparatory attainments are 
 such as will enable you to derive great benefit, 
 as well as much satisfaction, from the study you 
 are about to commence 5 and, though you have 
 already acquired some knowledge of ancient his- 
 tory, while engaged in learning the Greek and 
 Latin languages, you must not think that suffi- 
 cient, of itself, to preclude the necessity of fur- 
 ther research, or of a more extended acquaintance 
 with the subject. It is necessary to contemplate 
 history with the eye and spirit of philosophy ; to 
 view it as a whole, in all its connexions ; to 
 trace effects from their causes, and to follow the 
 progress of nations, as of men, through all their 
 revolutions and changes ; from baibarism to re- 
 finement, from their origin to their end. The 
 plan recommended by D'Alembert, is there- 
 
ANCIENT HISTORY. 93 
 
 fore, injudicious and improper ; because he wish- 
 es the effects to be studied, before the causes are 
 known, and to commence with modern and end 
 with ancient history. A retrogression of this 
 kind is painful, because it is contrary to nature, 
 and, in a great degree useless, because we lose 
 that link in the chain of events, which is necessa- 
 ry to keep up the connexion. The study of an- 
 cient history may not, perhaps, be so useful to 
 the statesman, but, to the philosopher and the 
 christian, it is equally important with that of mo- 
 dern history ; and though the early annals of almost 
 every nation, be blended with, and in a great de- 
 gree, buried in fiction and fable ; yet it must be 
 conceded, that it is sometimes gratifying, if not 
 important, to be acquainted with them. In com- 
 mencing this interesting science, I would ad- 
 vise you to have recourse to a well digested and 
 rapid outline of universal history, from the ear- 
 liest to the latest times, that you may have a 
 close view and a just comprehension of the whole 
 chain of "events ; the rise and fall, and the con- 
 nexion, dependence, and revolutions of nations : 
 and I know of nothing so short, and at the same 
 time so complete, on this head, as Le Sage's ge- 
 neral picture of universal ancient history, con- 
 tained in one sheet; which you should read and 
 read again, till you have a perfect conception. 
 
94 COURSE OF 
 
 and distinct recollection of the whole subject; 
 thus, with great ingenuity, spread before the eye, 
 in the manner of a geographical map. Having 
 mastered this, you may then take up the modern 
 compilers of general history, of whom, perhaps, 
 the best are Milot and Rollin ; while, at the same 
 time, you pay the strictest attention to chronolo- 
 gy and geography. You will soon discover the 
 Impossibility, and, indeed, the absolute useless- 
 ness of reading the very numerous historical 
 works with which the world is at present filled.— 
 The mind would sink under the weight and pres- 
 sure of such a mass, and the memory, however 
 tenacious and vigorous, could not retain but a 
 small portion of what had been committed to its 
 keeping. It has been very justly remarked by 
 Milot, that, " human genius is too limited to be 
 able to perceive, distinctly, a vast multitude of 
 objects, when confounded together, and that to 
 grasp at more than we can possibly retain, is the 
 way to know nothing, or to know every thing 
 imperfectly." An attention, therefore, to the 
 following general rules, while engaged in the stu- 
 dy of history, will be of great importance in fa- 
 cilitating your progress, and rendering your path 
 more smooth, accessible, and pleasant. 
 
 First, Confine yourself, as far as may be prae- 
 icable, to what is important. 
 
ANCIENT. HISTORY. do 
 
 Secondly. Never remain satisfied until you 
 have obtained the truth, if within your reach. 
 
 Thirdly, Be neither too sceptical, nortoo cre- 
 dulous in your investigations. 
 
 Fourthly* Always examine for yourself, and 
 depend on no authority too implicitly. Your 
 knowledge of logic and mathematics will be of 
 great aid to you in this. 
 
 Fifthly. Avoid too subtile and minute en- 
 quiries, which demand too much time, and are of 
 no great moment at last : and, 
 
 Sixthly, endeavour to acquire and retain only 
 that which is useful and necessary ; such as a 
 knowledge of the virtues and vices, the genius 
 and character, the laws and customs, the consti- 
 tution and policy, the literature and science of 
 nations, and the causes which contributed to their 
 greatness, and which led to their destruction. 
 
 An attention to these rules will guide you in 
 the march you are now to make, and render 
 whatever you read highly useful and interesting. 
 In relation to chronology, I think it more proper 
 that you should study it, in connexion with histo- 
 
96 course or 
 
 ry, than as a separate branch of knowledge.* De« 
 pending, as it does, wholly upon memory, you 
 will see the necessity of observing a regular 
 order in your dates, that they may be more easi- 
 ly acquired and remembered. Chronological, or 
 historical charts, such as Priestley's and the atlas 
 of Le Sage, or Lavoisne, are, therefore, the best ;•• 
 as they present to the eye all the events and cha- 
 racters of each period in one line, and almost at 
 one view, and thus fix them more permanently up- 
 on the memory. After you have read Milot and 
 Rollin, with proper care, you should take up the 
 Bible, into which, I know, you have already dip- 
 ped, but which you must now examine more dili- 
 gently; because it is the oldest historical record 
 extant, and gives an account of the earliest, and, 
 perhaps, the most interesting periods of the 
 world. Abstractedly from the religion it incul- 
 cates, and to which we are bound to pay the high- 
 
 * A Russian writer, Count Potoki, has attempted to elevate 
 Chronology to the rank of a science, in a work entitled, 
 " Principes de Chronologie pour les temps anterieurs aux 
 Olympiades," which may be consulted with advantage. De- 
 leuze is of opinion, that the best method of studying chronolo- 
 gy, unconnected with history, is to set down the dates of the 
 most important epochs, in regular order, on a slip of paper, 
 and commit them to memory. " The knowledge of the rest," 
 he observes, " will be the fruit of order, and acquired without 
 our thinking of it.'? 
 
ANCIENT HISTORY. 97 
 
 est respect and deference, it contains a body of 
 history, the authenticity of which has been con- 
 firmed by geological investigations, the traditions 
 of other countries, and the progress of civiliza- 
 tion ; and which, from the simplicity of its style, 
 the excellence and sublimity of its sentiments, 
 and its rich and splendid poetical images, cannot 
 but be read with the deepest interest and satis- 
 faction. For a further account of the Jewish 
 and other oriental nations, you may consult Jose- 
 phus, Calmet's Scripture Illustrated, and Sanconi- 
 atho's Phoenician History ; but next to the sacred 
 volume 1 have mentioned above, Herodotus stands 
 first in rank, if not in antiquity. His history con- 
 tains a narrative of all that he knew concern- 
 ing the Lydians, Ionians, Lycians, Egyptians, 
 Persians, Greeks, and Macedonians, and embra- 
 ces a period of near 234 years, terminating about 
 479 years before the birth of Christ. As it will 
 be tedious and unnecessary to dwell on the con- 
 tents and merits of each historian I may name, I 
 shall briefly direct your attention to those which 
 follow, and, at the same time, suggest the pro- 
 priety of reading them in the order in which 
 they are given. After Herodotus must suc- 
 ceed Thucydides, and to Herodotus and Thucy- 
 dides, you should occasionally join Justin, Corne- 
 lius Nepos, Plutarch, and Diodorus Siculus, who 
 I 
 
98 COURSE QF 
 
 enlarge on, and corroborate, the facts those histo- 
 rians furnish. You will see when they touch on 
 the same subject, and delineate the same charac- 
 ters ; and when they do this, it will be proper to 
 examine them together. To Thucydides, must 
 succeed Xenophon's History of Greece and Ex- 
 pedition of Cyrus, and the Histories of Greece 
 and Persia by Diodorus Siculus , together with 
 Arrian and Quintus Curtius. You may then read 
 the modern compilations of Mitford or Gillies,* 
 Potter's Grecian Antiquities, and the travels of 
 Anacharsis by Barthelemy. An attentive perusal 
 of these writers, will give you a competent know- 
 ledge, not only of that highly interesting, and 
 once beautiful country, but of the whole world in 
 those ages. From Greece, you should proceed 
 to Rome, and while reading the histories of that 
 country, you will necessarily become acquainted, 
 from the connexion which existed beween it, and 
 the other nations of the world, with such of the 
 memorable events and distinguished characters 
 of those nations as have been preserved and 
 transmitted to us. In commencing the Roman 
 history, 1 would again recommend to you some 
 well-written epitome, such as Florus, Eutropius, 
 or Goldsmith's Rome, accompanied with La- 
 voisne's atlas, before you proceed to the more am- 
 
 * Mitford and Gillies' History of Greece. 
 
ANCIENT HISTORY. 99 
 
 pie and extended histories of that country. When 
 you have made yourself sufficiently acquainted 
 with these, you may proceed to the regular and 
 consecutive perusal of the following authors, 
 namely: Dionysius Halicarnassus, Livy, Polybius, 
 Plutarch, Appian, Sallust, Caesar, Dion. Cassius, 
 Suetonius, Paterculus, Tacitus, Herodian, Aure- 
 lius Victor, and, if you please, what have been 
 called the Scriptores Romani, viz : Zozimus, Jo- 
 mandes, Ammianus Marcillinus, Procopius, Aga- 
 thias, and the Byzantine historians ; to which may 
 be added, Hook's Roman History, Crevier's Ro- 
 man Emperors, the Ancient Universal History, 
 perhaps one of the finest bodies of history in the 
 world ; Adams' Roman Antiquities, and Prlont- 
 faucou's Antiquities Explained, which you need 
 only consult occasionally. All the classical wri- 
 ters I have named, should be read in connexion 
 with D'Anville's Ancient Geography, Grenet's 
 Atlas Portatif, Strabo, and Pausanias. 
 
 In studying the history of Rome, you must not 
 neglect to make yourself well acquainted with 
 the Institutes of Justinian, which will not only 
 enable you more perfectly to understand the do- 
 mestic policy of that people, but will be of great 
 and essential service to you, both as a lawyer 
 and a statesman. A knowledge of coins and me- 
 dals must also be attained, because it greatly fa= 
 
100 
 
 COURSE OF 
 
 eilitates the acquisition of history, and illustrates 
 the darkness and obscurity which sometimes en- 
 velope the events, dates, and geographical posi- 
 tions of ancient nations, and because it is also 
 very important in the study of natural history, 
 poetry, painting, sculpture, and architecture.— 
 For this purpose, you need only consult Addison 
 on the usefulness of ancient medals; a small work 
 entitled an " Essay on Medals," and an introduc- 
 tion to the knowledge of medals, by D. Jennings, 
 and whatever collections of ancient coins and 
 medals you may meet with. You will be pleased 
 always to bear in mind, that the mere narrative 
 of events, however eloquently told, is not all you 
 must attend to in the prosecution of jour histori- 
 cal studies. Higher and more important ends 
 should be kept in view, namely, utility and im- 
 provement; and you must endeavour to blend, 
 with the narrative of" olden times," an acquaint- 
 ance with the state of the sciences and arts, the 
 political, moral, and religious opinions ; the com- 
 merce and agriculture; and the manners, customs, 
 and usages of different epochs. With this view, 
 you will see the propriety of joining to the histo- 
 rians, from time to time, the orators, philoso- 
 phers, and poets of antiquity, who will agreeably 
 supply you with the information you desire, and, 
 at the same time, as I have already observed, im- 
 
ANCIENT HISTORY. 1Q1 
 
 prove your taste, enlarge your understanding, and 
 invigorate your fancy. 
 
 Having completed the first great division of 
 history, viz: that of ancient times, you must pro- 
 ceed to the history of the middle ages, which em- 
 braces a period of ten centuries, extending from 
 the fall of the Roman Empire, in the west, to the 
 discovery of the new world, by Columbus. A 
 work has recently appeared, which, though it be 
 in fact, merely an abridgment, contains almost 
 every thing necessary to be known of those dark, 
 but interesting periods of the world: I mean 
 Hallam's View of the state of Europe, which 
 you will read with care. To this, may be join- 
 ed, Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of 
 the Roman Empire, which will be sufficient, till 
 you commence your course of modern history ; 
 for the most of the historians of this portion of 
 time, go back to the origin of the nations whose 
 history they give, and furnish no incomplete ac- 
 counts of the middle ages of the world. I have 
 already mentioned, en passant, some of the mo- 
 dern writers of ancient history, and on ancient 
 times, and to these, I would further add, Middle- 
 ton^ Life of Cicero, Russell's Ancient Europe, 
 Vertot's Revolutions, Ferguson's Rome, and Le 
 Beau's Historie du Bas Empire. 
 
 Adieu. 
 I 2 
 
LETTER VII. 
 
 ON A COURSE OF MODERN HISTORY. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 You desire me now to give you such di-' 
 rections as may be necessary in the further pro- 
 secution of your historical studies, and inform 
 me you have pursued, with great benefit, the 
 course previously recommended to you, in rela- 
 tion to the manner of reading ancient history. — 
 I am not a little gratified at the progress you 
 have'made, and the number of historians you 
 have read, both in the original and in transla- 
 tion. And it affords, in addition, no inconsidera- 
 ble pleasure, to be told that you derived more 
 satisfaction from the perusal of the Bible, than 
 from that of any other work of antiquity, how- 
 ever distinguished for its elegance, sententious- 
 ness, and beauty. It affords me pleasure, because 
 it accords with the opinion I have long entertain- 
 ed, and satisfies me that your moral taste and 
 sentiments have not yet been vitiated. But in 
 our opinion of the excellence of this book, we 
 are not alone : some of the greatest men the 
 
MODERN HISTORY. 103 
 
 world has produced, have given this sacred vo- 
 lume a decided preference, in all that constitutes 
 sublimity, morality, history, and eloquence ; and, 
 I will venture to say, that no mind, not wholly 
 vitiated, can rise from the contemplation of the 
 pure morality it inculcates, without finding itself 
 better informed, and more intensely inspired with 
 the love of virtue and of God. 
 
 Your short, but satisfactory remarks on the va- 
 rious ancient historians you have read, are high- 
 ly gratifying to me, as they manifest a laborious 
 attention and a fine taste, for what is admirable 
 in composition, and excellent in morals, that will 
 add much to your advantage in the prosecution 
 of your subsequent studies. Of all the profane 
 historians you have read, I agree with you, my 
 dear son, in thinking that Thucydides, Polybius, 
 Livy, and Tacitus, are the most eloquent, judi- 
 cious, and well informed. All nations have unit- 
 ed in extolling their merits, and admiring their 
 genius ; and it is impossible to study them with- 
 out having the mind, in no ordinary degree, en- 
 larged and improved. Thucydides has been 
 proposed by Longinus, as a model of grandeur 
 and elevation in the composition of history, and, 
 if we properly consider the powers he has dis- 
 covered in the work he has written, we cannot 
 
104 COURSE OF 
 
 but admit his pretensions, and coincide in judg- 
 ment with the able critic I have just mentioned. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to inform you, so great 
 was the consideration in which he was held by 
 the Greeks, that Demosthenes is said to have 
 transcribed him several times, in order to habitu- 
 ate himself to the rapidity of his conceptions, and 
 to catch the close and vigorous manner in which 
 he wrote. Indeed, you will find almost every 
 word he employs, a sentence, and every sentence 
 replete with energy and thought. Of Polvbius, 
 I cannot speak so highly ; he is often loose in 
 the structure of his sentences, and careless and 
 negligent in the choice of his words : but in the 
 importance of his matter, and the extent and 
 comprehension of his views, he is superior to 
 Thucvdides, and better calculated to afford in* 
 struction to the politician and the statesman. 
 
 You cannot think too favourably of the Roman 
 historians, Livy and Tacitus. Livv is peculiar- 
 ly happy in narration — his pictures are drawn by 
 the hand of a master ; his colouring is delicately, 
 though richly laid on, and his contrasts finely 
 conceived and happily executed. He is at once 
 eloquent, graceful, and majestic ; moving forward 
 with a loftiness that astonishes, and a sweetness 
 
MODERN HISTORY, 105 
 
 and fluency that never fail to captivate and 
 charm. There is a plainness in the midst of his 
 majesty, which leads us to believe he is destitute 
 of art, though he possesses a great deal of it; but 
 this pleases us the more, because it is not seen, 
 and because it is wholly free from the appearance 
 of affectation. The faults of Livy's style are dif- 
 fusiveness, want of vigour, and occasional obscu- 
 rity ; and, as an historian, he has been charged 
 with negligence in the investigation of his facts, 
 too much partiality in the details he has given, 
 and too strong a love for what was marvellous 
 and impossible. 
 
 We now approach the oraculous Tacitus — a 
 wTiter as distinguished for his political, as his 
 historical excellence, and whom, it is impossible 
 to read, without being edified and delighted : 
 I prefer him before all the Greek and Roman 
 historians 1 have mentioned, and would recom- 
 mend him to you, in a particular manner, as 
 a writer whose merits you should study, and 
 whose excellences you should endeavour to imi- 
 tate. Tacitus seems to have had a proper con- 
 ception of the true character and legitimate ob- 
 jects of history, and though the events which he 
 has chosen to record, are marked with great cor- 
 ruption and iniquity, he neither advances what 
 
106 COURSE OF 
 
 is false, nor suppresses what is true ; but with an 
 impartiality that must excite our admiration, he 
 details the actions of men, without magnifying 
 their turpitude, or depreciating their merits. His 
 mind was richly fraught with every species of in- 
 formation, necessary to constitute an able and 
 eloquent historian: he was well acquainted with 
 the different modes of government then existing ; 
 versed in the secret policy of states, and had an 
 intimate knowledge of mankind. " In him," 
 says Blackwall,* " the statesman brightens the 
 scholar, and the consul improves and elevates 
 the historian." His deductions are maxims, be- 
 cause they are founded on the nature of truth, 
 and drawn from an acquaintance with the mo- 
 tives and actions of men. He was as much of an 
 orator, as an historian ; his images are striking, 
 and his delineations admirable; we feel the emo- 
 tions he wishes to communicate, and the passions 
 he intends to excite : in short, every description 
 he gives you, is a picture, and every picture is 
 complete. But Tacitus had his faults—- his de- 
 scriptions are sometimes too minute, and his 
 style often too figurative and ambitious. He is 
 rather nure inclined to paint the vices than the 
 virtues of our nature ; to exhibit the gloomy and 
 
 * Blackwail's Introduction to the Classics. 
 
MODERN HISTORY. 107 
 
 sombrous, rather than the gay and brilliant tints 
 of the picture he presents. Yet still his magic 
 pencil gives colour, and form, and shape, to eve- 
 ry thing it touches ; and every thing he touches, 
 springs like Venus from the ocean, arrayed in 
 beauty, and filled with attraction. The orator 
 will read him with delight, and the philosopher 
 with admiration, for the history of Tacitus is, 
 indeed, " Philosophy teaching by example." 
 
 Your admiration of Plutarch, is not in the least 
 surprising : he has had his admirers in all ages, 
 and is likely to have them as long as learning is 
 esteemed, and integrity beloved. The very na- 
 ture of his work, exclusive of its intrinsic merits, 
 is such as to charm and edify almost every read- 
 er. We contemplate, at almost every period of 
 life, the lives of the poets, the orators, the philo- 
 sophers, and heroes of antiquity, through a me- 
 dium so clear and so transparent, that our plea- 
 sure increases as we advance, and we quit them 
 with a regret that he did not leave us more. It 
 is the nature of this species of composition, to 
 please : we are anxious to know every thing 
 that concerns those whose talents, and virtues, 
 and heroism, have excited our admiration, and 
 filled the world with their fame. The more we 
 know of them, the more we are interested, and 
 
108 COURSE OF 
 
 when we meet with their biographies, sketched 
 with the ability that Plutarch displays, we peruse 
 them with avidity, and leave them with reluc- 
 tance. 
 
 The historians I have glanced at, my dear son, 
 and, also, the orators and poets of antiquity you 
 have read, I should wish you to read over and 
 over again, 
 
 " Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna." 
 
 They are models in all that is excellent in art, 
 and all that is masterly and finished in composi- 
 tion. When you have acquired a taste for their 
 beauties, and a relish for their various excellen- 
 ces, you will find your mind imbued with such 
 classical imagery, sentiment, and discrimination, 
 that you will relish, with additional zest, what- 
 ever bears the stamp of polished genius, or the 
 impress of intellectual refinement. 
 
 It is now time to take up modern history, in 
 the study of which I have only to recommend a 
 course, similar to that which you have already 
 pursued in relation to the ancient historians. 
 
 First, Read the best executed historical epi- 
 tomes, or abridgments, paying the strictest at- 
 
ilODERN HISTORV. 109 
 
 iention to order in your reading ; for the art 
 of memory is greatly aided by regularity, and, 
 indeed, without regularity, all will be confusion 
 in your mind. The best epitomes of modern 
 history with which I am acquainted, are PurYen- 
 dorf's and Milot's. These, with the historical 
 chart of Priestley, and the great atlas of Le 
 Sage, or Lavoisne, will give yon an ample 
 outline of modern history, which you may af- 
 terwards fill up, by reading those historians 
 who furnish more minute and circumstantial 
 details. The atlas of Le Sage or Lavoisne, 
 is a work so ingeniously conceived, and so 
 admirably executed, as to form in itself a body 
 of universal history, geography, and chronology, 
 which will enable you, almost at a single glance, 
 to take a wide and comprehensive, yet connected 
 survey, of the events of nations, and to pur- 
 sue, without much difficulty or labour, the 
 whole chain of facts, with their concomitant 
 dates, from the earliest to the latest periods of 
 the world. I have seen no work so well calcu- 
 lated to give you a general view of history, or 
 one that contains, in truth, so happy a combina- 
 tion of history, genealogy, chronology, and ge- 
 ography. Grey's ingenious Memoria Technica, 
 is another work which will greatly facilitate 
 the acquisition of historical facts and dates, 
 K 
 
110 COURSE OF 
 
 and which may be easily understood and re- 
 tained. To avoid confusion, and to preserve 
 the order I have suggested, I would recom- 
 mend the following division, as one that will 
 be found eminently useful. 
 
 First. Ancient history, which terminates with 
 the destruction of the Roman Empire in the west, 
 and with which you are already acquainted. 
 
