The following PROLOGUE and EPILOGUE to WAYS and MEANS were received too late to be inferted in our Theanical Journal, page 65, after our account of that Comedy. Tho' ramm'd in amongst you, to praise or to PROLOGUE. Means. Some efty Critic, with contemptuous fneer, There's nothing now but Fiction in Finance. Do you grant largely the Supplies; nor fear mock it, [pocket. I brought my Critique cut and dry in my We great Paper Editors, ftrange it appears! Can often, believe me, difpenfe with our ears. The Author, like all other Authors-well knowing That we are the people to fet him a-goingHas begg'd me just now, in a flattering tone, To publish a friendly Critique of his own. For it feems, 'tis expected, because we are free, We're bound to praife all the damn'd nonfente we fee: [fcorning, Hence comes it, the Houfcs, their emptineis At low ebb at night, overflow in the morning! Hence audiences, feated at ease at the Play, Are fqueez'd to a mummy, poor devils! next day! [thing from us, Even Actors themselves will extort fomeAnd the vileft performer's an Actor of promife; [on Volumes, While felf-praifing Authors write Volumes And Puffs every morning, like fmoke, rife in columns. [fweetly! Our Bard of to-night-I had tickled him Foifts his Puff upon me-Damn it, mine was fo neatly Work'd up-'tis a pity-an excellent pill! Some fweet, three parts four-shall I read it ?--I will! "Last night "Ways and Means [name - Little Theatre-Comedy - Unproductive Plot blind, language lame. "As the Author has Parts-our advice in this Play [way"Is-new-model the Story-but this by the "His Dialogue toc-he may trut to our print[a Hint. "Is tho poor, grofs and vulgar-but this is "Impartial's our motto-there's really no end "To his puns and his quibbles-We fpcak as a Friend. "That the A&tors had doubts on't, we cannot help thinking; "For they all did their utmost to keep it from finking. "Young Bannister buftled, in hopes of its rifing; [prifing!" "And Palmer's exertions were really furSo much from our felves-what the Author advances To fupport Ways and Means, will ne'er mend his Finances. [him He calls it a Light Summer Thing-and with If therefore, in any one Paper you fee To the EDITOR of the EUROPEAN MAGAZINE. Mr. EDITOR, IN my occafional correfpondence with you, I have more than once expreffed my indignation against that pitiful and abfurd schoolboy criticifm which traces imitation and plagiarifm, in giving the fame epithet to the Lame object; as if two men, born in different ages, could not call a rofe red or white without the help of a former author, or of each other. Some of your correfpondents, within thefe three years, have carried their bypercriticisms to fuch extravagance, as if two men could not think. alike on the fame subject. Your correfpondent Philo Dramaticus, in your Magazine for laft April, ingenuously confeffes and renounces this berefy in criticiẩm. "Wherever I found," fays he, "a thought or metaphor fimilar to any I had before perufed, I inftantly, and without delibe“nation, condemned the latter of plagiarism. "The duingenuoufnofs of this accufation I "foon became fenfible of."-But pleased as I am with the above, another correfpondent in the fame Magazine has equally raised my difgat. It is the writer, without fignature, I mean, who has fent you his "Remarks which occurred on a perufal of Mrs. "Piozzi's Anecdotes of the late Dr. Samuel "Johnson." He starts thus: P. 27. "I did not refpect my own mother, though I loved her: and one day, when in anger the called me a puppy, I afked her "if the knew what they called a puppy's "mother." "This thought appears to have been adopted from Shakespeare's Timon of Athens, At I. Sc. 1." "Peet. You are a dog. "Apem. Thy mother's of my generation: What's the, if I be a dog ?" The lower clafs of boys of every village in England, are expert in ringing the changes on this identical idea. But Johnfon must not be fuppofed ever to have heard the talk of naughty boys, or to be capable of fo natural a retort of his own. No, no, Shakespeare must be the father of the common-place jeft; and Jolmfon, a boy fcolded by his mother, must have Shakespeare at his fingers ends, as ready, according to the foolish old faying, as the king has an egg in his pocket. Dr. Johnson was remarkable for not fpeaking till particularly addreffed by fome of the company; and it was a good bit of the late Tom Tyers, of honeft and blunt memory, when he faid to Dr. Johnfon, "Why, Sir, 44 you are like a ghoft, you never speak till you are fpoken to." No part of the VOL. XIV. nurfe's mythology is better known, than that "like a ghoft, only wanted to be spoke to, The above, however, are nothing to the following: P. 265. "Walking in a wood when it "rained, was, I think, the only rural "image he pleafed his fancy with." "His partiality for this circumstance perhaps was occafioned by a paffage in Milton, which is thus paraphrafed in his obfervations on the Penforofo of that great poet."When the morning comes, a morning "gloomy with wind and rain, he [the pen"five man] walks into the dark trackless "woods."