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and order. 2. His most destructive wars were rather inroads than conquests. He invaded Turkestan, Kipzak, Russia, Hindostan, Syria, Anatolia, Armenia, and Georgia, without a hope or a desire of preserving those distant provinces. From thence he departed laden with spoil; but he left behind him neither troops to awe the contumacious, nor magistrates to protect the obedient natives. When he had broken the fabric of their ancient government, he abandoned them to the evils which his invasion had aggravated or caused; nor were these evils compensated by any present or possible benefits. 3. The kingdoms of Transoxiana and Persia were the proper field which he laboured to cultivate and adorn, as the perpetual inheritance of his family. But his peaceful labours were often interrupted, and sometimes blasted, by the absence of the conqueror. While he triumphed on the Volga or the Ganges, his servants, and even his sons, forgot their master and their duty. The public and private injuries were poorly redressed by the tardy rigour of inquiry and punishment; and we must be content to praise the institutions of Timour as the specious idea of a perfect monarchy. 4. Whatsoever might be the blessings of his administration, they evaporated with his life.

reward, the talents of a Christian engineer. The Genoese, who transported Amurath into Europe, must be accused as his preceptors; and it was probably by their hands that his cannon was cast and directed at the siege of Constantinople. The first attempt was indeed unsuccessful; but in the general warfare of the age, the advantage was on their side who were most commonly the assailants; for a while the proportion of the attack and defence was suspended; and this thundering artillery was pointed against the walls and towers which had been erected only to resist the less potent engines of antiquity. By the Venetians, the use of gunpowder was communicated without reproach to the sultans of Egypt and Persia, their allies against the Ottoman power; the secret was soon propagated to the extremities of Asia; and the advantage of the European was confined to his easy victories over the savages of the new world. If we contrast the rapid progress of this mischievous discovery with the slow and laborious advances of reason, science, and the arts of peace, a philosopher, according to his temper, will laugh or weep at the folly of mankind.

To reign, rather than to [Letter of Gibbon to Mrs Porten-Account of his Mode of Life at Lausanne.]

govern, was the ambition of his children and grandchildren, the enemies of each other and of the people. A fragment of the empire was upheld with some glory by Sharokh, his youngest son; but after his decease, the scene was again involved in darkness and blood; and before the end of a century, Transoxiana and Persia were trampled by the Uzbecks from the north, and the Turkmans of the black and white sheep. The race of Timour would have been extinct, if a hero, his descendant in the fifth degree, had not fled before the Uzbek arms to the conquest of Hindostan. His successors (the great Moguls) extended their sway from the mountains of Cashmir to Cape Comorin, and from Candahar to the Gulf of Bengal. Since the reign of Aurungzebe, their empire has been dissolved; their treasures of Delhi have been rifled by a Persian robber; and the richest of their kingdoms is now possessed by a company of Christian merchants, of a remote island in the northern ocean.

[Invention and Use of Gunpowder.]

The only hope of salvation for the Greek empire and the adjacent kingdoms, would have been some more powerful weapon, some discovery in the art of war, that should give them a decisive superiority over their Turkish foes. Such a weapon was in their hands; such a discovery had been made in the critical moment of their fate. The chemists of China or Europe had found, by casual or elaborate experiments, that a mixture of saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal, produces, with a spark of fire, a tremendous explosion. It was soon observed, that if the expansive force were compressed in a strong tube, a ball of stone or iron might be expelled with irresistible and destructive velocity. The precise era of the invention and application of gunpowder is involved in doubtful traditions and equivocal language; yet we may clearly discern that it was known before the middle of the fourteenth century; and that before the end of the same, the use of artillery in battles and sieges, by sea and land, was familiar to the states of Germany, Italy, Spain, France, and England. The priority of nations is of small account; none could derive any exclusive benefit from their previous or superior knowledge; and in the common improvement, they stood on the same level of relative power and military science. Nor was it possible to circumscribe the secret within the pale of the church; it was disclosed to the Turks by the treachery of apostates and the selfish policy of rivals; and the sultans had sense to adopt, and wealth to

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December 27, 1783.

