5^r
i
I I
intlieCttpofllfttigork
LIBRARY
MEMOIRS
OF
THE LIFE
OF
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, B.A.
FORMERLY
FELLOW OF JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
BY THE EDITORS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
AriTH AN APPENDIX, CONSISTING CHIEFLY 01' ORIGINAL LETTERS AND PAPEHf.
all his study bent
To worship God aright, and know his works
Not hid, nor those things last whirh might preserve
Freedom and Peace to men. Mii.ton, P. L. xl.sr;.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR J, JOHNSON, ST.PAUl/s CHUECII-V A R H.
r.Y T. EENSiEY, tOLT COCltT.
1804.
^5
M^
4-
V
CONTENTS
TO
VOL. 11.
Introduction. . . . , Page 1
CHAP. I.
Continuation of '^ Silva Critica. . . .Dr. Kipling, Dr.
Milner Mr. Tyrwhitt's liberality " Spirit of
Christianity compared," &c. 1792 — 1795 5
CHAP. n.
Mr. Wakefield's Answer to the ^' Age of Reason". . . . Remarks on the proceedings against that work, &c. 1794—1797 18
CHAP. HI.
Editions of Horace. .. .Virgil. ... Greek tragedies.... Projected edition of Pope's works, ..." Observations on Pope". , . ." Poetical translations". . . . "Bion and Moschus" Hackney Club. 1794, 1795 50
CHAP. IV.
Active liberality of Mr. Wakefield. ... *^ Reply to the Letter of Edmund Burke, Esq. to a noble Lord.". . . 1794—1797 66
CHAP. V.
Mr. Wakefield's edition of Pope's Homer. ..." General Observations on Homer and his Translators"..,, Publication of Lucretius. . , . Diatribe. ..." Letter to VOL. II. • a
1
r-j
CONTENTS.
Jacob Bryant, Esq." " Letter to William Wil-
berforce, Esq." 179^, 1797 81
CHAP. VI.
Mr. Wakefield's " Reply to some Parts of the Bishop of
LandafTs Address to the People of Great Britain"
Proceedings against the publishers. .. .The author's trial and defence. 1798, 1799 115
CHAP. vn.
Mr. Wakefield called up for judgment. . . .His Address
to the Judges Commitment to the King's Bench
prison. . . . Brought up to the Court for sentence. . . . Address from Mr. Justice Grose. . . . Sentence. . . . Generous testimony of attachment from his friends and the public. 1799 142
CHAP. VIII.
Mr. Wakefield's removal to Dorchester gaol, and circum- stances connected with his imprisonment. 1799. • .
162
CHAP. IX.
Visits to Mr. Wakefield Literary projects Mr.
Dodson's legacy. 1799 178
CHAP. X.
Circumstances of Mr. Wakefield's imprisonment, con- tinued. . . . Proposals for a Greek and English Lexi- con Letters. 1800 200
CHAP. XL
Imitation of Juvenal. .. .Letters from Mr. Wakefield .... Dr. Darwin. . . . Scripture Lexicon, &c. 1800.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. XII.
Mr. Wakefield's letters to his Dau2;hter. . . . Attendance on four condemned criminals. . . . Letters from the Rev. Dr. Parr and the Rev. Dr. Geddes. . . . Bis re- lease from the gaol. 1801 245
CHAP XIII.
Mr.Wakefield's application in behalf of the prisoners. . . . Observations on the regulations of the prison, &c. from his miscellaneous papers. 1801 266
CHAP. XIV.
Mr. Wakefield's return to Hackney. . . . Lectures on Viro-il His illness and death. 1801 283
CHAP. XV.
Miscellaneous observations relative to Mr.Wakefield's character 297
CHAP. XVI.
Respect paid to Mr.Wakefield's memory. . . . Letter from
Dr. Parr Funeral. . . .Sketches of his character. . . .
Verses on the occasion of his death. 1801 321
APPENDIX. (B.) Essay '^ On the Origin of Alphabetical Characters". . .339
APPENDIX. (C.)
Letters to Mr. Wakefield from Professors Heyne and Jacobs 363
APPENDIX. (D )
Extract from the Appendix to Mr.Wakefield's printed Defence 377
2 INTRODUCTION.
gaging qualities of his social intercourse. There too he cultivated friendships which were very dear to him, and which those who were honoured by his attachment will remember till with them also *' love and hatred are alike forgotten."
It is well known to his associates that just before his *' purposes were so unex- pectedly broken off" he was meditating a continuation of his Memoirs to the period of his liberation from the gaol of Dorchester. But there is great reason to regret that he relied so much on his tenacious memory, without even sketching a plan or arranging the materials for his intended work.
Under these unfavourable circumstances this Continuation must be almost entirely confined to a general account of his later works, and some events connected with them. These works we propose to notice according to the order in which they ap- peared, adopting the author's language when- ever the occasion will allow. In the exe- cution of those parts necessary to connect such a narrative we make no pretensions to the pleasing talent which our friend posr
INTRODUCTION. 3
sessed of giving importance even to circum- stances comparatively trivial.
Of the disadvantageous form in w^hich this publication must now appear we are fully sensible. Yet we trust that it may still discover a prevailing regard to Truth and Freedom; ^ a sentiment which in early life Mr. Wakefield adopted as his motto: to these his mind was ardently devoted, and their great interests he endeavoured to ad- vance, as well by the occasional amusements of his leisure as by the occupations of his studious hours.
Nor should we fear the contradiction of those who are acquainted with all the circumstances of his history, if we added, that his life itself was at length sacri- ficed to those great principles of human virtue.
" faithful found.
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified;
Nor number, nor example with him wrought.
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind." ■*
* AAijSsjav KM naff/jtriav. '' Par. L. v. 896.
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE
OF
THE REV. GILBERT fVAKEFIELD.
CHAP. I.
Continuation of'Silva Critica" — Dr. Kipling, Dr.Milner — Mr. Tyrwhitt's Liberality — " Spirit of Christianity com- pared" ^c.
1792—1795.
The " Memoirs of the Life of Gilbert Wake- field " were carried on by himself to March 1792. At this period there was nothing- in his personal history sufficiently remarkable to in- terest the public.
The small portion of leisure which he al- lowed himself was chiefly passed amidst his family, by whom he was so deservedly beloved, and whom he was so well fitted to entertain and instruct. The leading objects of his studies M^ere the prosecution of a work which we shall presently mention, and the collection
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and arrangement of materials for his editions of various classic authors, some account of which will be given in the progress of this narrative.
Of Mr. Wakefield's publications that which claims our earliest notice is the third part of his " Silva Critica," dedicated, like thej^r*^, to the university of Cambridge.
The design of this curious and learned work was explained on its first appearance/ Nor is it ill described by a periodical critic, who commends the author for making the books of the New Testament a " stem, around which he entwines many beautiful wreaths of flowers, gathered- from the garden of classic learning.'"* Perhaps the person could not easily be
"^ " Memoirs," I. 2g2. It has been objected to this work, that some of the criticisms are unimportant, and others ill supported. Of this, no one was more sensible than their author. He attri- butes the defect, in a great measure, to the early period at which many of them were composed, and the unfavourable circumstance of his residing in a very retired part of the country, almost wholly secluded from the advantages of a good library and the intercourse of literary men. On the other hand, he frankly avows his persuasion, that many of the articles in these volumes, especially those employed in the il- lustration and explanation of the New Testament, are both new, and capable of enduring the severest test. See Praefat. ad Lucret, I. p xviii.
'' Month. Rev. N. S. v. 5/1.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 7
named who rejoiced more than Mr. Wakefield in a conviction that Christianity was neither a collection of paradoxes, *' at which Reason stands aghast, and Faith herself is half con- founded,'"" nor " a cunningly devised fable," but an intelligible guide fitted to direct the *' way- faring man " in the road to happiness. And in the continuation of these memoirs it will be found that as opportunities presented^ it was his highest ambition, in imitation of his great Exemplar, " to preach the gospel to the poor, and to bind up the broken-hearted."
Yet the course of a scholar's life naturally led him among persons of cultivated minds, and he could not but observe their too fre- quent neglect and disregard of Biblical learn- ing. He was therefore desirous of presenting those subjects in such an attractive form as might possibly secure more general attention; for he was accustomed to declare his persuasion that persons of taste and curiosity, especially in early life, would be often encouraged se- riously to examine the Jewish and Christian Scriptures if tutors would recommend those writings to their attention, to be studied like
* Bishop Hurd's Sermons, IL 287.
f See, in a subsequent chapter, Mr, Wakefield's intercourse with condemned criminals in Dorchester gaol.
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Other literary productions^ instead of hastily occupying their minds with the opposite sys- tems of opinion, which by different sects they have been supposed to countenance.^
Those who were sufficiently intimate with our friend to observe the course of his daily employments, or who have acquainted them- selves M'ith his various writings, will easily perceive that in prosecuting his studies, or of- fering the result of them to the public, he never lost sight of this important object.
His theological productions are graced v/ith many a classic ornament. In his other works, whether political or literary, he seizes every fair occasion, by allusions, or the accom- modation of apposite and striking passages, to acknowledge the sacred M^riters as " the men of his counsel," Such, especially, were his views in the plan and prosecution of the Silva Critica.
Kfourth part of this work (with the addition of three Orphic hymns from manuscripts, never before published,) was prepared for the press in 1792, as appears by an Advertisement to the Reader, dated the first of November in that year ; yet for several months the publication was delayed by the following unexpected cir- ctinistances.
5 See Mem. I. 341.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 9
A short time only had passed since the au- tlior dedicated the third part of the Silva Critica to his Ai?}ia Mater, as a grateful ac- knowledgment of her liberality, in affording him the advantages of the University press. The terms upon which an author is allowed these advantages have been explained by him- self.'' The failure of his application, on the present occasion, he attributed' to the un- friendly interference of Dr. Kipling and Dr, JNlilner, The first of these gentlemen has, for several years, executed the important office of King's Professor of Divinity, one of the nu- merous preferments of a justly celebrated, and professedly disinterested prelate; " a deputy, who excites in the gown some regret of his illustrious principal and predecessor." ^ Of Dr. Milner some account has been given in the former volume.'
These two Christian divines had just bom a ver}^ distinguished part in the prosecutioa of Mr. Frend, fellow of Jesus College, for publishing a pamphlet in titled " Peace and Union." The proceedings upon that occasion sufficiently shew the illiberality of which these
^ Mem. I. 279, i Silv. Crit. p. 4. Pref.
^ Wakefield's intended " Address to the Judges," p. 21. 1 Mem. I. 13b'.
]0 ' LIFE OF
gentlemen were capable.'" Yet it might have been fairly presumed that a love of literature would, at least, have moderated the present hostility. Nor could it have been previously apprehended that in an English university any hindrance should have been opposed to the publication of a work so classical, in its design and execution, as the Silva Critica."
"" See " Account of the Proceedings against W. Fiend, fel- low of Jesus College," iic.
" Mr. Wakefield thus expresses his surprise and disap- pointment at this unexpected failure of academical support:
" Mirari quidem subit, et lectorem porro mirari forsitan subibit, istos fortunse filios, bonis omnibus diffluentes, mihi favorem Academicinn, rem tantillam inviderej mihi, quo- cunque demum successu, iraprobo saltern studio, dies ac noctes, mente imperterrita, tot inter tantasque asperitates rerum ver- sato et molestias circumcursantium negotiorum, laboriosissime ingenuas literas secutoj mihi, inquam, per leges iniquissimas ab omnibus Ecclesice reipubliccequc emolumentis dudum excluso, et jam tandem Academicis, qualesquales erant, ut videtur, in posterura excludendo! An vero melius aliquid et benignius de Almd Matre, quondiim mea, sperare concedeturj nee apud syndicos, ut olim Persis Medisque se res habebat, legibus stari immutabilibus? Utinam veniret illud tempus, utinam ille dies illucesceret, cilm spatia nostrae Academice (quam nemo vel eorum omnium, quos in sinu suo fovet atque indulgentia, votis magis benevolis solet prosequi) sine jusjurandorum re- ligione aliisque fidei scilicet munimentis et aedificii Christiani tibicinibus, patebunt unicuique, comraendato moribus et doc- trinae cupido ! ciim non amplius ore impudentissimo coram Deo
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. U
The friendly aid which the university no longer bestowed, Mr. Wakefield had the satis- faction of receiving from a member of that body, to whose highly respectable character and talents he had already offered a willing testimony, ° and whose prompt assistance upon this emergency he has recorded in terms of gratefid affection.''
The Rev. Robert Tyrwhitt of Jesus Col- lege, well known to the religious world by his very distinguished Biblical attainments, gener- ously undertook to defray the expence of print- ing this fourth part of the " Silva Critica," which was at length pubhshed in the middle of the year 1793.
In 1795 appeared the fifth, and concluding, part of this work, in the preface to which the author acknowledges the renewed liberality of" his former friend,'' whose patronage still at- tended him.
et homlnibus mcntietur Glorice statua, in comitio Canta- Irigiensi posita, dum prolpquitur Virgilianum illud petitorum invitaraentum ;
CuNCTi adsint, meriteeque ex^ectent prcemia palmcej''
Silv. Crit. Pars Quarta, p. vi. Q Dedication to Translation of New Test. P Silv. Crit. Pars Quarta, Pref. v and vii. ■i Silv. Crit. Pars Quinta et Ultima, Pref. iii.
<e
12 LIFE OF
If the expressions of that gentleman's at- tachment were entirely withheld amidst the various fortunes of Mr. Wakefield's latter years, considering the circumstances connected with that period, we are in some danger of attri- buting this decline of friendship to the baneful influence of political timidity ; perhaps to an apprehension of encountering the slights or censures of old connexions. Such " fears of the brave and follies of the wise" the history of human imperfection has too often exhi- bited.
Had Mr. Waketield survived to touch upon this delicate subject, we are persuaded that he would have been disposed to repeat the senti- ments which he had expressed on another oc- casion. He woidd surely have said concerning this inattention of his venerable friend, which his situation made him feel with peculiar re- gret, as he frequently acknowledged, that "his uniform life of benevolence and purity, an or- nament to the gospel, demanded a candid in- terpretation of his conduct."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 13
In the month of February 179-^, a- short time before the commencement of the second campaign of the late disastrous war, Mr. Wake- field published " The Spirit of Christianity compared with the Spirit of the Times in Great Britain;" a pamphlet possessing considerable merit as a literary composition, and which was so favorably received as to pass, in a short time, to a third edition.
This tract was designed to demonstrate and enforce a truth of no common moment to a nation calling itself Christian; for the author undertakes to shew that the precepts and spirit of the gospel are incompatible with those maxims of worldly policy which are so gene- rally applauded : yet upon such authorities churchmen and statesmen are too often dis- posed to give the specious denomination of " just and necessary " to every war in which ambition or interest may tempt them to engage.
As this was the first publication in which Mr. Wakefield animadverted on the late war, and the measures of the ministry who con- ducted it, we shall quote the author's own ac- count of the motives that induced him occa- sionally to quit his favourite walks of literature for the thorny road of political contention.
14 LIFE OF
" Those who know me personally will be very ready to bear testimony to the privacy and seclusion of my life ; and the last leaf' of this little pamphlet will abundantly ascertain to those who do not know me, that of late, at least, ' my days must have been honestly la- borious, and my nights intensely studious,' in a manner utterly inconsistent with clandestine plots against government, and all associations with republicans and levellers for the overthrow of our constitution : but the circumstances of the times impressed my mind with such force, as to impel me with reluctance to interrupt the course of my studies for a few hours, to deliver to the public these cursory reflections arising from some palpable specimens of what appears to me an antichristian spirit.' It is
' Containing a list of his publications.
' " For the mere support of life, and as a refuge from fa- mine and distress, manufacturers necessarily become soldiers ; and from no predilection for the cause. They are led into the field to the deliberate destruction of men^ against whom they have not conceived the least emotion of resentment] and whom they hew in pieces without one impulse of private animosity, at the mere instigation of their superiors. Is it possible to devise a case more wretchedly abandoned, more degraded even below brutality itself, than thisj if humanity be a virtue, if love and good-will the characteristics of reye/aiion ?"
Spirit of Christianity, p. 13.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 15
my wish and intention, whilst I call things by their true names, to write in conformity to the voice of that rehgion, whose influence directs and animates my pen on this occasion : but I could not acquit myself to my own conscience for a total silence, upon a reliection, that pos- sibly some individuals at least, into whose hands these remarks might fall, would l)e led to a serious examination of their sentiments and conduct."'
And now we should not do justice to Mr. Wakefield if v.^e omitted to quote the following passages. They will be found to contain senti- ments very different from those which the misrepresentations of party-spirit have too often attributed to their author.
" I here solemnly declare, that nothing can be more remote from my intention, than disrespect for the person of the sovereign ; and that the errors of government, as I deem them, excite in my mind a most unfeigned sorrow. It may readily be presumed, that a student is as much interested in ti^angaiUify as any man ; and however he may wish for radical reforma- tion by pacific means, can have but little to hope from 'violent ixvohitions; where the still small voice of letters and philosophy is drowned
' Spirit of Christianity, p. 9, 3d edit.
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ill the din of arms and the clamours of en- thusiasm.""
" If ecclesiastical information M-ere com- mitted to my hands, I would not copy the example of the French ; but the contrary. Not one living wight of the order of Melchise- dec, from his grace at Lambeth to the most ignoble curate in the metropolis, should be de- prived, by my consent, of his preferment for his life. Even reformation itself would be dearly purchased at the expence of comfort to so many amiable conscientious men and ex- cellent scholars, as may be found undoubtedly in the Church of England.^
The pamphlet thus concludes: '' nor could any motive, but that of a strong sense of duty, have impelled me to come forward to the public on this occasion. But there is a season when inactivity were a crime; and public ad- monition, even at the hazard of personal com- forts, rises into an indispensable obligation; to those at least, who are desirous that their mas- ter should not be ashamed of them at his second coming. I am expecting with trembling soli- citude, amidst the incessant occupations of a literary life, that alarming catastrophe, which the signs of the times indicate, in my mind, to
" Spirit of Christianity, p. 1 J , note. ^- Ibid. p. 2\, note.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 17
be rapidly approaching ; prepared to act or suffer, to live and die, in the service of Chris- tianity; M^hich is no other than the cause of liberty, and the consequent happiness of the human race." ^
V tl
Spirit of Christianity," p. 3p.
VOL. J I.
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CHAP. II.
Mr. If akrfield's Answer to the "Age of ReasoTi" — Remarks oil the Proceedings against that Work, tsfc.
1791—1797.
Mr. Wakefield expressed his attachment to Christianity not only by inculcating its genuine tendencies, but also by displaying its commanding evidence. This appeared on the following occasion.
In 1794 was published "The Age of Reason, being an Investigation of true and fabulous Theology, by Thomas Paine," whose tract in- titled " Common Sense," has connected his name with the American revolution, and whose "Rights of Man" excited in this country that extraordinary attention which is fresh in the recollection of everv reader.
The alarm expressed by Mr. Pitt and his colleagues in administration on the rapid cir- culation of the latter pamphlet is well known, together m ith the severe expedients, even to a ''\i<>our beyond the law," >vhich were occa-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. ig
sioiially adopted to check the progress of a work so obnoxious.
The author had removed to Paris, havino- been chosen a deputy to the National Conven- tion. Under the bloody tyranny of Robe- spierre, he was imprisoned for a supposed con- nection with the party of the Gironde; and, as we learn from an account lately published in America, very narrowly escaped the guillotine.
During that imprisonment he appears to have taken up the subject of theology, and prepared for publication " The Age of Reason."
Any work proceeding from the pen of so conspicuous a writer would be secure of con- siderable notice; yet his superficial and de- clamatory manner of treating this subject, and his egregious deficiency even in the ele- ments of Biblical knowledge, have compelled some of his most zealous admirers to admit that he now stepped beyond his province.
Perhaps it may not be unfair to say in the language of Jortin, respecting an opponent of Erasmus, that " Whatsoever motive [Mr. Paine] might have had for his undertaking, he certainly deserved to be blamed for having treated of subjects which he understood not," and that " it shews a malignity of mind, and a meanness of spirit in a man, to make those 2
20 LIFE OF
persons odious, who are employed in giving in- struction to the public on important matters, of which he knows nothing."''
Among various strictures on this pamphlet, Mr. Wakefield published, with his usual ra- pidity of composition, " An Examination of the Age of Reason,"^ in which he premises what few will venture to deny, '' that the for- mer writings of Thomas Paine abound with indications of original conception, and pro-
^ " Life of Erasmus," i. 74.
a The following motto from Dr. Middleton, which Mr. Wakefield has prefixed to this work, is veiy apposite, and well illustrates his own practice :
" I persuade myself that the life and faculties of man, at the best but short and limited, cannot be employed more ra- tionally than in the search of knowledge^ and especially of that sort which relates to our duty, and conduces to our hap- piness. In these inquiries therefore, wherever I perceive any glimmering of truth before me, I readily pursue, and endea- vour to trace it to it's source, without any reserve or caution of pushing the discovery too far, or opening too great a glare of it to the public. 1 look upon the discovery of any thino- which is true, as a valuable acquisition to society j which can- not possibly hurt or obstruct the good effect of any other truth whatsoever : for they all partake of one common essence, and necessarily coincide with each other j and like the drops of rain, which fall separately into the river, mix themselves with the stream, and strengthen the general current."
Preface to Middjleton's " Free Liquiry," Sec.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 21
found thought, of comprehension and sagacity far beyond the vigour of ordinary minds." He considered himself " not unhkely to serve the cause of revealed truth, with manly and unprejudiced enquirers, by an examination of a deistical pamphlet, which seemed so fair a candidate for extensive circulation;" regretting that " by a strange perversity, whilst natural philosophy, politics, and morals, are pursued with unremitting diligence of investigation, Revelation alone seems an object of inferior consideration: her evidences, it is conceived, may be decided upon without learning, her pretensions judged without discussion, or rather disregarded altogether, as unworthy the no- tice of the profound philosophers of modern times.""
Mr. Wakefield (as is well known) was what is generally called an Unitarian Christian, re- jecting " the sway of creeds and councils, of hierarchies and churches." " He was not con- cerned in the difficult task of supporting the antiquated systems framed by fallible and in- terested men, or of proving every doctrine to be true which happened to have been long- established. On the contrary he quotes that
^ " Exam, of the Age of Reason," p. 1 & 3. c Ibid. p. 4.
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part of the " Age of Reason," M'hicli describes " the moral nuschief M'hich mental lying'' has produced in society," as a "paragraph, replete with manly sense, and dignified morality, con- veyed in simple but energetic language.'"'
But he is soon at issue with Mr. Paine, and proceeds to shew that what he would degrade into a system of " Fabulous Theology" is the most valuable source of human knowledge.^
'^ " It is a most shocking reflection to every lover of truth and honesty, that a requisition to acknowledge a multitu- dinous mass of theological and political propositions, denomi- nated articles of religion, which many have never read, which they w^ho read cannot understand, and which the imposers of them have never yet been able to expound with an uniformity of interpretation, should be made an indispensable condition to the privilege of preaching the truths of Christianity ; nay the basis of that preaching, and the criterion of those truths."
"Exam." p. 13. See also "^Mem." I. 121, &c,
<• Ibid. p. 11.
' In answer to a remark that " Every national church or religion has established itself by pretending some special corn- mission from God, communicated to certain individuals," Mr. Wakefield observes, that " what the Jews and Christians maintain in behalf of their respective systems, is simply this : That their founders delivered to mankind most rational senti- ments of the divine nature, of his existence, and his provi- dential government of the world, at a time when ignorance and depiavation, Avith respect to these fundamental canons of religious rectitude, were almost universally predominant, even
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 23
He then offers to the ingenuity of Unbe- lievers that problem ' which they have never yet, we apprehend, been prepared to solve ;
among the superior and most enlightened portion of mankind at large.
" With relation to the writings of tlie Jews," he adds, " it is altogether undeniable, and is a truth of the utmost weight and magnitude, the force of which no sophistry can baffle, and no scepticism can elude, that our accumulated discoveries in science and philosophy, and all our progress in other parts of knowledge, have not enabled the wisest of the moderns to ex- cel the noble sentiments conveyed in the didactic and devo- tional compositions of the Old Testament ; compositions, many of which existed, without dispute, long before the earliest writ- ings of heathen antiquity, and at a period, when even those illustrious instructors of mankind, the Greeks and Romans, were riot only strangers to alphabetic characters, but wholly barbarous and unknown." Ibid, pp. 14&J5,
^ " It would gratify me much, I confess, to be informed by some of our philosophical literati, in what manner these contemners of the Jews, and of the Mosaic system, can account for this singular phcenomenon; which indeed might be stated with abundantly more fulness and cogency, if it were neces- sary on this occasion. Has Thomas Paine the deist, or any of oiir modern atheists, the intrepidity to undertake a solution of this, surely highly interesting, problem in the history of the human mind? — Besides, let any man compare the simple morality and the noble precepts of the gospel, as they relate to the attiibutes of God, and the duties of humanity, with the monstrous theology, with the subtleties and the contradictoiy schemes of contemporary moralists among the Greeks and Homajis (who nevertheless had, in all probability, profited
24 LIFE OF
and concludes, from those inquiries for which his extensive literature had so well fitted him, that " very few philosophers indeed, in all probability, (if one) have illuminated mankind with light unborrowed from the candles of the sanctuary."^ A similar sentiment is thus ex- pressed in one of the allegorical Essays of a distinguished moralist; '' I looked then upon the road of Reaso??, which was indeed, so far as it reached, the same with that of Religion; nor had Reason discovered it but by her in-
mediately or immediately by the Jewish system, which could Dot exist, like a light nhining in a dark place, without diffus- ing some influence through the neighbourhood) and reflect at the same time, that a perfect manual of morality may be col- lected from a few pages in the Gospel, but must be picked in Pagan writers from a multitude of discordant volumes and a mass of incoherency and absurdity, and then condescend to furnish us with an explanation of what must be allowed on all hands a most surprizing factj namely, the existence of such superior intelligence in a Jewish carpenter at Nazareth. So then, though we concede to Mr. Paine, ' that the way to God was open to every man alike,' we affirm of the Jewish and Christian dispensations, that they only were this way to any man desirous of entertaining rational notions of God, and hu- man duty." Ibid, pp. 15 ^ l6.
Mr.Wakefield's argument has been ably supported by other writers, especially by Archdeacon Paley, " Evid." ii. 306. 2ded, and " Campbell on Mir." partii. sect./.
s Ibid, p. 17.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 25
struction ; yet, when she had once been taught it, she clearly saw that it Avas right; and Prick had sometimes incited her to declare that she discovered it herself, and persuaded her to offer herself as a guide to Religion, whom, after many vain experiments, she found it her highest privilege to follo>v." ''
We shall next quote the animated close of Mr. Wakefield's pamphlet; in which his views are developed, and his feelings described, at a crisis of public affairs the most awful and alarming.
'' I have now finished my remarks on this pamphlet of Thomas Paine, which have been extended thus far, more in deference to the deserved celebrity of the man, than the powers of the disputant: nor am I conscious to myself of eluding any difficulty, or shrinking from the terrors of a sinyle aro'ument directed ao-ainst the authenticity of revealed religion, in the course of this examination; but, to the best of my ability, a concise answer to evej'y objec- tion, not completely puerile and impertinent, has been specifically given, or is virtually in- cluded in this series of observations. Nor, in conclusion, will I dissemble one of my most
'' Johnson's '' Vision of Theodore," Works, ii. 412.
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urgent inducements to this publication to have been, an ambition to declare before the face of my fellow-citizens in the most unreserved manner, that one, in the midst of a general obloquy on reformers, as infidels and atheists, is indeed a zealous advocate for Christianity y but, as becomes the disciple of a loxulif and pacific master, who regarded no man's person, with as warm an enthusiasm for the universal equality, and the unalienable rights of man, as ever actuated the breast even of the ' hal- lowed IMlLTON.'
" The more perilous the times, with the more animation will a genuine votary of a Crucified Saviour, who looks ' for a better country, that is a heavenh',' feel himself im^ pelled to a bold and open profession of the practical principles of Love, Peace, and Li- berty, M'ithout distinction and reserve, to the whole human race. This is the profession of our faith before atheists and unbelievers^ before ^principalities and powers,' before minis- ters and kings: from this profession, neither shall shame seduce, nor danger terrify. It shall be our guide through life, our support in death, and, we trust, our recompence for ever!"
" I implore, finally, the omnipotent con-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 27
trollcr of events, who ' ruleth in the kingdom of men and giveth it to wliomsoever he Avill,'' to consider liis creature man in this most mo- mentous crisis of our affairs! — to annihilate every sentiment of national hostility in every breast; that th€ horrid circumstances of war and slaughter may no where exist, but in the bloody page of history, as awful memorials of savage unregenerated man ! to regard the sorrows of the distressed African, and to com- pensate with ages of consolation * the years in which he has seen adversity !"" — to confirm and comfort the glorious martyrs of truth, hu- manity, and freedom, whether in bonds or exile; to multiply the number of their fol- lowers, that rising generations may call them blessed! — to overpower the delusive flame of infatuated superstition, by the predominant radiance of the sun of righteousness, the pure and undefiled religion of Jesus Christ ! — to consolidate all flesh with the cement of evan- gelical fraternity' and benevolence I to har- monize all hearts with the sympathetic in- fluences of ' unity, peace and concord •'"
1 Daniel iv. 32. ^ Psalm xc. J 5.
1 Mattb. xiii. 50. xxiii. 8.
■" " Examinat." &:c. pp. 70, 71, &c.
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We shall interrupt the order of Mr. Wake- field's publications for the sake of noticing his answer to the second part of " The Age of Reason," which appeared in the following year (179^5). Mr. Paine now exposed more glar- ingly than before the great deficiency of his information upon theological subjects, and his inclination to rude invectives, rather than to serious arguments.
In October of the same year, Mr. Wakefield published " A Reply to the second Part of the Age of Reason;" in which it cannot be denied that the severities of reproof M'ere dispensed with no sparing hand. This reply proposed some ingenious solutions of scriptural difficul- ties, and several criticisms on the phraseology of the Bible."
" In answer to Mr. Paine's objections to the Bible, drawn from the destruction of the Canaanites, among other observa- tions are the following :
" It has always been deemed by me (whether justly or not let the reader say) a reasonable postulatum, that some qualifica- tions and softenings in the case of many relations and occur- rences in the Bible history may be very properly applied, without any danger to the main fabric of revelation, upon the ground of exaggeration from national vanity, and the pride of individuals. Surely our adversaries, who are studious of re-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 2g
The severities to M'hich we allude were perhaps merited by this author for " the au-
presenting the Israelites as something less than men, will not deny them the concomitant failings of mortality. We may presumifi, therefore, upon some enlargement of the narrator in the splendor of their victories, and the number of the slain, and the extent of their desolations. The Jews were, as I have ob- served before, but a few degrees removed, in that age, from the manners of barbarians; and we find it a characteristic property of barbarism to delight in vi-ar, and blood, and battles. Besides, the Israelites, in consequence of the theocratical polity, under which we will suppose them to have lived, were accus- tomed in every instance, and on all occasions, to acknowledge the immediate agency of God; and esteemed themselves under the guidance of his arm through every circumstance of their lives. From this favourite apprehension, too generally ex- tended, and too partially indulged, it is the practice of their historians to speak of every transaction as prescribed by the express injunctions of Jehovah; when we are under no ne- cessity, I think, of supposing a specific and actual interference in the case; but may very rationally, and in conformity to the rules of accepted interpretation, have recourse, for a solu- tion, to that predominant and universal persuasion, from their infancy, of the peculiar superintendance of Jehovah, not only over the political welfare of their state, but the private con- cerns of individuals. It is likewise a point worthy of investi- gation, how far Joshua and his fellow- soldiers, in compliance with the ferocious character of the times, and the sanguinary propensities of military men, may actually have exceeded their commission, and indulged themselves in unauthorised acts of murder, rapine, and devastation. It is said indeed (Joshua xi. 11, 12,) that Joshua and his men * smote all the souls with the edge of the sword, utterly destroying them;, that there was,
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dacity of his assaults on those vcnera])le sys- tems, -which have constitutedj and still consti-
not any left to breathe; and he burned Hazor with fire. And all the cities of those kings, and all the kings of them did Joshua take, and smote them with the edge of the sword ; and he utterly destroyed them, as Moses the servant of the Lord commanded.' This command of Moses may be read in Deuteronomy xx. l6, 17; vii. l6\ But if we may be allowed that method of solving difficulties, that arises from seeming contradictions in our author; a method accepted in the case of other writers, as legitimate and unexceptionable ; we shall not be authorised, perhaps, to interpret the direction of Moses beyond a total expzdsion of the original inhabitants from the stations intended for the occupation of the Israelites; and a destruction as it were, of their residence among their con- querors. In behalf of this latitude of explanation, I ob- serve, that in Numbers xxxiii. 52 — 56, we find the command of Moses limited to these points only; the driving them from their habitations, and annihilating their temples, groves, and other appendages and implements of idolatrous devotion. The- capital object seems to have been a security from social inter- mixture with the idolatrous inhabitants of Canaan. This point was to be accomplished, it appears, at all events ; but, whether the barbarous extermination of men, women, and children, by the sword, be not imputable to the heated fury of the soldiers, and the sanguinary disposition of an uncivilized age, rather than to the spirit of the Jewish system, and the ferocious requisitions of their lawgiver, is a dilemma now sub- mitted to the disinterested decision of the reader."
" Reply," &c. p. 9, &c. On a passage in which Mr. Paine exposes the popular opi-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, 31
tute, the delight, the hope, and the consola- tion of multitudes much wiser and much better
nion, that the Snn and Moon literally stood still at the con:i- mand of Joshua, Mr. Wakefield has these observations:
" On the subject of this paragraph, it may recompence the time of the reader to be detained by a few remarks, that the course of my studies have enabled me to lay before hira, I believe no more than Thomas Paine believes, that the Sun and Moon, either in the apparent or philosophical acceptation of the phrase, actually stood still on this occasion, at the com- mand of Joshua : and I entertain this belief, not from the greater difficulty attendant on such a miracle, if required by a concurrence of important circumstances, than what accom- panies the consideration of the original formation of these glo- rious luminaries by the eternal architect, or a thousand other perpetual exhibitions of inconceivable omnipotence ; but be- cause there seems, to my apprehension at least, no sufficient reason for such supernatural appearance in this instance ; and because a rational explication appears practicable without so violent an hypothesis. It is an excellent rule of the poet, and well worthy of perpetual regard in all scriptural interpreta- tions, as well as ordinary criticism,
* Nee deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus Inciderit.'
Nor let a god appear,
Unless for business worthy of a God.
*' But let the passage itself be first displayed for our con- templation. * Then spoke Joshua to the Lord in the day when the Lord delivered up the Amorites before the children of Israel ; and he said in the sight of Israel, Sun ! stand thou
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than himself;"" yet we regret that they were resorted to in the present instance. The office
still upon Gibeon ; and thou, Moon ! in the valley of Ajalon.
* And the Sun stood still, and the Moon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies. Is it not written in the book of Jashir? So the Sun stood still in the midst of heaven, and hasted not to go down about a whole day.
' And there was no day like that before it or after it, that the Lord hearkened unto the voice of a man ; for the Lord fought for Israel.'
" Now this book of Jashir is again mentioned, 2 Samuel I. 18, and may probably have been a collection of poetic songs, in celebration of the extraordinary atchievements of thelsrael- itish armies. The words before us are of a poetical com- plexion in the original language, as those acquainted with the Hebrew will immediately acknowledge: and the detached manner, in which this passage is exhibited, neither interfering with the former nor subsequent parts of the surrounding nar- rative, gives great countenance to the supposition of its in- sertion in later times from the book of Jashir, to adorn this feat of heroism. On such an acceptation, therefore, this en- tire passage is nothing more than a sublime exaggeration of an enthusiastic poet indulging those fervors of rapturous in- vention conceded to his art; and the beauty, proprietv, and conformity of the imagery in this view is strikingly apparent, not only from the customary ascription of all events to the immediate operation of the deity, but from a similar effu- sion of uncommon magnificence in a Roman poet. Claudian> de tert. cons. Honor, verse 93.
* Te propter gelidis Aquilo de monte procellis Obruit adversas acies, revolutaque tela
• •' Reply," p. 2.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 33
of "castigation" was unworthy of our friend's talents, and detrimental to his purpose of
Vertit in auctores, et turbine repulit hastas. O! nimiCini dilecte Deoj cui fundit ab antris, iEolus armatas hiemes; cui militat aether, Et conjurati veniunt ad classica venti.*
* For thee the North from frozen mountains blows The whelming stores of winter on thy foesj In mid career the furious lance arrest. And whirl retorted on it's owner's breast. O ! lov'd by heaven ! for thee in icy showers The lord of winds his wrath tempestuous pours ; Fierce in thy cause, conspiring skies engage. And wait thy clarion to stream forth their rage.'
" If we suppose now, which is a very venial ^ostulatum, that the time of this battle coincided, or nearly so, with the summer solstice, we shall discover a very probable source of such an hyperbole to the poet's fancy; nay, this circumstance \vould be adopted with no hesitation, and without much ap- pearance of singularity even to modern readers, by a historian of those countries, as by no means incongruous to the fervid imaginations, and sublimer flights, of oriential genius and phraseology. This supposition is much assisted also by the words, And the sun hasted not to go down about a tvhole day, which represent that luminary lingering as it were through the longer period of a summer's diurnal revolution, to second the exertions and complete the victory of the pursuing armies of Jehovah. And certainly neither historians nor poets expect such swelling fancies to be cramped down and crippled by the literal restraints of vulgar application. When Homer in his Iliadj to aggrandise the exploits and prowess of his heroes, VOL. II, D
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persuading others. Sucli a contemptuous treatment, even of an unfair disputant, was
tells the reader by a particular address in the midst of action,
Ovts TtCiT rj£>.iov croov £^.^£vai, ovrs <TzXr^vy^v\
" They fought like fire conglob'd: nor badst thou deem'd The sun exempt from danger, nor the moon :
he did not expect us, we may be sure, to understand this sublime effusion in the rigour of verbal meaning. He was sufficiently aware, that no man in his senses could presume on this assertion on any real hazard to the security of these ethereal luminaries, from the vain turmoils of such reptiles on the earth.
" A fiction of a similar kind to that in Joshua occurs also in the Odyssey of the same poet ; which, as it serves to illus- trate the passage of scripture, shall gratify the reader in Pope's beautiful translation of it:
* The ravished queen with equal rapture glows. Clasps her loved lord, and to his bosom grows. Nor had they ended till the morning ray^ But Pallas backward held the rising day. The wheels of night retarding, to detain The gay Aurora in the wavy main,'
" As to the mention of the moon in the passage of Joshua, that is merely as a suitable appendage, and in a way suffi- ciently consonant and customary, to complete and dignify the imagery. Finally, if the reader will take the further trouble of consulting the annotations of Masius and Grotius in the
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 35
also too well calculated to depreciate in the public estimation that benevolence of charac- ter, by which Mr. Wakefield Avas so justly dis- tinguished.
Having thus freely expressed our opinion, we are bound to shew, from the following pas- sage in the preface to this pamphlet, the prin- ciples upon which he acted, the equitable dis- tinctions he was disposed to make, and how remote he was from the injustice practised by too many, of laying down a rule of conduct for others, and claiming exemption for them- selves.
'' No man will be insulted or despised by a writer of principle, tenderness, or modesty, for want of knowledge, when his situation or capacity may have debarred him from the ac- quisition of it: but if the ignorant will arro- gate to themselves all the privileges of learn- ing, they must expect an unceremonious free- dom of rebuke, and a sharp admonition of
Critici Sacri, on the passage, (by which it will appear, that the most learned and judicious interpreters, even of the Jews themselves, considered no miracle to be displayed on this oc- casion,) with a particular dissertation on this point, at once solid and ingenious, in the first volume of the Theological Repository, he will receive, I am persuaded, no inconsiderable portion of information and delight."
" Reply," &c. p. 27, &c. 2
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their duty. Where I prove erroneous in my censure; where I engage in questions without a conscientious respect for the pubhc and for myself, without preparation, Avithout talents, and without humility; I ardently Avish a re- storation to my duty and my senses by an un- relenting infliction of similar severity."
Notwithstanding the Avarmth of censure with Avhich Mr. Wakefield animadverted on these publications, he much regretted that a society, professedly Christian, should oppose them by the coarse and irrational, though, no doubt, conclusive arguments of pains and pe- nalties.
Our friend's opinion upon this most im- portant subject had been long before well-ex- pressed by Lardner, ('* the most candid of all advocates, and the most cautious of all en- quirers")'' Avho, among his other valuable Avrit- ings, defended the Miracles of the Gospel against the rude attacks and gross buffoonery of Woolston. Referring to the prosecution of that author, which churchmen of those days were too much disposed to excuse, *i if not to
• " Reply;- Pref. p. 7. p Paley, Evid. ii. gs.
^ See Letters between Dr.Waddington, bishop of Chiches- ter, and Dr. Lardner; Works, i. cxv.
QILBERT WAKEFIELD. 37
encourage, this excellent person, whose " ar- dour for truth, yet tenderness for error/" have been so justly admired, observes, that " a victory, secured by mere authority, is no less to be dreaded than a defeat,"* and that " a true Christian may suifer on account of his religion, but he can never make others suffer on account of theirs." '
In the same spirit, observes a late venerable author, " Let them therefore write, let them argue, and, Avlien arguments fail, even let them cavil, against religion, as much as they please : I should be heartily sorry that ever in this island, the asylum of liberty, where the spii'it of Christianity is better understood (however defective the inhabitants are in the observance of its precepts) than in any other part of the Christian world; I should, I say, be sorry, that in this island, so great a dis- service were done to religion, as to check it's adversaries, in any other way than by return- ing a candid answer to their objections. I must at the same time acknowledge that I am both ashamed and grieved, when I observe any
"■ RadclifFe's Elogium, Lardner's Works, i. cxiii.
* Lardner, xi. 6.
t Letter to Lord Barrington ; Lardner's Works, i. cxjur.
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friends of relioion betrav so great a diffidence in the goodness of their cause (for to this diffi- dence alone it can be imputed) as to show an inchnation for recurring to more forcible methods.""
Unhappily for the credit of Christianity, this " meekness of wisdom" is not the pos- session of all who call themselves by her name. The following circumstances occasioned the prosecution to "which we have alluded. Dr. Watson, bishop of Llandaff, published "The Apology for the Bible, in a Series of Letters addressed to Thomas Paine." This book be- came deservedly popular, and was soon largely circulated by being reprinted in an unexpen- sive form. A still further attention M^as thus excited to the '' Age of Reason." Of the in- creased demand for that work a bookseller, named Williams, took the advantage common to his trade, and published a cheap edition.
" The Society for promoting Christian Knowledge," composed entirely of members of the established Church, now resolved to subject this bookseller to a criminal process, and committed the conduct of their cause to the talents of Mr. Erskine. The ardour with which that gentleman exerted his abilities
" Campbell on Miracles, ed. 3rd. i. 301.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 39
upon this occasion" very naturally surprized and mortified those Mdio had fondly regarded him as much more than a mere advocate, in his various and noble defences of the freedom of the press.
As to the society in question, if wg consider the avowed principles, and political connexions of the leading members, can it be unfair to imagine that some resentment against the au- thor of the " Rights of Man," might perhaps insinuate itself into their zeal for " promoting Christian knowledge?" Nor possibly were they unwilling to lower in the opinion of his former associates the professional defender of that publication, and the more successful ad- vocate of Mr. Hardv, and the other defen- dants, in the State Trials of 1794.
With respect to the bishop of Llandaflf, it cannot be enough regretted that his acute and vigorous pen, so capable of directing the force of argument, should have been so officiously seconded, upon more than one occasion, by the power of the law. Yet from his entire silence respecting the prosecution of Williams, we are left to conjecture that Dr. Watson was not greatly offended, if he did not cheerfully
'^ See "N.A.Reg." v. IS. 11^1 (i02).
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accept this, surely needless, support of his ad- mired " Apology."
However that might be, ]\Ir. Wakefield ab- horred the principle of such a prosecution, and was disgusted by the conduct of all its promoters. In a letter on the subject, written before he could have any prospect of suffering for his own freedom of discussion, he has these remarks : — " That the jurisdiction of human ordinances extends not to opinion; that the prosecution and punishment of any individual on that ground is a violation of an universal rule, which admits no capricious and undefin- able exceptions in any case, without destroy- ing its efficacy in all, and transferring an un- alienable authority to a foreign judicature ; are, I think, axioms in political morality."
The celebrated barrister just mentioned, by connecting his name with such a prosecu- tion, was degraded from our friend's former high estimation of him, to a degree which might appear illiberal fully to express. For his frequent severe strictures on this gentle- man's conduct, we find the following apology among his papers :
" Some have objected to my free commu- nications relative to Mr. Erskine, as injuring what is called the cause, and furnishing mate-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 41
rials of triumph to the adversary in the expo- sure of so powerful an antagonist. But these sentiments savour of narrow considerations for a party, not of a general domineering devo- tion to truth and virtue, without any respect of personal distinction or political character. Uni cequus virtuti is the proper maxim to guide us on these occasions, and the only true me- thod of procuring to our conduct that general respectability which an uncorrupted impar- tiality, and a transcendent love of unadul- terated honour, are alone able to bestow."
But we shall not do all the justice in our power to Mr. Wakefield's views, of a subject on which his mind was so anxiously employed, if we omit to quote his arguments against a prosecution of this nature, as they are stated more at large in his " Letter to Sir John Scott, "^ which appeared under such circum- stances that it is most probably but little known. From the author's own copy of that pamphlet, in which he has made a \'q\v manu- script additions and corrections, we give the following extracts :
*' There never was, I verily believe, a more detestable publication, a more disgraceful com-
y Then Attorney General, now Lord Eldon, and Lord Higk Chancellor of England.
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pound of ignorance, arrogance, and effrontery, than Painfs Age of Reason; and I demon- strated my opinion of that performance by a reply to both parts, in a style and manner Avhich most people thought offensive and in- temperate, but which alone could convey, in commensurate expression, my genuine judg- ment of such a work. But I would not forcibly suppress this book; much less would I punish by fine or imprisonment, from any possible consideration, the publisher, or author of those pages.
'■'■ Prudential motives would prevent me: because such interdiction serves only to excite the restless cariosity of mankind ; and the restraints of law give fresh vigour to cir- culation.
" ]Motives o^ philosophy M'ould prevent me: because enquiry and discussion are provoked by free propagation of opinion; and sparks of truth, which would otherwise have been con- cealed for ever, are elicited by the collision of debate; to the unspeakable emolument and illumination of mankind, in the promotion of mutual forbearance and esteem, in the fur- therance of valuable knowledge, and in the consequent propagation of all happiness and virtue. Truth can never suffer from argu- ment and enquiry; but may be essentially
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 43
injured by the tyrannous interference of her pretended advocates. Impede her energies by the pains and penalties of law; and, like the Fame of Virgil, she will creep along the ground, diminutive in stature, and shrunk with apprehension : give free scope to all her ten- dencies, and she will soon collect her might, dilate herself to the fulness of her dimensions, and reach the stars.
* Parva metu primo ; mox sese attollit in auras, Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit.'*
" Motives o^ justice and impartiality would deter me. Why should I refuse another that privilege of thinking and writing, which I claim and exercise myself? Who set me as a judge of mind and intellect over another man, or another man over me? ' Quid est si non hcec contumelia est ? What sort of insolent usurpa- tion is this which we are exercising towards each other?
" Motives of humanity would deter me. I should think with horror on the punishment of any man for his belief; in which he has no discretionary power, but is necessarily swayed by the controlling despotism of arguments and reasons : and at what patent shop shall I pur-
^ ^n. IV. 176.
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chase a gag to silence him? Or what shall hinder him from forming the same unfavour- ahle judgment of my opinions, and pursuing in his turn the same measures of intimidation and coercion ^\ ith myself?
' Heu ! heu !
Quani teniere in nosmet legem sancimus iniquam.'
*' Thus the fair and goodly creation of the Almighty is to be converted into a howling Avilderness of savage beasts, alternately hunt- ing and worrying each other. How strange, how lamentable that we should suppose an in- terest, or experience a pleasure, in thus aggra- vating and accumulating the inevitable mise- ries of mortality ! What a most pernicious and preposterous medicine are state-physicians administering whilst they punish for opinion ! The patient dies; but his disorder is commu- nicated with growing malignity to thousands.
" Lastly, Motives of Religion would deter me from molesting any writer for the publication of his sentiments. No proposition in nature is more luminously depicted on the pages of the Gospel by the sun-beam of Reve- lation, than this before us. In one of those similitudes of inimitable beauty so common in these books, (similitudes, unrivalled in the repositories of human ingenuity and invention,)
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 45
when the servants of the householder came to inform their master, that tares were sprung up among the wheat, and enquired whether they should go and pluck them up, he replied in these memorable words; words of intelligible purport and indisputable application: Nay; lest, while ye gather up the tares, yz root up
ALSO THE WHEAT WITH THEM LeT BOTH
GROW TOGETHER UNTIL THE HARVEST: and
in the time of harvest, I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them ; but gather the wheat into my barn;"' a passage demonstra- tive of a most sublime intellect and un- paralleled philanthropy."
'* These are a summary of my reasons for a liberty of the press perfectly unrestrained, on all possible topics of investigation and debate. Through the benign influence of this liberty, and a vigorous cultivation of our intellect under a political system, at once generous, humane, and energetic, philosophy in all her branches would expand with genial fertility, taste and learning v/ould thrive with full luxuriance, rea- son would reign triumphant, and revelation would speedily wave the cross on her victorious banners through the extremities of the globe.
a Matt. xiii. 24—31.
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A cubic inch of air can dilate itself through the prodigious sphere of Saturn's orbit. Man would approximate by illimitable advances to that perfection which the gospel exhorts him to attain. 'The kingdoms of the world would become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ.' Pains and penalties, imprisonments and murders, the diabolical implements of cor- rupt unregenerated men ! would be superseded by gentleness and philanthropy, persuasion, mutual forbearance, universal love. Tyranny, with all her lictors, a foul and sanguinary train! would be confounded and consumed bv the brightness of the divine presence, and their memorial blotted out for ever. ' From the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, incense would be offered to the name of Jesus, and a pure offering.'
'Phosphore! redde diem! Quid gaudia nostra moraris? Caesare venture, Phosphore! redde diem.''
In such animated strains did our friend ad- dress himself, to ears, alas ! *' deaf to the voice of the charmer" — thus " rapt into future times"" — was he willing, in the contemplation of felicity, to be enjoyed by those whom he
^ Letter to Sir John Scott, with MSS, additions, &c.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 47
could never know, to forget the afflictions which his enemies were now preparing for him- self and his beloved family.
To return to the order of Mr. Wakefield's publications. In the summer of ^79'i'i while passing a few days in the country, he wrote " Remarks on the General Orders of the Duke of York to his Army."
About this time the National Convention of France, at the instance of Barrere, and under the influence of Robespierre, had made a decree, (which, however, appears never to have been obeyed),^ " that their soldiers should give no quarters to the British or Hanoverian troops."
This sanguinary measure they pretended to justify by imputing to Mr. Pitt's administration a design, in connexion with some persons in Paris, to assassinate the more zealous members of the National Convention.'' Such a chars:e, however the violent language sometimes adopted by that administration, might render it plau-
*^ " The sanguinary proposal of Barrere was never, as far as we have been able to inform ourselves, complied with in a single instance: on the contrary, on many occasions, the French officers and soldiers behaved with singular humanity and liberality to their British opponents."
*' N. An. Reg." for 1794. xv, 36S.
^ Ibid.
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sible, was never substantiated by any satisfac- tory proof. It must therefore be justly classed among those calumnies which are so often cir- culated by hostile o-overnments.
The publication of this decree of the Con- vention was immediately followed by the " Ge- neral Orders," which Mr. Wakefield examined in a few pages of Remarks.
This pamphlet, which was soon out of print, appears to have been a hasty production, exe- cuted while the author's mind was strongly im- pressed with an idea by no means peculiar to himself, that '' a speculative condemnation of cruelties is but an equivocal evidence of a dis- position truly compassionate and humane."" In very strong terms ^ he expresses his horror at the sanguinary scenes that were then too often exhibited in France. In language scarcely less forciblcjhe attributes to the unhappy interference of this country, the extent and aggravation of those disorders.
, The same imcourtly opinion has been not unfrequently avowed by many other great
« "Remarks," &c. p. II.
•^ " I should abhor myself as a character completely bru- talised, if I did not contemplate with feelings undefinable by language, those executions, and particularly of the females, which have stained the scaffolds of France."
" Remarks," p. 11.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 49
and good men. Whether their judgment be accurate or erroneous we will not venture to discuss. We rather turn from scenes of guilt and misery, which the humane of every party must deplore, to those delightful walks of taste and fancy which our friend so often trod with willing feet.
VOL. II. E
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CHAP. III.
Editions of Horace — Firgil — Greek Tragedies — Projected Edition of Pope's Works— Olservations on Pope — Poetical Translations — Bion and Mosckus— Hackney Club.
1794, 1795.
To publish editions of the principal authors of antiquity, had always been a favourite pro- ject with Mr. Wakefield. The little encourage- ment which works of this nature generally receive, and the great expence with which they are inevitably attended, deterred him, on many occasions, from indulging his inclination. Yet few scholars have ever formed a more ex- tensive and valuable collection of materials for the execution of an office, not less arduous than important.
Early in 179^ he Avas engaged to superin- tend an edition of Horace, in two volumes 12mo. which the publisher was anxious to have distinguished not less by its correctness, than its beauty. The design of such an edition was incompatible with the introduction of any con-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 4i
siderable number of critical or illustrative re- marks. Upon condition, however, of being allowed to introduce some few variations from the common reading of the text, in passages generally admitted to be depraved, Mr. Wake- field readily acceded to this proposal.*
Towards the close of the following year, he fulfilled the promise which he had given in the preface to his Horace, and accordingly published an edition of all Virgil's works, in two volumes ISmo. undertaken upon similar conditions, and executed on a similar plan, excepting where the very incorrect state of the text, in many of the smaller poems, seemed
g *' Cum bibliopola noster, studio laudabili impulsus, edi- tionem Horatii nitidissimam, formae minoris, emittere cogi* taret, ad exemplar Gesneri Baxterianum impressam, a me per amicum impetrare volebat operarum inspiciendarum curamj ut chartae in raanus hominum qu^m emendatisslme venirent. Ad hoc rauneris qualecunque respondi me non invite acces.r surum, sipoetae, quod aiunt, textumin quibusdam saltern locis manifeste depravatis, ad meum quodammodo gustum atque arbitrium constituere liceret ■, quum k me nullo mode possem impetrare corruptelas indubitatas meis auspiciis recusas iri: et propositum non displicuit. Caeterum bibliopolae rationes in hoc opere edendo brevitatem postulabant : unde paucis tan- tummodo erroribus adhibita est curatioj et nullae nisi verisi- millimse, vcl aliorum vel ipsius emendationes hCic sunt tra- latse." Praefat.
2
52 LIFE OF
to allow a more unreserved indulgence in con- jectural emendation.*"
Besides numerous improvements in the punctuation, to which he paid great attention, many corrections and illustrations will be found in the notes subjoined to each volume.' It is evident, however, from the preface, that this edition of the MantuaU bard, with all its merit, is far inferior to what Mr. Wakeiield would have rendered it, had he not been re- strained by the conditions of the bookseller.''
In truth these smaller editions convey but a faint idea of that extensive plan which his active mind had formed towards a complete edition of many of the most celebrated Avorks of antiquity. The materials which he had collected with that view, through a long period
*• Prsefat.
i " Quid ultra variaverim, praeter diligentiorem interpunc- tionem, notulse saepius declarabunt ; in quibus, citra violatse veritatis crimen, possem affirmare, et ad doctorum sententias provocare, plura esse rectiils constituta, etiam post tot erudi- torum hominum lucubrationes, qu^m in quibusdam editioni- bus magno molimine vulgatis; nisi lectoris integrum j-udicium subircj et facere bona, quam promittere, maluerira."
Praefat.
^ " Hactentis autem severioribus bibliopolse legibus, notas mihi quiim brevissimas imponentis, obsecutus sum: deinceps meo jure rem administiaturus." Praef.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 53.
of laborious study, were principally derived from a careful collation of ancient manuscripts, and a comparison of early editions, at Cam- bridge, in the British Museum, and the reposi- tories of private individuals. That the fruits of so much labour and deep research should be lost to the literary world is, surely, no com- mon subject of regret.
In the same year he published a selection of the Greek tragedies,' in two volumes, octavo. The motives which determined his choice of these dram.as were, their intrinsic merit, and the connection of those comprised in the first volume. He also proposed the introduction of some novelty into the course of initiatory reading ; few of the pieces contained in these volumes having been hitherto adopted into the use of schools.'"
As the design of this edition was not pro- fessedly, and purely critical, no manuscripts were consulted, nor were the earlier editions completely collated. An object, however, of equal importance, in a book of elementary in-
' Consisting of the Hercules Furens, Alcestis and Ion of Euripides, The Trachinia and Philoctetes of Sophocles, and The Euraenides of jEschylus.
m See the Preface to this work .
54 LIFE OF
struction, the formation of taste by the illus- tration of poetical beauties, was carefully kept in view. The Commentary, like the other classical publications of this editor, contains an ample selection of passages, from the best authors, displaying similar elegancies, and es- sentially contributing to the elucidation of the text.
While Mr. Wakefield was employed in these classical researches, and in preparing his ela- borate and splendid publication of Lucretius, he also projected an edition of the works of Pope, '' with remarks, and illustrations."
The happy couplets of this author he was frequently accustomed to quote, and he has described him as " a poet, for delicacy of feel- ing, for accuracy of judgment, poignancy of wit, urbanity of humour, vivacity of fancy, discernment of human character, solemnity of pathos, pregnancy of sentiment, rectitude of taste, comprehensive diction, melodious num- bers, and dignified morality, without a rival in ancient or modern times,""
" Obs. on Pope, Pref, v.
Mr. Wakefield had an opportunity of gratifying his attach- ment to the memory of this poet in the summer of J "jgT . He Was then on a visits accompanied by one of the present writers,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 55
Johnson, in his Life of Pope, conjectured '^ that he gleaned from authors, obscure as
to a friend with whom he had been at the university, and who resided on the borders of Windsor Forest, near Easthamstead Park, formerly the seat of Sir W. Trumbull, and at a short distance from Binfield, where Pope passed so many of his early years, and wrote some of his most admired productions. He was particularly attracted to a spot said to have been the fa- vourite resort of the poet, on which are several trees with the words " Here Pope sang, " almost obliterated by time. The sentence has been cut afresh by direction of a lady in the neighbourhood.
Rambling among these " consecrated walks," the feelings which Mr. Wakefield frequently expressed would naturall)'' remind his companions of his reflections on bidding adieu to Cambridge (Mem. i. 145). Such feelings on a similar visit are most agreeably described by Melmoth. Fitzosborne, letter liii.
Since the above was written, we have received from a gen- tleman, long resident in the town of Oakingham, a few anec- dotes of Pope, which will probably have some interest with the admirers of the poet,
" During Mr, Pope's residence at Binfield, he frequently came to Oakingham, about two miles distance, and passed many hours in a back parlour, at the Rose Inn, called the Mitre. In the wall of this room is a small recess, called Pope's Repository, in which he committed to paper many of those ideas that occasionally occurred in the formation of hi» poems. In this room was written the famous song called Molly Mogg, published in Gay's poems, being the joint pro- duction of Pope, Gay, and Swift, in their moments of hilarity. The Rose Inn was kept by two sisters, the youngest was by
vr«t ,^
^ 4U ^
r •'
WW
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i
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56
LIFE OF
well as eminent, what he thought brilliant or useful, and preserved it all in a regular col- lection."" Mr. Wakefield's design was " to illustrate Pope, as an elegant English classic,
far the finest woman, and to celebrate her beauty the above song was composed.
" The late Mrs. Chaplin, mistress of the Rose Inn, com- missioned me to write on the door of the above recess, the undermentioned lines. I confess I neglected doing it, till ill- ness came on her, which wholly set aside the execution.
* Let no rude touch presume to injure this Repositorys which formerly contained the dulcet notes of Alexander Pope, Esq, May it ever be preserved inviolate to the latest posterity, in respectful remembrance of his sublime genius.*
" Near the habitation of Mr. Pope is a small wood, where he often retired, and on a favourite spot at the foot of a beech tree, composed many of his excellent performances. Wind- sor Forest, it is supposed, was principally written there. The late Countess Dowager Gower caused to be affixed on a con- spicuous part of the tree, out of the reach of rude hands, a fair tablet, with these words. Here Pope sang, aqd kept it in constant preservation during her life. I believe the tablet is still remaining.
" Mr. B , g respectable barber at Oakingham, whom
I knew very well, frequently declared, that he dreaded going to Mr. Pope's house to shave him, as he scarcely ever could perform it under an hour, and very often it would take him an hottrand a half, and sometimes two hours, as during the opera- tion he was continually ordered to stop, while Mr. Pope penned down his occasional thoughts."
° Johnson's "Works, xi. igs.
ih' ^ • - (ion. i^ '' both."" tiondi ■ poems, lix coBJet' rob !. adjusic
k.
-iif.'
Woib,.. lie apjon »
^
><^ COO- 'S tlie ■HI
Jk icoa-
■?t it in .blttii
GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
57
by opening the sources of his imitation, by noticing his beauties of sentiment and expres- sion, and occasionally his improprieties in both,"'' without entering upon the considera- tion of " the general plan and conduct of his poems, where so much is left for the sportive conjectures of imagination, and where the rules themselves, by Avhich such criticisms are adjusted, are often the mere whimsical posi- tion of arbitrary critics, "^ without any founda tion in truth and nature." ^
In pursuance of this design, in 1794 he published, in 8vo. the first volume ' of the Works of Pope. All the notes of his author Jie appears to have preserved, with an occa-
P Obs. Pref. xvi.
•J *' If the predominant effect of a poem, without gross in- congruities and palpable want of artifice in its construction, be impressive, and enchain the soul with a continuity of strength and elegance, all enquiry into the particular adjustment of the parts, and its general constitution, may seem but a vision- ary and preposterous operation. Had Homer made a very dif- ferent distribution of events in his poems, the complaisant dexterity of criticism would soon have proved it the very best that human, ingenuity could devise." Obs. Pref. xvii.
' Ibid.
* Containing the Pastorals, Windsor Forest, Essay on Cri- ticism, Rape of the Lock, Eloisa to Abelard, &c.
F "
,■
56 LIFE OF
well as eminent, what he thought brilliant or useful, and preserved it all in a regular col- lection."" Mr. Wakefield's design was " to illustrate Pope, as an elegant English classic,
far the finest woman, and to celebrate her beauty the above song was composed.
" The late Mrs. Chaplin, mistress of the Rose Inn, com- missioned me to write on the door of the above recess, the undermentioned Hues. I confess I neglected doing it, till ill- ness came on her, which wholly set aside the execution.
* Let no rude touch presume to injure this Repositoryj which formerly contained the dulcet notes of Ai-exander Pope, Esq. May it ever be preserved inviolate to the latest posterity, in respectful remembrance of his sublime genius.'
" Near the habitation of Mr. Pope is a small wood, where he often retired, and on a favourite spot at the foot of a beech tree, composed many of his excellent performances. Wind- sor Forest, it is supposed, was principally written there. The late Countess Dowager Gower caused to be affixed on a con- spicuous part of the tree, out of the reach of rude hands, a fair tablet, with these words. Here Pope satig, and kept it in constant preservation during her life. I believe the tablet is still remaining.
" Mr. B , a respectable barber at Oakingham, whom
I knew very well, frequently declared, that he dreaded going to Mr. Pope's house to shave him, as he scarcely ever could perform it under an hour, and very often it would take him an h©ar-and a half, and sometimes two hours, as during the opera- tion he was continually ordered to stop, while Mr. Pope penned down his occasional thoughts,"
° Johnson's Works, xi. IQ5.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 5?
by openin.o' the sources of his imitation, by noticing his beauties of sentiment and expres- sion, and occasionally his improprieties in both,"'' without entering upon the considera- tion of " the general plan and conduct of his poems, where so much is left for the sportive conjectures of imagination, and where the rules themselves, by Avhich such criticisms are adjusted, are often the mere whimsical posi- tion of arbitrary critics,** without any founda tion in truth and nature."^
In pursuance of this design, in 1794 he published, in 8vo. the first volume' of the Works of Pope. All the notes of his author Jie appears to have preserved, with an occa-
P Obs. Pref. xvi.
1 " If the predominant effect of a poem, without gross in- congruities and palpable want of artifice in its construction, be impressive, and enchain the soul with a continuity of strength and elegance, all enquiry into the particular adjustment of the parts, and its general constitution, may seem but a vision- ary and preposterous operation. Had Homer made a very dif- ferent distribution of events in his poems, the complaisant dexterity of criticism would soon have proved it the very best that human ingenuity could devise." Obs. Pref. xvii.
' Ibid.
* Containing the Pastorals, Windsor Forest, Essay on Cri- ticism, Rape of the Lock, Eloisa to Abelard, &c.
58 LIFE OB'
slonal reference to the remarks of Warburton, adding a variety of his own observations.
In an advertisement prefixed, he proposed to proceed expeditiously in his design, should he not be deterred bv "Dr. Warton's inten- tion of executing the same work, of which he was unapprised before the completion of this volume and the printing of the greater part." To that gentleman, who in 1797 published an edition of the Works of Pope, he, with great liberality, concedes " a superior knowledge of English literature, more experience, more lei- sure, and more accidental advantages of every kind, which *' rendered him a formidable com- petitor in this province."*
However, Mr. Wakefield still indulged the expectation of completing his original plan; yet at length finding no sufficient encourage- ment to proceed with his intended publication of the entire /Forks of his author, he deter- mined," at the end of the following year, to
» Works ofl'ope^ vol. i. Advertisement, p. 2.
" " For some time past I had cherished an agreeable ex- pectation, that the remainder of Pope's works would be con- signed to my care, alter the new edition of his Homer, with continued notes on both Iliad and Odyssey, should be de- livered to the public through my hands. But in consequence of a previews agreement unknown to me, privately contracted
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. Sp
bring together in another octavo volume the further collections he had made, in the order of those works, and under the title of " Oh- servations on Pope."
In the preface to that volume, he gives the following account of the rules by which he had been o-uided in the conduct of this under- taking.
" Those imitations, M'hich others had be- fore discovered, I have not been forward to repeat, from a disinclination to an unreason- able extension of the work : what may have been incidentally repeated, I have not appro- priated with intentional usurpation. Even in those instances where the symptoms of imita- tion are dubious, or improbable, to contem- plate the efforts of genius on the same senti- ment, is of itself a most pleasing occupation to a reader of sensibility." "
by Mr. Cadell with Dr.Warton, and the rapidity of the Doe- tor in a preoccupation of the press, this office has devolved upon him. That my rambles, however, in this province, thus intercepted, might not perish to myself, I have collected, but with studied brevity, my miscellaneous remarks into this work now presented to the reader; where what occur to the extent of my former volume, are merely supplemental to it, that no person might have occasion to complain, nor myself unreason- ably suffer by a solitary and unsupported work."
Obs. Pref. v. & vi. " Ibid, p. vii.
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He next considers '* the unlimited and in- calculable obligations of modern wit to the genius of Greece and Rome ; and the incon- ceivable benefit of ancient learning, to those who wish to appreciate, by a true estimate, the accomplishments of succeeding writers, and to acquire a pure relish even for the beau- ties of English poetry."^
" That satiety, of which some complain in the poetry of Pope," his editor attributes " in part" to " his consummate propriety of ex- pression, his suavity of numbers, and that in- culpable perfection which pervades the whole body of his compositions," happily remarking that " it was neither the flatness nor poverty of the archangel's conversation, but his energy of conception and his charming voice, that wearied our first parent, and oppressed his sense,
. ' strained to the height
In that celestial colloquy sublime." ^
He then proceeds to establish the claims of Pope to the character " of a true poet, in con- tradistinction to the simple versifier," accord- ing to " the criterion of the most elegant
y Obs. Pref. ^ Par. Lost. — Obs. on Pope, Pref. viii.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 6l
critic of antiquity,"* and concludes with an acknowledgment of communications received from several literary friends.''
It was a frequent practice with Mr. Wake- field, more particularly during his residence in Nottingham and its neighbourhood, to amuse himself, in his solitary walks, with translating into English verse some of the odes of Horace, and favourite passages from other classic authors. In 1795, he published, in 8vo. a small selection of these, including the v/hole of the tenth satire of Jicoenal.
In an advertisement prefixed to this little volume, he expresses his hope that " the speci- mens here diffidently offered to the public will be found tolerably faithful to their models."' He also states, that " his late occupation in the revisal of Popes Homer, has led him to a more particular observation of the imperfec- tion of rhyme even in our correctest poets;" and he thinks himself justified in asserting, with confidence, that the translations which he here presents to the public, will be found unexceptionably correct in this particular.
» Hon Sat. i. 4. 39.— Obs. Pref. ix. '' Ibid. xvii. xviiu
62 LIFE OF
The next object whicJi engaged his atten- tion, M^as the publication of an elegant editibn of Bion and IMoschus, in one small volume-. The notes, as usual, abound vith happy and beautiful illustrations from all the stores of ancient literature. The preface, which is elo- quent and interesting, freely expresses the political views and feelings of its author. These were but ill-calculated to form an introduction of general recommendation to the public, es- pecially at such a season of party-animosity. Yet the sincerity and disinterestedness of Mr. Wakefield upon this occasion might have ren~ dered his motives respectable, even with those who were most averse to his opinions.
It is well known to the friends of Mr. Wakefield that his love of societv was ex- ceeded only by his attachment to classical and theological pursuits. With little inclination to public amusements,' and an utter disrelish
' Among Mr. Wakefield's papers is the following memo- randum, which justifits our assertion, and at the same time expresses an opinion j)robably almost singular :
" Once in my life I went to Drury-lane Theatre, and there heard iVlrs. biddons in Isabella. Her action, &c. per- fect: but is it sacrilege to say, that she performed the part with a whining monotony, which my lasle, be it good or bad, could not have endured with patience Tn a second hearing ?'
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 63
of mere conviviality, it was to conversation among a few select associates that be resorted as the favourite relaxation from his severest studies. In the former volume'' he has de- scribed the satisfaction with which be indulged this taste at Cambridg-e and afterwards at Warrington,
In 1794 he had the principal part in the formation of a club at Hackney, composed of several inhabitants of that village, who were accustomed to meet at each other's houses one evening in a week. We are persuaded, from our own experience, that the surviving mem- bers of this society recollect those meetings as sources of interesting information and rational amusement; nor will there be wanting a few '' kindred spirits " to look upon this page with some of the regretful feelings with which it has been written.
No question was ever previously offered for discussion, nor any of those forms admit- ted which fail to repress the vanity of the su- perficial, yet are too often calculated to im- pose silence even upon pei'sons of superior talents. Subjects the most important were in- troduced in the natural course of an unre-
ft
■« pp. J 32 & 229.
64 LIFE OF
served conversation, in which Mr. Wakefield was accustomed to display a variety of know- ledge and an easy address, very remote from the narrow-mindedness and formality of the mere scholar.
Some mention of this society could not properly be omitted in the life of a person to whom it principally owed its origin, and who always regarded it as one of the most agreeable circumstances of his residence at Hackney. That one formed to supply as well as to par- take "the feast of reason and the flow of soul" should attach to him those with whom he con- versed, might well be expected. But as his latter years were exposed to trials of no ordi- nary kind, so these attachments appeared to rise far above the common influence of civility and oood neiohbourhood.
No powerful statesman was ever more so- licitously courted by needy expectants, than Mr. Wakefield was sought after by his associ- ates, during a year of anxiety and suspense, though bound to him by no ties of relation- ship, and incapable of receiving from him any Arorldly advantages. They attended him to his trial, and shared " his prison-hours,*' while he was suffered to remain witliin the reach of their personal regards. During his confine- ment the meetings of the club were discon-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 65
tinued, though members of it remained, ca- pable of giving an interest to any society. But they sympathised with their suffering as- sociate, and waited, alas ! how vainly ! for that period when his rigorous punishment should be terminated, and he should return,
" To chide his anxious friends' officious fears. And promise to their joys his elder years."
VOL. IT.
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CHAP. iV.
Active Liberality of Mr. Wakefield — " Reply to the Letter of Edmund Burke, Esq., to a nolle Lord."
In Mr. Wakefield's defence upon his trial, he thus describes the privacy of his own life: " I am not now, nor ever was, a member of any one political society : no frequenter of public meetings, no speaker at public dinners; nor ever attended a lecture or debate on po- litical subjects in a single instance, on any occa- sion whatever, in all my life: not that I pre- sume to censure or disapprove these practices in others, but because of their absolute incon- sistency with my regular, studious, sober, pa- cific, and domesticated modes of living. I have never written a single political article in any review, magazine, or other periodical publication of any name, character, or de- scription."^
Yet so far from censuring thsoe who sought
^ " Defence," p. 54.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 67
to improve the condition of their countrymen, by exertions little suited to his own taste and occupations, he highly respected them, and felt a lively interest in the sufferings which too many of them endured under the late rigor- ous administration.
It is well remembered that during Mr. Pitt's "reign of terror," in 1794, the judicature of Scotland exiled, among the most abandoned of mankind, men of education, and, several of them, of distinguished talents, " the height of whose oifending " appears to have been little more than a pursuit, perhaps too eager, of the same objects to Avhich that minister af- fected to attach himself in his road to popu- larity and power. The opposite rewards of Mr. Pitt, and those who professed to follow up his early principles, are not unaptly expressed by Mr. Wakefield:
*• Ah ! how unlike reformers! is your fate :
This to New-Holland, to th' Exchequer that!"*"
and upon all occasions he scrupled not to con- demn those sentences as cruel and unjust. His high opinion of one of the victims to mi-
^ Juv. Imit.