 Secondly. History of the Middle Ages, em- 
 bracing a period from the above epoch, to the 
 discovery of America ; and, 
 
 Thirdly. Modern History, which comprehends 
 the modern ages, and the whole intervening 
 time, since the period of that discovery. 
 
 Of these three grand divisions of general histo- 
 ry, the most important, if not the most interest- 
 ing, is the third or last ; because it commences 
 at an era of the world, when a new order of 
 things arose, and a new chain of events began. 
 
 To this division, therefore, it is desirable you 
 should pay the utmost attention, and, with the 
 momentous and important events it embraces, 
 make yourself well acquainted. As a further 
 
MODERN HISTORY. ill 
 
 aid to your memory, and an additional facility 
 to your improvement, I should wish you to sub- 
 divide these again into other divisions ; for ex- 
 ample, to begin and end with some remarkable 
 epoch or revolution, which you will arrange into 
 separate sections, each containing — 
 
 First* The civil and military affairs of the 
 nation whose history you are reading. 
 
 Secondly. The history of its constitution, laws* 
 and government. 
 
 Thirdly* That of its learning, and learned 
 men. 
 
 Fourthly. That of its fine arts. 
 
 Fifthly. That of its commerce, agriculture, 
 and manufactures, as far as such information 
 can be obtained: and, 
 
 Sixthly. That of its manners, customs, lan- 
 guage, &c. 
 
 This arrangement can be preserved, by means 
 of a common place book, into which you may 
 enter the most remarkable events, and what 
 
112 COURSE OF 
 
 ever relates to these subdivisions, under their 
 respective heads. After having formed this ar- 
 rangement, and made these preparations, you 
 may proceed to the modern part of the uni- 
 versal history of which I have spoken, or that by 
 Mavor, Muller, or Milot, which will give you a 
 general, though rapid, survey of the events of the 
 modern world, and make you well enough ac- 
 quainted with the histories of the different na- 
 tions of Asia. The connexion existing between 
 the ancient and middle ages, you have already 
 preserved, and have, at the same time, acquir- 
 ed a pretty correct knowledge of the origin and 
 early events of those nations, now so conspicu- 
 ous in the world, by the perusal of Hallam's - 
 History of the Middle Ages, and Gibbon's De- 
 cline and Fall of the Roman Empire. But, in 
 relation to the latter, I must not neglect to avail 
 myself of this opportunity of putting you on 
 your guard against the sly sarcasms, bitter irony, 
 and dangerous insinuations, in which he occa- 
 sionally indulges against theChristian Religion. 
 
 The style and manner of Gibbon, are very 
 fascinating and attractive to a youthful mind, 
 which is too apt to be misled by richness of 
 fancy and splendour of diction. To his style, 
 he has paid, perhaps, too much attention ; it in- 
 
MODERN HISTORY. 113 
 
 deed abounds " in elegancies of all sorts," and 
 is always distinguished by precision and strength, 
 harmony and richness. His mind possessed an 
 elegant abstraction — his remarks are solid, yet 
 sprightly ; just, yet vivacious ; and his learning, 
 research, ingenuity, and liberality, are such, 
 that we feel it impossible to withhold our admi- 
 ration, and are constrained to agree with Dr. 
 Robertson, in thinking that there is no example, 
 in any age or nation, of such a vast body of 
 valuble and elegant information, communicated 
 by a single individual. From Gibbon, you will 
 proceed to the history of modern Europe, by 
 Russell, Bigland's Sketch of the history of Eu- 
 rope, from 1783; and thence to the more copi- 
 ous and extended histories of the different mo- 
 dern nations, beginning with that of Italy, and 
 proceeding to those of France,* Germany, 
 Spain, Russia, and Great Britain ; and, finally, 
 closing with the history of your own country. 
 Among the historians of Great Britain, I con- 
 ceive it almost useless to name Hume and Ro- 
 bertson, because you must already be acquaint- 
 ed with their merits and their fame ; but to 
 
 * Gilford's History of France ; Naylor's History of Ger- 
 many ; Bigland's History of Spain, and Ramsay's Universal 
 History, may be read in addition to the last histories of those 
 nations. 
 
 K 2 
 
 
114 COURSE OP 
 
 Hume's England, and Robertson's Charles V., I 
 should wish you, as you intend to adopt the pro- 
 fession of the law, to pay particular attention. 
 These able and elegant historians, have given a 
 very ample and satisfactory account of the feudal 
 system, a branch of knowledge indispensable to 
 the legal student, as it is the parent and founda- 
 tion of almost all the law that exists, both in 
 this country and England, in relation to real ] 
 property. But, in addition to this information, 
 so important and useful to a lawyer, you will find 
 in them a spirit of philosophy, a chastity and 
 elegance of style, and a justness and depth of 
 observation, which I .should be delighted to see 
 you acquire, and by which I know you will be 
 benefited. In the wide range of general his- 
 tory I have pointed out for your pursuit, I must 
 not omit to mention the historians of particular 
 periods or reigns, and the memoirs and biogra- 
 phies of illustrious men, who have distinguished 
 themselves by their talent, their knowledge, their 
 magnanimity, or their patriotism. 
 
 This source of information will be enlarged, 
 and its acquisition facilitated, by your knowledge 
 of the Italian, Spanish, and French languages, 
 which, you tell me, you now begin to read with 
 considerable ease. These will open to you an 
 
MODERN HISTORY. 115 
 
 extensive and variegated field of instruction and 
 entertainment, and enable you, with greater sa- 
 tisfaction and advantage, to peruse the best and 
 most classical writers of foreign nations, in their 
 native tongues. In the Italian, you will find 
 some historians who may very properly be placed 
 in the first rank. These are, Guiceiardini, Sis- 
 mondi, Davila, Bentivoglio, Father Paul, Gian- 
 none, and Machiavel. In the Spanish, I know 
 of none, except Mariana, and De Solis, that 
 merit to be classed among historians; but Spain 
 has not produced many writers of great merit in 
 any department of literature, except the drama, 
 and fictitious history, and I question whether 
 even her best historians can lay claim to a 
 very high meed of praise, in historical writ- 
 ing. France, however, stands pre-eminent in 
 compositions of all kinds, from the gravity of 
 philosophy, to the sprightliness and brilliancy 
 of u divine poesy.' 5 In memoirs, especially, the 
 French writers excel ; but of these, it will be 
 proper to read the best only, and, I think, none 
 can be superior to those of Sully and the Cardi- 
 nal De Retz. From them you will derive, not 
 only much historical information, but a great 
 deal of amusement and general instruction. — 
 They will let you into the secrets and intrigues 
 of cabinets, the policy of governments, and the 
 
116 COURSE OP 
 
 nature of man, in his highest state of refinement, 
 and placed amidst the splendour and corruption, 
 and polish, of courts. Connected with a course 
 of general history, are the histories of particular 
 reigns, and the lives of public men. Of these, 
 the most excellent are, Robertson's Charles V., 
 Philip de Comines, Thuanus, Rosco's Leo X., 
 and Lorenzo De Medicis ; Sommerville's Reign 
 of Queen Anne, Belsham's George I., II., and 
 III. ; Watson's Philip II. and III.; Took's Ca- 
 therine II., Voltaire's Louis XIV., Charles 
 XIL, and Peter the Great ; Miss Aikin's Eliza- 
 beth, and James I.; Harris' Lives of James, 
 the two Charles's, and Cromwell ; and Segur's 
 Frederick and William II. These should be 
 read in connexion with the history of the coun- 
 try you are studying. But the history of Eng- 
 land being blended with that of our own coun- 
 try, and the nations themselves intimately con- 
 nected by a similarity of laws, language, usages, 
 and customs, it will require more of your atten- 
 tion and time than that of any other nation.-— 
 Of Great Britain, and especially England, many 
 histories, annals, and chronicles have been writ- 
 ten and compiled. To read the whole of them 
 would be an Herculean undertaking, and I con- 
 ceive an unnecessary waste of time and labour. 
 It will be sufficient, therefore, barely to run 
 
MODERN HISTORY, 117 
 
 over such as I think deserve your more particu- 
 lar attention. They are, first, Goldsmith, then 
 Rapin, Hume, with Smollett's and Bisset's Con- 
 tinuation, Henry, M'Cauly, Baxter, Holinghead's 
 Chronicles, Robertson's Scotland, Warner's Ire- 
 land, and Baine's or Stephen's Wars of the 
 French Revolution, accompanied by occasional 
 references to the British Annual Register, the 
 Parliamentary Debates, and the State Trials. 
 
 When you have completed the history of Eng- 
 land, and arranged and digested it according to 
 the very judicious plan Henry has adopted in 
 his work, you should next proceed to the history 
 of South America, and, finally, to that of your 
 own country, of the details of which, it is desirable 
 you should make yourself a perfect master. The 
 best histories of the southern division of this 
 great quarter of the globe, are Robertson's 
 South America, Pizarro and Orcllana's History 
 of the New World, Garcilasso de la Vega's 
 Royal Commentaries, Diaz del Castello's Con- 
 quest of New Spain, De Solis' Conquest, and 
 Clavigero's History of Mexico, Torquemada's 
 Indian Monarchy, Southey's Brazil, Molina's 
 Chili, Leone's Peru, Charlievoix's Paraguay, and 
 Edward's West Indies. To these, it will be 
 
118 COURSE OF 
 
 proper to add the narratives of the early voy- 
 agers, and first discoverers of that continent, 
 viz: Herrera, Ulloa, &c. 5 and a perusal of 
 Humboldt's Mexico and Narrative, and an oc- 
 casional inspection of Thompson's Alcido, will 
 supply you with all the information that can 
 now be obtained of the present condition of that 
 very beautiful portion of our globe. Of our 
 own country, the principal histories are, Ram- 
 say's United States of America, and Marshall's 
 Life of Washington, which partakes more of a 
 general history, than a biography. To these 
 must be joined, all the histories of the different 
 States that you can obtain,* from the period of 
 their discovery, to that of their confederation ; 
 together with Gordon, Botta, Ramsay, and War- 
 ren's Histories of the American Revolution, 
 Henry Lee's Memoirs, Heckewelder, Colden, 
 and Adair's Indian Histories ; Douglas's Summa- 
 ry, Burke's European Settlements in America, 
 
 * Burke's" History of Virginia, Proud's History of Pennsyl- 
 vania, with Findlay's History of the Pennsylvania Insurrection ; 
 Hutchison's History of Massachusetts, Winthrop's Journal, 
 Hewitt's South-Carolina, M'Call's Georgia, Smith's New- 
 York, Smith's New-Jersey, Belsham's New-Hampshire, Trum- 
 bull's Connecticut, Williams' Vermont, and Bozman's Ma- 
 ryland. These are the best State histories we have, though, 
 on the vyhole, defective in matter, arrangement, and style. 
 
MODERN HISTORr. 119 
 
 Holmes' Annals, and whatever relates to the 
 civil, natural, political, and geographical history 
 of our highly-favoured country. The history of 
 each nation may be closed by the perusal of the 
 accounts of it. furnished by the most intelligent 
 and unprejudiced tourists and travellers who 
 have visited it ; and thus, your knowledge of 
 each, will be rendered more complete and per- 
 fect. It may be again necessary to remind you, 
 before I conclude, that, in the whole course of 
 •your historical reading, you must never lose 
 sight of the order and arrangement 1 recom- 
 mended to you, at the commencement of this 
 letter, as so essential to a clear understanding, 
 and a perfect recollection of the facts you have 
 acquired, nor, at any time, neglect to accom- 
 pany your course with chronological tables, and 
 geographical maps — the two eyes of history : for 
 without these, it will he impossible, accurate- 
 ly, to follow the chain of events, to preserve 
 the details, to unite the histories of different 
 countries, or, in short, to read with that satis- 
 faction history is calculated to afford, and in- 
 tended to yield. I have purposely omitted to 
 say any thing of ecclesiastical history, because 
 it is not a branch of knowledge so important 
 in this as in other countries ; yet I would not 
 have you to be wholly unacquainted with it. 
 
120 COURSE OF, &G* 
 
 You will find it of some service, from its connex- 
 ion with civil history, and not of very difficult 
 attainment. All that you, or perhaps any Lay- 
 man, need know of the subject, may be found 
 in Mosheim's or Milnor's Ecclesiastical Histo- 
 ry, and Bower's History of the Popes, which I 
 recommend to your perusal. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER VIII. 
 
 ON THE OBJECTS AND USES OF HISTORY. 
 
 My Dear Son: 
 
 It has been my endeavour, in the course 
 of historical reading I have attempted to point 
 out for your instruction, to impress upon your 
 mind the necessity of considering history as 
 philosophy teaching by example. You must be 
 careful not to neglect this great and prominent 
 object ; but, if possible, always to view the 
 events of the world which the muse of history 
 has delineated, often, indeed, with a pencil dip- 
 ped in blood, and not less frequently in the 
 vivid colouring of fancy, through the medium of 
 philosophy alone. 
 
 The great tendency of history, is to inculcate 
 wisdom — it has the same effect on youth, that 
 experience has upon old age. "The school of 
 example," says Bolingbroke, " is the world ; 
 and the masters of this school, are history and 
 experience." In the page of history, we con- 
 template man in every condition of life — in eve- 
 L 
 
122 OBJECTS AND USES 
 
 ry gradation of virtue and of vice. He is pre- 
 sented to us, as before a tribunal by which he 
 is to be condemned or acquitted. We are made 
 acquainted with all his motives, his feelings, 
 and his actions ; the whole form is portrayed — 
 no part is thrown into shade, or concealed by 
 drapery ; he stands before us, as nature, educa- 
 tion, or society has made him ; we pity his mis- 
 fortunes, we love his virtues, and turn with hor- 
 ror and disgust from his vices. The historian, 
 indeed, is, and ought always to be, the friend of 
 virtue ; and, whatever may be his prejudices or 
 his feelings, the love of fame compels him to 
 praise or to censure, wherever praise or censure 
 is due. History is not only a school of exam- 
 ple, but a school of virtue : We are not only 
 taught experience by the examples it furnishes, 
 but virtue by the precepts it inculcates. The 
 historian, in tracing the rise and fall of nations, 
 dares not so pervert the actions of men, as to 
 give to virtue the qualities of vice, or to vice, 
 the properties of virtue. He is constrained to 
 adhere to truth, and to assign to virtue and vice, 
 " their local habitation and name." Even Ma- 
 ohiavel* himself, according to Hume, vile and 
 infamous as his sentiments appear, in his politi- 
 
 * This able man has been much misrepresented and misun- 
 derstood. 
 
OF HISTORY. 123 
 
 cal works, redeems his character in his history 
 of Florence, and inflames our love of virtue, 
 and our detestation of vice. In this respect it is 
 of no great importance whether the event re- 
 corded be fictitious or real, exaggerated or dar- 
 kened, the operation and effect are the same ; 
 and both tend, alike, to produce and strengthen 
 the sentiments of virtue. We view, with enthu- 
 siasm and delight, the characters of Aristides and 
 Fabricius ; but turn, with loathing and horror, 
 from those of Nero, Caligula, and Domitian. It 
 is in history we behold, as in a mirror, the perni- 
 cious effects of the love of power, and the dread- 
 ful consequences of blasted ambition. The vi- 
 cissitudes of human life, and the revolutions of 
 empires, claim alike our sympathy and our com- 
 misseration: and the fate of Marius, seated amidst 
 the ruins of Carthage, or of Belisarius, wander- 
 ing in blindness and beggary, through those coun- 
 tries his valour had won,* affects us no less than 
 the overthrow of kingdoms, or the fall of empires. 
 Look at Babylon, at Palmyra, at Greece, and at 
 Rome ! what melancholy does it not produce : 
 what a moral does it not inculcate ? Where are 
 now the heroes and sas;es of Greece — the cradle 
 of the muses, the glory of the world ? 
 
 * Gibbon doubts this fact. 
 
124 OBJECTS AND USES 
 
 Gone glimmering through the dream of things that were 
 A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour; 
 The warriors weapon, and the sophists stole, 
 Axe sought in vain; and o'er each mouldering tower, 
 Dim withthe mist of years, gray flits the shade of power. 
 
 Byroa t . 
 
 And Rome, too, the eternal city ; the mistress of 
 empires ; " the Niobe of nations !" Where are 
 now thy temples, thy glory, and thy might ? 
 
 Come and see 
 
 The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way 
 O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye 
 Whose agonies are evils of a day, 
 A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 But the catastrophe of cities, and the downfal 
 of nations, are not all we learn from history- 
 higher objects are attained : we are led on from 
 cause to effect; we are taught to philosophize 
 and to reason ; we are made to mark the rise 
 and progress, and destruction of kingdoms, and 
 to observe the virtues that contributed to their 
 greatness, and the vices that produced their 
 ruin. In short, we have the experience of ages 
 before us, and it is our own fault if we do not 
 profit by it, and render it useful to ourselves and 
 our country. The experience, too, which is 
 thus afforded, is preferable to that which is de» 
 
OF HISTORY. 125 
 
 rived from a knowledge of the living world ; 
 for though the impression made by the former, 
 be not so deep or lasting, it is less mixed with 
 prejudice or feeling, and the mind enters into 
 the examination of the actions of men, and the 
 conduct of nations, with more temperance and 
 coolness, than it can possibly feel in any view 
 it can take of the latter. Moreover, the exam- 
 ples which history gives us, are more perfect 
 and complete in themselves, than those we have 
 an opportunity of observing in our intercourse 
 with society ; and their utility > must, of course, 
 be proportionably greater. But in what, you 
 will perhaps ask, does this utility consist? It 
 consists, to sum up the whole in a few words, in 
 enlarging our sphere of knowledge, in anticipat- 
 ing our acquaintance with the world, in exhibit- 
 ing to us a true picture of human life and ac- 
 tion, in invigorating our judgment, removing 
 our prejudices, lessening our self-love, and mak- 
 ing us more wise, virtuous, and happy.* 
 
 * " History," says Sismondi, " is the depository of the ex- 
 periments of social science — no less than physic, chemistry, 
 agriculture, and medicine, are the depositories of the natural 
 sciences. High policy is experimental, and legislation, politi- 
 cal economy, finance, war, education, and religion, are so 
 likewise. It is important that all should understand the con- 
 sequences of human institutions and actions; and these conse- 
 quences are to be found in history 
 
 L 2 
 
126 OBJECTS AND USES 
 
 History is the school of philosophy— the ma- 
 gistra vita, the mistress of human life. Her 
 precepts are the precepts of wisdom and vir- 
 tue ; her sphere the circumference of the world 
 and the circle of time ; her principles are the 
 principles of rectitude, and her deductions are 
 the deductions of experience and of truth. In 
 the acquisition of every species of knowledge, 
 wisdom and virtue should always be the end pro- 
 posed ; and, in history, this end should never be 
 forgotten. A mere acquaintance with facts and 
 dates is not sufficient — is not all you have to 
 acquire. The study of history must be pursued 
 as a science ; its principles must be applied to 
 actual life, and its knowledge to the concerns of 
 nations. But to study it, with this object in 
 view, you must carry with you the spirit of phi- 
 losophy ; you must analyze and arrange, meditate 
 and digest; you must endeavour to trace the 
 effect to its cause, and the action to its motive — 
 
 Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas. 
 
 You must constantly labour to separate the true 
 from the fabulous, and the real from the ficti- 
 tious ; " neither grope in the dark, nor wander in 
 the light." What is unnatural, we shall not be- 
 lieve, and what we cannot believe, we will not 
 felish or be profited by. The origin of almost 
 
OF HISTORY. 127 
 
 all nations is buried in fable, or adorned by fic- 
 tion. Ignorance and superstition are apt to 
 magnify error, or to exaggerate and pervert 
 truth. What is wonderful or extraordinary, 
 delights the mind, in the infancy of knowledge ; 
 and invention and imagination are employed to 
 raise perhaps a common character, or an ordi- 
 nary event, beyond the sphere of probability. 
 History sometimes yields her pencil to poetry, 
 and Reason often retires, while Fancy usurps 
 the throne of truth. 
 