The unfortunate are loud and loquacious in their complaints, but real happiness is content with its own silent enjoyment; and if that happiness is of a quiet uniform kind, we suffer days and weeks to elapse without communicating our sensations to a distant friend. By you, therefore, whose temper and understanding have extracted from human life, on every occasion, the best and most comfortable ingredients, my silence will always be interpreted as an evidence of content, and you would only be alarmed (the danger is not at hand) by the too frequent repetition of my letters. Perhaps I should have continued to slumber, I don't know how long, had I not been awakened by the anxiety which you express in your last letter. * . From this base subject I descend to one which more seriously and strongly engages your thoughts-the consideration of my health and happiness. And you will give me credit when I assure you, with sincerity, that I have not repented a single moment of the step which I have taken, and that I only regret the not having executed the same design two, or five, or even ten years ago. By this time I might have returned independent and rich to my native country; I should have escaped many disagreeable events that have happened in the meanwhile, and I should have avoided the parliamentary life, which experience has proved to be neither suitable to my temper nor conducive to my fortune. In speaking of the happiness which I enjoy, you will agree with me in giving the preference to a sincere and sensible friend; and though you cannot discern the full extent of his merit, you will easily believe that Deyverdun is the man. Perhaps two persons so perfectly fitted to live together were never formed by nature and education. We have both read and seen a great variety of objects; the lights and shades of our different characters are happily blended; and a friendship of thirty years has taught us to enjoy our mutual advantages, and to support our unavoidable imperfections. In love and marriage some harsh sounds will sometimes interrupt the harmony, and in the course of time, like our neighbours, we must expect some disagreeable moments; but confidence and freedom are the two pillars of our union, and I am much mistaken if the building ⚫ In this season be not solid and comfortable.

I rise (not at four in the morning, but) a little before eight; at nine I am called from my study to breakfast, which I always perform alone, in the English

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This inconstancy weakens the energies of the mind, creates in it a dislike to application, and even robs it of the advantages of natural good sense.

At

the aid of Caplin,* I perceive no difaansalue and Bentinck Street. Our ey passed in separate studies; we each other's door without a previous Yet let us avoid the contrary extreme, and respect knocking, and my apartment is method, without rendering ourselves its slaves. While formidable to strangers. I dress we propose an end in our reading, let not this end be and at two (an early hour, to which too remote; and when once we have attained it, let reconciled) we sit down to dinner. our attention be directed to a different subject. Ina female cook, well skilled in her pro-constancy weakens the understanding; a long and exmed to the taste of every nation; clusive application to a single object hardens and we had excellent mince-pies yester- contracts it. Our ideas no longer change easily into and the departure of our company- a different channel, and the course of reading to which friends-we read together some amus- we have too long accustomed ourselves is the only one Wat chess, or retire to our rooms, or that we can pursue with pleasure. go to the coffee-house. Between six We ought, besides, to be careful not to make the the semblies begin, and I am oppressed order of our thoughts subservient to that of our umber and variety. Whist, at shil- subjects; this would be to sacrifice the principal to was, is the game I generally play, and the accessory. The use of our reading is to aid the rubbers with pleasure. Between nine and us in thinking. The perusal of a particular work to our bread and cheese, and friendly gives birth, perhaps, to ideas unconnected with the sends us to bed at eleven; but these subject of which it treats. I wish to pursue these rs are too often interrupted by private or ideas; they withdraw me from my proposed plan of rizers suppers, which I have not the courage to reading, and throw me into a new track, and from rot, tavash I practise a laudable abstinence at the thence, perhaps, into a second and a third. best furnished tables. Such is the skeleton of my length I begin to perceive whither my researches 56: it is impossible to communicate a perfect idea tend. Their result, perhaps, may be profitable; it of the vital and substantial parts, the characters of is worth while to try; whereas, had I followed the De net and women with whom I have very easily high road, I should not have been able, at the end ansected myself in looser and closer bonds, accord-of my long journey, to retrace the progress of my az t: their inclination and my own. If I do not thoughts. dabire myself, and if Deyverdun does not flatter me, I already a general favourite; and as our likings nd dulkes are commonly mutual, I am equally fed with the freedom and elegance of manners, and (after proper allowances and exceptions) with the thy and amiable qualities of many individuals. The autumn has been beautiful, and the winter hitherto mild, but in January we must expect some were frost. Instead of rolling in a coach, I walk the streets, wrapped up in a fur cloak; but this exerese is wholesome, and, except an accidental fit of the put of a few days, I never enjoyed better health. I a no longer in Pavilliard's house, where I was airiost starved with cold and hunger, and you may be assured that I now enjoy every benefit of comfort, plenty, and even decent luxury. You wish me Lappy; acknowledge that such a life is more condave to happiness than five nights in the week passed in the House of Commons, or five mornings ¡ent at the Custom-house.