-Who, that was intimate with Dr. Johnson, can exprefs frprise on finding him adopt an amufement appropriated by Milton to Il Perforofo?" This is realising with a vengeance the fatire of Martinus Scriblerus, who defcribes an arch-pedant as fo fond of the manners of the ancients, that he almoft poisons a large company with his revival of the black broth of Sparta; and muft go to Cornwall to see the game of burling, which he fancied was an Olympian game, where, by the bye, he gets his thigh broke for his love of antiquity. And what more ridiculous is the fuppofition, that Johnfon's delight in walking in a wood when it rained, was adopted from an amusement appropriated by Milton to 11 Penfor fo!!! Johnson's conftitutional difeafe was, as he himself often acknowledges, a morbid melancholy, which he inherited from his father. See Bofwell's Tour with him to the Hebrides. That there is much real plagiarism in the literary world, is a certain fact; but to dif criminate what is truly fuch, and what not, requires a much riper judgment than is as poffeffed by the Remarker, whom I would advife, in the most friendly manner, to go to Jericho till bis beard grous. D I am, &c. Sas yet QR. S. Peffeript. Poffcript. The Remarker calls the above fentence from Johnson, in his obf rvations on Penforofo, a paraphrafe on a paffage in Milton. But the wide difference between the two is worthy of critical obfervation. "When "the morning comes, a morning gloomy "with wind and rain, he [the pensive man] "walks into the dark trackiefs woods."This is gloomy indeed, and defcriptive of a difeafed mind, loft in chagrin and horror. In Milton every thing is different; the melancholy defcribed by him, and which he wishes to indulge, is of the most elegant, foothing, and pleafing kind. It is no gloomy morning he wishes for: Thus Night oft fee me in thy pale career, Not trickt and frounc'd as she was wont [Alluding to the fable of Diana and Endy- But kercheft in a comely cloud, The With minute drops from off the eaves. This is no morning gloomy with wind and rain. Rocking and piping winds lull to fleep, and indicate no tempeft or gloom. fill fhower, when the blaft is over, ENDING on the ruling leaves, and the minute drops from the eaves of the woodland cottage, is the pleafing and contemplative time chofen for the walks of a Milton. The following is in the fame tafte: And when the fun begins to fling. And I awake, fweet mufic breathe How beautiful and pleafing is fuch imagery and excurfion of the fancy! And what gloomy contraft is exhibited in Johnson's penfive man, walking in the dark trackless woods, in a morning gloomy with wind and rain!!! Who cannot but perceive that Johnson's morbid caft of melancholy was the fole caufe of his delight in gloomy scenery, fo widely different from the tafte of a Milton? And how abfurd is the critic who would reprefent them as the fame ? On FRENCH POLITENESS. THE English are in general fo complai fant as to impute a fuperior degree of politenefs in converfation to the French. This is with me a kind of proof that the fuperiority in this refpect should be attributed to the for mer. "fpife our language too much to learn it; "and though he knows I never was three "months in France in my life, he always ad"dreffes me in French. This I regard as rude "and impolite to me, as an Englishman; for "which reafon I will not indulge his vanity "by fpeaking French, and giving him room "to think I have confidered his language as "more worth acquiring than he has done "mine." I will not undertake to decide abfolutely concerning the merits of this punctilio, in point of politenefs; but I could not help being pleased, as an Englishman, with the fpirit of my countryman; and reflecting with iome indignation on the ridiculous va It is certain that the French, having generally a greater volubility of fpeech, abound more in ceremonious forms of falutation: but ceremony and politenets are different things. I was led to this reflection by the behaviour of two gentlemen in whofe company I