gentleman (meaning the officer you may be sure) hath been so good as to favour us with. The young gentleman made her a very handsome bow for this overture, which, however, he affected to interpret only as a mere civility. This vigorous vindication, delivered with an earnestness and warmth, equal to its keenness, dumfounded all opposition, and to my infinite satisfaction, which I took care to intimate, carried the cause in favour of Hurlothrumbo. And here, O reader, I met with an occasion of being thankful for that inestimable stock of wisdom, which I derive from education, upon hearing the ignorant wretch of a butler, who happened to get a part both of the play and the dispute, as he gave attendance, muttering to himself some uncouth criticisms, as well on what had passed in the company, as on the performance itself. I heard him swear by his soul, he believed the author was mad, and the whole company little better, for talking so gravely about his hare-brained rants, as he called them; adding, that Tom Clatterplate, who had been lately at London, with his master, Justice Wiseacre, assured him every body there began to suspect the author to be a madman. Astonishing stupidity! Be thou thankful also, O reader, that thou art not such a one as this butler, nor as Clatterplate, the traveller; for had not thy stars been kind to thee, thou mightest have been yet worse than them, even a scavenger. So take not the honour to thyself, but be thankful. The rest of the play being read out, to the great entertainment and edification of us all, we spent the evening very agreeably, every one turning to, and repeating such particular passages, as happened best to hit his taste and humour. I cannot shut up this elaborate and useful treatise, without a parallel between Lord Shaftsbury and Mr. Johnson. There is such a resemblance to justify this new trespass on the patience of my reader, that the genius of the one seems to be transfused into the other. But what seems to bring them the nearest to each other, is the Rhapsody and the Hurlothrumbo, to which two performances the reader is desired to consider me, as alluding in the following comparison. These two authors have, with the same boldness, ventured from the common worn path of all other writers, which can now afford nothing that is new, and notwithstanding they seem to scour the boundless regions of poetical and philosophical matter at random, yet tread precisely in the same path, excepting in a very few instances, which I shall point to hereafter. I persuade myself, I have a clear and distinct idea of both their methods; and yet I find it exceedingly difficult to communicate that idea to the reader, for want of terms, which in this case ought to be very complex, and which, as the occasion is new, have not yet been provided by the learned. But, in some measure to get clear of this difficulty, let us suppose, what will probably happen among posterity, that there is a great number of writings formed exactly according to the manner and plan of each; one half of which are called Rhapsodies, after that of lord Shaftsbury, the first of that name, and the other called Hurlothrumbos, after Mr. Johnson's, as Cicero's Philippics are so called after those of Demosthenes. By which means, Rhapsody and Hurlothrumbo, become the terms of two general ideas, which ideas every intelligent reader will best form to himself, by carefully perusing the two performances; and those who cannot read may get others to do it for them. Were it not for the different periods of their publication, so great is their resemblance to each other, that one would be apt to think they had flowed through the same pen. There is a tragic spirit blended with the philosophy of the Rhapsody, and a philosophical, in the Hurlothrumbo; insomuch that the Rhapsody may not improperly be called an Hurlothrumbo of a Rhapsody, and the Hurlothrumbo, a Rhapsody of a tragedy. There is the same astonishing variety in both. Both breathe the same free spirit of thinking. Both surprise us after the same manner, and by the same faculty of digressing suddenly, and hurrying the reader in a moment from the sight of the first subject, in pursuit of a new one, which escapes and leaves him on the scent of a third, and so on, till a thousand, one after another are started and quitted in the same page. They both pursue their themes with infinite eagerness; but pursue them only for a moment. It is the peculiar excellence of them both to deviate, before they have beaten their path bare; to quit the pump, before they have exhausted their subject. Nor do these two eminent writers, less resemble each other in that gloomy magnificence, in which the true dignity of their writings consists. The same midnight darkness lours over both their performances. Each presents his reader with a night-piece, drawn in so deep a shade, that it seems rather the picture of night itself, than of benighted objects. Yet from this darkness, a gleam of light, now and then, breaks forth, which although it serves not for sight or direction, yet looks excessively bright, because it shines in the dark. They resemble