" Committunt eadem diverse crimina fate; lUe crucem sceleris pretium tulit, hie diadema."
QS LIFE OF
nisterial vengeance on that occasion, he has recorded hi a learned work, upon the mention of a criticism on a passage in the New Testa- ment, by the Rev. T. F. Palmer,^ a gentleman of great literary accomplishments, Mhich he had devoted to a disinterested examination of the Christian scriptures. He likewise exerted himself in promoting the subscription set on foot at the close of the State Trials in 1794, to defray the heavy law expences incurred by Mr. Hardy and his fellow-prisoners, though otherwise wholly unconnected with any of the parties. Nor could it be an attempt deserving censure to lighten the pecuniary burdens of those who had hazarded their lives in disprov- ing the accusations of enemies powerful by the influence of office, and rich in the posses- sion of the national purse.
And here it may not be improper to notice Mr. Wakefield's interference respecting some severities exercised in the memorable prison of Cold Bath Fields ; severities which a jury have since officially presented, and as to which
g " Silv, Crit." Par. v. 45. We understand with much concern that this gentleman, on his return to Europe, after encountering almost incredible hardships, died at the island of Guam, one of the Ladrones, June 2, 1801. For a very interesting account of Mr. Palmer see Month. Mag. Feb. 1804. Vol. xvii. 83—85.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 69
a man must have a marvellous faith in the in- terested assertion of a jailor, should he still venture to doubt their existence.
From his letters now before us, written in July and August 1797, it appears that he exerted himself though without success, in various applications, to procure for two book- sellers, who were confined for having sold cer- tain political pamphlets, " some mitigation of their treatment, which with respect to their communication with their family and friends," he describes as " rigorous beyond any thing ever known toM^ards any criminal in this country;" and after a personal examination of the facts, he says, of the prisoners there con- fined, " none of them, without bribing the keepers, have the privilege of seeing their nearest relatives, except at an awful distance, and through iron gates."*' He was too soon
•> In his " Letter to Sir John Scott," he thus describes the condition of these persons, when he visited them in the Bride- well in Cold Bath Fields, " excluded from father and mother, brother and sister, wife and child, relative and friend, except by a remote view and restrained converse, of which I have partaken, through iron grates, with ruffians by your side, scowling ferocity and menace. This is a literal unexagger- ated fact, on which I stake my character, for honour and vera- city with the public. After an ocular evidence of this treat- ment, and other efforts for redress, I wrote to , a
dignified clergyman in the church, and chief director of thisi
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Still better acquainted with the government of a prison, when it may be truly said that he suf- fered nearly as much from reflexions on the misery around him, as from the grievous pri- vations to which he Avas himself subjected.
Mr. Wakefield's next publication was called forth on the followinq; occasion:
In the beginning of 1796 appeared " A Letter from the Right Honourable Edmund Burke to a Noble Lord, on the Attack made on him and his Pension in the House of Lords by the Duke of Bedford and the Earl of Lauder- dale."
Among other answers Mr. Wakefield ^vrote " A Reply to the Letter of Edmund Burke, Esq. to a Noble Lord." The first edition was sent to the press in a few hours after that pamphlet came to his hands.
As he had long chosen the studies con- nected with classic and scriptural criticism to be the leading occupations of his life, when he was occasionally drawn from such employments by what he esteemed an impulse of duty, his impatience to resume them would not allow him
prison} concluding that a scholar and a Christian might be induced to commiserate the condition of these booksellers. But in vain." « Letter, &c." p. 31,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. ;i
to dwell long upon these lighter lahours. In his " Defence" he represents them as " the casual production of an hour, unwillingly stolen from more agreeahle occupations." And they are well known by his friends to have engao-ed those few intervals of leisure which most students would have required for mere amusement.
This reply to Mr. Burke's letter, Avhicli came to a third edition, he undertook with a sincere admiration of the talents of that ex- traordinary man ; talents which few, by their own studies and accomplishments, could be better prepared justly to appreciate. His for- mer works he describes as " illuminated with all the splendour of philosophic truth, with all the enchanting extravagances of the brightest fancy, with the spangles of me- taphor, the corruscations of wit, and the blaze of eloquence;" and characterizes their author as " well-versed in the writings of the great luminaries of antiquity ; comparable, as a man of exuberant imagination and splendid elo- quence, to the noblest of them all;" notwith- standing " many unchastised improprieties of grammar and construction, and frequent am- biguity, the result perhaps of haste and negU-
o-ence."
7a LIFE OF
Speaking of one part of this letter, he says, that " to his vigour of conception, his com- prehension and vivacity of thought, his ener- gies of phrase, his accumulations of original and striking imagery, it is difficult for conjec- ture to fix a limit: but his acrimony, his phren- zies, his absurdities, his misrepresentations, and his inconsistencies have also certainly no bounds." In another part he attributes to him " such melting strains of pathetic elo- quence as might disarm even Malice and An- tipathy themselves of a wish to censure. By me at least," he adds, " the sacred sorrows of true genius, and the disconsolate lamentations of an afflicted father, shall be regarded, not with respect only, but with reverence. I have no wish but to counteract the pernicious ten- dency of political absurdities, to chastise the enormities of gigantic vice; and hope with a warmth of sincerity not exceeded by his dearest friends, that this sun of glory, through a gradual and mild decline, may finally set in peace."
With these views of the accomplished ta- lents of his author, he very naturally looked back with acute feelings of regret to that pe- riod of Mr. Burke's life when the "thunder of his oratory was launched" against " the abet-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 'JZ
tors of American subjugation," an oratory fraught with '' those axioms of constitutional hberty and political justice, breathing bene- volence to mankind, and raising the philan- thropy of their author to the sublime level of his intellect."
After preliminary observations of this kind, he proceeds " to the pamphlet itself;" where quoting the author's insinuation against " the zealots of the new sect in philosophy and poli- tics,'" who are afterwards described as " far removed from any knowledge that makes men estimable or useful,'"'' he remarks, that '' these zealots, to define them in the most malignant latitude of acceptation, are those who build on the natural equality of the human race, and the unassailable principles of universal justice, the claim of every citizen in a community to an enjoyment of privilege and protection, and the reasonable comforts of so- ciety, in proportion to his diligence, his ser- vices, and worth," asking Mr. Burke as " a scholar,' in what celebrated author of Greece
' Burke's Works, 8vo, vii, 3/3. v Ibid. vii. 422.
' Mr. Wakefield expresses the most lively regret that, with respect to " youths of family and fortune, who have re- ceived their education in our public schools and universities j the pure stream of sober political equality, imbibed at these
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or Rome, whether poet, philosopher, or his- torian, we do not find such principles of uni- versal liberty, amidst an acrimonious abhor- rence of servility and usurpation, incul- cated with enthusiastic ardour and sedulous anxiety."
The right of the French to ''repel by force the invaders of their territory," he next as- serts, in answer to the accusation, that '' they unplumb the dead for bullets to assassinate the hving.""' He afterwards maintains the possi- bility of a " temperate reform of corruptions, which the most unblushing retainers of a court could not but acknowledge" to exist," without
sacred fountains, passes through their bosoms, as tlie fabulous river through the ocean j neither intermingling its current, nor imparting in the transit the slightest flavour of its qualities.
Sic tibi, cum fluctus subter labere Sicanos Doris amara suam non intermisceatundam."
"Reply," p. 12,
" Burke's Works, 8vo. vii. 376.
" In one of his miscellaneous papers, Mr. Wakefield has these remarks:—" Ministers are very candid in their de- clared approbation of parliamentary enquiries, reformation of abuses, Habeas Corpus Acts, Bills of Rights, See. but when investigations are proposed, and rectifications voted, some ex- ception is uniformly stated. These things are good at alt times, hut never in season. Their perversity reminds me of
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. <J5
risking " the excesses subsequent on the revo- lution in France;" describing the progress and termination of that event in a passage, the following close of which, it is now to be feared, discovers the rapture of a bard rather than the prophet's inspiration.
" I see that vast formidable empire de- scending, like the Nile, from the mountains of Ethiopia, circling with its liquid arms the gay fabrics and the spacious deserts of monarchy, aristocracy, and ecclesiastical usurpation : I see that deluge of mighty M^aters gradually subside into their wonted channel : I see them flow with a majestic tranquillity to the ocean, and all the traces of their former ravages ob- literated by one extensive and expanding para- dise of verdure, fertility, and beauty."
On the subject of Mr. Burke's pension Mr. Wakefield gives him ample credit for his " political exertions in the service of his coun-
a Moderator in the Astronomical Schools at Cambridge, very ill qualified for his office, who was incapable of settling the debate between a resolute opponent and his respondent^ and to pacify the former was accustomed to terminate the contro- versy by a look of complacency on the opponent and this con- ciliatory decision: Domine opponens ! hoc fortasse rerum esse ' possit in quibusdam casibus, sed non in hoc casa. Probo aliter.
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try," as an oeconomical reformer ; and very reasonably concludes that " if any men had come forward to the parliament and the pub- lic, in a tone frank and manly, and explicit :" calling upon them " to recompense the merits of so great a man, and to provide for the re- pose of his declining years, in a public remu- neration, sanctioned by the suftrage of his country, all parties and descriptions would have joined in their applause of a measure, appor- tioned with discretion, not less honourable to the donors, than the subject of it: nor would the duke of Bedford and the earl of Lauder- dale have been among the last with their expressions of assent and contributions of esteem.""
Such Mere Mr. Wakefield's views of this pamphlet; of whose author he observes, in one of his miscellaneous papers, that " A mode of living, and a habit of expenditure, beyond his
<> " It was the clandestine management and mysterious soif cresy of this transaction, not unaccompanied by no unreason- able presumption of the wages of apostacy, that justly excited the generous sensations of these noble persons ; sympathising in a spirit of the purest patriotism for their exhausted country, and gloriously standing forth as the advocates of ceconomy j amidst the unbounded prodigalities of ministerial corruption."
^' Reply," p. 24.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. •Jl
income, rendered Mr. Burke the retainer of Lord Rockingham, and on the death of this nobleman some similar dependance was to be found : and at last no alternative was left but servility to a ministry whom he had reviled, and obligations to men whom he despised."
And now we judge, that to those in whose bosoms true patriotism is not quite extin- guished, Ave cannot conclude our notice of this reply in any manner so interesting, as by quoting the following sketch of the '' public character " of that distinguished nobleman, whom Mr. Burke attacked with " coarsenesses of phraseology not very honourable to such ex- quisite elegance of taste;" and yet upon whom he virtually bestowed this " high and copious panegyric, that through his remote ancestors alone, his character" was " deemed vulner- able."
" In the midst of a predominant conster- nation, that has besotted the intellects of no- bility, and perverted the organs of their men- tal sight, in consequence of a disposition to behold the sun of truth, broken and distorted on the troubled waters of Gallic fury; the duke of Bedford has preserved his mind in a calm of dispassionate neutrality : his feelings have continued without distemper, and his per- spicacity unclouded. He, doubtless, with all
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the children of Virtue and Benevolence and Sensibility, has viewed with sensations of the deepest anguish, with shuddering nerves and with a bleeding heart, the ferocious atrocities of that unhappy people ; atrocities unexampled, I believe, in the sanguinary register of human crimes; atrocities, on which to dwell with de- liberate contemplation, were an insupportable agony of spirit.
cui non conrepunt membra pavore ?
'' But his magnanimity and discernment have conspired to instruct him, how to separate the actors from the cause; to distinguish the genuine philosophical consequences of radical reformation, from the local, national, and edu- cational peculiarities of the reformers. He has Been fortunate enough to discover, with other intelligent, unprejudiced and honest men, a variety of reasons, operative to these ex- cesses,'' unconnected with the severest prin- ciples of equality; reasons not essentially inter-
P " Immure a man in the gloomy recesses of a dungeon, where, for a succession of years, no Hght, save the casual glimmerings of a star, or the pale glances of the moon, shall render visible the palpable darkness that environs him: tell me, will such an one be able to encounter the broad beam of day, and much less the meridian blazes of the sun, without giddiness of brain and a temporary extinction of his sight?
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 7g
woven Math the broadest system of universal liberty."
'' Behold then a spectacle, viewed in all its dependencies and connections, of no ordi- nary grandeur. A young nobleman, of the higliest rank, the most splendid ancestry, and the amplest fortune, standing aloof from nearly a universal panic of his peers, at a time when the basest arts of ministerial intrigue had de- luded the public sentiment into a confusion of constitutional freedom with levelling demo- cracy, and had made even an opposition to slaughter and devastation a source of obloquy and danger.
" From the shield of ethereal temper, pre- sented by such genuine magnanimity, such public virtue, such disinterested patriotism, even the furious lance of Mr. Burke, that flower of chivalry, the weapon of mere mortal passion, falls innoxious to the ground."
■postquam arma dei ad Vulcania venturo est.
Mortalis mucro^ glacies ceu futilis, ictu Dissiluit: fulva resplendent fragmina arena.
In this manner Mr. Wakefield expressed his
This, if I mistake not, may be justly deemed the condition of the French at the crisis under contemplation. But a long twilight of liberty had prepared our eyes to meet the emer- gence of open day without dizziness and stupefaction,"
"Reply/ p. 41.
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admiration of the senatorial conduct of the didve of Bedford, whose memory has com- pletely acquired Mdiat party-spirit denied to him while living — the gratitude of a whole na- tion, for his truly noble exertions to improve the most important branches of their industry.; actuated, as his eloquent panegyrist has re- marked, by " an ardent desire to employ his faculties in the way, whatever it might be, in which he could most contribute to the good of his country, and the general interests of man- kind.'">
q «
Speech of the Honourable C. J. Fox," p. 12,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 81
CHAP. V.
Mr- Wakefield's Edition of Pope's Hovier — " General Olser- vations on Homer and his Translators'" — Publication of Lucretius— Diatribe — " Letter to Jacob Bryant, Esq"— " Letter to William Wilberforce, Esq."
In a former chapter we quoted a passage from the Preface to the " Observations on Pope," in which Mr. Wakefield mentioned his Edition of that poet's Homer, which he un- dertook in 179^5 at the desire of several re- spectable booksellers, and published in eleven volumes 8vo. " with additional notes critical and illustrative." For such an office he was eminently qualified by his exact acquaintance with the original, and he applied himself wi th peculiar satisfaction to examine the work of a translator whose poetical talents he so greatly admired.
Of the text of Pope he has given a very correct edition, distinguishing all his notes. To these he has made large additions, desigj.ied in a few instances to amend his orthograpViy, and
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occasionally to suggest such variations as M'ould convey a more accurate idea of the phrase- ology of Homer.
He has pointed out the translator's devia- tions, in various places, from the sense and spirit of his original ; and sometimes Avhere Pope is peculiarly happy in preserving them he traces, with apparent success, the obliga- tions which he owed to his predecessors in this department; men of superior learning, though far less accomplished with the graces of poetic diction.
He has also produced several passages in which Pope has been surpassed (chiefly on the score of fidelity) by his successors, who have translated detached parts of Homer, but espe- cially by the justly admired, and as justly la- mented Cowper, whose Iliad and Odyssey, in V)lank verse, had been lately given to the public.
To a variety of remarks thus scattered over the work, Mr. Wakefield added " General Ob- ser vations relative to Homer and his Transla- tor, '" which " are prefixed to the Translation of the Odyssey."' Of these Observations we
■■ Wakefield's Pope's Homer, vii. p. xlvii. ' Ibid. i. p. clxxxvii. Note.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 83
shall make the larger use, as they have never been pubUshed separately, and are only at- tached to an expensive work which must be in comparatively few hands.
The former part of them were designed to " contribute their assistance in fixing the pre- cise time at which Homer flourisht;" and in the editor's opinion " certainly exhibit cogent presumptions in favour of the high antiquity of that £era."'
He next offers a variety of considerations which affect the originality of Homer, '' first premising, that though they may appear dero- gatory in some measure to the reputation of the father of poetry, as an unparallelled in- ventor, they will solve a puzzling problem" in
t Ibid. vii. p. liv.
" " We are generally instructed to believe that poetry issued from the hands of Homer, like Minerva from the brain of Jupiter^ perfect and mature at once, without the customary progress from lisping infancy to the full articulation of maturer years J a supposition irreconcileable at once to reason, to history and experience ; a supposition, inconsistent with the invariable process attendant on every intellectual operation of humanity, which is doomed to labour through all the interme- diate gradations of improvement to the summit of complete efficiency.
" Now, in addition to this philosophical incongruity, which amounts to little less than a physical impossibility, and is, abstractedly considered^ all but an effect without a cause ; a 2
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the theory of the human mind, and may contri- bute indeed to fix that reputation on the durable basis of true and rational deductions.'"^
remarkable fact obtrudes itself on our notice^ subversive of this very prevalent, but wild imagination. The poetry of Hesiod, but especially his epic specimen,; TAe Shield of Hercules, which is not excelled, I think, in real sublimity of thought, or splen- dour of versification, by any portion of the Iliad, with which it can be properly compared; this poem, I say, so exactly re- sembles the acknowledged works of Homer, not only in the character of its numbers, and in every circumstance of phrase- ology, but the adoption too of similar epithets, kindred ex- pressions, and verses of the same structure, that either one must have borrowed from the other, or both must have drawn their supplies from the same common fountain,
" But, as no historical tradition, and no internal peculiarity will authorize us to exculpate one of these poets from the charge of plagiarism at the expence of the other, so, such a supposition will give us no assistance, at all adequate to the present exigency, in explaining that philosophical difficulty just stated, with respect to Homer's instantaneous perfection, as it were, in the poetic art. " We discover then no alterna- tive to which recourse can be had for the solution of our problem, but that of some common original; some pre-exist- ing models of poetical execution" [Fabric. Bib, Grace, i. 3.]; by which both these favourites of the Muses were disciplined to that pitchof excellence, which has been acknowledged in their writings by the best literary judges of every succeeding age to the present day: an acknowledgment, not impuiable, I am persuaded, to an undistinguishing veneration for antiquity, or a senseless acquiescence in the dogmatical edicts of former
^ Ibid.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 85
" From these previous observations on the poetry and age of Homer, " he proceeds thus
critics. We know very well that poetical efTusions of un- tutored genius are not uncommon even in that stage of po- litical imperfection, which school-taught pride has too rudely stigmatized with the name of savage lifej and that poetry is at least the invariable concomitant of increasing civilization and refining manners. Is it not morally certain then that a numerous race of bards must have exercised their genius in so polished a language, as that of Greece was undoubtedly be- come in the days of Homer, for several generations before the birth of their immortal successor 3 of which indeed that lan- guage itself thus methodized and attuned, is of itself a silent, but irrefragable proof? The histories of Orpheus, Amphioti, and many others, are blended, doubtless, with a copious in- fusion of traditionary fiction; and the merit of these poetical theologians is seen enlarged through the misty medium of mythological obscurity: but the tuneful predecessors of the Homeric age [Eust. II. 3,], amounting to no less than seventy in number according to Fabricius [Bib. Graec. Init.], must have made, with some abatements from this catalogue (though many certainly existed unknown to written records now in being) such improvements in their art, as must contribute greatly to the perfection of all their followers. But as in a building, the foundation, which is the more important part, is concealed under ground, while the superstructure, supported by it, alone is seen, and engrosses our admiration; so Homer has concentrated in himself that blaze of glory, which the ir- radiations of former ages must have essentially contributed to form : and as honey, though collected from every variety of plants and flowers, abundantly diversified in the quality of their sweets, becomes one luscious mass, in which no individual flavour is now perceptible j so the poetry of Homer compounds
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to cliaracterize his " sublime and elegant translator."
" Of the qualifications requisite for such an arduous undertaking, both from its nature and extent, it cannot be disputed that Pope was endoNved with sympathetic genius, with a deli- cate perception of poetic beauty, a trembling sensibility, prepared to vibrate at every impulse of sentimental passion, an ear finely tuned, by the hand of nature and the key of art, to the -voice of melody; with a comprehensive do- minion over all the poetical versatilities of language, and all the harmonious capacities of English verse. But another endowment, emi- nently advantageous to a faithful execution of such a project, the competency of his learning,
and absorbs the separate excellencies of all the musical fra- ternity that preceded him. Nor am I unpersuaded, that the standing epithets of his gods and heroes, with other appropriate forms of speech, were already provided to his hands,, and become sanctified by long prescription to invariable use. Whether any other assistances might be derived by Homer, who probably makes but few excursions in the main facts beyond the high road of authentic history, from the remains of older bards, in the general plan and structure of his wonderful per- formance the eyeof criticism cannot possibly descry, from her low elevation on the wreck of literature, through the palpable darkness and wide waste of such remote antiquity."
Wakefield's Pope's Homer vii. Gen. Obs, p.liv— Iviii.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 87
I mean, may be the subject of reasonable con- troversy.
" I sliall eno-ao-e in a circumstantial discus- sion of this point, and lay at once my collec- tion of evidences before the public, without fear and without reserve : conscious as I am, that my supreme admiration of the poetical powers of this extraordinary man, which has bordered on enthusiasm from my very infancy, will amply secure, with the dispassionate and candid, my exertions on this argument, without an appeal to general character, from every suspicion of petulant singularity, pedantic af- fectation or barbarous malignity.""
Johnson in his life of Pope observes that " to those who censured his politics were added enemies yet more dangerous, who called in question his knowledge of Greek, and his qualifications for a translator of Homer. To these he made no public opposition ; but in one of his letters escapes from them as well as he can. At an age like his, for he was not more than twenty-five, with an irregular edu- cation, and a course of life of Avhich much seems to have passed in conversation, it is not very likely that he overflowed with Greek. But when he felt himself deficient he sought
" "Gen.Obs." p.lx.
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assistance; and what man of learning would refuse to help him ?" ^
Pope's acute biographer presently adds, "he had the French Homers of La Valterie and Dacier, and the English of Chapman, Hobbs, and Ogylby. With Chapman he had very frequent consultations, and perhaps never translated any passage till he had read his version, which indeed he has been sometimes suspected of using instead of the original.""'
Johnson has also preserved a letter from Pope to a literary friend, in which the trans- lator confesses his " own imperfectness in the language" of Homer, and acknowledges the deference he paid to that sense of the original given him by Hobbs and Chapman/
Upon such high authority were doubts en- tertained as to that classical knowledge which some of Pope's admirers had so bofdly claimed for him. But the present undertaking en- gaged his editor in a more critical enquiry into this subject than could be fairly demanded
'/ " Johnson's Works," xi. yg.
^ Ibid. 80. This account of Pope's obligations to Chapman, Mr. W. calls an " indistinct and apparently conjectural state- ment."
" Wakefield's Pope's Homer/' i. Pref, Ixi, Note.
* " Johnson's Works," xi. 197, See part of this Letter quoted with remarks in Wakefield's Gen. Obs. Ixviii.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 89
in a general biography of English Poets, and lie expresses the result of this investigation with no small conlidence'' in the conclusions to which it had conducted him.
^ " It is my persuasion tlien that our poet, far from appre- hending M'ith suitable promptitude the original language of the author, whom he undertook to exhibit in an English dress, was not so familiarly acquainted even with the Latin tongue, as to form an instantaneous conception of a passage by reading Homer in the Latin interpretation of him, that accompanies the school editions : by which expressions I understand such a ready conception of a sentence, as would enable a reader to give an adequate translation of it with a fidelity that super- seded a repeated and laborious perusal 5 a perusal altogether incompatible, it is evident, with a timely execution of so long a work. In proof of this assertion, I can decisively pronounce, after an experimental examination of his whole performance, that he appears uniformly to have collected the general pur- port of every passage from some of his predecessors, Dryden, Dacier, Chapman, or Ogilby : a process, not to be supposed, for a moment invariably pursued by any man, capable of forming a distinct, and, generally speaking, a true delineation of his author from the verbal metaphrase of a Latin version. The truth of this declaration will admit of no controversy after a practical examination shall be instituted by a specific com- parison of our poet's version with those of the translators here mentioned : a truth sufficiently corroborated by our ability to refer all his misrepresentations, which are frequent and in many cases singular and gross, with all his alterations and additions, which are innumerable, to one or other of his pre- decessors j except in very few instances, which analogy will set to the account of my incompetency, from reading not sufficiently extensive and imperfect information, to trace all
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Prcceecling to the other branch of his duty as an editor of this work, he observes, that "if Ave turn our attention to the translation itself, and consider the great extent and multifarious difficulties of such an undertaking ; we must pronounce it an unrivalled effort, in its kind, of ingenuity and taste. In the descriptive parts of the poem, such as the catalogue of the ships and the list of warriors, the translation of our countryman is at least equal to its original : and in the sublimer exhibitions of Homer's genius, particularly the descriptions of his battles, our English bard seems instinct with all the genuine fire, with all the divine enthu- siasm, of his sublime exemplar, and kindles in his progress with the unborrowed raptures of native rage. His failings (for even the Iliad of Pope is stamped with this signature of hu- manity) were a defect in suitable fidelity to his author, a want of simplicity, unnecessary and incongruous additions, careless or inju- dicious omissions, unpardonable rhymes.""
his authorities and assistances, rather than ascribe this failure;
to a fundamental error in my supposition. But the notes, I
presume, which I have interspersed through the course of the
poems, will ascertain this determination beyond all possibility
of contradiction.
" Gen. Ob." Ix— Ixii.
*^ Ibid, Ixxiv.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 91
Having employed several pages in offering proofs of these failings and remarks upon them, he concludes this branch of his General Obser- vations in language dictated by the sincerity so familiar to his mind, and which we are per- suaded will be acceptable to every reader of cultivated taste or moral feeling.
"Thus, under the impression of a reveren- tial diffidence, bordering on religious awe, but sustained by a conviction of disinterested pur- pose, and protected, I trust, by my enthusiastic admiration of the mighty genius and exquisite accomplishments of our translator, have I pre- sumed, but with a trembling hand of conscious imbecility, to delineate a few dark spots, scarcely visible but to the telescopic eye of searching criticism, on this luminary of tran- scendant brightness ; from whose fountain the urns of all future adventurers in English verse will be replenished.'"^
In connection with this passage the follow- ing conclusion of the General Observations may well deserve attention. "To remove from myself no improbable accusation of censorial malignity, imputable either to constitutional sourness, to an envious disparagement of un- attainable accomplishments, or an insolent af-
«* " Gen, Ob," Ixxxv.
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fectation of delicate sensibility and superior discernment ; I must advertise the reader that to notice imperfections vas more consonant to my duty, than to expatiate on excellence. The numberless elegances of Pope's translation would in this case have reduced me to the ne- cessity of perpetual exclamation only, with no great deference to the taste and sagacity of the reader : Pulchr6, ben^, recte ! must have been the wearisome and monotonous burthen of every paragraph. The gay profusion of poetic flowers through this paradise of the Muses beams with a bloom of beauty, and breathes with a gale of fragrance, which must excite vibrations of pleasure on the dull sen- sorium even of the most inanimate observer; and will charm the more delicate sensations of sympathetic souls with inexpressible and eternal rapture 1"^
To return to the order of the General Ob- servations, Mr. Wakefield next discusses the comparative powers of translation, possessed by Dryden and Pope; the Virgil of the former he regards as contributing to the " improvement of Pope, as an excellent model, as a treasury of poetic beauties, and as an incentive of emu- lation : a work, which made him indeed in a
" Gen. Ob." xcvi, vii.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. (>3
great measure what he was. The stream of Pope's poetry," he adds, '' clear, and full, and strong, may be justly compared to the gran- deur and exuberance of the Nile : but its fountains, like those of the river of Egypt, are not unknown." ^
He next introduces a short account " of the poetical translators of Homer's poems who pre- ceded Pope, "^ and then passes the following judgment upon Mr. Cowper's labours in the same department, which will conclude our ac- count of this publication. We transcribe the passage entire, as whatever is connected with such a name must excite no common interest.
" The merits of Mr. Cowper it is much more difficult to estimate, with a benevolent regard at the same time to the sacred feelings of an amiable writer, under a reverence inspired by a man of fine genius, and with justice to the public by a religiously scrupulous adherence to sincerity. I speak with unwilling emphasis, but unaffected hesitation, when I assert, if my own ears are not absolutelv unattuned to the mellifluous cadence of poetic numbers, the structure of Mr. Cowper's verse is harsh, broken, and inharmonious, to a degree incon- ceivable in a writer of so much original and
f "Gen. Ob."lxxxviii. s Ibid.
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intrinsic excellence. His fidelity to his author is, however, entitled to unreserved praise, and proclaims the accuracy and intelligence of a critical proficient in his language. The true sense of Homer, and the character of his phraseology, may be seen in Mr. Cowper's version to more advantage beyond all com- parison, than in any other translation whatso- ever within the compass of my knowledge. His epithets are frequently combined after the Greek manner, which our language most hap- pily admits, with singular dexterity and com- plete success ; his diction is grand, copious, energetic, and diversified ; full fraught with every embellishment of poetic phraseology ; his turns of expression are on many occasions hit off with most ingenious felicity, and there are specimens of native simplicity also in his performance, that place him at least on a level with his author, and vindicate his title in this respect to a superiority over all his predeces- sors in this most arduous and painful enter-
'J h
prize.
^ " Gen. Ob." xci. On this passage Mr. Hayley remarks, " The late Mr. Wakefield, in republishing Pope's Homer, mentioned Cowper's superior fidelity to his original, with the liberal praise of a scholar, but he falls, I think, into injudicious severity on the structure of his verse."
Hayley's Life of Cowper.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. gS
From the Preface to the second edition of his Homer, it appears that these strictures were well received by Mr. Cowper, and came before him under such circumstances that very unexpectedly they had an important place' in his affecting story.
Yet it should be remembered that Mr. W. could only judge by the first edition of Cowper's Homer, now confessedly so much amended as to be almost a new work.
^ " During two long years from this most anxious period, the translation continued as it was, and though in the hope of its being able to divert his melancholy, I had attempted more than once to introduce it to its author : I was every time pain- fully obliged to desist. But in the summer of lygO, when he had resided with me twelve miserable months, the intro- duction, long wished for, took place. To my inexpressible as- tonishment and joy, I surprized him one morning with the Iliad in his handj and with an excess of delight which I am still more unable to describe, I the next day discovered that he had been writing. Were I to mention one of the happiest moments of my life, it might be that which introduced mc to the following lines —
*' Mistaken meanings corrected."
" Admonente G. Wakefield."
B. XXIII.
L. 429. —that the nave
Of thy neat wheel seem ev'n to grind upon it, L. 865. As when (the North wind freshening) near the bank
Up springs a fish in air, then falls again
And disappears beneath the sable flood,
So, at the stroke, he bounded.
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Ijf the same year (1796^) appeared the first voUime of ]\Ir. Wakefield's edition of Lucre- tius, This was followed by the two remainino- volumes in the course of the succeeding year.
L. 101 S. Thenceforth Tydldes o'er his ample shield
Aim'd and still aim'd to pierce Iiim in the neck.
Or better thus
Tydides> in return, with spear high-pois'd O'er the broad shield, aim'd ever at his neck.
Or best of all
Then Tydeus' son, with spear high pois'd above The ample shield, stood aiming at his neck.
" He had written these lines with a pencil, on a leaf, at the end of his Iliad ; and when I reflected on the cause which gave them birth, I could not but admire its disproportion to the ef- fect. What the voice of persuasion had failed in for a year, accident had silently accomplished in a single day. The cir- cumstance I allude to was this; I received a copy of the Iliad and Odyssey of Pope, then recently published by the editor above mentioned, with illustrative and critical notes cf his own. As it commended Mr. Cowper's translation in the preface, and occasionally pointed out its merits in the notes, I was careful to place it in his way, though it was more from a habit of experiment which I had contracted, than from well- grounded hopes of success. But what a fortunate circumstance was the arrival of this work? and by what name worthy of its influence shall I call it? In the moutli of an indifferent person it might be chance ; but in mine, common gratitude requires that it should be Providence."
" Preface to Cowper's Homer," Ed. 2d.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 97
On this undertaking his future f\ime as a classical editor will principally rest. Nor could it be a service of trifling importance to the republic of letters, to restore a v/ork of such celebrity, from the numerous depravations by which it was deformed, to a state approaching its original purity.
His first design appears to have been to publish this author on a smaller scale, cor- respondent to the editions of Horace and Virgil, which had lately passed under his care; but the cases were widely different. Those poets had employed the labour of critics of every order, and at every period, since the re- vival of literature; so that nearly all the sources from which thev could be illustrated or re- ceive emendation, had been already exhausted. On the contrary, the editor of Lucretius ex- plored a path but rarely trodden. His labours were extended with his progress, till he was constrained to abandon the contracted plan which he at first designed.
In the preparation of a more rigidly critical edition, Mr. Wakefield availed himself of all the resources in his power, of which he gives a particular account in his preface to the first volume. The English libraries supply several manuscripts of this poem. Those which he
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mentions as having principally used are, one from the public hbrary of the University of Cambridge," three from the British Museum, and one, the property of ]\Ir. Poore. All the early editions, M'ith the exception of the first, Avhich is scarcely known, and is supposed not to exist in England, were diligently collated, and by their assistance many valuable readings weie recovered, which had been displaced by the negligence or temerity of later editors.
With such resources added to the copious stores of his own learning, and the acquisitions of a highly cultivated taste, he engaged in the labour of revising and illustrating the text of his author. His eminent success in this un- dertaking has been acknoAvledged even by those who may be deemed his enemies. Among his friends who testified their high opinion of
•" Mr. Wakefield complains [Vol. i. Prcfat. i>..] that the laws of the University of Oxford contract the advantage of the noble literary ti-easures which are there reposited by not per- mitting them to be removed from the public library. A MS. of which this regulation forbad him the use, was shewn to him in ]7Q7. [Vol. ii. Prefat.] He was then at Oxford, for the first and only time in his life, accompanied by one of the present writers. They were indebted to the polite attentions of the Rev. Mr Kett, of Trinity College, for a sight of whatevf.r their short stay would allow them to visit.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. gg
the work, he had the happiness to rank men of the most elegant taste and some of the ahlest scholars hoth at home and ahroad."
In this edition much attention has been paid to the restitution of the ancient orthography. The imitations of Lucretius, by succeeding writers, are often happily traced, and where he has been followed by Virgil, emendations of the text of that poet are suggested in a great variety of instances.
The first volume is dedicated to Mr. Fox in language warm from the heart of the editor, and conveying a tribute of merited praise to the excellent qualities of that patriotic states- man. A copy of Latin verses follows on the same subject, which were much admired by many competent judges.
To the third volume is subjoined, besides the indices which usually accompany similar works, a critical index on a new and extensive plan, embracing, with other subjects, a gene- ral view of the errors incident to transcribers, an_^attention to which is of the utmost impor- tance in the application of conjectural emen- dation.
n See the Letters of Professors Heyne and Jacobs in the Appendix.
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111 the typographical execution of this work a high degree of accuracy was observed. For this the editor was ever disposed to ac- knowledge his obhgations to the unremitted and able inspection of Mr. (now Dr.) Carey." In exterior beauty the large papei^ copies are almost unrivalled, and may be regarded as a noble monument of the splendour of the English press. The very small number remaining in circulation, in consequence of the unfortunate destruction of many of them by fire, will con- fer on them an additional value in the estimate of the curious collector.
While Mr. Wakefield was employed in the completion of his Lucretius, he devoted a few hours to the composition of an essay entitled " In Euripidis Hecubam Londini nuper pub- licatam, Diatribe Extemporalis."
" Of this gentleman Mr. Wakefield thus speaks in his preface to Vol. i. p. xv.
c " per diiigens inspector operarum, cujus acumini
non paginae solummodo, sed commentationes mese, tempes- tivara aliquoties expurgationem debent."
Among other works, Dr. Carey is the autlior of a " Treatise on Latin Prosody," (first published in 1800) which was much admired and commended by Mr, Wakefield and other schdlars, and of which, we understand, a second and much improved edition is now in the press.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 101
It is well known that the work to Mhich he refers was edited by Professor Porson. Of the talents and acquisitions of this eminent scholar, perhaps no man had formed a higher or more just estimate than Mr. Wakefield, and from no quarter would he have been more truly gratified by an acknowledgment of his own exertions in the same province. The mo- tives which in part dictated this publication are announced, without disguise, in the essay itself, and are such as, under the influence of candid judgment, cannot possibly be regarded as dishonourable to the author.
In the same year (1797) he was induced to give his opinion on another subject imme- diately connected with classic literature, in " A Letter to Jacob Bryant, Esq. concerning his Dissertation on the War of Troy."
The design of this letter appears to have been not only to discuss a point of classical antiquity, but also to counteract the effect of arguments similar to those of Mr. Bryant on subjects of still higher importance. "^
<i Mr. Wakefield's motives to this publication cannot be better explained than in his opening address to the learned author.
" Sir,
" When your Dissertation first appeared, I imme- diately conceived, that the establishment of your theory, ia
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]\Ir. Wakefield states "■ two general propo- sitions, by which alone," in his opinion, "every
opposition (o such a concurrence of traditional evidence through all antiquity, must materially impair, but unintentionally on your part, the cogency of one argument in favour of the Jewish and Christian Revelations. Not supposing it, how- ever, possible for you to effect your purpose, and being fully occupied at the same time in my own pursuits, I had neither read your book, nor bestowed any farther consideration on the subject of it: v^hen, a few days ago, a learned and ingenious gentleman sent me his Dissertation on Greek and Latin Pro- sody, which is introduced by a dedication to yourselfj and amidst an extremely just and honourable encomium on your talents and erudition, acknowledges an entire conviction, from the number and quality of your arguments, that the story of Troy is fabulous in all its parts. This fulness of persuasion in so respectable a scholar, against the multifarious prejudices of unsuspecting and habitual acceptance, induced me to pur- chase your treatise; and the following remarks are the result of that cursory perusal, which sufficed to satisfy me of the perfect vanity of its contents 3 with respect, I mean, to the proof in question: for it cannot be surmised for a moment, that one of your learning and vigour of intellect can produce any work without entertaining and instructing the most ac- complished scholars of the age.
" You say, (p. 9,) ' I adhere firmly to Yarro's assertion, that the Greeks had no certain intelligence before the Olym- piads. Now the war of Troy is placed some centuries before that era.' — " These premises. Sir, may be perfectly unexcep. tionable in themselves, but will prove, 1 trust, altogether in- efficient in weakening the credibility of a fact so universally transmitted and believed as the siege and destruction of Troy. Will you allow then, suppose, the prevalent tradition of a deluge among heathen nations to be but a mean presumption
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 103
plausible vestige of argumentation, every de- lusory appearance of probability" in support of ]Mr. Bryant's hypothesis " is completely done awa}'."
" 1. No leading point in history, of va- I'ious connexion, abundant attestation, and general belief from a remote antiquity con- tiguous to its atchievement, can be disproved, or discredited, by the disagreements and in- consistencies of M^'iters, relative to concomi- tant circumstances of subordinate consi- deration: and much less by the vague and ar- bitrary conjectures of ingenious disputants in distant a"'es.
" 2. Such a fact (e. g. a fact so universally transmitted and believed as the siege and de- struction of Troy) cannot be invalidated by
in favour of that event, because of its long precedence to vviit- ten records, and the Olympiads of Greece? Or wovild the present condition of Jews and Christians, do you think, if all their literary monuments were abolished, be deemed an in- competent evidence, that their traditionary doctrines issued from an authentic -Bource? or could it be reconcileable to rea- son and experience upon any supposition but that of the ulti- mate veracity of their pretensions ? It is unquestionably most evident, that historical repositories are not absolutely essential, and in some cases, similar to that of Troy, and the revealed dispensations, not even much subsidiary, to the claims of au- thenticity, and the enforcement of rational belief."
" Letter," &c. pp. 3, 4.
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arguments derived from })oetic fable; which takes a striking event merely as a ground- work, and has always been indulged in a su- perinduction of adventitious embeliibhments, either resulting from an exaggeration and modification of received truths, or from an absolute invention of imaginary circunistan- ces.'"i
In the course of this letter, as in all his works, Mr. Wakefield discovers that various' application of his miscellaneous reading and observations, bv which he was accustomed to enliven the subjects he discussed, as well as to confirm his ar^nments/
c
1 " Letter," &c. p. 5.
■■ Mr. Bryant having remarked in the Dissertation, p. 25, " Another ditficulty arises from the state of their shipping, which one would imagine, in the space of ten years, must have been rendered useless j and though the fleet must have been in a state of ruin yet we read not of any repairs." Mr. . Wakefield answers, " without recurring to conjectural solu- tions of a conjectural difficulty, without equipping one phan- tom of the brain to combat with another, without taking refuge in the copious resources of poetical invention, I shall content myself with a plain reply from the Archaeologia, Vol. xi. p. l64. ' The Royal Sovereign, built by Pett in l637, continued a useful and valuable ship in our navy until the be- ginning of the present century. She was in all the actions at sea during the reigns of Charles IL and William IH. and did great service in the fight off La Hogue in l6()2.' Huncchas
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 105
As to the stile of censure into M'hich he is occasionally betrayed, in controverting the opinions of ]\Ir. Bryant, it cannot be denied that it is too unceremonious, especially when
an hunc sequeris? Shall we accept Mr. Br)'ant's reveries, or Mr. Willefs/ac/5?"
The author of the Dissertation, p. 39, infers the nonexist- ence of Troy, because " Demetrius Scepsius, a native ofTroas, also Hestioeas Alexandrinus, and the geographer Strabo, an Asiatick, with several others, could never upon enquiry find out where the city could possibly have stood." Mr. Wake- field opposes to this argument " a fact of ocular and personal experience. Flawford Church, a solitary building in the fields, about five miles from Nottingham, was one of the most cele- brated and spacious structures of its kind, with three or four exceptions, in that county. When I was at school in thai neighbourhood, in the year ] 766, the building was ruinous, but burial service was occasionally performed in it by my master, a clergyman, now living. I have been several timsS in the church myself to see some ancient monuments of cru- saders, mentioned by Thoroton in his history. To prevent accidents, it was entirely demolished, and the steeple tjirown down by some colliers from Lord Middleton's pits at Wollaton. In the year 1784, or 5, I went with two others to contemplate the spot where this romantic pile had stood. Exactly as I knew 4he place, we could only ascertain it, and that after much dili- gent speculation, by the protuberant lines which marked out the main walls, and a few hillocks of stone, completely covered with grass and moss. Such obliteration had time occasioned, 0 yo'iyoi 'jrccvSaixanup, in no longer a period than that employed by Isocrates in the composition of his panegyric."
" letter," &c. pp. 10, 12.
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addressed to such a venerable and distinguished scholar. But Mr. Wakefield, from his eager- ness of composition, was often liable to adopt expressions which he accommodated to a sense widely different from their usual acceptation. This remark, equally applicable to the gene- rality of his works, is abundantly confirmed by the conclusion of the letter.
" And here, sir, I shall close my summary review indeed of vour Dissertation on the war of Troy, but, as I persuade myself, sufficiently circumstantial and prolix for the purpose under contemplation: a review, conducted M'ith a freedom congenial to my life and manners, but without malignity, which is a stranger to my breast: with a respect bordering on reverence for your various and profound erudition, by which I have been so often delighted and im- proved ; but M'ith no compassion for learned extravagances, no not the dreams of Jove him- self! It is a defect of judgment, not a distemper of the heart ; the casual aberration of a rapid pen, not intentional hostility ; if I have sprinkled more salt through the preceding pages than what was needful to preserve such a frail fabric as an occasional pamphlet of a disre- garded writer from present insipidity and speedy putrefaction.
" Believe me, sir, with every sanguine
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wish for the continued serenity of the evening of your life, and the peaceful enjoyment of your great literary honours, so generally paid, and so justly due, your ardent admirer and sincere friend,"
In this year (1797) was published "A Practical View of the prevailing religious sys- tem of Professed Christians in the higher and middle classes in this country, contrasted with real Christianity, by William Wilberforce, Esq."
Mr. Wakefield was as zealous as this gentle- man could possibly be for the abolition of that disgrace of humanity and civilization the Afri- can Slave Trade. ^ Yet upon other questions no two persons could easily be found, firm believers in revelation and both lovers of their country, Mdiose opinions were more at variance.
In the popular treatise which we have men- tioned are many valuable remarks and very just views of the importance of religious prin- ciple. At the same time the ingenious and amiable author appears uot a little devoted to '' all the priest and all the nurse has taught." Yetj when he would recommend Christianity as entitled '' to a serious examination" from
« See'' Mem." i. 103— 1 96.
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unbelievers ; this ^yriter can adopt more liberal ideas. He claims " Locke and Newton," not- withstanding their heretical pravity, as his fellow-christians, classing them with great pro- priety among *' those, who by the reach of their understandings, or the extent of their knowledge, and by the freedom too of their minds, and their daring to combat existing prejudices, have called forth the respect and admiration of mankind."*
In his political character this gentleman was an almost uniform supporter of Mr. Pitt's administration, and particularly of his measures in conducting the late destructive war. Nor did any of the domestic severities of that ad- ministration seem to excite a suspicion in his breast that Christian benevolence was in the least violated even by men whom, with all his partialit}'^, he could not have considered as generally influenced by Christian principles.
Soon after the appearance of the work we
' " Practical View" 2d Ed. 467. When Mr. Wilberforcfe (Ibid p. 474) described Sceptics and Unitarians as natural allies, could a person of his information be ignorant that Locke and Newton were well known to have exploded what he as- sumes as " the fundamental doctrines of the Gospel/' and to have been almost if not altogether \J n\\.Ax\av\?, ? This inaccuracy, not to say unfairncsSj is by no means peculiar to Mr. Wilber- force.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. KXj
liave mentioned, Mr. Wakefield brought out " A Letter to William Wilberforce, Esq. on the subject of his late Publication," which quickly passed to a second edition.
His respect for the author's intention, his character of the performance, and the design which he proj)osed in the publication of this Letter, we shall state in his own words.
" Your attention to religious subjects, in the midst of a corrupt and faithless generation, is regarded with more honour and approbation by none of your warmest friends than by your opponent: nor, I believe, have your thoughts since we were contemporaries once at Cam- bridge, and before that period, been more in- tensely occupied in the same 'speculations and pursuits than mine. Our conclusions, however, from these diligent researches prove not only different but totally contradictory: yet, I presume your purposes and affections to have been equally pure, equally zealous, and equally dispassionate with my own.
" But, sir, my leading motive to this public and free address had its origin in that countenance, which the favourable opinion of your character very generally entertained, as a sincere and pious Christian has reflected on the political conduct of those statesmen, whose views you have promoted with eagerness and
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constancy; and whose interests you have in- terwoven with your own.' It becomes there- fore, I am persuaded, a consideration of some moment to Englishmen at large, to be supphed Avith some measure of determination, whether one, thus sanctified in the estimation of his countrymen, thus assuming the dignified office of a religious censor in society, be indeed entitled to this large tribute of admiration, and illuminated with that knowledge of his subject, which has a claim to ensure his precepts a reverend acceptation with his disciples.
" It Avas my primary intention to examine your publication in detail", but, your funda-
* Mr. Wakefield thus remarks in another place, *•' Mr. Wilberforce I believe most sincerely to be a very religiously disposed, well-intentioned, sensible, and conscientious person ; and I greatly honour him for these excellencies. But he sup- poses, with a very pitiable infatuation, that war and bloodshed will enter into association with the promotion of vital Chris- tianity : a conceit which I endeavoured to expose as a most horrible and pernicious error."
Intended " Address to the Judges," p. 6.
u Mr. Wilberforce's Treatise was afterwards noticed by two able writers who entered into a more elaborate exami- nation of that work than Mr. Wakefield undertook, or than his ardour of composition and his other occupations would probably have allowed him to execute. See " A Review of Mr. Wilberforce's Treatise in Letters to a Lady, by Thomas Belsham, 1/98," and " Letters to WiUiam Wilberforce, Esq
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. ill
mental principles are, in my judgment, so es- sentially erroneous, your whole conception of the gospel so absolutely incompatible with the undisputed conduct and with the unequivocal dictates of Christ himself, as to render such a specific discussion of your sentiments an under- taking of inextricable and hopeless per- plexity."^
Mr. Wakefield proceeds " to delineate some striking features of genuine Christianity, from the conduct and character of our Saviour him- self: and from his precepts,'' remarking that " the relief of human misery in all its varieties and complications of distress, the reformation of the vicious, the instruction of the ignorant, the confirmation of the virtuous, the conso- lation of the meek, the encouragement of the docile, the generous and indignant reprobation of demure hypocrisy ; these godlike purposes, as the sole means of personal happiness, by fulfilling the will of his Father and our Father, of his God and our God, through active bene- volence to the workmanship of the Creator, was the grand rule of conduct to the man of Nazareth ; was the sole occupation of his
M. P. on the doctrine of Hereditary Depravity, by a Layman., ^ " Letter, &:c." p. 1—4.
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thoughts, the unceasing employment of his time, the devoted purpose of his hfe. Tlie virtues and graces of the gospel, like those of its illustrious founder, are activity and exer- cise, not torpid influences, and indolent sen- sations : no stagnant pool of devotional mum- meries, of insipid mysticism," that cumbers the- ground, and pollutes the atmosphere; but a salubrious expansion of living zvaters, dis- persing health, animation, and fertility, through the earth, and springing up into everlasting hfe."^
Among those who recollect the political events of the period at which the Letter to Mr. Wilberforce was written, it will excite no sur- prise that a person of Mr. Wakefield's acute feelings, with his views of war in general, and of the late war especially, should express him- self as to the conduct of its supporters with an ardour which some may deem indiscreet and extravagant/ We forbear, for obvious reasons,
" See further upon this subject a Letter from Mr.Wake-^ field, dated Nov. 16, 1/80, in Appendix A.
y " Letter, Sec." p. 8—10.
^ Of some expressions in this pamphlet, the then Attorney General endeavoured to take advantage on tlie trial of Mr. Cut hell the Bookseller. On this conduct of his prosecutor Mr. Wakefield has these observations. " My letter to Mr. WiU
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 113
to quote the representations on this subject wliich he thought it his duty to lay before the pubhc. We rather close our notice of this pamphlet with the Author's apology for a stile of composition, on account of which he has been so often censured by contemporary writers and periodical critics.
" According to my own conceptions of the subject under contemplation, I have assi^'ned proper words to their proper places. If the language be deemed in any respect too harsh and pointed, it must be so deemed with refe- rence only to the feelings of the censurer; for I could find no adequate image of my own in any other. Out of the abundance of my heart my mouth hath spoken. If crimes of the deepest dye, under the colour of Christian sanctity, can
berforce has been mentioned more than once in the course of these proceedings as a libel, with an aggravation of such epi- thets as betray acrimonious passion rather than sober reason^ ignorant prejudice more than liberal information. I do appre- hend, (and I wish correction, if mistaken) that in these courts, where evidence and precedents, and verdicts, and conceded maxims, are the sole criteria of all authorized decisions, the lawyer, who denounces in judicial language the publication, on which no legal inquisition has taken place, as a most foul and infamous libel, thus erecting his own private fancies into axioms of law, is guilty, not merely of a very coarse illiberality, but of a most indefensible professional indecorum."
Intended " Address to the Judges," p. 3 — d. VOL. II. I
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be stigmatized by any terms of reproacli more than commensurate to their deserts, I grudge no man the enjoyment of this opinion, but amidst tlie invectives of foes, and the remon- strances of friends, continue to retain my own, and silently transfer from myself, on deliberate and deep conviction, the disproportion in this case to some erroneous principle of action in my olijectors. The genuine correspondencies of words and things, and the reality of moral distinctions, will still subsist in spite of the prudery, fastidiousness, or mistaken candour of mankind, and will neither be confounded nor disrespected with impunity."^
' " A Letter, &c. " pp. 66, 67.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. ii;
CHAP. VL
Mr. TFahefield's " Reply to some Parts of the Bishop of Lan- dq^s Address to the People of Great Britain' — Proceed- ings against the Publishers — The Authors Trial and Defence,
1798—1799.
IMr. Wakefield's next publication, Avhich excited peculiar interest from its unfortunate consequences to himself and his family, M^as occasioned by the folio wino; circumstances.
In Januar}^, 1798, appeared a political pam- phlet from the pen of Dr. Watson, bishop of Landaff, entitled " An Address to the People of Great Britain." The avowed object of the writer was to defend and support the measures pursued, at that time, by Mr. Pitt and his col- leagues in administration, and he was particu- larly decided in professing his waim, and, in- deed, unqualified approbation of the " Tax upon income," which had been lately brought forward; a mode of taxation than M'hich none appears to have excited more general aver- sion.
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The extraordinary doctrines recommended in the " Address," so little to have been ex- pected from the usual tenor of the author's former writings, called forth opposition from various quarters. Among the rest, ]\Ir. Wake- field employed a few hours in drawing up "A Reply to some Parts of the Bishop of Landaff's Address to the People of Great Britain."
The unpremeditated and rapid manner in which this pamphlet was composed,'' if it is not
'' So little intention had Mr. Wakefield of writing any ob- servations, or comments on the " Address" of the Bishop, at its first appearance, that, but for the following circumstances, be had not prevailed upon himself to interrupt the course of study, in which he was at that time much occupied, even to peruse the pamphlet.
Soon after the publication of the " Address," accidentally finding it on the table of a friend, he was desired to carry it home and read it at his leisure. This however he declined. He then made another visit, and, again meeting with this tract, read a few pages. Some positions, which accidentally caught his attention, made a strong impression upon his mind. It occurred to him, as he walked home, that it would be no useless, nor unimportant, employment to spend a i&^n hours in attempting to refute doctrines which appeared to him, not merely erroneous, but of pernicious tendency. He was the more inclined to impose this task upon himself, from the merited celebrity and high station of the author. He there- fore immediately wrote to the friend at whose house he had first seen the pamphlet, desiring him to send a copy to Hack- ney. It did not reach him till late that night, and when his
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. II7
thought sufficient to justify either the senti- ments it contains, or the language in which they are conveyed, will, at least, with men of candour and liberality, vindicate the writer from the imputation which his prosecutor en- deavoured to fix upon him, of a design to withdraw the affections of the people from the real interests and prosperity of the country.
friend visited him early on the following afternoon, he was surprised to find that Mr. Wakefield had been engaged during the interval in drawing up a " Reply to the Bishop." It was then finished for the printer, to whom it was transmitted, either that evening, or early on the next morning.
Mr. Justice Grose having hazarded an opinion, in pro- nouncing judgment on Mr, Cuthell, that the " Reply" was " a very artful composition," Mr. W. referring to that asser- tion, confirms the above statement, which we have given from a personal knowledge of the facts,
" Certainly I was not aware, before that charge, of this crafty i/igredieni in the constitution of my character; nor has my conduct in this court contributed, I should think, to en- courage an opinion of much artifice and contrivance in me. That pamphlet was never written over twice, and was finished for the press in the compass of a single day. For this unpre- meditated and quick production, my family and myself have been kept in a perpetual state of alarm and trepidation for sixteen months, without any particular furtherance of law and' justice by this long delay."
Intended " Address to the Judges," &c. p. 7".
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His admiration of Bishop Watson's talents, together Avith his inducements to publish this reply, he states in the following terms:
" The author of this Address is a prelate of high and deserved reputation ; a prelate eminently distinguished among his contem- porary academics, for acquired endowments and native vigour of understanding: nor less conspicuous as a theologian and philosopher among his countrymen at large. It is neither my practice, nor my propensity, to think or to speak of such men, but with the language of deference, and the sentiments of veneration. I must be excused, however, from the para- mount and antecedent reverence which I owe to TRUTH and patriotism, if I feel myself compelled to declare an absolute dissatisfac- tion with the political opinions of this writer, and if I venture to suggest, at the same time, a presumption of juster conceptions on these points from a mediocrity of talents in my situ- ation, than from the most pre-eminent abilities in Ids.'''
" Our minds are inevitably and impercep- tibly influenced by the contact of surrounding circumstances; and our convictions and our reasonings can no more escape the associations consequent on external station, than our bo-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. l\g
cHly constitutions can refuse to sympathise with the climate, and the atmosphere under which we live.'""
'^ Mr. Wakefield, afterwards considering more at Large the Bishop of Landaff's qualifications for taking an impartial view of the subjects he discussed, has these remarks:
" Doctor Watson is a man of very powerful abilities, and of learning, various, accurate, valuable, and profound. He was trained in the same university and under the same dis- cipline with myself. His hereditary condition and original expectations were less eligible than my own; and he com- menced his academical career with no gay visions of lucre and ambition beyond the horizon, which bounds the prospects of literary men. He is Bishop and Archdeacon of LandafF, a city on the extremity of South Wales j and he resides, some- times in London, but principally in Westmoreland, at the dis- tances, my books inform me, of 167 ^rid 300 miles from his diocese : so that he is beneficed in Dan ; and he sojourns at Beersheba. Besides this Bishoprick and Archdeaconry, he holds a living in Leicestershire from the late Duke of Rutland, my contemporary at Cambridge, and his pupil : none of the worst preferments in the gift of that noble family. This Lei- cestershire living is situated at an uncomfortable distance from Wales, and Westmoreland, and London. The Bishop pos- sesses, in addition, the King's professorship of Divinity at Cambridge} perhaps the best endowment of it's kind in Christendom. To Cambridge he never goes, nor has gone, for his professorial functions, these many years: the duties of this very important office are accordingly executed by a de- puty, who excites in the gown some regret of his illustrious principal and predecessor.
" Now I solemnly appeal to any man of honour and un- • derstanding, whether an ecelesiast'ic with such emolument^, under an establishment, that adm.its a total rsglect of duty.
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'' If, in conformity to the imperioii& dic- tates of unsophisticated reason, and the un-
and suffers sermons, prayers, and benedictions, theses, and disputations, to be performed by proxy; whether such an ecclesiastic, I say, can be deemed an impartial umpire between me and that establishment, or can give credit to that establish- ment by the suffrage of his opinion ? In truth the very worst feature of these constitutions is a tendency to dim and change the pure gold of such noble characters, as this gentleman, into a brassy adulteration of a much lower standard, and they may be compared not unfitly to the dragons tail in the Apocalypse, which drew with it a third part of the stars of heaven, and cast them to the earth."
Appendix to the intended " Address to the Judges."
The animadversions of Mr. Wakefield, on the bishop's notorious non-residence, and its pernicious consequences, can- , not better be justified than by an appeal to the sentiments of that prelate, even since he atttained to the episcopal bench.
" By being better acquainted with the situations, pros- pects, tempers, and talents of their clergy, bishops would be better able to co-operate with them in the great work of amend- ing the morals of his majesty's subjects, and of feeding the flock of Christ. It is the duty of Christian pastors in general, and of the principal shepherds particularly, to strengthen that member of the flock which is diseased, to heal that which is sick, to bind up that which is broken, to bring again thai which is driven away, and to seek that which is lost.
" There would, probably, be less of infidelity in the highest, and immorality in the lowest classes of the commu- nity, if we were all of us, in the words of Bishop Burnet ad- dressed to George I. ' obliged to live and to labour more suit- ably to our profession.'
See *' Sermons and Tracts. Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury," 8vo. pp. 412, 413.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 121
disguised frankness of my own temper, I should appear to shew more respect to intrin- sic preponderances than to distinctions merely accidental, and should sink the prelate in the politician, let no reader mistake honest zeal for petulant intemperance, or suppose me ca- pable, for a moment, of any feelings but those of pure benevolence and high esteem for my illustrious opponent."^
As to the arguments of tlie " Reply," and the representations of public men and mea- sures, which it contained, we forbear to ven- ture upon these proscribed topics. That itM^as not generally considered as " a false, scandal- ous, and seditious libel," is sufficiently proved from letters in our possession, which Mr. Wake- field received upon that occasion, some of them
With respect to Bishop Watson's conduct as Divinity Pro- fessor at Cambridge, see " Three Letters addressed to the Bishop of LandatT, by William Burdon, M. A. fellow ot Emmanuel College, Cambridge." 1/95.
The following anecdote from Dr. Jortin forms no unin- teresting contrast to this part of our subject. " Seckcndorf hath given us an instance oi Mclanchthons scrupulous honour and disinterestedness, who refused to receive his salary, as a Reader in Divinity, because he could not bestow such close attendance as, in his opinion, that office required."
" Life of Erasmus," i. 15/,
"■ " Reply," &c. pp. 1, 2. 9.
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from men of the first legal talents. Also the prelate to whom it was addressed returned the following acknowledgment for a copy sent him by the author, which as it cannot be con- sidered in the light of a private confidential communication, we feel ourselves at full li- berty to insert.
Great George Street, Westminster, Feb. 3, 1 798. SIR,
I LAST night received your reply to some parts of my pamphlet, and, apprehend- ing that 1 am indebted to you for the present of it, I take the first opportunity of returning you my thanks. I will not enter into a dis- cussion of the points on which we differ, being too conscious of the fallibility of my own judgment to be eager in pressing my opinions on any one. I have always held your talents and industry in the highest estimation, and have a sincere hope that the time will come when they will be noticed as they ought to be.
I am, Sir, Your faithful servant and well-wisher,
R. Landaff.^
'' It would surely have been honourable to Bishop Watson, with such views of his opponent, had he publicly declared his
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 123
But the ministry in which Mr. Pitt pre- sided regarded this publication with other eyes, nor had they any snch consideration for learning or sincerity as tlie Bishop of LandatF professed. The sentiments so freely avowed respecting the late war and its abettors; to- gether with the charges of corruption and abuse upon our civil and ecclesiastical systems, all conveyed in lanouao-e ardent and un- guarded, roused the indignation of these not unresentful statesmen. They soon determined on a prosecution against the author and pub- lishers of this ill-fated pamphlet.
The first victim of their resolution was Mr. Cuthell, the original publisher, who likewise sold the author's other works. Mr. Johnson, the bookseller, was presently involved in the same accusation, and afterwards Mr. Wakefield himself
With no small surprise, he heard of the ar-
disapprobatlon of the proceedings against the author and pub- lishers of the Reply to his Address. This doubtless would have been the case if, as Mr. Wakefield expresses it in his Defence, " this prelate had been eager to discharge an act of benevolence and justice." But for any thing that has appeared to the contrary, he was satisfied that the *• talents and industry" of his oppo- nent were " noticed" by the Attorney General and Mr. Justice Grose " as they ought" to have been.
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rest of his publisher, as he had never scrupled boldly to avow himself the author. He imme- diately wrote to the Attorney General, ac- knoNvledging the pamphlet, and requesting to be made alone answerable for the legal conse- quences of its publication. To this transac- tion he thus refers. ,
" Animated by conscious rectitude, nor afraid oi achiozvledglng any action, which I am not ashamed to commit, I never hesitated to give every proof of being the author of that pamphlet; and, when my unsuspecting and un- offending publisher was apprehended, I was ready to substitute myself, as the only possible offender in this transaction."^
This application having failed, or, as Mr. Wakefield expresses it, " the letter of concili- ation and apology" having " produced the contrary effects, of exasperation and resent- ment," he determined to take upon himself, so far as he was able, whatever injury Mr. Cuthell might sustain, shewing him the most liberal attention during the whole period of his prosecution, and, in the event, entirely discharging his costs of suit.
" As Cuthell," be remarks, " from his confidence in me, was involuntarily betrayed
' " Defence," pp. 36, 37.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 125
into this embarrassment, I felt mvself l)oimd ill honour to defray, and have defrayed, all his expences; M'hich amounted, far beyond my previous calculation, to no less a sum, exclu- sive of some small appendages, than £153. 4'S. Sd. which is equal to the clear annual income of all I am worth. "^ An act of generosity which, in similar circumstances, we may venture to affirm, is almost, if not entirely, without example.
The painful apprehensions of Mr. Wake- field's family, and of himself, on their account, during the year which elapsed between the ar- rest of Mr. Cuthell, and his own trial, with the various injuries they sustained, can be justly estimated only by those who endured them, or who witnessed them in the daily in- tercourses of an intimate acquaintance. He thus describes them to his jury :
" Consider, gentlemen! how afflictive this prosecution has been alread^^ More than txvelve months have elapsed now, since these proceedings were begun. Ye Mill be sensible (for the habitual inhumanities of office have not hardened your hearts to stone) of the alarms which have agitated my family and
' Intended " Address to the Judges," &:c. p. 8.
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friends, through so long a period; particularly females — mother, M'ife, and daughters — -M^ho view the black apparatus and grim practi- tioners of judicial authority with sentiments of horror disproportionate to the real terror of the objects, as presented to the less confused contemplation of manly souls. Consider also the enormous expences of these prosecutions, inconceivable to those unexercised in such odious rencounters, and of comparative insig- nificance to the wealthy, but most oppressive to men like me. One specimen of that un- costly justice, which I satirise in my pamphlet, Avas gloriously exemplified in my very iiij'or- mat'ion. Some court, or some office, of some denomination extorted sLv guineas for a copy of the charge against me : so precious, so dearly purchaseable are tXiQ favours of this in- dulgent gentleman. In short, if I were in reality that mischievous person of the infor- mation, my penalties of mind, body, and estate, (which are not half exhausted even on a pro- jMiious issue of tliis trial,- — a mere beginning of sorrows,^ my penalties, I say, from a grievous interruption of my studies, to me an irrepar- able injury, the enormous expences of the law, and the distractions of my family and rela- tives ; these penalties surely preponderate above the mistake, into Mdiich I 7nay possibly
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, 127
have fallen from a perversity of purpose or opinion." ^
With reo-ard to his feelings, merelv on his own account, a sense of the integrity of his. design, in the publication of his pamphlet, never failed to preserve his habitual cheerful- ness. Nor were his friends deficient in their kind offices.
The trial of Mr. Cuthell had been lixed for July 6, at Westminster; it was then postponed on account of the non-attendance of a full special jury, and the refusal of the Attorney- General to complete the number from the com- moTi'^ury; in the professional language, to "pray a tales." A few days afterwards the trial and conviction of Mr. Johnson took place, before the late Chief Justice Lord Kenyon,' at Guild- hall.
Mr. Wakefield iunnediately printed " A
•" ''Defence/' &c. pp. 6G— 71.
^ Upon this occasion his Lordship, a truly worthy succes- sor of " Murray, long his country's pride/' displayed his usual dignity and forbearance. The classical allusions with which he adorned his Charge to the Jury were, no doubt, designed to gratify INIr. Wakefield and many other literary characters, who happened to be among his audience.
" And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew That onf small head should carry all he knew."
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Letter to Sir John Scott, his Majesty's At- torney General, on the Subject of a late Trial in Guildhall."
Besides an introductory address, conveyed in no very courtly terms, this pamphlet, as might be expected, abounds with expressions of disgust at the harsh language so lavishly bestowed upon the " Reply," and the inteii- t'lons of its author. For it appeared through- out these proceedings that Sir John Scott was desirous that no one should consider this pro- secution as imposed upon him among the un- pleasant duties of his official situation. On the trial of Mr. Johnson, especially, unless we strangely misunderstood his language, he declared, that had he not been permitted to proceed against such a publication he would have resigned his office of Attorney General. *' Credat Judseus."
In his usual manner, Mr. Wakefield intro- duced into this pamphlet some remarks on questions of moral and political economy, the importance of which will remain, when the circumstances by which they were occasioned shall have lost their interest, and when
" Such as Kenyan is shall Eldon be."
. IJis arguments for a most extensive freer
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, 129
dom of the press, we have already quoted.'" xA.n other subject near to his heart, the low con- dition of tlie poor, M'ith the means of their improvement, he also took this opportunity to discuss.'
At length, after a tedious suspense, the trial of Mr. Cuthell came on in the Court of King's Bench, at Westminster, Feb. 21, 1799; and immediately on his- conviction the trial of Mr. Wakefield succeeded, before a jury who had been suflPered to remain in court through the whole morning, and therefore could scarcely be ex- pected to listen to his case with unwearied at- tention, or unprejudiced minds. Of this he justly complains.
'' Indeed the whole legal proceedings on this occasion appear to my judgment exceed- ingly reprehensible; especially the adjudica- tion of the two causes, the publisher's and mine, upon the same day; so that my jury were pre- viously in court, and came to a decision on my defence with the invectives of the Judge and the Attorney-General against me, and my pamphlet, still sounding in their ears. How men, virtuous, benevolent, and of amiable manners in private life, such as the Attorney-
^ See " Letter to Sir John Scott/' &c. pp, 8, &c. ' See supra. VOL. II. K
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General is represented to me by those whom I am mclined to credit, against Jacts themselves, are able to reconcile such practices with the scruples of a tender conscience, and the duties of a pure morality, is a question, M'hich ex- ceeds, I own, my capacities of solution.'""
When Mr. Wakefield understood that the At- torney-General determined to proceed against him, he resolved to undertake his own vindi- cation, and prepared a written defence, having never been accustomed to extemporaneous addresses.
He had drawn up for this occasion '* a very long defence, of much thought and labour," in which, besides detailing the circumstances of his case, and investigating the claims of his opponent to the character of an unbiassed pub- lic prosecutor, he *' discussed most copiously a topic of incomparable dignity, the liberty of the press." From " various considerations'' he contracted this enlarged plan, and confined himself principally to a summary of his rea- sonings, in connexion with the personal pecu- liarities of his cause.
Those who recollect his free and undaunted manner of declaring, and maintaining his sen-
m Preface to " Defence," &c. p. 2.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 131
timents, will not be surprised that he should dechne to commit his exculpation to such a cautious and conciliatory defence as a profes- sional advocate might have thought it his duty to adopt; otherwise he had many generous offers of assistance from gentlemen at the bar, whose talents v/ould have been very zealously em- ployed in his behalf. But indeed he had so low an o])inion of the moral and political cha- racter of the Jdministration of that day, that he could not allow himself to meet their accu- sations with any language which might be construed into an unmanly submission. *' Of men like these," he says, " let me never de- serve the friendship, nor regret the enmity. Their approbation is indelible reproach; their persecution the truest panegyric." With such views of the persons at whose instigation he suffered this prosecution, and with an unshaken confidence in the purity of his own intentions, he singly engaged in " combating a host of alarms, and prejudices, and power."
Considering the Attorney-General as one of the ministry interested in his conviction,"
■ " The artillery of my literaiy war in the prosecuted pam- phlet was levelled against what / deemed the hypocrisy, the venality, the cruelties, the impieties, of our present Admini-
2
J32 LIFE OF
rather than as an impartial prosecutor tor the public, he animadv^erts on his conduct in terms of great severity. For an ardour of ex- pression so liable to censure in this, and other parts of his defence, he offers the following apology:
stration; an Administration of which the Attorney-General is a part. Though his learning and abilities in the law were equal, I believe, to the first emoluments of his profession without the patronage of ministers; still they are in fact the prolific fountain of his honours and expectations: and for him, so circumstanced, to arrogate an exemption from the partialities of selfish influence in what most intimately con- cerns the character and condition of his patrons, is to arrogate a superiority over all the weaknesses of human nature, and an equality with the divine. We will accept his pretensions, when invariable caxises have suspended their activity: when night no longer follows the departure of the sun; when the moon ceases to be eclipsed by falling into the shadow of the earth." " Defence," pp. 9- 11.
The biographer of Sirx Thomas More records the fol- lowing among other instances of magnanimity in the conduct of that truly great man. " Instead of exerting his power to crush or silence those who opposed or slandered him as a mi- nister, he thought, as their arrows did not hit him, he received more benefit from them than from his friends : and it seems it was his opinion, that no minister who was innocent of the charge against him, would treat his accusers with insolence or persecute them with power."
" The Life of Sir Thomas More," by Dr. Warner, p. 34.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 133
" I entreat you, gentlemen! if I deliver rny sentiments in terms emphatical beyond the ceremonious insipidities of a neutral advocate, not to ascribe these energies of expression to a complexional malignity, 'but to an ingenuous love of truth, paramount to all semblances and formalities; to a hearty detestation, not of the persons, Ijut the vices, of my opponents; to a frankness and intrepidity of nature, confirmed by reflexion, and sanctioned by the example of the noblest witnesses to virtue in every country and in every age of man. 7 ruth men- tal is the conformity of our conceptions to the realities of things: truth verbal is the conso- nance of our language to those conceptions. Hence a language, not correspondent to the subject, appears to my mind an essential fail- ing in the speaker; excuseable, if it arise from constitutional timidity, or inadequacy of ap- prehension ; but extremely culpable, if it re- sult from deficiency of zeal, and temporising suggestions o^ fear or interest,''"
He next enters more immediately on his A'indication. After describing the disadvan- tages suffered by the defendant in a state pro- secution, from the customary mode of select-
o «
Defence," pp. b', 7, See supra, p. ] 13.
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ing a special jury, ^ he undertakes to prove his
" freedom from the seditiousness and mahce
and ill-disposition " imputed to him in the in-
formatiofj,'^ " by evidence internal and extra-
P " Out of forty-eight names selected for jurors, we must be sensible that a fourth part, either antiministerial or indif- ferent, is as great a ratio as can possibly be conceded. This fourth part, or twelve in the forty-eight, are expunged by the Attorney-General, who is furnished with all the means and in- struments of detection: so that twenty-four are left, whose devotion, generally speaking, to his sentiments is absolutely certain." « Defence," p. 21.
Lord Lyttelton, in " A Letter to a Member of Parha. ment," speaking of such a method of choosing special juries, expresses an opinion similar to Mr. Wakefield's:
*' In criminal cases, this is still more dangerous, because the power of the crown may be exerted in the prosecution, and the question to be tried is the imprisonment and punish- ment of a freeman. If the Master of the Crown-Office, or his Deputy, should be ever under any influence, he may name twelve of the defendant's friends to cover his purpose, and thirty-six of those who are most prejudiced against him upon reasons of party, or other causes, if he can find so many in the county ; and as the solicitor for the crown would strike off the former, the defendant must be tried from a jury among the latter."
" Lord Lyttelton's Works," 1774. 4to. p. ys.
