would an injudicious interpreter make with the following metaphor in Homer? Νυν γαρ δη παντεσσιν επί ξυρου ισταται ακμης. IL. X. 173. But Mr. Pope, by artfully dropping the particular image yet retaining the general idea, has happily preserved the spirit of his author, and at the same time humoured the different taste of his own countrymen. Each single Greek, in this conclusive strife, And now, Orontes, do you not think it high time to be dismissed from this fairy land? Permit me, however, just to add, that this figure, which casts so much light and beauty upon works of genius, ought to be entirely banished from the severer compositions of philosophy. It is the business of the latter to separate resemblances, not to find them, and to deliver her discoveries in the plainest and most unornamented expressions. Much dispute, and, perhaps, many errours, might have been avoided, if metaphor had been thus confined within its proper limits, and never wandered from the regions of eloquence and poetry. I am, &c. . LETTER XXV. TO PHILOTES. August 5, 1744. DON'T you begin to think that I ill deserve the prescription you sent me, since I have scarce had the manners even to thank you for it? It must be confessed I have neglected to honour my physician with the honour due unto him: that is, I have omitted not only what I ought to have performed by good-breeding, but what I am expressly enjoined by my Bible. I am not, however, entirely without excuse; a silly one, I own; nevertheless, it is the truth. I have lately been a good deal out of spirits. But at length the fit is over. Amongst the number of those things which are wanting to secure me from a return of it, I must always reckon the company of my friend. I have, indeed, frequent occasion for you; not in the way of your profession, but in a better: in the way of friendship. There is a healing quality in that intercourse, which a certain author has, with infinite propriety, termed the medicine of life. It is a medicine which, unluckily, lies almost wholly out of my reach; fortune having separated me from those few friends whom I pretend or desire to claim. General acquaintances, you know, I am not much inclined to cultivate; so that I am at present as much secluded from society as if I were a sojourner in a strange land. Though retirement is my dear delight, yet, upon some occasions, I think I have too much of it; and I agree with Balzac, que la solitude est certainement une belle chose: mais il y a plaisir d'avoir quelqu'un qui sache repondre; à qui on puisse dire de tems en tems, que la solitude est une belle chose. But I must not forget, that, as I sometimes want company, you may as often wish to be alone; and that I may, perhaps, be at this instant breaking in upon one of those hours which you desire to enjoy without interruption. I will only detain you, therefore, whilst I add that I am, &c. LETTER XXVI. TO PHIDIPPUS. May 1, 1745. If that friend of yours, whom you are desirous to add to the number of mine, were endued with no other quality than the last you mentioned in the catalogue of his virtues; I should esteem his acquaintance as one of my most valuable privileges. When you assured me, therefore, of the generosity of his disposition, I wanted no additional motive to embrace your proposal of joining you and him at **. To say truth, I consider a generous mind as the noblest work of the creation, and am persuaded, whereever it resides, no real merit can be wanting. It is, perhaps, the most singular of all the moral endowments. I am sure, at least, it is often imputed where it cannot justly be claimed. The meanest self-love, under some refined disguise, frequently passes upon common observers for this godlike principle; and I have known many a popular action attributed to this motive, when it flowed from no higher a source than the suggestions of concealed vanity. Good-nature, as it has many features in common with this virtue, is usually mistaken for it: the former, however, is but the effect, possibly, of a happy disposition of the animal structure, or, as Dryden somewhere calls it, of a certain "milkiness of blood :" whereas the latter is seated in the mind, and can never subsist where good sense and enlarged sentiments have no existence. It is entirely founded, indeed, upon justness of thought: which, perhaps, is the reason this virtue is so little the characteristick of mankind in general. A man, whose mind is warped by the selfish passions, or contracted by the narrow prejudices of sects or parties, if he does not want honesty, must undoubtedly want understanding. The same clouds that darken his intellectual views, obstruct his moral ones; and his generosity is extremely circumscribed, because his reason is exceedingly limited. It is the distinguishing pre-eminence of the Christian system, that it cherishes this elevated principle in one of its noblest exertions. Forgiveness of injuries, I confess, indeed, has been inculcated by several of the heathen moralists; but it never entered into the established erdinances of any religion, till it had the sanction of the great Author of ours. I have often, however, wondered that the ancients, who raised so many virtues and affections of the mind into divinities, should never have given a place in their temples to Generosity; unless, perhaps, they included it under the notion of FIDES or HONOS. But surely she might reasonably have claimed a separate altar, and superiour rites. A principle of honour may restrain a man from counteracting the social ties, who yet has nothing of that active flame of generosity, which is too powerful to be confined within the humbler boundaries of mere negative duties. True generosity rises above the ordinary rules of social conduct, and flows with much too full a stream to be comprehended within the precise marks of formal precepts. It is a vigorous principle in the soul, which opens and expands all her virtues far beyond those which are only the forced and unnatural productions of a timid obedience. The man who is influenced singly by motives of the latter kind, aims no higher than at certain authoritative standards, without ever attempting to reach those glorious elevations which constitute the only true heroism of the social character. Religion, without this sovereign principle, degenerates into slavish fear, and wisdom into a specious cunning: learning is but the avarice of the mind, and wit its more pleasing kind of madness. In a word, generosity sanctifies every passion, and adds grace to every acquisition of the soul; and if it does not necessarily include, at least it reflects a lustre upon the whole circle of moral and intellectual qualities. But I am running into a general panegyrick upon generosity, when I only meant to acknowledge the particular instance you have given me of yours, in being desirous of communicating to me a treasure, which I know much better how to value than how to deserve. Be assured, therefore, though Euphronius had none of those polite accomplishments you enumerate, yet, after what you have informed me concerning his heart, I should esteem his friendship of more worth, than all the learning of ancient Greece, and all the virtù of modern Italy. I am, &c. LETTER XXVII. TO SAPPHO.* March 10, 1731. WHILE yet no amorous youths around thee bow, Let maids less bless'd employ their meaner arts A young lady of thirteen years of age. |