[Remarks on Reading.]

These remarks form the preface to a series of memoranda brun by Gibbon in 1761, under the title of Abstract of my Bording.]

This plan of reading is not applicable to our early studies, since the severest method is scarcely sufficient to make us conceive objects altogether new. Neither can it be adopted by those who read in order to write, and who ought to dwell on their subject till they have sounded its depths. These reflections, however, I do not absolutely warrant. On the supposition that they are just, they may be so, perhaps, for myself only. The constitution of minds differs like that of bodies; the same regimen will not suit all. individual ought to study his own.

Each

To read with attention, exactly to define the expressions of our author, never to admit a conclusion without comprehending its reason, often to pause, reflect, and interrogate ourselves, these are so many advices which it is easy to give, but difficult to follow. The same may be said of that almost evangelical maxim of forgetting friends, country, religion, of giving merit its due praise, and embracing truth wherever it is to be found.

But what ought we to read? Each individual must answer this question for himself, agreeably to the object of his studies. The only general precept that I would venture to give, is that of Pliny, 'to read much, rather than many things; to make a careful selection of the best works, and to render them fami'Reading is to the mind,' said the Duke of Vivonne liar to us by attentive and repeated perusals. Without Louis XIV., * what your partridges are to my chops.' expatiating on the authors so generally known and 1: is, in fact, the nourishment of the mind; for by approved, I would simply observe, that in matters of rating we know our Creator, his works, ourselves reasoning, the best are those who have augmented the fy, and our fellow-creatures. But this nourish-number of useful truths; who have discovered truths, is easily converted into poison. Salmasius had of whatever nature they may be; in one word, those read as much as Grotius, perhaps more; but their bold spirits who, quitting the beaten track, prefer being ferent modes of reading made the one an en- in the wrong alone, to being in the right with the ened philosopher, and the other, to speak multitude. Such authors increase the number of our ly, a pedant, puffed up with a useless eru- ideas, and even their mistakes are useful to their successors. With all the respect due to Mr Locke, I would not, however, neglect the works of those academicians who destroy errors without hoping to subIn works of fancy, stitute truth in their stead. invention ought to bear away the palm; chiefly that invention which creates a new kind of writing; and next, that which displays the charms of novelty in its subject, characters, situation, pictures, thoughts, and sentiments. Yet this invention will miss its effect, unless it be accompanied with a genius capable

Let us read with method, and propose to ourselves ei to which all our studies may point. Through get of this rule, gross ignorance often disgraces at readers; who, by skipping hastily and irreguarly from one subject to another, render themselves pable of combining their ideas. So many detached parcels of knowledge cannot form a whole. Iis English valet de chambre.

of adapting itself to every variety of the subject-successively sublime, pathetic, flowery, majestic, and playful; and with a judgment which admits nothing indecorous, and a style which expresses well whatever ought to be said. As to compilations which are intended merely to treasure up the thoughts of others, I ask whether they are written with perspicuity, whether superfluities are lopped off, and dispersed observations skilfully collected; and agreeably to my answers to those questions, I estimate the merit of such performances.