1 " The information states, that I, being a seditious, mali- cious, and ill-disposed person, have written so and so: not, that I did write so and so, and therefore am that person. My seditiousness and malice and ill-disposition are presunied^, as
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 135
iieoiis;" — " from the circumstances of publi- cation, the spirit of the pamphlet, and his own manners, occupations, and modes of hfe.'"
Having enlarged upon these topics, his de- fence he thus concludes :
" We live, gentlemen! in the midst of per- turbations and suspicions, most singular and unexampled. Former days, in other countries, and in these respects, were far better than our own. Aristotle, in his book on politics, makes no secret of a predilection for republican go- vernment, in competition Avitli monarchical', not apprehensive that Alexander, like the un- bookish bigots M'ho are molesting me, would take offence at the speculations of his precep-
manifestly existing and undeniably notorious; not inferred by conclusion from a fact demojistrated. He, who denies thi« statement, may be, for aught I know, very learned in the law, but is an absolute ignoramus in the sense and construction oi his native langviage/'
" Defence," p. 2/. See the account of AJr. Justice Grose's Address, infra.
"■ Defence, p. 28. In support of the last species of evi- dence, Mr. Wakefield had at one time determined to summon upon his trial several persons of high rank, chiefly ecclesias tics, " in general old associates, and intimately acquainted •with his manners and dispositions." From these he had no doubt of drawing a testimony in favour of his integrity, how- ever different from his own the political opinions and present connexions of the greater part of them. This design he after- wards abandoned. See Appendix,
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tor; nor have I read in the monuments of at- tic genius, that the Macedonian Attorney- General filed an information against the phi- losopher of Stagira. Nay, even the reign of our second Charles was- more liberal than this, JoHx MiLTOx, an angel of eloquence, a pro- phet of liberty, and a saint in life, after a bold apology for the father's murderers, and the bitterest invectives against kings and kingly government, was generously permitted by the unresentful son to close the evening of his days in the calm sun-shine of peace and glory. " Gentlemen ! I have demeaned myself through life from deliberate principle by the standard of the scriptures, the perpetual sub- ject of my studies, as uniformly and punctually as most men. I have so demeaned myself in the transaction, which now awaits your verdict. Grant, that I be deluded in my judgment, and mistaken in my purpose; these persecutions are not the proper methods of enforcing truth, or refuting error, or reforming manners. I contemplate M'ith a mixture of indignation and sorrow, of compassion and abhorrence, that unhappy creature who delights in tormenting his fellow-men for the operations of intellect and the free communication of opinion : a practice not less ignorant and irrational than intolerant and unchristian. I look down upon
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 137
such a man, be his sation what it v/ill, with sentiments of inexpressible superiority; as a civiHsed being, as a votary of letters, as a dis- ciple of UNIVERSAL LOVE, looks dowu on a pervcrter of religion, a museless worldling, and a stranger to humanity.
" Gentlemen ! ye may live long, ye may be concerned hereafter in many transactions of importance; but ye never can* be implicated as ye are this moment. Respect not my safety or convenience, but the liberties and happiness of your countrymen, your own probity, and' the approbation of your consciences. Suffer not the present impression to be dissipated from your minds by sophistry and calumnies, which I could easily refute, M'hen compelled to be silent. Consider, whether your hours of solitude and darkness and decaying nature will be cheered and brightened and supported by congratulating yourselves on your equity, your tenderness, your charitable judgment, in con- signing such an one as me to the inexorable cruelties of law and the gloomy horrors of a prison. For myself, I tell you freel}^, no sen- tence of this court, or any other terrestrial tribunal, no malice of an illiberal accuser, no persecutions, no fines, no imprisonments, shall tear from my breast the glorious consolations of this day; the glory of resisting and ex-
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posing a system, as I esteem it, of irrcligion, venality, and murder, at the hazard of all per- sonal convenience, with resolution unshaken and integrity unseduced. I could go out, I trust, from this court, with complacency and exultation, even to the scaffold, in the cause of humanity and the gospel, of civil freedom^ and its associate, civil happiness, in opposition to all the malignity of their mercenary and depraved adversaries: so that the worst, which can befall me, will come upon a soul prepared to endure and triumph. But, for you, the al- ternative is pre-eminently formidable; and will affect your comforts beyond the horizon of time and place, beyond the precincts of this short existence, through a boundless succes- sion of eternal ages. If ye condemn me, with a shadow of uncertainty upon your minds, with a single step on this side an indubitable conviction of my guilt, such condemnation precludes all forgiveness of your own great and manifold offences; a forgiveness, which ye supplicate at the throne of Supernal Mercy, by that measure, which ye have mea- sured to your brethren: but to pronounce against me, when I am clearly innocent, no 7naliciou6\ seditious, and ill-disposed person, as stated in the informatio)2, were a sin of trans- cendent heinousness; and, whctlicr committed
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 139
hy you, the umpires of this cause, — by him, my prosecutor, — or by my advocate, the cAw^/ge upon the bench, — will not finally pass unpunished by that omnipotent Avenger of iniquity, who is no respecter of persons, and rewardeth every man according to his zvork!""
It might have been supposed that a jur}' who heard this address would not have been deficient in any of those customary forms of deliberation, which carry with them, at least, a semblance of impartiality. Mr. V/akefield had said to them, " Whatever your determi- nation may be, it is a debt of reason both to me, to your country, and to yourselves, that ye return a verdict free from all imputation of inconsiderate precipitancy." ' Yet, after a short reply from the Attorney-General, and a few words from the Lord Chief Justice, who presided throughout these trials, they hastened to deliver their verdict o^ guilty, without going out of court to deliberate, or even looking at the pamphlet.
Upon this, bail was immediately tendered by two of the defendant's friends, and accepted by the court; the Attorney-General readily assenting to the accommodation.
Mr. Wakefield was accompanied, upon this occasion, by many of his intimate acquaint-
5 'i Defence," p. 42.
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ance, who were affectionately concerned on his account. A crowded court listened to him (a few excepted behind the bar) with the most respectful tokens of sympathy for his situation. " As to the jury, who spared themselves the trouble of even readino- the pamphlet, and of comparing the general purpose with the passages selected by the ac- cuser," he imputes to them " gross inatten- tion," and describes them as " yawning and betraying every symptom of impatience and disregard."
The " Defence," to which we have so often referred, he printed during his imprison- ment in the King's Bench, for the gratification of his friends. The close of his short preface will shew how much he was consoled and sup- ported by their attachment.
" This defence, hoM'ever disapproved by the licentious and worldly-minded, neither ac- customed to the purifying speculations nor warmed by the generous energies of abstract truth, will be regarded by my friends, I hope, as an exertion suitable to the uniform tenour of my character: their approbation will abun- dantly counterbalance all inconvenient con- sequences, and alleviate any punishment, which the deluded zeal or irritated malice of my per- secutors may inflict upon me. I recollect what
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. l-li
has been the lot of better men than myself in all ao-es of the world: and that fraternal soli- citnde of affection, so plentifully and strikingly manifested in my behalf, has rendered this trial the most consoling, the most exhilarating, and the most triumphant transaction of my life."
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CHAP. VIL
Mr. IFakefield called up for Judgment— His Address to the Judges— Commitment to the Kings Bench Prison — Brought up to thf. Court for Sentejice — Address from Mr. Justice Grose — Sentence — Generous Testimony of At- tachment from his Friends and the Public.
^799.
After a few weeks passed by Mr. Wake- field in the enjoyment of his family and friends, the duty of moving the court for judgment was not forgotten by his prosecutor. He Avas accordingly cited to appear at Westminster on April the 18th, when he addressed the Judges of the court, in a speech prepared for the oc- casion.
The leading topics of this address are un- doubtedly widely different from those gene- rally delivered in a court of justice. Of this he was as fully aware as any of his audience could possibly be; and it should be remem- bered that the mitigation of punishment, the usual design of such addresses, and which he by no means overlooked, could not, in his circum-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, 143
stances, be a principal object. He knew too well the complexion of the times. Nor could he so soon forget what invectives the minis- try, and especially the Attorney-General, in his capacity of a senator, had poured out upon him when his case, previous to his trial, was acci- dentally mentioned in the House of Commons. Thus the expectations of influencing the deter- mination of his sentence by any pleas which he could oifer, were small indeed. His chief de- sign now was, to seize an opportunity of avow- ing his sincere and matured opinion on public questions of high importance, in a moral, if not in a political view.
The singularity of the subjects thus brought forward, not unnaturally, excited the surprise of many in the court. Yet it might surely have been expected that the address of an emi- nent scholar, delivered in circumstances so interesting, would have been heard by persons of liberal education with respectful attention. This was far from being the case as to some of the junior counsel, who took no pains to conceal their impatience.
Notwithstanding every discouragement, he kept in view the favourite maxim of his friend Dr. Jebb, that " tio effort is lost/' The pros- pect, though distant, of exciting the attention of his countrymen to what he esteemed glar-
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ing defects in our institutions, ho\ve\er they miglit be sanctioned by time, was more than sufficient to animate his exertions, and readily superseded all considerations of iuferior mo- ment. Whatever difference of opinion may be entertained respecting the importance and utility of his observations, his sincerity in de- livering them, under such circumstances, can scarcely be called in question.
In this " Address to the Judges," Mr. Wakefield points out the distinction between " a case of active violence, or positive hos- tility," and " opinions and exertions of intel- lect in written appeals to the understandings of men, who call themselves free, where actual violence is not only not exerted, but dis- couraged and condemned in explicit language."' He then argues, at some length, against " a position to the following purport, in a pam- phlet published in vindication of the bridewell of Cold-Bath-Fields, as the basis of the penal regulations in that place — Punishment and re- straint must he employed, until the mind of the prisoner is subdued:'' whicli language he con- siders as implying " a supposition of melior- ation to the dispositions of an offender by a system of severity — an expectation that re- pentance and reformation may be forced on
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 145
the mind through violence and rigour. Now it appears to me," he adds, " most indubit- able, from every principle of reason, and every deduction of experience, that effects of a nature extremely different must unavoidably take place from harshness and austerity: namely, exasperation and obduracy on the part of a person thus treated ; not without a gradual extinction, in the punisher, of all those charities and sensibilities, which alone redeem our natures from a degradation below the savageness of mere brutality. "
But there was one part of this Address which appeared to excite peculiar surprise, and would, no doubt, by the generality of the court, be regarded as highly extravagant. Mr. Wakefield, whose abhorrence of capital punishments has been already noticed,' de- clared his opinion that " even a murderer," instead of being cut off by the executioner, ought rather to be subjected to a humane dis- cipline, till he should become reformed by the gradual but almost certain process of expostu- lation and restraint. In this notion, however generally exploded, he is not entirely singu- lar. It has been supported on the grounds of Christian benevolence and political expe-
' See "Mem," i. 309—318. VOL. II. L
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diency. If we are not much mistaken the ce- lebrated criminal code of the Duke of Tuscany excluded capital punishment, ev^en in the case of murder.
For opinions so remote from the common sentiment, as well as for his free animadver- sions on public men and measures, Mr. Wake- field considered that he was fairly entitled, in such a place, to plead the precepts and examples of Christ and his Apostles. He was not ad- dressing an assembly o^ heathen magistrates, but a court of judicature composed entirely of professed Christians. He had been taught too from high authority that " Christianity is part of the laws of England,"" and upon this principle indeed the publication of deistical writings is treated as a crime.
He next recalled to the memories of his audience " some examples of true wisdom and magnanimity in princes of ancient and modern times" to shew " the security and unconcern of good governments at the censures of mali- cious, disingenuous or mistaken writers;" and vindicated his " own conduct from the prac- tice of satirists in all ages, and under every form of government, despotical and free."^
u " Blackstone," b. xiv. ch. 4. t As this address belongs to so important a period of the author's life, and contains many valuable renrarks, we shall
"gilbert WAKEFIELD. 147
After some pleas which attachment to his family urged him to offer, and some consider- ations pecuHar to himself, his address con- cludes with an animated appeal for the " pu- rit}^ of his intentions, and the intrinsic meri- toriousness of his conduct," to a tribunal where
"■ Names of awe
And distance here, shall rank with comnaon men." y
Instead of receiving sentence, as he ex- pected, he was immediately committed to the custody of a tipstaff to be conveyed to the King's Bench Prison, and brought up again in the followino; term.
To his place of confinement he was at- tended by one of the present write-rs and another friend, Avhose solicitude on his account he relieved by his usual pleasantry. On ar- riving at the prison, the tipstaff, who behaved Mith great civility, fulfilled his duty by de- livering up his charge at the gates.
It presently appeared that no more atten- tion is paid to the accommodation of a pri-
give it at large in the Appendix. It was printed with the De- fence merely for the gratification of his private friends. Only a few copies were ever circulated.
y Young.
2
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soner, when first brought within these dreary walls, than if he were an animal of an inferior order, confined for security in a pound. The miserable victim of the law acquires, indeed, by long residence, a right to an apartment on the payment of a small rent. Of this the more destitute avail themselves by crowding into one room, and letting the rest for a con- siderable profit.
To such a resource the marshal, on an application from two of his friends, now re- ferred Mr. Wakefield, as the only plan he could suggest. But the prison was at that time so thronged that even one of these apartments, after several hours spent in the enquiry, could not by any means be procured. Thus he had no alternative but to pass the night without shelter from the inclemency of the weather, or to become, as he describes it, " the asso- ciate of vice, vulgarity, and wretchedness in the extreme," by remaining in the common tap-room.
In this emergency it was deemed advisable to bring before the marshal an argument of more xveight, and influence, than merely the cruel embarrassment to which a scholar and a gentleman was thus exposed. Upon offering him his own terms, through the medium of one of Mr. Wakefield's friends, with whom he hap-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 149
pened to be personally acquainted, an order was procured, the same night, for the use of a room usually occupied by one of the inferior officers of the prison. Although this room (as might naturally be expected) was meanly fitted up, and the furniture entirely provided by himself, for the use of it for less than eight weeks, the marshal had the moderation to demand of Mr. Wakefield " Fifty Pounds arid a copy of his quarto Lucretius.''' With the former part of this demand he immediately complied ; the latter, by the advice of his friends, was very properly disregarded.
We have ventured to Enlarge upon the cir- cumstances which attended our friend's com- mitment to the prison of the King's Bench, because they passed under our own observa- tion. They appear to prove too clearly a sad deficiency of wise and equitable regulations, or, if there are any such, with regard to the ma- nagement of this place, that they are strangely neglected. In the present instance there must have been somewhere a total absence of decent consideration, if not of common justice. Mr. Wakefield was ordered to be detained till the Judges should determine what punishment, if any, he had deserved. Security of his person then was the sole object of this commitment. Yet, as to any accommodations provided by the
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court in his behalf, he was left to perish within their walls, for want even of those moderate comforts to which the habits of his life had inured ?iim.
As soon as Mr. Wakefield was lodged in the King's Bench Prison, he procured a few vo- lumes from his library, and pursued his studies, so far as a scarcity of books and an attention to his numerous visitors would permit. Be- sides an almost daily association with his in- timate friends, he was now resorted to by many with whom he had no previous personal acquaintance. But they knew him by his writings, and had formed a high respect for his character. Some of these were distin- guished in public life by their rank and ta- lents. We cannot forbear to mention the names of the late lamented Duke of Bedford, Mr. Fox, and Lord Holland. With Mr. Fox he had for some time past maintained a cor- respondence upon subjects of ancient litera- ture.
The countenance thus given to him by eminent public characters, the assiduities of his personal friends, and especially the fond and dutiful attentions of his family, together with the resources derived from his own stu- dious habits, notwithstanding the gloom and
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 151
restraints of a prison, would not suffer his hours at the King's Bench to pass altogether disagreeably. Indeed, there is some reason to apprehend that in the opinion of his Judges, and probably of his prosecutor, that situation seemed likely to supply too many alleviating circumstances to suit their ideas of a due se- verity of punishment for such an enormous of- fence as the Attorney-General had imputed to Mr. Wakefield. At least the subsequent deci- sion of the court very naturally encouraged such a supposition. It could scarcely be de- siirned as a favour that he should be doomed to pass a long imprisonment far from the resi-' dence of his relations and friends, and where he had not, and might reasonably be supposed not to have, a single connexion.
Whatever were the deliberations of the court on Mr. Wakefield's case, or their designs respecting him, he was again brought before them on May 30th, to receive sentence. His intention of making a short address was pre- vented by the haste wnth which Mr. Justice Grose, the senior puisne judge, began his very elahorate oration.
Considering the person to whom it was addressed, this must be regarded as a most curious moral lecture, and brings to our re-
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membrance that kind instructor in ancient story, who seized an opportunity that might never again occur, of teaching Hannibal the art of war. Perhaps the reputation of the worthy magistrate would have lost nothing had his " sober wishes" upon this occasion never ventured " to stray" beyond the range of statutes and reports.
Mr. Justice Grose compliments the elo- quence of those who had preceded him in their animadversions on the prosecuted pamphlet, and fears lest he should weaken its effects by any additions of his own. Yet he certainly goes beyond the Attorney-General in his im- putations of criminality. This gentleman, Achate ver high-sounding phrases he might occasionally employ, still . confined his serious charges to a legal offence. It was reserved for the penetration of Mr. Justice Grose to discover that a man who from his youth had been continually sacrificing his interest at the command of his integrity (to an extent (5f which, probably, his reprover could not even form an idea) was, after all, a man of artifice^ affecting " to enforce peace and good-Mall for pitiful purposes ;" and one who could not *' possibly be sincere in his professions." To adopt Mr. Wakefield's own words, when speak-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 153
ing of this accusation, it implied that he was " a pretended behever in Christianity, and an artful hypocrite."'
Upon this transaction we take the liberty to remark that, either Mr. Justice Grose was acquainted with such circumstances in the life and conduct of the defendant as would enable him to falsify the numerous evidences of inte- grity, which the foregoing pages of his me- moirs have supplied, or that he hazarded im- putations without proof, and indulged himself in a severity of censure far beyond what was requisite in delivering the judgment of the court. A highly respected nobleman, to whom Mr. Wakefield was intimately known for many years, having occasion to speak of him to one of the present writers, observed, respecting his treatment in the court, that the Judo-e might with some plausibility have attributed to him a want of prudence, but that when he charged him with hypocrisy he betrayed an utter ignorance of the character before him.
Mr. Justice Grose, in perfect conformity with his chariiabie construction of the de- fendant's conduct, concluded his harangue with the pious M'ish that the " hours of his imprisonment might produce contrition and sincere repentance!!" having first delivered
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the following sentence, which he represented as very lenient:
" The court taking into their considera- tion all the circumstances of your case, doth order and adjudge, that for this oifence, "You be imprisoned in his Majesty's jail of Dorches- ter, for the county of Dorset, for the space of two years, and that you give security for your good behaviour for the terrii of five years, to be computed from the expiration of that term, yourself in the sum of 5001. with two sufficient sureties in 2501. each, and that you be farther imprisoned till such sureties be given."
Mr. Wakefield immediately returned to the prison in custody of the tipstaff. We had the painful duty of accompanying our friend upon this occasion. His firm and manly cheerful- ness was strikingly contrasted with that regret and anxiety which it was impossible not to feel, and which we found it so difficult to dis- guise. He was even facetious and jocose, till he came within sight of the prison, where he well knew that his wife and daughters were expecting his arrival in trembling solicitude. He now ap])eared almost overpowered by his sympathy for their situation, and said to his companions " this is the great trial." Such
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 155
indeed it proved. The scene of agitation and distress which immediately foUov.ed we will not attempt to describe.
The sorrow and concern excited by this sentence, which removed Mr. Wakefield to so great a distance, were not confined to his fa- mily and friends. It was felt even by the at- tendants and many of the prisoners in the King's Bench. In their minds his affable de- portment and uniform readiness to oblige and befriend had excited considerable -interest and respect.
It now occurred to one of Mr. Wakefield's friends, that the present opportunity of im- proving his slender fortune, in some permanent manner, ought not to be neglected, while the severity of his sentence was fresh in recol- lection.
The design was immediately adopted by two or three other friends. Nor had they rea- son to complain of the want of generous sup- port. They encountered, indeed, in a few instances, the discouragement of a refusal, where they had promised themselves the most prompt and liberal assistance. These disap- pointments were amply compensated by the zeal and readiness which other opulent persons discovered to indulge their generous feelings
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upon this occasion. Many also, in humbler life eagerly profferred their contributions, the honourable fruits of oecononi}^ and self-denial.
It was intended, if possible, to keep this design from the knowledge of Mr. Wakefield till it should be completed. However, before he had any intimation of it nea.r\y Jif teen hun" dred pounds was raised, and in the sequel the subscription amounted to more than double that sum. With the addition of two munifi- cent tokens of regard, chiefly, if not entirely, presented to him on the same account, he re- ceived about five thouscmd pounds. For this increase of fortune he pleasantly says that he was " indebted to Sir John Scott." That such was the intention of that gentleman, in origin- ating this prosecution, is more than we can venture to assert.
We have mentioned that persons of dif- ferent ranks encouraged this design. Among the rest, a great political character, v.hom we have lately named- as honouring our friend with his correspondence, was not deficient in his attentions. Immediately after the sen- tence, he interested himself so far as to write to Mr. Wakefield to suggest the propriety of his publishing some work by subscription for the benefit of himself and his family. As soon as he heard that his kind purpose had been
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 157
anticipated, he promoted this object as far as lay in his power. Besides other persons of rank, one especially, the late Duke of Bedford, from whose merit even party-animosity has now ceased to detract, countenanced this pro- ject in a very handsome manner. A letter having been addressed to him by the friend of Mr. Wakefield, who was entrusted with the conduct of the subscription, he immediately sent the following reply :
Bedford House, June 27, 1799. SIR,
I HEARD but a few days ago of the subscription for Mr. Wakefield, and have since been endeavouring to find out to whom I should address myself on the subject. I am happy to find it is likely to be attended with so much success.
I have added a draft on my banker [for one hundred pounds] the amount of which you will have the goodness to appropriate to your very laudable design.
I am. Sir, Your very obedient servant,
Bedford.
We have already noticed the attachment born to Mr. Wakefield by those who had been
153 LIFE OF
liis pupils. They Avere forward to testify it upon the present occasion. Among several letters received from gentlemen who had the good fortune to enjoy that advantage, we se- lect one M'hich expresses the sentiments com- mon to them all. It also well describes the leading object of the subscription.
Mr. Wakefield had long experienced how little a scholar, independent and unpatronised, could contribute to the support of a family. This handsome addition to his fortune, there- fore, afforded him a high gratification. He was enabled, by his own sufferings, to benefit those whose interest was so dear to him. *' A consummation devoutly to be wished," we fear, rather than generally expected, in all similar cases.
The letter which we have just mentioned was from a gentleman in a distant part of the country, mIio liad been one of Mr. Wakefield's pupils at Warrington. Their personal inter- course had been interrupted by distance of residence for manv years. But his attach- ment to the tutor of his youth was unabated. He enclosed his liberal present of one hundred pounds in the following letter:
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. , 159
, June 11, 1799.
SIR,
You have done me a favour by com- inunicatino; to me the intention of Mr. Wake- field's friends to raise a sum of money for the assistance of his family ; and I have much pleasure in co-operating with yourself, and the other gentlemen who interest themselves in this laudable design, in the endeavour to shield him from the effects of a ministerial persecution, in that quarter where he will most sensibly, if not solely, feel its weight.
I send you the enclosed draft (which, I have reason to believe, will not be the oiily subscription from this neighbourhood) as a tribute of respect to Mr. Wakefield, for whom I entertain the highest regard, as my much esteemed tutor; and whom I consider as the victim of oppression for his independent exer- tions for the promotion of general liberty and free enquiry.
I shall esteem myself much obliged to you, Sir, if you will take the fii'st opportunity of conveying to Mr. Wakefield, through the medium of Mrs. W, the sentiments of sym- pathy with which I am impressed on his ac- count, to":ether with mv sincere wishes for
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the future welfare of himself, and his amiable family.
I am, Sir, respectfully.
Your obedient servant.
But a subscription from a few persons in his native town was not the least valuable in- stance of attachment to Mr. Wakefield. He had at different periods of his life resided at Nottingham, but had now left it nearly ten years. His relations in that place, and else- where, befriended him in every mode which their affection could devise. But they had no share in this testimony of esteem, which a few of his former associates conveyed in these re- spectful terms:
Nottingham, Feb. 14, 1800.
Wishing to succour the good man in whatever way distress may invade him, and in honour to great literary talents, constantly devoted to the interests of truth and virtue, a few friends, without adverting to any political consideration, subscribe one hundred guineas, to be respectfully presented to the Rev. Gil- bert Wakefield.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. l6l
111 this manner was the design completed, to the high gratification of all who promoted it.' ]\Iuch larger subscriptions liave been raised, but these have usually been for public men, and conducted in a public manner. In the present instance the management of the business Avas left to a few private individuals. No assistance was derived from the public prints. On the contrary, those in the interest of the then administration used their best en- deavours to frustrate the design. " The True Briton" especially, at that time regarded as the organ of Mr. Pitt, in the paper of July g, 1799, after representing the subscription, for an obvious purpose, as amounting to double the sum then contributed, proceeds to impeach the principles of those who promoted it. But these attempts happily failed, and the sentiment of the immortal bard, who also fell on '* evil days and evil tongues," was strikingly illus- trated.
" Virtue may be assail'd, but never hurt, Surpriz d by unjust force, but not inthrall'dj Yea, even that which mischief meant most harm. Shall in the happy trial prove most glory." ^
^ " Comus."
VOL. n. M
162 Life of
CHAP. VIII.
Mr. WakeJieLd's Removal to Dorchester Gaol, and Circum.' stances connected with his Imprisonment.
1799-
The time was now fixed for Mr. Wakefield's removal from the King's Bench Prison to Dor- chester gaol. He was permitted, previously to his confinement at so great a distance, to pass a day with his family at Hackney, for the purpose of arranging some domestic affairs. Accordingly, early in the morning of Sunday, the l6thof June, he quitted the Kings Bench, accompanied by one of the present writers, and in the custody of a tipstaff. Contrary to the general expectation of his friends, the time passed in that prison was not deducted from the two years imprisonment, to which he was sentenced, though, as we had occasion to no- tice before, he was kindly assured in the very homely address of Mr. Justice Grose, that he suffered a lenient punishment for so great an offence !
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 163
*.
It was the wish of Mr. Wakefield that his unexpected visit to Hackney should not be generally known, to avoid the possibility of offending those to whom he was indebted for this indulgence. Plis numerous friends, how- ever, hearins: that he was in their ncio-hbour- hood, embraced this last opportunity of tes- tifying their respect. They were anxious to take an affectionate farewell of one, the pros- - pect of whose long absence they deeply regretted on their own account, while they sympathised in his sufferings, and those of his family.
On the following morning he quitted Hack- ney in the custody of the tipstaff, (whose uni- form civility he frequently mentioned) accom- panied also by his eldest daughter, who con- tributed not a little to relieve the irksome- ness of such a journey. Upon their arrival, on the next afternoon, at Dorchester, he was committed to the gaol, where two of his brothers had previously procured for him the best accommodations which the place could afford,
' Under the present circumstances, the exor- bitant terms ^ to which they submitted would
* Mr. Wakefield's brothers agreed with the gaoler, that on condition of the sum of one hundred pounds a year being paid o
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have been disregarded, had the behaviour of the gaoler and his family eventually corre- sponded with the assurances given on this oc- casion.
Mr. Wakefield was now determined to re- concile his mind to his new situation, under all its disadvantages, and could even speak of it with his accustomed pleasantry. The fol- lowins: is an extract from a letter to one of the present writers.
Dorchester Gaol, June 22, 1799.
" This place will probably become very comfortable in no long time; so that we must regard it as no more than a temporary banish- ment, till we shall have lost some unaccommo- dating peculiarities, which rendered our so- ciety less agreeable, and which may be reason- ably expected to be so worn off by a revolution of two years, as to render us on our return more worthy of those advantages of friendly
by their brother, he should be provided, at his table, with board, and have the use of a room in his house. For similar accommodations anywhere but in a prison, such a sum would unquestionably be deemed extravagant, considering that Mr. Wakefield seldom tasted animal food, and was to provide himself with wine, had he used any.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 1^5
converse which \v(i might have enjoyed, and hope hereafter to enjoy, at Hackney."
Writing to another friend about the same time, he says,
'' This separation, I hope, will only contri- bute to a more bhssful enjoyment of those as- sociations, which are now suspended, if the termination of our exile still find us in the land of the living."
As soon as domestic arrangements would permit, Mr. Wakefield's family folloAved him to Dorchester, desirous of relieving by all the assiduities of affection, that intrusion of ta^dium and melancholy, against which, within the re- cesses of a prison, Philosophy herself, even when supported by Christianity, is not always sufficiently secure.
The arrival of his family, he mentions in the following letter:
Dorchester Gaol^ June 30, ] 79g, MY DEAR Sll{,
The books and packages all arrived safe, nearly at the time specified, as did Mrs. Wakefield, and the rest of the family, on Tues- day night. She was all but overcome by her severe, and multifarious trials at leaving Hack-
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ney, and her first introduction here. Indeed, the variety of strange and affecting events, with which she was encompassed, ahiiost op- pressed her, especially the sight of this place, whose appearance is formidable to a strano-er beyond what the reality will w^arrant. There is a profusion of barred windows in the house, as well as the prison; but as /see no other habitation, nothing needs hinder me from con- sidering these iron barricades as a style of ornamental architecture peculiar to the fancies of this country.
We hope at the assizes, when an assemblage of the magistrates shall take place, to accom- plish our project of residing nnder the same roof, though the terms, I apprehend, will be, for such accommodations, sufficiently extrava- gant. In truth, no provision has been made in these institutions for the conduct of anv but felons and debtors, in neither of which classes, even teclmkallij, can I be ranked : so that a full discretion resides with the ruling people here, without any infringement of their esta- blished polity. Should insurmountable ob- stacles present themselves to our purpose, my stay here will be uncomfortable to the end.
Two books, particularly marked, are not come, Mattaire's Corpus Poet. Lat. 2 vols, folio ; but I shall not wish for them at present,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 167
as some others may come into my mind, and contribute to form a parcel.
I sliall write to , I trust, to- morrow; and perhaps to at the same
time; then I shall nearly have rounded the circle of peculiar friends by my correspondence in this way.
Where a continuance of writing is required, not occasional snatches, as in Avriting notes, amidst a perpetual recurrence of suspension in consulting books, my left arm'' so imperceptibly sympathizes with the motions of its fellow, as to suffer physical inconvenience, against which I sedulously endeavour to protect myself on all occasions.
Yet I have written about fifty letters since I came hither. An indisposition to other ap- plications has rendered this less irksome than heretofore, in union with so loud and distinct a call of duty. Nor is it the least pleasing reflection to my mind, that those, whom I am bound to love by their personal interest in my welfare, are such as I must have loved, inde- pendently of all peculiar connection with my- self, for their own virtues, had I not been cal- lous to those sensations, which genuine worth is calculated to excite in every ingenuous and honourable mind.
^ See Mem. I. 2/7, and Appendix, Letter LXVII.
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Our kindest respects and best M'ishes, as at all times, await your family.
Yours, ever most truly,
Gilbert Wakefield.
The expectations which he had formed of his family being permitted to reside in the prison, were disappointed. By the following- passage of a letter, he appears to have fore- boded the unfavourable result of his appli- cation :
" It will be determined this day [July 17] at tlie Sessions, in Shaftsbury, whether we are to live together: but I perceive in some of the justices (who are mostly ill-educated men) a disposition to unnecessary vexation, and have therefore abandoned all hopes of accomplish- ing this purpose; so that better lodgings in the town must be provided for my family, as I shall not be able to persuade their return to Hackney, \vhicli I should prefer; as I was al- ways inclined to love an absence of a comfort to an imperfect enjoyment of it, for many reasons that I could assio-n."
His apprehensions, as to the determina- tion of the magistrates at the sessions, Avere soon confirmed. Though they thought proper to refuse his request, it could hardly have been expected that any of those gentlemen
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 169
would have interposed to forbid tlie daily visits of his family. That privilege would have been granted without any difficulty, had he even been committed to the gaol of New- gate. This restraint is a principal subject of the following letter to one of the present Avriters, M'ho was about to make him a visit:
Dorchester Gaol, Sept. 1, 17QQ. MY DEAR SIR,
The time, which you mention, of com- ing to see us, will be very suitable. My family are ordered by the justices to see me only four times a week, from ten to six: no orders have been given about my friends; but, as all that passes is knoM-n, and these people are, in ge- neral, of an illiberal cast, and would do any thing to recommend their ofificiousness to their superiors, I am fearful that too great freedom on my part may lead to restrictions respecting them also.
You may come four days in the week, and stay with me from twelve to three; and on the other three days, you may stay from half past three to six. I do not sa}^ that you might not stay longer; but this is safc;, and will perhaps answer every purpose of our communication.
left us on Fridav. He is verv
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desirous that I should undertake some work; but ahnost every thing is impracticable liere, without all my books, which I shall never re- move; and, indeed, I have got some, which I wish at Hacknev, and which came with a view to my Lexicon ; an arduous work, to be exe- cuted hereafter, as far as it rests with me, if I survive this period.
I have been made very uneas}- by a report from Hackney, that my Barnes's Euripides, ii vols. 4to. by Beck, could not be found: but I trust they are mistaken. I had them with me at the King's Bench, and cannot conceive how they can be lost. The loss of any of those books, in which there are my marginal notes, the result of manv irretrievable hours, would give me more uneasiness than all the circum- stances of the prosecution put together.
Our people are at their house; I have seen none of them this day. My affectionate re- membrance to your brothers. In hopes of a speedy interview,
I remain yours as e\er, most truly,
Gilbert Wakefield.
On the refusal of the magistrates to allow their residence in the prison, his family had procured a house near to the gaol, that they might make full use of the permission to
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 171
go there as often as they chose. That any evil could result from such a liberty can scarcely be supposed. Yet, in this case, it soon appeared that
" man, proud man,"
** Drest in a little brief authority,"
could not resist the occasion of displaying his power over those who had no means of oppo- sition. This privilege, after the enjoyment of it for a few weeks, was suddenly denied to Mrs. Wakefield, and her children. The order to M'hich Mr. Wakefield has referred, was issued by the mqjoiHty of the magistrates, among whom there were a few very honourable exceptions. This restraint continued to the end of his im- prisonment.
Such a harsh, and seemingly unnecessary exercise of authority, could not have been ex- pected from men whose minds M'ere endued M'ith the common feelings of humanity. The magistrates, however, who made this order, are reputed to be gentlemen of great respec- tability of character. What is still more ex- traordinary, they are themselves husbands and fathers, and on that account better qualified to estimate the painful consequences which would inevitably result, and which, it may be
J72 LIFE OF
reasonably presumed, they intended should result, from such a measure.
We are utterly at a loss to, conjecture by what principles these gentlemen were guided in thus abridging the comforts of a virtuous and affectionate family, who, after every alle- viation of their misfortunes, must still have been subject to many privations. Indeed, the conduct of the mau;istrates, upon this occasion, which it is our duty to record, can scarcely be resolved into any thing but the influence of party-zeal and political prejudice, the baneful effects of which in checking all the generous propensities of the heart are so frequent and so deplorable.
The restraint thus imposed M^as a serious injury to Mr. Wakefield. It deprived him, in a considerable degree, of domestic society, the chief source of his happiness, and his prin- cipal relaxation from a laborious application to his studies. He lamented also that the education of his daughters, which he super- intended himself, would materially suffer by their entire separation for three days in the week.
To them he devoted a part of each of those days on Avhich his family Avere permitted to
GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
i/j
visit the prison. Witliout losing sight of his favorite object, the ehicidation of the sciip- tures, he also read with them several valuable works, both ancient and modern. For, on the subject of education, he had long entertained sentiments very different from those generally adopted. As no one had a greater respect for the female character, so none thought more highly of the powers of the female under- standing. In his opinion, with similar advan- tages of cultivation, it might rival the attain- ments of the most accomplished of the other sex.
In the present circumstances, he judged it best to place his sons at school. The eldest of the two who were at Dorchester, was sent to the Grammar School in that town under the Rev. Mr. Richmond, from whom Mr. Wakefield received many civilities.
For the care and education of his second son, during the whole term of his own impri- sonment, he was indebted to the friendship of the Rev. Mr. Shepherd, of Gateacre, near Li- verpool, well known, to the literary world b\' his " Life of Poggio Bracciolini." That gentleman, at the commencement of the fa- ther's troubles, kindly insisted on takins; clmroe of the son in his own family; declinino- everv
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compensation but tlie indulgence of his liberal feelings.
Thougli reluctant to impose such a burden, Mr. Wakefield could not decline an offer pressed upon him uith a zeal of friendship, which derives additional value from the con- sideration of their comparatively^ short ac- quaintance.
For the hberty Me have used of intro- ducin"" this circumstance, without solicitins" Mr. Shepherd's consent, wg cannot oifer a better apology than the sentiment of a great moralist, that " it is a loss to mankind when any good action is forgotten." "
To a mind of Mr. Wakefield's vigorous cast, nothing could be less supportable than inac- tivity. Soon after his arrival at Dorchester he resumed his application to his studies, which had been so long interrupted, a's v/ell by the tedious expectation of his trial, as by the cares and embarrassments with which that event was attended.
The supply of books which he could con- veniently ■ remove from Hackney was neces- sarily very small, and by no means sufficient
*^ Life of Savage.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. i;5
to ena])le him to execute many classical and other works, whicli he had, for some time past, projected. This was to him, as it will long- be to every lover of literature, a subject of mortification and regret. He thus laments it in one of his letters :
" The want of my library is an insupport- able inconvenience to me, and occasions such frequent mortification as very much retards my industry, and checks my vigour."
His imprisonment was soon very agree-, ably enlivened by the occasional visits of several gentlemen in the town and neigh- bourhood. Two in particular, Mr. Fisher and J\Ir. Jeffries, claim everv acknowleda:- ment of respect for their steady attach- ment, evinced by numberless acts of kind- ness to Mr. Wakefield and his family, through- out the whole period of his imprison- ment.
The relief afforded by these friendly asso- ciations could not preserve him from oc- casional dejection. He saw himself sur- rounded by objects whose wretchedness might have excited commiseration in the coldest breast. The impression of such scenes upon a
170 LIFE OF
mind of his sensibility was not a little dis- tressing. He used frequently to remark that a constant eye-witness alone, could think ^t possible that so much unhappiness should ex,ist5 as every day presented itself to his observa- tion. In the sufferings of the prisoners in general, he took a lively and even affectionate interest, supplying many of their wants, and shewing, by every means in his power, how anxious he was to mitigate, their distress.
In a letter dated but a very few days after his arrival, he thus interposed for tiie relief of a debtor, and, after some exertions in his be- half, he had the satisfaction of succeeding.
" A young man accosted me this morning, who is thrown into this gaol for ten pounds,
by a tailor of street, London, for a
suit of clothes during his apprenticeship. He seems an ingenuous youth, and, if the case be attended with no peculiar aggravation, it is possible that the man might relent upon pro- per application. I am persuaded you will not think the trouble of a call ill repaid, by the chance of such a kindness as the liberation of a youth from confinement, for such a trifle."
In the course of this narrative we shall have occasion to enlarge upon a subject so honourable to our friend's character; for in
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 177
this, as in every other situation of life, it might be justly said of him,
" Still to relieve the wretched was his pride. And ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side."
VOL. 11. N
178 LIFE OF
CHAP. IX.
Fisits to Mr. Wakefield — Literary Projects — Mr. DodsorCs
Legacy.
1799.
In September of this year one of the pre- sent writers made an excursion to Dorchester, to visit Mr. Wakefield.
The presence of a friend, whom he had long honoured with his confidence, appeared to revive all his former vivacity. The gloomy scenes, continually in his view, would naturally, as we have already remarked, affect his spirits during the hours of solitude to which he was doomed by the regulations of the prison. But the powers of his mind seemed to have lost nothing of their native vigour and elasticity.
His conversation continually turned upon subjects connected with the discovery and cultivation of useful knowledge. The acqui-, sition and communication of important truth might, indeed, be said to form his ruling pas- sion. Various were the works which he ex-
' GILBERT WAKEFIELD. i^g
pressed a wish to execute, had not the absence of his library proved an insuperable obstacle. Yet, while his literary pursuits were thus ob- structed, he was engaged in a more than usual exercise of the duties of humanity.
It excited no common interest to observe the kindness and courtesy of his behaviour towards all the prisoners. They, in return, were eager to seize every opportunity of evincing their gratitude for an attention to Avhich they were so little accustomed. Of the greater part of them it might be truly said, that with the exception of himself, they had
"■ No eye to mark their sufferings with a tear. No friend to comfort, and no hope to cheer." '•
He took great pains to enquire into their peculiar cases, and made them the subject of frequent conversation with his friends, who, in several instances, had the satisfaction of contributing to their relief. One instance has been already noticed, and more might be added, even from our own personal knowledge. The prisoners frequently requested him to draw up petitions in their behalf, for mercy, or for mitigation of punishment. These of-
^ Day's " Dying Negro."
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fices of Christian charity, and a thousand others, did he most cheerfully perform/
It was indeed a sentiment frequently urged by him, that the most exalted endowments of intellect, unaccompanied by a dfsposition to active benevolence, forfeited all claim to respect.
The following extract from his manuscript papers forcibly inculcates the same doctrine.
* The following account of Mr. Wakefield's minute atten- tions to the wants of the prisoners we received from an eye- witness in his own family. It places him in so amiable a point of view as to require no apology for it's insertion,
" During the high price of bread, he bought large quan- tities of mackarel, which he distributed amongst the prisoners : he also occasionally gave them money for Seaj sixpence to each of the men, and a shilling to the women. To such of them, who were desirous of employing themselves in reading on Sundays, and after their work, he gave Testaments. In the winter of thfe year 1799 and 1800 the weather was re- markably severe, and he supplied them with potatoes, to- bacco, and other things, of which they stood in need, as their portion of bread was comparatively small, and the quality verj' inferior. He likewise contributed greatly to the comfort of the deltors, by giving them his advice in their affairs, and sending the newspapers to them daily. He also wrote letters for them to their friends, and was the means of procuring the liberation of several. To them likewise he gave money for coals and other necessaries. After their release many of them sent small presents of lish, and other trifling things, to shew their gratitude for his kindness."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 181
The recurrence of this sentiment, in various parts of his writings, proves in a great mea- sure that it was not merely a speculative opi- nion. It was carried into the constant prac- tice of his life, and became the rule by which he estimated his own character, with no less impartiality than that of others.
He remarks, " that knowledge only is of value which exalts the virtue, multiplies the comforts, soothes the sorrow, and improves the general felicity of human intercourse; which accompanies the possessor in every con- dition, and through all the vicissitudes of mortality; which exhilarates and amends so- ciety, which solaces and animates the retire- ment of domestic life."
Similar to these were the sentiments of Dr. John Jebb, whose life was a noble " com- ment on the truths he taught." In his dis- course " on the Excellency of the Spirit of Benevolence," he thus expresses himself: *' The gift of superior wisdom and abilities, the advantages of learning, are valuable only in the use. He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow, if he toileth only for him- self. If he hath no other end in view than the gratification of a vain, aspiring spirit, the humble diffidence of the unlettered peasant is jnore deserving of our praise. Let not then the
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light of science shine inward only on thyself. Let it irradiate thy neighbour's footsteps with it's friendly beam : let it light him on his dark and dangerous way through the wilderness of human life. The ray of knowledge which thus informs his mind shall, by strong reflection, more powerfully illuminate th'me ownJ"^
The whole of this sermon was a peculiar favourite with Mr. Wakefield. Quoting another passage from it, he says, " Dr. John Jebb, lost alas ! too soon to his friends, to his country and mankind, expresses himself with a pathos beyond all praise, and highly symptomatic of liis own tenderness and sensibility."^
We have already had occasion to remark an undesigned, though favourable result of Mr. Wakefield's prosecution. It strengthened the attachment, while it added to the number, of his friends. It has likewise been mentioned how numerous were the expressions of sym- pathy and regard which he received during his imprisonment in the King's Bench. The distance to which he was now removed pre- cluded, in many instances, these personal attentions.
f Works, II. p. 21. 5 Evidences of Christianity, 2d edit. Q\. note.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 183
During the latter end of September, how- ever, he was higlily gratified by a visit from his former pupil and intimate friend, Dr. Crompton, of Eton, near Liverpool. Of the sincerity and firmness of this gentleman's at- tachment he had received, upon all occasions, the most ample proofs; and never spoke of him but in terms of affection and esteem. Mrs. Crompton, and her sister, very kindly em- braced the same opportunity of testifying their respect for Mr. Wakefield and his family.
As the health of his eldest daughter, for a considerable time previously to this period, had been very indifferent, Mrs. Crompton prevailed upon her to return with them into Lancashire, in the hope that change of air, and a new scene, would restore her health and spirits. Mr. Wakefield, whose first wish was the happiness of his family, readily seconded the proposal, especially as coming from friends Avhose attachment to himself would give an additional interest to her resi- dence among them.
During this separation he kept up a regular correspondence with his daughter, who has favoured us with a perusal of her father's let- ters. They do equal honour to the parent and the child, nor is any one more capable of ap- preciating their value than herself.
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From the aifection they discover, and the valuable remarks they contain, we are per- suaded that such as can he properly intro- duced into this narrative will be very accept- able. The following is the first letter after his daughter had left Dorchester:
Dorchester Gaol, Oct. IQ, 1799, MY VERY DEAR CHILD,
I SHALL occasionally employ myself in giving you a few directions, which may contribute to the perfection of your conduct and the improvement of your understanding ; but I do not require from you a punctual re- ply to all my letters, and I shall be fully re- quited by a few lines either to your mother, your sister, or myself. I wish you in this, and in every other respect, to consult your own inclination and convenience, under the govern- ment of conviction, and a just regard to pro- priety and decorum.
It is unnecessary for me, I know, to desire your attention to my advice. You must be persuaded that I can be impelled to an occu- pation, most odious'' in general, and almost
^ Mr. Wakefield used frequently to mention his great aversion to writing letters. In a letter to one of the present
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 185
insupportable, from my attachment to other pursuits, by no motive but affection for you, and that I can propose to myself no object but the advancement of your happiness. Few people also have been more accurately ob- servant of men and manners than myself: so that my suggestions will not only be the off- spring of affection, but the deductions of ex- perience.
I suppose that almost every supposeable circumstance will conspire to render your present situation agreeable. The attentions of a family, whose wishes for your company were ardent and spontaneous, and whose at- tachment to your mother and myself has been long and sincere: occasional visitors of very pure manners, and highly cultivated under- standings. These circumstances, and many more, will combine to reconcile you to a tem-
"writers, he says, " Make no apologies for delay in answering nay letters. You know my failing in this respect j but it arises from the extreme eagerness with which I have always pursued ray studies as my necessary duty, and have, therefore, regarded all interruption from correspondence as a loss, unless some ser- vice were connected with it beyond the mere formalities of profession : but you are one of the few, to whom I have writ- ten, and will continue to write, with pleasure, while I car} write at all j
" Dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regit artus."
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porary separation from ourselves, who rejoice in every occasion of promoting your comfort, and cordially acquiesce in this excursion, as probably beneficial both to your health and manners, by a more enlarged communication with society. No young person, my dear child ! in a similar rank of life, was ever en- compassed by greater blessings than yourself: and, I am sure, you must be sensible of the variety and peculiarity of your comforts.
You have that frankness and openness of manners and conversation, which I have al- ways encouraged in you, and which is the result, I am persuaded, of an undisguised and uncorrupted heart. But let me entreat you, my dearest love ! to express, on all occasions, your dissent from the opinion of others in the softest manner, and in the most conciliating language. Though some people regard me as violent and self-M'illed, I know very well that I owe the extraordinary affection of my many friends to no one property so much as a kind attention to their sentiments, and a civil man- ner of disputing them. Nothing so much be- comes all mankind as gentleness, condescen- sion, and an unassuming proposal of our opi- nions: but this complacency of deportment is most of all becoming the young and inexpe- rienced, and especially your own sex.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 18;
Sir Isaac Newton, the most sublime intelli- gence among the sons of men, was also the most modest, the most humble, and the least disputatious person, that has yet existed. I need not mention that self-love and pride urge every human being to oppose, repress, and disparage the forward and the petulant ; whilst the benevolent, and polite and conciliating, secure to themselves the universal homage of deference, esteem, and love. So certainly will our own happiness be effected by an un- deviating assiduity in promoting the happiness of others. Adieu! my dear child, accept the affectionate wishes and remembrances of us all, and fail not in communicating our respect- ful acknowledgments to all the family.
Believe me, my dear.
Your most loving father,
Gilbert Wakefield,
He was now desirous of undertaking a work which, from its perfect congeniality with his taste, and the general cast of his studies, would have furnished a most agree- able relief to his solitary hours. This inten- tion, however, was never carried into execu- tion. Here again his schemes were interrupted by the want of his library. Other circum-
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stances also discouraged him from pursuing this design.
In a letter (dated Oct. 9), he says, " I meditate a beginning, during the winter, of my criticisms on all the ancient Greek and Latin authors by small peace-meals, on the cheapest possible paper, and at the least pos- sible expence of printing. As I can never do more than barely indemnify myself, I shall print only two hundred and fifty copies; and should like to know from Hamilton what Avould be the cheapest and least wasteful size, 8vo. or 12mo.
In a subsequent letter, he observes, " This project has no connexion with my Silva Cri- tica."
The vast expence which he had incurred by his splendid edition of Lucretius, in the flattering expectation of a more liberal en- couragement from the Avealthy patrons of classic learning, had taught him a dear lesson of prudence. He was cautious of hazarding a similar disappointment, and eventually de- terred from prosecuting even the present very contracted scheme of publication.
Thus having abandoned the hopes of ac- complishing any original work in a manner either satisfactory to himself, or correspondent
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. IS9
to the reasonable expectation of tlie public, he was induced to direct his attention to the translation of some ancient author. In a let- ter of Nov. 5, he thus notices his new pro- ject : ''I thought of translating some of the more interesting essays of Dio Chrysostom, none of Avhich, I dare say, have ever appeared in an English dress. But this might be en- quired into.
" They would make but a small 8vo. vo- lume, and if Phillips approve, I will translate them immediately, and require no recompence but a dozen copies for my friends, unless the success of this publication should justify him in any additional acknowledgment.
" Should this answer, some of Plutarch might then be safely undertaken."
No sooner was the plan settled, than the completion of it followed with his accustomed rapidity.
In the letter just quoted, he had remarked, " I am exceedingly immersed in study. I have got an old manuscript Statins from the Duke of Grafton, and expect some Greek manu- scripts from Cambridge at Christmas." Still however, within a few days, we find him fully occupied in his ??er(y work. He writes, "lam up to the' neck in my translation, as well as a great deal of necessary, but most irksome
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letter writing. I shall send up some copy for Hamilton next week." Before the end of January he writes " All the copy of the trans- lation is now forthcomino-,"
The celerity with which he executed this task is more surprising as, for the reasons just mentioned, he was a trajislator rather from ne- cessity than choice.
Of the difficulties attending this depart- ment of literature, he had a higher notion than is usually entertained.
" As to translations in general," he ob- serves, " without fearing an imputation of selfishness for attempting to magnify our office, an assertion of Horace may be transferred, with entire confidence, and undisputed truth, to versions of authors in the dead languages from the reception of comic writers in ancient Rome.
" Creditur, ex medio quia res arcessit, habere Sudoris minimum j sed habet Comaedia tanto Plus oneris, quanto veniae minus."
Epist. ii. 1. 168.'
i " 'Tis thought that Comedy least skill demands; Since common life is fashion'd to our hands. Far otherwise : since candour will confess The toil is greater where th' allowance less.
BOSCAWEN,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. Ipl
*' Translation, because the materials are provided to our own hands, is thought an easy occupation; but the candour and indulgence of a reader bear no ratio to the difficulties of a labourer in this province; for, in fact, an unrestrained and idiomatical transfusion of a Greek or Latin author into a modern language, with fidelity to the sentiment, and unoffending facility of connected and free construction through successive paragraphs, constitutes an undertaking nice and arduous in the extreme, so as to become, in some instances, an almost insuperable task." "^
This translation is accompanied with short notes, containing illustrations of various pas- sages in ancient authors, both sacred and pro- fane, more particularly the former.
" I have been solicitous," he adds, '' even in the execution of a work like this, not to lose sight altogether of an object eminently grate- ful and interesting to my feelings; I mean a most earnest desire, from a deep and matured conviction of their essential connection Avith the permanent and substantial happiness of the human race, of recommending the Scriptures of Re'celatio7ij not merely as the grand reposi- tories of invaluable truth, but as elegant stores
^ Manuscript preface originally intended for this work.
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of philological amusement, replete with speci- mens of the noblest sentiment, and with every fascinating beauty of language and composi- tion: specimens abundantly meriting the re- gard and admiration both of the linguist and the philosopher. Until the books of the Old and Neiv Covenant shall be made by scholars the subjects of rational philology, and be read, studied, and criticised, like an ancient classic, we are highly unreasonable in expecting a removal of the veil from the hearts of un- believers.^
At the close of the above observations, he alludes to his feelings and situation, in a pas- sage which we prevailed upon him to suppress while he remained under the power of his enemies.
" I executed the task, imposed on myself, under a multiplicity of interruptions and dis- quietude; yet the reader, who forms a rational and equitable judgment of my feelings from an experimental acquaintance with my senti- ments and conduct, will know himself au- thorised to consider me, not as acquiescing only, but as exulting, in my captivity, corro- borated and consoled, as I am, by the inces- sant gratulations of an approving conscience.
Ibid.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 193
and by the inexhaustible delights of solid literature ; blessings, which cleave to their possessor under all the vicissitudes of time and place, and through all the revolutions of mor- tality:— as glorying in my punishment, amidst the plaudits of friends and benefactors, some of the most virtuous, enlightened, and affec- tionate, of mankind ! whose sweet infusion of benevolence and sympathy has tempered that cup of bitterness, which the malignity of my persecutors had mixed for me, into a potion of health and joy.'""
At the end of November in this year, Mr. Wakefield received the unexpected intelligence of the death of his much-esteemed friend, Michael Dodson, Esq. This gentleman (who was the nephew of that distinguished judge Sir Michael Foster) united considerable en- dowments of the understanding to the amiable and milder qualities of the heart. Educated to the profession of the law, his studies were by no means confined to that object. His in- timate acquaintance with the Scriptures, and Biblical criticism in general, has long been ac- knowledged by eminent scholars.
Though Mr. Dodson's friendly, and indeed
'" Ibid. VOL. II. O
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affectionate, attachment had been shewn to Mr. Wakefield on various occasions, especially after he had incurred the severities of ministerial prosecution, our friend had not the least ex- pectation of being noticed in the generous manner described in the course of the follow-^ ing letter :
Dorchester Gaol, Nov. 30, 1/99. MY DEAR SIR,
I HOPE you will be equal to the de- cyphering of this letter, for Chrysostom has so wearied my hand that I can scarcely write at all. I take an opportunity of enclosing some copy, though they have already got plenty; but I wish it out of my sight: and you will be kind enough to convey it to Hamilton at your leisure.
Dr. Pett told me of Mr. Dodson's death, and the day, or second day after, I saw it in the " Morning Chronicle." Mrs. Wakefield suggested the propriety of a letter to his widow, which I immediately acknowledged. I wrote accordingly in terms of condolence, and in terms ardently expressive of my great regard and high veneration of his talents and virtues; under which sentiments you remem- ber me to have uniformly spoken of him.
Last Sunday (five days after my letter)
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. igS
Dr. Disney, one of the executors, informed me of the legacy of five hundred pounds, Avhich produced as much astonishment in me as any incident of my life. I had not enjoyed the pleasure of his intimacy very long; and felt myself exceedingly gratified indeed to be so regarded by such a man.
That article, at least, of Mr. Dodson's will must have been inserted, or added since my arrival in this place, for the bequest runs, "To Gilbert Wakefield, now a prisoner in Dorches- ter Gaol," &c.
I shall soon have finished as much of the ChrysGstom as will be advisable for the experi- ment. Should it answer, there will be, I per- ceive, good materials for another volume. The printers know my hand so well, that I hope the proofs will come correct without any ne- cessity of giving you trouble.
You will do me justice by expressing to Mr. and Mrs. Barclay, on all occasions, the great interest which I take in their happiness and that of their children, and the sincere esteem which I entertain for them.
Mr. 's attention is very grateful;
not because I had the least suspicion of his great intrinsic worth, but because his extreme diffidence and solitary peculiarities render such solicitude much more valuable.
o
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When I write my preface to these transla- tions" I shall transmit it for your inspection and approbation.
One quarter of my time expires this day; but I have lost all solicitude, or thereabout, on this subject. When you call in Essex- street, do not fail of giving my affectionate respects to Mr. Lindsey. It is scarcely possible for man to live a more pure, liberal, and con- scientious life than he.
My cordial remembrance to your brothers. My family are altogether yours, at all times, with,
My dear Sir,
Your most affectionate
And unalterable friend, Gilbert Wakefield.
On the subject of Mr. Dodson's bequest, he expresses himself in similar language to his daughter: — " In a letter of condolence, which, at the immediate suggestion of your mother, I wrote to Mrs. Dodson, I employed such expressions, as a most sincere regard, I may say veneration, for a man, among the most respectable for abilities, and every gentler vir- tue, naturally excited.
" Of Chrysostom. See supra.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, I97
My declarations of esteem were perfectly disinterested and spontaneous ; nor could I possibly pre-conceive, from our comparatively short acquaintance, though his behaviour to me was always attentive, and even highly af- fectionate, that he would have remembered me in his will. I own, independently of his more substantial memorial, I have never been more gratified than by this indication of re- spect from so amiable and accomplished a cha- racter."
While Mr. Wakefield was consoled and ani- mated by an attention to him in captivity, so far beyond " the cold charity of praise;" this captivity was rendered more irksome, than at first, by the illiberal treatment which he began to experience from the keeper of the prison. The subject is mentioned in the fol- lowing letter, and will be explained more at large in the ensuing chapter.
Dorchester Gaol, Dec. 25, 1 799- MY DEAR FRIEND,
I AM sorry for such causes as depriv?:' me of the pleasure of seeing you; but that pleasure will never be enjoyed by my consent
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to the sacrifice of important concerns, such as daily press upon you.
In general we all go on very well, and I am very diligent in the pursuit of my object, but think at present of troubling you for no more books. Indeed I have no room for many, and some laborious and irksome read- ing, which must some time have been struggled through, is furnished by my present stock.
This late affair will all blow over, and be productive of some serious good to counter- balance the additional expence. One pleasing consequence, especially, will be an entire se- paration from such domestic society as was become the principal part of my punishment.
My own conduct has been so unexception- able here, and is so approved by those gentle- men of the town who visit us, that, with all the partiality of the magistrates, it is not in the power of the adversary [the gaoler] ever to injure me. I never felt more firm and se- cure, on my own foundation of resolution and good intention, in my life.
Mrs. Wakefield has been distressed by this affair beyond measure; and the forbearance, which I have used, has been entirely in accom- modation to her, and indeed of a very proper kind, so that even she will not regret this in- terruption of our tranquillity any more.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 199
I was hoping that peace might take place between the Emperor and the French, and thus peace at home become probable, from the inability of satisfying even ministerialists, as to an adequate object of the war.
Yours, my dear Sir,
Most truly, Gilbert Wakefield.
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CHAP. X.
Circumstances of Mr. Wakefield's Imprisonment, continued — Proposals for a Greek and English Lexicon — Letters.
1800.
Mr. Wakefield was too sang-uine in his expectation of a speed}' issue to his misunder- standing with the gaoler. Men in such stations are generally possessed of " hearts unknowing how to yield." Our friend was perplexed and harassed upon this account during several months of the year 1800, " exposed," as he describes it, " to all the degrading vexations and mortifying insults of persecution, without the dignity of suffering."
It was a serious aggravation of this injury, that its consequences could not be confined to himself, but extended, in a distressing manner, to his M'ife and family, and all who were in- terested in his happiness. The particulars of the affair cannot be better related than in his
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 201
own words, copied from a paper" \vhich we received from liim at the time.
*' About ten days before my arrival two of my brothers came down to Dorchester, and agreed with the gaoler to give him one hun- dred pounds a year for my board and lodging. I was to occupy a single room in the house, and to have my meals with the family. It was mentioned that if I drank fermented liquors of any kind I should provide them for myself; that I was little solicitous about my dinner, and took most pleasure in my tea at breakfast, and in the afternoon. Few words passed on the occasion; but the gaoler declared, that if
" Should the minute detail in this paper require an apology, we offer it in the words of Dr. Johnson.
" These diminutive observations seem to take away some- thing from the dignity of writing, and therefore are never com- municated but with hesitation, and a little fear of abasement and contempt. But it must be remembered that life consists not of a series of illustrious actions, or elegant enjoyment; the greater part of our time passes in compliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the procurement of petty pleasures; and we are well or ill at ease, as the main stream of life glides on smoothly, or is ruffled by obstacles, and frequent inter- rnytion."
" Journey to the Western Islands." " BamfF," Works viii. 232.
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one thing M'as more agreeable than another, he should be glad to provide it for me.
*' For some time after my arrival, the ar- ticle of diet went on tolerably well; but I soon perceived that, in consequence of familiarity and other circumstances, even my most reason- able wishes began to be treated with neglect. The morning and afternoon meals, which they knew to be essential to my habits, became ex- tremely bad. The hours also of the meals were so variable as to occasion constant head- aches and languor for want of regular sus- tenance.
" A fortnight before the expiration of half a year of my imprisonment, I told the gaoler that the extreme irregularity of their meals made it impossible for me to diet with them any longer; and I accordingly furnished my own provisions in my own loom. I expected him to oifer some accommodation in this ar- ticle, by enforcing more regularity, but not a word of civility to this effect came from his lips.
" When my second quarter was completed, I made the regular quarterly payment, but sig- nified that I should not be willing to pay at that rate in future, after such treatment, and being thus compelled to purchase my own pro- visions. 1 added that I should lay the affair
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 203
before the magistrates. He said that I might do as I pleased, but that I must continue to pay as before. From an inability to relieve myself, I paid my other two quarters, to the end of the year.
" As the gaoler, in consequence of my per- sisting to remonstrate against his unjustifiable demands, had declared his fixed determination to remove me from his house, at the expiration of the year (if the magistrates should not pre- vent him) into the Common Gaol, amongst the felons, where I must have slept in a stone cell without fire-place, or window, with an open grate-work of iron, which admits the rain; dreading the effects of his resentment, at my
request, the Duke of applied to Mr.
Morton Pitt, one of the magistrates, and Lord
, through Mr. Fox, to Mr. Frampton,
another of the magistrates, to interfere in my behalf, and induce the gaoler to suffer me to continue, on reasonable terms, or provide apart- ments in the prison, detached from the com- mon felons.
" In consequence of these applications, Mr. Morton Pitt and Mr. Frampton called upon me. The former made declarations of civility, but intimated, that, if I could not agree with the gaoler, I could have no accommodation but in a cell, and not in the debtors' house, as I
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wished, and where three roojiis zvere wioccupied; though the gaoler himself admits any felon into that house, who will pay him half a crown a week for the privilege; two of which de- scription are there at this time.
" Before the conclusion of my first year's imprisonment, several letters -were exchanged between Mr. Morton Pitt and myself. The purport of his was, that an accommodation might easily take place between the gaoler and myself. I had mentioned that I >vas willinc to give a guinea per week for the use of my room alone; that no person whom I had con- sulted could think me justified in ofifering more, but deemed, in reality, that oflfer to be beyond what v/as reasonable; which was also the opinion of the most respectable individual among the magistrates, to M'hom ho^vever I never spoke on this subject, but who thought my treatment had been very unhandsome. In the mean time, Mr. Morton Pitt had agreed with the gaoler that I ought to pay seventy pounds a ye.?iY for my room, exclusive of board, thouo-h for the latter, the gaoler always charges every debtor a guinea a week. As I did not assent to this agreement, I laid the whole of my case before all the magistrates, about a week before the end of the year, and intreated their inter- ference.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 205
'' Three of them, accordingly, came to me; they told me that if I could not agree with the gaoler I must go into the common gaol, be confined by myself, excluded from all inter- course, except with the felons, have a narrow passage to sit in during the day, and sleep in such a cell as before described.
" Suspecting what might be the result of their deliberations, by what I had experienced from them before, in limiting the visits of my wife and family to certain days of the week, and certain hours of the dav, I had deter- mined, by the advice of my friends, if the justices should prove unfavourable, and leave me no choice between the gaoler's demands and a banishment into the common gaol, to pay the required sum of seventy pounds; in consequence of the extreme distress of my wife and family on this occasion, and the irre- trievable inconvenience to my literary pur- suits. Accordingly, I signified this determina- tion to the magistrates, and have, in conse- quence, remained in the house, making my quarterly payment at the rate of seventy pounds per annum."
There can be no reasonable ground for doubting the truth and correctness of the above account. It entirely concurs with Mr^
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Wakefield's M^ritten "Appeal to the ]\fagis- trates," of which M'e have a copy in his own hand-writing. In that "Appeal," aware that some might deem his expectations unreason- able, and his complaints comparatively frivo- lous, he says,
" If it should be rejoined in answer to thse objections, which may appear trivial, but are really of as much importance as health and sustenance can possibly be to man, that better treatment is not to be expected in a gaol: the reply is, that such treatment, as a punishment, by the law, may be no subject of com- plaint: but ]\Ir. Wakefield conceives that he has as much right to expect his room fur- nished, and his meals correspondent to agree- ment, when paid for handsomely, in a gaol, as in any other place."
Upon a review of all the circumstances, it must be left to the reader to decide how far (considering the power with which they were invested) the conduct of the magistrates, on this occasion, wholly exempts them from the imputation of blame ; and whether they can be considered as having acted in every part of this transaction, with that strict impartiality which became their office, and with that libe- rality which the character of Mr. Wakefield,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 207
and the unfortunate situation into which he was thrown, peculiarly demanded.
To detail the ill-treatment experienced by our friend, on this and various other occasions, is no very welcome office; but the suppression of these circumstances M'ould be great injus- tice to his memory.
Indeed, every act of misconduct in persons who fill the important office of gaoler, and su- perintendant of prisons, " those caverns of oblivion," as Johnson calls them, where so large a portion of our fellow-creatures are con- stantly immured, and where abuses are so easily committed, and with so much difficulty detected, ought to be held up to public cen- sure and reprobation.
It had been far more pleasing to have imi- tated, to the best of our ability, the example of the author just quoted. He appears highly gratified with the opportunity of recording the '' tenderness and civilitv," and even be- nevolence, of a gaoler in the case of the un- fortunate, but profligate. Savage.^
In those of higlier stations, who contributed so much to Mr. Wakefield's sufferings, what can more stronelv indicate a want of the com-
P Life of Savage, ad fin.
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mon sympathies of humanity, than a determi- nation to consign a person of such a descrip- tion to the miseries of a common gaol, in the construction of which no provision whatever is made for any but criminals of the lowest class, and where the alternatives are, con- finement in a narrow cold cell, and a share of the common prison allowance, or sub- mission to the capriciousness of an imperious gaoler ?
The following remarks on this subject very naturally suggested themselves to the mind of Mr. VVakefield, and are found among his papers :
" Judges should reflect, when they sen- tence men to such places as this, that they are inflicting a punishment grievous beyond the contemplation of the law : Ministers also should rather construct prisons adapted to the objects of their resentment, and not punish them, even beyond the intention of their tender mercies, by a condemnation to such society as inflicts a tenfold aggravation of their sufferings."
Though his tranquillity was thus disturbed by the disposition and conduct of the persons to whose power he was now committed, he never neglected his literary pursuits.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 209
Early in this year (1800) he determined to ascertain how far the public were disposed to give encouragement to a work, which had long been in his contemplation, and for which he had accumulated a large stock of materials.
His critical study of the Greek writers had led him to remark the lamentable deficiencies, and inaccuracies of Hederics Le.vicon, and he had accustomed himself, almost from the pe- riod of his quitting school, to note, in the margin of his own copy, such alterations and corrections as were suggested by an attentive study of the best Greek authors. These were originally designed simply for his own im- provement. Finding, at length, that his notes became very numerous, he adopted the plan of continuing them in an interleaved copy of Hederic,
It was his practice, during a long course of years, when reading an}^ Greek author, either alone, or with his pupils, to keep the Lexicon open before him. To this he continually re- ferred for the examination and correction of errors and omissions with a patient assiduity which would surprise an ordinary student. His enthusiastic love of classic literature, and his ardent desire to facilitate the knowledo-e
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of it, reconciled him to a task so painful, and laborious, to a man of bis refined taste.
As bis first object in tbe proposed work was to assist tbe studies of bis own country- men, it was bis design to give an English instead of a Latin interpretation, notwith- standing tbe prevailing prejudices against such an innovation.
The scope and plan of this undertakings and tbe motives which influenced him to de- viate from the general practice Avith regard to the interpretation, will be best understood by his own statement. We shall therefore in- sert below 'I a copy of the proposals which he
4 Pla?i and Conditions of a new Greek and English Lexicon^ By Gilbert IFukqfield, B. A.
1. This Lexicon will be a thick volume in quarto; and is proposed to be published by subscription; the price 2l. 2s. — one half to be paid at the time of subscribing, and the re- mainder on the delivery of tlie book.
2. It will be ready for the press soon after the editors re- lease from Dorchester Gaol, on May 30th, 1801] as the prin- cipal materials have been long since provided: and it will be printed off with all possible expedition.
3. The execution will be conducted on the plan of He- deric, as enlarged and corrected by Morell, because of the commodiousness of that plan for common use; but with great and verj' important improvements in many respects on that Lexicon, The compilation and composition of a compleat Lexicon for the Greek language would be an enterprise of far
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 2H
circulated with a view to consult the disposi- tion of the literary world,
greater labour and ampler compass, so as to require a much more liberal subscription and more general patronage than is expected for the present undertaking.
4. The interpretation of the Greek words will be universally in English, as incomparably preferable in every respect for domestic use to a Latin interpretation; and this single variation will render, it is presumed, the projected Lexicon a most eli'^ible acquisition to schools and all private students of the Greek language. A Latin interpretation must generally ap- pear inadequate to an English student, is frequently no less obscure and unintelligible than the original, and often serves only to conceal the doubts and ignorance of the Lexicographer, On the contrary, the true power and nice peculiarities of the Greek idiom may be communicated more fully and clearly in the English language; which is, for the most part, extremely well calculated to represent the elegancies and proprieties of the Greek tongue, '
5. An addition will be made of many words, not fewer than from. Jifteen to twenty thousand, or upwards; almost en- tirely accumulated by the editor in a course of years during the prosecution of his studies, with an immediate view to his own private use, but with some prospect of the present under- taking: words, not inserted in Hcdcric, nor, as the editor be- lieves, in any extant Lexicon whatever.
0. A retrenchment of superfluities will take place, and a correction of errors and absurdities, without number.
7. Greater accuracy and simplicity will be observed in stating the primary, and the derivative, or inferrible, sense of words, in conformity to the original principles and subse- quent processes of all learned and long-prevailing languages.
2
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That this design was the result of mature consideration, and that he was not insensiljle of the extreme difficulty of the task which he was about to impose upon himself, will appear from the following letter to one of the present writers. It at the same time discovers, more strikingly than any formal observations, that ardour in his pursuits which even the restraints and mortifications inseparable from his present situation could not subdue.
8. This Lexicon will be enriched also by a very consider- able addition of legitimate constructions, elegant phrases, and varieties of formation in verbs and nouns, from the most ap- proved writers of antiquity j all highly necessary to a just per- ception of the beauties and proprieties of the Greek language.
g. Lastly, numberless words will be ascertained and con- firmed by the most classic authors, which now appear in the best editions of Hederic, with more exceptionable or with no autliority at all.
As the execution of this work, both in point of labour and cxpence, appears very formidable to the editor, and is indeed a most arduous enterprise for an individual} and, as the pub- lic literature of the country is materially interested in a work of this nature; he shall not feel himself induced to proceed in the printing of it with a less encouragement than a subscrip- tion for two thousand copies,
Dorchester Gaol, Feb. 4, 1800,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 213
Dorchester Gaol, Jan. 25, 1800. MY DEAR FRIEND,
The great irregularity of the meals in this family quite wearied me out; so, now I have them hy myself, am much better in health, and have more time for study; but not enough, unless I could make time more, or banish sleep. As the mornings lengthen, I shall re- deem my time by rising early.
I add perpetually to my Lexicon : not much short, I think, of two thousand words since I came hither; besides other great im- provements. A complete work, according to the ability furnished by my papers, would be a grand atchievement ; but I only look for en- couragement to an improvement of the school edition.
It came into my head yesterday, prompted,
in part, by some conversation with Mr. H
on the subject, that I cannot too soon get ready the proposals, because, if it did not ap- pear to meet with the encouragement which I should hope, I Avould not incessantly turn so much attention in my studies to this object. Since, also, it is a work of infinite labour and magnitude, a competent time for preparation and sounding the disposition of the public,
214 LIFE OF
seems advisable. I shoiikl propose to begin upon the transcription of it for tlie press, im- mediately after my exit from this place.
In a day or two, perhaps tomorrow, I shall send you the proposals for your opinion, and wait for that before I request you to get them printed. It Mill not be unreasonable, I think, to expect half the subscription down, and the other half on the delivery of the book.
The trouble and exertion of this undertak- ing are so enormous, that the public is full as much interested in it as myself; and I should be perfectly indifferent, nay, averse, to it without a handsome recompence. I cannot think that less than a certainty of disposing of two thousand copies should encourage me to proceed. The immense labour sometimes terrifies me; but with proper encouragement, and health, I should o-o on.
