modern, wherever they appeared likely to illustrate, or strengthen my positions; but I am not so sanguine as to expect that all will draw the same conclusions from the same premises. I have not forgotten the observation, of him who said, that in the same meadow, the ox seeks the herbage; the dog, the hare; and the stork, the lizard.' Times also of profound peace and tranquillity are most propitious to every literary pursuit. Satur est, cum dicit Horatius euge.'* We know that Malherbe, on hearing a prose work of great merit extolled, dryly asked if it would reduce the price of bread! neither was his appreciation of poetry much higher, when he observed, that a good poet was of no more service to the church or the state, than a good player at ninepins!!

The anecdotes that are interspersed in these pages, have seldom been cited for their own sake, but chiefly for their application, nor can I see why the Moralist should be denied those examples so useful to the Historian. The lover of variety will be fastidious, if he finds nothing here to his taste; but like him who wrote a book 'de omnibus rebus, et quibusdam aliis,' I may perhaps be accused of looking into every thing, but of seeing into nothing.

There are two things, cheap and common enough when separated, but as costly in value, as irresistible in power, when combined-truth and novelty. Their union is like that of steam and of fire, which nothing can overcome. Truth and novelty, when united, must overcome the whole superincumbent pressure of error and of prejudice, whatever be its weight: and the effects will be proportionate to the resistance. But the moral earthquake, unlike the natural, while it convulses the nations, reforms them too. On subjects indeed, on which mankind have been thin ang for so many thousands of years, it will often happen, that whatever is. absolutely new, may have the misfortune to be abso

* When Horace shouts, bravo! be sure he has dined.-PUB. About all things, and some more.—PUв.

lutely false. It is a melancholy consideration for authors, that there is very little 'Terra Incognita' in literature, and there now remain to us moderns, only two roads to success; discovery and conquest. If indeed we can advance any propositions that are both true and new, these are indisputably our own, by right of discovery; and if we can repeat what is old, more briefly and brightly than others, this also becomes our own by right of conquest. The pointed propriety of Pope, was to all his readers originality, and even the lawful possessors could not always recognise their own property in his hands. Few have borrowed more freely than Gray and Milton, but with a princely prodigality, they have repaid the obscure thoughts of others, with far brighter of their own; like the ocean which drinks up the muddy water of the rivers, from the flood, but replenishes them with the clearest from the shower. These reflections, however they may tend to show the difficulties all must encounter who aim at originality, will, nevertheless in nowise tend to diminish the number of those who will attempt to surmount them, since fools rush in, where angels fear to tread.' In good truth, we should have a glorious conflagration, if all who cannot put fire into their works, would only consent to put their works into the fire. But this is an age of economy, as well as of illumination, and a considerate author will not rashly condemn his volumes to that devouring element, 'flammis emendatioribus," who reflects that the pastry-cook and the confectioner are sure to put good things into his pages, if he fail to do it himself.

With respect to the style I have adopted in the following sheets, I have attempted to make it vary with the subject; avoiding all pomp of words, where there was no corresponding elevation of ideas; for such turgidity, although it may be as aspiring as that of a balloon, is also as useless. I have neither spare time for superfluous writing, nor spare money for superfluous

*The amending flumes.-PUB.

sidered a Tory by the Whigs, and a Whig by the Tories; for truth, no less than virtue, not unfre quently forms the middle point between two extremes. Where one party demands too much, and the other is inclined to concede too little, an arbitrator will please neither, by recommending such measures as would eventually serve both. I have, however, neither the hope nor the fear, that my opinions on politics, or any other subject, will attract much attention. The approbation of a few discerning friends, is all the reward I wish for my labours; and the four lines which form the commencement of my Poem of' Hypocrisy,' shall make the conclusion of this Preface, since the sentiments they contain, are as applicable to prose as to verse.

Two things there are, confound the Poet's lays,
The scholar's censure and the blockhead's praise;
That glowing page with double lustre shines,
When Pope approves, and Dennis damns the lines.'

LONDON, January 1st, 1820.

have deprived themselves of sleep, in order to procure it for their readers.

With books, as with companions, it is of more consequence to know which to avoid, than which to choose; for good books are as scarce as good companions, and in both instances, all that we can learn from bad ones is, that so much time has been worse than thrown away. That writer does the most, who gives his reader the most knowledge, and takes from him the least time. That short period of a short existence, which is rationally employed, is that which alone deserves the name of life; and that portion of our life is most rationally employed, which is occupied in enlarging our stock of truth, and of wisdom. I do not pretend to have attained this, I have only attempted it. One thing I may affirm, that I have first considered whether it be worth while to say any thing at all, before I have taken any trouble to say it well; knowing that words are but air, and that both are capable of much condensation. Words indeed are but the signs and counters of knowledge, and their currency should be strictly regulated by the capital which they represent.

I have said that the maxims in the following pages are written upon this principle-that men are the same; upon this alone it is that the sacred maxim which forms the golden hinge of our religion, rests and revolves, 'Do unto thy neighbour as thou wouldst that he should do unto thee.' The proverbs of Solomon suit all places and all times, because Solomon knew mankind, and mankind are ever the same. No revolution has taken place in the body, or in the mind. Four thousand years ago, men shivered with frost, and panted with heat, were cold in their gratitude, and ardent in their revenge. Should my readers think some of my conclusions too severe, they will in justice recollect, that my object is truth, that my subject is man, and that a handsome picture cannot represent deformity.

The political principles contained in the following pages, are such, that whoever avows them will be con

argument, rather than the consequence of him who delivers it. It is sufficiently humiliating to our nature, to reflect that our knowledge is but as the rivulet, our ignorance as the sea. On points of the highest interest, the moment we quit the light of revelation, we shall find that Platonism itself is intimately connected with Pyrrhonism, and the deepest inquiry with the darkest doubt.

In an age remarkable for good reasoning and bad conduct, for sound rules and corrupt manners, when virtue fills our heads, but vice our hearts; when those who would fain persuade us that they are quite sure of heaven, appear to be in no greater hurry to go there than other folks, but put on the livery of the best master only to serve the worst ;-in an age when modesty herself is more ashamed of detection than of delinquency; when independence of principle consists in having no principle on which to depend; and freethinking not in thinking freely, but in being free from thinking;-in an age when patriots will hold any thing except their tongues; keep any thing except their word; and lose nothing patiently except their character;-to improve such an age must be difficult, to instruct it dangerous; and he stands no chance of amending it, who cannot at the same time amuse it.

That author, however, who has thought more than he has read, read more than he has written, and written more than he has published, if he does not command success, has at least deserved it. In the article of rejection and abridgment, we must be severe for ourselves, if we wish for mercy from others; since for one great genius who has written a little book, we have a thousand little geniuses, who have written great books. A volume, therefore, that contains more words than ideas, like a tree that has more foliage than fruit, may suit those to resort to, who want not to feast, but to dream and to slumber; but the misfortune is, that in this particular instance, nothing can equal the ingratitude of the public, who were never yet known to have the slightest compassion for those authors who