METAPHYSICAL WRITERS.

and ideas. From the structure of our minds he contended that we must for ever dwell in ignorance; and thus, by perplexing the relations of cause and effect, he boldly aimed to introduce a universal scepticism, and to pour a more than Egyptian darkness into the whole region of morals.' The Treatise on Human Nature' was afterwards re-cast and re-published under the title of An Inquiry concerning the Human Understanding; but it still failed to attract attention. He was now, however, known as a philosophical writer by his Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary, published in 1742; a miscellany of thoughts at once original, and calculated for popularity. The other metaphysical works of Hume are, an Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, the Natural History The public taste has been almost wholly withdrawn of Religion, and Dialogues on Natural Religion, which from metaphysical pursuits, which at this time conwere not published till after his death. The moral stituted a favourite study with men of letters. Ample system of Hume, that the virtue of actions depends scope was given for ingenious speculation in the in- wholly upon their utility, has been often combated, ductive philosophy of the mind; and the example of and is generally held to be successfully refuted by a few great names, each connected with some parti- Brown." In his own day, Dr Adam Smith thus cular theory of moral science, kept alive a zeal for ridiculed the doctrine. It seems impossible,' he such minute and often fanciful inquiries. In the says, 'that the approbation of virtue should be a higher branch of ethics, honourable service was rendered by Bishop Butler, but it was in Scotland that sentiment of the same kind with that by which we approve of a convenient and well-contrived buildspeculative philosophy obtained most favour and ing; or that we should have no other reason for celebrity. After a long interval of a century and praising a man than for that for which we commend a half, DR FRANCIS HUTCHESON (1694-1747) introa chest of drawers!' Mr Hume's theory as to duced into Scotland a taste for metaphysics, which, miracles, that there was more probability in the in the sixteenth century, had prevailed to a great error or bad faith of the reporter than in any inextent in the northern universities. Hutcheson was terference with the ordinary laws of nature, which a native of Ireland, but studied in the university of the observations of scientific men show to be unGlasgow for six years, after which he returned to swerving, was met, to the entire satisfaction of the his native country, and kept an academy in Dublin. public, by the able disquisition of Dr George CampAbout the year 1726 he published his Inquiry into bell, whose leading argument in reply was, that we Beauty and Virtue, and his reputation was so high have equally to trust to human testimony for an that he was called to be professor of moral philo- account of those laws, as for a history of the transsophy in Glasgow in the year 1729. His great work, actions which are considered to be an exception a System of Moral Philosophy, did not appear till after from them. In drawing his metaphysical theories his death, when it was published in two volumes, and distinctions, Hume seems to have been unmoved quarto, by his son. The rudiments of his philosophy by any consideration of consequences. He saw that were borrowed from Shaftesbury, but he introduced they led to universal scepticism-to doubts that a new term, the moral sense, into the metaphysical would not only shake all inductive science to pieces, vocabulary, and assigned to it a sphere of consider- but would put a stop to the whole business of life'able importance. With him the moral sense was a to the absurd contradiction in terms, a belief that capacity of perceiving moral qualities in action, there can be no belief'—but his love of theory and which excite what he called ideas of those qualities, paradox, his philosophical acuteness and subtlety, in the same manner as external things give us not involved him in the maze of scepticism, and he was merely pain or pleasure, but notions or ideas of hard-content to be for ever in doubt. It is at the same ness, form, and colour. We agree with Dr Brown in considering this a great error; a moral sense considered strictly and truly a sense, as much so as any of those which are the source of our direct external perceptions, and not a state or act of the understanding, seems a purely fanciful hypothesis. The ancient doctrine, that virtue consists in benevolence, was supported by Hutcheson with much acuteness; but when he asserts that even the approbation of our own conscience diminishes the merit of a benevolent action, we instinctively reject his theory as unnatural and visionary. On account of these paradoxes, Sir James Mackintosh charges Hutcheson with confounding the theory of moral sentiments with the criterion of moral actions, but bears testimony to the ingenuity of his views, and the elegant simplicity of his language.

DAVID HUME.

The system of Idealism, promulgated by Berkeley and the writings of Hutcheson, led to the first literary production of DAVID HUME-his Treatise on Human Nature, published in 1738. The leading doctrine of Hume is, that all the objects of our knowledge are divided in two classes-impressions

time to be admitted, in favour of this remarkable man, that a genuine love of letters and of philosophy,* and an honourable desire of distinction in these walks-which had been his predominating sentiment and motive from his earliest years, to the exclusion of more vulgar though dazzling ambitions-had probably a large concern in misleading him. In matters strictly philosophical, his thoughts were original and profound, and to him it might not be difficult to trace the origin of several ideas which have since been more fully elaborated, and exercised no small influence on human affairs.