 I have endeavoured, my dear son, to caution 
 you against the great evil which the study of 
 history now presents — the multiplicity of books. 
 I wish you to remember, in this, as in every 
 other department of knowledge, the maxim of 
 Livy, multum legere potius quam multa. The 
 almost infinite number of historical works which 
 are to be found in nearly every modern lan- 
 guage, would, to be read, require a period 
 much longer than that which is allotted as the 
 ordinary duration of human life. All that you, 
 or any one can do, is to read with discrimina- 
 tion, and according to the plan I have sketched 
 for your direction. By this mode you will ac- 
 quire, to use the language of lord Bolingbroke, 
 " less learning, but more knowledge, and, as this 
 
128 OBJECTS AND USES 
 
 knowledge is collected with design, and cultiva- 
 ted with art and method, it will be, at all times, 
 of immediate and ready use," both to yourself 
 and others. But in the study of history, in ad- 
 dition to the eonstant employment of your me- 
 mory, you have much to exercise your judgment. 
 The veracity of the historian is not always to be 
 implicitly depended upon. Among the various 
 and contradictory accounts sometimes given of 
 the same event by different historians, you 
 must examine and determine for yourself : must 
 endeavour to separate truth from fiction, the 
 probable from the extravagant, the gold from 
 the dross. You must weigh, in your mind, 
 the probability of every fact recorded, and, 
 as in law, admit no evidence but the best of 
 which the nature of the case is susceptible. 
 You should in this, as in every other science, 
 pursue truth through all the meanderings of 
 prejudice and of error, and never rest con- 
 tented, until you are satisfied she has smiled 
 upon your efforts, and crowned your labours 
 with success. This, indeed, is more essen- 
 tially requisite in the historian himself, but 
 the student of history is equally interested in 
 feeling that he is right, and in knowing that 
 the information he has acquired, is founded 
 on the solid basis of immutable truth. From 
 
OF HISTORY, 129 
 
 these remarks it will be obvious, my son, 
 that some preparatory knowledge is requisite 
 to make the study of history yield that ex- 
 tensive moral, and intellectual advantage and 
 profit, it is so well calculated to afford. It 
 is true that facts, and names, and dates, may 
 be acquired, at a very early period of life, 
 and that facts, and names, and dates, cannot 
 be too early impressed upon the mind. Every 
 one knows that impressions, thus made, are 
 not easily obliterated, and are retained long af- 
 ter more recent ones are forgotten. But the 
 philosophy of history, in its application to the va- 
 rious actions of human life, and the conduct 
 and condition of nations, is to be acquired, only^ 
 when the mind is more matured by age, and en- 
 larged by knowledge and experience. Of the 
 preparatory information to which I have alluded, 
 you are already, in a great degree possessed ; I 
 mean an acquaintance with chronology, geog- 
 raphy, astronomy, and natural philosophy, to 
 which may be added some of the physical sci- 
 ences, particularly chemistry and geology, on 
 which I shall dwell, more at large, hereafter. 
 The utility of chronology and geography, in 
 illustrating history, must, from what I have al- 
 ready observed, be manifest ; and astronomy, 
 in perfecting your knowledge of geography, and 
 
130 OBJECTS AND tJSES 
 
 in facilitating chronological calculations, and, 
 thus enabling you the more easily and per- 
 fectly to comprehend the divisions of time 1 , and 
 the concatenation of events, cannot be dispens- 
 ed with. Mathematics, philosophy, geology, &c. 
 you will now find of no little service, in estab- 
 lishing the truth, or probability, of those events 
 which are connected with the operations of na- 
 ture, and the power of art. " Without some ac- 
 quaintance with philosophy," says Dr. Priest- 
 ley,* "it will be impossible to distinguish be- 
 tween the most absurd chimeras of eastern ro- 
 mance, and the most natural historical relations," 
 and a knowledge of the mathematics, in addition 
 to its other advantages which I have already pre- 
 viously attempted to develope, will make us 
 better acquainted with the military works and 
 movements of those nations whose history we 
 read. You will understand, my dear son, that 
 I do not mean, by these remarks, to insinuate 
 that history ought not to be read without a 
 knowledge of the sciences 1 have mentioned ; I 
 merely wish to be understood, as saying, that it 
 will be read with much greater advantage and 
 profit — that it will tend more to enlarge and en- 
 lighten the mind, and that it will be rendered 
 
 *Lcctures on History. 
 
OF HISTORY. 131 
 
 more effectually, a school of experience and 
 philosophy, by the aid of such preparatory ac- 
 quirements. 
 
 In the study of history, every one must have 
 a particular object in view. The statesman, 
 the divine, the lawyer, and the scholar, will read 
 with a different motive, and, sometimes, with an 
 altogether different design. But destined as you, 
 and most of the youth of this country are, to 
 the profession of law, the study of history must 
 be pursued, more especially, with a view to 
 the knowledge of human nature, and the moral 
 world ; and, according to Bolingbroke, princi- 
 pally for the purpose of " discovering the ab- 
 stract reason of laws — of tracing them from their 
 first rough sketches, to the most perfect draughts, 
 from the first causes or occasions that produced 
 them, through all the effects, good and bad, that 
 they produced." You will endeavour to have 
 a knowledge, not only of the operation, spirit, 
 and abstract reason of the laws, in different na- 
 tions, but you must also make yourself acquaint- 
 ed with the science of government, its origin, 
 its varieties, its revolutions, and its improve- 
 ments. A science so intimately blended with 
 the happiness and welfare of society — so con- 
 nected with its highest privileges, and best in- 
 
132 OBJECTS AND USES OF HISTORY* 
 
 terests, must be one of the first importance to 
 mankind, and of no ordinary magnitude to you, 
 born and educated, as you were, in a country so 
 highly distinguished by the freedom, and so re- 
 markable for the excellence, of its political in- 
 stitutions. 
 
 Adieu* 
 
LETTER IX. 
 
 ON A COURSE OP CHEMISTRY AND MINERALOGY 
 
 'My Dear Son: 
 
 I am pleased to discover that your pro- 
 gress has been so rapid, and that your curiosity, 
 as well a? your love of study, still continues 
 as strong and unabated as ever. The scien- 
 ces to which I now wish to direct your mind, 
 were, you will recollect, cursorily mentioned 
 in one of my former letters,* and may now 
 be either omitted, or acquired, as you think 
 proper : but it is my opinion, they had better 
 be studied, because they are connected with 
 the other branches of knowledge you have 
 already learned, and are, in themselves, a 
 source of high gratification, and no small util- 
 ity. They can be pursued in connexion with 
 other studies — need not occupy any great por- 
 tion of your time, and will always enable you, 
 in whatever condition of life you may be plac- 
 ed, or into whatever region of the globe you 
 
 * Letter oo Natural Philosophy. 
 
 M 
 
 
134 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 
 
 may be thrown, to avoid the irksomeness of 
 solitude, and the miseries of indolence. Na- 
 ture, at every step, will unfold her beauties to 
 your view — her varied features will appear in 
 new and striking loveliness, and in all that 
 fills the air, and the earth, and the ocean, you 
 will perceive a thousand beauties — a thousand 
 wonders, which would, otherwise, have passed 
 unnoticed, or have been neglected ; and which 
 will elevate yoUr mind, increase the ardour of 
 your devotion, and make you both a better man, 
 and a more useful member of society. But 
 when I recommend these sciences to your con- 
 sideration, in the course of education 1 wish you 
 to pursue, you must not understand me as de- 
 siring that you should be very solicitous to make 
 yourself master of them. There is not time 
 for this, and all that you can expect or desire, 
 is a knowledge of their elements, a tolerable 
 facility in the application of those elements, and 
 th 3 capacity to avail yourself of their numerous 
 advantages. Such an acquaintance as this, may 
 be attained in a much shorter time than is gene- 
 rally supposed, and without retarding, very much, 
 your progress in other studies, more indispensa- 
 ble to your profession. If you should not choose 
 to study them separately, you may connect 
 them, if you please, with the fine arts, or with 
 
AND MINERALOGY. 135 
 
 general history, both of which, they serve to il- 
 lustrate and improve, and both of which they 
 will aid you in understanding more thoroughly. 
 These sciences may be embraced under the 
 general name of natural philosophy, and con- 
 sidered as subdivisions of that branch which 
 Martin denominates geology, The process of 
 investigation, however, pursued in these, you 
 will find differing from that employed in the ma- 
 thematical sciences ; since, in the former, you 
 proceed from effect to cause, while in the latter, 
 you advance from cause to effect. They depend 
 almost wholly on memory, and, to be understood, 
 require minute and habitual observation, which, 
 by the way, I can assure you, becomes in the 
 end, not only pleasing, but highly useful. 
 
 You will commence with chemistry, perhaps 
 the most important, and certainly the most use- 
 ful, of all the physical sciences. It is intimately 
 connected with natural philosophy, unfolds the 
 various phenomena of nature, illustrates the ve- 
 getation of plants, and gives to the useful arts 
 their greatest power, and their highest excel- 
 lence. Entering, as it does, into almost every 
 thing connected with nature, it would be shame- 
 ful not to have some knowledge of it, especially 
 when that knowledge may be attained without 
 
136 COURSE OP CHEMISTRY 
 
 much toil, and no loss of time. Chemistry has 
 been vastly improved by the labours, experi- 
 ments, and discoveries of the moderns, who have 
 employed all their genius and bestowed their 
 undivided attention upon it. To what higher 
 point of perfection it is destined yet to attain, 
 I am not able to anticipate ; but it has certainly 
 advanced, since its origin, with a step both rapid 
 and astonishing, and has now reached all the 
 accuracy and correctness of a science. From 
 the time at which it was confined in its signi- 
 fication, to the mere art of working metals, or 
 of making gold or silver, to the present period, 
 its improvements have been constant and al- 
 most innumerable, and its utility, of course, 
 proportionably augmented. Chemistry was bor- 
 rowed from the Greeks by the Arabians, who 
 called it alchemy,*' and its professors alchemists, 
 and who first introduced it into the west of Eu- 
 rope. These alchemists, who have been long 
 and severely satirized, conceiving that gold was 
 a component part of all natural bodies, and ca- 
 pable of being brought to a state of purity, 
 
 * Alchemy is an Arabic word, and compounded of al (the,) 
 and hernia, (excellent,) or the master-art. Prior to the intro- 
 duction of this term, it was called chrysophoca, (fabrication of 
 .gold.) Argyrop&as (fabrication of silver,) or pyrotechnic 
 (art of fire.) 
 
AND MINERALOGY. 1ST 
 
 laboured with great diligence to discover the 
 means which would produce this change, and 
 convert the baser metals into gold. This pow- 
 er was called the Philosophers stone* — lapis phi- 
 losophorwn, and many boasted that they pos- 
 sessed it. In the tenth or eleventh centuries, 
 when mankind were buried in the glooms of 
 ignorance and superstition, it was not difficult 
 to impose upon the credulity of an illiterate 
 multitude ; and these men, and their pretended 
 art, which they alleged to be a divine gift, 
 were, of course, held in high estimation. But 
 the low tricks which they practised to gain mo- 
 ney from those who were simple enough to con- 
 fide in them, and ihe facility with which the 
 discovery of printing enabled the wits of the 
 age to attack and expose their knavery, brought 
 them into contempt, and the art, itself, into 
 disrepute. About the fifteenth century, how- 
 ever, it again arose with redoubled splendour, 
 and acquired great celebrity under Paracelsus ; 
 who, though his career was but short, and though 
 he was himself an imposter, gave such an eclat 
 
 * The Philosopher's stone, besides transmuting baser metals 
 into gold, was to stop bodily infirmities, remedy all diseases 
 incident to man, and to renew life. According to Friar Bacon, 
 Artiphius preserved his existence, by these means, for 1025 
 years. 
 
 12 
 
138 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 
 
 to the science, that after his decease, many labo- 
 rious men devoted their attention to its cultiva- 
 tion, and contributed to its advancement. At 
 length, appeared the once celebrated Beecher, 
 who, casting off the shackles of alchemy, reduced 
 chemistry to the form in which it now appears. 
 For the last fifty or sixty years, however, it has 
 made a much more rapid progress, and has been 
 brought to a much higher state of perfection, 
 than at any other antecedent period, and from 
 its great and manifest utility in the arts and 
 manufactures, it bids fair to become hereafter 
 a subject of general interest, and attention to 
 mankind. 
 
 To acquire a correct knowledge of this useful 
 science, you must attend the lectures of some 
 able professor, and, if that be not convenient, 
 read and make experiments yourself. Of the nu- 
 merous treatises on this science, all that you 
 need peruse and study, are, Conversations on 
 Chemistry, Thompson's System, by Cooper, 
 Brande's Manual, Henry's Elements of Experi- 
 mental Chemistry, Davy's Chemical Philosophy 
 and Agricultural Chemistry, and a work, entitled 
 Que Thousand Experiments in Chemistry. These 
 writers will point out to you the path you ought 
 to pursue, and the experiments it will be neces^ 
 
AND MINERALOGY. 139 
 
 sary to make, with a view to such a knowledge of 
 the science as every gentleman of education should 
 feel it his duty to possess. And the intimate 
 connexion it has with natural philosophy, which 
 you have acquired, and the facility which has been 
 given to its attainment by the new nomenclature, 
 will render its approach pleasing, and your pro- 
 gress rather a source of delight than of toil. 
 
 Let us now proceed to mineralogy, a branch 
 of natural history which I am happy to find, has, 
 of late, become an object of more inquiry and 
 consideration than it iras hitherto been thought 
 expedient to bestow upon it. It certainly is a 
 very important one, and regarded in connexion 
 with the useful arts, ought to be more highly 
 esteemed, and more generally studied, than it 
 now is. The difficulties under which it labour- 
 ed, in its origin, the genius and assiduity of en- 
 lightened men, have succeeded in removing, and 
 what was once a chaos of confusion, has been 
 reduced to a system so lucid and intelligible^ 
 that it would not be hazarding much to say, 
 that almost the meanest capacity can compre 
 hend, and the feeblest memorj' retain it. It 
 must indeed be admitted that there are some 
 difficulties in this, as in every other science, 
 but the chief obstructions in the way of its at- 
 
 
140 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 
 
 tainment, are the various and complicated prin- 
 ciples or elements which often enter into the 
 composition of bodies, and which cannot be 
 known without being analyzed and decomposed* 
 But with the knowledge which chemistry and 
 the mathematics have furnished you, and es- 
 pecially geometry and algebra, you will be en- 
 abled to understand the different figures which 
 chrystals assume, and to calculate, with some 
 ease and certainty, the principles of their for- 
 mation. Of mineralogy and chemistry, all that 
 it may be necessary for you to understand, will 
 be, to class and distinguish one mineral from 
 another, to know the component parts and pro- 
 perties of bodies, to be able to analyze them by 
 tests, and to comprehend their nature,- affinities, 
 and combinations, and the uses to which they may 
 be applied. The first step 1 would recommend 
 to you in the study of mineralogy, is to obtain 
 access, if possible, to a large cabinet or collec- 
 tion of minerals, without which, you cannot 
 make any progress in the science. Read Phil- 
 lips' Introduction to Mineralogy, and Conversa- 
 tions on Mineralogy : familiarize your eye with 
 their external characters — their shape, colour, 
 lustre, transparency, &c, and with the dictinct 
 characters of each species. Then endeavour to 
 class and arrange them according to the system 
 
AND MINERALOGY. 141 
 
 adopted by Cleveland, Jameson, or Hauy, whom 
 you should read with care. The only instruments 
 you will want, are a good convex lens, an electro- 
 metre, magnetic needle, a pair of scales, a few 
 acids and alkalies, and a hammer. With these, 
 and some books, you will, in a short time, be 
 able to analyze and determine the family of any 
 mineral that may be presented to you, and, at 
 length, to know not only the class and species, 
 but the variety and name of a specimen, by a 
 bare inspection of its external character. That 
 part of mineralogy, however, which treats of 
 rocks, and which belongs chiefly to geology, will 
 require more of your attention and time ; be- 
 cause it is less settled, and more difficult to be 
 understood. It has, indeed, been greatly sim- 
 plified by a judicious arrangement, the result of 
 accurate observation and experiment, and which, 
 though often disputed, has been at last generally 
 adopted. This arrangement was introduced by 
 Werner, and consists of — 1st, Primary; 2nd, 
 Transition ; 3rd, Secondary ; 4th, Alluvial ; 
 and, 5th, Volcanic formations. Werner's The- 
 ory, called the Neptunian, from the agency he 
 gives to water, and to contradistinguish it from 
 the Plutonian, or that of Hutton, who admits 
 both fire and water as agents, is founded on the 
 belief that certain substances have been succes- 
 
142 course or chemistry, &c. 
 
 sively deposited upon each other, according to 
 the order Werner has developed. These two 
 theories have been compared and illustrated 
 with great eloquence and ability, by Playfair 
 and others, whose works you must peruse. But 
 to facilitate your attainment of this branch of 
 mineralogy, you will pursue the plan I have al- 
 ready recommended, in relation to the other 
 portions of the mineral kingdom, namely : fa- 
 miliarize yourself with the different species of 
 rocks in a cabinet, and endeavour to become 
 acquainted with their respective positions upon 
 the earth, and their indications of the other 
 minerals with which they are usually associated. 
 After this, read BakewelPs Introduction to Ge- 
 ology, Mawe's Familiar Lessons, and Faujas 
 St. Fond, and Brande, whom you have already 
 examined; and, having united this. knowledge to 
 geography and the arts, and made yourself suf- 
 ficiently acquainted with the mineral world, you 
 may next proceed to the study of organic life, 
 or the vegetable and animal kingdoms, which 
 I will consider in my next. 
 
 Adieu, 
 
LETTER X. 
 
 OX A COURSE OF BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 •Manibus date lilia pleni- 
 
 Parpureos spargam flores. 
 
 Among all the natural sciences, there is none 
 so alluring and delightful as that of botany. It 
 unfolds to its votary a scene of enchantment and 
 beauty which nothing can surpass, and which 
 leads him through the apparent difficulties by 
 which it is surrounded, with a power so pleasing, 
 that every inclination to resist is banished, and 
 every toil becomes a pleasure. It is in the ve- 
 getable world that nature seems to have display- 
 ed her nicest touch and most delicate colouring. 
 The variety, magnificence and ^beauty of this 
 portion of her works, it would be impossible to 
 describe ; and can only be relished by those 
 whose taste and inclination lead them to the 
 study of botany. To such, a source of almost 
 unceasing delight is afforded, and that delight is 
 increased in proportion as the mystery is unveil- 
 ed : and the whole beauty of the vegetable king- 
 
144 BOTANV AND ZOOLOGY. 
 
 dom, with all its rich, splendid, and magnificent 
 drapery, is laid open to his view : 
 
 -For who can paint 
 
 Like nature ? Can imagination boast 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other as appears 
 In every bud that blows ? 
 
 The science of botany, however, must be con- 
 sidered on a more enlarged scale than that which 
 limits it to a mere exhibition of physical beauty. 
 Connected with medicine, agriculture, and the 
 arts, its importance cannot be too highly appre- 
 ciated, or too attentively considered. It directs 
 our search for those plants which are suitable to 
 the soil we wish to cultivate — it enables us to 
 procure the most beautiful and interesting vari- 
 eties, and to choose among the numerous tribes 
 of vegetables that are spread over the surface of 
 the earth, such as are the best adapted to our 
 wants, and the most proper to decorate our 
 dwellings, and to multiply our enjoyments. In 
 religion and morals, this charming science has 
 also its advantages. In contemplating the won- 
 derful organization of plants, we cannot but ad- 
 mire the wisdom of that matchless being, 
 
 fl Whose breath perfumes them, and whose pencil paints.'' 
 
BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 146 
 
 And a conviction of that wisdom must necessari- 
 ly inspire greater love and warmer devotion. 
 Its moral influence is felt by begetting simple 
 tastes ; by infusing into the mind ideas of order, 
 and into the soul, sentiments of benevolence and 
 peace. 
 
 Till the age of Linnaeus, botany had not the 
 character of a science. Nothing but confusion, 
 disorder, and difficulty existed, where harmony 
 and beauty have since been made to reign. The 
 genius of a Gesner enabled him to make some 
 small advances towards a system. Caesalpin 
 went still further, and Tournefort succeeded in 
 producing one founded on the form of the Co- 
 rola. But the discovery of a sexual union in the 
 vegetable world was reserved for Linnaeus, who 
 has been denominated, with peculiar propriety 
 and justice, the father of botany; and on this 
 marriage of plants, he has erected a system, 
 founded upon the number and combination of 
 the sexual parts, which not only from its clear- 
 ness, but also from its fine poetical character, 
 excites that enthusiasm which is so remarkable 
 in those who have devoted themselves to this 
 branch of natural history. He has cast around 
 this science a charm so captivating and resist- 
 less, that the apparent difficulties which arise 
 N 
 
146 COURSE OF 
 
 from the first view of its formidable nomencla- 
 ture, are disregarded or despised, and the de- 
 lighted student marches forward with a pace 
 steady and progressive ; because his path is en- 
 amelled with flowers, which delight his vision 
 by the variety and brilliancy of their tints, and 
 regale his scent with the deliciousness of their 
 fragrance. 
 
 I speak now of botany as a science,- compre- 
 hending vegetable physiology, and a knowledge 
 of the medicinal, esculent, and other uses of 
 plants ; and not as a mere nomenclature or sys* 
 tern of words. My object is to exhibit to you 
 what I conceive the best plan to be employed in 
 the acquisition of this science. The system of 
 Linnaeus I have already mentioned : it is however 
 due to the genius and perseverance of Bernard 
 de Jussieu to state that the scheme which he has 
 established suggested, however by Linnaeus him- 
 self, has many eulogists and followers, who assert 
 that he has rendered the science more easy and 
 simple. It consists in exhibiting the natural re- 
 lation which is found to exist among plants, and 
 in uniting them into families, in which the pre- 
 sence of one character proves that of many 
 others, while their analogy points out the simili- 
 tude of their qualitiesj 
 
 i 
 
BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 147 
 
 Thus the discoveries made by analysis are now 
 confirmed by synthethis in such a manner that 
 the individual who studies a few details may, by 
 examining a small number of vegetables of differ- 
 ent families, from a general idea of botany. The 
 mere knowledge of the nomenclature of botany 
 does not constitute a botanist. A man, says Ros- 
 seau, may be well acquainted with this beautiful 
 science without knowing the name of a single 
 vegetable. Yet the knowledge of the nomen- 
 clature will be, in some degree, necessary as an 
 introduction, and may be soon acquired. A name, 
 for example, is given to an object of sense; and 
 though that name be foreign, it will easily be 
 recalled whenever the same object is presented. 
 
 The best and most easy plan to be pursued, 
 according to a French writer,* in the acquisition 
 of this science, after you have obtained a know- 
 ledge of the principles, is to accompany a person 
 who is acquainted with plants, into the country ; 
 go with him into the fields, and groves, and gar- 
 dens ; collect from three to four hundred plants ; 
 examine and analyse them carefully, and pre- 
 serve them in a herbarium. Read whatever has 
 been written about them ; examine them fre- 
 quently ; and their names, character, different 
 
 * Deleuze. 
 
148 COURSE OF 
 
 organs, number of species, forms, soil, propor- 
 tions and uses will be impressed upon the me- 
 mory. After this has been effected, determine for 
 yourself about four hundred more according to 
 the Linnasan method ; you will then be qualified 
 to comprehend the principles upon which the na- 
 tural families are established, to ascertain the 
 characters which unite the genera of which they 
 are composed, and to estimate the importance of 
 those characters. You are now ready to enter 
 into a larger field. Gather plants, analyse them, 
 compare those which are new to you with those 
 with which you are already acquainted, describe 
 them as you find them in complete fructification ; 
 in many this fructification will be similar ; unite 
 them into genera, in effacing from your descrip- 
 tions the common characters, which you write 
 3part, and preserving the differences in order to 
 distinguish the species. Compare, then, your la- 
 bours with what has been done by skilful botan- 
 ists, and never seek for the name till you have des- 
 cribed the plant. 
 