After an interval of some weeks, he thus writes :
" I doubt very much whether the Lexicon will be encouraged to the extent I propose ; but if it is not, I shall abandon the project, as I do assure you that, scarcely any gain, inde- pendently of a sense of duty, could induce me to undertake so vast and expensive an occupa- tion, but of infinite utility.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 215
^' If the literary world, whose concern it is, feel no disposition to patronise it, I shall retire unrekictantly from a most awful and try- ing undertaking. I was willing, however, to bring my extensive collection of materials, in this line, before the public."
The proposals had now been circulated for several months. The encouragement received was by no means sufficient to justify Mr. Wakefield in putting his work to the press with any fair prospect of remuneration. Dur- ing this interval also, the expence of paper and printing had greatly increased. At length he determined to abandon tliis project, if not altogether, at least, till some more auspicious season. He accordingly remarks, "^ " On the present dearness of printing and paper in this country, my Lexicon cannot possibly pro- ceed, and I am therefore quite willing to abandon it."
The suppression of such a work was cer- tainly a serious loss to the students of ancient literature, as we cannot soon expect to see the avduous office for which he was so eminently
»■ January 23, 1801 .
215 LIFE OF
nor an event to be viewed In others, op ex- pected by ourselves, with horror and trepida- tion. The proper use oF these events is " to number our days so as to apply our hearts unto wisdom:" to be admonished by such re- movals of the shortness and uncertainty of our own time, and to rouse ourselves to addi- tional activity in purifying our own hearts and exercising our benevolent offices and af- fections.
We have a particular inducement to recon- cile our minds to this separation from those ■whom we loved most, when their dissolution has not been violently effected by severe and trying sicknesses, but has proved the gradual operation of increasing age on a tabernacle in- sensibly yielding to the impulse.
quent writer, whose works, we apprehend, are not very much read.
*' We abhor death as a horrid monster, made only to de- stroy and devour, to damp the joys^ to cloud, confine, and ab- sorb, the prospects and pleasures of life; but God sees, and sends it as an angel of light, to disperse the darkness, and can- cel the miseries, of mortality; to strike off the fetters of cur prison-house, and to conduct us to light, to liberty, and ' glory."
Discourses, &c. by Thomas Hunter, M. A. Vicar of Weaverham, Cheshire. II. 220.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 219
One reflection must be highly consolatory to you all — your father's defects were but foibles; his excellencies, superior and shining virtues. You will oblige me by expressing the sincere interest which I feel in all the sor- rows of your family, to your mother, and brothers.
I am, my dear Sir,
INiost fliithfullv yours,
Gilbert Wakefield.
The event which jNIr. Wakefield foreboded, respecting his mother, took place within a few days. On this occasion, he naturally expresses to his daughter sentiments very similar to the foregoing. Yet these suggestions from a pa- rent, on a subject so momentous, must carry with them a peculiar interest.
Dorchester Gaol^ Feb. 15, 1800. MY DEAR CHILD,
Your grandmother, after lying for some time past in such an uncomfortable and painful condition, as to make her release much desired by herself, and a real satisfaction to all who were interested in her happiness, was res- cued, after a painful and convulsive trial
\
21S LIFE OF
iior an event to be viewed in otliers, op ex- pected by onrselves, with horror and trepida- tion. The proper use oF tliese events is " to number our days so as to apply our hearts unto wisdom:" to be admonished by such re- movals of the shortness and uncertainty of our own time, and to rouse ourselves to addi- tional activity in purifying our own hearts and exercising our benevolent offices and af- fections.
We have a particular inducement to recon- cile our minds to this separation from those whom we loved most, when their dissolution has not been violently effected by severe and trying sicknesses, but has proved the gradual operation of increasing age on a tabernacle in- sensibly yielding to the impulse.
quent writer, whose works, we apprehend, are not very much read.
*' We abhor death as a horrid monster, made only to de- stroy and devour, to damp the joys, to cloud, confine, and ab- sorb, the prospects and pleasures of life; but God sees, and sends it as an angel of light, to disperse the darkness, and can- cel the miseries, of mortality; to strike off the fetters of cur prison-house, and to conduct us to light, to liberty, and glory."
Discourses, &c. by Thomas Hunter, M. A. Vicar of Weaverham, Cheshire. II. 220.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 219
One reflection must be highly consolatory to you all — your father's defects Avere but foibles; his excellencies, superior and shining virtues. You will ol^lige me by expressing the sincere interest which I feel in all the sor- rows of your family, to your mother, and brothers.
I am, my dear Sir,
]\iost faithfully yours,
Gilbert Wakefield.
The event v/hich Mr. Wakefield foreboded, respecting his mother, took place within a few days. On this occasion, he naturally expresses to his daughter sentiments very similar to the foregoing. Yet these suggestions from a pa- rent, on a subject so momentous, must carry with them a peculiar interest.
Dorchester Gaol^ Feb. 15, 1800. MY DEAR CHILD,
Your grandmother, after lying for some time past in such an uncomfortable and painful condition, as to make her release much desired by herself, and a real satisfaction to all who were interested in her happiness, was res- cued, after a painful and convulsive trial
\
220 LIFE OF
through the wliole day, from all the apprehen- sions and agonies of mortality, at about twenty minutes after ten o'clock, on Thursday nio-ht last.
My dear child! these events are no proper subjects of grief with respect to the person whom the hand of Death has snatched from our sight, and our society; but dictate many an important lesson to the surviving relatives and friends.
Death in itself is 7io evil, under the Chris- tian dispensation, nor is it ever spoken of as an evil in those records which we consider as the directory of our sentiments in this respect: but the reflection of that awful crisis which awaits us all, and will transfer us to the innu- merable multitudes of former generations, should convince us of the utmost insignificance of all earthly objects, but those which have a tendency to administer consolation, and in- spire hopes at that momentous period.
The purification of our own hearts, the re- straint of every irregular, unfriendly and un- edifying passion, with an unceasing cultivation of every benevolent afiection, and every gentle and kind propensity; in short, the ex- tinction, as much as possible, of all unfruitful sdfisJwess, for the promotion of the general
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 221
happiness, and especially the happiness of those with whom our daily intercourse is conversant; these are the proper suggestions to a rational mind from such privations of all that we loved and valued; that the tears, which sympathy and affection and sensibility will delight to shed, may not fall unavailing and unfruitful to the ground.
I hope my dear children will live to see me leave the world with that complacency, with which one who has acted no disgraceful part upon the stage, and who leaves those, in whom he prides himself as his own, may be expected to leave it, with a hope full of immortality.
Adieu, my dear girl ! and accept every blissful wish for time, and eternity for your- self, and both the good families at Eton and Gateacre, from
Your most affectionate father,
Gilbert Wakefield.
In this interesting manner he endeavoured on all occasions to bring before his children his own enlarged views, and noble sentiments, respecting a future state. These, from too much experience, he had found most consola- tory under his various trials and afflictions. • To guard against the natural effect of such
222 LIFE OF
events to produce depression of spirits, he had recourse to his pen and his books, " the faith- fullest friends and the pleasantest companions of a good conscience, amidst all the perturba- tions of terrestrial things, and all the vicissi- tudes of time and place,"" These were con- tinually supplying some rational amusement or offering some new object for the employment of his talents.
He proceeded to wear out the long hours of his imprisonment, '' abating neither heart nor hope." One of the present writers hav- ing expressed his surprise at his perseverance in some literary projects that required consi- derable mental exertion, he writes —
Dorchester Gaol, May 24, ISOO! MY DEAR FRIEND,
You have much obliged and gratified me by your friendly letter. My zeal for study, at which you wonder, is excited, or rather con- tinued, by various inducements. 1. The ne- cessity of my situation, which leaves me no other resource. i2. The conviction of dut}^ which seems to impose that occupation on
" " Letter to Sir J. Scott," p. 3 J .
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 223
every man, for wliicli he feels himself strongly inclined. 3. The preparation which this life appears to furnish for another, in which, per- haps, the same pursuits may go on, and he ap- plied to beneficial purposes. 4. The hopes of making my studies useful, in better times, even in this life. And 5. The improvement of the intellectual faculties, which constitute the characteristic dionitv of our nature.
The maps will be such as I wish, I doubt rot.
My imitation'' of Juvenal! Very curious! As if a man can employ a printer in no work but his own ! The author, no doubt, be he who he may, has some particular affection, and confidence, towards you, and wishes you to distribute them as you think proper; and may possibly have sent copies to other friends. Indeed, the remainder of them might come down to himself at the same time, if he hap- pened to be receiving any maps of the seat of war in Germany or Italy; or such like.
[one of the debtors] is much
pleased by your remembrance of him. His affairs seem approaching to a crisis, but very slowly; as the day of our deaths, if we live to be eighty, is nearer than it was yesterday at noon.
X See the next chapter.
224
LIFE OF
I am not always equally ardent at my studies. The want of my library is a sad in- convenience.
Yours, ever most affectionately and truly,
Gilbert Wakefield.
IfflilJM-
llh
htV~ self n'}.
h[ Ui' ami the on the If"-' T:
fc»J >J?-A i'-M L\.:
nri!iin<MyiiniiHHtiiinnni
" ^^ mv
'i'l in.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
225
CHAP. XL
Imitation of Juvenal — Letters from Mr. Wakefield — Dr. Dar- > win — Scripture Lexicon, isfc.
1800.
It has been already observed that Mr. Wakefield was accustomed occasionally to translate into English verse some passages of his favourite ancient poets.
In the spring of this year he amused him- self with writing an imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, of which he printed, without his name/ a very few copies, designed as pre- sents to his friends. This little composition has been commended by persons of acknow- ledged taste, and judgment, for its successful and spirited application of the characters in the original to men of distinguished station in the present day.
The circulation of these verses havino- been, necessarily, very limited, they are reprinted
y Which explains Mr. Wakefield's allusion to this " Imi- tation," in the preceding chapter.
VOL. II.
Q
224 LIFE OF
I am not always equally ardent at my studies. The want of my library is a sad in- convenience.
Yours, ever most affectionately and truly,
Gilbert Wakefield.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 225
CHAP. XL
Imitation of Juvenal — Letters from Mr. Wakefield — Dr. Dar- win— Scripture Lexicon, ^c.
1800.
It has been already observed that Mr. Wakefield was accustomed occasionally to translate into English verse some passages of his favourite ancient poets.
In the spring of this year he amused him- self with writing an imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvciial, of which he printed, without his name/ a very few copies, designed as pre- sents to his friends. This little composition has been commended by persons of acknow- ledged taste^ and judgment, for its successful and spirited application of the characters in the original to men of distinguished station in the present day.
The circulation of these verses having been, necessarily, very limited, they are reprinted
y Which explains Mr. Wakefield's allusion to this " Imi- tation," in the preceding chapter.
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226 LIFE OF
in the Appendix, as not unworthy of such pre- servation as can be given by this work.
As the weather became mild and the days lengthened he was tempted to take more exer- cise in the open air. His situation was also rendered less irksome by the prospect, though still distant, of restoration to liberty. Of this he takes notice in the following letter to his daughter.
Dorchester Gaol, Mny 10, 1800, MY DEAR CHILD,
I LEARN with great pleasure the agree- able manner, in which your time passes, and the amusing and instructive society, which you enjoy at Eton. You may assure yourself, that no one circumstance can contribute more to soothe and cheer both your mother's spirits and my own, than these communications of your happiness, and especially in addition to the more satisfactory accounts of your health.
At the conclusion of this month, when the grim term of our confinement no longer stares us in the face, but is pursuing his progress from us down the hillj every day will be re- garded as a conquest, and increase, with ac- celerated rapidity, the current of our satisfac-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 22/
tion. We expect a variety of friends this summer.
It is lamentable that the incommodiousness of this situation should render the presence of every visitor, whom I really value and love, almost an oppression to my spirits: but so it is. Had this family been civilised in any toler- able degree, our residence here under the liberal assistances of our friends, would have proved, comparatively, little else than a tem- porary change of residence. But, altogether, it is but an evil of trivial magnitude, and I should be wholly contented, and even com- fortable, if your mother's fortitude' were equal to my own. Her sympathy in this event en- titles her to every generous and tender atten- tion on my part, through every moment of my future existence in this world.
Remember us most kindly to all our inva- luable friends, and give his mother's love, and mine, to little Gilbert. We shall be eao-er to have him home when the period of our pilgrim- age is run out.
Farewell, my dear child! accept your mo- tlier's ardent love, with that of
Your most affectionate father,
Gilbert Wi^KEFiELD, 2
226 LIFE OF
in the Appendix, as not unwortliy of such pre- servation as can be given by this work.
As the weather became mild and the days lengthened he was tempted to take more exer- cise in the open air. His situation was also rendered less irksome by the prospect, though still distant, of restoration to liberty. Of this he takes notice in the following letter to his daughter.
Dorchester Gaol, Mny 10, 1800. MY DEAR CHILD,
I LEARN witli great pleasure the agree- able manner, in which your time passes, and the amusing and instructive society, which you enjoy at Eton. You may assure yourself, that no one circumstance can contribute more to soothe and cheer both your mother's spirits and my own, than these communications of your happiness, and especially in addition to the more satisfactory accounts of your health.
At the conclusion of this month, when the grim term of our confinement no longer stares US in the face, but is pursuing his progress from us down the hill, every day will be re- garded as a conquest, and increase, with ac- celerated rapidity, the current of our satisfac-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 227
tion. We expect a variety of friends this summer.
It is lamentable that the incommodiousness of this situation should render the presence of every visitor, whom I really value and love, almost an oppression to my spirits: but so it is. Had this family been civilised in any toler- able degree, our residence here under the liberal assistances of our friends, would have proved, comparatively, little else than a tem- porary change of residence. But, altogether, it is but an evil of trivial magnitude, and I should be wholly contented, and even com- fortable, if your mother's fortitude' were equal to my own. Her sympathy in this event en- titles her to every generous and tender atten- tion on my part, through every moment of my future existence in this world.
Remember us most kindly to all our inva- luable friends, and give his mother's love, and mine, to little Gilbert. We shall be eao-er to have him home when the period of our pilgrim- age is run out.
Farewell, my dear child! accept your mo- ther's ardent love, with that of
Your most affectionate father,
Gilbert W^^kefield, 2
228 LIFE OF
Notwithstanding" the unpleasant circum- stance in his situation to which he here again alludes, he was still gratified and enlivened by the society of several of his old friends, some of whom came to visit him from a considerable distance; particularly Mr. Shepherd, of Gate- acre.
It was Mr. Wakefield's constant practice to read with a pencil in his hand, for the oppor- tunity of making marginal observations, of which, indeed, almost every book in his li- brary afforded some proof.
When any material remarks were suggested by the perusal of the works of a living writer of respectability, he would not unfrequently communicate them to the author. This he did with so much candour and delicacy, as not only to avoid giving offence, but frequently to produce a conviction of the justness of his sen- timents, and a desire of still further communi- cations. Such was the case as to the author of the " Botanic Garden," a work which he had lately read, for the first time.
In a letter to his daughter, he says ; '• As Dr. Darwin has lately published his poem in a more purchaseable form, I have bought it, and have read his first volume, which treats of general na- ture, with extraordinary delight, and admiration.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 229
The second volume pleases ii^e less, from an igno- rance of botany, in part, and from an unavoid- able sameness in the subject; though the doc- tor has introduced all the variety that could be expected from taste and genius. Were I intimate with him I should take the liberty of suggesting a ^ew remarks, which might pro- bably induce him to correct, in some instances, a poem destined for immortality."
Notwithstanding his first hesitation, rely- ing upon the candour of the author, he ven- tured to send him some critical remarks on his poem. These were received with that libe- rality and kindness which usually accompany true genius, who, from her large claims upon the admiration of the public, is seldom back- ward to resign those less ably supported. We insert Dr. Darwin's friendly reply to Mr. Wakefield's letter, which accompanied his *' Imitation of Juvenal,"
Derby, August 19, 1800. PEAR. SIR,
I AM much obliged to you for your severe and elegant satire, which you have so good cause to write, who so long have felt the persecution of these flagitious times! When one considers the folly of one great part of mankind, and the villany of another great.
230 LIFE OF
part of them, the whole race seems to sink into contempt.
Thank you, also, for your criticisms on the " Botanic Garden," which shew in you a very great sensibihty to the elegancies of language, which must be shocked M'ith almost all the poetry you meet with. Most of your observa- tions, I believe, are just; yet perhaps the am- biguity from the numbers of the nominative and accusative cases, both of which precede the verb, could not well be altered in the line you mention, as
*' Stay, whose false Up seductive simpers part,"
is not sense, as the word part refers to two lips. But might be thus avoided:
" Stay, whose false lips with smiles seductive part."
I cannot defend myself against many of your other ingenious observations, but think the word " spoke'' more in use amongst po/ire people, than ''spake.'' I esteem it to be an abbreviation of the word spoken. So broke for broken, &c. — In your valuable satire you have written drawee for drke; which, if it eve¥ was in use, is long since superannuated."^
=' We cannot better introduce, than in this place, a few of jyir. Wakefield's remarks on the subject of his deviation from
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 231
I beg leave to repeat, that I am much obliged to you for your observations, and much
the more usual practice of other writers, and which, indeed, apply to almost all his Englifli works.
" Some few peculiarities of English style in this transla- tion [of Dio. Chrysostom] will be noticed, I expect, even by readers not critically minute in their attention to composition. These are, however, more ceremoniously introduced than my strong conviction of their propriety both prompted and might seem to warrant. They will be found strictly consonant to Analogy and Grammar, whose mandates I could not, in every instance, prevail upon myself irreverently to violate. It is certainly high time for our unconstructed and solecistic style to be modelled by the rectitude of their immutable and appli- cable standard, which, sooner or later, must be called in to our assistance, and \yill then essentially impair the beauties and diminish the utilities of our noblest writers, in prose and verse, to future generations. With a view to an execution of this object njy industry has formed some collections, and ex- pended many thoughts : nor shall I cease to lament every day that passes without producing some general purpose, some grand effort of our writers, for the reformation of that lan- guage, which rises daily in estimation on the Continent, and promises fair to become vernacular through the greater por- tion of the transatlantic world. '
Manuscript Preface, originally intended for the trans- lations from Dio Chrysostom.
In the preface to his " Poetical Translations/' he makes a si- ;tnilar remark :
" Some apparent singularities \n the formation of the verbs will not escape the notice, and, perhaps, the censure, of the reader; but the translator believes I hem strictly analo-
234 LIFE OF
tiious minds most cherishing and pleasant; es- pecially when a corroborating testimony to our own convictions."
*' In Latin you cannot read a more in- structive book than Quintilian. All his notions on education are correct and judicious; the result of sound reflexion and long experience. By the titles of his chapters, you will best dis- cover those topics most agreeable to your taste ; but his first chapter of book x, wliich characterises the comparative merits of the Greek and Roman writers, is superlatively ex- cellent, and conveys the most interesting in- formation, in union with criticism the most exact. Good sense, impartiality of decision, nervous, and expressive language, \vith a reli- gious purity of sentiment on all moral topics, jx^rvade every line of his masterly " Institu- tions,"
The unreserved language in which Juvenal indulo-ed himself on all occasions, forms a most exceptionable part of his character, and ren- ders him quite ineligible without selection and great circumspection. To the pure, indeed, as the apostle very justly and intelligibly ob- serves, all things are pure. But his xiii, xiv, and XV Satires contain many precepts of sub- lime morality, and may be read not only with delight, but moral improvement. The conclu-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 235
sion of each of the two latter is eminently beautiful.
In Xenophoris work — his Education of the Elder Cyrus— rno story of ancient or modern literature exceeds in pathos the episodical re- lation of Abradates and Panthea; if we ex- cept only the narrative of Joseph and his brethren. In that no distresses and catas- trophe of lovers are intermixed (on which the pathetic circumstances of interesting histories are generally grounded); and this absence, in a picture of such powerful emotions from pa- rental and fraternal sensibilities alone, confers a superiority on this simple domestic story above every other within my knowledge.
You might have spared yourself much un- easiness on account of the men condemned here : they were reprieved for transportation. The love of capital punishments in the legisla- ture seems to have subsided lately, throughout the kingdom.
About ten days ago the gout collected it- self in the forefinger of my right hand, and almost disabled me from writing for several days. The swelhng has now subsided, and, to keep the enemy from my stomach, I am under a sumptuous course of luxury. I drink one glass of Madeira before I go to bed; and have
236 LIFE OF
engaged so to proceed till I have exhausted the bottle. Surely I shall not contract a habit of drinking by this indulgence/
Your mother unites with me in affectionate regards to yourself, and the family who so kindly entertains you.
My dear child,
Ever yours,
Gilbert Wakefield.
Among his literary occupations during the summer and autumn of this year, he formed a design of drawing up several small tracts, chiefly on subjects connected with theological enquiries. The absence of his library, that perpetual theme of his regret, compelled him to relinquish the hope of completing them dur- ins: his confinement.
He remarks in a letter, " With respect to my theological M^orks, all of them, without ex- ception, you may depend upon me for com- pleting, in a competent time after my libera- tion, God willing, without procrastination or excuse of any kind : but I must meditate on the most frugal way of going to work in the
* Excepting when recommended in a medicinal point of view, he could rarely, at any time, be prevailed upon to take even a single glass of wine.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 23/
printing of them, such as more ordinary paper and few copies, from nearly a certainty of barely indemnifying my expences at most. I must also, I believe, put some restraint upon myself in the article of presents: for really if every friend who ought to receive a copy, should re- ceive one, the whole edition would disappear by that method of disposal: a consideration very exhilarating to me as a man, but unpro- ductive as an author.'''
He was likewise engaged at this time in preparing and arranging materials for a v\^ork on similar topics, but of much larger compass and more elaborate execution. He enter- tained great hopes that this work would prove of extensive utility, and be acceptable to all who value correct and rational views of reli- gion. The title was to have been " A Scrip- ture Lexicon," and the object will be best stated in his own words, from an unfinished and rough sketch of an intended preface.
" My design in this work, a design which I have not been able to accomplish in a man- ner correspondent to my wishes, or the work would have been of incomparable importance, was by an induction of passages, and a gradual progress from texts of a simple and indisput- able character to those more obscure and cgm-
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plex, to lead the reader to a satisfactory eluci- dation of the greatest difficulties in the Scrip- tures of the Nezv Testament^ and to inure him upon incontrovertible principles to such a liberality and latitude of interpretation as "vvould pi'oduce, in time, an uniformity of opi- nion on the most sublime and important doc- trines, and compose those controversies which have engendered every species of animositv, intolerance, and persecution.
" The lively imagery, the emblematical contexture, the strong metaphors, the unqua- lified injunctions, and the bold peculiarities of Oriental phraseology, have thrown a veil over the oracles of salvation, which only some inter- preter, initiated into the discipline of universal philology, is calculated to remove.
" Explanations most rational, and unexcep- tionable in themselves, can never gain accept- ance with unlearned readers but from that progressive confluence of illustration M'hich I am now attempting to direct, on peculiar dif- ficulties, from the current of scripture phrase- ology; especially when article-manufacturers, creed-mongers, subscription-dealers, are pre- pared to pronounce every interpretation forced and unnatural, if it appear unfriendly to the mysteries of their tutelary goddess, Diana
OF THE EpHESIANS."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 239
This work, though the aiitlior more parti- cularly designed it for the less learned reader, would have been, by no means, uninteresting to professed Biblical scholars. The utility and importance of such a plan few of any know- ledge on the subject will be inclined to deny, or to dispute Mr. Wakefiekrs qualification for the competent execution of it.
But the hindrances of which he had before complained occurred on this occasion, and eventually obstructed the completion of his purpose by obliging him to defer it to a period which, alas I never arrived.
In the letter lately quoted, he observes, in reference to the * Scripture Lexicon," — " To attempt to complete such an undertaking here would be alike injustice to myself and to the public. All my books are necessary, and others, probably, of which I am not in posses- sion even when restored to my library." He likewise much regretted the dearth of literary conversation.
This object appears to have frequently oc- cupied his thoughts, and he had collected a very considerable number of difficult texts and obscure phrases, arranged under distinct heads, evidently intended to be still further enlarged upon and improved. The unfinished
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state in which these papers were left prevents us from bringing them before those to whom, from similarity of taste, they would have been highly acceptable.
During the latter part of this year he was more than usually eager in the prosecution of Ills' studies. In September, he writes " I am very studious ; endeavouring to convert the curse into a blessing, by persevering in much very unpleasant, but necessary and profitable labour."
A few weeks afterwards, he again writes, " I have scarcely ever been so well for a con- tinuance as lately : up to the ears in my studies, and making some particular disco- veries with respect to the measures of the Greek poets." Many of the critical observa- tions to which he here refers were, in the fol- lowing spring, communicated to the public in his " Noctes Carcerari^e.'"'
The object of this work is explained in the introduction. He there states, that he had long entertained the project of publishing the
•* Noctes Carcerarlae ; sive de leglbus metricis poetarum Grsecorum qui versibus hexametris scripserunt, disputatio."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 241
principal writers of heroic verse among the Greeks. On the perusal of their M^orks for this purpose, he perceived that, in the accom- pHshment of it, much expence of time and labour might be spared by the previous esta- blishment of some clear and definite laws, de- rived from the common usage of the poets, if such laws existed. By an attention to these, occasional errors and deviations, necessarily in- cident to writings of this high antiquity, might probably be corrected.
It is likely that the learned world would have been favoured, had Mr. Wakefield's life been prolonged, with a new and improved edi- tion of this pamphlet. He has left behind him an interleaved copy, with many insertions evi- dently intended for this purpose.
At the end of this Avork, he announces his intention of shortly publishing a treatise, which might be considered as supplementary, on the use of the digamma in the prosody of Homer. This, though he had made material corrections on the subject, he did not live to complete.
The interest Avith which Mr. Wakefield re- garded the situation of his fellow-prisoners, and his desire to alleviate their sufferings, we have had occasion to mention more than once. In his correspondence with his intimate friends
VOL. II. R
242 LIFE OF
he frequently related any little incidents that affected them, in a manner, which proved how much
" Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distrest." ••
This sufficiently appears from the follow- ing passage in a letter to his daughter about this period:
" Occasionally some events occur here
which give us great pleasure. S and
Q , the shoemaker, were set at liberty
four or five days ago; and it is not possible for any one, who has not experienced some- thing of similar suffering, to form any concep- tion of their happiness in a deliverance from imprisonment.
*' I remember when came to see
me at Hackney a day or two after his dis- charge from a two years' confinement in Clerkenwell Bastile, he spoke of his feelings as not to be described. He seemed lost in the world: his head was giddy by the immensity of the scenery around him, and he almost doubted, whether he was not too much be- wildered to find his way back to town.
told me, that the mutineers in the
Bastile, who were more closely shut up than the rest, seemed like men bereaved of their
*" Goldsmith,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 243
senses ; and the evil of a close exclusion from tlie world is such, as leads every one confined here for any length of time, even two years, to prefer hanging to such a sentence.
" These facts lead me to wonder that Kos- ciusko, La Fayette, and others, if their seclu- sion were as strict and gloomy as general ru- mour leads us to suppose, should have come out with the preservation of their senses.
" H and M , who confidently
expected their liberation at the same time with
S — and Q , have incurred a most
cruel disappointment ; and begin to lose all hopes of a speedy deliverance from the re- mainder of their term. M was ready
to sink under his misfortune. It is now more
than a twelvemonth since Mr. promised
his exertions in their favour; and his failure can be ascribed to nothing but a supineness and indifference, which is barbarous beyond his suspicions: because no state can possibly , be imao-ined more miserable to these men than a perpetual hope of deliverance at any uncer- tain time; and they have often said, at a time when they might expect their release daily, that they should prefer a knowledge of the day, if even at a year's distance, to that state of anxiety, which, at the Avorst, could not contemplate a longer confinement than a year. 2
244 LIFE OF
Indeed the encreasing impatience of the pri- soners, in proportion to the diminution of their
term, is remarkable ; and F informs me
of his pecuhar restlessness and fretfulness to- Avards the termination of his period."
At the close of the letter, alluding to his own situation, he adds, — " For myself, my spirits were never better, and they will con- tinue so if your mother continues as cheerful as she has appeared since the conclusion of our uncertainty about my lodging; but my appetite for study has entirely left me within this fortnight, and when it will return is very uncertain; partly from want of more books, and partly from want of recreation abroad. This not only gives me uneasiness, as making the lapse of time more tedious, but deprives me of the satisfaction which would arise from a re- trospect of a more profitable transition of it."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 245
CHAP. xn.
Mr. IFakefield's Letters to his Daughter — Attendance on four condemned Criminals — Letters from, the Rev. Dr. Parr and the Rev. Dr. Geddes — His Release from the Gaol.
1801.
In the spring of the year 1801, a more striking opportunity, than had yet occurred, presented itself of evincing the strength of Mr. Wakefield's sympathy with the distresses of those immediately around him. This cir- cumstance forms the principal subject of the following letter to his daughter;
Porchester Gaol, March 17, 1801. MY DEAR GIRL,
It so happens that I am preparing to write a few lines to you upon your birth-day; which by an unusual occurrence was present to my recollection more punctually than to your mother's. We hope many a repetition of this anniversary to your life in health and peace; and that the next return of it may be celebrated with domestic congratulations un-
246 LIFE OF
der more favourable circumstances to us all, than the present juncture.
'' The assizes here ended last w eek ; and the number of criminals exceeded that of any- former occasion. Thirteen, I think, were condemned, and four are left for execution, three of whom have never been in a o-aol be- fore. They are now undergoing the previous torture of cold solitary cells, heavy irons, Av^ith bread and water, to continue existence, rather than sustain life.
It is not easy to determine which sensation, is predominant; that of pity or indignation: of pity for miserable objects, with every temp- tation to commit offences, and no opportu- nities of instruction in the principles of happi- ness and virtue; or of indignation at those institutions, which doom to death unfriended culprits, Avhose transgressions are co7??para- twely trivial, whilst the great delinquents in society are enjoying themselves in prosperity and pomp, without a single thought for the comfort and welfare of the indigent, who are thus resigned to the almost unavoidable ef- fects of poverty and ignorance.
My languor and indisposition did not at all arise from restless impatience on the near ap- proach of our liberation, on which I think
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. U7
with satisfaction, chiefly as a deliverance from tyranny and insolence; expecting, when we ai'e free, too many cares and anxieties.
After our affectionate remembrance to all your friends, receive, M^ith the truest wishes of affection from your mother and sister, the most cordial expressions of love and solicitude from your father,
Gilbert Wakefielp.
The case of these condemned criminals very much interested his feelings, already op- pressed by the dangerous, and at length fatal ^ illness of his youngest child. On application to the magistrates he obtained permission to visit them in their solitary cells, and exerted himself to the utmost in preparing their minds for the awful fate which awaited them.
Their desponding melancholy, when he first visited them, was great beyond expres- sion. But his intimate knowledge of human nature enabled him to enter fully into their situation, and to communicate such instruc- tion, and open to them such views as their previous extreme ignorance would allow. Here he endeavoured to put in practice, as far as his situation would permit, those methods of influencing the mind by kindness and persua- sion, which he so strenuously enforced, as the
248 LIFE OF
only rational mode of attempting the reforma- tion of criminals/
He was highly gratified by observing the good effects of his attentions, and soon had the happiness to perceive, that
" to each cell, a mild, yet mournful guest.
*' Contrition came, and still'd the beating breast."*
Such was the result of his affectionate treatment of these unhappy men that they became at length perfectly composed and re- signed to their fate, which all of them suffered with the most entire firmness and decent reso- lution.
Under the impression of these circum- stances, Mr. Wakefield again wrote to his daughter.
Dorchester Gaol, March . . , 1801, MY DEAR CHILD,
Another melancholy event has agitated our feelings during the last week: the e:}i.ecutioii
«* See this sentiment particularly inculcated in the " Ad- dress to the Judges," printed in the Appendix.
* Bowles.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 249
of four men for robberies. I felt an unusual interest in their situation; and as they were extremely ignorant, I was desirous that some attention should be paid them beyond the formal and unimpassioned duties of the chap- lain.
The time was short, but I obtained leave from the magistrates to visit them, and was with them five different times. I employed the opportunities to the utmost capacity of their attention and understanding; and I en- joyed the satisfaction of perceiving, as well as learning from the reports of their attendants, that their minds, in consequence of my in- structions and admonitions, from a rambling and confused sense of things, soon settled into that serenity of resignation, and decency of firmness, which their situation required.
It is universally allowed, that no men ever met death with more tranquil resolution, than these poor creatures. Nay, one who had been uncommonly dismayed at first, and had ex- pected a reprieve, declared himself so resigned to suffer death, as to feel no desire of deliver- ance ; and they welcomed the summons to the execution with a readiness, and even cheerful^ ness, that commanded the admiration of the beholders; whose lamentations and sorrows, and mine among the rest, formed a striking
250 LIFE OF
contrast to their steadiness, silence, and ma?- nanimity."^
I remain, my dear. Your most affectionate father and friend,
Gilbert Wakefield.
To have witnessed such a scene as he has here described would, under any circum- stances, have made a deep impression on.
*■ The following passage on this interesting snbject is ex- tracted from Mr. Wakefield's papers, written at Dorchester
Gaol:
" My parting address to the four men, whom I had at- tended five times previous to their execution on March 28, 1801.
' May the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort, who raised from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, that all who believe in his name might hope for the future mercies of his father, even unto eternal lifej — may that God who delights not in the death of a sinner, and has promised to receive all who return to him with unfeigned repentance; — that God who can do for us abundantly above all that we ask or think; — may he support your spirits under the painful struggle that is approaching ; — may he listen to your prayer in your dying mo- ments; may he cheer your hearts with a comfortable prospect of his forgiveness, and conduct you through the grave, and gate of death, to a joyful resurrection.'
" No men, it was universally allowed, could meet their unntimely death with more manly dignity, with more firm composure ; with intrepidity, not contemptuous and daring, but sedate and resolute."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 23V
Mr. Wakefield's mind. His sensibility on this occasion was heiohtened by a domestic aftlic- tion, to -which mc have already alluded, and which took place within a few days of the event just noticed. The state of his mind under this calamity discovers itself in his let- ters, and was not a little aggravated by his solitary situation. " Alas !" says he to a friend, " since I wrote to you before, our little fellow has been taken from us. Last Sunday morning, about six o'clock, he de- parted from the world, and has occasioned a pressure of affliction to his mother, sister, and myself, which it might appear an ostentation of sorrow to describe in correspondence to it's reality.^ A severe trial! increased by alter- nate hopes, and indeed, clear prospects, of re- covery."
In the following letter to his daughter he
s This was a trial to which he had never yet been sub- jected, and the very possibility of which he could not contem- plate without dismay. This sentiment is discernible even in the incidental mention of a similar calamity which befel one
of his friends at Dorchester. " Mrs. 's last child," says
he, " to all appearance in fine health, was seized yesterday with spasms in the stomach, and died soon after; an event which has given me very deep concern. Such a loss, thank God! I have never yet suffered; a loss which would almost overset me."
a52 LIFE OF
de&cribes the distress which this event brought upon himself and Mrs.Wakefiekl :
Dorchester Gaol, March 29, 1801. MY DEAR CHILD,
Mr. H , I hope, has had an op- portunity of seeing you, and preparing your mind for that melancholy intelligence, which it is now my office to communicate. This dear little creature, so repeatedly the most anxious object of our hopes .and fears, could be retained no longer in this world by a de- gree of solicitude and watchfulness in his medical and domestic attendants, that was never exceeded in any human beings to an- other: he left us about six o'clock this
morn I no;.
Some internal complaint, incurable and unknown, has been long preying upon his life, and his relapses, after apparent convalescence, made us at length wholly despair of his reco- very to health and strength: so that his re- lease became desirable, as the lesser of two great evils.
When I reflect on the trials which your mother has undergone in constantly witnessing the cruel torments of this little angel, in her
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 253
solitary condition, without that support and consolation which my presence might have contributed ; and when I recollect the rap- tures with which she has told me of his per- sonal allurements, and the dawnings of his un- derstanding; I feel for her a degree of sym- pathy which no words are able to express : but we have resigned ourselves, I trust, to this bitter cup, as salutary in its effects, though pain- ful in its operation; and console ourselves under a persuasion, that life so protracted, without effectual relief, could only have proved a prolongation of torment to himself, with un- ceasing disquietude and unavailing commiser- ation to us all.
*' We who survive, my dear child! muisft make a proper use of this calamitous event iu redoubling our affectionate attentions to each other, and in preparing ourselves by every act of reciprocal benevolence to smooth our mutual sorrows through the remainder of our pilgrimage, that we may live and die in the exercise of all kind offices, and the cultivation of every friendly sentiment with ourselves, and all our connections.'""
h This sentiment is well expressed by Sir Henry Wotton. Lamenting, in a letter to a friend, " the departure out of the world" of a person' " who," says he, " was dearer to me than
254 , . LIFE OF
Adieu! my dear girl ! and may we all learn; not only to acquiesce in our afflictions, but to rejoice and glory in them Avith the Apostle, as merciful dispensations of God towards us for our improvement in holiness and virtue.
Your dearest mother and sister affection- ately remember you : and convey our kind remembrances to all our relations and friends.
I remain Your most affectionate father,
Gilbert Wakefield.
We are very happy in having it in our power, by the kind permission of Dr. Parr, to insert a letter written to Mr. Wake field, with all the warmth of friendship, in the former part of which he alludes to his late affliction.
MY DEAR AND LEARNED FRIEND,
I CONDOLE with you on the loss you have lately sustained. To the latest hour of my life I shall remember the agony I mj'self
mine own being in it. Let us therefore," he adds, " that yet remain here, as our days and friends waste, reinforce our love to each other; which of all virtues, both spiritual and moral, hath the highest privilege, because death itself cannot end it;"
Zouch's Walton, p. 170.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 253
suffered for the death of a child; and your sensihihty, I am well aware, is quite as keen as my own. Let me hope however, that be- fore this time, you and Mrs. Wakefield have nearly recovered your spirits.
Grieved should I be if at the close of a te- dious, and, without meaning irreverence to the laws, I would add, most unmerited con- finement, you should meet with any obstacle to your happiness; for happy you will be on your return to society, where so many wise and good men are preparing to welcome you with so much sincerity, and so much warmth. It is my lot to share with you in the im- perfections that belong to such a creature as man, from his ardour in the defence of prin- ciples, Avhich he believes to be not only true but important. But when I contemplate the whole extent of your character, I see in you, and seeing I must revere, the disinterested- ness of a patriot, the purity of a Christian, and the magnanimity of a martyr.
In the number of contributions which you have made to literature and to theology, you far surpass all your countrymen now living; and although attainments such as yours will provoke much envy, and writings such as yours, on difficult and profound subjects, must
25G LIFE OF .
contain some mistakes, yet, dear Sir, I am glad to find that foreign scholars,' as well as the majority of our learned countrymen, are impressed with the same sense of your excel- lence, which, as a man of letters, I have my- self long entertained.
Indeed, Mr. Wakefield, my thoughts are often turned towards you; nor does any man living either profess or feel more respect for your talents and erudition, more affection for your virtues, more sorrow for your sufferings, or more indignation against your calumniators. May you soon be delivered from your present situation, and, pursuing your literary labours without interruption, may you lead the rest of your life in perfect tranquillity and honourable independence. Such are the unfeigned wishes of my heart.
I rejoice in the opportunity of doing some little homage to your intellectual and moral worth by the present of my sermon,*" and what- ever opinion you may form of it as a compo- sition, I hope you will give me credit for hav- ing written it in the spirit of a Christian,
^ See the letters of Professors Heyne and Jacobs, in the Appendix.
' " A Spital Sermon, preached at Christchurch, upon Easter Tuesday, April 15, 1800.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 257
and for having published it with such inten- tions.
BeHeve me,
Dear Sir, Most truly, your friend and obedient servant,
S. Parr.
Hatton, May 14, 1801.
A few weeks before Mr. Wakefield received this testimony of esteem and affection, of which he so well understood the value, his restora- tion to society had been fondly anticipated by another literary friend.
Dr. Geddes addressed to him the following* letter, which, while it well describes the re- straints on the free communication of senti- ment, produced by the spirit of Mr. Pitt's ad- ministration, is a proof of the writer's attach- ment to one whom he, too soon, " called his muse to mourn;" and Avhom, to the loss of re- ligion and learning, he quickly followed to the grave :''
A VERY severe illness, my dear Sir, has prevented me from sooner acknowledging your two kind and friendly letters.
k Dr. Geddes wrote a copy of Latin verses on hearing of Mr. Wakefield's death, while he was himself confined to his house, by the disorder which soon terminated his valuable life.
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I once had some parts of your Sylva, but a friend from the country robbed me of them: but I have long intended to have the whole, before I should come to the last revisal of my New Testament, to which the greater part of your remarks, I observed, seemed to relate.
I shall take the first opportunity to shake hands with your publisher, and shew him your obliging order.'
And now I look impatiently forward to that day in which I shall have the pleasure of shak- ing hands with yourself.
0! qui complexus, et gaudia quanta.
My last volume has, by the German critics, been received with the greatest applause, but you will soon see me, here, torn in pieces by the hands of bigotry and sciolism, in a most nefarious manner. — I long to see your Noctes Carcerarice.
I have lately written, in verse, an epistle to
— , but no one dares to print it, and I
am now, although yet a poor valetudinarian, writing a pamphlet on the Ema?2cipation, as it is termed, of the Irish Catholics, which I fear, also, no one will print.
^ For a copy of tlie " Sylva Critica."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 259
What a horrible situation are we not in? All Europe is laughing at our folly, our mad- ness, above all, at our unparalleled illiberality.
Adieu, my dear suffering friend, and be- lieve me to be ever your's,
Alex. Geddes.
Alsop's Buildings, April 14, 1801.
The period of Mr. Wakefield's restoration to liberty was now rapidly approaching, and the preparations for his return to the neigh- bourhood of London occupied the remaining days of his imprisonment.
He had long projected the delivery of a Classical Lecture immediately on his liberation. To this scheme he refers in the followino- letter to one of the present writers.
Dorchester Gaol, Mays, 1801. MY DEAR FRIEND,
Your apologies for supposed inatten- tion and delay are all substantial and satisfac- tory; and no blame is ever previously imputed to you by my own imagination.
I am of opinion that we should advertise the Lectures; but still, I was not desirous of
2
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this measure till we were certain of no obstacle in the way of my liberation: for, though I Cannot presuppose such impediment, a failure, after advertisement, would be very awkward.
And now, only reflect a moment on the bare possibility of my exhibition on the second of June.'"
I go out on Friday, for aught that yet ap- pears, not early in the day. My books, valu- able, and witli my notes, I must pack up care- fully, after I get out. So that, if I set off on the next morning, which is almost impracti- cable, I could but have an interval of one day between my arrival at Hackney, and the lec- tures, without the power of returning even a call to those friends here, who have so much alleviated my solitude by their various civili- ties, and their regular visits. Would this be proper?
Again : scarcely a soul leaves this place without illness from the transition — silence and solitude, to noise, variety, and bustle — and all this in London! Though I feel no particular emotion on the prospect of this event, and ex- pect to feel as little as any man on its arrival, my knowledge of its effects on others will not
m The day first fixed for the commencement of his Lec- tures in London.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. ;i6i
allow me to presume on an entire exemption fi'om these inconveniences.
In short, it is highly probable, that such a degree of delirious perturbation, from the no- velty of every appearance, will ensue, as would entirely disqualify any man for a collected dis- charge of such an office before an audience, which, in any case, could not be addressed •without an entire sobriety, and concentration of the faculties.
Indeed, the whole scheme might be over- set by that species of derangement, which all my reflection may be unable to palliate, and which nothing can keep off but a gradual re- concilement to the tumult, and varieties of common life. This trial of transition is ag- gravated, in my case, by the number and value of my friends, added to my restoration to a part of my family after so long an ab- sence.
I have found myself in a precarious situa- tion, these three or four last days, with my old complaint in my shoulder, for the third or fourth time since my confinement, so that I have had recourse to my opium; and am rather better to-day.
We are all, as ever, yours,
Gilbert Wakefield.
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Soon after he wrote to his daughter, now on a visit at Nottingham^ the following letter. It was the last she received from him during his imprisonment.
Dorchester Gaol, May 23, 1801. MY DEAR ANN,
I HEAR to-day from my lawyer that I must not go out before the 30th. If this be no mistake, and I have written about it this day, it may be regarded as one of those little embarrassments, which I have suspected, as well as you, might possibly interrupt the joy of our approaching deliverance. One day is now of importance, both because the time of my lectures is fixed, and because we have much packing up of books, and furniture to dispatch, during our short stay at this place.
We mean to see Lord Pembroke's and Stone- henge, on our return, and to go through JVin- Chester.
It would have given us great pleasure to
have fallen in with Mr. H 's plan; but I
wish to take an excursion with your mother, yourself and sister, through Cambridge and Lincoln to Nottingham, after my lectures; and thence, inclination, as well as duty, will lead
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 263
US to Stockport and Lwerpool: but these grand schemes must be suspended for future deHber- ation.
It is very satisfactory information to me, that my letters have contributed so much to your enjoyment during absence from us. I certainly, in writing them, had an immediate view to your gratification.
There certainly can be no objection, in any view, to the attendance of ladies on my lec- tures: had there been any, I could not have wished yourself and your sister to be present.
As my books are mostly sent away, and my mind entirely directed to other objects than study, my time passes more languidly and wearisomely, than at any period since my con- finement; and, indeed, the absence of Mr. " has been attended with more regret
than many would suppose; but the regular society of a fellow-creature was always highly valued by me.
One consolation of no ordinary kind, with which my solitude has been cheered, is the
" One of the debtors, of whom Mr. Wakefield had taken »'ery kind notice, and who had been lately liberated.
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many testimonials, by letter, of condolence and affection from correspondents regular or occasional, so eminently respectable for their accomplishments of the understanding, and the heart.
Give our respectful and affectionate re- membrances to Mrs. Mr. and Miss H — ,
and our best love to your aunt, uncle, and cousins. Your mother and sister join in the tenderest wishes for your health and happiness, no less, my dear girl ! than
Your loving father and friend,
Gilbert Wakefield.
Mr. Wakefield quitted Dorchester Gaol on Friday, May 29, 1801, " after an abode of two 7/ears,^' as he remarks, '' in a room on which the sun never shone, and within walls, whose height almost excluded his rays from the area of the prison."
He had previously complied with that part of his sentence which obliged him to " give security for his good behaviour for the term of five years ; himself in the sum of £500) with two sufficient sureties in £9.50 each." In sharing with him this last infliction of judicial severity, one of the present writers had the gratification of joining Mr. Barclay, M. P. for Bridport, with whom Mr. Wakefield had be-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 265
come acquainted, on undertaking the educa- tion of one of his sons.
It would be unjust to the well-known senti- ments and feelings of Mr. Wakefield, did we forbear to acknowledge his obligations to this gentleman, who, besides his kind liberality to him before his removal to Dorchester, ex- pressed his regard by various accommodations, continued through the whole term of our friend's imprisonment.
266 LIFE OF
CHAP. XIII.
Mr. IFakefietd's Application in Behalf of the Prisoners'— Observations on the Regulations of the Prison, isfc. from his miscellaneous Papers.
1801.
Mr. Wakefield remained a few days at Dorchester, to pay his respects to those friends from whom he had received so many civilities. He also made an attempt to serve the cause of humanity, which, if it appeared at first to fail, was perhaps, eventually, not quite unsuc- cessful.
The happiness which he experienced on returning to the bosom of his family, did not withdraw his thoughts from the misery of those whom he had left behind, in the gaol. He immediately made an application to the superintending magistrates in behalf of the prisoners.
In this appeal, conscious of the integrity of his motives for undertaking so invidious a task, he fearlessly stated grievances and abuses, of which he reasonably supposed the magis-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 267
trates to be ignorant, but which had come under liis own observation, or had been con- firmed to him by the frequent and united tes- timony of the prisoners themselves.
These grievances and abuses, of which his knowledge was not derived from personal ob- servation, were stated to him by a large num- ber of the suiFerers, and the communication was quite of their oxvn accord. For Mr. Wakefield, to avoid giving the slightest ground of mis- trust and jealousy to the magistrates, was reli- giously scrupulous never, in any instance, to suggest motives of discontent, or dissatisfac- tion to the prisoners.
The reason why his manly efforts were now unsuccessful may be easily discovered. The prisoners themselves, still subjected to the will of those whom they had accused, were his only witnesses. Such persons, from whom nothing of the spirit of martyrdom could be expected, not unnaturally, declined to substan- tiate before the magistrates those representa- tions of their treatment, with which they had interested Mr. Wakefield in their behalf.
By an extract of a letter from a gentleman in that neiglibourhood, written some time after our friend's death, we are enabled to shew the impression which his conduct left on the mind of a highly respectable person, and
268 LIFE OF
an eye-witness of the whole transaction, wliosc name, for ohvious reasons, we do not feel our- selves at liberty to bring forward.
*' There was one part of Mr. Wakefield's conduct," he remarks, '' which impressed my mind strongly with an idea of the greatness of his character, and which manifested clearly a mind ahove every selfish consideration; fully determined to do that M^hich appeared to him to be his duty, without regarding the calumny which he knew his conduct would furnish his enemies with an opportunity of casting on his motives : I mean, his application to the ma- gistrates of the county in behalf of the pri- soners, immediately on his leaving the prison.
" He entered the lists alone, in the face of the gaoler, his son, and the leading men of the county. His only witnesses were the prisoners themselves, who, from motives of fear, would not substantiate those grievances of which they had previously complained. However, he ob- tained the end by stirring up the gentlemen of the county to a greater attention, and thus in some measure promoting the comfort of the prisoners.
" What had previously passed between the gaoler and our friend being well known, such conduct would be easily imputed to revenge,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 269
and the idea of such an imputation would have deterred many good men from the arduous undertaking. But nothing could damp the ardour, or stifle the zeal of this champion in the cause of humanity."
It appears from an examination of Mr. Wakefield's miscellaneous papers, which con- sist, in a great measure, of mere hints to assist his memory, that he designed to give a large account of the defects in the management of prisons, and the treatment of prisoners, grounded upon the observations he had made during his abode in Dorchester Gaol.
Among these papers, is a rough sketch of an intended introduction to such an account, in which he thus expresses himself:
" As I regard my late prosecution as eventually proving a signal blessing to myself in various respects, in the confirmation of my sentiments, the melioration of my heart, and the improvement of my fortune: so my expe- rience, I hope, has enabled me to benefit the community, by pointing out the calamities, which oppress a numerous and unhappy class of our fellow-subjects.
" All that I have written as of my own knowledge, Simplicity has dictated, Truth and Candour have presided over it, and Conscience
270 LIFE OF
ratifies it with her sanction. Where severity of language has been employed, reformation, not exasperation, Av^as the object; the good of man, not private animosity, was the motive."
We should have been not a little gratified had Mr. Wakefield followed up his design by leaving a regular, authenticated, statement on this most important subject, for want of which we are obliged to pass over many alledged in- stances of defective regulation, of which his recollection would, doubtless, have furnished him with the proper proofs and illustrations.
His walks being confined, for two years, within the walls of a prison, he had opportu- nities of MHtnessing scenes of misery, of which the world at large never think, and with which, probably, even justices themselves seldom, if ever, become personallij acquainted, especially where, as in this place, their visits are usually at stated periods, well known to the officers of the prison.
Mr. Wakefield complains that ** magistrates never confer with the prisoners themselves, make no enquiries of them under an assurance that their situation shall not be rendered worse for their sincerity and openness. All accounts are taken from the gaoler, on trust; and a man may be set down in his books as disor-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 271
derly, locked up for days, at the will of the gaoler, and shut up in a stone cell without fire, and any human intercourse; because he he has found fault, perhaps, with his provision." Of this latter grievance he further remarks, *' When I reflect upon my own feelings, in o-loomy weather, during my confinement, with a temper naturally cheerful, and abundant food of meditation from books, connections and past transactions of an eventful life, I wonder that men can endure soiitari) imprison- ment without distraction, melancholy, and de- spair.
" So horrible an evil, so repugnant to the na- ture of man, and the plan of Pi^ovidence, could never be prescribed by any man, but one alike iQ-norant of the human character, and the di- vine economy."
This solitary confinement, through a con- siderable portion of their time, he describes as inflicted by the regulations of the place, on the prisoners in general, even when there is no charge of disorderly behaviour against them.
*' During four winter months, as their time of confinement in their cells is dated from the decline of day, their solitude in darkness varies from fifteen to sixteen hours. Surely such an annihilation from active life is highly
272
LIFE OF
ii
criminal, and an offence against the dispensa- tion of our Creator, who has appointed our sojournment here as a period of preparation for futurity."
He was not, however, by any means, in- sensible to the serious evils of association among prisoners, without regular instruction and employment, on which he has these re- marks : — " A crying sin, in these gaols, is the habit of idleness, which they confirm, or pro- duce. During the period of from one to eight months, before trial at least, they have no em- ployment, beyond occasional labours at the water-engine; but saunter about, lie down asleep, or waste their hours in such unedifying conversation as men grossly ignorant may be supposed to entertain with each other. Such is the case also with the debtors, almost with- out exception. The minds of these prisoners are, in general, deeply imprinted with the plough of adversity and sorrow, but there is no seasonable husbandman to scatter on the furrows the seeds of virtue."
'' Kind usage to mollify the heart, and good instruction to illuminate the understand- ing, are the wise, and only rational, means of reformation; severe treatment, without any attempt at removing gross ignorance, (the al- most universal ceconomy of these gaols) hardens
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GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
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their inhabitants, and prepare them for addi- tional outrage to society."
From a deep conviction of the truth of these principles, he often lamented that he had not permission to communicate instruction to his fellow-prisoners, from time to time, suited to their v^arious capacities, at a season when entire seclusion from the M^orld, and its temp- tations, might well be expected
" To leave them leisure to be good."
Under the same impressions he observes, *' I attended the Church-Service, occasionally, at Dorchester Gaol, though I never attend it elsewhere: being not only willing to counte- nance the ignorant in the seriousness of devo- tion, but fond of encouraging the poor and MTctched by an equality of association with them. I can truly say that I felt a pleasure and pride in making myself equal to these despised men of the earth, beyond what such an association with their superiors could have excited in my bosom.
*' My sensations of compassion and amaze- ment are not to be described at the sight of forty or Jifty men, and eight or ten wome??, here collected together. Great God! said I, to see a wretched and forsaken portion of my fellow-creatures thus excluded from society,
VOL. II, T
27i LIFE OF
criminal, and an offence against the dispensa- tion of our Creator, who has appointed our sojournment here as a period of preparation for futurity."
He was not, however, by any means, in- sensible to the serious evils of association among prisoners, without regular instruction and employment, on which he has these re- marks : — " A crying sin, in these gaols, is the habit of idleness, which they confirm, or pro- duce. During the period of from one to eight months, before tibial at least, they have no em- ployment, beyond occasional labours at the water-engine; but saunter about, lie down asleep, or waste their hours in such unedifying conversation as men grossly ignorant may be supposed to entertain with each other. Such is the case also with the debtors, almost with- out exception. The minds of these prisoners are, in general, deeply imprinted with the plough of adversity and sorrow, but there is no seasonable husbandman to scatter on the furrows the seeds of virtue."
*' Kind usage to mollify the heart, and good instruction to illuminate the understand- ing, are the wise, and only rational, means of reformation; severe treatment, without any attempt at removing gross ignorance, (the al- most universal oeconomy of these gaols) hardens
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 2^3
their inhabitants, and prepare them for addi- tional outrage to society."
From a deep conviction of the truth of these principles, he often lamented that he had not permission to communicate instruction to his fellow-prisoners, from time to time, suited to their various capacities, at a season when entire seclusion from the world, and its temp- tations, might well be expected
" To leave them leisure to be good."
Under the same impressions he observes, *' I attended the Church-Service^ occasionally, at Dorchester Gaol, though I never attend it elsewhere: being not only willing to counte- nance the ignorant in the seriousness of devo- tion, but fond of encouraging the poor and wretched by an equality of association with them. I can truly say that I felt a pleasure and pride in making myself equal to these despised men of the earth, beyond what such an association with their superiors could have excited in my bosom.
*' My sensations of compassion and amaze- ment are not to be described at the sight of forty or Jifty men, and eight or ten wome??, here collected together. Great God! said I, to see a wretched and forsaken portion of my fellow-creatures thus excluded from society,
VOL. II, T
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and all those endearing connections Arliich '' cheer and soften life," many of them for crimes of comparative insignificance! When there is little or no provision made by the legislature for the education and morals of the poor in this country — to see these miser- able beings, often for petty thefts, (to which they were impelled by distress and hunger, to satisfy their own cravings, or the irresistible demands of wife and children,) throM'n into prison by those who enjoy all the comforts and affluences of life, there further punished by solitary confinement, cold and gloomy cells, seclusion from the world, separation from those connections which alone could solace their days, even in the enjoyment of their liberty; poor and scanty fare, (the punishment not of crimes, but of poverty^ as a prisoner in these gaols maybe supplied with any money by his friends;) such conduct sinks a nation, however renowned for arts and institutions, to a level with societies the most rude and bar- barous."
The objects which continually presented themselves in his walks about the prison drew firom him the following humane observations on severities, which custom has, perhaps too generally, sanctioned in the opinion of those, whose more pleasant lot it has been, to see
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. =275
only the fair outside of these " abodes of broken hearts."
" The loading of prisoners, even before trial, with very heavy irons so that they can scarcely walk beneath the weight, at the dis- cretion of the gaoler, not by the measure of the alledged offence, is not only a very inhu- man, but, I should think, a very needless practice, in a prison so constructed and so regulated as to preclude all expectation of escape on the part of the prisoner, and all fear of it on that of his keeper."
" In these prisons also, as if the miseries of separation from their families and the world, and a prospect of hours and weeks and years, in this forlorn exile, Avere too much like bless- ings, the prisoners are made contemptible to themselves, and to each other, and a gazing stock of scorn to superintendants, and visitors, by a particoloured dress of harlequins. Surely these are severities which gall and press down the spirit, without the slightest tendency to •reformation, or any moral consideration of the prisoner. Let a Christiaii magistrate learn consideration and humanity from the Jexvish Lazvgiver, and '' suffer not his brother to seem *cile unto him.'"'
It has been the boast of this country, that the law extends its protection equally to the 2
27(5 LIFE OF
poor and wealthy; but Mr. Wakefield has pointed out a circumstance which detracts, not a little, from the merit of our legal insti- tutions.
" Much injustice and cruelty arises from the distance of the prison and place of trial from the spot where the offence was com- mitted. Great alleviation would accrue from favourable testimony to character. Yet for a judge or magistrate to ask a poor defenceless criminal for such testimony, vdien he lives at a distance and has no friends, but such as are pennyless, and can neither be spared from their work, nor pay for a journey, is, to say the least of it, a most inconsiderate requisition. Cases within my own knowledge give rise to these reflections.
"All causes should be tried as near, as pos- sible, to the spot where the offence is alledged to have been committed, or the ends of justice must, in many cases, be entirely frustrated.
" Another serious injury arises from the long interval of imprisonment before the trial. A man shall lie in prison for eight months, and, after all, no crime he Jound against him. But his time has been lost, his character ruined, his family impoverished — every possible evil, and no recompence.""
n See some striking instances of this evil in Mem. i. 362.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 277
From his habits of reflection and observa- tion, Mr. Wakefield had no difficulty in assign- ing what appeared to him adequate causes of the evils he so much lamented. He has left among his papers the following detached re- marks:
" Laws and magistrates by too much se- verity increase and encourage crimes; because men of humanity are deterred from prosecu- tion v/hen the punishment is so disproportion- ate to the offence, °
note. — This deplorable condition of prisoners upon their en- largement, either by acquittal or the termination of their punishment, because " no one will receive a man or woman out of a jail, into any service or employment whatever," has been well exposed, and some remedies suggested by Arch- deacon Palei], Mor. Phil. ii. 293. Very lately also by Bishop JFatson in his " Sermon before the Society for the Suppres- sion of Vice," pp. 8,9.
° Dr. Johnson enlarging upon the prevailing " desire of investing lawful authority with terror, and governing by force rather than persuasion," complains, that " crimes very dif- ferent in their degrees of enormity are equally subjected to the severest punishment that man has the power of exercising upon man." He shews the inefficacy of those punishments which, in his nervous manner, he describes as " a pt^riodical havock of our fellow -beings," and remarks, that " they who would rejoice at the correction of a thief are shocked at the thought of destroying him. His crime shrinks to nothing compared with his misery; and severity defeats itself by ex- citing pity." See Rambler, No 114 j where the author defends
27S LIFE OF
'* The severity of judges, and their assis- tants the justices and jailors, arises from the unavoidable eifect of an authoritative and dic- tatorial intercourse with criminals and crimes, and from this false principle — a contemplation of wickedness with sentiments of hatred ra- ther than pity; a principle incompatible with a due sense of our own frailty, and the best pre- cepts of Christianity. The sentiment which every judge and magistrate should \vear as his phylactery is, " To have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with in- firmity." [Heb. v. '2.]
No doubt a general discipline of tender- liess and humanity might be established in
the principle of " invigorating the laws by relaxation, and extirpating wickedness by lenity," on the authority of Sik Thomas IVIoke. We presume that he refers (o the general doctrine of the Utopia on that head. See Bishop Burnett's translation of that work, published by Dr. Warner in 1758, pp. 40 — 425 upon which the editor has an excellent note, in- troduced with a sentiment equally free with any thing written by Mr. Wakefield on the same subject. He says, " It has long been my opinion, that we presume too much on our power of making laws, and too far infringe on the command of God, by taking away the lives of men, in the manner we do in England, for theft and robbery; and that this is not only a pernicious error, for the reason given, but a national abomi- nation."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 279
these prisons; but an expectation of ordinary sensibilities at suffering or peculiar considera- tions of special distress, is an expectation in- compatible with the inevitable operation of things. The heart perpetually conversant with these scenes of profligacy and wretchedness, becomes gradually obdurate in spite of its native gentleness and all counteracting in- fluence of caution and reflection: just as a path, notwithstanding the vegetable influences of the season, is unavoidably worn by the per- petual feet of recurring passengers.
" Yet no man can have either experience of human conduct, or philosophical knowledge of human nature, who can suppose culprits emendable by severity, or by any other means than kind treatment and useful knowledge. The Supreme Being exercises himself in re- forming the wicked by boundless liberality and unwearied benevolence : he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.
We cannot conclude our quotations from Mr. Wakefield's remarks on these subjects without regretting that the unconnected and unfinished state of his papers enables us to give so small a part of them to the public. Yet it would be unjust entirely to suppress them.
280 LIFE OF
They may possibly, even in tills imperfect form, assist to rouse tlie activity of those whose power shall bear some proportion to our friend's solicitude for the improvement of our criminal institutions: men, whose felicity it shall be to have their names united to
" the generous band, Who, touch'd with human woe, redressive search'd Into the horrors of the gloomy gaol,"P
The manner in Avhich he employed so many of his prison-hours, we are persuaded, Avill endear his memory to those who recol- lect how he might have passed them. The luxury of a literary life was still, in a great measure, within his power. Though inade- quate to many of his learned projects, the books he could have procured would have fur- nished a constant entertainment. The kind- ness of his friends had supplied him with ample means to purchase the good behaviour even of his gaoler, in a place where every thing but liberty has its price.
In his own case, he resisted what he thought an imposition, not from a parsimonious mo- tive, to which he was an utter stranger; but because he would on no account, willingly,
P Thomson.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 281
sanction tlie demands of injustice. He marked the condition of the prisoners, and suffered his mind to be occupied with their wants and miseries, because he was one of those who " scorn their ease" for the benefit of others — a character that must command re- spect even wliere it fails to excite imitation.
Without meaning to detract from the merit of those who have preceded him in the performance of these ofhces of humanity, we may be allowed to say, that, in his case, it re- quired a fortitude which few can l)e expected to possess. To explore the recesses of a prison, with My. Howard, under authority from a magistrate, and in the character of a superior, might be the occupation of a benevolent man, and must be of great public utility. With Mr.W^akefield — a prisoner under the suspicious eye of his gaoler — to examine
" Where, in the dungeon's loathsome shade. The speechless captive clanks his chain. With heartless hope to raise that aid His feeble cries have called in vain." ^
This was, doubtless, the greater sacrifice to virtue.
We trust, that he did not make this sacri- fice in vain. He has certainly added some-
'^ Hayley. .
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thing to a mass of evidence, and argument upon this subject, which must one day command general attention, from a nation, boasting of freedom, and professing a regard to justice.
" Nor vain the thought that fairer hence may rise New views of life, and wider charities." "■
^ Bowles.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 283
CHAP. XIV.
Mr. IFahefield's return to Hachiey — Lectures on Virgil — His
Illness and Death.
1801.
Mr. Wakefield left Dorchester, on the fourth of June, to return with his family to Hackney. Having passed a night at Egham, he took that opportunity of paying his per- sonal respects to Mr. Fox, at his beautiful retreat at St. Anne's Hill. Of this interview he often spoke with peculiar pleasure.
For several months past it had been in his contemplation, at the suggestion, and by the advice, of a number of his friends, to deliver, on his return to London, a course of public classical lectures. They were intended to comprehend the Latin language, especially its poetry; to include every object connected with these subjects, and to be founded on the text of some author of acknowledged interest and importance. The second book of Virgil's
284 LIFE OF
jEneid was, in the first instance, selected for the purpose.
He now prepared to execute his design.'
^ The following copy of Mr. Wakefield's printed propo- sals will explain his plan, and may possibly afford some useful hints to future Lecturers.
Lectures on Virgil, ly Gilbert Wakejield, B. A.
It has been suggested by some judicious friends, that Lec- tures on a principal classic author of antiquity, as unexception- able in their subject, useful in their tendency, and unconnected with all political and theological opinions, would not be unfa- vourably received by the public.
In consequence of this suggestion Mr. Wakefield pro- poses to read Lectures on Vikgil; — an author of such pre- eminent accomplishments, as render him peculiarly adapted to the purpose: and the Second ^neid is selected accordingly for this experiment.
These Lectures will be philological, critical, and expla- natory; as intelligible and simple as is consistent with novel and interesting information; unfolding and illustrating what- ever respects the etymologies, the proprieties, the energies, and the elegancies of expression; the peculiarities of composition; the construction and the beauty of the numbers; with such occasional illustrations from other authors, Greek and Latin, as may seem likely to promote the general objects of this under- taking.
Young scholars, tolerable proficients in school discipline, will receive most benefit from these Lectures, with such stu- dents of the classics, more advanced in years, whose education has been defective, or who may be desirous, after a long in- terruption of these studies, to renew and improve their know-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, 2S0
The season was too far advanced to encourage the expectation of a numerous audience; but it was thought advisable to make the experi- ment, in order that the public, by a knowledge of what was to be expected from such a course, might be better prepared for the renewal of it in the next year.
An undertaking of this kind, supported by such acknowledged powers of execution, M'as a novelty in the metropolis, of a pleasing and promising nature. From the literary taste and character of our countrymen, it might reasonably be expected, that a considerable interest would be gradually excited by a pub- lic lecture, undertaken in illustration of the most celebrated writers of antiquity by a scho- lar and critic so equal to the office. To many descriptions of persons such instructions must prove highly acceptable and useful; and all by whom they M'^ere attended in the present instance, notwithstanding the supposed trite- ness of the subject, will readily acknowledge the high degree of satisfaction they expe-
ledge in classic literature. It is presumed also, that the Lec- turer's long and diligent attention to such subjects may render his performance not wholly uninstructive to scholars of su- perior proficiency, who may be induced to give their attend- ance from an opinion, on the importance of classical informa- tion, congenial with his own.
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rienced. For a public instructor, Mr. Wake- field was eminently qualified. The variety of his information, his correct and lively taste, with the assistance of his retentive memory, supplied a copious store of materials for the ready illustration of every beauty, and every difficulty.
The delivery of these lectures occupied his attention till the beginning of July. He then finished the first course, designing to resume them in the ensuing spring. But, in the midst of the congratulations of his friends on his re- covered liberty, and his own plans for futurity, he began to feel the symptoms of a disorder, which quickly put an end to his valuable life.
How far his constitution, though appa- rently still firm, had sustained any serious in- jury by a confinement of two years, it is, per- haps, impossible to state with any degree of confidence. Certain it is, however, that, after his liberation, he M^as by no means equal to those exertions of body, which *he had pre- viously sustained without any inconvenience.
As his lectures were delivered in London, the fatigue of this employment was materially increased by his walks from Hackney, during a season unusually warm. He was likewise unfortunately much occupied during the inter-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 287
val of his lectures in going about in search of a permanent residence for his family.
Though he felt himself occasionally indis- posed by the fatigue which he underwent, he was not at all aware of an}' serious conse- quences from this sudden change in his habits of life, till the latter end o^ /hi gust.
About the middle of that month one of the present writers visited him at Hackney, and was highly gratified by his appearance of health and spirits. On the 21st, he received a letter from him, which indicated nothing of the sad change which was approaching. On the 27th of August, however, in a letter addressed to both his daughters, then on a visit at Rich- mond, (a letter peculiarly valued by them, as the last he ever wrote) he says, "■ I was more indisposed last night, than I have been for some years, in a burning fever and excessive lieat of the head; and so I continued through the greater part of this day, but am better to- night."
Two or three days passed before he thought himself so seriously indisposed as to require medical aid. Mr. Touhnin of Hackney now attended him. His friend Dr. Pett, with un- remitting anxiety, watched the progress of his disorder. Dr. Lister and Dr. Wm. Hamilton
288 LIFE OI-
very sieneiousiv exerted tlieir skill in his* be- half. But every effort of art or attention was found to be in vain. His disorder, M'hieh was a typhus fever, after a very few days made rafpid advances. His head w^as soon affected, tJiough, even through this cloud over his in- tellects, his language occasionally discovered the taste of the scholar and the piety of the Christian. At leno-th disabled by his disorder from gratifying his friends with his conver- sation, he still appeared to know them, and but a very ift\w hours before he expired, he expressed to one of the present writers his re- collection of their friendship, in a manner which he cannot easily forget, " while memory holds her place."
Of the commencement and early progress of our friend's indisposition, v/e are not able to speak from our personal knoMledge, as we w^ere absent in the country, and knew not of his danger till three days before his death, when we hastened to offer him our assistance, but could do little more than mingle our un- availing regrets Mith those of his family and friends.
One of the medical gentlemen, whom we liave just mentioned, and who we are persuaded never regretted the imperfection of his art more
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 289
deeply than on this occasion, has favoured one of the present writers with some particulars relative to Mr. Wakefield's disorder. We trust that we shall be kindly excused the liberty we take of inserting a letter designed only for private use, as it affords the most satisfactory account which can be given of this affecting event.
DEAR SIR,
I FEEL myself extremely at a loss in what way to comply with your wishes. Even in circumstances the most favourable to distinct recollection, I should shrink from the attempt to draw up a comiected and detailed ac- count of the last illness of our eminently ex- cellent and lamented friend: but at this dis- tance of time, it is utterly in^possible for me to communicate to you any thing more than a few meagre and detailed hints. The circum- stances which a faithless memory will enable me to put down, you will have the goodness to dispose of in any way your judgment may direct. I perfectly recollect my walking from Hackney to town with him, and Mr. Kentish, on the Monday immediately preceding his ill- ness. It must have been on the ^4th of Au- gust. I accompanied him to Mr. Artaud's, to see his portrait. I never saw him in higher
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health and spirits: he was all himself, active and' animated, and disposed to give free scope to his admirable colloquial powers. During two or three days of this week he exerted him- self very greatly by taking several long cir- cuitous walks in quest of a house, which he was almost impatiently solicitous to procure.
I have no doubt thiit he injured himself very much by these inordinate exertions; for though he was gifted by nature with a frame capable of enduring rapid and long-continued efforts, yet the tedious and close confinement from which he was just released, must, I think, have induced a change in his system, which rendered it almost essential to the continuance of bis health, that he should gradualli/ revert to his former habits of personal activity. It appears to me highly probable that his sud- denly passing from a state of long continued restraint and inaction to the opposite extreme, was the principal source of that fever which so quickly succeeded his unusual exertions; exertions, which in any circumstances he could scarcely have made with impunity, and the injurious influence of which was greatly strengthened by the heat of the weather.
On the morning of August 30tb, it was men- tioned to me that he v/as a good deal indisposed ; I therefore went to see him. I found him in
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 291
the midst of his famil}^ witli the Prmceps edi- tio of Homer open before liim. He was af- fected Math all the symptoms of the earl}^ pe- riod of fever. With the utmost readiness, he immediately complied v,ith my suggestion of the propriety of his relinquishing, for the present, his customary occupations, and sub- mitting to medical treatment, expressing, in his usual energetic v/ay, that it was a maxim with him most scrupulously to conform to the directions of his medical friends, when he had recourse to their advice.
The next day, I saw him again: he was still very feverish, but there was no consider- able aggravation of the symptoms. However, as it appeared to me that a feverish condition of the system Avas so far established, as to ren- der his speedy restoration to health highly im- probable, I strongly recommended that I might be allowed to request Dr. Lister to see him: accordingly the following morning (Tuesday) he was visited by Dr. Lister.
During the three succeeding days there was no such alteration of the symptoms as in- dicated any peculiar degree of danger. Some increase of fever, however, ensued, and his strength became impaired, but he was per- fectly calm, and yielded implicit submission to the medical directions. He conversed with
Q
192 LIFE OF
his family, and those Avho were admitted to him, with perfect traiKjuillity and self posses- sion. I shall never forget the strength and vividness with which he used tp describe his uncomfortable and dcprcwed sensations.