[On Delicacy of Taste.]
[From Hume's 'Essays."]

Nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of the beauties either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting, They give a certain elegance of sentiment to which the rest of mankind are strangers. The

*Of this ruling passion of Hume we have the following outburst in his account of the reign of James L.:-'Such a superiority do the pursuits of literature possess above every other occupation, that even he who attains but a mediocrity in the in,

merits the pre-eminence above those that excel the most in the

common and vulgar professions.'

nothing; and whose purity and nature make a durable though not a violent impression on us.

[Estimate of the Effects of Luxury.]

[From the same.]

emotions which they excite are soft and tender. They draw off the mind from the hurry of business and interest; cherish reflection; dispose to tranquillity; and produce an agreeable melancholy, which, of all dispositions of the mind, is the best suited to love and friendship. In the second place, a delicacy of taste is favourable to love and friendship, by confining our Since luxury may be considered either as innocent choice to few people, and making us indifferent to the or blameable, one may be surprised at those preposcompany and conversation of the greater part of men. terous opinions which have been entertained concernYou will seldom find that mere men of the world, ing it; while men of libertine principles bestow praises whatever strong sense they may be endowed with, are even on vicious luxury, and represent it as highly very nice in distinguishing characters, or in marking advantageous to society; and, on the other hand, men those insensible differences and gradations which make of severe morals blame even the most innocent luxury, one man preferable to another. Any one that has and represent it as the source of all the corruptions, competent sense is sufficient for their entertain-disorders, and factions incident to civil government. ment: they talk to him of their pleasure and affairs We shall here endeavour to correct both these exwith the same frankness that they would to another; tremes, by proving, first, that the ages of refinement are and finding many who are fit to supply his place, they both the happiest and most virtuous; secondly, that never feel any vacancy or want in his absence. But, wherever luxury ceases to be innocent, it also ceases to make use of the allusion of a celebrated French to be beneficial; and when carried a degree too far, author, the judgment may be compared to a clock or is a quality pernicious, though perhaps not the most watch where the most ordinary machine is sufficient pernicious, to political society. to tell the hours, but the most elaborate alone can point out the minutes and seconds, and distinguish the smallest differences of time. One that has well digested his knowledge, both of books and men, has little enjoyment but in the company of a few select companions. He feels too sensibly how much all the rest of mankind fall short of the notions which he has entertained; and his affections being thus confined within a narrow circle, no wonder he carries them further than if they were more general and undistinguished. The gaiety and frolic of a bottle companion improves with him into a solid friendship; and the ardours of a youthful appetite become an elegant | passion.

[On Simplicity and Refinement.]

[From the same.]

It is a certain rule that wit and passion are entirely incompatible. When the affections are moved, there is no place for the imagination. The mind of man being naturally limited, it is impossible that all its faculties can operate at once; and the more any one predominates, the less room is there for the others to exert their vigour. For this reason a greater degree of simplicity is required in all compositions where men, and actions, and passions are painted, than in such as consist of reflections and observations. And, as the former species of writing is the more engaging and beautiful, one may safely, upon this account, give the preference to the extreme of simplicity above that of refinement.