 You must accustom yourself to recollect the 
 synonymes, in order to consult, in case of need, 
 the authors that have spoken of the same species 
 under different names. 
 
BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 149 
 
 In informing yourself of the experiments which 
 have been made to discover the irritability of 
 vegetables, the action which the light, the heat, 
 the influence of the air, water, sun, the phenom- 
 ena of germination and of nutrition exercise up- 
 on them, you must realise the most important of 
 these experiments, and endeavour to confirm the 
 facts, or to discover new ones, by such other ex- 
 periments as you may deem necessary. You 
 can then study the history of plants the most cel- 
 ebrated for their beauty, their singularity, or the 
 uses to which they may be applied. The study 
 of grasses, and of Cryptogamous plants, should 
 not be neglected. The mosses present, by the 
 elegance and regularity of their parts, by the 
 irritability with which they are endowed, by 
 the means which nature employs to preserve 
 and re-produce the species ; a chain of pheno- 
 mena too curious and interesting to escape any 
 ones attention. Two years will be sufficient to 
 acquire such a knowledge of botany, as one dis- 
 posed merely to know the classes and divisons, 
 and to acquire exact notions of the principal 
 phenomena of the vegetable kingdom may 
 require. With such a knowledge of botany as 
 I have mentioned, this science will be found 
 more an amusement than a labour, and every 
 day will unfold new charms and new beauties 
 N 2 
 
150 COURSE OF 
 
 till the whole vegetable world lies before you in 
 all its splendour, magnificence, singularity, and 
 elegance. 
 
 The books in this science I would recom- 
 mend to you, are not numerous. Begin by read- 
 ing Barton's Elements, Martin's Rousseau, and 
 Wildenow's Principles ; and after you have ac- 
 quired a complete knowledge of these elements, 
 Linnaeus' and Wildenow's Genera Plantarum, 
 and Pursh's and Nuttall's North American Flora, 
 Barton and Elliot's Botany, Curtis on Grasses, 
 and a few other botanical works will be sufficient 
 for your purpose. 
 
 From the vegetable to the animal kingdom, 
 the transition is easy, and I think you will find 
 the one not less interesting and useful than 
 the other. The philosophy of both you must 
 and will soon understand, and, when you have 
 traced the analogies which exist between these 
 two kingdoms, and marked the structure, organs, 
 growth, food, propagation, and decay of vegeta- 
 ble and animal productions, you will see, and 
 must be struck with, the extraordinary wisdom, 
 perfection, and power of that being who has spo- 
 ken them into existence. The various phenom« 
 ena of animal life will enlarge your views of the 
 
BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 151 
 
 Deity, increase the ardour of your devotions, 
 and enable you to see, and feel how mean, and 
 low, and contemptible, are the most splendid and 
 masterly specimens of art, compared with the 
 most minute and diminutive productions of him 
 whose wisdom is ineffable, and 
 
 Whose smallest works 
 
 Exceed the narrow limits of our mind. 
 
 This science, as might have been expected, has 
 had many followers, whose enthusiasm has led 
 them to eulogise it with an ability and eloquence 
 calculated to excite our admiration, and to stim- 
 ulate the most indifferent to study. Buffon and 
 Lacipede stand pre-eminent as its advocates and 
 admirers. The former of these may be read not 
 only with great profit, but with much pleasure ; 
 both from the great knowledge he displays, and 
 the fine and captivating eloquence, he employs ; 
 There is, however, one objection to him which 
 you will soon discover, and that is that his theo- 
 ries are too visionary, and his conclusions too rash 
 and hasty. He was born for the study of nature, 
 his mind was filled with poetical images and 
 fine thoughts, and he never fails to paint with 
 an exquisite pencil and the richest colours.— 
 " The study of nature," says Lacipede,* " pro- 
 
 * Lacipede Discours d'ouyerture du cours de Zoologies 
 
J52 COURSE OF 
 
 duces that elevation of sentiment, that energy of 
 character, that depth of reflection which give 
 birth to virtue, and blunt the shafts of misfortune. 
 Amidst deserts the most remote — solitudes the 
 most savage — upon shores the most distant, do 
 you experience that dreary loneliness which man 
 dreads as death? Have you not nature before 
 you ? Do you not understand her eloquent voice, 
 proclaiming the wonders of the creation ?" 
 
 The arrangement or classification of this branch 
 of natural history, is very simple, and will be soon 
 attained. It consists, according to Linnaeus, of 
 only six classes; and the classification of Lin- 
 naeus being the most brief, and at the same time 
 comprehensive, has been generally adopted. 
 These classes are again subdivided into orders, 
 and these orders into genera and species; an 
 arrangement very similar to that he has adopted 
 in the vegetable kingdom. The classes are, 
 
 1st, Mamalia, or animals, that succle their 
 young, whose heart has two ventricles, and whose 
 blood is red and warm, called viviparous. 
 
 2nd. Aves, or birds, distinguished like the 
 above, but with feathers, and are called ovipa- 
 rous. 
 
BOTANlf AND ZOOLOGY. 153 
 
 3rd. Amphibia, whose heart has one ventricle 
 and one auricle, and whose blood is red and 
 cold, 
 
 4th. Pisces, or fishes, which have the same 
 qualities as the preceding, but not the same vol- 
 untary command of their lungs. 
 
 5th. Insecta, or insects, of which the heart has 
 one ventricle, the blood is cold and white, and 
 the animals are furnished with antennae or feelers. 
 
 6th. Vermes, or worms, the same .as the pre- 
 ceding, with this difference that, instead of an- 
 tennas, they have tentaculse. 
 
 A very superficial and rapid glance at this 
 subject will enable you to see the necessity of 
 possessing some knowledge of anatomy, and 
 particularly comparative anatomy ; a science but 
 recently introduced, and of great importance in 
 the study of zoology. This branch of knowledge 
 I recommended to you while studying design. It 
 will now be useful to you in enabling you to mark 
 the essential characters of animals, their organiza- 
 tion, habits, modes of life, climates, and the dif- 
 ferent degrees of sagacity they possess. It is 
 now, too, you will experience the utility and plea- 
 
154 COURSE OF 
 
 sure resulting from your previous acquaintance 
 with design and painting ; you can exhibit to 
 the eye by a few strokes of the pencil, a more 
 correct and accurate idea of any vegetable or 
 animal production, than by a volume of oral, or 
 written description. In the study of this branch 
 of natural history, you will pursue the simple ar- 
 rangement of its classes, commencing with ma- 
 malia and terminating with vermes; obtain, if 
 practicable, access to a museum ; take, at first 
 a rapid survey of the whole ; then endeavour 
 to distinguish the genera and species of animals, 
 and finally acquaint yourself with all that relates 
 to them ; such as their organization, habits, 
 names, &c. For a beginner, perhaps the best 
 work is Blumenbach's Manual, which, with suf- 
 ficient fullness, will give him a correct notion, 
 and furnish him with a comprehensive outline of 
 this interesting science. After him, you must 
 consult Buffon, Shaw, and Lacipede who, toge- 
 ther with the aid of a personal inspection of the 
 animal itself, when possible, will yield you every 
 information on this subject it may be necessary 
 to possess. But in the study of insects, diminu- 
 tive and inconsiderable as they may appear, a new 
 source of wonder and of admiration will be pre- 
 sented to your mind. You will see that the 
 same great and matchless being that gave life 
 
BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 155 
 
 and wisdom to man, is still visible in the organi- 
 zation of the meanest insect that crawls. The 
 miscroscope will unfold to you new wonders in a 
 world invisible to the naked eye, and exhibit the 
 same exquisite perfection and excellence, in the 
 most minute and diminutive, that are seen in the 
 grandest and most majestic and unwieldy of crea- 
 ted beings. Your imagination may range over a 
 field of infinite extent and variety, and when fa- 
 tigued with the toil and drudgery of your profes- 
 sion, you can repose amid the beauties of nature, 
 gaze on the rich and splendid colourings of her 
 pencil, and elevate your soul, by the contempla- 
 tion of the endless perfection and wisdom and 
 variety she displays. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER XI. 
 
 ON A COURSE OF MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSO- 
 PHY, PUBLIC LAW, AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 Having now passed through the delight- 
 ful regions of natural science, you may proceed 
 to what is more immediately the object of mind, 
 but, while you do this, I must caution you against 
 involving yourself in the labyrinth, or losing 
 yourself in the mazes of metaphysical subtile- 
 ty and refinement. It is a science of great 
 interest to the youthful mind, and is sometimes 
 too apt to give it an improper bias, and to 
 lead it into error \ but, grounded as you now 
 are in the physical and mathematical or ex- 
 act sciences, its effects cannot be very inju- 
 rious, and its benefits may be considerable. — 
 It will enable you to comprehend the nature 
 and properties of mind, as distinguished from 
 matter, and though it deals in abstraction, and 
 its theories and hypotheses have sometimes been 
 entirely visionary and ideal, it will enlarge 
 your knowledge of man, and make you better 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 157 
 
 acquainted with the phenomena of the human in- 
 tellect. You need not wade through the absurd 
 systems and unimportant controversies of Berk- 
 ley, Hume, Malebranche, and Descartes ; they 
 leave the mind worse than they found it — either 
 on the precipice of scepticism, or in the abyss of 
 delusion and error. It is of no essential impor- 
 tance to know whether matter thinks, or thinks 
 not ; whether the soul be distinct from the mind, 
 or whether " this great globe, and all which it 
 inherits," be real or imaginary — a dull reality, 
 or a sickly dream ; such inquiries tend nei- 
 ther to improve, nor invigorate the human 
 mind, and only beget barren and unproduc- 
 tive speculation. The kind of metaphysical 
 knowledge which I should recommend to you, 
 would be that which embraces the being and at- 
 tributes of the Deity ; the natural powers and 
 operations of the human mind, and the affections 
 and passions of the human heart. In the course 
 of your investigation into this subject, you will 
 see the close and intimate union existing be- 
 tween body and mind, and the necessity of 
 knowing the one, in order properly to know the 
 other. Of the physical organization of man, you 
 have already a competent knowledge, and this 
 will facilitate your march into the regions of in- 
 tellect, and render your progress, not only more 
 O 
 
158 COURSE OP MORAL AND 
 
 rapid, but more useful and satisfactory. The 
 course of reading on this subject need not be ve- 
 rv extensive ; it will only be necessary to peruse, 
 with attention, Aristotle,* Locke, t Stewart,! 
 Reid, and Brown, and, if you please, Leibnitz, 
 Hartley, Condillac, Kant and others of the 
 French School. Scotland has been peculiarly 
 fortunate in the production of able and eloquent 
 metaphysicians, and it is to her we owe almost 
 all the improvements which have been made in 
 the philosophy of the mind, since the days of the 
 illustrious Locke. The metaphysical science is 
 of an almost unlimited range, and of very great 
 utility in the legal profession, from the princi- 
 ples it furnishes applicable to that science. It 
 sharpens the mind, and if it does not make it more 
 solid, it renders it at least more acute and inge- 
 nious. Its necessary tendency is to throw the 
 mind back upon itself, and to beget inquiry and 
 investigation. Read then, with great care, the 
 authors I have mentioned : reflect and meditate 
 much, and do not waste your time in disputes 
 about words, or suffer yourself to be seduced by 
 hypothesis, however brilliant and ingenious. 
 
 :•* Aristotle's Ethics. 
 
 t Locke on the Understanding. 
 
 t D. Stewart, Reid, and Brown's Philosophy. 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 159 
 
 To intellectual, you will, of course unite the 
 study of moral and political philosophy ; a sub- 
 ject blended with, of equal interest and of su- 
 perior importance to, the one I have just men- 
 tioned. The importance of this science you 
 will readily understand, from its subjects and 
 character, inculcating, as it does, those prin- 
 ciples which tend to make us virtuous and 
 happy, and developing those rules of conduct 
 which, both as individuals and members of 
 society, we are bound to observe and prac- 
 tice. It is of great antiquity, and has been the 
 subject of deep and interesting inquiry in al- 
 most every age of the world. Greece and Rome 
 were distinguished for their philosophers ; and, 
 to the former, we are indebted not only for the 
 name of this science, but for one who, during a 
 long succession of centuries, was considered the 
 " secretary of nature," and the " prince of poli- 
 ticians," and whose authority, in this department 
 of knowledge, was felt and admitted wherever ci- 
 vilization had extended, or science had diffused 
 her light. It found its way through the gloom of 
 monkish barbarism, and spread its influence amid 
 the darkness of the middle ages. The ascen- 
 dency of the philosophy of the Stagirite was, at 
 one period of the world, almost as unlimited as 
 Christianity is now, and but few presumed to 
 
160 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 doubt or dispute it ; but a more intimate know- 
 ledge of the laws of nature, proceeding from the 
 profound researches and important discoveries 
 of modern philosophers, finally tended to subvert 
 the parepatetic school, and to introduce a sys- 
 tem founded upon religion, more true to nature^ 
 and more consonant to reason. This system 
 you will find amply unfolded in Paley's Moral 
 Philosophy, Beattie's Elements of Moral Science, 
 Adam Smith's Moral Sentiments, and our own 
 countryman, S. S. Smith's Moral and Politi- 
 cal Philosophy, with whose opinions and rea- 
 sonings you should endeavour to make yourself 
 particularly conversant ; but, before you do this, 
 it will be necessary, first, to read over Enfield's 
 History of Philosophy, Degerando and Stewart's 
 Dissertations, which will afford you a general sur- 
 vey of the rise and progress of speculative opin- 
 ions, from the earliest times, and of the different 
 and numerous systems of philosophy that have 
 existed in the world. To these, you must add 
 Aristotle's Ethics, Xenophon 1 s Memorabilia, 
 Plato, Cicero's Offices, Seneca's Morals, and 
 Plotinus. But of all the systems of morals that 
 have been introduced, the most excellent, the 
 most pure, and the most lovely, is that which is 
 to be found in the sacred volume, to which I have 
 already directed your attention, and with which. 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 161 
 
 I hope, you' have made yourself acquainted.-— 
 " In the philosophy of Aristotle," says Gillies, 
 and, indeed, in all the ancients, "man is the 
 judge of man — in Christianity the judge of man 
 is God. Philosophy confines itself to the per- 
 ishing interests of the present world ; Christian- 
 ity, looking beyond those interests, takes a lof- 
 tier aim — inspires the mind with nobler motives, 
 and promises to adorn it with perfections worthy 
 of its inestimably valuable rewards." The un- 
 changeable precepts of the gospel, are the foun- 
 dation of all human law, and of all human virtue 
 and happiness. They prescribe to us our duties 
 to God, to man, and to ourselves; and it is not 
 hazarding much, to say, that they constitute the 
 essence of human wisdom, and are, beyond dis- 
 pute, the most infallible guides to present and 
 eternal felicity. " The knowledge of things di- 
 vine," says Theages Pathagorus, " and most 
 honourable is the principal cause and rule of 
 human felicity."* 
 
 But you must remember, my dear son, that bare- 
 ly to acquire a knowledge of the principles of 
 
 * Apy.x 4* atrix 4 a K^v&vsvT/ rxs avQfUTuixz sv oxiy.i- 
 
 Theag. Pythag, 
 O 2 
 
162 COURSE OP MORAL AND 
 
 moral science, is not the only end you should 
 have in view — you must go further: you must not 
 only understand, but be regulated by its precepts. 
 The object and aim of all science, is to make 
 men more useful, and, of course, more virtuous 
 and happy, for knowledge ought not only to give 
 power but happiness. The precepts you ac- 
 quire, should be reduced to practice ; the rules 
 of conduct and of action which philosophy pre- 
 scnbes, ought to be realized. A mere ac- 
 quaintance, however intimate, with the specu- 
 lative opinions, and moral systems of men, 
 will be of little service to you — they only tend 
 to decorate the mind, without improving or 
 benefiting the heart. It is the heart, there- 
 fore, that must feel the influence of, and be go- 
 verned by, the precepts of religion and morals ; 
 all other systems are useless , because it is 
 from the heart that all vice and virtue, all good 
 and evil spring. And I assure y:>u, I should 
 much rather see you an honest man, with a 
 soul pure and upright, than one of the greatest 
 philosophers that ever blazed on society with- 
 out it. You will have many occasions, in your 
 progress through life, to exercise the philoso- 
 phy you are now studying, and to experience 
 its efficacy, and the force and truth of the ad- 
 ?ice\J have given you* You will often see the 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 163 
 
 beauty and utility of the fine maxim of Epicte- 
 tus, "bear and forbear much;" the necessity 
 of living for others, as well as yourself, and of 
 extending your usefulness as widely as possible ; 
 and, when you have thus lived, you will, like the 
 sun, after diffusing his heat and radiance through 
 the earth, sink into the tomb in cloudless glory, 
 conscious that you have done your duty, and have 
 not lived in vain. Endeavour so to live, that you 
 may never say, as a virtuous Roman emperor 
 once did, " I have lost a day." The profes- 
 sion you are about to adopt, is one which will 
 call forth all your virtuous energies, and require 
 all your circumspection and caution to avoid the 
 snares of vice, by which you will be surrounded. 
 It is a profession, I confess, not altogether favour- 
 able to the practice of virtue, and will therefore 
 cast additional brilliancy on the character of 
 him who rises above the little chicanery and 
 low arts of such as too often figure as " foment- 
 ers of village vexation." In proportion to the 
 resistance you offer to the attractions and allure- 
 ments of vice, will be your merit and your hap- 
 piness ; and, while many at the bar, are losing 
 all moral and intellectual discrimination, by pro- 
 miscuously defending the right and-ihe wrong, 
 your judgment and heart, by adhering to the un- 
 deviating principles of moral rectitude, will re- 
 
164 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 main uninjured, and your character rise in the es- 
 timation and respect of all who hear your name. 
 
 The elements of political, are intimately blend= 
 ed with those of moral, philosophy, and, of 
 course, must be attained at the same time.- — 
 These have been touched on by some of the au- 
 thors you have read.* It is essential, however, 
 that you should take a more extended and com- 
 prehensive view of the subject than they have 
 presented ; and that you should acquaint your- 
 self with the origin, nature, and objects of civil 
 governments ; and the spirit, tendency, and scope 
 of human institutions and laws. To this end, 
 read carefully, the politics of Aristotle — "a most 
 inexhaustible treasure," says D. Taylor, " to 
 the statesman, the lawyer, and the philosopher." 
 The Origin of Laws by Gouguet, the Spirit of 
 Laws, by Montesquieu, who has been, with pro- 
 priety, denominated " the prince of philosophi- 
 cal politicians," the Review of Montesquieu, by 
 Tracy, Locke on Government, Ferguson and 
 G. Stewart's View of Civil Society. De la Croix's 
 Constitutions, De Real's Science du Government, 
 Bentham and Mably's Principles of Legislation, 
 and De Lolme on the Constitution of England. 
 But in ranging over the different constitutions 
 
 *Paiey, S. S. Smith, &q.» 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 165 
 
 and systems of government, which have existed 
 in the old world, you must not neglect the one 
 under which it has been your good fortune 
 to be born ; and which, undoubtedly, stands 
 " proudly eminent" above all that have ever 
 been adopted for the amelioration of mankind 
 and the security of the rights, liberties, and hap- 
 piness of society. The constitution of the Unit- 
 ed States, is a monument of human wisdom, and 
 " an edifice of strength and majesty ; the union 
 of its parts forms its solidity, and the harmony 
 of its proportions, constitutes its beauty."* 
 Make it, therefore, the standard of comparison, 
 while engaged in analyzing the organization of 
 other governments, and you will see, at once, its 
 superiority and excellence. Its brevity, and pre- 
 cision are not its least merit, and no one will find 
 much difficulty in comprehending it. To render 
 your knowledge of # jt, however, more perfect, I 
 would recommend to you the Federalist and 
 Letters of Pacificus, by Messrs. Madison, Ha- 
 milton, and Jay, a work of great merit, which will 
 unfold to you the whole design, scope, and bear- 
 ing of this excellent system of government ; and 
 the motives and intentions of its framers.— < 
 There are other works, which will also enlarge 
 your knowledge of the American constitution. 
 
 * Deslandes sur l'Importance de la Revolution Americaine. 
 
661 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 and which must not he omitted : 1 mean, Tay- 
 lor's Enquiry, the Appendix to Blackstone's 
 Commentaries, by Tucker, and Sargeant's Con- 
 stitutional Law. You may now, or after you 
 have entered upon the study of the law, pe- 
 ruse the decisions of the Supreme Court of 
 the United States, on constitutional questions, 
 which will give you an insight into the principles 
 of its construction, and the legal difficulties that 
 have, from time to time, arisen on the subject. 
 To these, must be added " A Comparative View 
 of the Constitutions of the several States," by W. 
 Smith, of South-Carolina, which will close your 
 labours on that head for the present. 
 
 Having completed your course of moral and 
 political philosophy, the next science in order is 
 that of natural and public, or international law, 
 which is equally indispensably to the lawyer, the 
 statesman, and the politician ; and in this, as in 
 the other branches of ethical science, you will find 
 the same fundamental principle to exist, to wit: 
 "live honestly, hurt no body, and render to every 
 one his due." The observance of this precept 
 constitutes the happiness of individuals as well as 
 of nations, and forms the basis of moral science 
 as well as of natural law ; and natural law is the 
 true foundation of what is denominated the laws 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 16" 
 
 of nations ; quod naturalis ratio inter oranes ho- 
 mines constituit, vocatur jus gentium. To the law 
 of nature, therefore, together with that of reve- 
 lation, as being the basis of civil or munici- 
 pal law, which you are hereafter to practise, it 
 is necessary you should pay great attention. 
 You have already read the Offices of Cicero, 
 which may be considered as the first elementary 
 book on this subject, and will serve as an intro- 
 duction to the study you are now to commence, 
 To Cicero must succeed the great restorer of 
 this science, Grotius,* who unfolds its principles 
 and truths with much energy and clearness. 
 Puffendorfft must next be read, and then the fol- 
 lowing authors in the order in which they are 
 given; Burlamaqui,]; Cumberland. § Rutherforth,|j 
 Ward,1T De Wolf,** Martinet Du Ponceau,! j Byn- 
 
 * Grotius on the Rights of War and Peace, 
 
 + Puffendorff on the Laws of Nature and Nations, with Bar- 
 beyraes Notes. 
 
 | Burlaruaqui's Principles of Natural and Political Law 
 
 & Cumberland's Law of Nature. 
 
 || Rutherforth's Institutes. 
 