As I did not, much to my regret, take down in writing any notes of his conversation and manners during his illness, and whilst fresh in my memory, I cannot recall any par- ticulars with such distinctness as will enable me to communicate them in detail. I can therefore only state generally that, notwith- standing his bodily powers were enfeebled and disordered, yet his conversation was fre- quently characterised by the warmth of ex- pression, the happiness and variety of me- taphor, the ready and endless choice of clas- sical and scriptural allusion and quotation, for which, when in health and spirits, he was so peculiarly distinguished.
Towards the end of this week his fever gained ground considerably, so as to affect his head and disturb his reason; indeed, for some time, he was highly, and almost incontroulably, delirious; and whilst under the influence of delirium, his mind was impressed with an im- movable assurance that he could not recover. This delirious impression operated most inju- riously, for, under the conviction, that where
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 293
the issue was so certain the attempt to prevent it was folly, it led him resolutely to reject the use of medical assistance. In this restless state he continued nearly the whole of Satur- day, talking- and arguing almost incessantly, and often vehemently, on the pieposterous ex- travagance of endeavouring to counteract the fatal tendency of his disorder. At night he fell into a short sleep, from which he awoke free from delirium, and perfectly composed, and he immediately consented to take his medicines, and suhmit to an application which he had lately most strenuously resisted.
After this he had no violent return of deli^ rium, nor do I recollect his using any ex- pression from which it might be inferred that he considered death as inevitable. Once, in- deed, after this, I remember he talked with me on the weakness and absurdity of those prejudices which too frequently prevent medi- cal men from ascertaining by actual examina- tion the cause and seat of disease; and he strongly expressed his desire that, if he did not recover, his om'u remains should be exa- mined in any way his medical attendants might Avish.
I think it was on Sunday evening that Dr. Wm. Hamilton first saw him, together with those who already attended him. His debility
294 LIFE OF
had increased a good deal, and in other re- spects he had become worse, but by no means to such a degree as to destroy the hope of re- covery. This niglit was passed without much restlessness, but it was in a state approaching to stupor.
On Tvlonday morning he seemed very much relieved; the stupor was for a short time re- moved; he took some nourishment with much satisfaction and apparent refreshment. The pulp of some ripe grapes he took with pecu- liar pleasure. and relish; he looked around him, and recognised with expressions of regard the friends who were standing by his bedside. Upon Mrs. Wakefield, M'ho was close to him, he fixed his eyes with a look of tenderness, a smile of delight, which I shall never forget. So favourable was the change that our hopes began to revive that his life might still be spared: but the prospect soon darkened again. From this time he continued tolerably still and composed, but the symptoms of fever suf- fered no abatement : on the contrary, the de- rangement of the functions was evidently in- creasing, and the powers of life were every hour becoming weaker. He spoke but little ; occasionally, however, he expressed his wants, and answered questions collectedly and dis- tinctly.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 255
Thus lie continued until Wednesday morn- ing-, by v.hicb time he was so much worse, that it Av-as apparent his dissohition was approach- ing. He was now affected with every symp- tom of the hist stage of that kind of fever, which, by medical writers, is termed Typhus. Not an hour before his death some medical assistance M'as given to him, of which he was perfectly conscious, and he spoke to me so as to indicate that he knew me, though I could not fully distinguish what he wished to say. He breathed his last about half after eleven in the forenoon.
These are all the facts which I can now re- member with such distinctness as w^ill justify my sending them to you. I am well aware that it is a very scanty and uninteresting re- port of the commencement, progress, and ter- mination of the illness which put a period to the active and valuable life of this most inte- restins: man. The little information which it will convey to you, you Avill use in whatever -^yay you may think proper.
I remain, dear Sir, With much esteem, very truly Yours,
Samuel Pett.
Clapton Field, Monday morning. May 2\, 1804.
296 LIFE OF
Mr. Wakefield died Septembers, 1801, in the 46th year of his age, leaving a widow and six children, four sons and two daughters: thus lost to his family, his friends, and the pub- lic, in the prime of life and the maturity of judgment. Such was the will of " a Disposer whose power we are little able to resist, and whose wisdom it behoves us not at all to dis- pute." '
' Burke,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 297
CHAP. XV.
Miscellaneous Olscrvations relative to Mr. JVaheJidds
Character.
Mr. Wakefield's general habits of life, together with his maniier of thinking upon most subjects of importance, are well described by himself in the former volume of this work. It is hoped also, that such of his scattered fragments as we have been able to preserve in. this continuation will contribute to the same object. It may not, however, be superfluous to subjoin to this account of his life and writ- ings such further hints and observations as will assist the reader in forming; a true esti- mate of his character.
The forwardness of his capacity in the season of infancy^ appeared to design him for a scholar. Tlie conscientious occupation of
» See '^Mem." I. 23.
298 LIFE OF
his hours'' during the period o^ youtJi, when to trifle is regarded as ahiiost venial, prepared him for the attainment of literary eminence. His manly years, he incessantly employed in arranging and imparting the intellectual stores, Avhich his youth had acquired, and M'hich, un- der his skilful management, Mere daily in- creasing.
His merit as a scholar, it would ill become us to attempt to appreciate. His enemies have never ventured to dispute it. Nor, Ave believe, have the best friends to his memory and his repu- tation any apprehensions as to the permanence of his classical fame. In his own estimation, literature was not to be regarded as a selfish gratification,'' but to be chiefly valued for the grand excitements and important aids which it afforded to the attainment of religious know- ledge, and the formation of just principles. ^Vhen a young man, he expresses, in one of
i> Among the miscellaneous papers written by Mr. Wake- field in Dorchester Gaol are the following observations:
" What knowledge I have been able to acquire has been effected by a ntiost methodical distribution, and parsimonious application of my time, wilh a punctuality, allied to religious scruple, in all ray engagements, seconded by an incessant purpose of intellectual improvement." See also " Mem." I. 143, 1-14. .15/, and supra 222, 223.
' See " Mem." i. 157.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 299
his private letters, his resolution to be chiefly occupied in " that noblest science to be good,'"' and after the experience of many years, when he was giving affectionate advice to one of his daughters, he thus strongly inculcates the un- importance of all literary attainments which terminate short o^ moral improvement. ''You know my sentiments on these points so well as to free me from the necessity of adding, how trivial and insignificant are the noblest intel- lectual endowments, in competition with bene- volence of feeling and purity of heart; — with that sensibility, and complacency, and accom- modation of manners, which reaps it's sincerest and highest pleasures from relieving the wants, attending to the wishes, and consulting the gratification, of a single human being.""
As a member of civil society, a mind such as his could never for a moment either enter- tain or inculcate
" Th' enormous faith of many made for one."
Respecting forms of government, indeed, he was little attached to any particular theory, but, rather anxious to behold civil institutions practically applied to the public good. He
•J Sec " Mem." i. 387. * Ibid. i. 354.
SOO LIFE OF
could scarcely be called ca politician, in the usual meaning of the term, till, in the latter years of his life, those events began to agitate the world, which A^ere calculated to rouse the attention and interest the feelings of every man of thoug-ht and reflection.
He was now led to investii>"ate the charac- ter and conduct of the public men of his time. In one who, unhappily for his country and the world, has been too long ^' a statesman with- out power," he discovered a liberality of sen- timent and an openness of profession conge- nial to his own. Contemplating the perilous situation of his country, an incessant prey to the ravages of war and the accumulation of public burdens, he described Mr. Fox as her " Angel of Redemption.'" Of his rival, [t is w^ell knov/n that he formed, in earlier life, a far less favourable opinion/ which the expe-
• " Defence," &c. p. 42.
f It is favourable to the sincerity of P.Ir. Wakefield's well- known sentiments of this statesman that they were formed and expressed long before he had any prospect of becoming one of the victims to the resentful Genius of his administration. See " Mem." i. 3G0, ZQl, and 505, 500.
He thus describes his early impressions of Mr. Pitt's character:
" I remember Mr. Pitt a youth of sixteen at Cambridgcj
myself then a youth also, in the same sanctuary of the muses.
Even at that early period this extraordinary character kept
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 301
rience of his riper years tended only to con- firm.
Yet his habits and inchnation generally led him to the enjoyments of domestic society and the occupations of private life. As a cheerful and most engaging- companion — an able and persevering instructor of the youths committed to his care — a zealous promoter of the interests of learning, with an especial regard to the eventual predominance of religion — in these characters he is peculiarly worthy of being proposed as an example, and in these, indeed, it was his first ambition to excel.
As a companion he has, vre believe, been seldom equalled by any professed student; for,
aloof from his contemporaries, with a semblance of high dis- dain ; as if an association with his f«:llows, like the contact of a lazar, were accompanied with contamination and debase- ment. A scowl of contemptuous arrogance was seated on his brow. He seemed even then, in a vision of futurity to antici- pate the fiightful glories of his destiny j****
/never varied in my opinion of this man from his first en- trance on public life. And many who hailed the morning of his glory with applause, have been disabused of their unsolid confidence, since his sun has climbed to its meridian : as the unwary traveller receivv;s the thunderbolt of death from that very tree, under whose hospitable branches he fondly expected an asylum from the storm." Appendix to '' Address to the Judges," Sec. p. 25.
See also " Letter to William Wilberfcrce, Esq." p. 43.
502
LIFE OF
among his various excellencies, his colloquial powers were eminently conspicuous. No one was ever more fond of social intercourse, or took a more active part in promoting its en- joyment, by keeping conversation alive, what- ever turn it might take.
Indeed, it could not be at a stand v/here he was present. The accommodating disposition with which he applied his varied talents, ena- bled him to instruct by his learning, or to amuse by a rich fund of anecdote, and lively sallies of humour. Perhaps upon these occa- sions he was carried too far into the practice of punning ; at least, it might be thought so by those who have no talent for that species of pleasantry, from vv^hich, however, he carefully abstained Vv'hen its indulgence might give un- easiness to others.
In conversation, he was not desirous of en- o-rossino" toolarste a share, but rather solicitous to bring forward those around him, especially the young and the diffident. It might be truly said of him, that " in speech, neither the plea- santness excluded gravity, nor Mas the so- briety of it inconsistent with delight. No man parted \villingly from his discourse : for he so ordered it, that everv man M^as satisfied that he had his share." ^ >
» Rp.Spwt, " Life of Cowley."
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GILBERT WAKEFIELD.
303
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Though thus unassuming in his manners, he was sure to attract attention to his senti- ments on all su])jects. Whenever these excited opposition, he would listen to the contrary opinion Mith the most patient and impartial attention, for he was not less observable for a candid and conciliating mode of argument, than for the readiness and command of lan- o'uao'e with which he could sustain his own opinion. What he says of himself on this point was strictly correct. " Though some people re- gard me as violent and self-willed, I know very well, that 1 owe the extraordinary aifection of my many friends to no one property so much as a kind attention to their sentiments, and a civil manner of disputing them " ^
That he was subject, especially in his early years, to that irritability of temper which is too frequently an attendant on genius cannot be denied. During the latter period of his life, however, he had so far acquired the mas- tery over his feelings, wiiich were naturally strong, as to have been but very rarely be- trayed, in his conversation, into asperity of lan- guage, by the harshness or ill manners of an opponent. When such painful circumstances occurred, they were dismissed as soon as pos-
* See Letter to his Daughter, Supra, p. 186.
502 LIFE OF
among his various excellencies, his colloquial powers were eminently conspicuous. No one was ever more fond of social intercourse, or took a more active part in promoting its en- joyment, by keeping conversation alive, what- ever turn it min:ht take.
Indeed, it could not be at a stand where he was present. The accommodating disposition with which he applied his varied talents, ena- bled him to instruct by his learning, or to amuse by a rich fund of anecdote, and lively sallies of humour. Perhaps upon these occa- sions he was carried too far into the practice of punning ; at least, it might be thought so by those who have no talent for that species of pleasantry, from v*^hich, however, he carefully abstained when its indulgence might give un- easiness to others.
In conversation, lie was not desirous of en- o-rossino- too lar^e a share, but rather solicitous to bring forward those around him, especially the young and the diffident. It might be truly said of him, that " in speech, neither the plea- santness excluded gravity, nor \vas the so- briety of it inconsistent with delight. No man parted willingly from his discourse : for he so ordered it, that everv man was satisfied that he had his share." ^
s Rp.Spr.U, " Life of Cowley."
GILB.ERT WAKEFIELD. 303
Though thus unassuming in his manners, he was sure to attract attention to his senti- ments on all subjects. Whenever these excited opposition, he would listen to the contrary opinion with the most patient and impartial attention, for he was not less observable for a candid and conciliatino- mode of arofument, than for the readiness and command of lan- o'uase with which he could sustain his own opinion. What he says of himself on this point was strictly correct. " Though some people re- gard me as violent and self-willed, I know very well, that 1 ov/e the extraordinary affection of my many friends to no one property so much as a kind attention to their sentiments, and a civil manner of disputing them " ^
That he was subject, especially in his early years, to that irritability of temper which is too frequently an attendant on genius cannot be denied. During the latter period of his life, however, he had so far acquired the mas- tery over his feelings, which were naturally strong, as to have been but very rarely be- trayed, in his conversation, into asperity of lan- guage, by the harshness or ill manners of an opponent. When such painful circumstances occurred, they were dismissed as soon as pos-
^ See Letter to his Daughter, Supra, p. 186.
304 LIFE OF
sible from his memory, and never suffered to prejudice his mind in estimating the general merit even of those by whom his sentiments were rudely controverted.
Such were the talents and dispositions which he brought into his social intercourse, a pensive, yet pleasing, recollection of which enables us to speak upon this subject Avith pectdiar confi- dence. His early love of society has been described by himself, where he mentions that " during a five years' continuance at col- lege he never breakfasted, drank tea, or supped alone, half-a-dozen times."' Recon- sidered it, under due restrictions, as the most useful school of wisdom, and virtue to beinsrs endued with social faculties \ His sentiments
' See " Mem." i. 87.
^ The following extract of a letter to his daughter, written from Dorchester gaol^ while it unequivocally expresses the same opinion, discovers the amiable interest which he took in promoting tlie innocent pleasures of his children.
" Your mother and I have no objection toyour little brother's visit to Manchester during the vacation, as we think a change of scene and company will be serviceable to him, and turn his thoughts into a new direction. Much interchange of society is, in my opinion, very desirable for the young as well as the old, and perfectly consonant to the nature of a being evidently formed for social communication. The friendly attritions of familiar intercourse rub off all the rugged points, and smooth all the roughnesses of manner and temper, and render the dis-
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 305
are not less accurately than beautifully describ- ed by the poet.
Man in society is like a flower
Blown in its native bed j 'tis there alone
His faculties, expanded in full bloom.
Shine out j there only reach their proper use. J
It was doubtless chiefly owing to his early and continued indulgence of this disposition, that he avoided those awkward, and frequently unaccommodating, peculiarities so observable in men of retired habits. Of himself he re- marks, " I have always endeavoured to guard against those indecorous absences, and alie- nating singularities, too incident to studious
men.'""
To this freedom from every thing like re- pulsive manners must, in a great measure, be attributed that eagerness with which his so- ciety was sought after by many persons of tastes and habits of life very different both
position universally accommodating both in public and domestic life : a consideration which forms, in my mind, an almost in- superable objection to private education, except in very pecu- liar circumstances of miscellaneous society at home, or a deli- cate constitution, which requires perpetual inspection, and incapacitates for encountering the rudeness and turbulence of ichoolfcllows."
J The " Task." m MSS. Papers.
VOL. II. X
306 LIFE OF
from himself and from each other ; a proof of something singuLirly amiable and engaging in his conversation and deportment." Few had an opportunity of commg once into his company without desiring a greater intimacy. Some especially from Avhom in his latter years he received peculiar marks of friend- ship, were in this manner introduced to his acquaintance.
In the important character of a Tutor, the rationality of his method of instruction may be inferred from his eminent success, while his conduct towards the youths committed to his charge secured at once their respect and affection.
n The following passage so well applies to the character of Mr. Wakefield, that we make no scruple of quoting it, " Though habituated to deep thinking and laborious reading, he was generally cheerful even to playfulness. There was no pedantry in his manners or conversation, nor was he ever seen to display his learning with ostentation, or to treat with slight or superciliousness those less informed than himself. He ra- ther sought to make them partakers of what he knew, than to mortify them by a parade of his own superiority. Nor had he any of that miserable fastidiousness about him which too often disgraces men of learning, and prevents their being amused or interested, at least their choosing to appear so, by common performances and common events." — " Memoirs of the late James Harris, Esq. by his Son, the Earl of Malmsbury/' 8vo. edit. p. xxxi.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 307
Learning grew. Beneath his care, a thriving vig'rous plant j The mind was well inform'd, the passions held Subordinate, and diligence was choice. °
The anxious assiduity with which he ful- filled the duties of this arduous employment, can be estimated by those alone whose pride it is to have owed their education to such a tutor. His high notions of the importance of the office may be collected from his ad- mirable remarks, the suggestions of long ex- perience, scattered through various parts of the first volume of these Memoirs K
'^ The '^ Task."
P The following letter also afFords a just view of his sen- timents on this head, and especially of his liberal behaviour towards his pupils. It was sent to one of the present writers, who had applied to him to undertake the education of the son of a friend, Mr. Wakefield having previously almost resolved to relinquish the office of tutor, was not without much soli- citation prevailed upon to listen to the proposal. Two or three days after the interview, he writes as follows :
Hackney, April 17, 1798. Upon revolving this matter, my dear sir! in my ov/n mind ever since I saw you, it does not appear quite in the same light as then, but even much more momentous, from the extreme interest, which I take in the welfars of those so con- nected with me, and which rises to an anxiety, that almost terrifies me with the prospect.
■2
308 LIFE OF
As to his method of instruction, no one was ever better skilled in the art of sivina:
As every species of magisterial severity and distance is, and ever was, absolutely foreign to my thoughts, and incon- sistent with my dispositions, an entire equality of association has ever taken place with all my pupils and my family, so that no more embarrassment as to any domestic enjoyment should attend them than if they were at home, and no affections pre- vail in me towards them but such as extend to my own children.
On this account the whole family becomes moulded anew, and the same alteration takes place merely by the admission of one gentleman, as of half a dozen: nay, in some respects more ; as the want of associates renders a much greater por. tion of friendly intercourse necessary to render their lives happy; without which no literary improvement can ever be expected to take place. Out of the intervals of study, there- fore, I should neither expect nor wish a young gentleman to be insulated in his own room, but to have a free communica- tion with us all, as he finds agreeable, without any hesitation or formality.
An additional trouble, and that in no small degree, accom- panies the instruction of those, who are so far advanced in life, from their greater aptitude and eagerness to receive know- ledge; and one requires more regard in proportion than more, because there is no improvement from mutual communication and united effort. On these accounts, though I know every thing mercenary and exorbitant to be foreign to my nature, I do not feel myself disposed to this engagement for less than I was to have had with that young gentleman who died pre- maturely. If by Mr. 's influence, or by any other
means, I should procure two more, I should have no difficulty in lowering the terms.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. SOC?
novelty and interest to the subjects of his lec- tures, well knowing- that where curiosity is not stroniilv excited, information is seldom re- tained. lie had a most engaging manner of inrrodur-ino- a variety of incidental remarks, supplied l}y liis retentive memory, that rich nn'ne of intellectual wealth Thus he coulddif^us^ a charm over topics tiiC most barren and un- promising. The kindness also of his manner, especi iliv when he found his pupils docile and attentive, excited in their minds a strong im- pression of the interest which he took in their improvement.
But while he thus conscientiously dia^- charged his duty to the pupil, he was not less exact in fulfilling his obligations to those who co:nmitted to him so important a trust. He made it a rule, to which, in every instance, he rigidly adhered, to communicate to parents a faithful account of their sons' general behavi-t our and proficiency. In this he persevered, sometimes to his own great detriment. On other occasions, however, this ingenuous con- duct produced its proper effect.
I thought it right to be thus explicit, and must conclude
myself, as the post is gohig, without reading the letter over
again.
Yours, most affectionately,
Gilbert Wakefielo.
310 LIFE OF
To the exercise of every thing hke per- sonal severity towards his pupils he was an utter stranger, and indeed never spoke on the subject of such practices, but with aversion. After having been occasionally engaged for many years in the education of youth, during which period he necessarily met with a great variety of capacities and tempers, it was his unvarying persuasion that very few were the instances in which advantages could be gained from harshness and severity, which might not be more effectually secured by the gradual operation of mild treatment. In this senti- ment he was confirmed by the increasing ex^ perience of his own success in promoting the improvement of his pupils. Nor can any per- son read the foregoing pages without remark- ing the interest which, to the latest period of his life, he maintained in their affections.
As a promoter of the interests of learning, his unwearied assiduity is sufficiently evinced by the number and nature of the works'' which he published. These, it should be remembered, were written, " not in the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academic
1 Some remarks on bis " Character as a man of letters," by the Rev. E. Cogan, were communicated by Dr, Aikin in the Monthly Magazine^ see vol. xii. p. 228.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 511
bowers, but"^ at intervals snatched from his daily avocations, and amidst a variety of em- barrassments, sufficient to have chilled the zeal of a less ardent votary of knowledge.
This eagerness, in literary pursuits, pro- ceeded not simply from a desire, however laudable, of gratifying curiosity. He Avas actuated by higher motives. A sense of duty arising from a firm conviction that the wel- fare of society is most effectually advanced by the dissemination of useful knowledge, especially such as tends to familiarize the study of the Scriptures, — the vdtimate object of all his researches — these impelled him to devote his days and nights to the improve- ment of his mental faculties, and the free communication of what he esteemed impor* tant truth, uninfluenced by considerations of personal interest.
It was his early and continued persuasion, '' that an intimate connexion subsists between letters and morality, between sensibility and taste, between an improved mind and a vir- tuous heart." ° Under such impressions, per- severing as he was by nature, it is not sur- prising that he should make large sacrifices on the altar of interest and ambition, or that
* Johnson. » Preface to his edition of Gray.
312 LIFE OF
he was enabled to the litest period of his life to bear up against that misrepresenta- tion and obloquy which too generally assailed his writinijs.
That he sometimes gave an advantage to those who examined his publications with no friendly eye, cannot be denied. On too many occasions, chiefly Mhen writing on controver- sial sul>jects, of politics, or theology, he in- dulo'ed himself in harshness of lan'>:uao'e and severity of censure. Nor are his works on classical criticism free from this imputation,' though the charge has probably been magni- fied beyond what the occasion will justify.
In accounting for this undoubted blemish in his writings it is but just to remark, what all who knew him will attest, that he never appeared to be actuated in the smallest degree by envy of the superior fortune or exalted reputation of his opponents. His failings upon this point can be satisfactorily traced to very diiferent causes.
He possessed a large share of constitutional warmth and earnestness, which too easily be-
' Some observations upon this topic, among various others, chiefly relative to the literary character of Mr. Wakefield, by Dr. Parr, very obligingly communicated in a letter to one of the present writers, will be found in the Appendix. [G.]
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 313
tray an author, especially when replying to an opponent, into an unceremonious style of com- position. This disposition he frankly avows; and apologises for " that decision and l^old- ness"" Av^hich appeared, especially in his theo- logical performances, from the first, hy assign- in"; a cause to which few will refuse the claim of integrity.
The extraordinary haste with M'hich he com- pleted what he once resolved to undertake, will account for errors, and even personalities, which a writer of different habits would have easily avoided. These, in man}' instances, he might have corrected had not his want of pa- tronage, and the unpopularity of his senti- ments, denied him, in most cases, the advan- tage of publishing new editions of his works. It should be remembered also, that few per- sons write upon topics of controversy unless strongly interested in the discussion, the feelings, not unnaturally, vent themselves in a correspondent energy and intemperance of lano'uao-e.
After all that can be alledged against his writings upon this point, what he says of him- self will still be easily credited by those who knew the man as well as the author. He
" See " Mem." i. 237.
314 LIFE OF
remarks, " my predilection, as my friends well know, is not for censure, but for com- mendation:'"' and it was a most unwelcome task to him to exercise the former cha- racter.
Nor should it be forgotten that to the same constitutional warmth and irritability,
X See " Mem." i. 2. — Dr. Aikin, after noticing the acri- mony of Mr. Wakefield's style, "■ which was lamented by his friends, and which laid him open to the reproach of his ene- mies," remarks, — " In disputations by word of mouth no man was more calm and gentle, more patient in hearing, or more placid in replying; and if in his writings he has without hesi- tation or delicacy bestowed his censures, he has been equally liberal and decided in his praise. His applauses evidently came from the hearty free and unstinted; for envy did not possess a single particle in his composition ; nor has he with- held them when he thought them deserved by particular laud- able qualities, even in characters which he could not regard with general approbation."
We cannot forbear gratifying ourselves by quoting the close of this just " Tribute to the Memory of Mr.Wakefield" — " there was in him an openness, a simplicity, a good faith, an affectionate ardour, a noble elevation of soul, which irresistibly made way to the hearts of all who nearly approached him, and rendered him the object of friendly attachment, to a de- o-ree almost unexampled. Let this be placed in balance to all that might appear arrogant or self-sufficient, harsh, or irritable in his literary conduct! His talents were rare — his morals pure — his views exalted— his courage invincible — his integrity without a spot. When will the place of such a man be sup- plied !" See M. Mag. xii. 226 & 230.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 315
which occasionally hlemished his publications, he was indebted for some of his most valuable qualities. These excited that ardour of affec- tion and sympathy which so endeared him in private life, and caused his society to be courted, independently of his literary attainments. To these also he owed that resolution in the pursuit of useful knowledge, which led him to sacrifice his worldly interest and personal comfort to the convictions of duty, that intrepidity in the profession of doctrines which appeared to him to bear the seal of truth, however cautiously concealed by the timid, or stigmatised by the selfish and illiberal. To the same temper may- be ascribed that glow of eloquence and vi- vacity of illustration, which illuminate every subject on which he has written.
Whatever were Mr. Wakefield's merits as a student and an author, he would have lived, to his own apprehension, in vain had he not proposed the advancement of moral and reli- gious knowledge as his ultimate object.
His attachment to theological pursuits was formed much earlier than usual with young- persons of classical taste. To " contribute something to the restoration of that noble edi- fice, the Christian dispensation, to its original simplicity, " he describes as the most worthy^
316 LIFE OF
employment of life and health.y On this topic there can be no occasion to enlarge. His writings have sufficiently shewn that, as John- son remarks of Dr. Watts, "Whatever he took in hand — was converted to theology."
" With respect to opinions, usually called speculalive, he understood something more than is generally apprehended from that term." It was his maxim, " that there is no reli- gious truth; unconnected with an upright and honourable practice." ^ Under this impression, while a student at the university, notwith- standing his strong attachment to classic liter- ature, he suffered no pursuits to interfere with his endeavours to gain " a complete mastery of the phraseology of both scriptures." Their dictates he was solicitous to discover for him- self, without relying on the opinions of *' con- troversialists or commentatoi*s."'
The result of this diligent investigation he did not leave, like too many respectable but timid men, to be first divulged by his bio- graphers. He freely avowed his daily in- creasing reasons for rejecting " the creed of his forefathers,'"* and abandoning his con- nexion with a church whose constitution and articles he esteemed unscriptural. It was
y See "Mem," i. 402. ^ Ibid 3'j2.
» Ibid. 99 & 114; 115 & 23«. ^ Ibid. 184.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 3J7
^•reatly to his honour, coiisklering- the induce- ments to a contrary conduct, that when he had once formed Ids judgment upon these points he inmiediately determined to sacrifice his interest to his convictions, notwithstanding the examples of an opposite practice con- tinually hefore him. He had indeed, at a very early age, complied with the forms necessary for deacons orders. This compliance he se- verely censures *' as the most disingenuous action of his whole life;" '^ and ever afterwards he rejected, without hesitation, that too-much applauded sophistry which might almost per- suade a Christian to subscribe his " assent and consent" to creeds and offices of a Mahometan church.
His religious opinions were, in general, most consonant to those entertained by the Uni- tarians; yet he called " no man Master on Earth." In his youth, considering his exten- sive reading, he was but little conversant with the writings of those who, from the asra of the Reformation, have disputed the dogmas of esta- blished churches. He appeared to avoid them till he had examined the scriptures for himself; and throuo-li life, so far from following' them implicitly, he might rather be considered as treating them with neglect.
c See "Mem." i. 121.
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As he drew his opinions immediately from the scriptures, so he was desirous that others should pursue the same course. Considering- the firm conviction with which he maintained his sentiments, he was remarkably free from proselifting'^ zeal. On this subject we are able
^ *' It is natural to expect that one who differed on many important topics from opinions generally entertained, and who could support them in his writings with so much warmth and energy, as Mr, Wakefield was accustomed to do, would be forward, at all times, to introduce these subjects into con- versation, with a view to obtain adherents and proselytes. This practice, however, found no advocate in him. He was satisfied with stating his opinions in his publications in the most explicit manner, and, after supporting them to the best of his power, leaving them to make their way, in proportion as they should approve them.selves to the judgment of his readers.
This trait in Mr. Wakefield's character was strikingly il- lustrated by his conduct respecting the practice of public wor- fhip. His decided objections to that practice, which had' alienated from him several friends in high station, and drawn upon him much obloquy, are well-known. Yet he was so far from introducing this subject into conversation, or discovering any wish to enforce his own persuasions upon others, that it was only among his intimate friends that he could be led into such discussions, which were always conducted on his part in the most calm and dispassionate manner. He never attempted to influence even his own famil}'^, and, which will, doubtless, excite admiration, he uniformly dined on Sundays at a much earlier hour than usual to allow his servants the opportunity of attending public worship. Jikewise, to avoid the possibility of misleading by his example, the thoughtless and the dissi- pated, he scarcely ever quitted his house on Sundays.
With justice, therefore, did he say of himself, " I can truly
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. S\g
to speak with ths confidence of personal ex- perience.
In one opinion, which he held in his latter years, he stood almost alone. He ventured to encounter the opposition of Christians of every party by disputing the expediency of social worship. We are neither called upon nor dis- posed to defend this opinion. It received a practical sanction from the last years of '' the hallowed Milton,'"' without tarnishing his immortal reputation. In Mr. Wakefield, per- haps, it was imperceptibly fostered by that aversion which he so freely avowed to the mode of worship among those Christians, whose
affirm, without any apprehension of self-delusion, and I appeal to those who know me intimately, that I am not tenacious in my judgments, nor at all ambitious of making converts. I certainly feel it my duty to propose what appears to me gospel- truth, and with all that eagerness and energy, which is innate in a mind most susceptible of impression : but beyond this I have no solicitude. I will plant, and I will water; but I leave God either to give the increase, or check the growth, according to his good pleasure, my only rule of action."— " General Reply to the Arguments against the Enquiry into public Worship," p. 30.
' Bishop Newton remarks of Milton [pp. Ixxv. Ixxvi.] that " in the latter part of his life he was not a professed member of any particular sect of Christians: he frequented no public worship, nor used any religious rite in his family." His biographer, after endeavouring to account for this pecu- liarity, adds, he '« was full of the interior of religion, though
320 LIFE O J*
sentiments he generally approved/ His en- viable seclusion from the tumultuous ens:ao-e- ments of the world, and an earlv attachment to religious enquiries, might also depreciate in his esteem the importance of those institutions which others, less happily circumstanced, have regarded as highly conducive to their Chris- tian improvement: or he had seen too many instances in which what was called religion " consisted entirely in minute observances and formal grimaces, with which the wicked can comply as well as the good."* Let him not then be too severely censured if, in contem- plating the abuse of religious observances, he disparaged their advantages, Avhile by precept and example he still " made religion to con- he so little regarded the exterior." Or, in the poet's own lan- guage,
. " other rites
Observing none, but adoration pure.
Which God likes best." Pak. L. IV.
The excellent Dr. Hartley, after recommending various helps to a devotional temper, remarks, " Times, forms, and rules of devotion, are schoolmasters that serve to bring us to Christ. As for those persons who are so far advanced, as to walk with God continually, who sanctify the minutest actions by a perpetual dedication of them to God, I do not presume to instruct them. Their anointing teaches them all things." — •* Rule of Life, ' Prop. 73, in Hartley on Man, Isted. ii. 334.
f See "Mem." i. 241. ^ Jortin's Erasmus^ i. p. 52.
. GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 305»
sist in such things, as none, except Avorthy persons, ever ohserve; in the exercise of those Christian virtues, which are formed in the mind, from a knowledsfe of our dutv and a persuasion of its importance.'"'
Of the benefits derived from what is called Natural ReUgioti, he had a much lower opinion than many have adopted. His sense of the ne- cessity and value of Revelation was proportion- ably exalted.^ The popular notions of a soul, and an intermediate state of conscious existence, he regarded but as the fond conceits of vain phi- losophy.'' Considering death as the utter de- struction of the zvhole inari, his hopes of fu- turity depended solely on the Christian doc- trine of a Resurrection.'
The rapid progress of his disorder allowed him scarcely any opportunity of expressing his views upon this subject during his last hours. In the contemplation of death, how-
^ Jortin's Erasmus, i. p, 52. > See "Mem." i. 392— 3g4.
^ See his " General Reply," &c. p. 10.
1 On these subjects he was a great admirer of the works of Bishop Law, particularly of his discourses on "■ The Na- ture and End of Death under the Christian Covenant," and " Concerning the use of the words Soul or Spirit in Holy Scripture] and the state of the Dead there described." Both subjoined to the Bishop's *■* Considerations," &c.
VOL. JI. X*
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ever, he was happily exempted from those gloomy apprehensions which have embittered the comfort of too many excellent persons, whose theological system
*' Casts round Religion's orb the mists of fear.
Or shades with horrors, what with smiles should glow.""
In the sentiments which ]\Ir. Wakefield had embraced he saw nothing to dismay, but much to console and elevate the mind. The fol- lowing is the conclusion of his IFill, made during an indisposition at Dorchester gaol.
" I wish to be buried with as little ex- pence and ceremony as is consistent with de- corum, and a regard to general opinion ; and hope that my family and friends m^U not la- ment my death, M'hich is a motive of joy, and not of grief, under an expectation of immor- tality by the Christian covenant, but rather profit by their fond remembrance of me in avoiding my faults, and imitating my virtues. " / co??ie qaicldij, and my rezcard is xvith me. Even so come, Lord Jesus ! Amen."
m Mason.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 30;*
Wc venture to subjoin a few additional par- ticulars, which occur to our recollection, chiefly respecting the domestic habits of the subject of these memoirs.
His fondness for young persons has been noticed more than once, and it was a very ob- servable feature in his disposition. He en- tered vvith great interest into their innocent amusements, particularly those of his own children, not unfrequently laying aside his books, and devoting an hour with them to a game of cricket; or instructing them in the arts of making and flying a kite, in both which he was quite an adept. To the levities, and even follies, of youth he was indulgent; and an enemy to all unnecessary severity and re- straint; aiming rather to excite the practice of virtue from a detestation of vice, than from that more servile, and generally ineffectual, principle — a dread of punishment.
Towards the aged and infirm, his behaviour was marked by the most kind attention and respect. To inferiors of every description he conducted himself with uniform condescension and alFability; making it a rule, as he ex- presses it in one of his private papers, " al- ways to speak with courtesy and civility and respectfulness to the servants, and even to the meanest person in the streets." 2
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His whole deportment was distinguished by an easy politeness, and gentleness of man- ners, far beyond that of most studious men. In respectful attachment to the softer sex es- pecially, he could scarcely be exceeded by any man. He describes himself as having *' always been an idolater of the sex :" " nor," he pleasantly adds, " can this justly bring upon me the imputation of sin; as a woman is no graven image, nor the likeness of any thing in heaven above," &c. " In another letter, enlarging on their superior amiableness, he says, " the women in general, are worth, one with another, about half a dozen of our sex." To the same effect, in the margin of his copy of the Prose Works of his favourite author, he remarks, at the conclusion of Milton's Life, " His greatest failing was a disparaging opi- nion of the other sex; unworthy of such a mind!" giving as instances some passages" in his writings, and his " conduct to his wives and daughters."
Although Mr. Wakefield, as Dr. Parr very
" See " Mem. • I. 529.
o In the margin of "^ The History of Britain/' ^.6, where Milton describes " Earl Godwin's daughter" as " com. mended much for beauty, modesty, and beyond what is requi- site in a woman, learning" Mr. Wakefield makes this apos- trophe^ with his pencil, "John! John! I blush for thee !"
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 309*
justly remarked, '' knew the value of every fl-eeting moment," and therefore had a great dislike to interruptions/ especially in the morning, yet he never betrayed any incivi- lity or impatience when broken in upon by those who, perhaps, from their own want of occupation, would intrude rather indiscreetly on his hours of study.
In the communication of his knowledge he took great delight, and had not the least por- tion of that narrow jealousy and reserve which too frequently render almost useless the la- bours of literary men. His books, particularly the classics, abounded with his marginal notes. The use of these, when he had no immediate prospect of making them public himself, he freely imparted to other authors or editors. Of this liberal conduct we could mention va- rious instances.
As to his occupations in English literature, it should be mentioned that, without neglect- ing later authors, he Avas extremely attached to our earlier prose writers — Roger Ascham,
P These he might have avoided could he have allowed himself in a practice now almost universal. But in one of his papers entitled " Petty Moralities/' to which we have already- had occasion to refer, he says, " I never denied myself to any visitor, of whatever rank or calling, on account of occupation, or any other cause, to my knowledge, in all my llfcj nor suf- ffered such equivocation in the servants."
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Bp. Jeremy Taylor, Lord Bacon, John Hales, Dr. Spencer, (the author of De leg. Hebrceor, and a Treatise on Prodigies,) and especially Milton, whose prose-works he again read through, not long before his death, with great delight. It cannot be doubted that the fre- quent study of these writers had considerable influence on his style, particularly in his later works. Recent publications of merit, he was very< desirous of possessing, but, to prevent interruption to the order of his studies, he would often for a long time restrain his cu- riosity to peruse them.
With respect to his person he was in a small degree below the middle stature, somewhat nar- row in the chest, and his legs more muscular than his general appearance would have led one to suppose, which enabled him to endure without fati""ue so much of his favourite exercise of walk- ing, even, when occasion required, to the extent of forty miles in a day. His complexion was pale, his eyes grey, and the general impression of his countenance in the highest degree in- tellectual. The engraving annexed to this work from a painting by Mr. Artaud, finished only a day or two before his fatal illness, will, we are persuaded, readily recall his features to the memory of his friends.
In his apparel he was remarkably plain,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 311*
perhaps too little regarding external appear- ance; but not from any slovenly habits, from which he was ever free. To simple neatness of dress and cleanliness of person, especially the latter, he was scrupulously attentive. His motives for economy in the article of dress are thus described in one of his papers, — " Laid out no money on myself unnecessarily in clothes, calculating such expenditure as a great evil by one measure, that of books; re- garding such waste of money, as the loss of so many books as it would purchase, necessary to the comfortable prosecution of my studies:" in this respect imitating Erasmus, who says, ill one of his Epistles, " that as soon as he could get any money, he would purchase, first, Greek authors, and secondly clothes.'"^
Mr. Wakefield was always an early riser,^ and when occupied in preparing any work for the press, it was by no means uncom- mon for him to be in his study by three or four o'clock in the morning. Perhaps it was in a great measure owing to this habit of redeeming time that he was singularly punctual to the hour of his engagements.'
■1 Jortin's Erasmus, i. 14. >■ See his " third maxim;' " Mem." i. 143. * In his private papers he says, " Never was half a dozen times in my life as many minutes unpunctual to any engage- ment, or appointment at any time, whether the place were near or distant."
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In the article of diet he was very abste- mious, and, in his latter years, rarely in- dulged himself in animal food. Indeed, he became, from principle, a decided enemy to the use of it altogether, and, had he lived, it was his design to have published some obser- vations on this subject. It is well knovrn that other virtuous and reflecting men have inclined to this opinion/
From fermented liquors of every kind, he rigidly and conscientiously abstained, except- ing when occasionally prescribed in a medi- cinal view." His principal meal was at tea-
t Dr. Hartley considers this subject in the practical part of his great work. Upon the whole^ he concludes that the use of animal food is perviitted, yet he freely allows " that taking away the lives of animals, in order to convert them into foodj does great violence to the principles of benevolence and compassion," See " Rule of Life," prop. 52, in Obs. on Man," 1st ed. ii. 222.
Sir Thomas More in his " History of Utopia," which is generally supposed to convey his own opinions, after men- tioning that the Utopians " employ slaves for killing their beasts," adds, " for they suffer none of their citizens to kill their cattle, because they think, that pity and good-nature, which are among the best of those affections that are born with us, are much impaired t)y the butchering of animals."
" Utopia," by Dr. Warner, p, 11.
" See his " second maKim." " Mem." i. 143.
On this subject also Dr. Hartley has, as usual, many valuable remarks, of which we quote the following:
*' All liquors, which have undergone vinous fermentation, since they obtain thereby an inflammable, inebriating spirit,
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 313*
time. Tea was his favourite beverage, though he never allowed himself to wear out his plea- sures, as he used to express it, by indiscreet indulgence; unlike a celebrated "hardened and shameless tea-drinker," as he describes himself, " whose kettle had scarcely time to cool, who with tea amused the evening, with tea solaced the midnight, 'and with tea wel- comed the morning.""
His hours of leisure were devoted to no recreations beyond the exercise of walking, and the enjoyment of cheerful society with a few friends at the tea-table, which he greatly preferred to the dinner-party. During his earlier years he had been extremely addicted to the amusement of fishing, > which he re- have from this inebriating quality^ which impairs reason, and adds force to tlie passions, a mark set upon them, as dangerous not only on this account, but on others, to bodily health, &c, and as either totally to be avoided, or not to be used, except in small quantities, and rarely. The general agreeableness of wines and fermented liquors to the taste, their immediate good effect in languors, dejections, and indigestion, and their ex- hilirating quality, when taken sparingly, are indeed arguments to shew, that there may be a proper use of them. But this seems rather to be that of medicines, or refreshments upon singular occasions,, than of daily food."
Hartley, ubi sup. p. 220.
^ Johnson's Works, ii. 334.
y It is remarkable hov/ much this has been, at all times, a favourite pleasure with men of a contemplative turn of mind.
3]4* LIFE OF
linquislied for a long time before his death, from an aversion (which he was surprised not to have always felt) to any pursuit
" That owes its pleasures to another's pain." z
It may appear more extraordinary, that at one period of his early life, he occasionally in- dulged in the sport of shooting; a circum- stance to which he never adverted but with expressions of regret and mortification. Of the hardy delights of hunting, which, in his *' Imitation of Juvenal,'"* he has sufficiently satirized, he could form no adequate concep- tion, as he never was on horseback in his life. The following passage, in which Cicero speaks of his manner of passing the season of retire- ment during the troubles of his country, he frequently quoted with great energy and ad- miration. " Neque otio me ignavo dedidi, nee, rursum, indignis homine docto voluptati- bus." I neither surrendered myself to inac-
The all-accomplished SirH. Wotton was passionately fond of it. His biographer^ Isaac Walton, says of him, " nor did he forget his innate pleasure of angling, which he would usually call his idle time not idly spentj" saying often, he would rather live five May months than forty Decembers." Zouch's Walton, p. l64.
Dr. Palcy has shewn his attachment to this diversion by having bis portrait taken with an angling rod in his hand. '' Cowper. ' See Appendix (F.)
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 315*
tivity and indolence; nor, on the other hand, to pleasures unbecoming a man of letters.
Such accomplishments, both of the head and the heart, might have been very reason- ably expected to advance the interest of their possessor, while men of inferior talents were continually rising to the highest honours. But ]\Ir. Wakefield soon found himself under the painful necessity of sacrificing ail flattering hopes of improving his external condition, unless he would restrain the open declaration of theological opinions too uncourtly, and too much at variance with established creeds, to be avowed by any one vvhose object w^as the promotion of self-interest.
Free as v^^ere his sentiments on many points of theology, they excited greater animadver- sion from the unreserved manner in which they are sometimes stated. This practice how- ever, as has been suggested before, sprang from very honest motives; though some great men of former times, in similar circumstances, observed an opposite conduct — '' concealed and timorous friends of truth, who keeping their sentiments to themselves, or disclosing them only to a few, complied with established errors and supersti- tions, which they disliked and despised.'"'
^ .lortin on " The Truth of Christian Religion/' p. 03. cd. 4. ^mong these Dr. Samuel Clarke is a conspicuousr example.
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It may be fairly inferred also from the writings of several of his contemporaries, who
His great dissatisfaction with many parts of the established service is well known, from bis corrected liturgy, in which " the alterations with respect to the object of worship are nu- merous and important 3" [Biog. Brit. iii. 609.] yet he con- tinued in the church till the time of his death; and thus gave open countenance to what he most unequivocally deemed er- roneous.
He was however a firm advocate for free enquliy and dis- cussion, and urged the duty of making open profession of whatever appeared to be truth, however obnoxious.
In proof of this we quote the following passage from his admirable sermons. (Sermon on tiie Unity of God.)
" This therefore is the first and principal instance of con- fessing God with our mouths : the making constant prqfessiori of the true doctrine of religion, how much soever we may possibly
suffer thereby in our temporal interest. Next to the profession
of true religion in general, tliere is farther implied in this duty of confessing God with our mouths, an obligation not to be ashamed of truth and right, of virtue and goodness, in all par- ticular cases wherein they may happen to be contested. 5/. Paul, as he declared in general, that he was not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, Rom. i. 16. So wdaen in a particular circumstance he judged St. Peter to have departed from the simplicity of the Gospel, he withstood him to the face, Gal. ii. 11. And 'tis accordingly excellent advice, which is given by the son of Syrach, Eccles. iv. 20. " Beware of evil, and be not ashamed when it concerns thy soul : for there is a shame that bringeth sin, and there is a shame which is glory and grace: accept no person against thy soul, and let not the reverence of any man cause thee to fall: Refrain not to speak when there is occasion to do good ; strive for the truth unte death, and the Lord shall fight for thee."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 317*
have had the good fortune to attain eminent stations in the church, that however they re- conciled it to their minds to preserve their connexion with the existing estahlishment, they differed very little from him in many of his most obnoxious sentiments.^
c BishopWatson, especially, who in the preface to a Collec- tion of Theological Tracts, designed for the use of students in divinity, makes the following observations:
" Some, I know, affect to believe that as the restoration of letters was ruinous to the Romish religion, so the further cultivation of them will be subversive of Christianity itself: of this there is no danger. It may be subversive of the reliques of the church of Rome by which other churches are Btill polluted J of persecutions, of anathemas, of ecclesiasti- cal domination over God's heritage, of all the silly outworks, which the pride, the superstition, the knavery of mankind have erected around the citadel of our faith : but the citadel itself is founded on a rock, the gates of hell cannot prevail against it, its master-builder is God; its beauty will be found ineffable, and its strength impregnable, when it shall be freed from the frippery of human ornaments, cleared from the rub- bish of human bulwarks."
He further remarks, — " The objections of unbelievers are frequently levelled against what is not Christianity, but mere human system; and he will be best able to defend the former, who is least studious to support the airy pretensions of the latter. The effect of established systems in obstructing truth, is to the last degree deplorable: every one sees it in other churches, but scarcely any one suspects it in his own," Pp. 13 & 14.
The same prelate also, in one of his charges to the clergy of bis diocese, instructs his brethren, that " the divine doc-
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His free theological opinions were net the only hindrances to his advancement. He felt a lively interest in the great political events which occurred, especially in his latter years, — events
" Of which all Europe rings from side to side."
Rejoicing, in common with some of the greatest and best men of his time, at the ap- pearances (however they may have proved de- lusive) of freedom recovered and enjoyed in a nciglibouring nation, he boldly reprobated maxims and measures which he thought sub- versive of the liberty and happiness of his own country. This, it appeared, was not to be done with impunity, under an administra-
trines of our hol}'^ religion want not the aid of human laws for their support. When Christian magistrates assume to them- selves the right of interpreting doabtful passages of scripture in a definite sense, they pollute the altar of the Lord, though with a view, perhaps, of adorning and defending it, and often sanctify error by the authority of civil laws. The history of the church, from the time of its civil establishment, affords a thousand proofs of the truth of this remark." " A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese of Landaff, June 179I/' p. 19.
See, likewise, some valuable observations on the great im- portance of free inquiry on subjects of religion, by Dr. Paley, in the Dedication of his Mor. Phil, to the late Bishop Law. — See also his chapter " on Religious Establishments and on Toleration," 2d vol. of that work, pp. 303, &c, 8th edit.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. SI9*
tion, by whose influence in the late House of Commons, as a great statesman has remarked, *' more was added to the public burdens, and more taken from the public liberties, than at any period since the Revolution,''
The severities which he now sustained were tempered by the habitual seriousness of his disposition, which suggested motives to cheer- fulness and hope from sources to which too many are utter strangers. The awful, but animating, consideration of the omnipresence . of the Divine Being was seldom absent from his mind in the season of silence and solitude;'' and the prospect of immortality was a never failing resource.
Such a man was Gilbert Wakefield. He may be justly ranked among those who in their lives, as well as their writings, have shewn that the principles of Christianity happily accord with every mental accomplishment which rea-
^ The following is an extract from his private papers, written while in Dorchester gaol :
" A dignified consolation of solitude is, to regard oneself as more immediately in the presence of the Supreme Being ; and as we strive to recommend ourselves to human society by a blameless, kind, and accommodating demeanour j so to ren- der our conduct as acceptable as possible to our omnipotent associate, by the utmost purity of thought and propriety of action."
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son values or virtue approves; animating to the duties of life, and consoling in the expec- tation of death. Though his date was short, it was extended by unceasing exertions; and though cut off in the midst of his years, he fell not immaturely : for, as it has been beautifully expressed, " Honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that is mea- sured by number of years: but wisdom is the gray hair unto man, and an unspotted life is old age."
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 321
CHAP. XVI.
Respect paid to Mr. IFakeJieid's Memory — Letter from Dr. Parr — Funeral — Sketches of his Character — Verses on the Occasion of his Death.
1801.
The death of such a man as Mr. Wakefield, under circumstances so affecting, would na- turally call forth expressions of regret from his various connexions.
Among numerous letters received on this occasion, the following from Dr. Parr, A\^hich we have obtained his permission to publish, does equal honour to the amiable sensibility of the writer, and to the memory of him who is the subject of it. This letter was written to an intimate friend of Mr. Wakefield in reply to one which announced the circumstance of his death.
SIR,
I WAS yesterday evening honoured with your letter; I read the contents of it
VOL. II. Y
322 LIFE OF
with inexpressible anguish; I passed a com- fortless night; and this morning I am scarcely able to thank you, as I ought to do, for your delicacy in averting the shock which I must have suffered, if intelligence so unexpected, and so distressing had rushed upon me from the newspapers.
In the happiness of the late Mr, Wakefield I always took a lively interest: many are the inquiries I made about the state of his health, and the course of his studies, while he was at Dorchester; great was my anxiety to see him after his sufferings were at an end : and Avhen his name was announced to me at my lodgings in Carey-street, I seized his hand eagerly, I gazed stedfastly upon his countenance, I was charmed with the freshness of his spirits, and the apparent stoutness of his constitution; I anticipated for him a succession of years after years, during which he might have smiled at the malice of his enemies, and enjoyed the sympathies of his friends: and at parting I received from him a book, which the circum- stance of captivity under which it was written, endeared to me, and which his death has now consecrated. ,
*' Auget etiam molestiam, qu6d magna sapientium Civium bonorumque penuria, vir egregius, conjunctissimusque mecum studiorum
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 323
miiltorum societate, alienissimoreipublicae tem- pore extinctus, ct auctoritatis et doctrinal suse triste nobis desiderium reliqiiit: doleoque quod non ad\xrsarium aut obtrectatorem laudum mearum, sed socium potius et consortem gio- riosi laboris amisi."
The illustrious man who wrote nearly these words upon the loss of Hortensius, would not complain of any diminution in their truth, or their dignity, if he could know that I had ap- phed them to my own feelings on the decease of Gilbert Wakefield.
To the learning of that excellent person my understanding is iiidebted for much valu- able information, but my heart acknowledges yet higher obligations to his virtuous example. I loved him unfeignedly, and though our opi- nions on various subjects, both of criticism and theology, were different, that difference never disturbed our quiet, nor relaxed our mutual good-will.
When we reflect upon the injury which literature has sustained from the disappoint- ment of his numerous plans, and from the cessation of his useful labours, we may be tempted, perhaps, .o exclaim " O fallacem hominum spem, fragilemque fortunam, et inanes nostras contentiones ; qu« in medio spatio saspe franguntur et corruunt, et ante,
324 LIFE OF
in ipso cursu obruuntur, qiiam portum con- spicere potuerunt."
Yet, surely, our regret for the loss of future instruction will be much allayed by the remem- brance of that which he has already communi- cated to us, and of his merit in the communi- cation. " Whatsoever the hand ofAIrJVake- jield found to do," he habitually and instinc- tively did " v/ith all his might:" he knew the value of every fleeting moment; he improved every talent which a gracious Providence had entrusted to him; and, in the course of his whole life, how few are the hours which he wasted in idleness, in folly, or even in those innocent amusements which " pass away like the trace of a cloud."
In diligence, doubtless, he surpassed any scholar with whom it is my lot to have been personally acquainted, and, though his writings now and then carry with them some marks of extreme irritability, he was adorned, or, I should rather say, he was disiingiiished, by one excellence, which every wise man will admire, and every good man will wish at least to emu- late. That excellence was, in truth, a very rare one; for it consisted in the complete exemption of his soul from all the secret throbs, all the perfidious machinations, and all the mischievous meannesses of envy.
GILBERT AVAKEFIELD. 325
They who undertake the office of writing his life will do well to record this singular and amiable quality; and they will do so, not merely in justice to his memory, but for the edification of all readers in all classes, and for the humiliation, let me add, of every insolent pedant who would depreciate his attainments, and every vindictive partisan v/ho would triumph over his infirmities.
For m}' part, Sir, I shall ever think, and ever speak of Mr. Wakefield, as a very pro- found scholar, as a most honest man, and as a Christian, who united knoAvledge Avith zeal, piety with benevolence, and the simplicity of a child with the fortitude of a martyr.
Under the deep and solemn impressions which his recent death has made upon my mind, I cannot but derive consolation from, that lesson which has been taught me by one of the wisest among the sons of men: " The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seem to die, and their departure is taken for miserj'^ — but they are in peace.
" Having been a little chastised. They shall be greatly rewarded} For God proved them, and found Them worthy for himself."
326 LIFE OF
I beg the favour of you to present my best respects and best wishes to Mrs. and the Miss Wakefiekls, together with my thanks for the attention which they have shewn to me on this melancholy occasion.
I shall be much obliged to you for inform- ing me, at your leisure, in M'hat place my be- loved friend is interred; and I anxiously hope to hear that he has left his family in comfort- able circumstances.
I have the honour to be, Sir, Your respectful and obedient servant,
S. Parr.
Hatton, Sept. 13, 1801.
Mr. Wakefield was buried Sept. 18, in Rich- mond church,^ of which his brother is the mi- nister, and where his father and mother are interred. It was the design of his family that the funeral should be private : but his friends were desirous of giving the last testimony which they could offer to his highly-esteemed character and their sincere attachment. About fifty persons, besides his own family, attended the funeral from Hackney to the place of in-
a Where a mural monument has been erected by his brother, with an inscription to his memory, written by that gentleman, for which see the Appendix.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 327
terment. The feelings of regret were, per- liaps, never more observable than upon this affectina: occasion.
J.-
On the following day appeared in the Morning Chronicle a tribute of respect to Mr. Wakefield's memory, which we are very happy to copy in this place. The author is the Rev. James Lindsay. The unavoidable haste with which this paper was written confers upon it peculiar merit as a composition.
" To say that his loss is deeply regretted by all the lovers of truth and freedom would be saying little. It may be truly affirmed of him, without exaggerated praise, that in lite- rary attainments he has \ehfizv superiors; in uprightness of heart and conduct 7ione. To his general merits as a man of learning, to the extent and accuracy of his classical knowledge, to the diligence and success with which he pursued his critical researches into the writ- ings of antiquity, both sacred and profane, the first scholars of the Continent have borne a willing and an ample testimon}^
" If he has been more sparingly praised by the learned of his own country, the cause is to be found in the unpopularity of some of his opinions, and in that want of candour which
328 LIFE OF
is the inseparable concomitant of party-spirit. Happily there are yet some among ourselves in whom no diiference of sentiment can stifle, the perception of real excellence — scholars of the first rank, who disdain the meanness of concealing what justice commands them to avow — M'ho are not afraid to bestov/ applause upon those who deserve it, be their party what it may, and who regard with contempt the hatred and the calumnies of those little-minded beings who resent the praise of all talents that are not enlisted on their own side.
" But whatever mio-ht have been Mr. Wakefield's claims to respect as a scholar and a critic, the lovers of truth and virtue will dis- cover in him merits of a higher cast. They will admire, above all, much more than his literary endowments, that sacred regard to moral rectitude, of which he was at all times, and in all situations, so eminent an example. They will venerate as they ought, especially amidst that tergiversation and sacrifice of principle, of which they have witnessed so much in these times, they will venei-ate almost to idolatry his unshaken adherence to what he deemed the cause of freedom and humanity, and his readiness to incur any danger, of suf- fering, or death, in its defence.
'' Of his particular modes of thinking on
GILRERT WAKEFIELD. 329
religious and political subjects, different men will form different opinions. Concerning the integrity of his heart, and the consistency of his character, there can he hut one opinion amongst those who enjoyed the happiness of his acquaintance.
" The foundation of this integrity, and this consistency, was laid in early life. In the course of his academical studies, he imbibed from the fountains of Greece and Rome an ardent love of truth, a generous regard to public freedom, a manly sense of personal dig- nity and independence. He had too many occasions of observing, that, without these moral feelings, splendid talents are only higher qualifications for mischief, fitting and tempt- ing those who possess them to become the ad- vocates of error, the apologists of vice, and the tools of oDpression. He therefore fortified his mind against those alhirements of vanity and ambition, to which minds of such a texture as his are so much exposed, by cherishing those magnanimous sentiments with which his favourite authors abound, loo many of his contemporaries seem to have regarded these sentiments as fit to be the passing amuse- ment of a youthful fancy, but too romantic for that state of society in whicli thei/ rise most surelv to wealth and honour, who can
330 LIFE OF
cringe with the most fawning servihty at the foot of power.
" Very different were the views of Mr. Wakefiekl ; he did not throw off his early con- victions with his academical gown, and think only of employing his talents to secure his pre- ferment. On the contrary, that which beg-an in the honest feelings of his nature, he gra- dually improved into a permanent principle, of ' which he became the more tenacious, the far- ther he advanced in life. Those generous pur- poses of soul, which the sages of Athens en- gendered, were nursed into vigour by the seers of Judea. and the spirit which he inhaled upon Parnassus, vv'as illumined and sanctified by the purer and more elevated spirit of INIount Zion. That love of truth and virtue which philosophy had taught him as a dignified senti- ment, Christianity consecrated as a rehgious duty; and whilst he listened with respect to the advices of Socrates, he bowed with sub- mission to the authority of Jesus.
" His researches into the Sacred Volume produced a full and permanent conviction of the truth of revelation, and a firm resolution to teach and to practise nothing but what he thought strictly conformable to its spirit; and as he soon found reason to adopt opinions very different from those of the Church in which
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 331
he had been educated, with that disinterested rectitude which so strongly marked his whole conduct, he sacrificed his advantages and ex- pectations to his sense of duty, and rehnquished a situation which he could no longer hold con- sistently with his convictions.
" But though he left the church of Eng- land, he did not cease to labour (O ! that he might have laboured longer) to enlarge and edify the church of Christ. He resolved, in- dependent of any established creed, and un- biassed by any worldly emolument, to employ his learning in elucidating the sense and morals of the Gospel, and in holding up to veneration the God-like character and unparalleled sacri- fices of its author. Unhappily for the inte- rests of biblical criticism and genuine religion, the Christian world is deprived, by his un- timely death, of those exertions which were to be expected in this line of study from the vigour of his age and judgment; Mdiilst the lovers of classical literature have equally to lament the disappointment of those well- founded hopes which they entertained from his indefatigable and accurate investigation of Greek and Roman learning.
" It is not the object of this article to detail the dates and circumstances of Mr. Wakefield's life and writings : nor is it intended to com-
332 LIFE OF
ment upon the occasion Avhich drew down on his head the weight of ministerial vengeance. This only it may be permitted to say, what- ever pohtical malevolence may assert or in- sinuate to the contrar}^ that in connexion with the general cause of freedom and humanity, no man was more deeply concerned for the real prosperity of his country, or better dis- posed to sacrifice all personal considerations in promoting it.
'' Actuated by this spirit of disinterested patriotism, his mind was too ardent to weigh expressions in tlic balance of worldly prudence, vvdien reprobating measures which, to his judg- ment, appeared destructive of those great ob- jects that were ever uppermost in his thoughts. If, in opposition to these measures, he some- times became too indignant to accommodate his language to that courtly standard which men of colder temperament have fixed, allow- ance will be made by the candid, even among his political opponents, for feelings constitu- tionally strong, and irritated by the convic- tion, well or ill-founded, that his country, through the mal-administration of its aflrairs, was hastening to inevitable ruin.
" Tluit intrepid spirit which he displayed in the course of his prosecution, will naturally be held up by those to whom it was obnoxious
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 333
as the effect of obstinacy; but to those who were acquainted with his character and prin- ciples of action, it is known to have proceeded from a deep-rooted conviction, that he was bound as a Christian to bear witness to the truth, ' without fearing what man could do unto him.' Of the conduct of administration in instituting such a prosecution upon such grounds, against such a man, impartial pos- terity will judge; and it requires but little sa- gacity to foresee that the result of that judg- ment will be a sentence of reprobation.
" The length to which this article has al- ready extended, prevents the writer of it from saying what justice requires him to say of Mr. Wakefield's domestic virtues. To those who know how much these virtues endeared him to his family, and how deeply he is lamented by all who saw him in the intercourses and en- joyments of domestic life, no other testimony is necessary. How much he possessed the power of attaching his private friends, M'as sufficiently seen in that almost unexampled anxiety which his illness excited; in that un- feigned sorrow which followed his death, and in tliat tribute of affectionate reo-ard which many of them paid to his memory in attending his remains to the place of his interment. Were any other evidence wanting, we might
33 i LIFE OF
refer to those exertions, equally honourable to himself and to his friends, by which the se- verity of his sentence and imprisonment was so greatly mitigated. The regrets which they now feel, and long will feel, for his loss, will be a lasting tribute to his worth, and the veneration with which they regard his charac- ter, they will hand down to their posterity."
Dr. Aikin, his long known and long valued friend, who had so lately congratulated his return to society,'' now published a paper, of which we have already availed ourselves, en- titled " A Tribute to the Memory of Mr. Wake- field.'"' It contains "a slight sketch of the leading events of his life," interspersed, as might naturally be expected from the writer, with many interesting observations.
A clergyman of the church of England also, whose name we are not at liberty to men- tion, drew up, and very obligingly communi- cated, some remarks on his character, derived from the association and correspondence of many years. These remarks will be found in the Appendix. Notwithstanding their different
»> See Monthly Mag. Vol. XI. 422 and 513. <= Ibid. Vol. XII. 225.
GILBERT WAKEFIELD. 335
course of life and opposite views upon some points, the ingenious writer will appear to have retained a just and lively recollection of the virtues and accomplishments of his friend.
Two or three short copies of verses '' were inscribed to his memory, besides a Latin*" elegy by Dr. Geddes already mentioned. This event also called forth the elegant talents of another member of a family to whose writings the pub- lic taste and information have been so largely indebted.
With the verses to which we have alluded, written by Miss Aikin, almost immediately on receiving the account of our friend's death, we conclude this continuation of his Memoirs.
To the Memory of the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield.
Friend of departed worth! whose pilgrim feet
Trace injur'd merit to its last retreat.
Oft will thy steps imprint the hallow'd shade,
Where Wakefield's dust, embalm'd in tears, is laid ;
" Here" (wilt thou say) " a high undaunted soul.
That spurn'd at palsied Caution's weak controul —
A mind by learning stor'd, by genius fir'd,
In Freedom's cause with generous warmth inspir'd—
Moulders in earth ; the fabric of his fame *
Rests on the pillar of a spotless name !"
<! See Month. Mag. XII. 222, 328, 518. <= " Ad umbram Gilberli Wakefield Elegia,' Ibid. p. 326.
330 LIFE, &c.
Tool of corruption — spaniel slave of power ! Should thy rash steps in some unguarded hour Profane the shrine, deep on thy shrinking heart Engrave this awful moral, and depart ! That not the shafts of slander, envy, hate. The dungeon's gloom, nor the cold hand of fate. Can rob the good man of that peerless prize, Which not pale Mammon's countless treasure buys — The conscience clear whence secret pleasures flow. And friendship kindled 'mid the gloom of woe. Assiduous love that stays the parting breath. And honest fame, triumphant over death.
For you, who o'er the sacred marble bend. To weep the husband, father, brother, friend, And, mutely eloquent, in anguish raise Of keen regrets his monument of praise — May Faith, may Friendship, dry your streaming eyes. And Virtue mingle comfort with your sighs j Till Resignation softly stealing on, With pensive smile bid lingering Grief be gone. And tardy Time veil o'er with gradual shade All but the tender tints you would not wish to fade!
APPENDIX,
(B.)
VOL. II.
ON THE ORIGIN^
OF
ALPHABETICAL CHARACTERS.
At this period of time, when the human mind has acquired so much honour by the introduc- tion of such astonishing improvements into the various departments of philosophy and science, beyond the example of former ages; those speculations, Avhich tend to aggrandize the dignity of reason, are received with avidity, and admitted with a readier acquiescence. We are apt to conclude, that the same ingenuity and strength of faculties, which have been able to investigate the sublime laws of the plane- tary system, to adjust the tides, to disentangle the rays of light, to detect the electric fluid, and to extend their researches into the re- motest regions of mathematic science; must
a Respecting the origin of alphabetical characters, see some learned and ingenious observations in Wise's " Enquiries re- specting the first inhabitants, language, religion, learning, and letters of Europe." Oxford, 1758. W, Q
340 APPENDIX. (B).
be adequate to any attainments and disco- veries whatsoever. Nor has any disputable topic of enquiry been accepted more implicitly of late, ev^en by men accustomed to hesitate and to examine, than the gradual discovery of Alphabetical Characters by the successive exertions and accumulated experience of man- kind. To call in question a maxim so gene- rally believed, may appear, in the judgement of philosophers, to savour of superstition and credulity: but, perhaps, it will be found, that the evidence in favour of this maxim, bears no proportion to the confidence, with which it is embraced. As a man, I rejoice in whatever is honourable to our nature : but various scruples have ever forbidden my assent to this popular article of belief. I will state my ob- jections to it with all possible perspicuity and conciseness; and then submit the determina- tion of this question to the judgment and can- dour of the reader.
I. The five first books of the Old Testament are, I believe, ackno^vledged bv all to be, not only the most ancient compositions, but also the most early specimens of Alphabetical JVrit- i??g, at present existing in the M^orld. Now, taking for granted the authenticity of the Mosaic records, if alphabetical writing be in- deed the result of human ingenuity, one great
APPENDIX. (B). 341
peculiarity distinguishes it from all other human inventions whatsoever ; the very first effort brought it to perfection. All the sagacity and experience of succeeding generations, illus- trated by a vast influx of additional know- ledge, beyond the most accomplished of their predecessors, have been unable to superinduce any real improvement upon the Hebrew alpha- bet. This seems to me a singularity utterly irreconcileable to the common hypothesis: at least I am acquainted with no plausible answer to this objection.
Should any one reply, '* that alphabetical characters may have been in existence many ages prior to the date of these specimens in the scriptures, but that the more ancient me- morials, in which they were exhibited, have perished by the desolations of ignorance and the vicissitudes of time:" I must demur at an argument that advances no premises of suffi- cient validity to authenticate this conclusion. For, 1. It is mere affirmation, without the least shadow of historical testimony to give it coun- tenance. 2. To wave the authority of the Jewish scriptures upon this point; (which, however, I must beg leave to observe, is cor- roborated by abundant evidence from phi- losophy and experience, as well as history) that simplicity of manners, predominant in the
342 APPENDIX. (B).
early ages, so observable in the accounts de- livered doM^n by every profane historian; the confessed mediocrity of their intellectual ac- quirements, and the confined intercourse of nations with each other, which would render such an expedient less necessary, and therefore less likely to be discovered : all these con- siderations seem to argue M'itli no little co- gency, that so complex, so curious, so wonder- ful, so consummate a device, as that of alpha- betical writing, could hardly be Jirst detected by a race of men, whose wants were few, whose advantages were circumscribed, and whose ideas were commensurate to their situation. This position, therefore, conjectural as it is, and unsubstantial, seems unworthy of further animadversion.
II. If alphabetical writing were a human in- 'voition, the natural result of ingenuity and experience; might we not expect, that dif- ferent nations would have fallen upon the same expedient, independently of each other, during the compass of so many ages: when the faculties of the mind are equally capable at all times, and in every corner of the uni- verse; and when the habits of life and modes of thought inevitably bear so great a resem- blance to each other in similar stages of so- ciety? This, I say, were but a reasonable
APPENDIX. (B), 343
expectation: Avhich, however, corresponds not to the event. For alphabetical writing, as now practised by every people in the universe, may be referred to one common original. ** Now, if this proposition can be proved, the argu- ment from successive derivation, without a single instance of independent discovery, must be allowed to amount to the very highest de- gree of probability in my favour: and the; common supposition will appear perfectly gra- tuitous, with the incumbrance also of this great paradox: " You tell us, I might say, of an in- vention, which is the regular consequence of refinement in society; nothing more than a gradual advancement from what is plain to what is complex, through a similar process, pursued by the mind in all it's exertions for improvement: and yet, we can perceive no reason to conclude, that any community but one, and that in no wise distinguished by any vast superiority of inventive genius, or the improvements introduced by them into com- mon life, evercompasst this discovery; thougli the human powers have been uniformly the
** 2'jfOt (xev iv^srai twv y^a^i^wfuiv sio-i, itct^a. Ss rstiuv ^oiviKsg ^x^ovtsg rotg 'EXXrjTi Ttix^cx.osoujy.oia-i. Diod. Sic, v. 74.
The Syrians are the inventors of letters, and the Phoeni- cians, having learnt the art from them, transmitted it to the Greeks. W.
344 APPENDIX. (B).
same, and the conduct of society has been greatly similar in different nations at different periods of time."
Let us consider then, how the evidence stands in this case: only premising, that, where a continuity of transmission appears to have taken place, arising from the intercourse of nations with each other; and where the Avords are the same, the grammatical construction, and other minute peculiarities of composition much alike, in two languages; these languages are of the same texture: and that alphabetical composition, attended by these circumstances of resemblance, must flow from one source: especially, if the difference in the alphabetical marks of these two languages should be no ob- jection, but may be accounted for upon rea- sonable principles.
It will be readily allowed then, I presume, that no modern European nation separately mvcwteA alphabetical zvritiiig : exclusive of the Turkish empire, indebted to the Greeks and Arabians, we all derived, without any doubt, this art from the Romans. The Romans never laid claim to the discovery : they ascribed all their literary advantages to the Greeks." This
"^ See Aurelius Victor, p. 12. In Italia Etrusci ab Co- rinthio Damarato, Aborigines Arcade ab Evandro didicerunt. Tac. Ann. xi. 14. W.
APPENDIX. (B). 345
accomplished people acknowledge, with one voice, to have received the art from the Phce- nicians-/ who, as well as their colonists the Carthag'miam, are known by the learned to have spoken the Hebrew language, or a dialect scarcely varying from the original. The Greek characters very nearly resemble the Samaritan or old Phienician. The Coptic, or Egyptian, wears the exactest resemblance in the ma- jority of it's characters to the Greek: which, however, were not introduced, it is probable, before the foundation of Ale.vandria: many words are common to it with the other Eastern languages; and the impracticability of tracing more to this source partly arises from the pau- city of the remains of their literature, and
*■ So Suidas often j Plutarch, Herodotus, Justin Martyr, Clemens Ahxandrinus, several authors in the Anthologia, Josepkus, Critias and Sopater in Athenceus, Pliny, Diodorus Siculus, Tacitus, Lucan iii, 220. This is an important pas- sage. The Phoenicians were better known than the Hebiews, whose language they spoke, and so had the credit of the dis- covery: see Diod, Sic. iv. "Ji. It is easy to improve on the invention of another, as Cicero observes.
Nam neque tam est acris acies in naturis hominum et in- geniis, ut res tantas quisquam, nisi monstratas, possit vi- dere: neque tanta tamen in rebus obscuritas, ut eas non pe- nitus acri vir ingenio cernat, si modo aspexerit. De Oe. iii. 31. See also Q. Curtius, iv. 4. I9, and the note in Pitiscus's edi- tion. Eusebius, prsep. Ev, ix, 26, x. 5. and particularly Hartley on Man, vol. i. prop. 83. W.
346 APPENDIX. (B).
partly from their unconnected situation, and partly from alterations in a length of time: and these remarks are applicable to similar dif- ficulties in the other tongues. This, there- fore, must be referred in all reason to the same origin. The Chaldee, Syriac, and later Samari- tan^ are dialects of the Hebrezv, without any considerable deviation, or many additional words. The Mthiop'ic differs more from the Hebrew, but still less than the Arabic. These languages, however, notwithstanding such de- viations, have issued from the same stock; as the similarity of their formation, and the num- berless words, common to them all, demon- strably evince: and the Persic has a close af- finity to the Arabic. Alterations M^ould natu- rally be introduced, proportionate to the civi- lization of the several possessors, and the time and distance of their separation from the other nations: and this will account for the superior copiousness of some above the rest. So then, not to determine which was the more ancient language, the Hebrew, Syriac, or Arabic, a question of no importance on this occasion; all the languages in use amongst men, that have been conveyed in alphabetical characters, were the languages of people, connected ulti- mately, or immediately, with those, v/ho have handed down the earliest specimens of Meriting
APPENDIX. (R). 347
to posterity. And, when the languages of the eastern nations are so similar — when so curious an art would be, in all probability, the first improvement communicated by one people to another — is it not morally certain, that alpha- heticat writmg originally centered in one people? For length of time has deprived us of express historical testimony in this case.
