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of injuries, nay, even hereditary enmities, were considered not as the weaknesses, but almost the absolute duties of human nature.

So seldom do we find this principle characterized in the writings of the ancients, that it was with some difficulty I could find a motto for this paper; and had I not been afraid of so early alarming my fellowcitizens, I had at one time some thoughts of referring to the Greek testament for that purpose. Homer has described but one of his heroes as being evnýs Tε краTEρÒS Tε, gentle and valiant. Even in the amiable Hector, who unites in his character the patriot, the son, the husband, and father, we do not find the superior generosity of foregoing his resentments. And Virgil's 'parcere subjectis' may rather be considered as descriptive of the imperious condescension of the Roman senate, than that refined lenity which strives to obliterate the obligation in the manner of conferring it. Cæsar indeed, in his letter to Oppius, has a profession of this virtue; but as I have in a great measure interwoven his defence with my subject, a quotation from him might have been considered as a partial evidence. I do not recollect that in any other passage of the more familiar classics, there is any thing perfectly descriptive of it; nay, even amidst the sounding pageantry of title with which their poets have decked the heathen deities, there is none in my opinion so comprehensively expressive of the divine attributes, as the simple and unaffected address of ALMIGHTY AND MOST MERCIFUL FATHER.-C.

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N° 21. MONDAY, APRIL 2, 1787.

Chloreaque, Sybarimque, Daretaque, Thersilochumque.
VIRGIL'S En. 12. v. 363.

Chloreus, and Sybaris, and Dares, and Thersilochus.
TO GREGORY GRIFFIN, Esq.

'SIR,

THE author, from whom I have adopted this motto, has been justly esteemed of all poets, both ancient and modern, the most pathetic. But perhaps, if every passage, whose excellence consisted in awaking the tender feelings of the reader, should be collected and compared together, there would not be found one, in which the writer has displayed a greater share of sensibility than in this single line which I have selected.

'Such indeed with me has been the influence of the above-mentioned hexameter, that I never could reflect, without indignation and astonishment, that Virgil, who had been so liberally rewarded for twenty-six lines in the sixth book of his Æneid, should for this never have received the gratuity of a farthing. In whatever point of view the two passages shall be examined, it will be found that the latter is in all respects equal if not superior to the former. There is no one, I believe, who will be so hardy as to deny, that the verse, for whose merit I am contending, is eminently distinguished by every quality, which the critics have deemed necessary to the constitution of the most beautiful poetry. If the greatest originality of thought, the noblest simplicity of expression, the most exquisite pathos, and the finest adaption of the sound to the sense, can

entitle a verse to the name of excellent, I shall not hesitate to pronounce, that the one I am speaking of, is as worthy of admiration as any in the poem.

In order to see whether it be so, let us try it in each of the above particulars; though I am sensible, that there are people who have been bold enough to assert, that the names which it contains are borrowed from history or tradition, I cannot but look upon myself as in duty bound to believe, that they are the genuine offspring of the poet's imagination. For as no such tradition is now current, and as no such history has ever been produced, charity demands of me, that I should incline to the favourable side of the question. In this I am the more particularly justified, when I reflect, that Virgil, from other parts of his works, has given us strong reason to conclude that he was abundantly capable of inventing for himself, what he is here accused of having taken from another. With regard to simplicity, I should hold myself much indebted to any individual, who would point out to me, in the whole compass of poetry, one single passage by whichin this respect the motto of my letter has ever been exceeded. Though the expression be plain and unaffected, there is nothing that borders upon meanness; and although it is copious, there is nothing redundant. Though it is level with the capacity of a child, it extorts admiration from the wisdom of old age.

'Let us now see how excellent is the versification; and how well it is suited to the meaning which the words are intended to convey. The author's purpose was certainly to awaken the finer sensibilities of the soul, to shew us how suddenly the life of mortals passeth away; and how many there are who seem to have existed, merely that they might by their fall give a lustre to others. How admirably the flow of the verse in consideration is calculated to suggest these ideas, the most undistinguishing and

most unpractised ear cannot but discern. For besides, that there is in the general run of the line something most musically mournful and melancholy, the Casura after the first foot has wonderfully tended to promote this effect. The reader naturally expects after a dactyle to rest upon a long syllable, but here he is unhappily deceived, and the ground which he imagined to be firm, sinks as it were beneath him. How ingeniously does this illustrate the case of mankind, who are apt to regard this life as a permanent possession; but soon find, that they have leaned upon a reed.

Lastly, let us consider this line with regard to the pathetic. For my own part, I could scarcely ever peruse it without shedding tears. If there be a man who would feel no emotion in reading over an enumeration of personages, whose existence is never mentioned but once, and that only in order to tell you how it was concluded, I should be apt, against such a one to exclaim with my favourite author,

-duris genuit te cautibus horrens

Caucasus, Hircanæque admôrunt ubera tigres.
-Caucasus, with rocks

Horrid, disclosed him from his flinty sides,

And fierce Hyrcanian tigers gave him suck.-TRAPP. Supposing, however, that people of this disposition are rarely to be met with, I shall take the liberty of addressing myself to my reader, as to one who will think and sympathize with me. Gentle, therefore, and courteous as I take thee to be, I cannot but imagine that thou art troubled with the same melancholy reflections as I am, whenever thou beholdest a catalogue of persons who are supposed indeed to have existed, but of whom history has left us no trace or memorial, except their names. For my part I must confess, that no invention of poets, however artful, no tale of novelists, however tender, no eloquence of orators, however elaborate, no narrative

of historians, however tragical, has such power to work upon my affections, as the simple and unadorned pages pages of a parish register. If I should attempt to account for this effect, I would refer it to two causes; the one, as they tend to inspire us with melancholy and mortifying ideas of human nature itself; and the other as they bring home a painful truth to the bosom of almost every individual. Considering how small is the number of persons, whose superior qualifications of intellect or body can enable them to survive the lapse of a single century, there are surely few, whose endowments, whether fancied or real, can prevent them from ranking themselves in the number of those who are soon to be forgotten. In reading those affecting catalogues of the living and the dead, which are to met with in almost every village of the kingdom, we are apt, upon recollecting the truth of the above observation, to put this simple question to ourselves, Have I any reason to suppose, that nature has bestowed upon me such preeminence of mind or body, as may rescue my name from that oblivion which is the general lot of humanity?' Here vanity and ambition tempt me to say Yes; but truth, like Tisiphone, stares me in the face, 'till I am compelled to answer No.

Dreary as this idea may be, perhaps we are little less mortified, when we turn from ourselves, in order to survey the world at large; to reflect, that amidst so many millions, so inconsiderable a portion should be able to erect for themselves a memorial of a thousand years; that few have wanted the vanity to aspire to what still fewer have had the felicity to succeed in; that the same end has been attempted by means diametrically opposite; and that the most laborious efforts of virtue and vice, of laudable and perverted ambition, have often been exhausted in vain.

Indeed, the idea of being utterly forgotten after death is so repugnant to the first and ruling princi

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