To prove the first point, we need but consider the effects of refinement both on private and on public life. Human happiness, according to the most received notions, seems to consist in three ingredients; action, pleasure, and indolence. And though these ingredients ought to be mixed in different proportions, according to the particular disposition of the person, yet no one ingredient can be entirely wanting without destroying in some measure the relish of the whole composition. Indolence or repose, indeed, seems not of itself to contribute much to our enjoyment, but, like sleep, is requisite as an indulgence to the weakness of human nature, which cannot support an uninterrupted course of business or pleasure. That quick march of the spirits which takes a man from himself, and chiefly gives satisfaction, does in the end exhaust the mind, and requires some intervals of repose, which, though agreeable for a moment, yet, if prolonged, beget a languor and lethargy that destroy all enjoyment. Education, custom, and example, have a mighty influence in turning the mind to any of these pursuits; and it must be owned that, where they promote a relish for action and pleasure, they are so far favourable to human happiness. In times when industry and the arts flourish, men are kept in perpetual occupation, and enjoy as their reward the occupation itself, as well as those pleasures which are the fruit of their labour. The mind acquires new vigour, enlarges its powers and faculties, and, by an assiduity in honest industry, both satisfies its natural appetites and prevents the growth of unnatural ones, which commonly spring up when nourished by ease and idleness. Banish those arts from society, you deprive We may also observe, that those compositions men both of action and of pleasure; and leaving which we read the oftenest, and which every man of nothing but indolence in their place, you even destroy taste has got by heart, have the recommendation of the relish of indolence, which never is agreeable but simplicity, and have nothing surprising in the thought when it succeeds to labour, and recruits the spirits when divested of that elegance of expression and har-exhausted by too much application and fatigue. mony of numbers with which it is clothed. If the merit of the composition lie in a point of wit, it may strike at first; but the mind anticipates the thought in the second perusal and is no longer affected by it. When I read an epigram of Martial, the first line recalls the whole; and I have no pleasure in repeating to myself what I know already. But each line, each word in Catullus, has its merit; and I am never tired with the perusal of him. It is sufficient to run over Cowley ence; but Parnell, after the fiftieth reading, is as fresh as the first. Besides, it is with books as with women, where a certain plainness of manner and of dress is more engaging than that glare of paint, and airs, and apparel, which may dazzle the eye but reaches not the affections. Terence is a modest and bashful beauty, to whom we grant everything, because he assumes

Another advantage of industry and of refinements in the mechanical arts is, that they commonly produce some refinements in the liberal; nor can one be carried to perfection without being accompanied in some degree with the other. The same age which produces great philosophers and politicians, renowned generals and poets, usually abounds with skilful weavers and ship-carpenters. We cannot reasonably expect that a piece of woollen cloth will be brought to perfection in a nation which is ignorant of astronomy, or where ethics are neglected. The spirit of the age affects all the arts, and the minds of men being once roused from their lethargy and put into a fermentation, turn themselves on all sides, and carry improvements into every art and science, Profound ignorance is totally banished, and men enjoy the privilege of rational

creatures, to think as well as to act, to cultivate the pleasures of the mind as well as those of the body.

The more these refined arts advance, the more sociable men become. Nor is it possible, that when enriched with science, and possessed of a fund of conversation, they should be contented to remain in solitude, or live with their fellow-citizens in that distant manner which is peculiar to ignorant and barbarous nations. They flock into cities; love to receive and communicate knowledge; to show their wit or their breeding; their taste in conversation or living, in clothes or furniture. Curiosity allures the wise; vanity the foolish; and pleasure both. Particular clubs and societies are everywhere formed; both sexes meet in an easy and sociable manner; and the tempers of men, as well as their behaviour, refine apace. So that, beside the improvements which they receive from knowledge and the liberal arts, it is impossible but they must feel an increase of humanity, from the very habit of conversing together, and contributing to each other's pleasure and entertainment. Thus industry, knowledge, and humanity, are linked together by an indissoluble chain, and are found, from experience as well as reason, to be peculiar to the more polished, and what are commonly denominated the more luxurious ages.

[After some farther arguments] Knowledge in the arts of government naturally begets mildness and moderation, by instructing men in the advantages of humane maxims above rigour and severity, which drive subjects into rebellion, and make the return to submission impracticable, by cutting off all hopes of pardon. When the tempers of men are softened, as well as their knowledge improved, this humanity appears still more conspicuous, and is the chief characteristic which distinguishes a civilised age from times of barbarity and ignorance. Factions are then less inveterate, revolutions less tragical, authority less severe, and seditions less frequent. Even foreign wars abate of their cruelty; and after the field of battle, where honour and interest steel men against compassion as well as fear, the combatants divest themselves of the brute, and resume the man.