Indeed, this proposition seems to be suf- ficiently ascertained by another argument; that is, from the sameness of the artificial de- nominations of the letters in the Oriental, Greek, and Latin languages; accompanied too by a similar arrangement: Alplia, Beta, and so on, together with the similarity between the Greek and Samaritan characters, which has been before observed.
But, in opposition to this evidence, some will argue against all possible admission of our conclusion, by alledging the entire dis- similarity of characters employed by the an- cients to discriminate their letters. " Why should not one nation, it will be urged, adopt from the other the mode of expressing the art, as well as the art itself? To what purpose the trouble of inventing another system of charac- ttrsV
Various answers may be returned to this objection.
34S APPENDIX. (B).
1. We know, from the instance of our own language, what diversities may be introduced in this respect merely by length of time, and an intercourse with neighbouring nations. And such an effect would be much more likely to take place before the art of printing had contributed to establish an uniformity of cha- racter. For, when every work was trans- cribed by the hand, we may easily imagine, how many variations Avould arise from the fancy of the scribe, and the mode of writing so con- stantly diiferent in individuals. ^Vllat two persons write without the plainest symptoms of peculiarity?
2. Vanity might sometimes give occasion to this diversity. When an individual of another community had become acquainted with this wonderful artifice, he might endeavour to re- commend himself to his own people, as the deviser of it: and, to evade detection, might have recourse to the substitution of new sym- bols. But let no more credit be given to this conjecture than it deserves, a conjecture not improbable in itself.
3. The characters of the alphabet might, sometimes, be accommodated, as much as pos- sible, to the symbolical marks already in use amongst a particular people. These, having acquired a high degree of sanctity by the use
APPENDIX. (B). 349
of many generations, would not be easily su- perseded, without the aid of some such contri- vance, by an adventitious practice.
4. But I have more than conjecture to offer in support of this argument; even the testi- mony of an ancient historian; whose account will serve as a general evidence in this case, and may lead us to conclude, that similar de- viations may have taken place, amongst other classes of men, as well as in that instance, which he particularly specifies from his own knowledge.
Herodotus,^ in one part of his history, has the following relation:
'' Those Phcanicians, that came with Cad- mus, introduced many improvements among
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l/.Er£(5xXov -KOLi tov pS'/xov Twv y^cx.^iJ.a.T'ojv. ifs^ioiKSOv Sb <r(p£XS fcL TtoXXoc twv yw^MV tstov tov y^ovov 'EXXr/zajv Imvs;, 61 ito-fx- Xa^oyTB; lildyr, tcx^ol tmv ^cnyiy.uiv ta y^a.y.fj.ocT'a, [MBrc(,pf,v^ix,i' caytBS (TfBLav oXtyx, By^Bwvro' yjsuj^^Bvoi Sb sfxfiffav, UKnfsf xai ro Smxiov Bys^s, Btrxyayovtujv ^oivizwv b; 'tr^v 'EXXaJa,
^ojvwj^ia x£>iXy;(r^a( liov oe xaj auroj
KaS'^xTjVa ypa.y.[j:^xra, bv rcy l^uj Ts Aito'AAco'./o; rs I(r[xrivi8 sv Qri^xa-i ra.iriBoiujrujVyS'iri f^4ifO(n Ti<n £y}i£KoXaix[j:.Bvcc,T(x,TfoXXa, i'xota, eoyra roici IccyrMia-t. Herodot. Terpsich. W.
£
350 APPENDIX. (B).
the Greeks, and alphabetical writing too, not known, in my opinion, to the Gtreks before that period. At first they used the Phcfiiician character; but in process of time, as the pro- nunciation altered, the standard of the letters M^as also changed. The Ionian Greeks inha- bited at that time the parts adjacent to the Phoenicians: who, having received the art of alpJiabetical ziuiting from these Phcenicians, used it, with an alteration of some few characters: and confesst ingenuously, that it was called Phoenician, from the introducers of it. And I have seen myself the characters of Cadmus in the temple of Ismenian Apollo at Thebes in Pceotia, engraven upon tripods, and very much resembling the Ionian characters.*^
5. The old Samaritan is precisely the same as the Hebreiv language: and the Samaritan Pentateuch scarcely varies by a single letter in txventy words from the Hebrew. But the characters are widely different: for the Jezvs adopted the Chaldaic or Assi/rian letters, during their captivity at Babylon, instead of the cha- racters of their forefathers. This difficulty then seems to have been sufficiently considered.
*" See further on this part of the subject Chishul on the Sigean Inscription, se-ct, xv. Suidas in Saajwv 6 S'lj^a©^, the Scholiast on the Orestes of Euripides, vers. 432. W.
APPENDIX. (B). 351
III. What we know of those nations, who have continued for many centuries uncon- nected with the rest of the world, strongly militates against the hypothesis of the human invention of alphabetical writing. The experi- ment has lieen fairly made upon the ingenuity of mankind for a longer period, than that which is supposed to have produced alphabeti- cal writing hy regular gradations: and this experiment determines peremptorily in our favour.
The Chinese, a people famous for their dis- coveries and mechanical turn of genius, have made some advances towards the delineation of their ideas hy arbitrary signs ; but have nevertheless been unable to accomplish this ex- quisite device:^ and, after so long a trial to no purpose, Ave may reasonably infer that their mode of writing, which is growing more intri- cate and voluminous every day, would never terminate in so clear, so comparatively simple an expedient, as that of alphabetical charac- ters.
The Mexicans also, on the new Continent, had made some rude attempts of the same kind, but with less success than the Chinese.
s " Their letters, if we may so call them, were merely the symbols of ideas." Sir W, JoneS, Diss, on the Chinese, As. Diss. vol. i. 219. W.
352 APPENDIX. (B).
We know also that Hieroglyphics were in use among the Egyptians, posterior to the practice of alphabetical xvriting by the Jews: but whether the Epistolography, as it is called, of the former people, which was in vogue dur- ing the continuance of Hieroglyphics, might not possibly be another name for alphabetical writing, I will not take upon me to decide.
Now what will our adversaries reply to this? They will pertinaciously maintain, that alphabetical wrnting is a human int'ention: and yet all those nations, who have been conversant with this expedient, are discovered to have derived it from the same original, from some one'' people in the east, whose time and means of attaining it we cannot now certainly find out ; but are compelled to conclude from analogy, and the experience of other nations, that their imagination, as it M^as not more fer-
'' EytfoAep.oj ^s sv feu 'ffi^i 'Tojv bv Yri IsSocux. ^afiXscav, fov 'Toig IsScciots 'n'a.C'O'Jsvaf y.cci itx^a Is^aiajv ^oivina; •Ttoi^oi.Xtx.^siy'
Clem. Al. Strom. I. 413, ed. Pott.
Eupolemus, in his work concerning the kings who reigned in Judasa, says that Moses was the first wise man, and the first who taught the art of writing among the Jews, that the Phoe- nicians received it from the Jews, and the Greeks from the Phoenicians.
APPENDIX. (B.) , 353
tile, was not more successful, than that of their neighbours.
Ao-ain: Where laro-e communities have flourished for ages, but unconnected with those countries, which enjoyed this advantage, their own solitary exertions were never ca- pable of effecting this capital discovery. Is it possible for j)resumptive evidence to be more satisfactory than this?
IV. Lastly, We will consider the argu- ment upon which the commonly received opi- nion depends: that is, the natural gradation through the several species of symbols, ac- knowledged to have been in use with various people, terminating, at last, by an easy tran- sition, in the detection of alphabetical charac- ters. The ease of discovery is not, however, always to be judged of from it's apparent fa- cility after the discovery has taken place, as may be observed in the case of printing; nor can I, in the present instance, see this regu- larity of process, this ease of transition; so clearly as some others appear to do; but let every one determine for himself from the con- templation of the several stages of emblemati- cal representation.
1. The first method of embodying ideas would be, by drawing a representation of the objects themselves. The imperfection of this
VOL. II. 2 A
354 APPENDIX. (B.)
method is very obvious, both on account of it's tediousness, and it's inability of going, be- yond external appearances, to the abstract ideas of the mind.
2. The next method M'ould be somewhat more general, and would substitute two or three principal circumstances for the whole transaction. So two kings, for example, en- gaging each other with military weapons, might serve to convey the idea of a war be- tween two nations. This abbreviated method would be more expeditious than the former : but what it gained in conciseness, it would lose in perspicuity. The great desideratum would still be unatchieved. This is only a descrip- tion, more compendious indeed, but still a description, of outward objects alone, by draw- ing their resemblance. To this head, if I mis- take not, the picture writing of the Mexicans is to be referred.'
3. The next advance Avould be, to the use of symbols: the incorporation, as it were, of abstract and complex ideas in figures more or less generalised, in proportion to the improve- ment of it. Thus, in the earlier stages of this device, a circle might serve to express the sun^
^ See Cullen's translation of Clavigero's History of Mexico. 1. 409- W.
APPENDIX. (B.) 355
a semichrle the jJioo?i : which is only a contrac- tion of the foregoing method. This symbol writing in it's advanced state would groAv more refined, but senigmatical and mysterious in proportion to it's refinement. Hence it would become less fit for common use, and, there- fore, more particularly appropriated to the mysteries of philosophy and religion. Thus two feet standing upon water, served to express an impossibility : a serpent denoted the oblique trajectories of the heavenly bodies: and the beetle, on account of some supposed properties of that insect, served to represent the sun.. Of this nature were the Hieroglyphics of the JEgyptians.^
^ See Amm. Marc. xvii. 4. Diod. Sic, iii. 4.
Ilepf OS rwv Ai^iomnwv y^a^^ocrujv, roov iraf AiyvTftiots xa-
^aioXoysiJiSvcvv. crL)|XjSe/3>j>t£ Toivuv fsg /xev rvtsi vKct^yjlv
S' o^yavoi;, y.%i ^ccXkttcx, tsKroviKQi;. ou ya§ bk tr]; tojv cvXXa,' ^ujv (Tvv^Bcrsujg yj y^oL^iJ.oi.ti-Ky\ ita.^ avtoi; rov vita-KSi^svov Xoyoy a.itoh^voa'iv, &XX' s^ s^<^a.o'fwg rwv (j,sra,y§oi.<poi/.svujv, yccci (xera- fo^xg it^vfj^f) <rvvT^^Xrj^evyjs.y§a<p8(ri ya.§ U^cc^ioc, jtai k^okoSsiXov, iti (J'c<p<v, Kon T'C/v £K ta ffuiy^aro; twv av^^ouirwy 0(p^aX^ov, koh "XBi^a., KXi TTpotrooirov, kxi kts^x roiavra. o [xev ovv Is^a^ avfois <rv;aa(y£< TTavta, o^ewg yivoij^eva, Sia to '(,mov reto Tmv Tmjva;'/
{j^Brxfo^ai; si; itavra, ra o'c,Ba, nai ra, Tarois omsia, •jra^xitXr^TKAig tot; sicrifjjBvoig. 0 Ss K^OKohiXos cri(/,xvtiKOs ecr* iratrris Y.CK.ia.s,
2
356 . APPENDIX. (B.)
3. But, this method being too subtle and complicated for common use, the only plan to
6 h o^-SraXy.o;, o.y.r^g rriOr^rrjg, kxi tTo.vtos rs (Tcvu.aT'os <pvAX^. Tivy OS ar.^ujTr^cixv, rj u.sy h^ia re; cxy-tuXsg £/cr£ra]X£vouj eya- (TX, crr^y.aiysi (Bis Tro^iTij.o-/, tj' i' zimw^oc a-vvY/ij-cvr/, rrj^rjixiv y.oci <P'jXa-Kr^y X^r^ii^aroiy. o o'avrog /.oyo; y.ai siti twv aXXujy mru-y rwy £/t rs (ntj-^ato;, y.ai ri^y O'-^/c/.yiyjjy, xcci rujy c(.K?.xy airxv-rxv. rais yau ty ay.cca-T'oig sysTscig sy.fa.(re(ri a-jyxKoXa^syrsi, y.ai fXEKcryi TToXvy^^oytcy y.x\, \i^yri\hri yvy^ya'Coyrs; ra; vf't'Xa^, sxtux; kKxatz rxy yzy^a'X'Lcywy o:yy.yiyx7y,aiji. W.
The following is Lord Montboddo's translation of the most important passages of the preceding quotation :
" The figures used in hieroglyphics, were those of animals of all kindsj the members of the human body, and likewise the organs or instruments of art, chiefly those belongino" tp carpentry. For this kind of written language does not express it's meaning by composition of syllables, but by metaphorical or allegorical representations of things, which by use and exer- cise, are fixed in the memory, and so become familiar. The sym.bols they use are a hawk, a crocodile, a serpent j and of the human body, the eye, tke hand, the countenance, and such like. A hawk denotes every thing that is quickly done, be- cause this animal is the swiftest of all birds, and therefore is used metaphorically, to denote every thing that is quick, or has any relation to quickness. The crocodile signifies all kind of wickedness or evil 5 the eye, being the guard or keeper of the whole body, is the symbol of justice; the right-hand, with the fingers spread, denotes the acquiring and collecting what is necessary for life; the left-hand clenched, denotes the cus^ tody and preservation of those things. The like may be said of all the other figures from the human body, from instru- rriCnts of art, or other things. Of these representations, hav^^
APPENDIX. (B) 357.
be pHi'Siied, Mas a reduction of the first stage of the preceding method. Thus a dot, instead of a circle, might stand for the sun: and a similar ahbreviation miglit be extended to all the symbols. Upon this scheme, every object and every idea would have it's , appropriated mark: these marks, therefore, would have a multiplicity commensurate to the works of na- ture, and the operations of the mind. This method also was practised by t\\Q Egyptians, but has received it's highest perfection from the Chinese. Their vocabulary is consequently interminable, and almost infinite: so that the longest life is said to be incompetent to a com- plete acquaintance with it: and who does not see, that it may be extended to any assignable point whatever ? Now, if we compare this amazingly tedious, and cumbersome, and prolix contrivance, with the astonishing brevity and perspicuity of alphabetical writing, we must be persuaded, that no two things can readily be conceived more dissimilar, and that the tran- sition from a scheme constantly enlarging it- self and growing daily more intricate, to an expression of every possible idea by the modi- fied arrangement oi four <ind twenty marks, is
ing made the meaning familiar to them by constant use, they easily read what is written in that way." Diod. S. iii. 4.
^m-
3SS
APPENDIX. (B.)
not so very easy and perceptible, as some have imagined. Indeed, this seems to be still rather an expression of things by correlative charac- ters, like the second stage of symbol writing, than the notification of ideas by arbitrary signs. But, perhaps, we are not so intimately ac- quainted with the Chinese method, as will jus- tify any conclusions from it respecting this subject. We know, however, that it is widely different from the art of alphabetical zo^itingj and infinitely inferior to it.
Till these objections to the human hvoention of alphabetical characters are refuted, there will be no reason, I apprehend, to treat a dif- ferent supposition from that generally admit- ted, as chimerical, and destitute of philosophi- cal propriety.
As for the claim of the Mgyptians to the invention of letters, that will not appear very plausible to those who have read Dr. Wood- ward's Essay in the Archo^ologia, on the learn- ing of that people.
I will finish this imperfect dissertation by two or three remarks relating to the subject.
1. Pliny asserts the use of letters to have been eternal.^ This shows the antiquity of the
* " Ex quo apparet setemus literarum usus." vii, 50. A little higher he says, Literas semper arbitror Assyrias fuisse;
maintiin thetoii: ing of '
ascr
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"ekve ' rather
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: learn-
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ofilK
APPENDIX. (B.)
359
practice to extend beyond the £era of authentic history.
2. The cabalistical doctors of the Jews maintain that alphabetical writi?ig was one of the ten thino-s which God created in the even- ino; of the Sabbath. Br. Walton, prol. bibl. pol. sect. 2.
3. Most of the profane authors of antiquity ascribe the first use of alphabetical characters to the -/Egyptians ;■" who, according to some, received the expedient from Mercury," and, according to others, from the god Tenth. This ascription of alphabetic characters to a divine communication, shews the sense entertained by the ancients of the difficulty of the inven- tion. The Indian letters are in a similar man-
sed alii apud ^gyptios a Mercurio, ut Gellius, alii apud Syros repertas volunt." By the Syrians, in this passage, may be meant Jews, Judaea being frequently by ancient writers con- sidered as a province of Syria. W.
^ So, among others, Plato, in his Philebus and Phaedrus. In the former of these dialogues, he says, ETTsji'i) i^wvijv aiizi^ov ^arsyofjasv, sire n; Sisog, sirs x.a,i $rsiog avSj^cvitog, wg Koyo; sv KiyjTtliv 0£'jS riva r^rov ysvsar^ai Xsyojv. W. — " "Whoever it was, whether some God, or some divine man, (the ^Egyptian reports say that his name was Theuth) who first contemplated the infinite nature of the human voice," &c. Sydenham.
" 'EciXTjf Xsysrcti S-swv sv Aiyvitruj y^a,ij.ij.ara Tf^wrog sv^siv. Plut. Symp. probl. 1. ix, pr. 3. W. — Mercury is said first of the gods to have invented letters in Egypt.
358 APPENDIX. (B.)
not so very easy and perceptible, as some Iiave imagined. Indeed, this seems to be still rather an expression of things by correlative charac- ters, like the second stage of symbol writing, than the notification of ideas by arbitrary signs. But, perhaps, we are not so intimately ac- quainted with the Chinese method, as will jus- tify any conclusions from it respecting this subject. We know, however, that it is widely different from the art of alphabetical writings and infinitely inferior to it.
Till these objections to the human invention of alphabetical characters are refuted, there will be no reason, I apprehend, to treat a dif- ferent supposition from that generally admit- ted, as chimerical, and destitute of philosophi- cal propriety.
As for the claim of the ^Egyptians to the invention of letters, that will not appear very plausible to those who have read Dr. JVood- ward's Essay in the Archa^ologia, on the learn- ing of that people.
I will finish this imperfect dissertation by two or three remarks relating to the subject.
1. Pliny asserts the use of letters to have been eternal.^ This shows the antiquity of thg
* " Ex quo apparet seternus literarum usus." vii, 56. A little higher he says, Literas semper arbitror Assyrias fuisse?
APPENDIX. (B.) 359
practice to extend beyond the aera of authentic history.
2. The cabalistical doctors of the Jews maintain that alphabetical writing vv^as one of the ten things which God created in the even- ing of the Sabbath. Br. Walton, prol. bibl. pol. sect. 2.
3. Most of the profane authors of antiquity ascribe the first use of alphabetical characters to the ^Egyptians;"" who, according to some, received the expedient from Mercury/ and, according to others, from the god Tenth. This ascription of alphabetic characters to a divine communication, shews the sense entertained by the ancients of the difficulty of the inven- tion. The Indian letters are in a similar man-
' sed alii apud iEgyptios a Mercurio, ut Gellius, alii apud Syros repertas volunt." By the Syrians, in this passage, may be meant Jews, Judaea being frequently by ancient writers con- sidered as a province of Syria. W.
™ So, among others, Plato, in his Philebus and Phaedrus, In the former of these dialogues, he says, Ettej^'t; <pwv^v atfcifov xar£V0T;o'£v, sire ri^ bs.og, sirs x.a,i ^siog av^^cvTto;, ojg Xoyog sv Aiyvj/Icv @sv^ rivx mrov ysvscr^ai Xsyujv. W. — " Whoever it was, whether some God, or some divine man, (the jiEgyptian reports say that his name was Theuth) who first contemplated the infinite nature of the human voice," &c. Sydenham.
" 'EciXT]f Xzyzroii ^eujv sv Aiyvitfiv y^aiJ^iLara Tf^cuTos kv^siv. Plut. Symp. probl. 1. ix, pr. 3. W. — Mercury is said first of the gods to have invented letters in Egypt.
3C0-. APPENDIX. (B.)
iier ascribed by the Hindoos to a divine ort-
4. It is remarkable that history com- monly attributes the introduction of letters to some great traveller, a concurring proof of their derivation among different nations from a common source.
5. No mention is made of the alphabet in Homer/ though it appears to have been in use among the Jews long before his time.
6. Is there any reason to suppose, from the history of the human mind, that oral language, Avhich has long been perfect, beyond any me- morials of our species in heathen writers, and is co-eval with man, according to the testi- mony of scripture ; is there any reason, I say,
" " The characters in which the languages of India were originally \A'ritteH are called Najari, from Najar, a city, with the word Deva sometimes prefixed, because they are believed to have been taught by the Divinity himself, who prescribed the artificial order of them in a voice from heaven." Sir W. Jones. As. Diss. I. 105. W.
p On that passage of Homer, y.Xr^coy acrriij.r.yavT'o ay.cc<rroc, ' each put his mark upon his lot,' II. H, 1/5, the Scholiast re- marks, Eg 8 S-^Xoi, ott 8 yqai}.\i,ci.ti:L r^Ssia-av 6< H^'-vss, that ' the Heroes were ignorant of the use of letters.' The c-r^i^ata Kn- ycoc, ' pernicious signs,' mentioned in the story of Bel- lerophon, II. Z. l6S, appear to have been only arbitrary marks, the signification of which had been previously agreed upon between the correspondents. W.
APPENDIX. (B.> 351.
to suppose that even language itself is the ef- fect of human ingenuUij and e.rperience?'^
7. To suppose that the art of alphabetical
•1 The ancient writers were not insensible of the difficulty of language, and the admirable nature of this expedient for fixings arranging, and extending the conceptions of the intel- lect. Even a poet has recorded it among the wonderful at- tainments of man, that (fbsyiJ.a. sSiSa^aro, ' he has learnt the use of speech.' Soph. Ant, 360.
What credit then can be given to those theories, ingenious as wc allow them to be, which profess to develope the gradual structure of a complicated language from a few of the simplest elements, and which suppose this to have been effected by the sagacity of men, at a time when, according to the uniform testimony of all ages, and all reasonable deduction, the world •was in general immersed in a state of barbarism. Yet such speculations, if regarded in their proper light, are not desti- tute of utility. They develope those analogies on which a language of philosophical principles might be constructed, and by the light which they throw on universal grammar, may tend gradually to render existing languages more precise, s It is difficult, if not impossible, to account for the origin and progress of the arts and sciences, without supposing the operations of the human mind to have received their hrst moving impulse from a divine interposition. Man, we learn from experience, acquires his rational powers from instruction and imitation, and differs from the brutes only in his capacity for improvement. A body, under some circumstances, will proceed with an accelerated motion, but an extraneous force is absolutely necessary to remove it from a state of rest.
Socrates in the Phaedon of Plato, sensible of the difficulty of accounting for the intelledtual accomplishments of man by natural means, argues that all our knowledge is only remini- scence, derived from some prior state of being. W.
362 APPENDIX. (B.)
writing is the invention of man, is almost a philosophical impossibility, M'hen we consider that it must, in tins case, have been devised in the rudest state of human intellect, while typographii, a discovery less curious and saga- cious, eluded the detection of the most reiined ages of literary perfection.
APPENDIX. (C.)
LETTERS TO MR. WAKEFIELD
FROM
PROFESSORS HEYNE AND JACOBS.
Professor Heyne to Mr. Wakefield.
Transferendum curavi ad te, vir doctis- sime, cujus ingenium et eruditionem a multo inde tempore admiratus sum, libellum viri docti, Jacobs, ex mea disciplina progressi, quandoquidem ille et colit et amat te, et ves- tigia tua in noniiullis premit. Nihil eorum, quaj a te agimtur, et quae ad tua consilia spec- tant, a me non sedulo anquiritur, quantum quidem ex scriptis tuis aut ex recensibus in- diciisque aliorum consequi possum. Non itaque levis et temere concepta esse potest ea qua te prosequor voluntas, amor et studium. Tu ut valeas, et res tuas ex animo agas, precor.
Scr. Gottingse d. xH. Dec. cioioccxcvii.*
« I have transmitted to you, learned Sir, whose genius ani erudition have long been th? object of my admiration, a small
364 APPENDIX (C.)
Viro doctissimo Gilberto Wakefieli?
S C. G. Heyxe.
Cum antea, afFectu animi nescio quo, ^rg?& te, vir prgestantissime, feirer; nunc nuilto ma- jore animi studio incensum me sentio, ex quo Lucretium tuum perlegi. Etsi enim baud dif- fiteor, banc ipsam tuam benevolentiam, quam litteris tuis bumanissimis mibi es testatus, earn vim ad animum meum babuisse, ut etiam ab- enam a te voluntatem expugnare ea potuisset ; nunc autem procbve meum in te studium multo magis incbnare et impellere ea debuit : admi-
tract written by that distinguished scholai" Jacobs, whom I am proud to have had for my pupil j since he both highly honours you, and entertains the greatest esteem for you, and in many particulars treads in your footsteps, I spare no trouble to make myself acquainted with any literar^'^ object in which you may, from time to time, be engaged, as far as it is in my power, either by hints in your own works, from reviews, or by informa- tion from others. The great esteem and affection, therefore, which I have conceived for you, ought by no means to be con- sidered as hastily taken up, or as founded upon slight and trivial considerations. Farewell, and may you meet with suc- cess and prosperity in all your concerns,
CH. G. HEYNE, Prof. Acad. Ge. Aug. GoLtingcn, Dec. 12, 1797.
APPENDIX. (C.) 365
ratione tamen ingenii tui doctrioEeque exqui- site, et omni literarum copia instruct£e ita percussus ex ea lectione recessi, ut etiam du- bitarem, sitne voluptas et fructus, quern inde percepi, cum ea comparandus : certe utroque animi sensu ita contactum me sentii, ut inter jucundissima fortune munera numerem, quod contulit ilia mihi opportunitatem compellandi te, et contrahendi banc litterarum studiorum- que necessitudinem. Utinam ex incredibili tuo de litteris antiquis merendi studio fructus consequaris uberrimos ! Nihil video quod mihi auditu jucundius futurum esse possit, quam te gperatum meritis tuis favorem, et operie in Lu- cretium expense premia tuhsse largissima ! Quam vellem consilium tuum ejusque fortunam non premi temporum iniquitate ! Comparatione enim aliarum terrarum facile licet conjectare, que litterarum bonarum esse possit auctoritas apud Britannos. Providebit tamen bonis con- siliis bonum providumque numen. Vale, et quod ingressus es favoris benevolentieque tue stadium ita emetiendum tibi esse puta, ut tibi constantie laudem ceteris laudibus adjiciendum esse memineris in diligendo eo cui semel bene- volentiam tuam egregio voluntatis pignore es testatus. Cum primum belli furor resederit, mittam tibi mee voluntatis testem iteratam Pindari, et tertiam TibuUi editionem a me cu-
366 APPENDIX. (C.)
ratam. Nunc in Iliade exprimenda operae li- brariorum occupantur. Vale."*
'' My bosom previously glowing with a certain undefinable affection for you, most learned Sir, I now feel its warmth very considerably increased on my perusal of your Lucretius. For, although I scruple not to avow that the kind and friendly sentiments expressed in your polite letter to me, had on my mind an influence sufficient even to have overcome a disposi« tion averse to you, if such a disposition could have existed, and therefore unavoidably tending to give a decisive impulse to my heart, already biassed in your favour ; yet, so power- fully did the contents of those volumes excite my admiratiorj of your genius, and of your rare and universal erudition, that I even felt a doubt, whether the sensations produced by the pleasure and improvement which I reaped from your pages, could bear any comparison with it. So strong indeed has been the united effect of both, that I reckon as one of the most grateful boons of fortune, her kindness in favouring me with an opportunity of addressing you ; and of thus entering with you into the intimacy of literary correspondence. Heaven grant that your surprizing exertions in serving the cause of antient literature, may prove productive to you of a rich har- vest of advantage ! I cannot anticipate any event of which the intelligence will come more pleasing to my ear, tlian that you have experienced the public countenance in a degree comment surate with what your merits entitle you to expect, and that you have received the most ample rew^ards of the attention and labour which you have bestowed upon Lucretius, How fer- vently do I wish, that the unpropitious aspect of the times may not frown upon your undertaking, and darken the prospect of its success ! For, from the example of other countries, it be- comes easy to conjecture what share of estimation the belles Id ires are likely to enjoy in Great Britain. But the all-graci-
APPENDIX. (G). 867
Professor Jacobs to Mr. Wakefield.
Gotha^ June 29, 1797.
SIR,
By the kindness of the learned Mr. Heyne you m^II receive this letter, joined to one of my newest publications, which I hope you will do me the honour of accepting, as a mark of my esteem and gratitude for the plea- sure the perusal of your ingenious works has given me.
In presenting you this little performance, I cannot forbear signifying the wish to obtain
ous and all provident Being will not fail to extend his benign protection to laudable intentions. Farewell ! and since you have thus entered upon the career of good-will and kindness towards me, may it be your care so steadily to pursue it, that to your other praises may be added that of constancy in affec- tionate regard for him whom you once have honoured with a valuable testimony of your friendly disposition. So soon as the tumult of war shall have subsided, 1 will send to you, as a pledge of my affection, a second edition of my Pindar, and a third of my Tibullus. 1 have one of the Iliad at this time in the press. Adieu.
This letter is without a date^ but was received July 10,
1798.
36s APPENDIX. (C).
the approbation of so perfect a critic, the countryman and rival of the Bentleys, the Toups and Tyrwhitts. In forming this wish — an ambitious one — I found my hope upon the favourable judgment with which, in your De- lectus Trag^diarum, you have honoured some of my conjectures on Euripides.
As you have been pleased to bestow your approbation upon so imperfect a work, as my Animadversions in Euripiden — the performance of a youth whose talents, at the publication of it, were far from being ripened, — I flatter my- self with the hope that your favourable opinion will not be diminished by the perusal of a more elaborate one, though, with respect to its contents, less interesting. But whatsoever will be your sentence, you must be persuaded^, that I shall be, with the greatest esteem,
Sir,
Your most humble servant,
Frederick Jacobs.
APPENDIX. (C.) 369
Gotlia, Sept. 17, 1/98.
I HAD not so long omitted, Sir, to return you my thanks for the obliging letter you have had the kindness to favour me with, but that I expected the achieving of the first volume of notes on the Greek Anthology, which I have the honour to send you by this. In these notes you will find your name very often quoted, as in your works you have illustrated and corrected a great number of Greek Epi- srrams ; and if I have not ever subscribed to your opinion, I have almost ever applauded your sagacity, learning, and refined taste.
Your notes on the Hecuba of Euripides I have read with great pleasure and improve- ment. Your edition of Moschus and Bion, a copy of which I have received by your kind- ness, has given me great delight, as I have ever treated these two poets with great predi- lection. I have even published an edition of them in the same year, as your edition has been printed; but I readily confess that you have surpassed me as far as the Delphis of Theocritus rov x^^^Uvtcx. T^e)(^uv e(pdoi^6 (piXeuov. The more valuable part of my book, I dare VOL. ir. 2 B
370 APPENDIX. (C.)
say, is the Preface, where you will find some corrections not unworthy perhaps of your ap- probation.
Of your edition of Lucretius the learned Dr. Heyne has given a very ample account in the Gottinger Anseigen, where he speaks of your talents, erudition, and ability, in terms of the highest admiration. As for me, I have not yet been so happy as to have a sight of this splendid work ; English books being vara aves in our country ; but I hope to prevail on Mr. Giester to enrich the Duke's library with so valuable a performance. I protest you, Sir, that, as I have ever admired your learn- ing and fertility, so I do now your zeal in pro- moting literature. Surely you could not give stronger proof of it, than by publishing at your expence such a work in so disastrous a time.
I have the honour, Sir, to be, with the greatest consideration,
Your most humble,
And most obedient servant,
F. Jacobs,
APPENDIX. (C.) 371
Gotha, July 18, I789. DEAR SIR,
I HAVE had the favour of two of your letters; the first of January, the second of March, this year, hoth advertising me that you have had the kindness to send me a copy of your Lucretius. I do not know, hy what ^n unlucky accident this valuable present, which I looked upon already, as one of the most splendid ornaments of my collection, is not arrived.
Your embarrassments, I hope, are quite over now. When the newspapers spoke of them, you may be persuaded. Sir, that I was sincerely concerned for you. Nothing can befal you, that should be indifferent to me.
I return 3^ou, Sir, my sincerest thanks for the few but excellent remarks upon Philostra- tus, inserted in your letter of the 25th January. If it was not too indiscreet, I could indeed venture to desire an extract of all your con- jectures upon the Imagines of the two Philo- strati, which I have a mind to give an edition of. If ever I should execute this project, your remarks would be a very excellent addition to my commentaries. 2
^
3f2 APPENDIX. (C.)
At the same time with this letter, I send you the third volmtie of my notes to the An- thology, of which I beg your acceptance.
I remain, Sir, With the truest sentiments of esteem.
Your obliged friend and servant, Frederic Jacobs.
Gotha, May 2, 1801,
DEAR SIR,
Your last favour of Nov, 23, 1800, has not reached me but yesterday. I under- stand by it, with very great uneasiness, that one of your letters has miscarried, as I have been favoured by none of yours since that, which contains some observations on the second volume of my Ex'ercitationes Critics.
As for your Lucretius, I am persuaded that some malevolent dsemon, en win o; me the possession of so precious a work, has his hand in this affair. Last summer, being at (iot- tingen, I took a sight of that splendid edition which does so much honour to your erudition,
My Cc-
goes on tM
iiitliToL-
bytknra
wproc
fflODli!. '
May. ;
ex:-;.-. Or. I
mnTnmi»?inmT»?»mnm^M;'t'i'<nM.'-i! :^;^i^- ! ■ 'ifmnrin ■\ii
tAiiHU' - ' > ' < tiil tlli£li»ij
APPENDIX. (C.)
373
le .lu- ce.
iiCOBS,
HfUiOi.
■ r ?i l«00,
.' DflJer- ^gi,.3C£, that i^lbave ■ce that,
4B persQided
. :- . mp tll6
. i: Cot-
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and to the elegance of your taste. I cannot express to you the uneasiness I feel upon seeing me deprived of it.
My Commentary on the Greek Anthology goes on without interruption. As soon as the fifth volume will be published, I shall send it by the way of a friend, who is in regular cor-r respondence with English merchants.
As you are leaving, you say, the place of your present abode at the latter end of this month, I congratulate you with all ray heart. May, for the future, a continual fortune ac- company you.
We have here notice of your undertaking a Greek Dictionary, and of the well-merited good-fortune you have had to find a sufficient number of subscribers. Such a work, tiresome as it is, may be looked upon as the most useful a scholar of your rank can undertake. We expect here a new edition of the Thesaurus Gr. L. in eight vols. fol. by the learned Mr. Niclas, the editor of the Geoponica. He has spent half his life in the execution of this im- mense undertaking.
I remain, with particular attachment, Dear Sir, Your most obedient friend,
Frederic Jacobs.
$f2 APPENDIX. (C.)
At the same time with this letter, I send you the third volume of my notes to the An- thology, of which I beg your acceptance.
I remain, Sir, With the truest sentiments of esteem.
Your obhged friend and servant, Frederic Jacobs,
Gotha, May 2, 1801. DEAR SIR,
Your last favour of Nov. 23, 1800, has not reached me but yesterday. I under- stand by it, with very great uneasiness, that one of your letters has miscarried, as I have been favoured by none of yours since that^ which contains some observations on the second volume of my Ejcercitationes Critic^e,
As for your Lucretius, I am persuaded that some malevolent daemon, envvin": me the possession of so precious a work, has his hand in this affair. Last summer, being at Got- tingen, I took a sight of tliat splendid edition which does so much honour to your erudition,
APPENDIX. (C.) 373
and to the elegance of your taste. I cannot express to you the uneasiness I feel upon seeing me deprived of it.
My Commentary on the Greek Anthology goes on without interruption. As soon as the fifth volume will be published, I shall send it by the way of a friend, who is in regular cor- respondence with English merchants.
As you are leaving, you say, the place of your present abode at the latter end of this month, I congratulate you with all my heart. May, for the future, a continual fortune ac- company you.
We have here notice of your undertaking a Greek Dictionary, and of the well-merited good-fortune you have had to find a sufficient number of subscribers. Such a work, tiresome as it is, may be looked upon as the most useful a scholar of your rank can undertake. We expect here a new edition of the Thesaurus Gf\ L. in eight vols. fol. by the learned Mr. Niclas, the editor of the Geoponica. He has spent half his life in the execution of this im- mense undertaking.
I remain, with particular attachment, Dear Sir, Your most obedient friend,
Frederic Jacobs.
374 APPENDIX. (C.)
Have the kindness, Sir, to let me know, if after 3^our leaving Dorchester I have to direct my letters 3.1 Hacknei/, near Loudon, or elsewhere.
[On the envelope is thejollozcing:]
Professor Timaens, of the Royal College, Luneburg, presents his most respectful compli- ments to Mr. Wakefield, and will be very happy if he can be of any service to him in forwarding any letters or parcels to Professor Jacobs, of Gotha.
Luneburg, May 1 7, 1801.
In case this letter should not find Mr. Wakefield at Dorchester, the Rev. Dr. Geddes, Alsop's Buildings, Marybone, London, is most respectfully desired to take care of this letter, and forward it to Mr. Wakefield.
Gotha, June 20, 1801. DEAR SIR,
I HAVE the honour to inform you by this letter that a few days after I had dis- patched my last, your Lucretius, post multa
APPENDIX. (C.) 375
discrimina rerum, has finally reached the con- tinent, and is now in my hands. I cannot de- scrihe you the pleasure I felt at the view of this excellent work, the intrinsic value of which corresponds so perfectly with its exter- nal beauty. This is so generally acknowledged amongst the literati in German}^ tliat your text of Lucretius, being considered as the most correct by far, has been reprinted, with a few occasional alterations, in a new edition of this poet, undertaken by one Professor Eich- staedt at Jena, an Humanist of merit.
In the preface he has these words. In- speranti mihi, sed valde optanti, cecidit, ut, dum de novo illo instituto consilia agitaremus, preHs tandem Britannicis exiret diu promissa Wakefieldi editio, tot tantisque virtutibus ex- splendescens, ut exspectationem quantum vis magnam, non ?equasse, sed longe superasse, jure existimaretur.— Ac vere mihi videor hoc esse dicturus, ante W. cum librariorum stu- por, et editorum audacia Lucretium nobis pcx^ne eripuissent, hunc demum criticum, dijudicatis revocatisque optimorum librorum lectionibus praiclare effecisse, ut Lucretium in Lucretio agnosceremus.
It is with the utmost pleasure, that I am informed, by your kind favour of 26th May, of your leaving the place of your confinement.
376 APPENDIX. (C.)
Be persuaded, dear Sir, that I heartily partake of the joy you must feel on your being re- stored to your friends and family. May no misforiune ever befall you again ! and may you enjoy, in return for those past displeasures, all the ease and tranquillity, the possession of which is, without doubt, the greatest blessing Heaven can bestow on us feeble mortals !
With this letter you will receive a new volume of my Commentaries, which I beg you to accept with your usual kindness. If you have any observations to make upon them, as I don't doubt you have, you will highly oblige me by the communication of them.
You may be persuaded that nothing is so agreeable to me, as the proofs of friendship and benevolence you have the kindness to give me. I shall endeavour to merit them by every return it will be in my power to make.
I remain, dear Sir, With the greatest respect and affection. Your most humble servant,
Frederic Jacobs.
APPENDIX. (D.)
EXTRACT FROM THE APPENDIX
TO
MR. WAKEFIELD'S PRINTED DEFENCE.
Hackney, February 23, l/pp.
When my trial was notified for decision during the sittings after last term, I wrote to the Duke of Grafton, the Bishops of Glouces- ter, Lincoln, and Norwich, the Dean of Ely, George Hibbert, Esq. and Mr. Vince, to re- quest of them a general attestation to the in- tegrity and sincerity oi my manners; as a mea- sure which might be essentially contributive to my acquittal, and perhaps save me from a rigorous imprisonment. The following is the Duke of Grafton's letter;^ which, I am per- suaded, he will not be displeased with me for presenting to the reader, as a testimonial very honourable to w?e, and, I hope, not disgraceful to himself.
* Read by Mr. Wakefield on his defence.
378 APPENDIX. (D.)
Euston, Feb. 2, lyQQ. REV. SIR,
I AM rendered, by a most irksome disorder, which has not allowed me to stir out of the house, except for air and a little exer- cise, for many months past, totally incapable of appearing any where in public. This will deprive me of the satisfaction I should other- wise have had in giving my personal testimony of that consideration, in which I hold vour character, esteeming you for that integrity, conscientiousness, and sincerity, which direct you in all your actions; and which add much lustre to your learned labours in the cause of virtue and religion.
The same grievous complaint, which dis- ables me from being present at the trial, ren- dered me unfit to attend my duty last session in parliament; and, I fear, will likewise pre- vent me this year from the discharge of that as well as other functions.
I am, Rev. Sir, With sincere regard and esteem,
Your faithful and obedient servant,
Grafton.
To the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, Mare Stjreetj Hackney.
APPENDIX. (D.) 379
Though my acquaintance with, the Bishop of Gloucester"' had been longer suspended than with the rest, and my communication, with him, since I left college, had been con- tinued only by the mutual exchange of ttvo letters many years ago, he returned a very polite answer to my request; and, whatever insufficiency I may impute to his excuse, he has not forfeited that opinion of benevolence and liberality, which I have ever annexed to his character. To the Bishop of Lincoln's letter I request the particular attention of the reader, and his comparison of it with the sub- joined extracts of former letters,
SIR,
I RECEIVED your letter this morninsT,
%■' O'
and according to your desire I take the earliest opportunity of answering it. That I once thought well of you, and that I felt a real re- gard for you, I shall ever be ready to declare; but I must beg to call to your recollection, that my acquaintance with you was prior to ANY of your writings upon religion or poli-
*> Dr. Beadon.
3S0 APPENDIX. (D.)
tics. For these last tm^enty years I have known you only by your pubUcations; and it is with pain I say, that those pubHcations woukl not allow me to speak favorably of your intention and disposition. I sincerely lament the change of my opinion ; but I think it right to state to you without reserve, that in my judgment the declaration of my present sen- timents concerning you would be injurious rather than useful to you upon your trial.
I am. Sir, Your obedient servant,
G. LlNCOLIs%
Buckden Palace, January 31st, l/QQ.
Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, Hackney.
DEAR SIR,
The expectation of being able very soon to call upon you at Richmond has con- stantly prevented my answering your letter. I will not however any longer delay to assure you that it will give me real pleasure if I have an opportunity to recommend any pupils to
7
APPENDIX. (D.) 381
your care. I am thoroughly satisfied that you will do them the most ample justice.
Believe me to be,
Dear Sir, Your most faithful friend, G. Pretyman.
Downing Street, August 11, 1/84.
The Rev. Gilbert JFaheJield, Richmond^ Surrey^
DEAR SIR,
I RECEIVED the favour of your letter, and beg leave to express to you my sincere acknowledgments for your kind congratula- tions: they were truly acceptable to me, as coming from a person whom I respect as well for tlie qualities of his heart as for his literary attainments. I shall be very ghi.d to give you an opportunity of judging M'herher (h'ilerence of situation has caused in me any difference of behaviour; if any thing should bring you to town, or into my neighbourhood, in the coun- try, I hope you will not forget your old Cam- bridge acquaintance. ^
382 APPENDIX. (D.)
You see I write to you as an old friend.
Believe me, With great truth and respect, Dear Sir, Your sincere friend and obedient servant,
G. Lincoln Elect
Great George Street, March 2, 1787.
The Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, Nottingham.
DEAR SIR,
^ I RECEIVED the favour of your letter
this morning, and am very glad that you have given me an opportunity of explaining my be- haviour, which must appear very strange to you.
I sincerely hope that I may be more for- tunate upon any future occasion of the same sort: if any thing should bring you to Buck- den, or to town, I shall be truly glad to see you.
I thank you very much for your new edi- tion of Virgil's Georgics; I am going towards
APPENDIX. (D.) 383
tlie sea in a few days, and shall take it with me. I am very glad that you have leisure, and retain inclination, for such pursuits. I have to regret, that my time is almost wholly occupied by the duties of my situation.
Believe me with great regard, Dear Sir, Your faithful friend and obedient servant,
G. Lincoln.
Buckden Palace, July 22d, 1788.
Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, Nottingham.
LymingtoOj July 21 st^ 1789. DEAR SIR,
Your letter found me at this place, and I should have taken an earlier opportunity of acknowledging it, if I could have answered it in a manner more conformable to my wishes and feelings.
I flatter myself that you will not suspect that any alteration has taken place in that re-
384 APPENDIX. (D.)
spect and friendship which I always professed for you. Be assured that it M'ill give me most sincere pleasure, if, contrary to my expecta- tions, I should ever have it in my power to promote your wishes.
I am, dear Sir,
Your very faithful friend and obedient servant,
G. Lincoln.
The Rev. Mr. JVahefield, Nottinghayn.
In addition to these letters, it has been sig- nified to me, since I came to Hackney, several times within these last seten vears, throuijh intermediate acquaintances and relations, that the bishop would be gratified by seeing me at the deanery in London ; and his particular compliments were conveyed to me by a rela- tion on a visit to him in town, a former pu- pil of mine, who came immediately from St* Paul's to my house at Hackney. It must be noted also, that my most obnoxious and ob- servable religious publications, my Commentary on St. MattheWy and Enquiri/ into the earlij Christian Writers, made their appearance in 17H2 and 1784. What sort of testimony my old friend Pretyman could have given to my
APPENDIX. (D.) 385
sincerity and integrity, I will not take upon me to affirm: but certainly I have enabled all men to discover what he has given to his own. The same remark is unhappily applicable to the following letters from the Bishop of Nor- wich; and with most sincere sorrow of heart have I experienced on this occasion the me- lancholy operations of security and ambition in corrupting such an affable, unaffected, and intelligent man as Dr. Pretyman, and a person, of manners so truly polite and amiable and eno-ao-ing: as Dr. Sutton. How should I have exulted on their account, as well as my oxvn^ if they had not abandoned me in an extremity, which would have done so much honour to that disinterested testimony in my favour, so reasonably expected from them; so much ho- nour to their friendship and humanity !
Norwich, Feb. 3, 1799* SIR,
»>
Your letter of the 29th ult. reached me yesterday, but, because of the intemper- ance of the weather, too late to be answered by that night's post.
VOL. II. * C
38(5 APPENDIX. (D.)
The nature and extent of that evidence which I shall be competent to give, if called upon in a court of justice, respecting your character for veracity and integrity, you are as able to estimate as I am. The intercourse that subsisted between us, was at no time of that intimate nature that should entitle me to speak, of my own knowledge, to eithen I re- spected, and respect you as a scholar: and of the rest of your character I knew and know nothing, but in common with the public.
I have the honour to be, Sir, Your faithful humble servant,
C. Norwich.
Mr, Gilbert Wakefield, Hackney.
MY DEAR SIR,
Among the many letters of congra- tulation on my late advancement, none has given me more pleasure than that which I have this moment received from you. The favorable testimony of an old acquaint- ance, and a man of great learning, cannot but be highly flattering to me. If business
APPENDIX. (D.) ^ 387
should at any time bring you to London, I hope you will give me an opportunity of shak- ing hands with you in Wimpole-street.
From, MY DEAR SIR,
YOUR SINCERE FRIEND,
and faithful humble servant,
C. Norwich.
April the 6th, 1 792. The Rev. Gilbert Wakejield, Hackney.
From Dr. Pearce, Master of Jesus College, Cambridge, and Dean of Ely, I received a very short and impudent epistle.
SIR,
As I have nothing to say, that can be of any service to you on your trial, I hope you will not give me the trouble of appearing on the occasion.
I am, Sir, Your most obedient servant,
W. Pearce.
Jesus Coll. Jan. 31, 1799.
The Rev, Mr. Wakejield, Hackney.
APPENDIX. (E.)
AN
ADDRESS TO THE JUDGES,
IN THE
COURT OF KING'S BENCH,
ON THURSDAY, APRIL 18, 1799.
MY LORDS,
Jdy a precipitate decision on the guilt of my intentions ye are now empowered, with a privi- lege of most awful responsibility, under which I had much rather be the sufferer than the agent — to m^ict punishmeiit on me for the sup- posed errors or perversities of my understand- ing. Now such punishment and such offences, whatever the irrational and indistinct concep- tions of rude antiquity may have sanctioned by authority, prescribed by records, and estab- lished by precedent, are so essentially inappli-
APPENDIX. (E.) 3^9
cable to each other, that I may securely chal- lenge the M'hole aggregate of human intellect to point out the least affinity between them.
Represent to yourselves the palpable dis- tinction between transactions of this nature, and a case of active violence or positive hos- tility. Have I injured another by assault upon his person, or depredation on his estate? Though I regard all corporal punishment as universally indefensible in itself, because in- finitely pernicious in it's effects, still the re- straint of confinement becomes unquestionably a suitable expedient for the prevention of similar mischiefs from the same aggressor, till he be brought to a due sense of his in- justice, and prove the sincerity of this con- viction by such demeanour, as implies a radi- cal reformation of his principles: otherwise, iniquity and confusion from the unrestrained intemperances of selfish and licentious men would sweep away the floodgates of society, and desolate the comforts of civil life. But, with respect to opinions and exertions of in- tellect in written appeals to the understandings of men, who call themselves free, where actual violence is not only not exerted, but dis- couraged and condemned in explicit language; if the most shadowy pretence for personal in- commodity of any kind can be ascertained by
390 APPENDIX. (E.)
a rational manifestation of correspondency be- tween these objects, I will readily contribute iny assenting suffrage to any punishment, Avhich shall be appointed for me: if however the proof of such connexion transcend, as it certainly does transcend, all capacity of moral demonstration, I may be the sufferer^ but others must be the criminals; and criminals of no ordinary magnitude.
In a pamphlet lately published in vindica- tion of the Bridewell of Cold Bath Fields, a position to the following purport is propounded, as the basis of the penal regulations in that place: " Punishment and restraint must be employed, until the mind of the prisoner is subdued ;" the precise meaning of which words cannot be collected so well from any accuracy of expression in the maxim, as from the preva- lent conceptions on the subject of corrective punishment in general; but the fun'damental notion seems to be, a supposition of meliora- tion to the dispositions of an offender by a system of severity; an expectation, that re-' pentance and reformation may ht forced on the mind through violence and rigour. Now it appears to me most indubitable from every principle of reason and every deduction of ex- perience, that effects of a nature extremely different must unavoidably take place from
APPENDIX. (E.) 391
harshness and austerity: namely, exasperation and obduracy on the part of a person thus treated; not without a gradual extinction, in the punisher, of all those charities and sensi- bilities which alone redeem our natures from a degradation below the savageness of mere brutality. It may be the fond vision of a de- luded imagination, but I have always cherished an opinion, that the very hypothesis of a ra- tional agent, unamendable by benignity and compassion, and reclaimable by severities alone to humanity and virtue, is the bitterest satire on the wisdom of Omnipotence; as the creator of the most sottish and perverse being in exis- tence: and, beyond all controversy, if the re- lio'ion of our o-entle ]\Iaster teach not his dis- ciples a most aifectionate consideration for all their brethren of mankind, and especially for those, who have gone astray from the path of virtue,* it teaches nothing; because this love of our fellow-creatures is most peremp- torily laid down by the favorite disciple, as the only genuine attestation of our love for God himself; — as the sum and substance of all moral excellence: but vexatious and harassing: oppression has never yet been deemed an in-
» " Count him not as aa enemy, but admonish him as a brother." 2 Thess. ii, 15. W.
392 APPENDIX. (E.)
gredient in the composition of evangelical benevolence; nor can a single syllable in sup- port of such uncompassionate persuasions be produced from the Christian Scriptures. > Were even a murderer committed to my custody, I should endeavour to impress upon his mind a deep sensation of the injustice and atrocity of his offence : I should labour to con- vince him that exclusion from society was in- dispensable, not only for the good of the com- munity, but for the prevention also of accu- mulated guilt upon his own head: yet I would address him in the kind language of expostu- lation and rebuke: I would regard him with generosity and tenderness : I would prove my- self his friend by every exertion of sympa- thetic attention in my power to his most cala- mitous condition: I would shev\% that I lored the man, though I abhorred his offence: if he were hungry, I would feed him ; if he were thirsty, I would gi've him drink: nor should I despair of overcoming evil with good; of pro- ducing remorse unfeigned, and substantial re- formation, by this lenient and peaceful pro- cess. Thus would my own benevolent affec- tions be essentially improved, the great law of brotherly love, enacted in the Gospel, fulfilled by a just obedience; and a brand plucked from the fire to repentance and salvation.
APPENDIX. (E.) 393
But present this subject to your attention in another and a very interesting attitude. All of us, I presume, are ready to confess, that we have repeatedly violated our rule of life, — the precepts of Christ — in opposition to the convictions of kno\vledge and the voice of conscience. Now, can we discover a plan in the dispensations of divine government to sub- due our minds by punishment and restraint into a sense of religious duty? Or rather must we not perceive an unceasing endeavour on the part of our heavenly Father to recover the af- fections of his children by indulgences and mercies ; conformably to our best conceptions of a placable and gracious being; by making his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, by sending rain from heaven, and fruitful seasofis, to gladden the hearts both of' the just and unjust?
Did not the Saviour of the world assi- duously cherish deluded sinners "^ with pecu- liar commiseration and most affectionate re- gard, as needing beyond all others the medi- cinal application of his restoring love to the maladies of their hearts and understandings? Now these severities and oppressions which the high and lofty one, who inhabiteth eternity, does not practise on the reptile man, shall that
" Matt. ix. 10—13. W.
394 APPENDIX, (E.)
reptile presume to practise, under I know not what pretence of subchdNg, forsooth, to refor- mation, on a creature of the same feelings and infirmities with himself?
But an adversary, i^erhaps, will be forward with this objection: " The opinions, main- tained and propagated by yon, are calculated to create dissatisfaction with the measures of government, and eventually to overtlirow our establishments in Church and State." My re- ply is this: If our constitution be radically defective, nor intrinsically adapted to promote the moral and intellectual happiness of the subject, — the true end of civil institutions ; it is the duty, ye will all allow, of every man, a duty paramount and antecedent to any poUr tical connexion, to point out those deficiencies, and to labour their correction by every paci- fic operation in his power; I mean by the ra- tional procedure of argumentative persuasion unaccompanied by any species of violence and coercion; which are modes of reformation fit only for barbarians to employ on brutes.
Ao'ain ; if o'overnors be conscious to them- selves of their own rectitude and virtue; if their primary motive be a purely patriotic wish to advance the M'elfare of the governed with- out too partial a respect to their own interests and ao-grandisement; such governors have no
APPENDIX. (E.) 395
reason for solicitude from the calumnies of any factious writer, who has undertaken the hope- less task of arguing men out of their feelings and experiences, and of urging them to de- stroy those salutary institutions, which render them virtuous and prosperous and happy. No: pure and upright ministers may safely deride the impotent malignity of their opponents. Abuse and calumny, so far from endangering the condition of such ministers, will contri- bute to their reputation and security: as the mist, which obscures the horizontal sun, forms gradually under his potent influence those silver fleeces, that add new glories to his meri- dian resplendency. The importunate croak- insfs of rooks and ravens" cause no disturbance or interruption to the king of birds, as "he sails with supreme dominion through the fields " of aether.
Or I might say, that all human institutions must ever remain imperfect, and susceptible of improvement, from the very nature of their authors: that my efforts are exerted for the rectification of our political dispositions by means altogether alien from persecution, ani- mosity, and bloodshed : and that a forceful molestation of such attempts to reform what was originally defective, and what Time, the
^ Pind. 01. ii. 157 . W.
396 APPENDIX. (E.)
great destroyer, without occasional inter- ference, must daily and hourly vitiate with clandestine ravages, is a crime much morer heinous than the crime of sedition in a states in proportion as a violation of institutes merely human falls short in guilt of an oppo- sition to the divine purpose in the regulation of the universe. And in this case, where the competency of judgment in the contending parties may be reasonably taken into the ge- neral account, the opinions of men, become unstable by whirling in the giddy sphere of interest and ambition, may peradventure be justly deemed less respectable, than the sober decisions of those, who stand aloof from sucli perverting influences, and have discarded the gorgeous and fascinating idolatries of a lucra- tive Ambition for the simple and sober worship of unendowed Philosophy.
But I will propose a case striking and de- cisive, with reference to my own : wherein, though the dignity of the respective characters, will admit no comparison, the transactions themselves come attended with every corre- spondency of circumstance ; and are indeed intrinsically the same. My example shall be taken from the conduct of the primitive Evan- gelists: and in the mean time, I cannot but premise a declaration of most problematical
APPENDIX. (E.) 397
astonishment; by what machinations of self- imposing sophistry, we, who pride ourselves on a veneration of Christianity, and are so much engaged in healing, at least, if not read- ing and meditating, the repositories of sacred Truth, not only replete with rules of morality directed to the understanding, but with sub- stantial occurrences adapted to daily practice; I cannot but marvel, I say, by what secret il- lusion we reconcile our hearts to so total a disregard in our conduct of these living oracles^ as if they were no more than obsolete statutes, or antiquated institutions, superseded by the wise discoveries of a more illuminated sera; as if they were but a dead letter of neutral spe- culation, not a spiritual energy, to be trans- fused into the life and conversation of be- lievers. But unquestionably nominal profes- sors, and practical contemners, of the Gospel incur a criminality abundantly exceeding the guilt of any avowed irreligion or undisguised atheism, so petulantly, so undistinguishingly, imputed to our neighbours. They may be truly audacious and irreverent; but we aggra- vate that audacity and irreverence by a most odious hypocrisy.
With this introduction, they, who sincerely venerate the Gospel, will come properly pre- pared for my statement. Propose to your dis-
SgS APPENDIX. (E.)
passionate attention that transaction in the Acts of the Apostles, where Peter and his brethren are summoned before a Council of Jewish magistrates to give an account of their conduct for presuming to disobey the injunc- tions of tlie Sanhedrim by executing their evangehcal office in preaching to the people. Let us exhibit to our minds as accurately as we can the different apprehensions and mo- tives of the accusers and the defendants in this example. The accusers, men of learning, distinction, and authority, but inattentive, as this description of people are uniformly repre- sented in the Scriptures, to every object not immediately connected with their own emolu- ment or power, probably knew nothing of the Apostles but from rumour, and the relation of those, who had apprehended them, in conse- quence of what was deemed a tumultuary con- course in the city. Common fame had stig- matised them as seditious innovators, dis- turbers of the public peace, enemies to Caesar and to the civil and political constitution of their country. Under these impressions and appearances, will the history of mankind allow us to wonder at the severities exercised in va- rious instances on these faithful followers of their divine Master; the severities of bodily castigation and imprisonment ?
APPENDIX. (E.) 399
1 suppose we are all very ready to acknowledge the culpability of the Jewish rulers on these oc- casions, and the laudable perseverance of the Apostles in their purpose. But observe in one instance, where the simple fact is a tumultuous assemblage in the city, and a presumption of mischievous incitement to confusion lies against Peter and his brethren; observe, I say, in one instance, when, they ware examined for these appearances of outrage before the Sanhedrim, what was the result: a result v/hich all go- vernors in every age, who profess any reve- rence for the Scriptures, are bound to respect and imitate, at their peril, in similar examples of abstinence, on the side of the arraigned party, from actual violence to the community. Whilst the majority of the judges were recom- mending or approving the severest punish- ments, under the influence, I presume, of the modern notion, that " Minds must be subdued by rigour and oppression to a love of virtue," Gamaliel, one of their number, a man of learn- ing and distinguished reputation, interposed with this plain and sensible advice: Refrain from these men, and let them alone: for, if this counsel, or this woi^k, be of men, it zviil come to nought ; but, if it he of God, ye cannot oxier- throw it, lest haply ye be found even to fght
400 APPENDIX. (E.)
against God.^ The Jewish magistrates, with singular wisdom and moderation, adopted this counsel. The Apostles were discharged, and left to their pacific employment of refuting error and enforcing truth after their own dis- cretion, without punishment or molestation.
Now every propagator of an opinion, fraught with benevolence and instinct with universal happiness, though he be the most in- significant of all his species, must be allowed to be so far, at least, in a similar situation with the apostle Peter and his associates. And it will be acknowledged, I trust, that a belief in the siiifulness of war among Christian nations, for example, and in the efficacy of peace, as essential to the happiness of the world, are opinions, not only inoffensive in themselves, but extremely consonant to the spirit of Christianity. I go further; and make no scruple of declaring before men and angels, "without any hostility to those who disapprove my sentiments, or any fear of their displea- sure, that real Christianity, divested of these pacific dispositions and pacific practices, has no existence, and can have no existence, beyond an idle name and an unmeaning ceremonial, among men ; and that all miUtary operations.
"J Acts V. 38—39. W.
APPENDIX. (E.) 401
are as inconsistent with such a system of peace and love, as light with darkness, as Christ him- self with Belial. This propensity to war, and a restless incitement of other European states to it's horrid deeds by the ministers of this country, in conjunction with the unutterable enormities of our traffic in human flesh, is that great offence, that monstrous exhibition of gi- gantic wickedness, which must pour down the choicest phials of divine wrath on a land of most pre-eminent blood-guiltiness; which must render our utter obliteration, as a sovereign people, from the map of nations, a judgment of God, almost essential to the very preserva- tion and continuance of our species on earth.
The accomplishment of providential pur- poses co7nes not zvith observation. Our state may seem to some as secure and prosperous as they could wish: but of what avail are the magnificent battlements of a fabric, whose foundations rest upon the sand or are moulder- ing into dust? The Babylonians, Samaritans, and inhabitants of Jerusalem in former times, the Roman empire of Constantinople in a later period, the monarchies of France, Sardinia, and Naples of yesterday, said to themselves, as we say now, Peace and Safety;"^ but sudden and irretrievable destruction Avas at that very
•' 1 Thess. V. 3. VOL. IT. 2d
402 APPENDIX. (E.)
moment falling on their heads. Perhaps, even now the sentence o^ fiery indignation is written down against us by the recording Angel in the register of supernal vengeance, as a just retri- bution for our ferocious principles; and that column of our empire, than which a fairer and more stately would not have towered among the political structures of mankind, will be thrown down speedily with extensive and hor- rible convulsion, for a most awful memorial of abused blessings, and opportunities misem- ployed, to the future generations of mortality.
Vis consili expers mole ruit sua : Vim temperatam Di quoque provehunt Inmajus: idem odeie vires Omne nefas animo moventes.*
For myself^ I regard the friend of war and slaughter as an epitome of all mischief, as the true man of sin, visually exhibited in a human shape: and no considerations of worldly bene- fit, no supposed political advantages, should ever prevail on me to lift up with deliberation a murderous hand against a fellow-creature of any character or country; nor will I prefer a temporary prosperity in the perishable com- munities of the earth to a polity secure and
^ Hor. Od. iii. 4. 65. W.
t An article on this subject in my pamphlet was the chief accusation brought against me. W,
APPENDIX. (E.) 40i
permanent in the hea'venly Jerusalem^ in a city which hath foundations^ whose contriver and builder is God. But these sentiments are un- infected with the shghtest antipathy to the persons of those who differ from me, or the most latent wish of injury and revenge: unless it be injurious and revengeful to wish them deprived of their ability to aggravate their guilt by repeated mischiefs: unless it be in- jurious and revengeful to Avish them at the least distance possible from sincere contrition and divine forgiveness. I subscribe to the noble and philanthropic sentiment of the Ro- man orator: " Caussa orta est belli," says he in an epistle to a friend : quid ego prEetermisi aut monitorum aut querelarum; cum vel ini- quissimam pacem justissimo hello antefer- rem?" ^ And, as the situation, in which I am placed, has been allowed by the wisest writers to excuse some portion of self-commendation, however irksome at all times, and in general unseasonable it may be, I might appeal, in corroboration of these positions, to those who know me (and they are very numerous), Avh ether my social and familiar intercourse be not as tranquil and unassuming, as studiously attentive to the delicate sensibilities and inno-
s (pre, Epist. ad famil. vi. 6. W.
404 APPENDIX. (E.)
cent accommodation of all, with whom I con- verse, without malice, without asperity, with- out arrogance, as perhaps those of any person whatsoever of equal earnestness in his opinions, and decision in his character.
However, it is for yourselves to determine, whether ye will follow the moderate and hu- mane counsels of Gamaliel, and let me alone \ or imitate the fierceness of others in the San- hedrlm by punishing me in person and estate, whether ye will pursue that conduct which is approved, or that which is condemned, not by reason only, but by the revealed will of God; this, I say, is a point, in M'hich your characters for consistency and justice, as Chuistij^n ma- gistrates, are most deeply and momentously involved : for I challenge any man to demon- strate the inapplicability of the case, which I have stated, to the respective circumstances of yourselves and me at the present hour. To myself the alternative is comparatively most transitory and insignificant. My feelings are exactly those of the Pagan deity in Euripides, when he is threatened with bonds and impri- sonment by the Theban king: a scene thus finely represented from the Greek tragedian by a Roman poet*" in language doubtless more
^ Hor. Epist. I. 16. 74. Eur. Bacch. 497. W.
APPENDIX. (E.) 40,5
intelligible than his original to the majority of this audience:
Vir bonus, et sapiens audebit dicere, " Pentheu !
Rector Thebarum! quid me perferre patique
Indignum coges ?" Adimambona. " Nempe, pecus, rein,
Lectos, argentum. Tollas licet." In manicis et
Compedibus saevo te sub custode tenebo.
" Ipse DeuSj simul atque volam, me solvet."
Permit me now to request your indulgence, whilst I recall to 3'our memories some exam- ples of true wisdom and magnanimity in princes of ancient and modern times; which will at once illustrate and confirm a sentiment in the former part of my address, touching the secu- rity and unconcern of good governments at the censures of malicious, disingenuous, or mistaken writers. And these examples of li- herality and heroism, it may be observed, have commanded the applause and admiration, not only of every reader, but of the historians, who have recorded them.
Philip the Second of Spain releast from prison a man, whom the council of state had condemned to die for harsh animadversions ou the measures of his government; generously remarking at the same time, that " a king is never more secure from tlie malice of his
40 APPENDIX. (E.)
people, than when their discontents are suf- fered to evaporate in complaint." '
Even Caligula at the commencement of his reign, as we are informed by Suetonius,'' re- fused to receive informations relative to his own personal safety by secret communication ; declaring with a noble sublimity of mind, that " he had done nothing to deserve an enemy; and that he had no ears for an informer."
Timoleon,^ the deliverer of Syracuse from the tyranny of Dionysius, told his friends, who were urging him to punish a slanderer of his virtuous atchicvements, that " his primary motive to all his painful enterprises had been the security of free speech to the meanest citizen."
Nay, Tiberius himself (for the worst of these Roman emperors admitted an occasional dilution of their rancour and ferocity from the copious draughts of elegance and wisdom, which they had imbibed at the fountain of the Muses) even Tiberius would often say, when instigated to the punishment of libellers, that " the tongues and minds of men in a free country should be free."""'
' Wraxall's History of France, voi. i. p. q6. ^ Vit. Calig. sect. 15. ' Corn. Nep. xx. 5. 23.
'" Sueton. in Tiber, sect. 28. W,
APPENDIX. (E.) 407
But I forbear to trespass on your patience by a more full detail; and will only recite a few sentiments on this subject from the most virtuous and intelligent of mankind.
Socrates was accustomed to declare, that " the sun might as easily be spared from the universe, as free speech from the liberal in- stitutions of society.""
It was a saying of Demosthenes, that " no greater calamity could come upon a people, than the privation of free speech." °
Tacitus mentions with singular compla- cency, and even triumph, the pre-eminent felicity of his own times, the reign of Trajan, in the privilege of free sentimeiits and the free utterance of those sentiments.'' But these noble specimens of just and generous conceptions illuminate with wonderful richness and variety the pages of ancient literature, whether in their poets, philosophers, or historians.
I shall solicit your indulgence only to one quotation more, from the works of a man, whose name is sacred to Genius and to Virtue; I mean John Locke. This illustrious phi- losopher mentions a society, which required from every member at his admission an ex-
"Apud.Stob.eth.ecl.xiii. "Id. ibid, fHlst.i.I. W.
408 APPENDIX. (£.)
pllcit declaration of assent to these three pro- positions:*^
1st. That he lovett all men, of what profes- sion or religion soever.
Qnd. That he thought no person ought to be harmed in his body, name, or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of worship.
3rd. That he loved and sought truth for truth's sake ; and would endeavour impartially to find and receive it himself, and to commu- nicate it to others.
Surely now the examples and opinions of such heroes, whose heads and hearts conspire to recommend each other with most amicabfe reciprocation, their philosophy sanctified by their virtues, and their virtues illuminated by their philosophy; the lives and sentiments, I say, of men like these are calculated, I should think, to excite some mistrust in minds, not self-opinioned and obdurate, respecting the reasonableness and equity of their proceedings in such prosecutions, of which it is my fortune this dav to have become a victim. I, how- ever, can do no more tha« present these im- pressive documents to your dispassionate de-
9 Works, vol. iv. p. 643. last edition. W.
APPENDIX. (E.) 409
liberation: yet one observation at least I may- be permitted to subjoin witiiout offence. He, who approves persecution for writings and opi- nions, and gives his suffrage for the punish- ment of men so persecuted, whatever his sta- tion, his intellect, his abilities, or virtues be, that man most assuredly bears no resemblance in this respect to the noblest of his species, to Demosthenes and Tacitus, to Socrates and Locke.
I might argue also in vindication of my own conduct from the practice of sat'msts in all a2:es and under everv form of o-overnment, despotical and free : for such examples are per- tinent to me, who am no political machinist ; nor was ever occupied in the tumultuary con- flicts or the fraudulent intrigues of rival par- tisans. Charges of general corruption are made against all orders of society, from the highest in rank and station to the meanest in- dividuals, by the Roman satirists in their days, and by Bishops Latimer and Hall, by Young and Pope especially in our's, to omit innu- merable others, in language of the most un- reserved asperity.
The truth is, and a melancholy truth it may well be deemed, there has never yet been found that perfection of patriotism in public
410 APPENDIX. (E)
men, which rendered occasional reprobation of their misconduct unseasonable from cen- surers uncorrupt in manners and of peaceful occupations ; particularly those devoted to the studies of morality and the meditations of re- ligion; whose lives give sanction and dignity to their reproofs. Indeed such writers may be denominated with propriety the salt of THE earth; that pure and salubrious ingre- dient, which preserves the entire mass of so- ciety from an irrecoverable putrefaction of immorality and licentiousness. These, through many ages of the world, have been liglits shin- ing in a dark place, to illuminate the paths of the chosen few, when the shroud of ignorance and vice had enveloped the horizon round them; when, through the moral and intellec- tual creation, the stars had been quenched in their spheres, and the sun dethroned from his pavilion in the sky:
Cum caput obscura nitidum ferrugine texit, Impiaque aeternam timuerunt secula noctem.
And, though it be a motive of inferior con- sideration, it may not misbecome you to re- flect, how far the reputation of this country, as pretending to enjoy a liberal and happy government, will be consulted among the po- lished nations throughout Europe by the servile
APPENDIX. (E.) 4U
punishment of one, whose writings have fur^ nished a subject for the inaugural orations of Professors in foreign Universities; of one, who has been honoured by the unsohcited corre- spondence of the first scholars on the con- tinent, whose names are consecrated to im- mortality. One opinion at least, I am well persuaded, must be formed by men of letters both in the present and the future generations of the world; an opinion, to which I join my suffrage with complete conviction and cor- diality: that they, who can prevail upon them- selves so to prosecute and so to punish such writings as my pamphlet, and such characters as it's author, bring a charge of ferocity against their neighbours with no sensations of shame and decency. This prosecution differs in de- gree only, not in land, in form and semblance, not in principle and spirit, from the most san- guinary excesses of the blackest tyranny. We know how great a quantity of matter a little spark can kindle. The same power of nature, which precipitates a pebble to the ground, consolidates the globe itself, and retains the planets in their orbits.
I had at one time persuaded myself, that a respect for Literature would have restrained my prosecutor from this rude violation of her character in the person of one, who has culti-
412 APPENDIX. (E.)
vated her provinces with some success; hut untowardly associations, rather than his own native urbanity of temper, have led him to break through the fragile texture of this deli- cate impediment: for the promotion of solid learning, or indeed of any laudable and peace- ful arts, enters less into the views of our pre- sent ministers, than into those of any civilised governments, which have yet existed amongst mankind.
Carmina tantum
Nostra valent, Lycida! tela inter Martia, quantum Chaonias dicunt, aquila veniente, columbas.
They, however, on whom the poM'er of deci- sion is at length devolved, are actuated, per- haps, by more noble and liberal sensations.
Nor will it appear incongruous to this oc- casion, if I presume briefly to suggest, that, as my life is a life of unremitted study, an im- prisonment will suspend the execution of those works, which have no tendency indeed to em- body armies, to desolate mighty empires, and evacuate the thrones of monarchs ; but lead to triumphs, much more signal and meritorious, over gross and brutal passions, by humanising the mind to every complacent and gentle feel- ing; by communicating those intellectual plea- sures, those unutterable transports of mental
APPENDIX. (E.) 413
vision, to a heart of sensibility, which raise the possessor above the ordinary condition of mortahty.
Another topic also, of trivial significance to the opulent, but of primary concernment to one similarly situated with myself, ought not to pass unnoticed on this occasion. ]\Iy children depend on me for their education. I am in possession of no resources for furnish- ino* them with suitable instruction in anv other manner at all conformable to my wishes and their reasonable claims ; especially at this period, of all others the most calamitously in- auspicious to those, who principally subsist on the slender and uncertain produce of literary labour; when the still small accents of the muses are stifled by the din of arms, and a storm of tremendous desolation has covered those fields, from which our industry was ac- customed to reap a scanty, but sufficient, har- vest for unaspiring and continent philosophy, with deluges of human blood.