lately dined; the one a Frenchman, and the other an Englishman, both of some diftin&tion, as well in rank as literature. The company was a mixerionc; and French and English indifferently spoken at table. I obferved, how-nity of the French, who affect in all countries ever, that the gentlemen in question converfed together in their native tongues; the one in English, and the other in French; by wich I found, that both languages were well known, and familar to each. Aftc breaking up, I afked the Englin Gentleman therefore, why he had not held the converfation in French? Because (faid he the French gentleman *would not speak English. He has been these "fifteen years in England, and affects to de the fame contempt for the language of the natives, and therefore learn to speak no tongue but their own. Hence it is that the French is become fo univerfal, which would not have been the cafe, had not the natives of other countries had more politenefs in converfation than the French; or had they, like my English friend abovementioned, the fpirit to repay their civility in kind. ANTIPALAVER. THE : LONDON REVIEW; AND JOURNAL, LITERARY FOR JULY, 1788. Quid fit turpe, quid utile, quid dulce, quid non. The Hiftory of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. By Edward Gibbon, Éfq. Vols. IV. V. and VI. 4to. 31. 38. Strahan and Cadell. 1788. THAT the understanding of man is in a rapid decline; that we neither think, fpeak, nor write with the mafcuThe nerve of our forefathers; is a favourite topic with those who from ignorance, envy, or difappointment, turn with abhorrence their feeble optics from the fplendor of living genius :-fuch complaints, however, have been so often repeated, that they have now lost their effect. The arts, the fciences, the belles lettres, have at no period been more fuccefsfully cultivated than the prefent; and if we except poetry, which is almoft extinct among us, no branch of compofition has been left unattempted or unadorned. But it is on our Hiftorians that the fame of our genius is moft peculiarly established; and pofterity will look back with reverence and admiration to the contempo. rary fpirit, learning, fkili, genius, and industry of a Robertfon, a Stuart, a Dalrymple, a Hume, and a Mitford. Among this conftellation, however, the name of Gibbon fhines with preeminent luftre. Adorned with every grace of compofition, every beauty of tyle; with an acuteness of perception that feizes intuitively the motives of every act; with a patient diligence that traces every confequence to its caufe; rich in all the stores of learning, ancient and modern, facred and profane; the author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire brings to his undertaking fuch an affemblage of hiftoric requifites as arrefts our wonder while it infures his fuccefs. In recording the wants of diftant, obfcure, and barbarous ages, the task of the hiftorian is the most painful of labours:-his materials are fcanty; the authors from whom his information may be derived tedious and ignorant. From ever. many weighty tomes, the drowly revetie of monkish dulnefs, has the elegant pen of Gibbon brushed away the duft for Illumined by a y of his cre tive fpirit, Evagrius, Theophylact, Paul, Eutychius, thake off the tomb, where, for centuries, they have lain inhumed, and blaze forth with fplendor not their own. The uncurrent ore of the Civilians, stamped with his nage, receives a value; and even in the unfruitful mountain of theology, his genius, like the fun, matures a vein of gold. The ftyle of the Hiftory of the Decline of the Roman Empire is rich to a degree of elegance hardly known before:--it is a paradife of fweets almost too powerful for the fenfe-a galaxy, where the luftre of any one beauty is undiftinguishable.-Perhaps the fobriety of the Hiftoric Mufe fuits not with fo bright a glare of ornament; but let it be remembered, that it is by the hands of the Graces that he is thus gorgeoufly attired; nor can we with the abfence of one gem when art but heightens her native beauty. The trappings of the generous fteed are exceptionable only, when they impede the gracefulness of his motion, or his fpeed and fpirit in the battle. In the prefent volumes Mr. Gibbon appears as an hiftorian, a lawyer, and a theologift. In the firft character he is unimpeachable: his method is plain, his diction perfpicuous, his felection of facts judicious, his connexion accurate: the lucidus ordo et verborum concinnitas have never been excelled, perhaps equalled. As a civilian, he has given a moft admirable