a cloud which envelopes a huge body of fire, and sometimes suffers a flash of lightning, to rush out with amazing suddenness and lustre. But, as no two authors ever were exactly alike in all respects, so neither are these, although it be the most difficult thing in nature to see wherein they differ. If I mistake not, it is peculiar to lord Shaftsbury, to charm and bewitch his readers, and to Mr. Johnson to astonish and terrify them. The former hath more art, the latter more fire. The former insinuates, the latter commands. His lordship circumvents our reason by stratagem. Mr. Johnson takes our hearts by storm. His lordship leads us in the dark through a fantastic heaven. Mr. Johnson drives us trembling through imaginary terrors. The spirit of the former is an ignis-fatuus, that leads his reader through hedges and ditches, over hills and dales, and at last leaves him a sticking up to his ears in a bog. And the genius of the latter, especially when it exerts itself in description, is like the blowing up of a magazine of gunpowder, that breaks out on a sudden with a frightful burst, scatters death and amazement round it, shakes the earth, and invades the skies with a chaos of uproar and confusion. If thy patience, candid and long-suffering reader, hath carried thee thus far, it is now high time I should reward thy indefatigable diligence, and present thee with the most agreeable word by far, in this tedious treatise, which I have hitherto reserved to make amends for all the rest, which long-wished for word, if thou wilt cast thy eyes downward, thou shalt presently behold. A LETTER TO THE AUTHORS OF DIVINE ANALOGY, AND OF THE MINUTE PHILOSOPHERS: FROM AN OLD OFFICER. Ne tanta animis assuescite bella, GENTLEMEN, No doubt, you will think it somewhat odd, to receive a letter from an old officer, on a subject in which books only seem to be concerned, and which relates to one of the subtlest theological controversies that has either exercised or disturbed the church. And what will probably surprise you still more, is to find the same letter directed jointly to two persons, whom their places of abode, but more especially their differences in opinion, have set at so great a distance. But the very occasion of your surprise must remove it; for had you not entered the lists together in the spirit of combat, I should never have had occasion to interpose in the character of a peace-maker, nor call to you both at once, rather in the voice of one that attempts to reconcile friends at variance, than compose the resentments of enemies. I own it may seem a little too presuming, for one of my character and employment, to intermeddle in the controversies of divines; for which reason I should have taken some feigned name, and wrote to you in the disguise, perhaps, of a clergyman, had I not contracted such a habit in the service, of talking about military affairs, and alluding to them, when I am in discourse on subjects the most remote from warfare, that I must have soon betrayed myself to correspondents so discerning. Besides, I do not care to dissemble. You know, gentlemen, it is not the way of the army. I have been too long a soldier to appear any thing else. However, though I have spent a great share of my time in garrisons or camps, as I got a little Latin when I was a boy, I have entertained myself with my books ever since the peace of Utrecht. Though Baker's Chronicle, Knoll's History of the Turks, and several other volumes of the same kind of writing, have been my constant companions in my retirement; yet with leave of the divines, I now and then look a little into church history, and read all the new things that come out, particularly whatsoever relates to the present controversy with libertines, in which, as I am a staunch Christian, my thoughts are very deeply engaged. Do not imagine, gentlemen, that lay-Christians are not concerned, as well as you of the clergy, in the defence of their faith, particularly such as I am, who have drawn my sword as often in the cause of religion, as you have done your pens. If you have risked your characters with posterity in its favour, I have also risked my life for it; and that you know is as dear to me. For every drop of ink you have spent in the service of the church militant, I have shed, at least, four of my blood. If I break in upon your province of writing about religion, do you the same with mine, and fight for it, when occasion shall serve; every man of sense will think it more decent and more consistent with your zeal, than to turn your weapons upon each other, when the common enemy is laying hard at us all. Bear, good gentlemen, bear with the warmth of an old man, who imbibed the principles of religion in better times than these, and the remainder of whose blood rises with indignation at those libertines, who would laugh that faith out of the world, in the defence of which he shed the rest, and no less at those divines, who draw upon each other within the town, when they should unanimously encourage us to the defence of our walls, where the adversary has already made a dangerous breach in one part, while they |