And, at the instigation of my family and friends, I shall not hesitate to mention another particular for your consideration; but, to pre- vent any misconception in your minds, as if I were inclined to win by supplication, rather than claim by justice and extort by reason, I must beg leave to preface that communication
414 APPENDIX. (E.)
l)y some remarks, not very acceptable, per> haps for all to hear, but absolutely necessary for me to utter.
I mean not, in any thing that I have now said, or may hereafter say, to insinuate the least possible contrition or change of senti- ment on the subject of these proceedings. By no means. I understand, I hope, too well that dignified sentiment of a great philosopher, " a revere?ice oi my own character;'" I under- stand too well the only proper inference from such persecutions of unambitious and pacific men by the children of this generation, the idolaters of secularity and power and prefer- ment; I understand too well the veneration due to all that is lovely in morals and sacred in religion, to contemplate interminable war, and famine, and extirpation, with any other feelings than those of irreconcilable hostility to the measures themselves, and of alarm for the promoters of these measures, whenever my mind anticipates their presentment before his tribunal, who came not to destroy men's lives, but to save them. Upon these subjects I have con- structed my opinions with too much delibera- tion, and on principles too solid to be shakei>
Tiavtuov $s [j.ocXKrt aia-^wso (rccvtov. Aur. Garm. v, 12.
At>PENDIX. (E.) . 415
by this blast of persecution; M'hicli is rather calculated to fix their roots, encourage their oTOwth, and invigorate their stability: nor is any other depraved and inhuman process at all likely to disabuse me of my persuasion, if such it be, whilst the Christian religion con- tinues to be 'the directory of my conduct, and PEACE with GOOD WILL Universal and un- bounded, not blood-guiltiness and war, the characteristic attributes of that religion.
After this provision for a just appreciation of my motives and a precise apprehension of my sensations, I proceed to notify, that, through a pertinacious constitutional tendency to zvatch- f Illness even from my infanc}^; an infelicity, which has made serious inroads on the enjoy- ments of life and the advancement of my studies; I sometimes, without a deprivation of all comfort, cannot stay from home more than a single night: and the invariable consequence of this watchfulness is a tormenting pain in one shoulder, which, at several periods, has continued for months and years, so as to ren- der existence all but insupportable and extin- guished, for want of sleep. In defiance of all medical abilities:'
cessere magistri
Phillyrides Chiron Amylhaoniiisque Melampus.* « See ''Mem." i. 277 and 549,
416 APPENDIX. (E.)
A detail of this peculiarity in conformity to the strictest truth would appear too singular for credibility, except to those, who have been witnesses of it's reality, or Avho know me suf- ficiently to confide in the veracity of my nar- ration: and therefore I forbear to enlars-e on this grievance ; which may/ or may not, eventually recur with serious severity, and has my full permission to influence your deter- minations just as much and just as little as it pleases. The cause of liberty, of benevolence, of humanity, and the gospel, in which I feel myself engaged, is able to support me under a much heavier pressure of affliction than Avhat any resentment of my persecutors may wish you to impose upon me. When I embarked on the ocean of public life, I could not but forebode some future tempests, and I am pre- pared to endure their fury. The vessel may be wrecked, but my purpose no catastrophe shall frustrate ; and the voyager will reach his haven.
Besides, confinement in a prison, and ab- sence from home, is not the same evil to mc in many respects, as to a bookseller, for ex- ample; who can employ himself at a distance in regulating his concerns and setthng his
* See ''Mem." ii. 26i.
APPENDIX. (E.) 417
accounts, Avhilst the current business of the shop and warehouse is conducted with little detriment to the principal by diligent and faithful substitutes : whereas my connexion with society, and the multifarious occupations of a literary life, must be essentially incom- moded by the privation of a personal inter- course, without discontinuance and obstruction, both with men and books. If the implorers and dispensers of such punishments on others would pause a moment to represent, with a little more vivacity and conscientiousness, to their own minds the consequent inconveniences of such treatment to themsehes ; if they could be persuaded to consider any comforts but theij^ oivn; they would be less forward, I pre- sume, to a heedless and indiscriminate appli- cation of these severities to their neighbours; nor would they treasure up such materials for self-reproach at those awful moments when re- paration will become impossible ; when apathy or obduracy will give way to a fearfid expec- tation, in their turn, of that recompense which their inhumanity has secured for themselves from the impartial dispenser of retributory justice.
However, when every day and every year is employed, like those which have preceded them, in studies, that entrance the fancv, that
VOL. 11. 2 E
418 APPENDIX. (£.)
enlarge the understanding, that refine the feel- ings, that amend the heart; in those heavenly contemplations, which transport the soul be- yond the sphere of sublunary vicissitudes to the regions of blessedness permanent and un : changeable; such events as this, the forma- lities of these courts, the maxims by which they are directed, that authority and power, which gives them reverence, dwindle into di- minutive and obscure frivolities, scarcely dis- cernible amidst objects of such mighty magni- tude and transcendent lustre. Can the child of true wisdom disquiet his mind with the soli- citude of a single moment about his passage over that short isthmus which separates Time and Corruption from Duration and Immorta- lity; which divides the scanty tribes now rov- ing on the surface of the earth from the count- less myriads of former generations entombed in her bosom;
where e'en the Great find rest.
And blended lie the oppressor and the oppress'd ?
In these days especially we reap an addi- tional consolation for all our sufferings, from a contemplation of those wonderful revolu- tions, which have been accomplished in our youth, and seem still accomplishing, through nations in every quarter of the globe. We are
APPENDIX. (E.) 419
not so mistrustful either of his abilities or be- nevolence, as to suppose the great Ruler in human governments not occupied in educing tranquillity more durable and happiness more substantial from these calamitous transactions of turbulence and bloodshed. Nay, we are unequivocally certain, from the character of the Agent, that such an emendation of our condition must be accomplished under better auspices, as will not only compensate all the sorrows of individual men, who have under- valued their own personal accommodation in comparison with the public good, but will leave nothing to regret in the demolition of antiquated systems, beyond the tardiness, and, possibly, the violence, of their catastrophe; because, in the estimation of a genuine bene- volent reformer, no blessing can be specified, which would not be dearly purchased at the expence of peace. And certainly, when every man, instructed by historic records and en- lightened by the musings of philosophy, must acknowledge a superior frequency of penal se- verities, prosecutions, and proscriptions, to be invariably symptomatic of instability in go- vernments; the exercise of such severities should awaken the minds of all concerned in their promotion to reflections of peculiar ap- prehension and distrust. Such harshness is at 2
420 APPENDIX. (E.)
least teaching an evil lesson against itself: nor can we possibly lay up a better 'viaticum for future life, w^hether we respect outward secu- rity or inward peace, than in that gentleness and benignity, A\diich never fail to command the praises and conciliate the favour of man- kind. It is a sterling maxim of old Hesiod, digged from the mine of experimental wisdom, that " the man, who devises mischief for an- other, devises it eventually for himself; and that evil counsel is ever the most pernicious to it's author." To all, whose stations have invested them with an authority, which can essentially influence the comforts and condi- tions of their fellow-subjects, such reflections are unspeakably momentous, and can never be too frequently renewed, in season and out of season, in their hearts.
I may be told, perhaps, of the laws of my country, the wisdom of Parliaments, and the constitutions of our ancestors. These are things, to which it will be my happiness, as well as interest, to pay all the respect and obedience in my power: but there are other laws, other wisdom, and other constitutions, of much higher dignity, of more deep con- cernment, and of uncontroulable authority; I mean, the laws, the wisdom, and constitutions of the Gospel: nor, I apprehend, is it fiivo-
APPENDIX. (E.) 421
lous or presumptuous to suppose, that divine injunctions and municipal arrangements, the imbecihty of man and the infaUibility of God, may he at variance, and even inconsistency, Avith each other. In such a case, I shall choose to say, in the words of Peter and John to the Jewish council; " Whether it be right in the sight of God, to hearken unto^ow more than unto God, judge ye."
One proposition is unquestionably true, and rests on the immovable basis of reason and ex- periment: violent and cruel measures, intimi- dation and persecution, cannot possibly con- spire with the real happiness and improve- ment of man, in any form whatever; nor will they eventually complete the purposes, or pro- mote the prosperity, of their employers, under a divine administration of the universe. The fire of tyranny may purify, but will never con- sume, the unalloyed gold of resolute and dis- interested virtue. One race may be extin- guished, but another of congenial principles will be raised from their ashes, to confront their adversaries:
genus immortale manct; multosque per annos
Stat fortuna domus, et avi numerantur avorum.
Truth and benevolence are the essential com- ponents of genuine felicity: but the antipathy
All APPENDIX. (E.)
between Truth and Force, between Persecu- tion and Benevolence, is fundamental, irre- concilable, and eternal.
Impregnated by these persuasions, prompted by these motives, and cheared by these pros- pects, I acknowledge no offence; I have com- mitted none. I deprecate no punishment; I have deserved none. An absolution from all suffering and censure would excite in my breast not so much a selfish joy for a mere es- cape from danger, as a generous gratulation on the exhibition in you of that sensibility and benevolence, which exalts the human nature to a resemblance with the divine. Not that I am so estranged from the satisfactions of per- sonal security, from the luxuries of literary leisure, and the comforts of domestic peace, as to view with indifference or complacency, much less to solicit, penalties and imprison- ment: nor again, so uninfluenced by true dig-^ nity of character and the exhortations of un- impeachable integrity, as to enter into any commutation with a timid and temporising self- ishness; as to surrender for mere animal exist- ence all that renders life itself either valuable or supportable. I am equally provided for each alternative; for case and freedom, M'ith contentment and equanimity; for restraint and punishment, with fortitude and exultation. I
APPENDIX. (E.) 423
have lived too long, and have endured too many conflicts ; my consciousness of desert is too well corroborated by the consenting re- gards of estimable men; to enable such perse- cutions, on such principles, even to pollute the current, much less to extinguish the source, of my consolations.
In the mean time, I look forwards with en- raptured anticipation to a removal of these un- enlightened operations, these vexatious en- croachments, of a mistaken policy, by those gentle triumphs of religion and philosophy, which will hereafter bind the whole creation in one indissoluble tie of benevolence and peace: when all attempts to eradicate opinions and produce conviction by oppressive force will be regarded as the very excess, not of in- justice only, but of puerile delusion; as an ex- travagance no less disgraceful to humanity, than contradictory to common sense: and I now appeal, with entire confidence in the pu- rity of my intentions and the intrinsic meri- toriousness of my conduct, from rash and in- apprehensive ignorance to the sober votaries of philosophy and letters; from the perturbed spirits of my delirious contemporaries to the unalarmed judgments of future generations; from the reversible formularies of transient judicatures to the unswerving tribunal of
424 APPENDIX. (E.)
changeless Truth; from the perishable dispen- sations of worldly polities to the constitutions of the evei'lasting Gospel; from the condemn- ing sentence of frail and mistaken men, to the irrevocable decision of an absolving and ap- plauding God.
APPENDIX. (F.)
THE
FIRST SATIRE OF JUVENAL
IMITATED.
1800.
u> ^
Still, still shall struggling Spleen repress her hand.
This spawn of scribblers croaking through the land?
See Chalmers urge with persevering page
To doubt and dulness a discerning age?
See Reeves enjoy his pension and applause.
Who Freedom libell'd, and provok'd her laws?
With unindignant apathy pass by
Of Aritijacobins the filthy stye?
Wars, murders, their delight; not **'s more;
True priests of Moloch ! gorg'd with human gore.
Their social Order, States in ruin hurl'd ;
Their Law, Confusion stalking through the world:
Their Faith, to bid Good-will and Mercy cease.
And whoop War's hell-hounds at the Prince of
Peace; Raptur'd to view the ensanguin'd trophies nod In frowns of horror o'er the shrine of God !
How plotting Priestley's grains of powder lie To blow our Church in atoms to the sk}';'
a During the debate in the House of Commons in 1787, on the Repeal of the Test Act, one of the present writers heard Sir William Dolben, Mem- ber of Parliament for the University of Oxford, quote the following passage, to which Mr. Wakefield alludes, from Dr. Priestley. " i^— jhe silent pro-
246 APPENDIX. (F.)
How crafty Tooke and bawling Thelwall plann'd
To make one mighty Chaos of the land.
To whelm wealth, titles, in Rebel Ron's flood.
And drench the scaffold with their Sovereign's blood ;
How Paine builds equal rights on equal birth
With equal commonage o'er parent Earth ;
Not, through the paths of bliss our steps to lead.
The naked clothe, sick cherish, hungry feed;
But, ]Ve;o-like, one vast combustion raise
(it
Of Law, Rank, Order; and enjoy the blaze: —
Those countless crimes, which Windham's tongue can
tell. Of quitted felons, genuine imps of hell : — On such stale themes, to me far better known. Than house, and wife, and all I name my own,
pagation of the truth will in the end prove efficacious. We are placing, as it were, grain by grain, a train of gunpowder, to which the match will one day be laid to blow up the fabric of error, which can never be again raised upon the same foundation."
The worthy Baronet now displayed his sagacity in detecting the design of the Philosopher, and, as in duty bound, alarmed the House by laying no common emphasis on every grain of the metaphorical combustible. Mr. Courtenay, whose pleasantry has so often relieved the tsedium of parlia- mentary business, undertook to calm the apprehensions of the Representa- tive of the University of Oxford, and reminded him that the deep design, whatever it might be, was only against '< the fabric of error," and there- fore Sir William must be satisfied that the Church of England could be in no danger.
This subject is treated with all suitable gravity by the late Dr. Geddes, in his " Epistola Macoronica," occasioned by a meeting of the Dissenters, in 1/90, to procure the repeal of the Test Act.
Non aderas, Priestley! potior te cura tencbat Rure, ubi magna inter centum miracula rerum, Horslaei caput in rutilantia fulmina forgis} . ^ulphuris ei satagis subtilia grana parare.
Church quibus et churchmen, in calum upblowerc possis.
APPENDIX. (F.) 427
Each yelping cur of lurcher placemen barks. From Pitt and Grenville to their office-clerks.
I too was form'd by paidagogic rules. Have travers'd all the classic lore of schools; I too have commerc'd, many a silent hour. With bard and sage in Academic bovver; Youth, Pleasure, slighted for the Muse's song; 1 lov'd her early, and have lov'd her long: Nor fear'd to brand with bold, indignant pen. The friends of War as Murderers of men. — 'Tis folly, nay, 'tis madness, to forbear ! Shall I that perishable paper spare. From which e'en G. ... e his gross rebukes may shower. Safe in the ermine of judicial pow'r? Some Lord of Lincoln make his readers nod. When he would '*" vindicate the ways of God/' Reserving, grateful, his best nerve and wit. To vindicate the Piety of Pitt?'' From which, good Wilherforce can prove, at least. That Pitt, on solemn y'os^s, abhors b. feast; Too blest! liice Lincoln, could he dare to paint His Sabbath-Duellist, a Vital-Saint? *=
•> " You must permit me, sir, to say, that I consider the Dedication of a Work designed to promote the knowledge of the Sacred Scriptures as peculi'trly appropriate to you, who have evinced yourself the zealous Friend of Religion. But above all, I may state with inexpressible satisfaction, that under the influence of Relioious Principle, your conduct has afforded an eminent example of private as well as of public virtue." I 1
See Dedication of the " Elements of Christian Theology." "To the Right Honourable William Pitt, First Lord Commissioner of his Ma- jesty's Treasury, kc. &c. &c." ITO^.
« Mr. Wilberforce, having lamented the notorious contempt of national
428 APPENDIX. (F.)
But, why the Muse her Pegasus should guide Round those bold steeps of Pindus' rugged side. Where, o'er the titled pimp and pension'd slave. Pope his sith'd car with wheels of thunder drave. Hear her strong reasons; but endure to hear With calm aflfections and a vacant ear.
When triumphs Sin, by impious laws sustain'd. When ro3^al sanctions curse what God ordain'd, A Senate trampling on his first command. And hallowing whoredom in a Christian land ; To blank despair a princely offspring driven,. Barr'd the best blessings of indulgent Heaven, The endearing ties of husband, child, and wife. All that supports, and " cheers, and softens life :"—
Fasts, especially among the higher ranksj " thinks it necessary to declare, that the account, which appeared in some of the news-papers, of an enter- tainment having been given by Mr. Pitt on the Fast Day, is untrue ; and he is glad of the opportunity, which the mention of this subject affords him, of contradicting a statement which he can positively affirm to have been false." *' Practical Views," &c. 2'^ ed. p. 3/8. Having never seen the later editions of this work, Vv'e are unable to say, whether the worthy Author has been equally successful in proving that the celebrated Duel by his Friend was not fought on a Sunday. The common notion of the day of the week, on which this event happened, must surely be erroneous, as a Right Rev. Prelate, very soon after the transaction, hesitates not to de- clare to his patron, j\lr. Pitt, his " inexpressible satisfaction" in the con- templation of the character of that gentleman — *' the zealous Friend of Religion, and the firm supporter of our Ecclesiastical Establishment;" regulating his conduct " under the influence of religious principle." [See the preceding Note.] Are not these strong presumptions, that the Duel was not fought on a Sunday? and, unless Mr. Wilberforce has already considered the subject, might he not make an interesting enlargement of his note, in his next edition, by an examination of this question, import- ant at all times, and especially now, his Friend has resumed his high station .•"
APPENDIX. (F.) 429
When jobs, loans, contracts, lott'ries, round us spew More noisome plagues than Egypt ever knew ; When, throned on law and statute, public Crime Sends exhalations from Corruption's slime, That, flamed to blazing meteors, as they rise. Eclipse our nobles in their natives skies; And grubs, in oftals vile of office bred. Turn flies, and flutter round the royal head : While Wealth, from bleeding India's vitals torn. To Britain's ruthless shores in triumph borne. Sells to a crafty Premier's harlot smile The barter'd suffrages of half our isle: — 'Midst crimes like these, who dares his rage controul. If but one ray of Virtue strike his soul ? I write; my rebel Muse in vain contends: The involuntary verse in Satire ends.
Could Stoic apathy sit still, and see Such harden'd waste of wanton Luxury ? Where one great gala spends to Rutlajid's heir Bread for his starving neighbours many a year; When the vast vortex of a sensual town Whirls, in one winter, patrimonies down. And mortgag'd parks and manors scarce aflbrd A ball and supper to their spendthrift Lord, While pining paupers wallow, happy dogs! In eleomosunary soup with hogs: When swoll'n Corruption her atrocious gains, 'Mid shrieks of Woe, that fright our famish'd plains. With front of brass, with heart of stone, defends. And but cheese-parings calls, or candles-ends.
" Each Briton," lordly D m^ gravely tells,
" Under his vine and fig, in plenty, dwells."
* Iij a speech at a late cour.ty-raeeting these were his vrords. W.
430 APPENDIX. (F.)
The gaping throng, with pangs of hunger shent. Loud plaudits raise; — but wonder what he meant!
This prelate Prince, whose humble Saviour led. With pilgrim foot and unreposing head. His frugal flock, where streams of comfort flow. Where meads of amaranthine verdure blow; — Who less commended Martha's sumptuous treat. Than pensive Mary listening at his feet; — Sees Luxury's tide o'er his bright table pour, And high-roof 'd domes his mitred crest embower. Yet a poor paltry pittance all his gains! For cares, vexations, penalties, and pains, l^liich, fresh and fresh, by day, by night, appear. And leave no vacuum in the circling year: A blessing given ! a progress through the land. When shoals'^ of b. . . .ds soil his holy hand ! A Visitation, in five years at least! A Minster-Sermon, and a Clergij-feast ! At solemn seasons on a sable host To pour, benevolent, the Holy Ghost! Shake o'er Non-Residents his angry rod. And, on high Sabbath, givc^ " The Peace of God!'*
What keen sensations all my soul inflame. What rage convulsive tears my struggling frame. While pompous Hcnnell most devoutly cries. Crosier and mitre dancing in his eyes. With hands uplifted and ecstatic stare, — *' No Salem's good Josiahs must compare
« In that most sacred and edifying Ordinance of Confirmation. W.
f The prayer, which is stiled the Blessing in the Church of England, be-, gins with these words: " The peace of God, which passeth all understand- ing, &c." and is ordered by the Rubric to be delivered by the Bishop, if •present. W.
APPENDIX. (F.) 431
With liim^ whose sceptre sways this realm of Grace : An Og, or Anak, to their pigmy race !" s While Landaff, plac'd from Landaff's duties far. Near the keen glances of the Northern star. Of Church and Schools amalgamates the fees. And, thanks to hireling drudges ! lives at ease : Save when Translations tease his anxious breast. Or Virtue's untomb'd spectre breaks his rest.
Our Noble youth what gen'rous cares employ ! No sensual revellings ! no ignoble joy ! Virtue and Reason the presiding Power: Or Science niles the philosophic hour!
When routs, and lengthen'd orgies of the night Till spurious beams insult the sire of light,
g The Doctor, in his Sermon before the House of Commons, Nov. 29, 1798, p. 18, speaking of his Majesty, George the Third, calls him " a So- vereign, who reigns beyond example, I believe, in the hearts of his people;— to whom the language of the sacred Scriptures may withodt
EXAGGERATION bc applied: LIKE DNTO HIM THERE WAS NO KING BEFORE
HIM, that (in an age of decay and apostasy) turned to the Lord vxith all his soul and with all his might, according to the law of his God." \ \ !
The learned reader will, perhaps, not be displeased with the following dilatation and illustration of this philosophical, sober, and disinterested sentiment :
Gloria concedat Salomonis, gloria Cyri ;
Concedant veterum nomina magna virum. Tu quoque concedas, rex optime! dixeris unara
Qui vacuam officiis disperiisse diem. Nee tuus, Aureli ! totiens celebratus, ob ora
Jam bene dedoctis gentibus ibit honos. Pisegravat Alfredi nomen novus editus orbi
Fulgor, ut exoriens obruit astra dies. Heroum virtus, sapientia, fama, priorum
Gurgite Lethese contumulantur aquae : Cunctas cunctorum laudes una undique regum
Complexa est proprio terra Britanna siiiu ! W.
432 APPENDIX. (F.)
Permit their votary to unseal his eyes^
Or ere the Sun has gain'd meridian skies.
This band illustrious with obsequious feet
Throng round great George in Windsor's gay retreat.
Mean liveried sycophants! to prompt grimace
Of gesture drill'd, and tactics of the face.
All gaze, all wonder: all imbibe with glee
The glib shrewd speech, and pregnant repartee.
Soon, 'midst of dogs and men a horrid din.
The grand achievements of the chace begin.
What feats sublime, to stem the rushing flood.
Climb hills, sweep vales, clear mounds, and pierce the
wood ! What bliss supreme to watch the direful strife Of Death and Nature for the prize of life. Their harmless prey when throbs convulsive tear; The bound of Hope, the struggle of Despair! Then, as their bleeding victim pants and dies, What shouts of manly rapture rend the skies.
The meed of Mummery, and Craft, and Crimes, How rank, alas! in our degenerate times: Church and State jugglers draw their circle round. While Sense and Virtue fly the tainted ground.
Wouldst thou, as // s, or as E d, speed?
Lash thy tame soul to some atrocious deed, A post, or pension, lure thee? Hatch a plot. Good pay, and peerage? Prosecute, like 8..t. Cant Social Order, and Religion sham: Thy life is jovial, though thy soul thou damn. Vice reigns supreme, with undivided sway: To Vice the bar, the pulpit, homage pay. Not the cold meed of praise must Virtue hope. But joy to scape a dungeon or a rope.
APPENDIX. (F.) 433
When Crimes thus brazen in the face of day. If Genius stagnate, Rage pours out the lay; Such as Mathias and myself compose. With lingering Parturition's painful throes: Corruption's sink, that deluges our age,« Runs ductile to the pen, and spreads my page.
In vain may Sleep his store of opiate dews From horn inverted o'er my .lids effuse: No tranquil slumbers soothe my midnight hour; Such scoundrels start to honours, wealth, and power f Should my tired sense imbibe the oblivious stream. Some VILE APOSTATE haunts my startling dream.
P..t! at the name what myriad phantoms rise Of Crimes and Treasons to my wilder'd eyes! Foul Crimes! dark Treasons! that throw down the fence Of patriot Union, public confidence. Virtue's chaste darling leagues with every knave: Britain's Reformer fixes her a slave! At his own creed the abjuring preacher rails. And bids his proselt/tes despair in jails!** Sad Afric's sons the Crocodile bemoans. With sighs that mock her agonies and groans: Unpitying views the tear cf Anguish start. Despair's keen pang, and Sorrov/'s broken heart!
Spurn'd in the noon-tide of despotic sway The pow'r, that hail'd and cheer'd thy morning ray; Thy gaudy glories, a solstitial flower! Sprang, bloom'd, and languish'd, in a summer's hour.
^ Holt, the publisher of the Newark Journal, was imprisoned in New- gate for reprinting, without alteration, a pamphlet by Major Cartwright, to which the Minister, as a member of a political society, had given counte- nance and circulation. The consequence to this young man was the ruia of his affairs, and death in a short time after. W .
VOL. II. 2 F
434 APPENDIX. (F.)
What Mason's erring Muse commends to Fame, Lives but the shadowy semblance of a name. Jebb/ o'er thy coffin'd virtues, once his boast. Too late repentant, dying, mourn'd them lost.
E'en those, whom purer principles should sway Yield to the crimes, or follies, of the day. SwoU'n with a deluge of autumnal rain. Thus the wild Torrent wastes the fertile plain: Nor shrubs alone his raging waters sweep; Oak, harvest, flock, go plunging to the deep. Hear, in one breath, vain ** curse and swear. Talk bawd}'. Scripture quote, and say a praj^er! This hour plucks Hardy from the fangs of Scott: The next, a dungeon, Williams! is thy lot.
Soon in this isle of swindlers shall we see Rich temples rise to their great Deity. Our priests e'en now gird on Bellona's coat. And blood-stain'd ensigns round our altars float. , Thy Spirit, Rome! sits brooding o'er the land. And Christ with Mahomet walks hand in hand. Our saints incline the knee to Mars alone. Or Mammon thrusts Jehovah from his throne.
Christians, whose bland sensations should embrace With arms expanded the whole human race; Whose laws the bound of sect and tribe remove With soft encroachments of fraternal love; — Let Havoc loose, and bid Wear's thunders roar On Europe's plains, on India's distant shore;
' Dr. John Jehb before his death was perfectly convinced of this man's insincerity ; and used to cry out, prophetically, with the keenest regret for
one, whom he had so patronised and applauded, " This young r 1 will
ruin every thing '." VV.
APPENDIX. (F.) 43S
Where hapless Afric English thieves assails With scorching sands and pestilential gales, They plunge the sword and link the rankling chain. While Ocean rolls his barrier tides in vain.
The thriving villainies of future time Will strive in vain to reach our size of crime. With giant strides we gain the mountain's brow. And leave our father's dwarfish sins below. His noblest track, if bolder Vice should fire Some darling youth, the footsteps of his sire. Then launch forth, Satire ! spread thine ample sail. And give the driving vessel to the gale.
Yet I, to whom the Nine no boon impart. Who feel cold currents stagnate round my heart. Must hope, unaided by poetic dream. No answerable stile for such a theme: And Freedom's sun, which cheer'd our isle before. Is quench'd in darkness, to illume no more!
F. Write, but, to scape the ruthless grasp of law. The bullying judge, the ruflnan jailor's paw. Be Bethel's seer"^ thy model, if thou write: Call Scott humane! call Keni/oti the polite! Praise Pitt; and round the couplet, if you can. With friend of Freedom! and delight of man! View at each elbow an insidious spy; And — make no faces, while the king goes by! '
j4. Yet, though, should living culprits keenly smart, A jail reward the whirl of Satire's dart; And Scott exult, whilst prison'd Wakefield grie\'€s For preaching Jesus in a den of thieves:^
^ See 1 Kings, xiii. 18. W. • See " the Case of Kydd Wake," who was confined for five years in a solitary cell, in Gloucester Gaol. See Ann. Reg. ■" Matt. xxi. 13»
2
436 APPENDIX. (F.)
What bolts of law can thunder at this head.
Ye Muses! if my quarry be the dead'?
Come then; and place, where W**m might have stood.
Some grisly Cyclops, smear'd with human blood.
Must some proud prelate feel the tingling lash?
Write Laud at length, but H y with a dash.
Name Saul and Flaccus boldly: but, beware! No hint at B**f*d, no thought of Cl*e. For K**n, Jeffries let your weapon hit; And Rome's Sejanus strike, for British P*t.
APPENDIX. (G.)
Some Remarks on the literary Character of Mr. Wakefield, in a Letter from the Rev. Dr. Parr.
DEAR SIR,
Whatsoever traces of irritability, and some- times even pertinacity, may occur in the pub- lications of our excellent friend, Mr. Wake- field, I know, from my private correspondence with him, that, when treated Avith the respect due to his talents and attainments, he was patient under opposition, was grateful for in- formation, and would honestly abandon some of those opinions and conjectures, which, pre- viously to our discussions, he had believed to be well founded.
'' Conjectural criticism," says Johnson, in his preface to Shakspeare, " has been of great use in the learned world; nor is it my inten- tion to depreciate a study, that has exercised so many mighty minds from the revival of learning to our own age, from [John Andreas] the bishop of Aleria to English Bentley;" and I shall myself add, as Johnson would have added, to Richard Porson. — " It is not easv,"
438 APPENDIX. (G.)
says the same writer, " to discover from what cause the acrimony of a schohast can naturally
proceed." " The various readings of copies,
and different interpretations of a passage, seem to be questions that might exercise the wit, without engaging the passions. But, M'hether it be, that '■^ small things make mean men proud,''^ and vanity catches small occasions; or that all contrariety of opinion, even in those that can defend it no longer, makes proud men angry; there is often found in commentaries a spon- taneous strain of invective and contempt, more eager and venomous than is vented by the most furious controvertist in politics against those whom he is hired to defame."
Though the temper, or at least the lan- guage, of verbal critics, has been, in our own days, much improved by the examples of Markland, Wesseling, Ilemsterhusius, Valke- naer, Ruhnken, Heyne, and other illustrious scholars, too many traces may yet be found of that spirit M'hich is so extremely offensive to every well-regulated mind.
The Vannus Critica of D'Orville abounds with recondite criticism; and the severity of the writer has been sometimes excused, on the plea of retaliation, against Pauw, whose coarse- ness and petulance are quite intolerable. But I must confess that the perpetual recurrence
APPENDIX. (G.) 439
of illiberal and savage reproach in that cele- brated work is wearisome to me, and I re- member with pleasure that, in his notes upon Charito, D'Orville has not fallen into this odi- ous way of writing.
No man admires more sincerely than I do the genius and learning of Herman. But I can never read without indignation the arro- gant and contemptuous terms in which he speaks of the late Mr. Heath — a man, whose good sense, good manners, and most merito- rious labours ought to have protected him from such indignities. Vid. Herman. Obser. Crit. pag. 59, and his note on verse 1002 of the Hecuba, pag. 153.
The manner in which Mr. Brunck speaks of Vauvilliers is by no means warranted by Brunck's great and indisputable superiority; and I suppose that other readers, as well as myself, have observed numerous instances, in Avhich Brunck has slyly stolen the emendations of his insulted predecessor, and meanly endea- voured to disguise his plagiarism.
Perhaps the great erudition, the wonderful sagacity, and the useful discoveries of such men as Joseph Scaliger, Bentley, and Sal- masius, may now and then induce us to forgive the insolence of their temper, and the asperity of their invectives. But, when better exam-
UO APPENDIX. (G.)
pies have been set before us by the most dis- tinguished critics of our own times, little or no apology remains for men whose abilities are not of the highest class, if they select their models from periods, when the happy effects of civilisation were less diffused, and when the value of it, on controversial subjects, was less understood.
In the ardor and impetuosity of youth, our friend had met with those terms of reproach, which critics employ against each other. He might have been pleased at the moment with the appearance of vivacity and acuteness in some favourite writer: he found it easy to use the expressions M'hich custom seems to have established among his predecessors ; and per- haps the natural soreness of his mind, under provocations which he thought unmerited, in- creased his disposition to adopt them. This failing, however, we should deplore, rather than justify; and we should, also, remember that he shared it in common with other writers, who were inferior to him in diligence, in know- ledge, in rectitude of intention, and in holi- ness of life.
The warmest of j\Ir. Wakefield's admirers must acknowledge that, in taste, erudition, and in<i:enuitv, the celebrated Ruhnken was
APPENDIX. (G.) 441
superior to him. But tliey will recollect with satisfaction that one praise which Wyttenbach has bestowed upon Ruhnken, may be justly claimed by Wakefield. " Nee ipse unquam ahter loquebatur, quam sentiebat, nee eos qui secus facerent, ferre poterat.'' — See the Life of Ruhnken, page 245.
Many of the errors, which occur in his emendations, and many of the imperfections which have been imputed to his Latin style, may, I think, be traced to the following causes.
The first, and perhaps the most powerful, which presents itself to my memory, is, that he had not received his education in one of our great public schools, v/here his taste would have been early and correctly formed ; where a traditionary stock of principles would have been ready for his use in the opinions and com- positions of his schoolfellows ; where the con- jectures and arguments of commentators, unac- companied by their rude disputes, would have been first conveyed to his m.ind; and where a judicious instructor, by his own remarks, would not only have assisted the judgment of I\lr. Wakefield, but would have taught liim to smile at the self-importance, and to avoid the acrimony, of the most eminent critics. Dr. Warton of Winclicster, and Dr. John Foster of Eton, carried into tlieir writings the same
442 APPENDIX. (G.)
candid and liberal spirit which pervaded their oral instructions; and their examples, I am sure, were equally favourable in their literary and moral effects on the minds of their scholars.
Mr. Wakefield was himself \ery sensible of the inconveniences to which he was ex- posed from another circumstance, which I am now going to mention; and in his letters to me, he has more tlian once lamented them most ingenuously and most feelingly. In con- sequence of his habits of retirement, of his separation from the English church, and the English universities, of his residence in places far remote from the capital, and of his nu- merous and honourable employments, Mhen he came into the neighbourhood of it, he sel- dom had access to the conversation of such among his countrymen, as are most distin- guished for philological learning. But, from my own personal experience, I can say with justice of those who take the lead among them, that Mr. Wakefield would have derived the greatest advantage from their frieiidly com- munications; and would have met, not only with more wisdom, but Avith more candour, than the generality of the world is prone to ascribe to verbal critics. If much intimacy had fortunately subsisted betAveen these ex-
APPENDIX. (G.) 443
cellent men and our friend, he might have been often contradicted; he would have been sometimes vanquished; but he would have al- ways been enlightened, and very seldom dis- pleased. " Si quidem vera Amicitia nullam fert ETT/^ai^j^^ajc/a:/, nullam Malevolentiam, nul- lam Invidiam, Irrisionem nullam." Life of Ruhnken, page 1 62.
Men who talk to each other with freedom and good humour, are seldom disposed to write about each other with bitterness and scorn. But it was the hard fortune of Mr. Wakefield to meet M'ith rivals, rather than guides and auxiliaries, among his contemporaries; and for this reason, erroneous and rash opinions, which might have been previously corrected by con- versation, sometimes found their way into his M'ritings. To me, however, it seems wonder- ful that a m.an, who had so little personal in- tercourse with philologists, should so intensely, and, I will add, so successfully have turned his attention to those subjects, in which the curiosity of scholars is chiefly interested, and on which their talents are chiefly employed.
Every man of letters M'ould do well to read Morhofi's Chapter de Conversatione Erudita, where he tells us, " titulo Homiletices eru- DiTyE, Librum mihi scribendum aliquando proposui;" and every impartial critic on the
444 APPENDIX. (G.)
philological labours of Mr, Wakefield, will ac- knowledge the importance of the following remark : " Nihil ad Informationem commo- dius est, qiiam frequens cum viris doctis Cori- versatio, qu^ est Disciplina omnium optima, et in Sensus magis incurrit, quam tsdiosa ilia per Lectiones et Meditationes Via." — Vid. Morhoff. Polyhis. Lit. lib. i. cap. 5, pag. 1 65, vol. i.
I have sometimes thought that the range of Mr. Wakefield's critical reading M'as too confined, and the course of his classical read- ing too diversified and irregular. He had not begun, I believe, till very lately, to make the metre of the ancient writers a subject of di- rect and distinct study. He does not ajipear to have been very deeply versed in the writ- ings of Hsephestio, Terentianus Maurus, Dio- medes, Marius Victorinus, and the other me- trical Avriters in Putsch's Collection; nor even in the rules laid down by Hare, Bentley, Mo- rcll, Heath, &c. and without much preparatory knowledge, he could hardly have turned to good account the very curious and valuable information which has lately been communi- cated to the world by Herman and by Porson. He had not very accurately examined the history of the changes which took place in the Greek orthography. He had not been mucli
APPENDIX. (G.) 443
accustomed to consult the structure of letters in manuscript, though, from the works of Bentley and other scholars, lie had gained some useful general notions, upon the sources of errors in transcribers.
The learned biographer of Ruhnken speaks with just commendation of the method in which Ruhnken conducted his studies; and after enumerating the order which Albert! followed in his reading, he tells us, " regiam illam viam, gravissimorum et antiquissimorum quorumque deinceps scriptorum ex ordine legendorum, aut non ingressus est, aut in- gressus mox reliquit.
This, perhaps, was, in some measure, the case with Mr. Wakefield. I suspect that his mind v\^as embarrassed and confused by the multiplicity of his reading; that it was not sufficiently stored with those principles which a man of his industry and sagacity might have easily collected from the great work of Henry Stephens on the Dialects, and from the cele- brated preface of Pierson to Moeris: that he passed with too much rapidity from M^iters of one age and in one dialect, to writers of other ages, and in other dialects ; from prose to verse; from epic to dramatic poetry; from tragedy to comedy; from epigrammatists to iyric writers; that he had read much, observed
44(3 APPENDIX. (G.)
mucli, and remembered much ; that he was eager to produce the multifarious matter which he had accumulated; and that he wanted time or patience for that discrimination, which would have made his conjectures fewer, in- deed, but more probable; and his principles in forming or illustrating them more exact.
" I have alwaj^s suspected," says Johnson, " that the reading is right, which requires many words to prove it wrong; and the emen- dation wrong, that cannot, without so much labour, appear to be right. The justness of a happy restoration strikes at once." lluhn- ken, it shoukl seem, was nearly of the same opinion with Johnson, " Emendationum con- jecturas, nisi sponte et siibito, facili certe partu, natas, non probabat." Life of Rhunken, pag. 221. — But the faculty of striking off such conjectures surely ttoXA^j la-rl Trei^ug TeXevjcmov eTTiysvvvif^u. Longin. sect. vi. And, in the ab- sence of the aids from genius and experience which are necessary to such felicity, the pa- tient industry of Mr. Markland is most worthy of imitation.
I have, therefore, sometimes indulged a wish that Mr. Wakefield, instead of pushing on to fresh editions of books, or to fresh emen- dations of writers, had sitten doAvn to review his own critical works. When the first and
APPENDIX. (G.) ' 447
sudden allurements of emendation had passed away — when his mind Wt\s at leisure to con- sider " the objections which might arise against the change which onceappeared tohimhappy" — when correction was the professed and imme- diate ol)ject in which he was to be employed, I am persuaded that he would have observed and retracted many of his om^i mistakes; and that he would have placed a proper degree of reliance upon those canons of criticism, which lie had examined negligently, and rejected hastily. Some of them have been long esta- blished by the general consent of scholars, and others, though recent, are decisive and illus- trious proofs of sagacity in the persons who proposed them. Most of his prejudices, in- deed, would have been corrected, and most of his deficiencies would have been supplied, if he had met with opportunities for conversing familiarly with the scholars who adorn our capital and our universities.
It was once suggested to me that even his arduous and most meritorious labours in the elucidation of the Scriptures, might have no very favourable influence upon his judgment, when he directed his thoughts, as an editor and as a critic, towards the profane writers of antiquity. Upon this point, I shall not myself attempt to decide; nor do I think it necessary,
448 APPENDIX. (G.)
upon the present occasion, to enlarge npon tlie very different qualifications for criticism, in those M'ho undertake to explain the sacred writings, and those who are employed upon the classical writers of antiquity. But in justice to Mr. Wakefield, and with frequent and im- portant differences of opinion from him upon controversial questions in theology, I must ac- knowledge the success, and commend the judgment with which he applied his philologi- cal learning to the illustration of the scrip- tures.
The natural vigour of his mind, the great increase of his knowledge, and the gradual im- provement of his taste, are visihle in many of his later English productions: for in point of elegance and correctness, as well as energy, they far surpass the earlier jjroductions of his pen in his own language.
He seems to have composed in Latin with great ease and rapidity, I mean in his later works, when practice had enabled him to over- come the difficulties of which he complains in his Memoirs. Habit, no doubt, M'as accom- panied by improvement, as well as by facility. But, in common with many other scholars, he had not attained to any eminence in the art of what Wyttenbach calls "• vel Latine scribendi, , vel bene." Life of Ruhnken, pag. 227- — In the
APPENDIX. (G.) 449
sreneral structure of his sentences there is something of harshness and embarrassment. His periods are seldom harmonious; and none, I fear, of his Latin productions are wholly free from faults, which he would have been taught to avoid in our best public seminaries, and of which I have seen many glaring instances in the works of archbishop Potter, Dr. John Taylor, Mr.Toup, and several eminent scholars now living, who were brought up in private schools.
In thus endeavouring to account for the imperfections of Mr. Wakefield's writings, I would not be understood to depreciate their real, great, and solid merit. Many who, like myself, discern those imperfections, are far below ]\Ir. Wakefield, not only in industiy, but in acuteness; not only in extent, but, perhaps, in accuracy of knowledge; not only in the contributions which they have made, or en- deavoured to make, to our general stock of knowledge, but in their capacity to make them so largely or so successfully.
While, therefore, we state what Mr. Wake- field has not done, let us bear in mind what he actually did ; and when we enumerate the causes, which might have enabled him to do better, let iis remember the obstacles with which he had to contend, when he did so well.
VOL. II. 2 G
450 APPENDIX. (G.)
He had fewer incentives than other men to exertion, from secular emoluments. He had fewer opportunities for improvement than others, from access to public libraries, from the advantages of public education, and above all from the company of persons accurately and profoundly learned. But his diligent re- searches, his extensive and various knowledge, his zeal for the diffusion of learning, and his solicitude for the discovery of truth, will al- ways be remembered with respect by unpreju- diced judges, who consider the numerous dif- ficulties with which he had to struggle, and the virtuous motives by which he was ac- tuated.
For my part, I shall ever think of him as one of the best scholars produced by my own country in my own age; and as one of the best men who, in any country, or in any age, have examined the evidences of Christianity se- riously, believed them sincerely, defended them earnestly, and endeavoured to practise the du- ties which it inculcates, steadfastly and faith- fully.
I am, dear Sir,
Your very faithful well-wisher and obedient servant, Hatton, S. Parr.
June 1, 1804.
Arnold JVainexvright, Esq.
APPENDIX. (G.) 451
While the foregoing letter was in the press, some additional remarks were communicated by Dr. Parr in the following letter, addressed as before:
Dallington, near Northampton, June 25, 1804. DEAR SIR,
I AM now on a visit to my respect- able friend, Mr. Rye, and among other excel- lent books in his possession, I met with the JEschinis Socratici Dialogi tres, edited by Le Clerc, and the Silvse Philologicae, which he af- fixed to that edition.
The whole work seems to have been writ- ten, while the mind of Le Clerc was smarting under the barbarous treatment he received from Bentley and Burman, in consequence of the metrical blunders, and unsatisfactory emendations, which may be found in his edi- tion of Menander. But the first cliapter of the SilvEe ought to be read attentively by every man who unites good-sense and good principles with critical knowledge, and it con- tains a passage, which, in justice to Le Clerc himself, and the illustrious scholars whom he commends, I beg of you to affix to the letter; 2
452 APPENDIX. (G.)
which I some time ago wrote to you, about our friend, the late Mr. Wakefield.
I am, dear Sir,
Truly and faithfully yours,
S. Parr,
" Si fuerunt viri litterati acerbiores sequo et superbi, mitiores alii et modesti fuerunt. Dionysius Lanibinus, Janus (iruterus, Caspar Scioppius, et Dionysius Petavius insectati sunt, fateor, sua £etate, Gifanios, Pareos, Gotho- fredos, Scaligeros et Salmasios, nee hi omnes adversariis semper pepercerunt. Sed non de- sunt mitiorum exempla, ut Isaaci Casauboni, Gerardi Joannis Vossii, qui, quod equidem sciam, neminem sunt insectati, et Joan: Schef- feri, qui Tan : Fabro, a quo irrisus et male ha- bitus fuerat, modestissim^ et optim^, in pos- terioribus notis ad Phaedrum respondit. Ja- cobus etiam Sirmondus, ^ Jesuitarum sodalitio, bonarum litterarum studia, sine cujusquam in- juria, coluisse fertur. His subjungere possu- mus Joan: Georgium Greevium, ob incruen- tum calamum, nuper laudatum. Quin et ex- empla insignia ejus mansuetudinis viva nunc habemus duos illustres quidem illos, munerum amplitudine, sed ingenio et insigni litterarum elegantiorum cognitione, cum summa Imma- nitate conjuncta, clariores viros, Ezech.
APPENDIX. (G.) 453
Spanhemium, et Gisbertum Cuperum ; quos merito suspicit Europa, et quos suae mansuetu- dinis, modesti^Eque, quamvis injuriis interdum provocates, nondum poenitere non temere ad- firmanms.
" Ergo optimos quosque viros, et qui bonas artes, ut cum Gellio loquar, sinceriter cupiunt adpetuntque, hos quam maxim^ humanissimos esse oportet, operamque dare, ne, vitiis suis, innoxiis litteris contemptum apud imperitos creent. — Silv. Philologic. cap. 1, pag. 139-
I have great pleasure in communicating the following addition:
" Dionys. Petavius, qui modum nullum ser- vavit in exagitando Scaligero, apud suos dicere solebat, eum, etiam cum erraret, docere: quod nobis aperuit sodalis ejus et amicus Francisc. Vavassor." P. 141.
Dr. Johnson, I remember, made a similar remark on Dr. Bentley, when he and I were conversing about Bentley "s Notes on Horace, and the Strictures written upon them, by Johnson of Nottingham and Alexander Cun- nino'ham.
APPENDIX. (H.)
Renmrks, relative to the Character of Mr. Wakefield, by a Clergyman of the Church of England.
In general the character of a man is most satisfactorily displayed in his actions and his works. Yet to this maxim there are excep- tions; and there is scarcely to be found one more striking than in the instance of Mr. Wakefield. As a man, his motives and prin- ciples were frequently misunderstood; as a writer, from various causes, the occasions were few in which he did justice to his own talents. If the strictest and most inflexible in- tegrity can give estimation and lustre to a character, there are not many that can come in competition with Gilbert W^akefield. It was the leading feature of his life and the stone of stumbling in the way of his promo- tion. The principal troubles and anxieties which he had to encounter were produced by his steady adherence to what he considered as
APPENDIX. (H.) 455
the right. From the just reputation which he had acquired at the university, and the advan- tageous connexions he had formed, there can- not be a doubt that tlie road to ecclesiastical preferment lay open before him ; he had only to pursue his way to arrive at emolument and distinction. He was even more fortunately circumstanced than the generality of church- men ; his proficiency in classical erudition was such as must have rendered him a desirable acquisition in the capacity of a tutor even to the first families and interests in the nation. He could make himself eminently useful, and therefore could, in some measure, have com- manded fortune. To discuss the foundation of his religious scruples is not necessary in this place. It is sufficient that they were most conscientiously entertained; and of this the strongest proof was the regret which he so commonly expressed that the career of his honest ambition was interrupted, and his sphere of usefulness proportionably circum- scribed, by the continual opposition between his duty and his interest.
This tenaciousness^ of his integrity, this strict adherence to the dictates of conscience Mas not confined in a solitary instance, nor to
" Justum et tenacem propositi virun>.
456 APPENDIX. (H.)
one walk of life, it was visible in every tran- saction M'hatever, and Avas carried, as some would think, to an extreme, if there can be an extreme of rectitude and honesty. Some things, which in Mr. Wakefield were too ge- nerally regarded as the faults of temper, are to' be attributed to this source; — to a feeling exquisitely delicate of the just and upright in: human dealings. To this he cheerfully sacri- ficed every other consideration, and " counted all things but loss" for the performance of his' dut}-. If his zeal for what he regarded as the right carried him on some occasions beyond the strict boundary of prudence, still let not those who may differ in opinion from him mistake the motive. It was pure as that of a martyr, and as it Vv'as pure it was re- spectable.
It may appear somewhat extraordinary, that though^of a very fervid spirit, he never in private seemed dcsiro.us of making prose- lytes to his religious opinions. The writer of this character (who was particularly honoured with the intimate acquaintance of Mr. Wake- field for a longer series of years than, perhaps, any man now in existence out of his own fa- mily, and who yet essentially differed from him on the most important points) can testify, that he never made the slightest attempt to
APPEkDIX, (H.) 457
gain over his friend to his own opinions. He seldom indeed introduced them in conversa- tion, unless he v/as attacked upon them. He professed himself in general a friend to free inquiry, and recommended a perusal of the scriptures to every one, rather with a view to the exploring of the truth than to confirm or establish any particular doctrines, whether his own, or those of any other sectary.
If Mr. Wakefield erred, it was in the se- vere, and, perhaps, sometimes uncharitable, manner in which he treated his literary and political adversaries. Yet even in this — the most vulnerable part of his character — it may with truth be affirmed, that he was directed more by principle than by passion. It was that nice sensibility to every deviation from moral principle, so characteristic of his own conduct, that rendered him severe towards those who seemed to trifle with their dutv. Besides this, he had imbibed an opinion that every literary controvers}^ should be strenu- ously conducted, or not entered into at all; and this he thought justified the violence of the parties, especially when truth was the object. His controversial writings are, therefore, in some instances, defaced by intemperance of language, by personalities, and even by rude
458 APPENDIX. (H.)
expressions. Much of this would have been corrected had he not always been too hasty in the composition of his productions, or had he taken time to correct them. But they were in general the effusions of the moment, and committed to the press, perhaps, without his having even once glanced over their contents.
In private life, where his natural disposi- tions were most predominant, he was the re- verse of this. He was the mild, the cheerful, the amusing companion. His lips were tinged with honey, though his pen was sometimes dipped in gall. He was lively and even play- ful in conversation. He loved young persons, and was beloved by them, as was evinced, among other instances, in the attachment of the students at Hackney college. He could bear contradiction with great temper, though he asserted his own opinions with firmness; but in general he was not fond of dispu- tation.
Let not the infidel or the sceptic audaciously claim any '* lot or part" in this excellent man. His opinions, though differing in some respects from established doctrines, were dia- metrically opposite, and invariably hostile to theirs. He was not satisfied with thinkins: that the scriptures offer much better grounds
APPENDIX. (H.) 4.59
for virtue tlian any system that ever appeared; his opinion was that they furnish the only grounds, and other systems none at all. He was therefore a firm believer in the promises and prospects afforded by the gospel.
Mr. Wakefield's talents will scarcely be judged of correctly by his publications. His reputation for classical learning is indeed well established, not only in this country, but throughout Europe. He was critically versed in all the Greek and Roman writers: he was master of the Hebrew, and possessed a know- ledge of the Arabic and even the Coptic. For these studies he was eminently qualified, ])y possessing one of the most retentive me- mories that ever fell to the lot of man. He assured the writer of these pages that at one time of his life he had b}^ heart the whole of Virgil and Horace, almost the whole of Homer and of Pindar, and the Holy Scriptures. Of this we ma}^ cite as a proof his uncommon readiness and aptness at quotation. Those pieces which he composed most rapidly are full of learned quotations, M^hen it is manifest from the time he employed upon them, that it was impossible any part of it should have been expended in looking into books. He fre- quently indeed lamented that his memory was so tenacious, that in composing, the chain of
460 APPENDIX. (H.)
his own Ideas was interrupted by those of other men, which invohintarily intruded upon him.
But while they give credit to his erudition, the public will perhaps be disposed to depre- ciate his talents; and they will be less inclined to credit the assertion that he was a man of great genius, of an excursive fancy, and of fine taste. Of all this, those only mIio en- joyed his conversation are competent judges. He seldom spoke upon any subject wdthout re- flecting lustre upon it, and putting it in a new and striking point of view. The observation may appear singular, yet the writer cannot help being of opinion that had Mr.Wakefield been less learned his genius would have been more conspicuous. He certainly, in illustrat- ing the work of another, sometimes wasted those talents which might have produced a better. i'hose industrious students who de- vote themselves to elucidating ancient authors, purifying the text and rectifying error, are to be classed amiong the benefactors of liter- ature, but abilities interior to those of Mr. Wakefield are competent to this undertaking. Lord Bolins' broke has somewhere remarked that Liltk^toi; had the genius for a lexico- grapher; Siepliens had talents superior to this servile tai^k.
APPENDIX. (H.) 461
Of his taste, perhaps, no better specimens need to be produced than his imitations and translations of Horace, Juvenal, &c. In his prose productions there are also some passages illuminated with all the splendour of genius, though it must be confessed that the style of the majority of them is unequal. The most perfect of his works, in this point of view, are, perhaps, " A sermon preached at Rich- mond on the peace of 17B'i," which contains some beautiful passages, and his " Evidences of Christianity." Why the majority of his productions are destitute of that polish and excellence, which might be expected from a man of his superior accomplishments, may be accounted for from the nature of the subjects, and from the circumstances under Avhich they were composed. He ac- counted it the first of duties, the end and ob- ject for which he was gifted with talents, to devote those talents to the study and explan- ation of the Holy Scriptures. The general bent of his studies, and the principal aim of his writings was this. Much of them were therefore employed in verbal criticism, where there is little scope for eloquence, and where the matter calls for more attention than the style. Perhaps too the composing much in a foreign and a dead language is not likely to
462 APPENDIX. (H.)
produce fluency and elegance in a writer of English; and perhaps his fond attachment to the writers of a preceding century, valuable indeed for their learning and information, but obsolete in their style, was not calculated to improve his taste. But, in truth, the great impediment to his excellence as a writer has been already intimated. The majority of his productions, and those on controversial sub- jects in particular, were too hastily composed. The first edition of his Memoirs was finished in the incredibly short space of twelve days; and the Letter to the Bishop of Landaff in one evening after tea. This, while it impresses us with astonishment as to the powers of the writer, affords an excuse for his imperfections, and, at the same time, leaves an impression of deep regret, that he who possessed such powers had not united with them a portion of patience; — that he who was capable of so much should have left any thing imperfect.
In fine, let us remember that the career of Mr. Wakefield was, by the act of Providence, interrupted before he had arrived at what may be considered as the age of literary ma- turity. Had it pleased the Great Disposer of all things to have indulged him with a pro- tracted existence, it is not probable that it would have passed without improvement. On
APPENDIX. (H.) 4m
the contrary, we may presume, that in some work more commensurate to his talents than any in which he had been previously engaged, he would have developed to posterity the riches of a mind highly gifted by nature, and stored with all that was valuable in the learn- ing of Greece and Rome.
w^
"IM^
-- *
■ II lir ir
:»i.iti; I, _i
, — -X-
■I
APPENDIX. (I.)
Epitaph on a mural Monument in the Church of Richmond, Surry.
In the adjoining Church-Yard, at the east-end of the Chancel,
lie the remains of
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, B.A.
formerly Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridgej
third son of George "Wakefield, M.A.
late Vicar of Kingston and Minister of this Parish :
He died September Q, 1801, aged 45.
Simplicity of manners and benev^olence of temper,
united with eminent intellectual accomplishments,
greatly endeared him in private life.
To the public he was known,
by high attainments in biblical and classical literature,
and the honesty and intrepidity of his endeavours
to promote the cause of Truth and Liberty.
Sustained by the atfection of numerous and estimable friends,
as well as by the testimony of Conscience,
he endured with fortitude
a State-Prosecution, and two years Imprisonment,
for his " Reply to the Address of the Bishop of LandafF
to the People of Great Britain."
Returning from the County-Prison of Dorchester,
with an unbroken spirit, but impaired strength,
and resuming his accustomed exertions,
he sunk under a fever, 14 weeks after his enlargement.
The expectation of immortality by the Christian Covenant
and the remembrance of his conscientious life
enabled him to meet death with complacency.
His loss, irreparable to his wife and children,
was deeply regretted by all his friends and relatives,
Thomas Wakefield, B. A. the Minister of this Parish, erects this Memorial of his Erother's Desert and his own Affeciion.
i
A Dei Tf
Paul the .^po
to t"*- i
^eiiioa '{ tl
a.)
Oimji^j
-iChiDcel,
'iiisli: Dptr,
-Jib,
aflttflS)
•;3Dait.
Vvcaant
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his hmh,
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i
APPENDIX (K.)
List of Mi\ JVakefield's Works in the Order of their Publication.
A OEMATA Latiiie partim scripta, partim red- dita; quibus accedunt queedam in Q. Horatium Flaccum observationes criticas.
Cantab. 1776. 4to.
A plain and short Account of the Nature of Baptism according to the New Testament : with a cursory Remark on Confirmation and the Lord's Supper.
Warrington, 1781. 12mo.
An Essay on Inspiration : considered chiefly with respect to the Evangelists.
Warrington, 1781. 8vo.
A new Translation of the First Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians, offered to the Public as a Specimen of an intended Version of the whole New Testament: with a Preface containing a brief Account of the Au- thor's Plan,
Warri no-ton, 1781. 8vo.
VOL. II.
H
\
i
APPENDIX. (I.)
Epitaph on a mural Monument in the Church of Richmond, Surry.
In the adjoining Church-Yard, at the east-end of the Chancel,
lie the remains of
GILBERT WAKEFIELD, B.A.
formerly Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge)
third son of George Wakefield, M.A.
late Vicar of Kingston and Minister of this Parish :
He died September Q, 1801, aged 45.
Simplicity of manners and benevolence of temper,
united with eminent intellectual accomplishments^
greatly endeared him in private life.
To the public he was known,
by high attainments in biblical and classical literature,
and the honesty and intrepidity of his endeavours
to promote the cause of Truth and Liberty.
Sustained by the affection of numerous and estimable friends,
as well as by the testimony of Conscience,
he endured with fortitude
a State- Prosecution, and two years Imprisonment,
for his " Reply to the Address of the Bishop of Landaff
to the People of Great Britain."
Returning from the County-Prison of Dorchester,
with an unbroken spirit, but impaired strength,
and resuming his accustomed exertions,
he sunk under a fever, 14 weeks after his enlargement.
The expectation of immortality by the Christian Covenant
and the remembrance of his conscientious life
enabled him to meet death with complacency.
His loss, ineparable to his wife and children,
was deeply regretted by all his friends and relatives.
Thomas Wakefield, B. A. the Minister of this Parish, erects this Memorial of his Brother's Desert and his own Affection.
APPENDIX (K.)
List of Mr. IFakefieid's Works in the Order of their Publication.
PoEMATA Latine partim scripta, partim red- dita: quibus accedunt quasdam in Q. Horatium Flaccum observationes critics.
Cantab. 1776. 4to.
A plain and short Account of the Nature of Baptism according to the New Testament: with a cursory Remark on Confirmation and the Lord's Supper.
Warrington, 1781. 12mo.
An Essay on Inspiration : considered chiefly with respect to the Evangelists.
Warrington, 1781. 8vo.
A new Translation of the First Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians, offered to the Public as a Specimen of an intended Version of the whole New Testament: with a Preface containing a brief Account of the Au- thor's Plan.
Warrington, 1781. Svo.
VOL. II. 2 H
466 APPENDIX. (K.)
A new Translation of the Gospel of St. Matthew; with Notes critical^ philological and explanatory.
Warrington, 1782. 4to.
Directions for the Student in Theology.
London, 1784. 12mo.
A Sermon preached at Richmond, in Surry, on July 29, 1784; the Day appointed for a general Thanksgiving on Account of the Peace.
London, 1784. 8vo.
An Enquiry into the Opinions of the Chris- tian Writers of the three first Centuries con- cerning the Person of Jesus Christ.
London, 1784. 8vo.
The Poems of Mr. Gray; with Notes.
London, 1785. 8vo.
Virgilii Maronis Georgicon libri IV.
Cantab. 1788. 8vo.
Remarks on Dr. Horsley's Ordination-Ser- nion : in a Letter to the Lord Bishop of Glou- cester.
London, 1788. 12mo.
APPENDIX, (K.) 46;
Four Marks of Antichrist : or a Supple- ment to the Warburtonian Lecture,
London, 1788. 8vo.
A new Translation of those Parts only of the New Testament, which are wrongly trans- lated in our common Version.
London, 1789- 8vo.
An Address to the Inhabitants of Notting- ham, occasioned by a Letter lately sent to the Mayor, and some other Members of the Cor- poration of that Town. With an Appendix on the Subject of the Test-Laws.
London, 1789. 8vo.
Remarks on the internal Evidence of the
Christian Religion.
London, 1789- 8vo.
■to'
Silva Critica: sive in Auctores sacros pro- fanosque Commentarius Philologus. Pars Prima.
Cantab, 1789- 8vo.
An Address to the Right Reverend Dr. Samuel Horsley, Bishop of St, David's, on the Subject of an Apology for the Liturgy and Clergy of the Church of England.
Birmingham, 1790. 8vo. 2
4(58 APPENDIX. (K.)
Silva Critica, &c. Pars Secunda.
Cantab. 1790. 8va.
Cursory Reflections, occasioned by the present Meetings in opposition to the Claims of the Dissenters and the Repeal of the Cor- poration and Test Acts.
Birmingham, 1790. 8vo.
An Enquiry into the Expediency and Pro- priety of public, or social, Worship.
London, 1791. 8vo.
[A third edition appeared in J 792.]
Memoirs of the Life of Gilbert Wakefield, B. A. late Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge. Written by himself.
London, 1792. Bvo.
Silva Critica, &c. Pars Tertia.
Cantab. 1792, Bvo.
A Translation of the New Testament : with Notes critical and explanator}\
London, 1792, 3 vol. Bvo.
[A second Edition appeared in 1795 in 2 vol. Bvo.]
APPENDIX. (K.) 469
Short Strictures on Dr. Priestley's Letter to a young Man concerning Mr. Wakefield's Treatise on public Worship.
London, 1792. 8vo.
A general Reply to the Arguments against the Enquiry into public Worship.
London, 1792. 8vo.
Evidences of Christianity: or a Collection of Remarks intended to display the Excel- lence, recommend the Purity, illustrate the Character and evince the Authenticity of the Christian Religion.
London, 1793. 8vo.
Silva Critica, &c. Quibus accedant Tres
Hymni Orphici, e codicibus MSS. Pars
Quarta.
Londini, 1793. 8vo.
The Spirit of Christianity compared with the Spirit of the Times in Great Britain.
London, 1794-. Svo.
[A third edition appeared in the same year.]
An Examination of the Age of Reason, by
Thomas Paine.
London, 1791'- Svo.
470 APPENDIX. (K.)
[A second edition, corrected and enlarged the same year.]
Remarks on the general Orders of the Duke of York to his Army, on June 7, 1794.
London, 1794, 8vo.
Q. Horatii Flacci, quae supersnnt, recen-
sivit et Notulis instruxit Gilbertus Wakefield,
A. B. in duob. torn.
Londini, 1794. 12mo.
[Some copies on large paper.]
Tragaedium Grgecarum delectus, iEschyli
Eumenides, Sophoclis Trachinise et Philoctetes,
Euripidis Hercules Farens, Alcestis et Ion.
in duob. torn.
Londini, 1794. 8vo.
[Some copies on large paper.]
The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq. with Remarks and Illustrations. Vol. I.
Warrington, 1794. 8vo.
[This edition was never completed.]
A Reply to Thomas Paine's Second Part of the Age of Reason.
London, 1795. Svo.
APPENDIX. (K.) 471
Silva Critica, &c. Pars Quinta et Ultima.
Londini, 1795. 8vo.
Poetical Translations from the Antients.
London, 1795. 12mo.
[Some copies on large paper.]
Bionis et Moschi quse supersunt, emendata
et illustrata.
Londini, 1795. 12mo.
[Some copies on large paper.]
P. Virgilii Maronis Opera: emendabat et
Notulis illustrabat Gilbertus Wakefield, A. B.
in duob. torn.
Londini, 179^- 12mo.
[Some copies on large paper.]
Observations on Pope.
London, 1796. 8vo.
A Reply to the Letter of Edmund Burke, Esq. to a Noble Lord.
London, 179^. 8vo.
[This came to a third edition.] The Iliad of Homer; translated by Alex.
472
APPENDIX. (K.)
wi*
Pope, Esq. A new Edition, with additional
Notes, critical and illustrative. In eleven
volumes.
London, 179^- 8vo.
T. Lucretii Cari de Rerum Natura Libros sex, ad exemplarium MSS. Fidem recensitos longe emendatiores reddidit, Commentariis perpetuis illustravit, indicibus instruxit ; et cum animadversionibus Ricardi Bentleii non ante vulgatis, aliorum subinde miscuit Gil- bertus Wakefield, A. B. Trib. torn.
Londini, 1796 & 1797. 4to.
[A few copies on large paper.]
In Euripidis Hecubam Londini nuper pub- licatam. Diatribe Extemporalis.
Londini, 1797. .
A Letter to Jacob Bryant, Esq. concerning his Dissertation on the War of Troy.
London, 1797. 4to.
A Letter to William Wilberforce, Esq. on the Subject of his late Publication.
London, 1797. 8vo.
[Of this there was a second edition.]
At!'- Trii
1... '
lilt .
aD OwvH
Genen;:.<> Ada: ■ livered r FeL. ■
Tk\
A Reply to some Parts of the Bishop of
h.
'tit; et ■' -iJtii Don Biscuit Gil-
4to.
"••r pul)-
■J
■eniing
3to.
„n of
I
t
APPENDIX. (K.)
473
LanclafF's Address to the People of Great
Britain.
London, 179B. 8vo.
[Of this there was a third edition.]
A Letter to Sir John Scott, his Majesty's
Attorney-General, on the Subject of a late
Trial in Guildhall.
1798, 8vo.
The Defence of Gilbert Wakefield, B. A. late Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge, on an official Information from the Attorney- General for a Reply to the Bishop of Landaff's Address to the People of Great Britain: de- livered in the Court of King's Bench, on Feb. 21, 1799.
An Address to the Judges in the Court of King's Bench, on Thursday, April 18, 1799-
An Address to the Judges, [intended to have been delivered] on being called up for judgment. May 30, 1799.
The First Satire of Juvenal imitated.
1800. 12 mo.
[The four last articles were never pub- lished, a few copies only having been printed for the author's friends.]
rT r I iTTr-
472 APPENDIX. (K.)
Pope, Esq. A new Edition, with additional
Notes, critical and illustrative. In eleven
volumes.
London, 1796. 8vo.
T. Lucretii Cari de Rerum Natura Libros sex, ad exemplarium MSS. Fidem recensitos longe emendatiores reddidit, Commentariis perpetuis illustravit, indicibus instruxit ; et cum animadversionibus Ricardi Bentleii non ante vulgatis, aliorum subinde miscuit Gil- bertus Wakefield, A. B. Trib. torn.
Londini, 1796 & 1797. 4to.
[A few copies on large paper.]
In Euripidis Hecubam Londini nuper pub- licatam, Diatribe Extemporalis.
Londini, 1797. .
A Letter to Jacob Bryant, Esq. concerning his Dissertation on the War of Troy.
London, 1797. 4to.
A Letter to William Wilberforce, Esq. on the Subject of his late Publication.
London, 1797. 8vo.
[Of this there was a second edition.] A Reply to some Parts of the Bishop of
APPENDIX. (K.) 473
Landaff's Address to the People of Great
Britain.
London, 1798. Bvo.
[Of this there was a third edition.]
A Letter to Sir John Scott, his Majesty's
Attorney-General, on the Subject of a late
Trial in Guildhall.
1798, 8vo.^
The Defence of Gilbert Wakefield, B. A. late Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge, on an official Information from the Attorney- General for a Reply to the Bishop of Landaff's Address to the People of Great Britain: de- livered in the Court of King's Bench, on Feb. 21, 1799.
An Address to the Judges in the Court of King's Bench, on Thursday, April 18, 1799.
An Address to the Judges, [intended to have been delivered] on being called up for judgment. May 30, 1799-
The First Satire of Juvenal imitated.
1800. 12mo.
[The four last articles were never pub- lished, a few copies only having been printed for the author's friends.]
474 APPENDIX. (E.)
Select Essays of Dio Chrysostom, trans- lated into English from the Greek : with Notes critical and illustrative.
London, 1800. 8vo.
Noctes Carcerariae; sive de legibus me- tricis poetarum Grascorum qui versibus hex- ametris scripserunt, disputatio.
London, 1801. 12mo.
Besides the above publications, a great number of papers by Mr. Wakefield, on sub- jects theological and miscellaneous, were com- municated by him to various periodical works, especially to the three last volumes of the Theological Repository, and the Monthly Ma- gazine.
INDEX.
A.
Abney, counsellor, sarcastic retort on, in a court of justice,
I. 29. Actions, number of, declared felonies without benefit of
clergy, I. 311. Address of Wakefield to his judges, II. 142, 388.
one, intended tohavebeendelivered, 113,120, 125, 151.
.- parting one, to four condemned criminals, 250 note.
Affection, singular one with which the Blacks in Jamaica are possessed, I. 296.
instances of the long duration of conjugal, IS/.
Affliction, the bitterest not always the least supportable, I. 389.
comparison of our own with tlie greater ones of
other men, a persuasive to gratitude, 39O. Age of Reason, by Paine, character of, 11. I9, 41.
Answer to, 20, 28.
_ — _ publisher of a cheap edition of, prosecuted,
36, 38. Aikin, Rev. Dr. particulars respecting, I. 21/. Aikin, Dr. John, charges the early votaries of the mathema- tics with neglect of the study in after life, I. 147.
Memoirof Dr. Enfield by, II. 225.
sketch of the character of Wakefield by, 314 note.
Aikin, Miss, Lines to the memory of Wakefield by, II. 335.
476 INDEX.
Albert!, Wakefield, for the multiplicity of his reading, com- pared with, II, 445.
Alcock, bishop, Jesus College, Cambridge, founded by, I, 65.
Algebra, disinclination of Wakefield to, I. 111.
Alphabetical Characters, Essay on the Origin of, I. 269, 511, 514. II. 339.
America, will attain no eminence in literature for many ge- nerations, I. 485.
Americans, sanguinary prayer against, in the church service, during the war, omitted by Wakefield, I, 197.
Amusements, favourite ones of Wakefield, I. 8/, 451. II. 3&7* 313.*
Anexagoras, trait of benevolence recorded of, I. 50 note.
Anecdote of a night-cap, I. 54.
— of a traveller in Paris ignorant of French, 55.
of a popish priest respecting tlie P^nglish univer- sities, 68.
of Dr. Boldero and the bishop of Ely, 80 note.
of a Cambridge proctor, gi.
of Dr. Halifax and Dr. Ogden, 97.
of a Cambridge doctor, by Fuller the historian, 153.
of Seeker, \6g.
of Chilling worth, 172 note.
of Tiberius, 19O note.
of a Welch curate, 202 note.
of a dissenting preacher, 209.
of Dr. P. of Warrington, 241, 242 note.
of Mr. John Wesley, 243.
' of Timothy Bennet, shoe-maker, and Lord Halifax,
253.
of Mr, John Lewis of Richmond, 259, 261, 2C4 note,
of Aristippus, 2/1 note.
of a prime minister and a prelate on the question
of repealing the test laws, 319. , of slaves in Scythia in revolt, 322.
INDEX. 477
Anecdote of the king of Prussia and an hussar, 324.
of a moderator in the astronomical schools at Cam- bridge, II. "JS note.
Antediluvians, longevity of, a point of difficult determination, I. 430.
Antichrist, Four Marks of, vi^hy published anonymously, 1.288.
Antisthenes quoted, on the advantage of studying philosophy, I. 345.
Apology for the Liturgy and Clergy of the Church of Eng- land, virulent spirit of, I. 325.
to whom ascribed, ih. 330.
Apostacy, nothing so injurious to the cause of truth as, I. x.
Apostles, character of, as men of learning, disputed, I. 282 note.
Animal food, Wakefield, in the latter period of his life, an enemy to the use of, II. 312.*
■ opinions of Hartley and Sir Thomas More on the sub-
ject, ih. note.
Ascham, Rogei-, an enemy to severity of discipline in schools, 1. 20 note, 32 note, 33 note.
evils resulting from the want of self-knowledge de- scribed by, 38 note.
.1 long duration of the matrimonial connection of the
parents of, 187 note
■ . laments the inattention of parents to the educatioij
of their children, 272 note. Asgil, sentiment of, on authors, I. 327 note, Ashton, Rev. Dr. Charles, particulars respecting, I. 68. Attainments, intellectual, valuable only as promoting virtue,
I. 354. II. 299. Authors, ancient, obligations of the moderns to, 1. 347. II. Q(X
.. excellence of the writings of, I. 349, ^50.
.. English, what the favourite ones of Wakefield, II.
309. *
4/8 INDEX.
B.
Bacon, ideas of, on thft value of biogfpphy, I. 5. • on the mode in which youth should be in- structed, 31 note. ■ — — on the neglect of states to the subject of edu-
cation, 36 note.
on cleanliness, 55 note.
on sacred learning, gg note.
■ on insincerity in matters of religion, 206.
on the way to advance in literary studies,
2/0 note.
• on the effect of lucre on the pursuit of know- ledge, 285 note.
on the practice of things just, regardless of
consequences, 302 note.
on penal laws, 311 note.