 IFWard's Foundation and History of the Laws of Nations in 
 Europe. 
 
 **Baron De Wolf's Institutes of the Laws of Nature and Na- 
 tions. 
 
 it Martin's Compendium 
 
 $% Du Ponceau's Translation of 1st B. of BynkershoeK 
 
163 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 kershoek, Chitty,* and Vattel.t The latter may 
 be considered as the text book of the law of na- 
 tions, and being constantly referred to by all, as an 
 authority on questions of this sort, he should be 
 read with great attention; and though, as Hobb'sJ 
 very justly observes, the law of nations is the 
 law of nature, applied to states or nations ; De 
 Wolf and Vattel were the first who thought of 
 treating the latter separately as a law peculiar 
 to nations who are bound by certain moral du- 
 ties and obligations which result from their act 
 of association. On the distinction which exists 
 between the law of nature and nations, some dif- 
 ficulty and considerable disputation have arisen ; 
 Justinian§ has defined the law of nature to be 
 that which nature teaches to all animals, and the 
 law of nations to be that which is common to the 
 whole human family. Other writers not only 
 define them differently, but differ in their opinion 
 as to the origin of the latter; but with due defer- 
 ence to those authors, I cannot think the ques- 
 tion a very difficult one or indeed one of very 
 great moment. I conceive they are alike based 
 on the immutable principles of truth, justice, and 
 
 * Chitty's Law of Nations. 
 t Vattel's Law of nations. 
 $ Hobb's Leviathan. 
 
 # Justinian's Institutes. 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 169 
 
 right; the rules and principles of the one result 
 from natural reason, and those of the other from 
 the common consent of nations : but the max- 
 ims of the one may be applied to the other ; and 
 the rights and duties which nature prescribes 
 are common to both ; " the only difference, as 
 Barbeyrac ob-erves, consisting in the mode of 
 their application, which may be somewhat varied 
 on account of the difference that sometimes hap- 
 pens in the manner in which nations settle their 
 affairs with each other." I cannot, while on this 
 subject, refrain, en passant, from expressing some 
 little surprise, that so few men of genius have 
 written on this branch of science. The laws of 
 nations seem yet to be complicated and unsettled, 
 and the subject, it must be confessed, has not 
 been handled in a manner its importance de- 
 serves, or in a way to render it either very lucid 
 or interesting. 
 
 Connected with the subject of international 
 law, is maritime or admiralty law which, ac- 
 cording to Azuni, " rests on the general basis 
 of the law of nature and nations, on the posi- 
 tive regulations of the conventional law of Eu- 
 rope, and on those usages established by ne- 
 cessity." A knowledge of this branch of legal 
 science is of high importance to the lawyer as 
 P 
 
170 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 well as the politician, and cannot be dispens- 
 ed with ; and, as it is so connected with the pre- 
 ceding subject, it will be better to commence it 
 now than hereafter, for the sake of preserving 
 order in your course. The best, and perhaps 
 the only, elementary work you need now occupy 
 yourself in reading, is Azuni,* who gives a very 
 comprehensive view of maritime jurisprudence, 
 and points out every necessary source of informa- 
 tion on the subject. In addition to this writer, 
 the next work I would recommend at present 
 is the first volume of Rayneval,* who will 
 make you acquainted with the litigated doc- 
 trine of search, contraband, right of blockade, 
 freedom of navigation, &c. ; and hereafter, if it 
 should be found necessary, you can embrace a 
 wider scope of reading, and examine Wheaton's 
 Digest, Brown's Compend, Peter's Admiralty 
 Decisions, &c. To maritime law must suc- 
 ceed the study of that code which has formed 
 the basis, or substratum, of the common or 
 municipal laws and civil constitutions of most 
 of the European nations ; I mean the Corpus 
 Juris Civilis, or body of Roman law, the pro- 
 
 * Azuni on the Maritime Law of Europe. Johnsons Edit 
 t Rayneval dela Liberte des mers. 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 171 
 
 duction of civilization and philosophy, and de- 
 nominated, with much truth, the ratio scripta, 
 or code of written reason. You cannot, if it 
 be your wish to become a statesman or a law- 
 yer, be ignorant of this excellent code. In- 
 deed it is essential, that you, though an Ameri- 
 can, should know it 5 because it furnishes certain 
 axioms and undeviating principles which will 
 hereafter be highly useful in demonstrating the 
 most abstract questions of jurisprudence. A 
 French writer has asserted, with some de- 
 gree of novelty, in relation to this code, " that 
 justice has never fully developed her myste- 
 ries, but to the Roman juris-consults,*' and 
 indeed too much cannot be said of its gene- 
 ral excellence. With the history of this code, 
 Gibbon has already made you acquainted, with 
 his usual ability and eloquence. You have 
 now to examine and study the code itself; 
 from which you will derive great and perma- 
 nent benefit. This body of Roman law is 
 composed of four parts ; the Institutes, the Di- 
 gests or Pandects, the Code and the Novels, 
 and should be studied in the order in which they 
 are given, by those who wish to become well ac- 
 quainted with the science of jurisprudence. But 
 it will not be necessary for you, or any Ameri- 
 can student, to dive thus deeply into the subject; 
 
172 COURSE OF MORAL AND 
 
 your range of reading may be confined to Tay- 
 lor's Elements, part of the first and second vol- 
 umes of Domat's Civil Law, Pothier's Pandects 
 and Obligations,* and Cooper's Institutes of Jus- 
 tinian, which will furnish you with all the know- 
 ledge it may be desirable for you to possess in 
 this science, and smooth your path to the study 
 of the municipal laws of England and America. 
 
 The last science, my dear son, I would re- 
 commend to your attention, before you enter 
 upon your professional studies, is that of polit- 
 ical economy. This has, until very lately I am 
 sorry to say, been almost wholly neglected, 
 and though its importance and usefulness have 
 been long felt and understood by politicians 
 and statesmen in all parts of the civilized world, 
 it has not received that attention it deserves. — 
 In our own country the science of political 
 economy has but just risen from its slumber, 
 and but few ever thought of devoting to it, as 
 a science, any portion of their leisure. It is 
 now beginning, however, as it unquestionably de- 
 serves to be, a very fashionable study in this, as 
 
 * Pothier's Treatise on Obligations is a work of such sterling 
 snerit and usefulness, and such genuine excellence as to deserve 
 not only the particular attention of the lawyer, but of every 
 well-informed member of society. 
 
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 173 
 
 in most parts of the civilized world, and will per- 
 haps soon rival chemistry or botany in the num- 
 ber of its disciples, though it may not in the 
 force of its attractions. I look upon it in the 
 light of a moral science, and as one that is indis- 
 pensable to him who wishes to make a figure, 
 or to be useful in the councils of his country. 
 In this science, however, there are various con- 
 flicting theories which it will perhaps be proper 
 for you to understand, and which you may, with- 
 out much difficulty, master. These theories will 
 be found in the different writers on this subject, 
 to wit : A. Smith,* Lauderdale,! Say.i Ricar- 
 do,§ Malthus.jl Ganilh,^! Tracy,** Foronda,tt 
 and Storch.tJ all of whom you should read, and 
 if practicable, they should be read in the order 
 I have given them. Of Smith's Wealth of Na- 
 
 * Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. 
 
 t Lauderdale's Inquiry into the Nature aud Origin of Public 
 Wealth. 
 
 I Say's Political Economy. 
 § Ricardo's Principles of Political Economy, 
 (j Malthus's Principles of Political Economy. 
 IF Ganilh's Inquiry into the Various Systems of Political 
 Economy. 
 
 ** Detutt Tracy's Treatise on Political Economy. 
 7t Forondo Cartas de la Economia Politica. 
 i% Cours D'Economie Politique, par H. Storch: 
 
 P 2 
 
174 COURSE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 
 
 tions, a work of great labour and ability, you 
 will find an analysis by Joyce, which may serve 
 as a pocket companion, and which will give you 
 the whole essence of that author ; many of whose 
 principles and positions have of late been warm- 
 ly contested. The Essay on Population, by 
 Malthus, is a classic in this science, which must 
 not be neglected, and which will demand much 
 of your reflection ; and though many of his opi- 
 nions, also, have been attacked with some vi- 
 gour and eloquence, they have not yet been 
 shaken, and are not likely, I think, to be ever 
 subverted by a truer or a better hypothesis. 
 
 I have now brought you, my dear son, to the 
 close of your preparatory studies, and thus pre- 
 pared, you will find but few obstacles and impe- 
 diments in your march to eminence, both at the 
 bar and in the senate. You must and will be 
 distinguished and useful, if you have but com- 
 mon powers of mind, in any walk of life you 
 may think proper to choose : for knowledge 
 thus varied and united to genius, cannot fail 
 to give distinction* 
 
 Adieu. 
 
LETTER XII. 
 
 ON A PROPER DIVISION OF TIME, 
 
 My Dear Son: 
 
 There is perhaps nothing more important than 
 a proper and judicious distribution of time : it is by 
 this distribution that your progress in science and 
 general knowledge will be facilitated, and your 
 course of study rendered both more useful and 
 pleasant. Be not alarmed at the apparent mag- 
 nitude of the undertaking; the end is within your 
 reach, and possible to be attained. Remember 
 the maxim of the unfortuuate, but highly gifted, 
 Chatterton, that a man, by abstinence and perse- 
 verance, may accomplish whatever he pleases, 
 and the no less remarkable saying of one of 
 the sages of antiquity, fuA/rs to pay, all things 
 are possible. You must expect to meet with 
 some difficulties, to encounter some obstructions, 
 and to experience some trials ; it is not al- 
 ways that labor est voluptas ; but these you will 
 in time, surmount, and when you have reached 
 the temple of science to which you have directed 
 your exertions, you will look back with astonish^ 
 
176 DIVISION OF TIME. 
 
 ment, that the small obstructions you met with 
 had power to check your career for an instant. 
 
 Possunt quia posse videntur. 
 
 " Every man, 5 ' says Dr. Johnson, " who pro- 
 poses to grow eminent, should carry in his mind 
 at once the difficulty of excellence and the force 
 of industry ; and remember that fame is not con- 
 ferred but as the recompence of labour, and that 
 labour, rigorously continued, has not often failed 
 of its reward." Never cease to reflect that time 
 is precious ; that the loss of a moment is a loss 
 that cannot easily be supplied, and that, while 
 young, to waste your moments in idleness or 
 dissipation, is like casting away your prospects 
 of future fame, usefulness, and felicity — -fugit 
 irreparabile tempus. By ajudicious employment 
 of your time in youth, you will experience its 
 incalculable advantages in maturity and old age, 
 by the range of thought it will give you, and the 
 extent of knowledge )ou will acquire ; I wish you 
 to be studious not only to be eminent in your pro- 
 fession, but useful to society. Knowledge should 
 never be limited ; it is always useful, and will not 
 fail to give you a rank and standing among men 
 of sense, that no other extraneous advantage can 
 or will give. By enlarging your sphere of obser- 
 vation, accumulating sources of information, and 
 
DIVISION OF TIME. 17? 
 
 multiplying your lights on all subjects of hu- 
 man knowledge, it is reasonable to suppose. your 
 ascent to eminence will be less difficult ; your ca- 
 pacity to be useful, more extended, and your 
 sources of enjoyment more diversified and capa- 
 cious. What Cicero required of an orator, I 
 require of a lawyer, to have omnium rerum mag- 
 narum atque artium scientiam. Youth is the pe- 
 riod of improvement ; let it not be neglected or 
 suffered to " run into waste.*' Labour, however 
 irksome at first, will become habitual and plea- 
 sant, and repay you tenfold for the imaginary 
 privations you may suffer, or the loss of sickly 
 and transitory pleasures you may have sustained. 
 It is time enough to commence the practice of law 
 at twenty -five; you need not be too eager to enter 
 upon your professional duties ; be well prepared 
 and grounded before you commence them, and 
 your march will be easy and your path pleasant. 
 It is the misfortune, if not of all, at least of 
 most of the young men of this country, who in- 
 tend to make law their profession, to begin the 
 study and practice too early ; to begin before 
 they have acquired the necessary preparatory in- 
 formation, or obtained that wide scope of know- 
 ledge so eminently calculated to render them dis- 
 tinguished members of the bar. The inevitable 
 consequence of this precipitancy, is at best but a 
 
178 DIVISION OF TIME. 
 
 mere tolerable mediocrity ; while ninety-nine out 
 of a hundred do not reach even that mediocrity, 
 and are seen haunting piazzas, and lounging about 
 taverns asking for business, and dwindling into 
 that degraded species of being which Burke has, 
 with peculiar aptness, denominated "the fomen- 
 ter of village vexation." Avoid, on all occa- 
 sions, the society of the idle, the profligate, and 
 the abandoned : by associating with men of this 
 class, you will not only lose much of your time, 
 but will acquire a moral taint by collision, and 
 habits of extravagance and dissipation, that may 
 lead to the most pernicious and fatal consequences. 
 In your moments of relaxation and leisure, asso- 
 ciate only with the wise and the good, with those 
 quibus vivere est cogitare. You will receive more 
 benefit, and more gratification, from the conver- 
 sation of an hour spent in the company of lite- 
 rary or scientific men, than you would from a life 
 devoted to the society of the ignorant, the profli- 
 gate, and the vicious. In conversation of this 
 kind, knowledge is condensed and concentrated, 
 and you receive, in a short time, what has per- 
 haps required the labour and research of years to 
 obtain. But in this, as in reading, always exam- 
 ine and think for yourself: it is by thinking much, 
 that much is acquired, and not by rushing over 
 the innumerable pages of innumerable volumes. 
 
DIVISION OF TIME. $$&. 
 
 or by hastily, and without reflection, adopting 
 the opinions, or retaining the theories, of the most 
 celebrated and the most wise of those whom you 
 read, or with whom you converse. "Thinking," 
 says Aristotle, " is the business of the gods :" 
 the greatest men have become eminent mainly by 
 this method. "Burke," says a writer in the 
 Quarterly Review, (and every other able thinker) 
 " has been formed not by a parsimonius admea- 
 surement of studies to some definite future ob- 
 ject, but by taking a wide and liberal compass, 
 and thinking a great deal on 'many subjects, with 
 no better end in view, than because the exercise 
 was one which made them more rational and more 
 intelligent beings." " The principal use of read- 
 ing to me," says Montaigne, " is that by vari- 
 ous objects, it rouses my reason and employs my 
 judgment." 
 
 The division of time, like the division of la- 
 bour, is an immense saving, and greatly facilitates 
 one's progress in study. It is inconceivable how 
 much can be acquired, in a short space, by a ju- 
 dicious arrangement of time, and a proper and 
 reiterated application to study. The connexion 
 which exists among the sciences is so close and 
 intimate, that when you know one, you will 
 find but little difficulty in knowing the others : 
 
180 DIVISION OF TIME. 
 
 they not only mutually aid and explain, but they 
 correct each other. " The knowledge derived 
 from them all," says the Reviewer I have already 
 quoted, with great truth, " will amalgamate, and 
 the habits of a mind versed and practised in them, 
 by turns will join to produce a richer vein of 
 thought, and of more general and practical ap- 
 plication, than could be obtained by any single 
 one ; as the fusion of the metals into Corinthian 
 brass gave the artist his most ductile and perfect 
 material." Always remember to proceed in re- . 
 gular order ; never throw too many seeds into 
 the mind at once, lest they should prevent each 
 other from germinating, and do not suffer your- 
 self to be diverted from your course of study by 
 any new work, however high in reputation, be- 
 fore the proper time, lest it should produce, as 
 it will, confusion in the mind, and render your 
 knowledge less solid and perfect. I have, how- 
 ever, no objection to your reading, occasionally, 
 a work of fancy, either in poetry or prose, for 
 the purpose of restoring the tone of your mind, 
 and of relieving the toil of abstract science ; 
 because^ if kept in a state of continued tension, 
 the intellect is apt to lose its power, and to sink 
 into imbecility. But the best relaxation is refin- 
 ed and cheerful society, and gentle exercise. 
 
DIVISION OP TIME. 1 8 I 
 
 the former exhilerates the mind, while the latter 
 invigorates the body. 
 
 I think the following perhaps the best appor- 
 tionment of time you can adopt : give six or eight 
 hours to sleep ; one to devotion and the perusal 
 of religious books ; four to exercise, amusement, 
 and society ; seven to study ; two to Composition, 
 or recording your observations on men and books, 
 and retracing what you have read ; and two to 
 the wants of life. Botany and mineralogy will 
 be found eminently calculated to afford you plea- 
 sant and delightful exercise, as well as exquisite 
 intellectual gratification. Your other studies will, 
 of course, render you more sedentary ; but, 
 while engaged in them, do not neglect to walk or 
 exercise, and amuse yourself, when practicable, 
 in the most agreeable and rational manner you 
 can devise — music, painting, and poetry, will be 
 found to supply the want of many other recrea- 
 tions. 
 
 A sound body is necessary to constitute a sound 
 mind, and a proper attention to diet, and a due 
 degree of exercise, will give this soundness and 
 vigour to the body, and enable you to prosecute 
 your studies with more relish and greater advan- 
 tage. In entering upon your professional studies, 
 
 Q 
 
182 DIVISION OF TIME, 
 
 (and it is better to do this in the office of a law- 
 yer, where you will have the practice united to 
 the theory,) be cautious with whom you asso- 
 ciate, and do not sutler yourself to be led astray 
 by the allurements of pleasure, or the fascinations 
 of the world. Always bear in mind, that there 
 is no solid happiness without virtue, and no true 
 dignity without learning. I wish you not only to 
 be what Cicero defines an orator, vir probus e?i- 
 cendi peritus, but a good man, capable of giving 
 council to, and of defending your oppressed and 
 unfortunate fellow-creatures, when your services 
 shall be demanded. A good character will be of 
 infinite advantage to you in your profession, as 
 well as in ordinary life ; it is, in fact, essential to 
 your success. Be careful then to preserve it as 
 unstained and spotless as the virgin snow ; and, 
 whatever may be attempted by petty envy, or 
 malignant calumny, it will still beam on the sur- 
 rounding world, like the glorious effulgence of 
 the sun, after having been for a time darkened 
 by the interposition of another planet. Avoid, I 
 beseech you, while at the bar, the paltry sophis- 
 try, the low tricks, and the despicable chicanery, 
 which are too often resorted to by men of that 
 profession ; they only defeat themselves, ren- 
 der those who practice them insignificant and 
 contemptible, finally, destroy all confidence in 
 
DIVISION OF TIME. 183 
 
 their probity, and beget distrust, detestation, and 
 neglect. 
 
 Before I close my numerous, but, I trust, not 
 unpleasant letters of instruction,! would admon- 
 ish you, while pursuing the course of legal read- 
 ing that will be pointed out by the person 
 whose office you may enter, always to compare 
 and examine for yourself; to consult the author- 
 ities which may be referred to, and retain the 
 principles that are intended to be illustrated and 
 established. You will thus make yourself ac- 
 quainted with jurisprudence as a science, be 
 able to develope its intricacies, trace its mazes, 
 and apply its principles to the various sources of 
 litigation and dispute ; and your mass of previous 
 acquirements can be brought to play upon its 
 details, and be made to give to them a luminous- 
 ness and beauty at once elevating, instructive, 
 and delightful. With the torch of science, the 
 law, like some of the celebrated grottoes of Eu- 
 rope, enveloped in darkness and gloom at their 
 entrance, will unfold a spectacle of magnificence 
 and splendour, and render your professional ca- 
 reer glorious, profitable, lofty, and gratifying. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
A MEMOIR 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Domestic or Private Lives of the Romans, 
 
 —— »e»©|0!®®«* 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 My Dear Sou : 
 
 You tell me you have just completed your 
 course of ancient history, and have been par- 
 ticularly pleased with that of Rome. I am not 
 in the least surprised at this preference, though 
 Greece has* in the minds of many, stronger 
 claims to interest. Italy has indeed, from first 
 to last, been a wonderful nation, and the enthu- 
 siasm and sorrow her melancholy story excites, 
 will I am sure be felt while the world remains. 
 Every thing, therefore, appertaining to a coun- 
 try, once so illustrious and still so dear to the 
 recollections of man, must possess an interest w 
 are unable, if we were willing, to subdue. An 
 admirer of the Roman people is not satisfied with 
 the bare recital of their national greatness and 
 misfortunes, of their heroism, their virtues and 
 their vices ; he wishes to follow them into their 
 Q 2 
 
186 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 secret recesses, to become acquainted with their 
 private actions, manners, and customs, and to see 
 them in all the attitudes of life. It will be my 
 business, my dear son, in the following letters to 
 furnish you with some portion of this information 
 in as brief a manner as the nature of the subject 
 will admit, and to give you a true picture of the 
 private life of those men in whose calamities you 
 feel so warm a comrnisseration, and for whose 
 character you entertain so strong a predilection. 
 
 I will begin with the division of time among 
 the Romans, that you may see how each portion 
 was employed by that extraordinary people.—- 
 The day and night were each divided into twelve 
 hours, a method originally borrowed from the Ba- 
 bylonians, who communicated it to the Greeks 
 and the Greeks to the Romans. This unequal di- 
 vision which made the hours of the day longer 
 than those of the night, in summer, and shorter 
 than those of the night in winter, was introduced 
 in the year of Rome 460, and continued till the 
 reign of Adrian, when a more correct distribu- 
 tion was established. The day was again subdi- 
 vided into four parts, and the night into four 
 watches. The first part comprehended the 
 three first hours of the morning, the second the 
 next three, corresponding with our noon, the 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 187 
 
 third embraced from twelve to three, and the 
 tourth and last from three to six, or the setting 
 of the sun, which completed their twelve hours. 
 Their watches were arranged so as to corres- 
 pond with the twelve hours of night, like the 
 parts of the day ; the first watch commencing at 
 sun set, and the last terminating at sunrise. 
 