and luminous profpect of that intricate, obfcure, and almost infinite labyrinth, the laws of Juftinian: we fee him with wonder refolve the knotty perplexity, and irradiate the palpable dark D 2 nefa nefs of the pandects, the novels, and the code: under his hand "the crooked be"come fraight, and the rough places "plain;" and doubts and difficulties vanith before his genius as the morning mit before the fun. As a theologian, his opinions are already known, and have been oppofed with an ability and a fuccefs whic renders our condemnation unneceffary. We have not the prefump tuous vanity to think that our light ftrice tures could ever add weight to the pious arguments of a Watfon; the Chriftian faith is abundantly furnished with warm and able defenders, and to them we leave the difcuffion. Having premifed thefe obfervations, we fhall in our next Number proceed to lay before our Readers a few extracts from this valuable work. The Parian Chronicle; or, The Chronicle of the Arundelian Marbles, with a Differtation concerning its Authenticity. IN (Concluded from Vol. XIII. Page 414.) our laft Magazine we briefly ftated fome of the arguments advanced in the differtation on the Parian Chronicle against the authenticity of that celebrated infcription; we fhail now proceed to give our readers a general view of the author's remaining objections. Having endeavoured to prove, that it is very improbable this Chronicle would have been engraved on marble for PRIVATE USE, and that it does not appear to have been compiled by PUBLIC AUTHORITY, he fhews, that in the writings of all the Greeks with which we are acquainted, from the days or Herodotus to thofe of Polybius, who died 140 years after the date of the infer pt on, we have no traces of a regular, fcientific chronology; and that Julius Africanus, Juftin Martyr, Plutarch, Jofephus, Varro, Diodorus Siculus, Thucydides, and others, unanimously affert, that the earlier periods of the Grecian hiftory were involved in dark nefs and confusion. From whence then, fays our author, can we fuppofe the compiler of the Chrohicle collected fuch a clear, determinate, and comprehenfive fyftem of chronology? If he had any fources of information, which were unknown to fucceeding writers, how happens it that they fhould all of them overlook this moft confiderable, this most exact, most creditable author? Why did they omit this ancient account of their early ages? Why did they not copy bis most memorable epochas? Why did they not produce his authority? or, at least, Why did they not mention his opinion? Surely nothing, to all appearance, could be more elaborate, more important, or of higher authority than a chronological table, which was thought worthy of being engraved on marble!Vet, on this occafion, all the writers of antiquity are perfectly fi ent! The fubject of the feventh chapter is the SILENCE of the ancients, with refpe&t to the Parian Chronicle. It is natural to fuppofe, that a fhort infignificant infcription, like most of thefe which are preferved in the collections of Gruter, Reinefius, Gudius, Spon, and others, might have lain expofed to public view for many ages, without being particularly noticed by hiftorians or antiquaries. But the Prian Chronicle is not a fmall infcription, of no importance in the republic of letters; it is not an infcription which might have been concealed in a private library, or a cabinet, like a volume in manufcript; but it is a curious, learned, and comprehenfive fyftem of chronology, infcribed at a confiderable expence on a tablet of marble, comprehending a detail of the princi, al epochas of Greece, during a period of 1300 years. Yet neither Strabo, Pliny, Paufanias, nor Athenæus, who mention the mcft remarkable curiofities of different countries; neither Apollodorus, Diodorus Siculus, Tatian, Clemens Alexandrinus, nor Eufebius, who profelfedly treat of the fabulous ages of Greece, take the leaft notice of this wonderful monument of ancient learning. In short, we do not find in any writer of antiquity, either poet or hiftorian, geographer or chronologer, mythologist or fcholiaft, the moft diftant allution to the Parian Chronicle. We have indeed loft the works of many ancient authors: yet, perhaps, there never appeared a writer of any reputation, either in Greece or Rome, in all the ages of claffiçal antiquity, whofe name and fome account of his writings have not been tranfmitted to the prefent age. If this obfervation be not strictly true, the exceptions are few and inconfiderable. It was fuch a common prac tice |