Backhouse, rev. Mr. instance of the credulity of, I. 120.
Badcock, rev. Mr. dishonest in his conformity to the church, I. 206.
parody by, 207.
conduct of, as a reviewer, 252.
Bagot, bishop, Dr. Enfield's character of, I. 552.
Bailey, rev. Mr. reasons of, for not desiring church prefer- ment, I, 18.
Ballad, celebrated one in the Spectator, by whom written, I 161.
Bampton Lectures, I. 207.
Baptism, Treatise on, I. 233, 456, 466.
designed for heathen converts, not for the children
of Christian parents, 434.
syllogism on, 458.
Baptism, arguments in favour of, answered, 460.
INDEX. 479
Barbauld, Mrs. I, 83, 222.
Barclay, Mr. M. P. one of Wakefield's sureties on his liberation
from prison, II. 264. Barclay, Robert, tendency of the writings of, I. 418, 436, Barnwel Priory, ruins of, still in being, I. 80. Barrington, lord, censures those writers, who put on the guise
of knowledge, to serve party views, I. 288 note. •— charges the great with the practice of raising a
false cry of danger, by means of their tools, 331 note. Bath Guide, lines from Anstey's, I. gy. Beadon, bishop, eloquence of, when public orator at Cambridge,
I. 132. • excuses himself from bearing testimony to the charac- ter of Wakefield on occasion of his trial, II. 379. Beccaria, deems the practice of nations no justification of the
penalty of death, I. 3l6 note. Beddoes, Dr. recommends the equal apportionmert in schools
of application and amusement, I. 32 note. Bedford, character of the late duke of, II. yy.
visits Wakefield in his imprisonment, 150.
— contributes to his subscription, 157.
• letter from him, il.
Belsham's Answer to Wilberforce cited, II. 1 10 note. Benevolence, admirable trait of, I. 50.
— amiableness of evangelical, 256.
Bennet, bishop, his regard for Wakefield, I. IO6.
popular effect of the extempore preaching of, 200.
Bennet, Timothy, of Hampton Wick, obtains the opening of
a road, which royal encroachment had shut up, I. 258. Bentley, I'ev. Dr. Richard, injustice of Dr. Ashton to, 1.68.
weakness of the opponents of, 70.
force and excellence of his writings, 71.267 note, 351.
charged with insolence and asperity, II. 439.
Rerdmore, rev. Samuel, character of, as a schoolmaster, I. 24. Bible, in some places a simple record of transactions, I. 412.
480 INDEX.
Bible, many extraordinary occurrences in, not to be understood in their full latitude, II. 28 note.
Purver's translation of, I. 444.
Blacburne, archdeacon, a sermon on moderation highly com- mended by, I. l6o note.
instances given by, of the persecuting character of
Seeker, 170 note. Blackstone, sentiments of, respecting the punishment of death, I. 310 note, 312 note.
estimate by, of the number of actions deemed by
the laws of England worthy of death, 311. Blair, rev. Dr. his Lectures on Rhetoric censured, I. 497. Boerhaave, feelings of, on seeing the execution of a criminal, I, 315 note
Boileau, lines from, on the effect of diffidence in an orator,
1.231. Boldero, rev. Dr. anecdote of, I. SO. Books, from what motives generally read, I. 157, scarcity of such as lie out of the track of common
readers disadvantageous to authors, 4/8, II. 6 note.
multiplicity of, read by Wakelield, injurious to him, 445.
Booksellers, severe treatment of two, confined in the prison
of Cold Bath Fields, II. 69. Boswell, James, university of Oxford how denominated by,
I. 60. Bowles, lines from, on acts of charity, I. 265.
on contrition, II. 248.
Braithwaite, rev. Mr. refuses church preferment from motives
of conscience, 1. 11 6. Brandreth, Dr. I. 211. Brewood school, I. 175,371, 374.
Browne, Dr. prize medals, at Cambridge, given by, I. po. Browne, Isaac Hawkins:, quoted, on the former excellence of
the university of Oxford, I. 60. Brunk, disparages Vauvilliers, and slyly steals from him,II. 439.
INDEX. 481
■s
Bryantj Jacob, Esq. Letter to, concerning his Dissertation on the
War of Troy, II. J 01. Burdon, William, Three Letters by, to the bishop of Landaff,
cited L X. II, ]2i note. Burke, Edmund, Letter by, to a Noble Lord, II. 70.
character of, as a writer, 7 1.
his pension, why disapproved of by his political oppo-
nents, 76 note. Burt, Robert, great intimacy between, and Wakefield, I. 474. Byrom, celebrated doctor, particulars respecting, I. 161.
C.
Cadell, Mr. bookseller, I. 528. II. 50 note.
Caligula, liberal spirit of, in refusing to listen to informers, II. 406.
Campbell, Dr. thinks the cause of religion injured by rigorous proceedings against its adversaries, II. 37-
Cambridge, university of, commended, I. 5Q, \4Q, 353.
number of degrees formerly obtained at, di- minished, 102.
defects of, specified, 150, 151.
propriety of establishing theological lectures at.
discussed, l63. liberal regulations of the press belonging to, 279;
Camelford lord, I. 532, 542.
Careless, Mr. I. 175.
Carey, Dr. literary obligations of Wakefield to, II. 100.
Caryl, rev. Dr. Lynford, particulars respecting, I. 63.
his regard for Wakefield, I89 note. . j^..
Castyl, Polyglott Lexicon by, preferable to BaxtoT{'r,'l:10l.
note. Catullus quoted, on folly, I. 120.
VOL. II. 2 J
482 INDEX.
Catullus quoted, on laughter, 153. Chanty, virtue of, describe d, I. 74 note.
acts of, immortal, 2G5.
• an excellent subject for a pathetic discourse, 395.
Children, uncertain duration of their lives, an argument for
the mild treatment of, I. 34. See farther schools. Chillingworth, educated at Oxford, I. 60,
■ ■ letter on subscription, 172 note.
■ MS. tract on capital punishment, 318 note.
Chilo quoted, on the employment of leisure, I 345 note. Chinese, have no alphabetical characters, II. 351, 357. Christianity, value of, in affliction, I, 389- II. 7.
• nothing more injurious to the cause of, than a
concealment of the difficulties attending it, I. 398. ■ what part of the Jewish ritual abolished by, 41 1.
■ — steadfastness of Wakefield's belief in, II. 7, 17>
26, 330.
Spirit of, compared with the Spirit of the TimeS;^
II. 13.
striking features of, HI.
cultivation of letters will never be subversive of,
317* note. — See farther Gospel and Religion. Chriftians, primitive, stedfastness of, I. 523. distinction between, and those of after
times, in the object of their sufferings, 524. Church of England, association for the reform of, I. 127 note. _,,..^ ^ , inequality in tiie provision for its clergy,
one of the crying sins of, I. 479. service of, why attended by Wakefield in
his imprisonment, II. 273. Cbrysostom, Dio, Select Essays from, translated by Wakefield
in prison, II. 1 89. —————. intended preface to the work, II. 190,231 note. Cibber, his life cited as an instance of interesting biography,
1.6.
INDEX. 483
Cicero quoted, on freedom of enquiry, I. 124. on visiting places where eminent men have re- sided, 146 note, on consistency of conduct in early and later
life, 237.
on gratitude in the pupil to the preceptor, 275.
on style, 349.
on the manner in which he employed himself
in retirement, II. 314.*
on the death of Hortensius, 322.
on the facility with which we may improve the
inventions of others, 345 note, on war, 403.
Circuits, judicial, the unfrequent recurrence of, a defect in the administration of our laws, I. 362 note.
.Clarendon, his Life cited as an instance of interesting bio- graphy, I. 6,
Clarke, Dr. Samuel, countenanced what he deemed erroneous, by continuing in the church, II. 3 16* note.
a firm advocate for free enquiry, ih.
Claudian quoted, on the Scythian slaves in revolt, I. 322.
on the elements acting in favour of an hero,
II. 32 note. sublime simile stolen from, by an English poet, T.
348.
laypole, Mrs. I. 188. Clayton, bishop, his Vindication of the Histories of the Old and
NewTeftament commended, I. 431. Clayton, rev. Dr. excellence of the character of, I. 226.
essay ascribed to, 321 .
___——. letter from, to Wakefield, 555.
Clemens Alexandrinus quoted^ on alphabetical writing, II.
352 note. Clergy, number of, that disapprove of the doctrine of the
Trinity, I. 123 note.
484 INDEX.
Clergy, mercenariness of the superior, to curates, 1. 140, 202.
cannot be proper witnesses of the doctrines of the
church, 287.
comparison of, to the moth, ib. note.
sycophantic and domineering spirit of, how to be
treated, 325.
Cogan, rev. E. remarks on the literary character of Wake- field by, in the Monthly Magazine, II. 3 lO.
Coke, Daniel Parker, instance of his candour nnd liberality, I. 301.
conduct of, on the trial of the Birmingham rioters, 302.
, sir Edward, a supposed anceftor of Wakefield's grand- mother, misapprehension on this subject corrected, 1.12 note 1
Cold Batli Fields, severities exercised in the prison of, II. 68.
position in a pamphlet in vindication of, re- futed, J44.
College, Brazen-nose, pleasant adventure on the name of, I. 202 note.
College, Emanuel, accused by Wakefield of acting dishonour- ably towards him, I. 104.
conduct of, elucidated by his editors, 105
note
paucity of honours obtained by, 106 note.
College, Jesus, mode of election on a vacancy of fellowship
at, 1. 13 note. masters and tutors of, in Wakefield's time,
63, 65
by whom founded, ih.
■ celebrated characters educated at, 66 to yg.
• monuments of antiquity in the ante-chapel of.
79-
m rural situation of, favourable to study, 80.
saying of James I. respecting, ib.
College, King's, by its constitution singularly unfavourable to learning, I. \55.
INDEX. 485
College Pembroke, extraordinary number of honours obtained by, I. 106 note.
Collins, lines from, on affection to the deadj I. 297.
Comber, rev. Dr. I. 70.
Commendation, proper effect of, II. 233.
Commentaries and Essays, 1.517.
Confinement, severities of, their ill effect, II. 145.
the restraint of, in what degree proper, 389.
Confirmation, ceremony of, I. 164. II. 430.
Conscience, different kinds of, described, I. 321.
Conversation, character of Wakefield's, II. 302, 458.
the want of, with the most distinguished philo- logical scholars, injurious to him, 442.
Converts, interested ones the most intolerant, I. 170, 252.
Wakefield not ambitious of gaining converts, II.
318,456.
Corporation of Nottingham, conduct of, to Wakefield's father, for his vote at an election, I. 17.
to a master of the free-school when disordered
in his mind, 28. oppose the building of a more healthy town-gaol.
500.
inform against each other for neglecting the qua-
lifications required by the test act, 318. Correspondence, of Wakefield with his daughter, II. 184, 219, 226, 233, 245, 248, 252, 262, 299, 304 note.
[For the farther correspondence of Wakefield see the names of the respective persons to whom his letters were addressed.] Courtenay, Mr. instance of his pleasantry in parliamentary de- bate, II. 426. Cowley, thinks it a delicate task for a man to write of him- self, I. 3. Cowper, merits of his translation of Homer estimated, II. 03.
4^6 INDfiX.
Cov.'lpeY, happy eflect produced on his mind by noticing some strictures of Wakefield, gs note.
lines from, on social intci course, 305.
— — on tuition, 307.
Crafton, Mr. a quaker, letter from Wakefield to, on the writ- ings of Law and Barclay, I. 417.
Cranraer, educated at Cambridge, I. 66.
mistake respecting his lineal descendants corrected,
67 note.
Cricket, one of the favourite amuseraenrs of Wakefield, I. 87. I J. 307*
Crigan, bishop, I, 178.
Criminals, kindness and persuasion the only rational mode of reforming, II. 145, 272, 279, 39I, 393.
— instance of the efficacy of such treatment of, 247.
parting address of Wakefield to four condemned
ones, 250 note.
distance of the prison and place of trial from the
place where the offence may have been committed, a source
of injustice to, 276, — See farther Goals. Criticisms, biblical, I. 419, 429, 432, 441, 447,467. Critics, acrimony of, difficult to be accounted for, II. 438.
examples of liberal ones, ib. 441.
of virulent ones, 439.
.. defects of Wakefield as a critic, to what ascribablc.
440 to 447. Crompton, Dr. II. 183.
Cumberland, Mr. how related to Bentley, I. 162. Currie, William, Mr. promising talents of, when at school,
I. 52. Cuthel, Mr. bookseller, prosecuted and convicted for publishing
Wakefield's reply, II. 123, 127, 1^9-
INDEX. 487
Darby, Mr, inactivity of, as a college tutor, I. 65. Darwin, dislich from, on oppression, I, 3 16 note.
character of his Botanic Garden, II. 228.
letter from, to Wakefield, on his criticisms of that
poem, 229.
Day, distich from, II. l/Q.
Death, penalty of, no man or community of men authorised to
inflict it, I, 310. number of crimes by the English laws made liable to,
311.
abolished in Russia as pernicious, 312 note.
■ general practice among nations no justification of.
310.
lawgivers who impose or acquiesce in it, the execu-
tioners of those on whom it is inflicted, ib.
excluded in the criminal code of the duke of Tuscany,
even in the case of murder, II. 146.
disposition to inflict, in the English legislature, appa-
rently subsiding, 235.
Defence of Wakefield on his trial, extracts from, I. 3/8, II. 66, 124, 125, 129, 131 note, 133, 134 note, 135, 140.
Appendix to, 377*
Degree, bachelor's, at Cambridge, how obtained, I. 105.
Demons, phrase of casting out, an accommodation to vulgai prejudices, I. 430.
Demosthenes quoted, on truth and justice the grounds of hu- man actions, 1. 125.
on asperity of retort, 327.
on unprovoked enmity, 328,
instance of the treachery of, as a pleader, 1 80
note.
saying of, on freedom of speech, II. 407-
^88 INDEX.
Depravation of the human heart, an unscriptural and erroneous
doctrine, I. 4ig. Details, defence of minute ones in writing, II. 201 note. Dewhurst, rev. Mr. I. xii. Digamma, projected Treatise on the Use of, in the Prosody
of Homer, II. 241. Dinner, late hour of, in colleges, injurious, I. 153. Diodorus Siculus quoted, on the invention of letters, II. 343
note on the hieroglyphics of the Egyptians, 355
note.
Diogenes, Laertius, quoted, on the parsimony of parents in
the education of their children, I, 271 note. Disease, singular one with which Wakefield was afflicted, I.
277, 549. II. 415. Disney, rev. Dr. Memoirs of the Life of Jortin by, cited, I.
71, 120.
Memoirs of Jebb, 93,
expostulation of, with Knox, 148 note.
one of the executors of Mr. Dodson, II. 195.
Dissent, what the principles of, I. 206.
Dissenters, mode of praying observed by, disapproved by
Wakefield, I. 241.
general outcry against, 330.
college belonging to, 333.
' plan of education recommended to the attention
of, 340.
classical learning little known or valued amono-.
345. Dissenting ministers, dishonesty of, in conformincr to tlic
church. See Subscription.
preaching anecdotes of, I. 209.
Dobson, Dr. and Mrs. f. 179.
Doddri'ige, rev Dr. prosecution meditated against, for keep- ing » srhoo!, I. 220. Dodson, Michael, Esq. character of, II. I93.
INDEX. -489
Dodson, Michael, Esq. beqneatlis a legacy to Wakefu.id, 10.5. Dolben, sir William, whimsical misapplication by, in parlia- ment, of a passage from Priestley, II. 426. Dorchester gaol,, Wakefield's arrival at, II. 163. . no provision made in, but for felons and
debtors, l66. . wretchedness of the objects immured there.
175.
mercenary conduct of the keeper of, 197, 202.
■ illiberality of the superintending magistrates.
1(58, 171,205.
-- severe treatment of condemned criminals in,
previous to execution, 246.
attempt of Wakefield, on his removal, to get
the abuses of, remedied, 266. D'Orville, learned but acrimonious as a critic, II, 438. Dress, Wakefield in his economy respecting, compared to
Erasmus, II, 311.* Dryden, advantages derived by Pope from his translation of
Virgil, II. 92 Duncombe, lines from, in imitation of Grey, I. 152,
E.
Eachard, number of degrees formerly obtained at Cambridge,
stated by, I. 102. Early rising, benefits of, I. 144, 527. II. 311 .* East, ceremony of turning to, I, 162, Economy, instance of ingenuity in the practice of, I. 242. Eden, William (lord Auckland) sentiment of, on penal laws,
I. 313 note, 3l6 note. Education, a subject which states have always neglected, I.
36 note.
490 INDEX
Education, sordid maxims of the opulent in the business of, 271.
observations on academical, 340.
what the proper object of, 344.
' public preferred to private, II. 305 note.
See further, Schoolmasters and schools, Edwards, rev. Dr. passage from, on classical learning, I. 350. Elohini, argument in favour of the Trinity, from the plural
termination of, refuted, I. 250 note, Ely, bishop of, a sufferer under the protectorate, I. 80. Eminent men, benefit and pleasure of visiting places where
they have resided, I. 145, II. 55. Emlyn, Mr, reasons of for non -conformity, 1. 123 note. Emulation, instance of its good effect, I, 83.
disadvantage of checking it in youth, 93.
Encroachments, instances of royal ones, near Richmond, I. 258
to 264. Enfield, rev. Dr. William, particulars respecting, I. 223. letter from, to Dr. Clayton on the supposed death of
Wakefield, 224 note.
letters from, to Wakefield, 385, 551, 557.
Engagements, Wakefield singularly punctual in observing, II. 311.*
English language, well adapted to convey the peculiarities of
the Greek idiom, II. 211 note. ' seeming violations of, in the writings of
Wakefield, vindicated, 231 note. Envy, Wakefield wholly exempt from, II. 324. Epigram, excellent one by a youth at college, I. 262 note. Epitaph in St. Mary's, Nottingham, I. 14.
on Wakefield's father, 20.
' " -■ on Rev, Dr. Aikin, by Wakefield, 222.
on Mr. Heywood, by Wakefield, 298,
on Wakefield, II. 464.
Erskine, Hon. Thomas, conduct of, in the prosecution of the Age of Reason, II. 39.
INDEX. 491
JErskinC;, Hon. Thomas, versatility of his principles on that oc- casion, singularly disgusting to Wakefield, 40,
Eton school, commended as sending out the best scholars, I. 155.
Evanson, Mr. his Letter to Bishop Hurd, I. 166, 289, 508.
Euclid, appellation given him in derision, I. 83.
Euripides quoted, on the order of nature inverted, I. 292.
■ distress of Wakefield on thefear of losing a copy of, in v/hich he had written marginal notes, II. 170.
Executions, motives of Wakefield for witnessing, I. 309 .
number of, in London, 310 note.
crimes increased by the frequency of, 313 note.
~ instance of one for a trivial offence, 314.
feelings with which they should be viewed, 315
note. 11.246.
Extempore speaking, instance of Wakefield's failure in, 1.230.
Eye service, meaning of the scripture phrase of, I. 539.
Eyres, of Warrington, accuracy of his printing, 1. 16O.
F.
Farmer, rev. Dr. liberality of his character, I. go note.
friendly to Wakefield, 106, 176.
Fawkes, Mr. Francis, educated at Jesus College, I. 78. Fermented liquors, never used by Wakefield except medicinally,
II. 312.* Hartley's opinion of the injurious effects of,
ih. note. Fisher, Mr of Dorchester, kindness of, to Wakefield in his
imprisonment, II. 175. Fishing, an early amusement of Wakefield's, I. 87, 451. — — — in later life relinquished by him as cruel, II, 313. *
m INDEX.
Fishing, a favourite pleasure with men of contemplative raiiids, ib. note.
Fishwick, Mr. I. 427.
Fitness of things, unmeaningness of the phrase, T. 512, 514,
Flamstead, the astronomer^ educated at Jesus College, I. 75.
Flawford church demolished, II. 105 note.
Forster, rev. Dr. competitor with Wakefield for a prize- medal, I. 107.
merry passage respecting, IO9.
Foster, sir Michael, uprightness of as a judge, I. 26O.
Fothergil, a quaker, and controversial wriier on baptism, I. 433.
Fox, Charles James, forcible expression of on the subject of the slave-trade, I. 103.
pnmphiet en the test -laws commended by, 228.
eloquence of, in what re-pcct defective, 358.
edition of Lucretius dedicated to, II. 99.
corresponds with \Vakefield on subjects of ancient litera- ture, 1 50.
visits him in the King's Bench^ and promotes his sub-
scription, il'. 156. — — is visited by him on his removal from Dorchester gaol,
283.
Wakefields high opinion of him as a statesman, 300.
Frampton, Mr. one of the Dorset magistrates, II. 203. France, sanguinary decree of the national convention of, II. 4/. scenes of misery during the revolution in, ascribed to
the interference of England, 48.
__ eloquent comparison of to the Nile, ys.
. ■ — . — . to a man immured for a suc-
cession of years in a dungeon, 78 note. revolution in, a subject of joy to Wakefield, 318,*
Franklin, Dr. his sentiments of the practice of privateering,
I. 191. . .— — of impressing seaman, 304 note.
INDEX. 493
Franklin, Dr. his sentiments of penal laws, 314 note. Freedom of thinking and writing,
See farther Opinions, Press. Frend, Mr. ingenious reasonings of, on the word Elohim, in his Letters to Bishop Pretyman, I. 250 note.
his Letters, &c. cited 435 note.
prosecuted for a pamphlet entitled Peace and Union,
IL9.
Fugitives, French, ignominious condition of, I. 255,
Fuller, the historian, name given him by Warburton, I. 158.
G.
Gamaliel, conduct of to the primitive evangelists, ouglit to be imitated by Christian judges, H. 399.
Geddes, Dr. letter from to Wakefield in his imprison- ment, IL 257.
. Latin elegy on Wakefield by, cited, 335.
Gellius, Aulus, quoted, on silent admiration, I. 104 note.
. — on the mercenary character of De- mosthenes, 180 note.
Geometry, elements of, extremely easy, L 82.
eloquent passage in praise of, 103.
George IL aversion of, to religious persecution, I. 220.
Gibson, bishop, daughter of, to whom married,!. 57.
Gisborne, Dr. arguments of, against the slave trade, I. 103 note.
Gaols, how denominated by Johnson, II. 207.
improper places of confinement for men of educated
minds, 208, 41 7.
bewildered feelings of persons released from, 242, 2(50.
. solitary confinement in, repugnant to the nature of
man, 271.
I - idleness one of the crying sins of, 272.
4g4 INDEX.
Gaols, practice in, of loading the victims with heavy irons be- fore trial, inhuman and unneceisary, 2/5.
particoloured dress observed in, immoral, ib.
long confinement in, previous to trial, a serious injury,
276.
Godwin, rev. Mr. one of the trustees of the Warrington aca- demy, I. 211.
Goldsmith, distich from, on the value of little things to the promotion of learning, I. 155.
sublime simile by, vvrhence stolen, 34S.
Gore, Mr. of Liverpool, I. 211.
Gospel, superior theology and morality of, compared witW those of the Greeks and Romans, II. 23,
beauty of its siniilitudes, 44.
■ virtues and graces of, 112.
guilt of nominally professing, and practically con- temning it, 397.
Grace of the university senate at Cambridge, meaning of the
term, I. 150 note. Grafton, duke of, literary work ascribed to, I. 326. — munificent in his subscription to a publication of
Wakefield's, 356.
letter from, to Wakefield, bearing testimony to the
excellence of his character, II. 378.
Gray, Wakefield's edition of the poems of, I. 278, 528, 530, 533,534, 536, 541.
■ injustice of Dr. Johnson's strictures on, 486.
Greek and Roman authors. Selection from, projected by Wake- field, for the Use of Schools, I. 47 1.
Gregory, rev. Dr. sundry letters from Wakefield to, I. 387 et passim to the end of the volume.
Gretton, Mr. a candidate with Wakefield for prize-medals, I. 116, 119.
Grose, Mr. Justice, conduct of, in pronouncing judgment on Wakefield, 11.151.
INDEX. 495
Grotius, said to have believed in the continuance of the gift of tongues, I. 221.
H.
Hackney, dissenting college at, I. 333.
club at, II. 63.
, visit of Wakefield to his family there, previous to
his imprisonment at Dorchester, l62. Hales, educated at Oxford, I. 60. — — sermon by, on Enquiry and private Judgment, cited
121 note. — — industry of, in the search after truth, 237 note. , one of the greatest men of the age, 526. Halifax, rev. Dr. anecdote of, and Dr. Ogden, I. 97. Apology for the Liturgy and Clergy of the Church of
England ascribed to, 330. Hamilton, Dr. William, II. 293. Hamilton, Mr. printer, 11. 19O. Hardy, Mr. II. 39, 68. Hare, bishop, complains of the little encouragement given to
scriptural, compared with classical learning, I. 267 note. Harris, James, passage from the life of, applied to Wakefield,
II. 306 note. Hartley, David, character of his Observations on Man, I. 75. supposed falsely by bis biographer to have been well
affected to the church of England, 76. , emotion excited by the beauty of his portrait, 78.
. his idea of the efficacy of religious forms, II. 320
note
on the use of animal food and fermented liquors, 312.* Harvest, rev. George, oddity of his character, I. 53 to 58. Hayley, his poem on history commended, 1. 410.
4g5 I N U E X.
Hayley censures Wakefield's strictures on Cowper's versifica- tion, II. 94 note — Wakefield defended, gs note,
lines from, on hopeless captivity, 281.
Hebrew, use of points detrimental in acquiring, I. 100.
knowledge of, necessary to a right understanding of
the New Testament, il\ l84.
easy method of learning, 101 note, 528.
Jews not qualified to teach, i/:.
spoken by the Phenicians and Carthaginians, II. 345.
old Samaritan language precisely similar to, 350.
Herbert, lord, his life cited as an instance of interesting bio- graphy, I. 6.
Herman, arrogant and scurrilous in his criticisms, II. 439.
Herodotus quoted, on alphabetical writing, II. 349.
on the hieroglyphics of the Egyptians, 355.
Herring, archbishop, friendly conduct of, to Wakefield's fa- . ther, I. 15.
Hesiod, saying of, II. 420.
Hewet, rev. Dr. John, beheaded by Cromwel, I. 188,
Heywood, Mr. Samuel, of Nottingham, death of, singularly regretted, I. 2g6,555.
epitaph to his memory, composed by Wakefield, 2g8.
lleyne, professor, letters from, to Wakefield, II. 363, 364.
Hibbert, George, mentioned by Wakefield as having clainis on his gratitude, I. 2/0.
. unaccountably neglects him in his imprisonment,
271 note.
Hieroglyphics, II. 352, 355.
History, improper as an early study, I. 343.
ecclesiastical, neither a pleasurable nor profitable
study, .545.
Hogarth, motto to his plate of Credulity, Enthusiasm and Superstition, a genuine quotation, I. 244.
Hoghton, sir Henry, letter from, to Wakefield, 1. 21 7.
Holland, lord, visits Wakefield in the King's Bench, II. 150.
INDEX. 497
Holt, imprisoned for publishing a pamphlet, which Mr. Pitt
had countenanced and circulated, II. 433 note. Holy and holiness, I. 458, 460, 46Q. Holy spirit, what denoted by the phrase, I. 184 note, 467. Homer quoted, on the tribute of tears to the dead, I. 30, 298.
' ■ on rousing the mind, 80 note.
" on reluctant consent, 86.
■'" on the equipment of Patroclus, 15^, 384.
on love turned to hate, 252.
• on false accusation of the gods, 364.
on the union of things incongruous, 3/2.
scriptural phrase, of J he sun and moon standing still,
illustrated by passages from, II. 34 note.
poets to whom his talents were indebted, ib. note.
Homer, Mr. resigns his fellowship from motives of conscience, 1.94.
~ humorous incident respecting his name, Q5.
Honorati, a Cambridge term, the meaning of, I. ]03.
Hope, its animations necessary to literary labours, 1. 29I.
Horace quoted, on a too ardent pursuit of any thing, I. 34.
■ on the resemblance of the offspring to the pa-
rent, 46.
• in ridicule of oracles, 64.
on the gifts of labour, 86.
on the unwillingness of age to renounce what
it has learned in youth, 102.
■ on wit compared to a hone, 109.
on slander, 134.
• on envy, 139.
— • on undue preference of our own studies, 142. on the intemperate use of wine, 143.
■ on earl)' rising, 144.
on trivial spots in a fair reputation, 218.
on taking advantage of a favourable wind,
234 note.
VOL. ir. 2 k
408 INDEX.
Horace quoted, on the effect of bribes in corrupting the judg- ment, 286.
• • on assumed courage, 324.
— on human frailty, 355.
• on friendship, 51 6.
• on the difficulty of writing comedy, II. ipo.
■ on divine vengeance against corruption, 402.
— on the feelings of the virtuous under the
threats of the powerful, 405.
Horsley, bishop, enmity of, to heretics, I. 165.
• singular doctrines in a sermon by, 282 note.
• obliquity of mind displayed in the writings of, 285,
instance of the craft of, in controversy, 287.
Apology for the Liturgy and Clergy of the Church
of England said to be written by, 325.
Howard, Mr. sketch of his character, I. 245.
■ fortitude of, in examining prisons, compared wilh that of Wakefield, II. 281.
Hudibras, lines from, on the efficacy of church preferment, I. 174.
Hunter, rev. Thomas, passage from a sermon by, on the na- ture of death, II. 218 note.
Hyson-club, account of its members^ I. 132,
————— congratulatory epistle from, to Wakefield on his marriage, I89.
Ideas, those communicated in early life most durable, I. 85.
l5'<a.'Tijc, meaning of the term, I. 288 note.
Idler quoted, I. 146 note.
Immorality, nothing else disgraceful, I. 22.
Imprisonment. See Confinement, Criminals, Gaols.
INDEX. 499
Impromptu on heavy rains, I. 58 note. Income tax, II. 115.
Inspiration, Essay on, I. 233, 452, 464, 466. Isocrates quoted, on the superior authority of a virtuous life to an oath, I. 10,
J.
Jacobs, professor, letters from, to Wakefield, IT. 36/, 369,
371, 372, 374. Jackson, rev. Dr. affecting instance of his friendship for Wood-
deson, I. 46. Jackson, of Rossington, praised as a chronologer, I. ys. Jailors, cause of the severity of, II. 27s. James I. saying of, respecting the university of Cambridge, I.
80. Jebb, Dr. John, his account of a sermon of Law's, I. 93 note. for a short time was mathematical tutor to Wake-
fiekl, 113. falsely accused of seducing his pupil from ortho-
doxy, ih.
letters from, to Wakefield, 213, 415, 438.
preface to the Commentaries and Essays written by.
517 note.
favourite maxim of, II. 143,
■ passage from a sermon by, estimating the value of
talents and learning, 181. saying of, respecting Pitt, 434 note.
Jeffries, Rev. Dr. I. 59,
Jcfferies, Mr. of Dorchester, kindness of, to Wakefield in his
imprisonment, II. 175. Jesus, ceremony of bowing to the name of, I. 162. doctrine of the pre-existence of, questioned, 184 note.
ioo INDEX.
Jesus, benevolent pursuits of, II. ill.
Johnson, Mr. bookseller, prosecuted and convicted for pub- lishing a pamphlet, II. 123, 127.
singular declaration of the attorney general, on the
trial of, 128.
Johnson, Richard, head-master of Nottingham free-school, particulars respecting, I. 28.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, sentiments of, on the motives with which men commonly read, I. 157.
on the feelings with which executions
should be seen, 315 note.
on the severity of penal laws, 31 7. II.
277 note.
on minute details in writing, 201 note, injustice of his strictures on Gray, I. 486. his opinion of the learning of Pope, II.
87.
is at a loss how to account for the acri- mony of scholiasts, 438.
what deemed by him right, and what
wrong readings of commentators, 446,
remark of, on Dr. Bentley, 453.
Jortin, his fondness for Greek and Latin quotations, I, 3.
■ daughter of, to whom married, 65. • sketch of his character, 72 note.
■ an advocate for the exercise of private judgment, 121 note, 123 note.
fond of the study of ancient music, why, 254.
compares poverty in the republic of letters to the
plague in Constantinople, 2gO note. doubts of the Trinity, yet subscribes to the articles of
the church of England, 379. quoted, II. \Q, 121, note 320, on a timorous conceal-
ment of religious sentiments, II. 315.* Joseph and his brethren, excellence of the story of. II. 235.
INDEX. 501
Journe)', account of one from London to Nottingham per- formed by Wakefield on foot, I. 333 note. Judges, origin of the severity of, II. 2/8. heathen example recommended to the imitation of,
399- Jury, special, customary mode of selecting, in state trials, in-
juiiovis to the accused, II. 134.
Justice, instance of the expensiveness of the forms of, II. 126".
Justices. See Magistrates.
Juvenal quoted, on the superiority of virtue to ancestry, I. 22
note.
on conscientiousness in giving evidence, 125.
. on the great praise and little profit of probity,
234.
. on the violation of law by its guardians, 204.
. on the different fate attending the same crime.
II. 67. . imitation of the first satire of, 223, 225, 424.
— an ineligible author for young persons, with-
out selection, 234.
K.
Kellar, an edition of Justin Martyr's Dialogues by, from the papers of Dr. Ashton, 1. 6q. *
Kenyon, lord, II. 127, 128.
Kennicot, rev. Dr. praises Jackson as a chronologer, I. 75.
Kentish, Mr. II. 289.
Kett, rev. Mr. II. 98 note.
Kipling, rev. Dr. prevents a work of Wakefield's being printed at the Cambridge press, II. Q.
'■ ■• one of the most active agents in the prose-
cution of Mr. Trend, ib.
502 INDEX.
KippiSj rev. Dr. I. 339.
Knowledge, sum total of, less now than it has been for two
centuries, I. 505. Knox, rev. Dr. french extract from his Treatise on Education,
I. 34. ■ chargeable with undue preference of his own, and dis-
paraging the studies of others, 1-13. — — — dictatorial on subjects which he does not understand.
147.
misrepresents the university of Cambridge, 149.
his Treatise on Education commended, 144, 472.
Kosciusko, severity of his confinement, II. 243.
L.
Lactantius quoted, on the practice of brotherly love, from the
common origin of the human race, I. 25(5. La Fayette, severity of his conlinement, II. 243. Landatf, bishop, of. See Watson.
Languages, variety of, acquired by Wakefield, I. 236. II. 459. Lardner, his Letter on the Logos cited, I. 468.
writes against Woolston, but disapproves of his pro- secution, 11. 36.
Law, bishop, account of a sermon by, on Liberty of Con- science, I. 93 note.
excellence of his elocution at a very advanced period of
life, 94.
— — letters to and from, on Wakefield's translation of the New lestament, 439, 445, 4^g.
his discourses, on the Nature and End of Death, &c.
cited, II. 217,305* note.
Law, William, tendency of his Address to the Clergy, I. 417. Law, profession of, why not adopted by Wakefield, 1. 484.
INDEX. 503
Laws, penal J necessity of a reform in the English code of, I.
309.
ensnaring nature of, 311 note,'
crimes increased by the severity and number of,
313 note, 314 note, II. 145, 277.
defect in the administration of, I. 362 note.
frequent infliction of, a sign of the instability of
a state, II. 4ig. laws without penalties better kept than laws with
extreme punishment, I. 315 note. Laws respecting property violated by an act of parliament,
I. 26-4. Learning, classical, greatly inferior to mathematical, I. 103, • greatly superior to scriptural for worldly
advancement, 267 note. absurdity of making subscription to ar-
ticles of faith necessary in the teachers of, 372. is at a low ebb, and seems still declining.
505.
imagination never the essential compa- nion of, 537.
comfort afforded by under the vicissitudes
of life, II. 193, 222.
learning and morality intimately connected, 298,
311. Le Clerc, excellence of a chapter in his Silvae Philologicae,
n, 451, Lectures, inutility of, in education, I. 3^1, 345 note. ■ ' precomposed ones prejudicial and ruinous, 3-13.
on the Greek Testament, 427.
on Virgil, II. 259, 263, 283.
Leisure, the knoviring how to employ it, one of the advantages
of education, I. 3i5, Leland, virtue of charity described by, I. 74 note. Letter, singular one, of a French master, I. 255,
504 INDEX.
Letter-writing, the task of, disagreeable to Wakefield, II. 184
note. Lewis, Dr. I. 259. Lewis, John. See Anecdotes.
Lexicon, projected edition of Hederic's, II. 20g, 215. ■ plan of a scriptural one, 237-
Lilly, William, his Life cited as an instance of interesting
biography, I. 6. Lindsay, Rev. James, character of Wakefield by, II, 327. Lindsey, Rev.T. high character of Mr.Tyrwhit in a work by,
I. 496. • his exemplary life, II. 1Q6.
Lister, Dr. II. 291. Literature. See Learning.
, surest way of attaining eminence in, I. 141 note.
Littleton, sir Edward, I. 176.
Liverpool, little esteem of the clergy in the town of, I. l/S.
described as the headquarters of the slave-trade,
193.
Wakefield unsuccessful in establishing a school
there, 201. Locke, John, educated at Oxford, I. 60. • censures an undue partiality to our own studies,
142 note. _ accounts for the prevalence of fashionable opi-
nions, 181 note, .. what deemed by him the proper business of edu-
cation, 344 note.
considered as an unitarian, II. 108 note.
: mentions a society singularly philanthropic in its
rules, 407- Lowtb, bishop, indebted to Mede for his corrections of the
9th chapter of Isaiah, I. 24. » character of his Prselectiones, 547-
Lucretius quoted, on the boundless nature of man's desires, 1.18.
INDEX. 505
Lucretius quoted on modest emulation, 73.
Wakefield's edition of, II. gd, 188.
manuscript copies of, 97-
Lyons, his Hebrew grammar censured, I. 100. Lyttleton, lord, blames the customary mode of choosing special juries, II. 134 note.
M.
Madan, his sentiments on crimes and punishments combated,
I. 313 note. ■ his Thelypthora cited, 412.
Maddock, rev. Mr. disputation of, with Wakefield on the
doctrines of the church, I. 179. Magistrates, of the county of Dorset, 11. I68, 170.
— negligence of in superintending prisons, 27O.
severity of, to what ascribable, 278.
Mainwaring, Mr. I. 176, 373. Man, Paine's Rights of, II. 18.
zeal of Wakefield for the equality and rights of, 25.
Marcellinus, Ammianus, quoted, I. 90note. l65 note. II. 355. Markland, commended for his temper as a critic, IJ.438.
,, for his patient industry, 446.
Marsden, rev. Mr. scholarship in Jesus College founded by,
I. 62. Martial quoted, on absurd ceremonies, I. 164. Martin, rev. Mr. letter from Wakefield to, on the death of his
wife, I. 388. Masclef, Hebrew grammar by, commended, I. 100, 388. Mason, his edition of Gray, I. 528, 531.
distich from on religious gloom, II. 306.*
Mathematics, progeny of the northern counties the greatest proficients in, I. 83.
506 INDEX.
Mathematics, early pursuit of, commonly relinquished in after
life, 147- — See farther Geometry. Maty, Mr, I. 512. Meals, frequent ones with moderation beneficial to health, I.
154.
tea in the afternoon a light and wholesome one, ib.
Medals, prize, at Cambridge, I.90, 10/, 110, 116,239.
■ partiality in the adjudicators of, criminal, 92.
!Mede, Joseph. See Lowth .
• persuasion explained by, I. 131 .
Melancthon, instance of the honour and disinterestedness of, II.
121 note. Memory, use of, in forming the mind, 1.85.
• singular retentiveness of Wakefield's, II. 45g.
Metaphysics, improper as an early study, I. 82, 343. Middleton, Dr. value ascribed by, to the discovery of every
kind of truth, II. 20 note. Milner, Mr. college tutor, inactivity of, I. 65 .
• a skilful botanist, ib.
Milner, rev. Dr. commended as a mathematician, I. 136.
. theological opinions of, at variance with his conduct,
137. ■ ■ importunes Wakefield to write to him, and never an-
swers his letter, 182. prevents a work of Wakefield's from being printed at
the Cambridge press, II. 9. Milton, lines from, on self esteem, I. 8.
_ , on apostacy, 238.
. on firmness of mind, II. 3.
. on the triumph of virtue, 161,
■ deterred from entering the church by a dislike to sub-
scription, I. 122 note.
liberal conduct of Charles II. to, II. 136.
in the latter period of his life observed no religious
forrasj 319>
INDEX. 507
Miltcn, charged with disparaging opinions of the female sex,
308.* Mirabeau, his opinion of the English from the number of exe- cutions among them, I. 310 note. Money the root of all evil. See Preferment. Montesquieu, sentiments of, respecting penal laws, I. 314.
note Morals, science of, improper as an early study, I. 3'i3. Moral writings, why disregarded by Wakefield, I. 512, 514, More, sir Thomas, magnanimity of the conduct of, II. 132
note. Morhoff; his chapter de Conversatione erudlla commended,
II. 443. Mosaic dispensation, opinions of Wakefield respecting, 1.397,
402, 411,431,470. II. 23 note, 28 note. Mosheim, character of his ecclesiastical histor}/-, I. 545. Mounsey, Mr. 1.88, 137. Murderers, instance of one acquitted in consequence of long
imprisonment before trial, I. 303 note. should be subjected to humane discipline, not cut
off by the executioner, II. 145, 3C)2.
N.
Najari, characters in which the languages of India were first
written so called, II. 300 note. Nevile, Mr. passage in his imitation of Horace descriptive of
himself, I, 79- interests himself for Wakefield on the question of his
appointment to Brewood school, 176. Newcastle, duke of, trait of his character, I. 14. . prize medal given by, IO6.
508 INDEX.
New Testament, Wakefield's Translation of, I. 355, 4:15, 445, 449.
Newton, bishop, his Life of Milton cited, II. 3 19 note.
Newton, Dr. character of his work on university education, I. 157 note.
Newton, sir Isaac, deemed an unitarian, II. 108 note.
■ the least disputatious person that has yet existed,
I87.
Night-cap, theatrical anecdote of one, I. 54,
Noctes Carcerariae, II. 240.
Norfolk, dialect of the inhabitants of, similar to the language of the Danes, I. 250 note.
Nottingham, corporation of. See Corporation.
contribution of certain inhabitants of to Wake- field's subscription, II. 16O,
Nunnery, the antechapel of Jesus College originally one, I. jg.
O.
Oaths, inferior in authority to a virtuous life, I. 10. Obi, name given to an affection with which the blacks In Ja- maica are possessed, I. 296 note. Ode of Horace translated, I, 21.
Latin, on the RadclifFe Library, 51.
Ogden, pointedness of his satire on the desires of man, I, 19 note.
■ striking resemblance of his person, manner and charac- ter of composition, Q5.
- saying of the duke of Newcastle respecting, 96. » his epicurism, Q7 note.
his sentiments of the slave trade as practised by the
English, 305.
INDEX. 509
Olympiads, the Greeks had no intelligence prior to, II, 102
note. Opinions, not subject to the jurisdiction of human ordinances,
II. 40, 389. ■ gentleness and courtesy recommended in dissenting
from those of others, or advancing our own, 1 86. • • — the publication of, against defective institutions, a
duty, 394.
if erroneous cannot injure a virtuous governor, 395.
molestation of the peaceful propagation of, highly
criminal, 396. instances of princes allowing the free utterance of.
405.
sentiments of great and good men on the freedom
of, 407. religious opinions of Wakefield, I, 384 note, dQ2f
11.316,305.*
■ his religious and political opinions hindrances to his
o
advancement, 318. * Optimes, a university term, meaning of, I. 105 note. Original sin. See Depravation. Ordination of Wakefield, I. 120. Ovid quoted, on the superior value of virtue to ancestry, I. 22.
note
~ on playful licence to youth, 33.
■ on a raven changed from black to white, 56.
on friendship, 247.
Owen, rev, Mr. merit of his writings, I. 167. Oxford, university of, accused by Wakefield of indolence and degeneracy, I. 5g, 60.
supposed by his editors to be recovering its character,
ib, note.
— — absurdity of some of its practices, 149. — — press belonging to, 552.
510 INDEX.
Oxford, advantage of the library of, lessened by a defective
regulation, II. 98 note. Wakefield's visit to, ib.
P.
Paley, distinction by, between blame and slander, I. 2 note.
opinion of, on creeds and confessions, 123 note.
accused of shuffling on this subject in his Moral Phi:
losophy, 129 — Wakefield's character of that work, ii. note.
. reprobates the slave-trade, 303.
cited on the loss of character that attaches to imprison-
ment, II. 277 note. Palmer, rev. T. F. testimony of Wakefield to his talents and
character, II. 68.
dies at Guam, ib. note.
Parody of Hamlet's soliloquy on death, I. 207.
Parkhouse, rev. Mr. writes against Priestley and Wakefield, I.
249.
Parr, rev. Dr. sketch of the character of Jortin by, I. 72 note.
letter from to Wakefield in his imprisonment, II. 254.
on the death of Wakefield, 321.
on his literary character, 437, 451.
Paul, father, accused before the inquisition on the subject of the Trinity, I. 251 note.
Pearce, rev. Dr. active in the persecution of Mr. Frend, I. 133.
impudent epistle from, to W^akefield, II. 387-
Percy, bishop of Dromore, in early life member of an associ- ation for a reform of the church of England, I. 127 note. -
Persius quoted, 1.114, 181.
INDEX. 511
Persuasion, meaning of, I. 131.
Pett, long duration of a ship built by, II. 104 note.
Pett, Dr. letter by, on the last illness of "Wakefield, II. 289.
Philip II, of Spain, releases a man from prison condemned for animadversions on his government, II. 405. ,
Phillips, Mr. bookseller, I. I89.
Philosophy, declining state of mathematical, I. 505.
Pickthal, rev. Isaac, character of as a schoolmaster, I. 31.
Pictures, in Jesus College, Cambridge, 1.65, 66,67.
. delightful on"; of Hartley, prefixed to his Observa- tions on Man, 78.
Pindar quoted, I. 7^:- 130.
Pindar, Mr. humorous incident respecting his name, I. Q5.
Uitrrog, no English word equivalent to, 1.424.
Pitt, Mr. Morton, conduct of as a justice of peace, II. 203* Pitt, Mr. commended for his conduct to Dr. Pretyman, I.
134.
his sincerity on the subject of the slave-trade ques- tioned, 197-
. character of his eloquence, 358, 505.
. profligacy of his political character, 360.
. — unamiableness of his manners, 506, II. 300 note.
features of his late administration, 47, 131, 257,
319,* 412.
a work on religion dedicated to him, 427 note.
defended by Mr. Wilberforce against the charge of
feasting on a fast -day, 428.
saying of Jebb respecting him, 434.
fights a duel on a Sund?y, id.
Plato quoted, on the origin of letters, II. 359 ^^ie. Pliny asserts the use of letters to have been eternal, 358. Plumptree, Mr. M. P. instance of his regard for Wakefield's
father, I. 17. Plutarch quoted on the origin of letters, II. 359 note. Poetry, "Wakefield not fond of dramatic, I. 424. . fastidious in bis taste respecting every species of, 529.
512 INDEX.
Polyglott, I. 497.
Pomfret, distich from on female softness, I. 1 93,
Pope, distich from, applied to Horace, I. 144.
lines from on the inspiration of places where men of
eminence have resided, 146.
indebted for the beauty of a line in his Essay on Man to
lord Roscommon, 188.
character of as a poet, II. 54.
— — anecdotes of, 55 note.
■ observations on, 5g.
incompetency of his learning for the task of translating
Homer, 86, 89 note.
character of his translation, 90.
his obligations to Dryden, 92.
Porson, professor, his eminence among his schoolfellows, L 156.
his letters to archdeacon Travis commended, 351.
•■ placed by Dr. Parr in the highest class of critics, II.
437, 444.
Porteus, bishop, in early life belonged to an association for a reform of the church of England, I. 127 note.
professions of esteem to Wakefield and desire of serv- ing him, at variance with his conduct, I. 162, IO8, 248, 493.
' censured by Wakefield, in the opinion of his editors,
too harshly, 248 note.
' his sentiments of the slave-trade, 194 note, 30/ note.
308 note.
Potter, archbishop, faults of his Latin productions^ to what owing, II. 449.
Poverty, unfavourable to learning, I. 399.
Powel, sermon by, in defence of subscription to articles of reli- gion, I. 3/7,-381.
Preaching, extempore mode of, recommended, I. igg.
• expounding th« scriptures, an edifying part of, 200
note.
INDEX. 513
Preacliing, occasional of Wakefield after quitting Liverpool,
276.
• predilection of Wakefield for, 5l6^
Preferment, expectation of, ruinous to morals, I. ipnote, 12/,
135,173,179,238. Press, arguments in favour of the unrestrained freedom of,
11. 42.
benefit resulting from the freedom of, under a generous
political system, 45.
Pretyman, bishop, when at college, a zealous friend to Wake- field, I. 111. ■ vindicated from the charge of servility, 133.
liberal in professions of service, and negligent in per- forming them, 103, 25-1.
■ ■ letters from, cited in proof of the versatility of his
friendship, II. 379 to 384. Pridden, rev. John, respecting the family of Cranmer, I. 67,
note. Pride, spiritual, I. 418. Priestley, Dr. one of the tutors of the Warrington Academy,
I. 227.
— ^— — — his tract on the Mosaic institutions, cited 398 note.
his Essay on the Perpetuity of the Jewish Ritual.
cited 470 note. his remarks on the Monthly Pevievv of the Let-
ters to Horsley, incomparably satirical, 502. Print of Timothy Bennet, shoemaker, I. 258. Prisoners of war, inhumanity with which they are treated, I.
190. Prisons. See Gaols.
Privateering, practice of. condemned, I. I9I. — instance of a lady a convert to it's iniquity by a
sermon, 193. Proof sheets ought to be sent free of postage, I. 280.
VOL. II. 2 L
514 INDEX.
Prussia, anecdote of the lale king of. I. 324. Punishments. See Criminals, Death, Imprisonment, Laws.
Q.
Quakers, I. 436.
Quintilian, a favourite author with Wakefield, I. 117, II. 234.
. quoted, on the obligations of Cicero to Demos- thenes, I. 347 note.
the perusal of the Proaemium to his Institutes; an
incentive to religious gratitude, 39O.
Quotations, Greek and Latin, the use of in composition vindi- cated, I. 3.
Wakefield, singularly apt at, II, 459.
R.
Rain, according to the Mosaic history not known before the flood, 1.431.
Rapin, error of, respecting Cranmer, I. 67.
Rathbone, Mr, of Liverpool, I. 179, 49O.
Reading, late at night, prejudicial to health, I. 527.
" Wakefield accustomed to read with a pencil in his
hand, II. 228.— See farther Books,
Reason, an improper term when opposed to revelation, 1. 3^4.
■ — obligations of to religion, II. 24.
Reformation, how to be effected, 1.317, II. 394.
• liberal ideas of Wakefield respecting ecclesiasti- cal, II. 16.
INDEX. 515
Religion, pure, defined, I. 182 note.
natural, a dangerous and indiscriminate expression,
392.
prosecution of its adversaries injurious to it's cause.
11. 37. spirit of, inimical to peisecution, 44.
Rennell, rev. Dr. mentioned as a college friend of Wakefield's, I. 90.
■ singular commendation by, of George III.
11.431 note.
Revelation, no foundation anywhere else for virtue and im- mortality, I. 512.
little attention paid to, by modern philosophers,
11.21.
Review, projected one by Wakefield, I. 511.
Reviewers, depravity of some, I. 253.
castigated by Wakefield, 478.
no thinking being ought to be disturbed by their
injudicious censures, 482.
Richmond, rev. Mr. of Dorchester, II. 173.
Roscoe, lines from, on the slave-trade, I. 308.
Royal George, feelings of Wakefield on reading an account of the loss of, I. 476.
Royal Sovereign, long duration of that ship, II. 104 note.
S.
Saint Mary's, Cambridge, little use of the sermons preached at,
I 93, 98.
proposal to abolish them, 150,
Saint Matthew, Wakefield's Translation of and Commentary
on, I. 233, 235, 477, 478, 480, 483.
516 INDEX.
Satirists, freedom of political animadversion vindicated by the practice of, II. 40g.
Savage, Life of, by Johnson, censured, I. 541.
Scliool-masie-s, evils that flow to society from the prevalence of bad on«s, I. 35.
— appointment of proper ones, worthy the atten- tion lif states, 37.
' singular conduct and stjle of one, 40, 41 note.
Schools, severity of discipline in, reprehended, I. 25, 26, 218, IL 310.
long confinement in, prejudical to the health and ta- lent; of youth, 1.32,
■ ■ should be houses of pleasure not of bondage, ib. note.
those of the. south of England, all inferior to Eton, 155.
time usually spent in, the most iniportant of life, 351 .
■ too much in a little time, generally proposed to be
done in, 352. : advantage of great public ones, IT. 441, 419.
Science, immensity of it's nature,. I. 354.
Scotland, conduct of the judicature of to the partisans of re- form in 17Q4, II. 67.
Scott, sir John, charged with illiberality and indecorum on the trial of Mr. Cuthell, II. 112 note.
singular declaration of on the trial of Mr.
John?on, 128.
Letter by Wakefield to, ib.
his prosecution of Wakefield at variance with
the supposed urbanity of his character, 129, 4j2.
Scraping of a proctor, practical example of it's meaning, I.f)4.
Scripture Lexicon, object of one, intended to have been exe- cuted by Wakefield, II. 237.
Scriptures, little encouragement given to the critical study of, L 267, II. 7.
-" ignorance of the original language of, in religious
INDEX. 517
teachers, the chief obstacle to uniformity of religious senti- ments, I. 293, II. 238.
Scriptures, should be studied and discussed like ordinary writ- ings, 1.294. 341, II. 7.
are the only foundation for virtue and immortality,
I. 512, 514.
didactic and devotional parts of, superior to any
composition of the moderns, II. 23 note.
are elegant stores of philological amusement, 192
Seeker, his inquisitorial spirit after his conformity, I. 169 note.
his indignation when a dissenter, on being supposed
capable of conformity, 171 .
Self-knowledge, mischiefs resulting from the want of, I. 38.
Self- reverence, I. 124, 334, 11.414.
Sermons, composition and delivery of Wakefield's, I. 199.
many waste more time in picking than they would in
writing one, I, 396.
Seward, miss, character of, as a poet, 1. 453 .
Sex, female, praised for superior softness and sensibility, I.
193.
. Wakefield's high opinion of, 529, II. 173, 308.*
Shakespeare, passages of, illustrated, I. 539.
Sheldon, rev. Dr. letter from Chillingworth to, I. 172 note.
Shepherd, rev. Mr. 173, 228.
Silva Critica, I. 292, 353, 522, II. 6, 11.
Simile. See Claudian.
Slaves, cruelty of the traffic in, I. I94.
, conduct of the house of commons in not abolishing the
traffic in, reprehended, I96. . arguments in favour of the traffic overturned, 302, 303,
305. .ii treated worse in the English colonies, than in any other
part of the globe, 305 note.
518 INDEX.
Slaves, mild treatment of^jn the Spanish settlement of the Ha-
vannah, 308 note. the English will never prosper as a nation till the traf- fic in be abolished, 500. Slaves, Scythian, singular mode, when in revolt, by whicb
they were brought to submission, I. 322. Smalridge, bishop, his fear of an examination into the truth
of some of the articles of the church, I. I2d note. Smith, rev. Dr. prize medals given by, at Cambridge, I. 118. Social intercourse, highly valued by Wakefield, I. 87, II. 203-,
304, 313.* Societies (weekly) at Warrington, 1.229,230.
at Nottingham, 290.
1 at Hackney, II, 63.
Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, probable motives
of, in prosecuting the publisher of the Age of Reason,
II. 39. Socrates, ascribes all human knowledge to reminiscence, II.
361 note. -^— — saying of on freedom of speech, 40/. Solitude, grand idea of Wakefield's on the subject, II. 319
note. Sophocles quoted, on the influence of time, I. 281. South, rev. Dr. an advocate for the lenient treatment of youth,
1.26. Spirit of God, meaning of, in Scripture, I. 184 note, 467. Spratt, bishop, his Life of Cowley quoted, I. xvi. II. 302. Stafford, rev. Mr. letters to and from on the subject of Brewood
school, I. 371, 374, 375. Statham, rev. Mr. of Nottingham, I. 171. Statius, old manuscript of, II. I89. Sterne, Lawrence, educated at Jesus College, I. 78. Studies, folly of extolling our own, and disparaging those of
others, I. 142.
INDEX. 519
Studies^ should be prosecuted from principle, not as an amuse- ment, 15/.
•■ why pursued so zealously by Wakefield, II. 222.
Subscription to articles of the church of England reprehended, I. 121, 172 note, 3S1, II. 22 note.
instances of objections to in clergymen, I. II6,
121 note, 122 note, 123 note, 105.
■ — instances oi dissenting ministers complying with.
169, 172 note, 204, 207. impossibility of such proselytes to, being honest
men, 206. sermon and sophisms in defence of, 377 •
Subscription, pecuniary, in favour of Wakefi'ld, II. 155. Suetonius cited, on occasion of ill-tmied congraiulations, 1. 190. Sun and moon, supposed miracle of their standing still ex-
plained, 1.403. II. 31 note. Sutton, bishop, an acquaintance of Wakefield's at college, I.
139, II. 386. .. on his trial excuses himself from bearing testimony to
his character, II. 385. Symonds, rev. Dr. treated scurrilously by the Apologist for
the Liturgy and Clergy of the church of England, I. 326.
T.
Tacitus quoted, on freedom of thinking and speaking, I. 347. II. 407.
■ on the literary advantages derived from the
Greeks by the Romans, 344.
Talents, disparagement of those we possess an act of ingrati- tude to 'he giver, I, SQ, 182 nute.
'- . men of great, less successful in the world than mea
of raodeiate, why, 55Q.
520 INDEX.
Talents, valuable only as promoting benevolence and virtue^.
II. 180. Taylor, rev. Dr. John, tutor of Warrington academy, 1.226.
• his latinity why faulty, II. 44g.
Tea, as an afternoon meal, light and wholesome, I, 154. -'— a favourite beverage with Wakefield, 11. ol3.'^'
Johnson's intemperate fondness for, il-.
Temper, irritability of Wakefield's in youth, conquered in at'ler
life, II. 303. Terence quoted, on mild treatment of childrc-n, I. 26.
on asperity in reply to as^perity, 32/.
Test Act, conduct of a prime-minister and a prelate on the question of the repeal of, I. Sip.
outciy against the dissenters in consequence of their
application to parliament on the subject, 330. publications by Wakefield on the repeal of, 318, 332,
553, Tenth, a divinity so called, said to have been the inventor of
letters, II. 359- Thefts, more committed in England than in all other nations
together, I. 314 note. Theocritus quoted, on the alliance of virtue and learning, I. 3Q. Theognis quoted, on the preference of virtue to the gifts of
fortune, I. 8. Theological Repository, contributions of Wakefield to, I. 519- Theology, not suited to the taste of modern times, I 444. works in, planned by Wakefield, but not executed,
492, 495, U. 236, 237. Thessalonians, new Translation of the First Epistle to, I. 232,
438. Thirlby, rev. Dr. Styan, character of, as a critic, I. 70. his opposition to Bentley one of three follies of which
he is said to have repented, 71- Thomas, bishop of Lincoln, his singular love of duplicity,
1.15.
INDEX. 521
Thomson, lines from, on silent contemplation of the Deity, I. 104.
on thosewho redress thegrievancesofprisons, II. 280.
Tiberius, instance of his ready wit, I. IQO note.
■ • an advocate for freedom of thinking and speaking, II. 406.
Time, value of a methodical distribution of, II. 298 note.
Timoleon, an advocate for freedom of speech in the meanest citizen, II. 406.
Tongues, miraculous gift of, instances of belief in its continu- ance, I. 221.
Toulmin, Mr. II. 287.
Toup, Mr. his latinity why faulty, II. 449.
Tragedies, selection of Greek, II, 53.
Translation, advice respecting, I. 424.
a difficult department of literature, II. 190.
Trinity. See Clergy, Elohim.
Tripos, explanation of the term as used at Cambridge, I. 105 note.
Troy, Wakefield's Letter to Bryant on the Siege of, II. 101.
True -Briton, instance of the wilful misrepresentations of, II. 161.
Truth, value of every kind of, II. 20 note.
. • discussion and enquiry favourable to, 42.
. mental and verbal defined, 133.
is ever inimical to force, 422.
Tuition. See Education, Schools.
Tuscany, criminal code of the duke of, II. 14(5,
Tutor, office of, its dignity and usefulness, I. 27'4.
gratitude due to one from his pupil, 275 note.
character of Wakefield in the office of, II. 306,
Tylden,Mr. refuses a living from scruples of conscience, I. 116. Tyrwhit, Mr. falsely accused of seducing Wakefield from or- thodoxy, I. 113.
522 INDEX.
Tyrwhit, Mr. resigns his fellowsliip from scruples of con- science, 116'.
extract of a letter from Wakefield to, 176.
munificent in his subscription to a publication of
Wakefield's, 356.
character of, for judgment and learning, 484.
■ prints at his own expense the fourth part of Wake- field';, Silva Critica, II. 11.
probable motives of his conduct in withholding his
friendship from Wakefield during his troubles, 12.
U.
Unitarians misrepresented by Mr. Wilberforce as the allies of
sceptics, II. 108 note. — — — Wakefield's opinions most consonant to theirs, II.
21, 317.
V.
Vatican library, ignorance of the keeper of, respecting tlic
English universities, I. 67. Vengeance of God, danger of, from the sins of the nation, I.
309, 382, 500. II. 16. 401. Ventriloquist, account of one, I. 294. name given to the practicers of this art by the
ancients, 295 note. Verses on a Cat sleeping in Chapel, I. 44.
, copy of, on equality in the grave, 138 note.
Vince, rev. Mr. high commendation of, I. 137.
INDEX. 523
Virgil quoted; on the memorial of those who prosecute the
useful arts, I. 17.
I on friendship, 47, 224.
. on the force of time, 56.
on the shield of iEneas, 71-
on disappointed wishes, QO.
on a day decisive of the fate of an individual, 102.
on the agreeable remembrance of our early
days, 145.
. on the force of early habits, 181.
on the effect of fear, 20g.
on confusion in an orator, 230.
. ■ . on eager and silent expectation, 263.
, on the difficulties that lie in the way of the
journey of life, 277-
on the course of nature inverted^ 292 note.
. on national alarms, 330.
. on the cry of war, 33 1 .
. on change of scene, 332.
■ ' ■ on too early cultivation, 343.
. on resistance of profligate rulers, 360.
on the monster Polypherae, 36 1.
on youth and age, 406.
on fame, 11.43.
Virtue preferable to the gifts of fortune, I. 9 note. to ancestry, 22.
nothing else honourable, ib.
no foundatidti for, but in revelation, 512, II. 459.
Visitors, Wakefield never denied himself to any, of whatever rank or calling, II. 30.9* note.
524 INDKX.
W.
Wake, Kydd, confined five years in a solitary cell, II. 435 note. Wakefield, George, father of Gilbert, his education, I 12. — becomes curate of St Mary's, Nottingham, 13.
is inducted to the rectory of St. Nicolas, 14.
presented to the rectory of Claypole, ly.
to the vicarage of Kingston and chapelry of Rich- mond, 18, 34.
overlooked by the king, 19.
beloved by his parishioners, 20.
— • epitaph to his memory, ih.
— his talent for poetry, 21.
Wakefield, Gilbert, his motives for writing his life, I. 1, 5, 7.
when and where born, 11.
— — honourable ancestry of his grandmother, ih.
• family of his mother, 12.
account of his father. See the preceding article.
. gravity of his disposition and early love of learning,
23, 99.
begins Latin in the free-school at Nottingham un-
der an indolent and churlish master, 24.
exchanges Nottingham school for Wilford, 30.
accompanies his father to Richmond, and begins
Greek under another ignorant mr^ster, 35. .. is transferred to the more auspicious tuition of Mr.
Wooddeson, 41. is admitted to a scholarship in Jesus college, Cam-
bridge, 61.
dislikes the lectures on algebra and logic, 82, 111.
' is enamoured of the classics, 83.
INDEX. 525
Wakefield, his great love of amusement and exercise, 87,405, 525.
alienating effect of the frankness of his disposi- tion, 88.
is a candidate for prize medals, pi, 101, ll6, 210.
begins the study of Hebrew^, 100.
i. takes his bachelor's degree, 102.
obtains a fellowship, 1 12.
commences author, 115.
-— is ordained a deacon, 120.
. dislikes the requisition of subscription, but is in-
duced by sophistry to a temporary acquiescence, 121.
is admitted a member of the Hyson Club, 132.
• moralizes on the elevation of his friends and his
own indigent situation, 138, l6g.
advertises for a curacy, 141.
■ settles at Stockport, 159.
becomes acquainted with bishop Porteus, l62.
solicits the office of undcrmaster in Brewood
school, and finally rejects it from motives of conscience, 175,371,375.
goes as a curate to Liverpool, 178.
resolves to quit the church, 185.
marries, 187-
— takes his name from the boards of his college, 201 .
removes to Warrington as classical tutor of an aca-
demy there, 211.
begins his theological career as an author, 232.
rapidity with which he composed, 23 1, II. 448, 462.
— variety of languages acquired by him, I. 236.
his acquaintance with Howard, 244,
removes to Bramcote, and attempts to procure pu-
pils, 247. ■ publishes his Enquiry into the Opinions of the early
Christian Writers, 249, '^99-
526 INDEX.
Wakefield, causes to which he attributes the cool reception of
his works, 252, 290.
-i failing in procuring pnpils at Richmond, returns to
Nottingham, 257, 507,513. ■ ■■ relinquishes his theological and resumes with ar-
dour his classical studies, 266.
is elected a member of the Literary and Philosophi- cal Society of Manchester, 269.
begins to succeed in his office of tuition, 2/0.
-^— — his studies interrupted by severe illness, 277, 549,
■ publishes an edition of Gray, and the Georgics of Virgil, 278, 528 to 542.
■ his Four Marks of Antichrist, 288.
his Remarks on the internal Evidence of the Chris-
tian Religion, 29 1. ■ first part of his Silva Critica, 292.
' amuses himself with translating the Odes of Horace,
296, II. 61.
neglects no opportunity of attending capital punish-
ments, why, 309. publishes an Address to the Inhabitants of Notting-
ham on the Test Laws, 318.
■ castigates the author of An Apology for the Liturgy,
&c. 327. ■ publishes a pamplet in vindication of the claims of
the dissenters, 332. is chosen classical tutor of a dissenting college at
Hackney, 333.
instance of the great liberality of his mind, 335.
.. is dissatisfied with his tutorship, from the defects
of the institution, 337- testimony of the grateful attachment of his pupils,
339 note.
. second part of his Silva Critica, 353. his Translation of the New Testament, 355,
INDEX. 527
Wakefield, publishes a pamphlet on Religious Worship, 356.
, attends a debate in the honse of commons, 35/-
>- third, fourth, and fifth parts of his Silva Critica,
II. 6,8, 11.
. publishes his first political pamphlet, 13.
— writes an answer to Paines Age of Reason, but
reprobates the prosecution of that work, 20, 28, 40.
publishes another political pamphlet, 47-
his editions of Horace and Virgii, 50, 51.
— his selection of Greek Tragedies, 53.
his projected edition of Pope's works, 54.
• his Observations on Pope, dQ.
his Poetical Translations, 6l.
his edition of Bion and Moschus, 62.
replies to a pamplet of Burke's, 70.
his Pope's Homer, 81.
his Lucretius, q6.
his Answer to Bryant, 101.
his Answer to Wilberforce, lOp.
his Reply to Bishop Watson's Address, ll6.
liberality of his conduct on the prosecution of the
publisher of his Reply, 125.
account of his own prosecution, 129.
is committed to the King's Bench, i47.
sentenced to two years confinement in Dorchester
gaol, 154.
• subscription raised for him by his friends, 156.
■ arrives at Dorchester, l63.
his family not permitted to reside with him, 170.
employment of his time in his imprisonment, 1 74,
189,213,225,237,240. — humanity of his conduct to the prisoners, ] /6, l/Q,
180 note, 242, 247.
conduct of his gaoler to him, 200.
— death of his mother, 21 9,
528 INDEX.
Wakefield, death of his youngest child, 252.
prepares for his removal from prison, 259.
— — in his way to London visits Mr. Fox, 2S3,
commences a course of Lectures on Virgil^ 28i.
account of his indisposition and death, 28/, 289-
' sketches of his character, 297, 314 note, 327, 437,
454. . his fiineral, 326.
epitaph to his memory, 4(54.
• List of his works, 465.
Wakefield, rev. Thomas, 1.474,502, 11.464.
Walker, rev. George, encomium of his talents and virtue,
L 227. War, depraved effect of, on manufacturers, IL 14 note.
has no alliance with Christianity, 110 note, 400.
the friend of, the true man of sin, 402.
Warburton, character of his Divine Legation, L 406, Warren, rev. Dr. accused of publishing as his own some ser- mons of Dr. Ash ton's, L 70.
Warner, rev. Dr. sentiment of respecting the penalty of death,
IL 273 note. Warrington academy, I. 2 1 4. cause of its downfal, 2l6, 475, 481 , 4.91 ,
559.
,, account of its tutors, 21 7 to 229.
. college at Manchester instituted upon
the ruins of, 495.
Warton, Joseph, his edition of Pope stops the publication of a projected one by Wakefield, II. 58.
. liberal spirit of as a critic and schoolmaster com- mended, 441.
Warton, Thomas, paper in the Idler written by, I. 146 note.
Watson, bishop, letter from to Wakefield, who had dedicated a work to him, I. 249 note, 509.
patronises his Translation of the NewTcstaraent, 356.
INDEX. 529
Watson, bishop, hopes entertained of ecclesiastical reform from his Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, 492.
his Apology for the Bible, II. 38.
■' his Address to the People of Great Britain, 115.
his talents, 118.
■ his preferments, and non-residence, II9 note.
his letter to Wakefield on receiving a copy of The Re- ply, 122.
his Sermon before the Society fot the Suppression of
Vice, cited 277 note. — — liberal sentiments of, on free enquiry, 317* note.
Watson, John, rector of Stockport, particulars respecting, I.
Watts, rev. Dr. his ardent love of theology, II. 3l6.
Wesley, John, anecdote of, I. 243.
character of his preaching, 244.
■ singular couplet in a hymn repeated by, i^.
Wesseling, II. 438
Westminster-school, I. 155.
Whiston, his Life cited as an instance of interesting biography, 1.6.
■ the expectation of preferment deemed by him inju-
rious to morals, 19 note.
his conversation with bishop Smalridge on the cor-
rection of church errors, 126 note. charges Hoadley and other advocates for Christian
liberty with neglecting the cause, 1 28 note. deprecates the evil consequences of prevarication in
matters of religion, 130 note. his account of the early objections of Chillingworth
to conformity, 1/2 note. Wilberforce, Mr. censured for his uniform support of Mr.
Pitt, I. 196. 11. 108.
theological work written by, II. 107.
his unfair treatment of Unitarians, 108 note,
VOL. II. 2 M
530 INDEX.
Wilberforce, Wakefield's answer to, lOQ.
' vindicates Mr. Pitt from the charge of feasting
on a fast-day, 428 note. Wilde, rev. Mr. particulars respecting, I. \65. Will, conclusion of Wakefield's, II. 306.* Williams, a bookseller, prosecuted for publishing a cheap edi-
tion of Paine's Age of Reason, II. 38. Williams, rev. Mr. dissenting minister at Nottingham, I. 171. Williams, Miss, I, 529. Wine, Wakefield's extreme temperance in the use of, I. 143.
II. 235. — See Fermented Liquors. Wise, Enquiries by, respecting the first Inhabitants, &c. of
Europe, cited, II. 339. Witness, conviction on the evidence of a single one, an infrac-
tion of the divine law, I. 309 note. Wooddeson, rev. Richard, particulars respecting, I. 42 to 51. . list of men of talents who were indebted to his
tuition, 43. Woodward, Dr. I. 118, 398 note. 11.358. Woolston, prosecution of, encouraged by churchmen, II. 36. Wotton, sir Henry, sentiment of, on the death of a friend, II.
253 note.
passionately fond of fishing, II. 314.*
Wranglers, at Cambridge, meaning of the term, I. 105 note. Worship, public, expediency of, disputed by Wakefield, I. 356
note. II. 319. in the latter period of his life, not practised by Mil- ton, ib. Wray, Daniel, one of the authors of Athenian Letters, an
advocate for the omission of points in Hebrew, I. 100. Writers, virtuous and peaceful ones against corruption, the salt of the earth, IL 410.
INDEX. 531
X.
Xenophon, excellence of the story by, of Abradates and Pan- thea, 11.235.
Y.
York, duke of. Remarks on the General Orders of, to his
Array, 11.47. Yorke, bishop of Ely, member of an association in early life
for a reform of the church of England, I. 127 i^ote. Young, quotation from, on sleep, 1. 335 note. — — — on the advantages of a literary taste, 346 nota.
THE END.
E R 11 A T A.
VOL. I.
Page 12, line 6, for Stakenhill read Staplehill.
50, at end of Greek note add W.
99, at end of Greek note add W. 168, at end of Greek note add W. 394, 1. 20, for bcgazoit read begayoit. 429, 1. 26, for eleoniosynary read eleemosynary. 445, to the Letter add the date Cambridge, May 29, 17S1. 501, 1. 11, dele 071. jl2, 1. 10, add as after ethics, and dele he.
VOL. II.
55, note, 1. 1, after heeji insert acquainted, 156, 1. 6, for u-as read were, 215, 1. 16, after on insert account of. 225, 1. 6, for tenth iciid Jirst. 273, 1. 1, for prepare read prepares. 313, 1.19, for urite read writing.
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