 You will understand that, in the following ac- 
 count of the private life of the Romans, I do 
 not mean to include that of the idle and the 
 dissipated, of the youth, thoughtless of the fu- 
 ture, or the aged, disgusted with the present, 
 but to speak of those who divided their time 
 between public duties and salutary recreation, 
 and whose occupations tended alike to the 
 service of the state, and to the amusement of 
 their private hours. The manners and cus- 
 toms of men are chiefly fashioned by their 
 occupations : Among the Romans, agriculture 
 became, at an early period, a general employ- 
 ment, and was highly honoured and respected 
 during the reign of their kings, and the ex- 
 istence of their republic. It was from among 
 this class, you will recollect, Cincinnatus, At- 
 tilus, Dentatus, &c. sprang, and it was to the 
 fields they were indebted for their most distin- 
 guished patriots and statesmen. Romulus him- 
 
188 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 self held agriculture in such high estimation, that 
 he instituted twelve priests, called arvales, from 
 arva, the fields, whose business it was to offer to 
 the gods the first fruits of the earth, and to so- 
 licit an increased abundance ; and Ancus Martius 
 recommended to the people, as next to religion 
 in importance, the culture of the soil and the 
 care of their flocks. The most illustrious names 
 In Roman history were given in consequence of an 
 excellence their possessors had attained in the 
 art of raising particular cattle, or of cultivating 
 particular plants.* In the country no distinction 
 existed, and the titles of nobles and plebeians, 
 which prevailed in the city, were merged in the 
 general name of labourer. In those ages of sim- 
 plicity, the Romans were all labourers, and the 
 labourers all soldiers. It is to this union the fine 
 sentiment of patriotism and virtue, so frequent- 
 ly displayed in their history, may be ascribed ; 
 because, as Cicero justly observes, a country life 
 may be regarded as the school of simplicity, 
 temperance, and justice. This simple and mor- 
 al life produced by agricultural occupations, con- 
 tinued until the introduction of luxury into the 
 state, that bane of national and individual virtue. 
 The extension of their empire by conquest led 
 them to adopt the vices, and to practise the fool* 
 
 * As Lentulus, Piso, Cicero, Cincinnatus, Serranus., &c* 
 
LIVES OT THE ROMANS. 189 
 
 eries, of the nations they had conquered. Sim- 
 plicity gave way to magnificence and splendour, 
 palaces were erected, and the most brilliant 
 dresses, the richest viands, and the most costly 
 and beautiful furniture were sought for and pro- 
 cured. Even their religious worship was tainted 
 by the general extravagance and corruption which 
 now prevailed, and instead of offering up their 
 adoration to the gods in the former simplicity of 
 their hearts, and according to the lowliness of 
 its original institution, they spared no expense in 
 erecting temples, which they filled with the finest 
 images and statues,* and seemed to try how far 
 they could carry the pomp and grandeur of their 
 ceremonies. Asia, conquered by Rome, conquer- 
 ed Rome in turn, by the vices she communicated, 
 the wealth she bestowed, and the taste for re- 
 finement and pleasure she infused. From the 
 rich and the great this moral distemper descend- 
 ed ; and among the lower ranks of society, in- 
 dustry was despised, frugality scorned, and the 
 hours of the day which had formerly been occu- 
 
 * Numa, according to Plutarch, prohibited the Romans from 
 representing the Deity in any corporal shape, as not being an 
 object of sense or liable to passion, but invisible, incorruptiblej 
 and discernable only by the mind. For the first 170 years,, 
 therefore, no images were admitted into the temples. 
 
190 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 pied in some useful pursuit, were now spent in 
 indolence and pleasure. 
 
 After these few preliminary remarks, 1 will 
 proceed to show you how those citizens spent 
 their lives, who as I have already stated, divided 
 their time between their public duties and pri- 
 vate amusements, because of such only do 1 think 
 it necessary to speak. This class of Romans, 
 therefore, devoted the first hour of the day, com- 
 mencing at sunrise, to the duties of religion — a 
 custom which should be followed by all nations 
 anxious to preserve their happiness and virtue. 
 It is a duty we owe, my dear son, to the God who 
 made us, to offer him our first thoughts, and so- 
 licit his aid and protection through the day. 
 
 Falsely luxurious will not man awake 
 And springing from the bed of sloth enjoy 
 The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
 To meditation due and sacred song. 
 
 The temples, at this period of the day, were 
 open to all : those who went tendered to the 
 gods their vows and adorations, and those who 
 did not go, discharged their religious duties in 
 their private chambers, by sacrifices and offer- 
 ings. The latter was generally pursued by the 
 rich and the great, and we find that Severus had 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 191 
 
 a chapel in his palace, where he had placed the 
 statues of the good emperors, with those of his 
 ancestors, and of Jesus Christ, Abraham, and Or- 
 pheus, whom he equally honoured and worship- 
 ed. The services of the morning were dedi- 
 cated to the celestial, and those of the evening 
 to the infernal gods. The multiplicity of their 
 wants, the number of gods who represented 
 those wants, and to whom they addressed them- 
 selves for assistance, and the ceremonies with 
 which their devotions were accompanied, often 
 prolonged their time beyond the first hour of the 
 day. These devotional exercises were very for- 
 mal and regular : the priest with his head veiled, 
 to prevent the sight of evil omens, stood erect in 
 the temple with a book in his hand, and pro- 
 nounced the prayers of each in the order they 
 were to be recited. In pronouncing their pray- 
 ers, they put their hand to their mouth, and ad- 
 vanced towards the images of their deities whose 
 altars they touched, and whose knees they em- 
 braced, because the knees were considered as 
 the seat of piety. These religious duties were 
 terminated by making an entire circle ; but they 
 never seated themselves until they had recited 
 the whole of their prayers, lest they should be 
 considered as deficient in respect to the gods. 
 The services of religion, however, did not oc* 
 
192 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 cupy the attention of all, and those early hours 
 of the morning were employed by many in pro- 
 moting their own interests, by paying court to 
 the great. Romulus had introduced into the 
 state a division of ranks which he afterwards en- 
 deavoured to unite by a kind of reciprocal de- 
 pendence, and mutual interest. Every plebeian 
 selected his patrician, or patron, of whom he be- 
 came, what was then denominated, a client. 
 These patricians stood, in the place of a fa- 
 ther, whose duty it was to watch over the 
 welfare of their clients ; to guard them from y 
 imposition and oppression ; and, in short, to 
 act for them in all respects as a parent would 
 act for his children. In return for these fa- 
 vours, they were obliged to render their pa- 
 trons every service in their power, and to give 
 them personal and pecuniary aid whenever their 
 necessites should require it. In process of time, 
 when Rome became more polite and polished, and 
 the distinction between poverty and wealth had 
 become much more marked, tho' the same usage 
 remained, the same feelings no longer existed, 
 and what was in its original institution, a contin- 
 ued reciprocity of good offices on the part, both 
 of the protector and the protected, became, in 
 the end, a fashionable ceremony, in which the 
 pride and haughtiness of the one, and the baseness 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 193 
 
 sycophancy, and adulation of the other, were 
 equally manifested. Those who were or wished 
 to appear attached to persons of distinction, 
 thought it their duty to visit them about the time 
 of rising, and bid them good morning. » The citizen 
 paid this duty to the magistrate, the magistrate 
 to those in higher authority, and these again to 
 others still more elevated. Thus they ran about 
 the city, from house to house, bidding its in- 
 mates good day, till the first hours of the morn- 
 ing were consumed ; and they had no further 
 visits to pay. You are perhaps curious to know 
 how this morning duty was performed, and what 
 were the dress and ceremonies employed on 
 those occasions. In my next I will endeavour 
 to satisfy you. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 R 
 
LETTER II. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 The salutations of the morning, which I men- 
 tioned in my last, were made in a white robe, 
 called the toga alba ff this robe was a dress of 
 ceremony, and peculiar to the Romans. It was 
 semi-circular in its form, and served as a cover 
 to the head, to shelter it from the rain and sun. 
 In saluting their patrons, the clients used a ce- 
 remony somewhat similar to that employed in 
 their religious duties. They advanced towards 
 those they were to salute, touched their mouth 
 with the hand, and uncovered their head as a 
 
 * The logawas a woolen robe which covered the whole body; 
 close at the bottom, open at the top, and without sleeves — it 
 was white, and worn only by Roman citizens. This robe had 
 various denominations according to its colour, and the age and 
 rank of the wearer, viz : the toga alba ; toga pulla, or atra } 
 used in mourning ; toga prcetexla, being bordered with purple, 
 and worn by magistrates, priests, and young men under seven- 
 teen years of age ; toga picta, orpalmata, worn by triumphant 
 generals ; toga virilis, or pura, worn by young men above se- 
 venteen years of age. Besides the toga, the Romans wore a 
 white woolen vest, called tunica, which was placed below the 
 toga, and fastened round the waist by a girdle, which kept it 
 tight, and which also served as a purse. In the latter ages of 
 Rome, a kind of surtout was thrown over the toga, called la- 
 cerna, which was fastened with clasps, but was finally lard 
 aside by order of Augustus* 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 195 
 
 mark of respect to the patron, whom they con- 
 sidered themselves bound to honour and obey.— 
 All this, however, was done without any inclina- 
 tion of the body, or any genuflexion whatever, 
 which was deemed, till long after the ruin of 
 the republic, degrading to the dignity of a Ro- 
 man citizen. It was the custom of these citi- 
 zens, who assembled to perform the ceremony 
 of salution, to meet in the vestibule of the pa- 
 tron, which was usually ornamented with the 
 statues and busts of his ancestors. Here they 
 amused themselves till he had arisen and exhi- 
 bited himself to them; or, till they understood 
 it was not his wish to receive them. If, how- 
 ever, he left the house publicly, they flocked 
 around his carriage or litter, displaying the ut« 
 most zeal, and using every exertion to convince 
 him of their respect and attention.* This could 
 not but be highly gratifying to his feelings, and 
 must have added not a little to the indulgence of 
 his vanity. The daily recurrence of these morn- 
 ing levees, ^called by Pliny, officio ante lucana 
 were no doubt very troublesome to the vi- 
 
 * Those who openly favoured candidates, were distinguished 
 by the names of salutatores, deductores, and seclatores. The 
 first saluted them in the morning, and took their leave ; the 
 second accompanied them to the forum, and the third attended 
 them wherever they went, 
 
196 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 sitors as well as the visited, and we find the 
 epigramatist Martial, complaining that he had 
 called five mornings in succession at the house 
 of a Roman knight, and had not the pleasure 
 of seeing him. "I see," says he, "how it is; 
 Oh, Afer ! you do not wish to receive my 
 salutation of long life to you, so I bid you die, and 
 farewell."* You will easily perceive, my dear 
 son, that this usage had a tendency to beget ser- 
 vility and baseness on the one side, and pride and 
 splendour on the other ; and, towards the decline 
 of the Roman Empire, you may discover this 
 originally simple and virtuous ceremony, assum- 
 ing a character of magnificence, calculated, in^ 
 deed ? to gratify the rich and great, but at the 
 same time, to corrupt, delight, and astonish the 
 lower orders of society. To make it more strik- 
 ing and splendid, the patron or lord exhibited him- 
 self, as a spectacle in every part of the city, with 
 a numerous retinue of litter-carriers 5 t preceded 
 
 * Martial, Lib. 9. Ep. 8, 
 
 f The Sellae & lecticae were chairs or sedans sometimes open 
 and sometimes covered. The sellae had a small pillow, and 
 the lectioae^ a mattress to recline upon. They were carried 
 by slaves dressed in a dark or red penula, and borne on their 
 necks or shoulders ; the number of slaves varied from two to 
 eight. The lecticae had four feet to support it,~ which were some- 
 times made of wood, and sometimes of silver or gold. They 
 were introduced towards the end of the republic* 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 197 
 
 and followed by slaves, freedmen,* and clients ; 
 and all who pleased to attend, were compensat- 
 ed, that the crowd might be more numerous and 
 imposing. Avarice and poverty caused even 
 those in the higher ranks of life, also to appear 
 and swell the retinue of the great ; for which, 
 as a reward, they received provisions and money, 
 called sporhda, from the basket in which they 
 were delivered at the door, to the client. Juve- 
 nal has severely animadverted on these harpies, 
 who seized thus greedily upon the bounty, which 
 it was customary to bestow on the poor, 
 
 " But since our knights and senators account 
 To what their sordid begging vails amount, 
 
 * Slaves and freedmen. The former were made so by being 
 taken in war, by way of punishment, or by being born so. — 
 The master had an absolute power over them, and could either 
 scourge or put them to death at pleasure. 
 
 Freedmen were of three kinds : 1st, Such as were born 
 free, (ingenui.) 2ndly. Such as were bom of parents that had 
 been made free, (libertini. ) And, 3rdly, such as had been freed, 
 er had made themselves free, (liberti.) Slaves were freed in 
 three ways, per censum, per vi?idictum, and per testamentum. 
 They were manumitted in the following manner : The master 
 placing his hands upon the slave's head, said to the consul or 
 praetor, "I wish this man to be free," e rnanu emittere. The 
 praetor laid his rod upon his head, and pronounced him free. 
 A cap was then given to the slave in token of liberty, and 
 his name entered upon record. 
 R 2 
 
198 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 Judge, what a wretched share the poor attends, 
 
 Whose whole subsistence, on those alms depends: 
 
 Their house-hold fire, their raiment, and their foodj 
 
 Prevented by those harpies ; when a wood 
 
 Of litters thick, beseige the donor's gate, 
 
 And begging lords and teeming ladies wait 
 
 The promis'd dole. 7 '* Dryden. 
 
 These duties of religion and morning saluta- 
 tions, of which we have been speaking, generally 
 consumed the two first hours of the day. But 
 though these were the occupations of the ma- 
 jority, they were not those of the entire mass 
 of Roman citizens. Men of letters, merchants, 
 and persons of business, employed those hours 
 in a manner which they conceived more condu- 
 cive to their interest, amusement, and edifica- 
 tion. The third hour was ususlly spent in busi- 
 ness, except when religion had consecrated the 
 day to repose, or the comitiat or general assem- 
 bly, claimed their attendance. u The third 
 hour," says Martial,! u is occupied by brawling 
 
 * Juvenal—Sat. 1, 90. 
 
 i The Comitia was a general assembly of the people, and was 
 of three kinds : the curiata, instituted by Romulus when he 
 divided the people into thirty curiae ; the cenluriata, instituted 
 t?y Servius Tullius, who divided the people into one hundred 
 and ninety-three centuries, and the tributa, also instituted by 
 Romulus, when he divided the people into tribes., 
 
 % Martial, Book iv. Ep. 8 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 199 
 
 pleaders," but whenever a trial occurred, those 
 who were neither pleaders, advocates, judges, 
 nor parties, attended from curiosity as spectators 
 and auditors ; and according to Cicero, during 
 the existence of the republic, the people assem- 
 bled to set on the judges themselves. These 
 trials were held in different places, sometimes in 
 the temples, sometimes in the basiliccej but 
 most frequently in the forum.\ On those oc- 
 casions a numerous concourse assembled, influ- 
 enced by various motives, some came as parties, 
 some to assist the parties, and others from mere 
 curiosity and pleasure. The eloquence of the 
 public speakers drew around them then, as it 
 
 t The basilica were large and spacious halls, erected around 
 the forum, and designed for the judges, centumviri, to determine 
 causes, and for the lawyers to receive clients. They were adorn- 
 ed with columns and porticos, and were very magnificent. 
 These basilicse from their shape, were afterwards easily con- 
 verted into christian churches, and have long been used for that 
 purpose. 
 
 \Forum Romanum. This was a large oblong open space 
 between the Capitoline and Palatine Hills, and surrounded 
 with arched porticos, basilicse, temples, theatres, &c. In this 
 and other fora the assemblies of the people were held, justice 
 was administered, and public business transacted. There was 
 but one forum under the republic, Julius and Augustus Csesar 
 added two others, and Domitian began a fourth, which was 
 completed by Nerva. The most splendid one, however) was 
 that built by Trajan. 
 
200 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 does now, crowds of people eager to have their 
 ears charmed, their passions roused, and their 
 feelings gratified, by the powers of the orator. 
 If the cause were of a public nature, a still great- 
 er crowd collected, because each citizen con- 
 ceived himself interested in the public weal, and 
 in the issue of the trial. This interest resulted 
 from the circumstance, that the provinces were 
 considered as the inheritances of the Roman peo- 
 ple, from which, as from a patrimonial estate, 
 they drew their support and maintenance. — 
 When, therefore, a proconsul or prsetor was to be 
 arraigned and tried for peculation or fraud, the 
 citizens assembled in great numbers, and by 
 their presence stimulated the judges to perform 
 their duty with fidelity, and without bias. But 
 when no public business was to be transacted, 
 and no public criminals or defaulters were to be 
 tried, a circumstance, which by the way, rarely 
 occured, after the Roman Empire had been en- 
 larged by territorial acquisitions, the Citizens still 
 repaired to their usual haunts to discuss the con- 
 duct of their magistrates, whom they freely cen- 
 sured or applauded according to their merits or 
 defects. " In those days of liberty," says Taci- 
 tus, " actions alone were punished, and not 
 words ;" and this remnant of their freedom con- 
 tinued till the reigu ot the brutal and savage Ti- 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 201 
 
 berius, who, to prevent all inquiry into his own 
 turpitude, made words, dropt in thoughtlessness 
 or in the confidence of friendship as criminal as 
 actions. Horace speaks of another mode of 
 spending the early hours of the day, when no 
 subjects occurred in the city of Rome for discus- 
 sion. News then as now, was eagerly sought for; 
 and, as great interest was felt in the affairs of the 
 provinces, the citizens were anxious to know 
 every thing that happened in them. Thus 
 speaks Horace: 
 
 *' Should any rumour without head 
 Or tail, about the streets be spread 
 Who ever meets me gravely nods 
 And says, " as you approach the gods 
 It is no mystery to you 
 What do the Dacians mean to do? 
 Indeed I know not. " How you joke 
 "And love to sneer at simple folk !'' 
 But vengeance seize this head of mine 
 If I have heard or can divine. 
 Then, prithee, where are Caesar's bands 
 AJlotted their debenture lands ?'* 
 
 Francis Horace. 
 
 On other occasions, when a distinguished ma- 
 gistrate arrived from any of the provinces, the 
 Roman citizens hastened from the city to meet 
 and conduct him to his dwelling, and thus show 
 him all the respect and attention in their power* 
 This was also done, when a magistrate departed 
 
202 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 from the city to govern a province, or take com- 
 mand of an army ; and when a friend was going 
 into a strange country, either on business or for 
 improvement, they usually accompanied him 
 as far as they could, to soften the miseries of de- 
 parture ; and before they left him offered, in his 
 presence, prayers to the gods for his safe and 
 speedy return. If it were known that an illus- 
 trious exile had been recalled, and was on his way 
 home, they likewise hastened to meet him with 
 the same degree of eagerness, that some repara- 
 tion might be made for the injustice and injury he 
 had sustained. The celebrated Cicero informs 
 us that when he returned from the exile into 
 which he had been driven by the tyranny and 
 fears of his enemies, the whole road from Brun- 
 dusium to Rome, was lined with people from all 
 parts of Italy, to pay him respect, and to evince 
 the pleasure and delight they felt at his return. 
 "Rome herself," says he very poetically, "seem- 
 ed almost to start from her foundations, that she 
 might advance to embrace her preserver. And 
 such was'the reception she gave me that not on- 
 ly men and women of all kinds, ages, and ranks, 
 of every fortune, and of every place; but even 
 the walls, the dwellings, and the temples of the 
 city, seemed to wear an expression of joy. "* 
 
 * Cicero's oration against Piso. 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 203 
 
 Those who were otherwise disposed, and not 
 quite so indolent, employed themselves different- 
 ly according to their respective ranks and situ- 
 ations in life. The knights were engaged in re- 
 gistering treaties and contracts ; and candidates! 
 for offices of honour and profit, in soliciting 
 votes. The latter passed through the most pub- 
 lic parts of the city, and were accompanied by 
 their relations, friends, and clients, and even by 
 senators and magistrates of the highest rank, who 
 recommended them to all they met. On the 
 part of such as were soliciting office, it was ne- 
 cessary to be extremely circumspect and polite 
 to those on whom they depended for elevation. 
 To those who were gifted with extraordinary 
 powers of memory, it was not difficult to call ev- 
 ery one they met familiarly by name ; but as this 
 could not be done by all, it was usual for per- 
 
 f They were so called from a white robe (toga Candida) 
 which they wore. Cicero says they endeavoured to gain the 
 favour of the people by going round the houses, by shaking 
 hands with those they met, and by addressing them in a kind 
 and tender manner. In addition to the nomenclators, the can- 
 didates were accompanied by persons, called dednctores who 
 were dependents and friends, by those called divisores, from 
 their dividing money among the people, by those called inter- 
 pretes, who bargained with the people for their votes, and by 
 those denominated sequestres, who held the money promised to 
 to the people. 
 
204, DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 sons to walk on the left of the candidates, call- 
 ed nomenclators, who named to them such as 
 passed, that they might thus be furnished with 
 their names, and sirnames, without being obliged 
 to burden their memory with them. 
 
 The place where the third, fourth, and fifth, 
 hours of the day were generally spent, was in 
 the great square or forum , which was ornamented 
 with shops, basilicas, porticos, and other edifices, 
 erected for the public convenience, and for the 
 despatch of public business. 
 