Nor need we fear that men, by losing their ferocity, will lose their martial spirit, or become less undaunted and vigorous in defence of their country or their liberty. The arts have no such effect in enervating either the mind or body. On the contrary, industry, their inseparable attendant, adds new force to both. And if anger, which is said to be the whetstone of courage, loses somewhat of its asperity by politeness and refinement, a sense of honour, which is a stronger, more constant, and more governable principle, acquires fresh vigour by that elevation of genius which arises from knowledge and a good education. Add to this, that courage can neither have any duration, nor be of any use, when not accompanied with discipline and martial skill, which are seldom found among a barbarous people. The ancients remarked that Datames was the only barbarian that ever knew the art of war. And Pyrrhus, seeing the Romans marshal their army with some art and skill, said with surprise, These barbarians have nothing barbarous in their discipline! It is observable that, as the old Romans, by applying themselves solely to war, were almost the only uncivilised people that ever possessed military discipline, so the modern Italians are the only civilised people, among Europeans, that ever wanted courage and a martial spirit. Those who would ascribe this effeminacy of the Italians to their luxury, or politeness, or application to the arts, need but consider the French and English, whose bravery is as incontestable as their love for the arts and their assiduity in commerce. The Italian historians give us a more satisfactory reason for this degeneracy of their countrymen. They show us how

the sword was dropped at once by all the Italian sovereigns; while the Venetian aristocracy was jealous of its subjects, the Florentine democracy applied itself entirely to commerce; Rome was governed by priests, and Naples by women. War then became the business of soldiers of fortune, who spared one another, and, to the astonishment of the world, could engage a whole day in what they called a battle, and return at night to their camp without the least bloodshed.

What has chiefly induced severe moralists to declaim against refinement in the arts, is the example of ancient Rome, which, joining to its poverty and rusticity virtue and public spirit, rose to such a surprising height of grandeur and liberty; but, having learned from its conquered provinces the Asiatic luxury, fell into every kind of corruption; whence arose sedition and civil wars, attended at last with the total loss of liberty. All the Latin classics whom we peruse in our infancy are full of these sentiments, and universally ascribe the ruin of their state to the arts and riches imported from the East; insomuch that Sallust represents a taste for painting as a vice, no less than lewdness and drinking. And so popular were these sentiments during the latter ages of the republic, that this author abounds in praises of the old rigid Roman virtue, though himself the most egregious instance of modern luxury and corruption; speaks contemptuously of the Grecian eloquence, though the most elegant writer in the world; nay, employs preposterous digressions and declamations to this purpose, though a model of taste and correctness. But it would be easy to prove that these writers mistook the cause of the disorders in the Roman state, and ascribed to luxury and the arts what really proceeded from an ill-modelled government, and the unlimited extent of conquests. Refinement on the pleasures and conveniences of life has no natural tendency to beget venality and corruption. The value which all men put upon any particular pleasure depends on comparison and experience; nor is a porter less greedy of money which he spends on bacon and brandy, than a courtier who purchases champagne and ortolans. Riches are valuable at all times, and to all men, because they always purchase pleasures such as men are accustomed to and desire: nor can anything restrain or regulate the love of money but a sense of honour and virtue; which, if it be not nearly equal at all times, will naturally abound most in ages of knowledge and refinement.

To declaim against present times, and magnify the virtue of remote ancestors, is a propensity almost inherent in human nature: and as the sentiments and opinions of civilised ages alone are transmitted to posterity, hence it is that we meet with so many severe judgments pronounced against luxury, and even science; and hence it is that at present we give so ready an assent to them. But the fallacy is easily perceived by comparing different nations that are contemporaries; where we both judge more impartially, and can better set in opposition those manners with which we are sufficiently acquainted. Treachery and cruelty, the most pernicious and most odious of all vices, seem peculiar to uncivilised ages, and by the refined Greeks and Romans were ascribed to all the barbarous nations which surrounded them. They might justly, therefore, have presumed that their own ancestors, so highly celebrated, possessed no greater virtue, and were as much inferior to their posterity in honour and humanity as in taste and science. An ancient Frank or Saxon may be highly extolled: but I believe every man would think his life or fortune much less secure in the hands of a Moor or Tartar than those of a French or English gentlemen, the rank of men the most civilised in the most civilised nations.

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