 There, as might be expected, the Roman peo- 
 ple often assembled as to a place of general ren- 
 dezvous, and passed the time in conversation, 
 caresses, and protestations of friendship and ser- 
 vice. Into this society young men were not ad- 
 mitted, till they had attained the age of seven- 
 teen, when they assumed the toga virilis, or 
 manly robe, and were thence forward consider- 
 ed as members of the state. This ceremony, 
 also, was attended with a festival, and of course 
 consumed some time. At the end of the ban- 
 quets, or repasts, which were given on those oc- 
 casions, the toga pretexta, or purple bordered 
 robe, was removed, and the toga virilis put on; 
 the familjj kindred, and friends of the youth then 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 205 
 
 accompanied him to the capitol to offer to the 
 gods sacrifices and prayers as the first fruits of 
 manhood ; after which they conducted him to 
 the public square, and introduced him to the 
 people as a citizen and a man. He was now 
 considered as belonging to the state, and could 
 enter into any business, either public or pri- 
 vate, as his inclination might lead him. 
 
 These various pursuits and occupations em- 
 ployed the Roman people till the sixth hour, 
 which corresponds with our mid-day or twelve 
 o'clock ; they then returned to their dwellings to 
 dine,* where they afterwards reposed from the 
 fatigues and services of the morning, and where 
 I must now leave them for the present. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 * This meal was called prandium, and was very light and 
 easily prepared. There was no formality observed at this 
 meal, it was taken alone or in company, standing or sitting. 
 
LETTER III. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 I have endeavoured to show you, in the 
 preceding letters, how the first six hours of the 
 day were spent by the Romans in the different 
 periods of their government ; and though 1 have 
 been intentionally brief, I believe I have omitted 
 nothing that was interesting or important. I 
 must now request you to accompany me through 
 the remainder of the day, which I will strive to 
 make as agreeable to you as possible. 
 
 The hours which succeeded dinner, were usu- 
 ally spent in whatever conduced to amusement, 
 relaxation, or pleasure. During the existence 
 of the republic, the first six hours of the day 
 were consecrated, by those who devoted them- 
 selves to the service of their country, or the 
 benefit of their family, to labour and the drud- 
 gery of business. Some few, indeed, extended 
 the period of labour, even to the tenth hour, or 
 our four o'clock : But such instances were rare, 
 and were only exhibited by virtuous magistrates, 
 who devoted themselves to the care of the pub- 
 lic welfare, or by zealous orators who conceiv- 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 207 
 
 ed themselves responsible for the safety of those 
 whose defence they had undertaken. The great 
 mass, however, pursued nothing but what might 
 afford them tranquil pleasure, or rational amuse- 
 ment, or what would conduce to the health and 
 exercise of the body, or the relaxation or delight 
 of the mind. The principal amusements of the 
 Romans, during the after part of the day, or 
 from dinner to supper-time, consisted in walking, 
 bathing, and in various innocent and healthy 
 games and exercises. The first of these was a 
 favourite recreation and amusement at all pe- 
 riods of the Roman republic : In the early ages 
 when simplicity held the place of magnificence, 
 the stream and the grove were the -usual haunts 
 of those who wished to relax the mind, or to in- 
 vigorate the body. This exercise was most 
 commonly performed on foot, but sometimes it 
 was taken in a litter or carriage ; hence the one 
 was denominated ambulation and the other ges- 
 tatio. To the Romans, as well as to all other 
 people whose feelings have not been corrupted 
 by too much luxury and refinement, nature pre- 
 sented an aspect of loveliness and beauty, and 
 the babbling brook, the verdant landscape, the 
 dark and solemn grove,and all the charms of wood- 
 land and mountain scenery, were in a high degree 
 relished and admired. The temperate climate, 
 
208 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 the warm sky, and the rich and varied landscapes 
 which Italy has always presented, it may easily 
 be imagined, did not tend to lessen their love of 
 what was beautiful, either in nature or art. And 
 the promenade which, while it gratified the sen- 
 ses, invigorated the body, could not but be a 
 source of high satisfaction and delight to men 
 thus placed in a region of beauty, and thus gifted 
 with deep sensibility and feeling. But as they 
 advanced in wealth and refinement, the simplici- 
 ty of nature, began to lose its charms ; a love of 
 magnificence and splendour took possession of 
 the mind, and instead of the grove and the lawn, 
 beautiful and spacious porticos, and galleries or 
 covered walks were erected, for public use or 
 private convenience in which all who pleased 
 might exercise themselves in walking. These 
 porticos, or galleries, built at great expense, and 
 with uncommon elegance, were sometimes join- 
 ed to public edifices, such as temples, thea- 
 tres, &c. and sometimes to private buildings or 
 palaces. They consisted of one or more rows of 
 marble columns, which most frequently supported 
 superb and magnificent arches or vaults, and 
 were adorned and beautified with the finest sta- 
 tues, paintings, and other productions of art, that 
 could be obtained. The sides contained a num- 
 ber of windows, which were shut with a pre- 
 
LIVES OF vTHE ROMANS. 209 
 
 cious stone, the lapis specularis, more transpa. 
 rent than glass, and which in summer, were 
 opened to the north to admit the breeze, and in 
 winter to the south to let in the sun. The rich, 
 after the conquest of Carthage, laboured to tran- 
 scend each other in the splendour of these edi- 
 fices, and you will find the poets and the histori- 
 ans alike complaining of the prevalence of this 
 passion. 
 
 Balnea sexcentis et pluris Porticus, in qua 
 Gestetur dominus quoties pluit anne serenum 
 Expectet, spargatve luto jumenta recenti ? 
 
 Juvenal, sat: 7. 
 
 On sumptuous baths, the rich their wealth bestow, 
 Or some expensive airy Portico ; 
 
 Where safe from showers, they may be borne in state; 
 And, free from tempests, for fair weather wait. 
 
 Driden". 
 
 Of these porticos the most extensive and mag- 
 nificent were those of Pompey, Augustus, and Ne- 
 ro; that of Pompey was considered the coolest 
 and most pleasant walk in the whole city, and 
 was thence denominated by the poets Pompia 
 umbra. The Portico which Augustus erected 
 around the temple of Apollo was supported on 
 columns of porphyry, and ornamented with the 
 statues of the fifty daughters of Danaus — and the 
 most exquisite paintings of the first masters— and 
 S2 
 
^10 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 those of Nero were each 3,000 paces long, and 
 from that circumstance called portions milliarim* 
 Besides these, there was almost an infinite number 
 of others, both public and private, which served 
 to adorn the city and to render the people luxu- 
 rious and effeminate. It would not be at all ha- 
 zardous to assert that the wealth which had been 
 acquired by the plunder of the world, and which 
 was thus squandered upon ornamental and magnifi- 
 cent structures, was the prime cause of the decay 
 and ultimate ruin of the Roman empire. For as 
 jFrancis very justly remarks, the excesses of ex- 
 travagance and luxury, to which it led, vitiated 
 the minds, corrupted the understanding, and broke 
 the resolution of a people not less glorious for 
 their spirit of liberty, than for their conquest of 
 the world. 
 
 In these charming and delightful retreats, the 
 first hours of the afternoon were usually spent by 
 those who liked the exercise of walking, or who 
 delighted in the pleasures of rational or amusing 
 conversation. The Athenians, too, you will recol- 
 
 *The Romans had besides their private porticos attached to 
 sheir houses in the city and country, subterranean porticos or 
 grottos to cool themselves in the summer— which were called 
 Crypto porticus, 
 
 ^Francis" 1 Horace note Lib: 2 Ode 15. 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 211 
 
 lect, took great pleasure in these walks or porti- 
 cos, which they called stoa — and in which one of 
 their Philosophers, Zeno, established his schools, 
 whose disciples were from that circumstance, af- 
 terwards called stoics. 
 
 If in those walks conversation began to lag or 
 grow fatiguing, another resource was at hand in 
 the splendid and extensive libraries connected 
 with the porticos or covered galleries, of which I 
 have been speaking.* To those the literary and 
 
 *Libraries. These were very numerous— both public and 
 private, and consisted of volumina or rolls of parchment, which 
 gave rise to our word volume. These volumes were composed 
 of several sheets united together, and rolled upon a stick, called 
 •umbilicus. This stick only was to be handled. The outside 
 of the volume was called/rtm?, and the ends of the stick, horns, 
 which were handsomely carved and adorned with silver, ivory, 
 and sometime gold, and precious stones. The whole volume 
 when extended was often fifty yards long, and one and an half 
 yards wide. The most ancient material for writing, according 
 to Pliny, was palm leaves ; the inner bark of a tree was af- 
 terwards used, called Viber by the Latins, and (3t(3\os by the 
 Greeks. There was another mode of writing used among the 
 ancients, which was to write on tables of wood, covered with 
 wax. On these they wrote with a bodkin or style of iron, from 
 which our word style is derived. The next material employed, 
 was the Egyptian papyrus, which superseded all others for 
 a time, till Eumenes, king of Pergamus, introduced the per 
 gamena or parchment, which continued to be used, until paper 
 was invented. 
 
212 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 scientific lounger resorted, when tired with walk- 
 ing, and employed his moments of leisure in 
 study, reading, or literary conversation. In 
 the collection of books many of the wealthy 
 Romans were as curious and liberal as the mod- 
 ern literati or bibliopole — and certainly more 
 generous in the use to which they applied them. 
 Lucullus is said to have collected, at a vast ex- 
 pense, a large library of the finest copies of the 
 most valuable works which, according to Plu- 
 tarch, was thrown open to all — and to which the 
 Greeks resorted as to a retreat of the muses, and 
 spent entire days in moral, philosophical, and 
 literary disputation. 
 
 The Roman youths, and those who felt the 
 vigour of manhood, instead of strolling through 
 the spacious porticos, and enjoying the peaceful 
 pleasures they afforded, spent the hours of the 
 afternoon in the Campus Martius, and in those 
 exercises that were calculated to render them 
 more vigorous and better fitted for the painful du- 
 ties of a military life. It was there they learnt 
 to handle the spear and the bow — to manage the 
 horse — to fling the quoit— and to practise all the 
 other gymnastics that could gratify the youthful 
 mind, or give vigour and activity to the human 
 body. Of those shorts or games the most common, 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 213 
 
 as well as the most ancient, was the Troja or Lu- 
 cius Trojce ascribed to Ascanius, the son of iEne- 
 as* which consisted of various and difficult evolu- 
 tions on horse-back, intended to prepare the 
 youth for more important and dangerous contests 
 when called out in the defence of their country. 
 Virgil thus finely describes this exercise : 
 
 l( At once they start and spur with artful speed, 
 Till in the troops the little chiefs divide 
 The close battalion : then at once they turn 
 Commanded back ; while from their fingers borne 
 Their hostile darts aloft upon the wind 
 Fly shivering: then in circling numbers join'd 
 The manag'd coursers with due measures bound, 
 And run the rapid ring and trace the mazy round. 1 ' 
 
 It has been conjectured, with a great deal of 
 probability that these sports give rise to the justs 
 and tournaments of the days of chivalry — and 
 from their striking resemblance in almost every 
 particular, we cannot but believe the one an imi- 
 tation of the other. This exhibition of juvenile 
 dexterity and skill often attracted, during the 
 hours of which I am now speaking, the more aged 
 citizens of Rome who felt greater pleasure, thpugh 
 exposed to the sun and dust, in witnessing these 
 feats of the rising generation, than in strolling 
 through the delightful walks and splendid porti- 
 
 *,Enead7, 102. 
 
214 DOMESTIC Oil PRIVATE 
 
 gos of Rome. There was, however, another 
 source of amusement, which was generally pre- 
 ferred to all the rest, and which afforded both 
 exercise and diversion. This was partaken by 
 all ranks, and was called ludus pilae* or game 
 of balls, an amusement to which Cato and Au- 
 gustus are said to have been particularly ad- 
 dicted. 
 
 The first three hours of the afternoon were 
 spent in the amusements and exercises just men- 
 tioned, and others which I do not think it necessa- 
 ry to describe. At three o'clock according to our 
 mode of computation, and nine according to 
 theirs, each citizen repaired with all possible haste 
 to the public or private baths, to refresh the body 
 and enjoy the luxury they afforded. To these 
 baths, and their objects and uses, I shall in my 
 next call your attention. I have now transcend- 
 ed the limits of a letter, and must bid you for 
 the present, 
 
 Adieu* 
 
 *These were of four kinds — ■ 
 
 I. Pila trigonahs— so called because the players were pla- 
 ced in a triangle. 
 
 II. Follis, or folliculusy which was filled with wind. 
 
 III. Paganicttf which was stuffed with feathers, and was less 
 than the follis, but heavier. 
 
 IV. Harpastuni) which was the smallest of alL 
 
LETTER IV. 
 
 My Dear Son : 
 
 In my last. I promised to give you some ac- 
 count of the baths of the Romans, as connected 
 with the subject with which I have undertaken to 
 make you acquainted. I now hasten to fulfil my 
 engagement, and will endeavor, briefly, to exhib- 
 it to you their antiquity, the magnificence with 
 which they were constructed, the uses to which 
 they were applied, and the times at which they 
 were frequented. The origin of baths may be 
 traced back to the remotest antiquity. In the 
 heroic ages of Greece, and in the earliest peri- 
 ods of the world, especially in warm climates, 
 the use of the bath was very common. In these 
 ages of simplicity, and comparative barbarity, 
 men and women bathed together without dis- 
 tinction, and without the consciousness of inde- 
 cency. You will find examples of this in Homer 
 and Moschus,* who describe virgins, often of the 
 highest rank, as waiting on the heroes of antiqui- 
 ty in the bath, and performing such services 
 as they required, with perfect innocence, and 
 
 *Hemer's Odyss: VI. Moschus Idyll: B. v. 31. 
 
216 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 
 
 without a feeling of indecorum.* But these 
 were rather the haths of nature than of art. The 
 brook, the river, or the ocean, were resorted to 
 for the purpose of cleansing the body, and of ren- 
 dering it healthy and vigorous. In process oi 
 time, art was called in to the aid of nature, and 
 spacious and stately edifices were erected, to 
 gratify the taste and luxury of a more refined and 
 polished age. The conquest of the world intro- 
 duced into this, as into every thing else, great 
 magnificence and splendour ; for in the first ages 
 of Rome, the bath was but seldom used, except 
 to keep the body clean, and this was done in the 
 Tiber, or such other places as nature present- 
 ed, without expense, parade, or inconvenience. 
 This simplicity, however, so well suited to re- 
 publican manners, yielded at last to the excessive 
 refinement and luxury which the increasing 
 wealth and greatness of the empire produced, 
 and which were exhibited more in the construc- 
 tion and ornaments of the baths, than in any other 
 
 *Tbe beautiful Polycasta, the daughter of Nestor led Telem- 
 achus to the Bath ; washed his body, and anointed it with her 
 own hands ; and Pisistratus and Telemachus, on another oc- 
 casion in the palace of Menelaus were conducted to marble 
 basons, where a bath was prepared and were washed, anoint- 
 ed with oil, and covered with rich garments by the hands of 
 beautiful female slaves. 
 
LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 217 
 
 object whatever. Mascenas, is said to have been 
 among the first to establish warm baths or thermes 
 at Rome. But the difficulty of procuring water, 
 retarded for some time, the establishment of these 
 public and private conveniences, and it was not 
 till the four hundred and forty-first year of the 
 city, that an acqueduct was constructed by Ap- 
 pius Claudius, and the water brought from Tus- 
 culum to Rome. This successful undertaking 
 tended in a short time to multiply the number of 
 aqueducts, and to increase the facilities of erect- 
 ing baths, and we find at last no less than eight 
 hundred and sixty public, and eighty-two pri- 
 vate ones established at Rome. It was not till 
 the reign of Augustus that much expense was 
 bestowed, or munificence displayed, in the erec- 
 tion of those edifices which have since, even in 
 their ruins, astonished the world. According to 
 Marcillinus, they equalled whole provinces in 
 extent, and their splendour was unrivalled bv the 
 most costly palaces. They contained porticos 
 — walks — groves — halls, and a variety of apart- 
 ments for the purposes of bathing, undress- 
 ing, anointing, &c* In their construction, the 
 
 * The balnea or thermes consisted of four separate chambers, 
 besides the hypocaustum or furnace. These were called, 
 
 First. Laconicurn, which was a small vaulted chamber, 
 situated close to the ftunace, and which, from its excessive 
 
 T 
 
218 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 most beautiful and precious marbles were em- 
 ployed, and which were ornamented with pillars 
 and figures of jasper, alabaster, and porphyry.-— 
 The floors and ceilings were of mosaic work ; the 
 apartments were filled with the delicious perfumes 
 of Arabia, and artificial cataracts were formed 
 by the waters which were received from the aque- 
 ducts, and which fell into cisterns covered with 
 silver, and flowed through pipes of the same met- 
 tal, into different parts of the edifice. Seneca 
 declared that the baths of plebeians were rilled 
 from silver pipes, and that the freedmen walked 
 on gems. What extravagance and luxury ! But 
 of all these baths the most magnificent were those 
 
 heat, was used only by the lazy, infirm and debauched, and, 
 such as did not partake in the exercises of the palaestra. 
 It was called by the Greeks 'ssvpiotvOnpov, by the Romans, La- 
 conicum, or cella calida, by Seneca, sudatarium ; by Cicero 
 assa, and by Vitruvius, calidarium. 
 
 II. Tepidariutri) which was the most magnificent chamber of 
 the bath ; and so built, as to be moderately warmed by the 
 furnace, and to receive the whole influence of the sun. It was 
 in this apartment the company were rubbed down with the 
 strigiles, or scrapers, before they were anointed. These scra- 
 pers were made either of ivory or metal, and sometimes of sil- 
 ver and gold. 
 
 III. The calidarium.) which was so situated as to receive all 
 the advantages of light and heat from the sun. 
 
 IV. The Frigidarium^ which was a chamber for cold bath- 
 ing, and built near the calidarium. All these chambers communi- 
 cated with each other by passages. 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 219 
 
 of Titus, Caracalla and Dioclesian; the latter it is 
 said employed forty thousand christian soldiers in 
 the erection of his thermes, and afterwards when 
 the work was completed, caused them to be put 
 to death, through hatred to their religion. All 
 these splendid and costly buildings were erected 
 to conciliate the favour of the people, for whose 
 use and accommodation- they were principally 
 raised, and who were privileged to enter when 
 they were open, and to use at pleasure, the warm 
 — the cold — or the vapour bath, without ex- 
 pense. The baths of powerful and opulent in- 
 dividuals, were also proportionably superb, and 
 always placed near the dining chamber, that 
 they might be the more conveniently used, be- 
 fore supper, according to an existing custom. 
 To these thermes, or public baths, were attached 
 a number of servants or slaves, who were dis- 
 tinguished by the respective duties they perform- 
 ed, and paid according to the nature of those du- 
 ties, some being appointed to heat them : some 
 to anoint and perfume those who bathed : oth- 
 ers to take care of their clothes and the like. 
 Both sexes, though it was sometimes prohibted, 
 and sometimes allowed, ultimately used the bath 
 together,* with this difference only, that the 
 
 * This is still practised in many parts of Russia and Lapland 
 See Clarke's Travels in Russia. 
 
220 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 men and women were waited upon by those of 
 their respective sex. 
 
 I now come to the uses to which these baths 
 were applied. Some frequented them for health, 
 some for convenience, but most for pleasure, 
 alone. It was believed that the bath conduced to 
 health by opening the "pores and assisting diges- 
 tion, and we are told by Juvenal,* that the Ro- 
 mans, when they found their stomachs over-load- 
 ed, repaired for relief to the bath, which usually 
 produced the effect they desired. Indeed, their 
 utility has been admitted by the most eminent 
 physicians of all ages, and it is to be regretted, 
 that public establishments of this kind are not 
 more numerous in our own country. Experi- 
 ence has demonstrated that many diseases such 
 as rheumatism, colds, influenzas, nervous af- 
 fections, and many other disorders which pro- 
 ceed from the want of perspiration ; have been 
 not only prevented but cured, by the proper 
 and judicious use of the bath. But in addition 
 to their power of restoring perspiration and pro- 
 moting digestion, they possess another advantage 
 in refreshing and cleansing the body— an object 
 for which they were frequently resorted to by 
 the Romans, to whom it was rendered more ne- 
 cessary, from their union with the gymnasia and 
 
 * 1st Satire, 
 
LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 221, 
 
 palestrae, in which the body, exhausted with exer- 
 tion and covered with dust, required the cleans- 
 ing of the hath, and the rubbing and anointing 
 of their limbs which always followed it, as indis- 
 pensable to health and renewed vigour. The 
 thermes or baths, however, were more the re- 
 sort of those who pursued pleasure than those 
 who sought health and cleanliness. It was there 
 such persons who may readily be supposed to 
 have formed the great mass, constantly repaired 
 to enjoy the agreeable refreshment, the delicious 
 warmth or coolness, the pleasant collations, and 
 the amusing conversation, these places were cal- 
 culated to afford. The poets, too, according to 
 Horace,* were not backward in frequenting these 
 haunts of the luxurious, those 
 
 Vaulted baths, that best preserve the sound, 
 While sweetly floats the voice in echos round, 
 
 to recite their verses to advantage and to obtain 
 the meed of approbation ; nor were they less 
 resorted to by literary men who often held their 
 assemblies there, and employed themselves in 
 reading or hearing others read, and in prosecu- 
 ting their literary labors. 
 
 The usual hour at which the Romans repaired 
 
 * Horace, Sat. 4, Lib, 1. 
 
 T 2 
 
222 DOMESTIC LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 
 
 to the baths, both public and private, was at two 
 o'clock in the afternoon in the summer, and three 
 in the winter — the hora octava et nona of Pliny, 
 which were called the bath hours, and made 
 known by the sound of a bell, called the tintina' 
 hulum. At the sound of this signal, all amuse- 
 ments were instantly dropped, and every one de- 
 sirous to enter, proceeded in haste to the differ- 
 ent thermae, lest he should be too late to enjoy 
 the warm bath ; or what was almost equal to a 
 privation of this pleasure, be obliged to bathe in 
 cold water.* 
 
 Redde pilum, sonat aes Thermarum, ludere pergis? 
 Virgine vis sola lotus abire domum. — Martial. 
 
 After having sufficiently enjoyed this luxury 
 which they so eagerly anticipated, and so highly 
 relished, their bodies were rubbed with a pumice 
 stone, and anointed with oil, perfumed in the most 
 exquisite manner. The time thus consumed 
 brought on the hour of supper, or what we should 
 denominate dinner, to which they immediately re- 
 paired, refreshed and invigorated, to participate 
 in another source of enjoyment not less necessary 
 if not more luxurious and delightful. 
 
 * For an interesting account of the mode of bathing practised 
 among the Turks, see Savary's Letters on Egypt. 
 
LETTER V. 
 
 My dear Son : 
 
 We have at last arrived at the supper hour 
 of the Roman citizen, after having followed him 
 through all the different occupations, pursuits, 
 and pleasures in which he was engaged in the 
 preceding hours of the day ; 1 will now endea- 
 vour to conduct you into his supper chamber or 
 dining room, and to exhibit the nature of the enter- 
 tainment which he there enjoyed. In the early 
 ages of Rome, as I have already shown, frugality 
 and temperance constituted the most prominent 
 virtues of the Roman character. Their ordinary 
 food consisted of milk and vegetables, which they 
 cultivated with their own hands, and which they 
 ate in their own simple and humble habitations. 
 Even in the year of Rome 462, no great progress 
 had been made in the sumptuousness of their en- 
 tertainments or the magnificence of their apart- 
 ments ; for we find the consul Curius Dentatus, 
 preparing his own dinner of roots on a little 
 wooden bench, and receiving the ambassadors of 
 the Samnites in that lowly and unostentatious 
 condition. You, I have no doubt, recollect the 
 answer he made to those deputies, when presunv 
 
224 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 ing upon his poverty, they offered him a bribe to 
 prevail upon him to intercede in their behalf with 
 the Senate : " Without doubt, my indigence 
 makes you hope that you may corrupt me ; but 
 you are mistaken. I had rather be the comman- 
 der of rich men, than be rich myself: go tell 
 your nation that they will find it as difficult to 
 bribe as to conquer me." In these and in more 
 remote ages, the Romans supped in an open hall, 
 called the atrium, exposed to the eyes of the 
 public ; for how sober and frugal soever their 
 fare might be, they had no censure to appre- 
 hend, and no ridicule to fear ; because every one 
 observed the same simplicity of life, and made no 
 effort to display greater magnificence. Till the 
 destruction of the city by the Gauls, their houses 
 were but humble cottages, and their dining hall 
 served the purposes both of a drawing room and a 
 kitchen, and each cottage or cabin was consider- 
 ed in the light of a temple ; because, " it was in- 
 habited by justice, probity, and honour."* But 
 wealth and luxury, the spoils of the world and 
 the vices of the east, finally led to a new system 
 of manners, and a subversion of what had once 
 constituted the principal source of their power, 
 virtue, and happiness — their cabins were convert- 
 
 * Seneca, 
 
LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 225 
 
 ed into palaces, and their temperance and simpli- 
 city changed into the excess of refinement and 
 luxury. Lucullus, even in the days of the repub- 
 lic, is said by Plutarch,* to have had his palace 
 filled with magnificent saloons to entertain such 
 as he invited to see him. " Not only his couches 
 were spread with the richest purple carpets, his 
 sideboards set out with plate adorned with pre- 
 cious stones ; but his provisions were of the most 
 exquisite kind." To each of his apartments a 
 name was given, and each had its stated expense, 
 its bill of fare, and its particular furniture. 
 
 Cicero and Pompey having heard of the splen- 
 dour and extravagance in which Lucullus lived, 
 and doubting the correctness of the information, 
 determined to satisfy themselves of its truth, and 
 meeting him one day in the forum, they asked 
 permiss'on to sup with him ; to which he gladly 
 assented, and desired them to name the day — ■ 
 this very evening, said Cicero, we will go home 
 with you, provided you give us no more than 
 what you sup on yourself. Lucullus was forced 
 to comply ; but that he might not be able to have 
 any thing added, they would not allow him to 
 speak to his servants ; except to tell one of them 
 
 * Plutarch's LucuL 
 
226 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 in their hearing that he would sup in the Apollo. 
 This was sufficent — the expense allotted to that 
 apartment was 15,000 drachms, and that was the 
 cost of the entertainment given to his guests on 
 this occasion. Pompey, it may reasonably be sup- 
 posed, was not less astonished at the expense and 
 splendour of the repast, than at the rapidity with 
 which it was prepared.* It was now, says Sallust, 
 that poverty was considered as a disgrace, inno- 
 cence of manners as the effect of misanthropy, and 
 the consequence of the wealth which had flowed 
 into Rome by the conquests that had been achiev- 
 ed, was luxury, avarice and pride "t The beauty 
 and splendour of their saloons for eating were ri- 
 valled only by the costliness and sumptuousness of 
 the entertainments which were given in them. 
 Nero's golden palace was the admiration and won* 
 der of the Roman world ; it contained dining apart- 
 ments as wonderful as they were magnificent. 
 These were wainscoted with ivory, which turn- 
 ing on pins, formed moving pictures. Along the 
 wainscot were suspended wreaths of various 
 flowers, from which dropped the richest and most 
 costly perfumes. The most splendid of these 
 rooms was circular and its constant motion imita- 
 
 * Plutarch in Lucul. 
 t SaJlust de Bell. Cat, 
 
UVES OP THE ROMANS. 227 
 
 ted that of the celestial spheres.* If such were 
 the splendour of their edifices, and the extrava- 
 gance of their mode of life, it is not to he won- 
 dered at if every thing else should correspond 
 with the style, magnificence and elegance to 
 which they had attained ; and instead of plain 
 square tables made of wood which had been used 
 in the more virtuous and innocent days of the re- 
 public those of ivory and tortoise-shell, ornament- 
 ed with plates of copper, silver and gold, and in- 
 cased with precious stones, were employed. Their 
 seats which before the second Punic war, had 
 been rude wooden benches like those of the Cre- 
 tans and Lacedemonians, were changed into rich 
 and beautiful couches, and instead of setting at 
 table, as had long been the usage, they reclined on 
 their elbow in what they conceived the most easy 
 and luxurious attitude. So unfashionable had sit- 
 ting at table become, that it was considered as a 
 mark of grief and mourning to do it ; and we find 
 that CatOj after the defeat of Pompey , was so much 
 afflicted that he never suffered himself to recline, 
 but when it was necessary to sleep. Adieu for 
 the present, in my next I will endeavour to bring 
 this brief history to a close. 
 
 * Crevier's Roman Emperors, Nero, 
 
LETTER VI. 
 
 My dear Son : 
 
 The couches which were introduced in. 
 the place of benches, were at first very plain and 
 unornamented ; but this simplicity, like every 
 thing else in an age of refinement, was of short 
 duration, and the greatest extravagance was soon 
 exhihited in the materials and construction of 
 these couches. They were called lecti tricli- 
 niorum triclinares, to distinguish them from 
 those on which they slept, and were at their first 
 introduction three in number, and placed around 
 the table. It was not long, however, before the 
 three beds were exchanged for one couch of a 
 richer appearance and more elegant shape. This 
 they denominated the stribadium^ which was 
 made in the form of a half moon or Grecian 
 sigma, and esteemed in proportion to its eleva- 
 tion. 
 
 Lucent genialibus altis f 
 Aurea fulcra toris. 
 
 
 The guests were extended on these couches, 
 each of which contained from three to five per- 
 sons, in the following manner : — The first was 
 
LIVES ©F THE ROMANS. 229 
 
 placed at the head of the couch, resting the fore- 
 part of his body on his left elbow, that he might 
 have the free use of his right arm while eating. 
 His back was supported by a pillow which sepa- 
 rated the guest from the feet of his companion, 
 and also propped up his back and in the same 
 manner all the rest were arranged. The centre 
 of the middle couch was esteemed the most hon* 
 orable position, and according to Horace was al- 
 ways allotted to the master of the house.* This 
 reclining posture was not only common among 
 the Romans, but also among the Jews and other 
 oriental nations. Their position at table al- 
 ways brought the head of one in contact with the 
 breast of the other, which explains what St. John 
 asserts, that one of the disciples of Christ was 
 placed at supper on the bosom of his Lord.f 
 The place below the person who entertain- 
 ed was assigned to females, and that above him 
 to the most distinguished guests, and thence call- 
 ed the consular place. J The number of those 
 
 tSt. John, 13, 23, 
 
 X Plutarch assigns the following reasons for this arrangement 
 — 1st, that after the banishment of the Kings, the Cousuls to 
 avoid giving offence to their countrymen, withdrew from the 
 places which the princes used to occupy at the table, and leav- 
 ing them to the master of the house, they decended one degree 
 
 u 
 
230 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 invited, according to Gellius, was seldom less 
 than three or more than nine. As soon as the 
 company assembled, after having enjoyed the 
 luxury of the bath, they assumed the vestes convi- 
 vialis, or convivial frock which was very light and 
 appropriate, and had their sola or shoes taken 
 off, that no injury might be done to the rich and 
 splendid carpets and the furniture of the couches. 
 Being arranged at table, as I have already observ- 
 ed, each guest was furnished with an exact list of 
 the different services, and viands which were to 
 form the entertainment ; and then followed the 
 religious services, consisting of libations and 
 prayers. This was a usage of the most remote 
 antiquity, and observed by the ancients both be- 
 fore and after their repasts. The statues of the 
 household gods were placed on the table which 
 served as the altar, and when any of the compa- 
 ny took an oath, he touched the table as a thing 
 holy and sacred, and not to be violated with im- 
 punity. After the guests had washed their hands ? 
 another preparatory service, 
 
 Dant manibus famuli lymphas, 
 
 they were decorated with garlands of roses 
 
 below him. 2dly, that having always two beds for their 
 friends, it was reasonable that he who gave the entertainment, 
 should be so situated as to have his domesitcs under his own 
 eye, — be able to see what was passing, and to give orders and 
 entertain his guests. 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 231 
 
 and other flowers of the season, which were wo- 
 ven over their heads, arms and necks, and which 
 were also accompanied with the finest and most 
 exquisite essences and perfumes. The next 
 act was to elect a King, who was chosen by 
 vote from among the guests, and who prescribed 
 laws and regulations for the government of the 
 company at table, any violation of which was 
 punished with a cup of wine more than the rest 
 had drunk.* Cicero, you will recollect, says that 
 Veres, who had trampled under foot all the laws 
 of the Roman people, nevertheless punctually 
 obeyed the laws of the table. The Roman sup- 
 per generally consisted of three courses : the 
 first was composed of fresh eggs, sallad, lettuce, 
 olives, and such things as sharpened the appetite ; 
 the second of roast and broiled meats, ragouts 
 and other solid food, intermixed with fish, of 
 which they were particularly fond, and the third 
 or last course, of fruits, tarts and other dainties 
 which constituted^ as among modern nations, the 
 desert, and which they called the dulciaria and 
 bellaria ; hence the proverb ab ovo usque ad 
 mala. The slaves that attended at table were 
 loosely attired, furnished with white napkins, 
 
 * A custom very analogous to that of choosing a king'at table 
 is still preserved among civilized nations, in the election of 
 Presidents and Vice Presidents to serve at public dinners. 
 
232 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 and followed by a squire or leader, whose bu- 
 siness it was to see the different dishes skilful- 
 ly and judiciously arranged. When any thing 
 rare was presented such as a fish or a bird of 
 great value, it was accompanied by the sound of 
 flutes and hautboys. The company at such 
 times uttered exclamations of delight, and the 
 master of the house conceived himself sufficient- 
 ly compensated by these manifestations of plea- 
 sure in his guests. It would seem that on those 
 occasions, the most rational gratifications were ex- 
 perienced from the nature of their conversation, 
 and its exemption from every thing that could 
 offend, irritate, or displease ; for we find Horace, 
 in the ardour of poetic enthusiasm, exclaiming i 
 
 Oh ! nights that furnish such a feast 
 As even gods themselves might taste. 
 
 ^ft 3 . T? 4? ^F 3P "fi? 
 
 Nor this man's house, nor that's estate, 
 Becomes the subject of debate; 
 But what concerns us more, I trow, 
 And were a scandal not to know ; 
 If happiness consists in store, 
 Of riches or in virtue more ; 
 What's real good without disguise, 
 And where its great perfection lies. 
 While thus we spend the social night. 
 Still mixing profit with delight, 
 My neighbour Cervius, never failsj 
 To club his part in pithy tales.* 
 
 * Horace, Lib. 2. Sat. 6, 
 
LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 233 
 
 But these agreeable and rational repasts, re- 
 moved alike from the rusticity of the more re- 
 mote, and the refinement and extravagance of the 
 more polished ages of Rome, were not of long 
 duration ; and though extolled by the poets, and 
 lauded by the orators and philosophers, they 
 could not maintain their ground against the luxury 
 and corruption which wealth had introduced, and 
 which soon trampled under foot the sumptuary 
 laws that had been established to preserve econ- 
 omy and temperance of living. The appetite 
 was pampered to satiety, and the wealth of a 
 kingdom was sometimes squandered on a meal. 
 The cook had now become the most important 
 and necessary personage of the household, and 
 the art itself, was cultivated as a science of the 
 greatest difficulty, and the most essential utility. 
 Profusion was carried to excess ; sea and land, 
 says Sallust, were explored to supply rareties for 
 the table, and the stomach was overloaded and dis- 
 gorged, that the pleasure of eating might be con- 
 tinued.* Every day, it is said, the emperor Clau- 
 dius was obliged to be borne from table to bed, and 
 while reclining on his back with his mouth wide 
 open, a feather was thrust down his throat to as- 
 sist him to vomit, and to ease his stomach. Vitel- 
 
 * Suet. Claud. Vitel. 
 
 U 2 
 
234 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 lius thought himself Emperor only to eat : he took 
 four meals a-day and brought himself to a habit 
 of vomiting, that he might renew his meals at 
 pleasure. Every entertainment he received in 
 his travels cost upwards of three thousand pounds 
 sterling, and in one which he gave to his brother 
 the profusion and expense were so excessive, 
 that it was estimated at seven millions two hun- 
 dred thousand pounds. In this, two thousand 
 fish and seven thousand of the finest and most 
 uncommon fowls were served up. The emperor 
 himself, dedicated a silver dish, which from its 
 great size, was called the shield of Minerva, and 
 filled it with the livers of scarce fish, the brains of 
 peacocks and pheasants, the tongues of the phcs- 
 nicopterus, and the roes of lampreys.* Heiioga- 
 balus was not behind his predecessors in luxury 
 and extravagance ; his table was filled with dishes 
 of mullet's livers, brains of thrushes, and heads of 
 parrots, pheasants, and peacocks. His suppers 
 never cost less than five hundred and fifty pounds, 
 and often thrice that sum. In short, this once fru- 
 gal and temperate people, became at last so glut- 
 tonous and luxurious, that, according to Seneca,* 
 they vomitted but to eat, and eat but to vomit ; and 
 gave themselves no time to digest the rare and de- 
 
 * Lampridius, 18, 32, 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 235 
 
 licate food they had caused, at an immense ex- 
 pense, to be brought from the extremities of the 
 world. From this picture of beastly propensity, 
 I know you will turn with loathing and disgust; 
 because it is melancholy to contemplate the 
 approximation of man to the brute — I shall there- 
 fore quit it with pleasure, and proceed to give 
 you a brief description of the splendour which 
 usually and necessarily accompanied this indul- 
 gence of the appetite. The manners of the Ro- 
 mans had undergone a serious change, even from 
 the year 477, when Cornelius Rufinus was expel- 
 led from the Senate, though he had been twice 
 consul and once dictator, for having a vessel of sil- 
 ver on his table, weighing a little more than fif- 
 teen marks. Laws had been passed, limiting the 
 expense of an entertainment, and condemning 
 alike the master of the house, the stranger, and 
 the guest, when that limit was transcended. But 
 these laws and usages were soon disregarded and 
 scorned ;■' and even in the days of Sylla, Pliny 
 informs us, their silver dishes exceeded two hun- 
 dred marks in weight. In succeeding ages this 
 extravagance, though checked for a time by the 
 example of the virtuous Vespasian, continued 
 to increase rather than diminish — and Helioga- 
 balus, according to Lampridius, went far beyond 
 
 * Seneca de Consoh 
 
236 DOMESTIC* OR PRIVATE 
 
 even the conceptions of Nero and Vitellius. His 
 couches were of massy silver, and covered with 
 cloths of gold ; he fed his dogs on the livers of 
 geese, and his lions on parrots and pheasants ; 
 and every thing he did, was made to correspond 
 with this unthinking extravagance. Having spo- 
 ken of their meats at supper, it is necessary I 
 should say something of the wines they drank. 
 These, as among us, were estimated in propor- 
 tion to their age ; and it was not uncommon to 
 offer the guest wine which had been preserved in 
 vessels of earth, and in garrets, instead of cellars, 
 for near two hundred years. To render this li- 
 quor more palatable, it was customary to mix 
 with it honey, myrrh, or some other aromatic. 
 Men, till towards the decline of the republic, 
 were not permitted to drink this fine beverage, 
 under the age of thirty years ; and Women were 
 deemed infamous who were known to have used 
 it, and condemned to death as for adultery. Till 
 the six hundredth year of Rome, the vine was not 
 cultivated, and prior to that time milk was em- 
 ployed for libations to the gods, in their sacrifi- 
 ces. Under the emperors, however, when virtue 
 began to decline with liberty, women, as well as 
 men, of all ages were indiscriminately permitted 
 to drink what a Greek poet calls the milk oi Ve- 
 nus, to any excess they pleased. 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS-. 237 
 
 To put the guests in good humour, and to 
 heighten the pleasure of the entertainment as 
 much as possible, it was usual before supper, un- 
 der the emperors, to draw lotteries, to which 
 were attached blanks and prizes of small value. 
 The tickets were gratuitously distributed among 
 the company ; and in this, as in other lotteries, 
 some drew nothing, while others, more fortu- 
 nate, obtained jewels as their prizes. To this 
 succeeded the game of dice and cocals ; which, 
 though it had been prohibited by law, except 
 during the saturnalia, became a favourite amuse- 
 ment with the emperors, and even with Cato, 
 the censor and Scevola, the civilian. These and 
 other games were resorted to for amusement be- 
 fore and during supper, which was rendered still 
 more agreeable by the exhibition of buffoons, 
 farces, music, dancing, pantomines and gladiatori- 
 al combats. Seneca gives, in a few words, a 
 picture of the splendour and magnificence of 
 these entertainments. " Behold Apicius, reclin- 
 ing upon his couch, covered with roses, contem- 
 plating the magnificence of his table ; gratifying 
 his ear with concerts the most harmonious ; his 
 sight with spectacles the most delightful ; his 
 smell with perfumes the most exquisite, and hi? 
 palate with food the most delicious,' 7 
 
238 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 
 
 In addition to the games and amusements 1 
 have enumerated, another custom, derived from 
 the Greeks, existed and which became very com- 
 mon at those entertainments. It consisted in the 
 guests presenting the bowl or cup of wine as we 
 do the glass, and drinking the health of his 
 friends and patrons. The language used was pro- 
 pine* tibi — bone tibi — bene Mi, #c. The act of 
 passing round the cup usually closed the supper, 
 and was denomiated the comessatio — and consi- 
 dered as a mark of great liberty and condescen- 
 sion. This ceremony of passing the cup round, 
 was sometimes extended to midnight, and always 
 preceded the libations and vows of the company 
 for the prosperity of their host and of the em- 
 peror, which closed the entertainment. After 
 this, the master of the house distributed among 
 his slaves a portion of the remains of the feast, 
 and the rest that was fit to be preserved, was, 
 with judicious frugality, put away and secured. 
 What was neither worth preserving nor giving 
 away was burned, and a sacrifice performed, call- 
 ed protervia. Before the guests took their final 
 leave, it was customary to receive from the host 
 small presents, called from the Greek, apopacrela. 
 Sometimes, however, these presents were very 
 rich and costly, and corresponded with the splen- 
 dour of the entertainment, and the extravagance 
 
LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 23& 
 
 and opulence of the entertainer. Verus pre- 
 sented to each of his guests, twelve in number, 
 at their departure, a golden crown, and a vessel 
 of gold and silver enriched with diamonds ; and 
 Heliogabalus, who always used golden vessels at 
 his feasts, distributed among his company all that 
 had been used during the entertainment. 
 
 Having thus often so sumptuously regaled and 
 satisfied their appetite, they returned home, and 
 if they had time, would spend the remainder of 
 the evening before they retired for the night, in 
 walking or settling and arranging their domestic 
 concerns. Their beds, which in the early and 
 virtuous ages of Rome, had been straw or leaves, 
 and their covering the skins of animals, partook, 
 after the conquest of Greece and Asia, which ren- 
 dered them voluptuous and effeminate, in a high 
 degree, of the magnificence and richness of every 
 thing around them. Their beds were now beds 
 of down; their bedsteads made either of the most 
 beautiful wood elegantly carved, or of ivory, and 
 sometimes, indeed, of massy silver, and their co- 
 verlets of fine purple, enriched with gold. The 
 form of these beds was somewhat similar to those 
 in use with us, but so elevated as to require steps 
 to ascend them. In these they reposed for the 
 night 5 but their slumber could not have been the 
 
240 DOMESTIC LIVES OP THE ROMANS.^ 
 
 invigorating and refreshing sleep of their an- 
 cestors, unagitated by ambition, and unenfee- 
 bled by luxury and excess. 
 
 I have thus my dear son, brought the Bo- 
 man day to a close ; and have given, I think, 
 a picture of the domestic life of that interest- 
 ing people at the different periods of their go- 
 vernment, sufficiently enlarged to enable you to 
 form a more correct and accurate conception of 
 their character, than the mere perusal of their 
 general history is calculated to furnish. In re- 
 lation to the private life, laws, manners, and 
 usages of the Greeks, you will be amply gratified 
 and improved by a careful perusal of the travels 
 of Anacharsis, by Barthelemy, a work to which I 
 have already referred you, and which, though not 
 distinguished for great brilliancy of fancy, evin» 
 ces uncommon leaning, research, and labour. 
 
 THE END, 
 
 DAVIS & FORCE. PRINT. 
 
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