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Altar of St. Ignatius; all painted with the utmoft Accuracy, in their proper Colours.

As the Value of this great Collection may be conceived from this Account, however imperfect, as the Variety of Subjects must engage the Curiosity of Men of different Studies, Inclinations, and Employments, it may be thought of very little Ufe to mention any flighter Advantages, or to dwell on the Decorations and Embellishments which the Generofity of the Proprietors has beftowed upon it; yet, fince the Compiler of the Thuanian Catalogue thought not even that Species of Elegance below his Obfervation, it may not be improper to obferve, that the Harleian Library, perhaps, excels all others, not more in the Number and Excellence, than in the Splendor of its Volumes.

We may now furely be allowed to hope, that our Catalogue will not be thought unworthy of the public Curiofity; that it will be purchased as a Record of this great Collection, and preferved as one of the Memorials of Learning.

The Patrons of Literature will forgive the Purchafer of this Library, if he prefumes to affert fome Claim to their Protection and Encouragement, as he may have been inftrumental in continuing to this Nation the Advantage of it. The Sale of Voffius's Collection into a foreign Country, is, to this Day, regretted by Men of Letters; and if this Effort for the Prevention of another Lofs of the fame Kind fhould be disadvantageous to him, no Man will hereafter willingly rifque his Fortune in the Cause of Learning.

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A DISSERTATION ON AUTHORS.

Scire velim quare toties mihi, Nævole, triftis
Occuris fronte obductâ, ceu Marsya victus. Juv.

HERE is no Gift of Nature, or Effect of Art, however beneficial to Mankind, which, either by cafual Deviations, or foolish Perverfions, is not fometimes mifchievous. Whatever may be the Caufe of Happiness, may be made likewife the Caufe of Mifery. The Medicine, which rightly applied, has Power to cure, has, when Rashness or Ignorance prefcribes it, the fame Power to deftroy.

I have computed, at fome Hours of Leifure, the Lofs and Gain of Literature, and fet the Pain which it produces against the Pleasure. Such Calculations are indeed at a great Distance from mathematical Exactness, as they arife from the Induction of a few Particulars, and from Observations made rather according to the Temper of the Computift, than the Nature of Things. But fuch a narrow Survey as can be taken, will eafily fhew that Letters caufe many Bleffings, and inflict many Calamities; that there is fcarcely an Individual who may not confider them as immediately or mediately influencing his Life, as they are chief Inftruments of conveying Knowledge, and tranfmitting Sentiments; and almost every Man learns, by their Means, all that is right or wrong in his Sentiments and Conduct.

If Letters were confidered only as Means of Pleafure, it might well be doubted in what Degree of Eftimation they should be held; but when they are referred to Neceffity, the Controverfy is at an End: It foon appears, that though they may fometimes in

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commode

commode us; yet human Life would scarcely rise, without them, above the common Existence of animal Nature: We might indeed breathe and eat in univerfal Ignorance; but muft want all that gives Pleasure or Security, all the Embellishments and Delights, and most of the Conveniencies and Comforts of our present Condition.

Literature is a Kind of intellectual Light, which, like the Light of the Sun, may fometimes enable us to fee what we do not like; but who would wish to escape unpleafing Objects, by condemning himself to perpetual Darkness?

Since, therefore, Letters are thus indifpenfably neceffary, fince we cannot perfuade ourselves to lofe their Benefits for the Sake of efcaping their Mifchiefs, it is worth our serious Enquiry, how their Benefits may be increased, and their Mifchiefs leffened; by what Means the Harvest of our Studies may afford us more Corn, and lefs Chaff; and how the Rofes of the Gardens of Science may gratify us more with their Fragrance, and prick us lefs with their Thorns.

I fhall not, at prefent, mention the more formidable Evils which the Mifapplication of Literature produces; nor fpeak of Churches infected with He-. refy, States inflamed with Sedition, or Schools infatuated with hypothetical Fictions. Thefe are Evils which Mankind have always lamented; and which, till Mankind grow wife and modeft, they must, I am afraid, continue to lament, without Hope of Remedy. I fhall now touch only on fome lighter and lefs extenfive Evils, yet fuch as are fufficiently heavy to thofe that feel them; and are of late fo widely dif fufed, as to deferve, though perhaps not the Notice of the Legiflature, yet the Confideration of those whofe Benevolence inclines them to a voluntary Care of public Happiness.

It was long ago obferved by Virgil, and I fuppofe by many before him, that Bees do not make Honey for

their own Ufe: The Sweets which they collect in their laborious Excurfions, and ftore up in their Hives with fo much Skill, are feized by thofe who have contributed neither Toil nor Art to the Collection; and the poor Animals are either deftroyed by the Invader, or left to shift without a Supply. The Condition is nearly the fame of the Gatherer of Honey and the Gatherer of Knowledge. The Bee and the Author work alike for others, and often lofe the Profit of their Labour. The Cafe, therefore, of Authors, however hitherto neglected, may claim Regard. Every Body of Men is important according to the joint Proportion of their Ufefulness and their Number. Individuals, however they may excel, cannot hope to be confidered fingly as of great Weight in the political Balance; and Multitudes, though they may, merely by their Bulk, demand fome Notice, are yet not of much Value, unless they contribute to cafe the Burthen of Society, by -co-operating to its Profperity.

Of the Men, whofe Condition we are now examining, the Usefulness never was difputed: They are known to be the great Diffeminators of Knowledge, and Guardians of the Commonwealth; and of late their Numbers have been so much increased, that they are become a very confpicuous Part of the Nation. It is not now, as in former Times, when Men ftudied long, and paffed through the Severities of Difcipline, and the Probation of public Trials, before they prefumed to think themselves qualified for Inftructors of their Countrymen: There is found a nearer Way to Fame and Erudition, and the Inclofures of Literature are thrown open to every Man whom Idleness difpofes to loiter, or whom Pride inclines to fet himself to View. The Sailor publishes his Journal; the Farmer writes the Procefs of his annual Labour: He that fucceeds in his Trade

thinks his Wealth a Proof of his Understanding, and boldly

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boldly tutors the Public: He that fails, confiders his Mifcarriage as the Confequence of a Capacity too great for the Bufinefs of a Shop, and amufes himself in the Fleet with Writing or Tranflating. The laft Century imagined, that a Man compofing in his Chariot was a new Object of Curiofity; but how much would the Wonder have been increased, by a Footman ftudying behind it? There is now no Clafs of Men without its Authors, from the Peer to the Thresher; nor can the Sons of Literature be confined any longer to Grubflreet or Moorfields; they are spread over all the Town and all the Country, and fill every Stage of Habitation from the Cellar to the Garret.

It is well known, that the Price of Commodities muft always fall as the Quantity is increased, and that no Trade can allow its Profeffors to be multiplied beyond a certain Number. The great Mifery of Writers proceeds from their Multitude. We eafily perceive that in a Nation of Clothiers no Man could have any Cloth to make but for his own Back; that in a Community of Bakers every Man must use his own Bread; and what can be the Cafe of a Nation of Authors, but that every Man must be content to read his Book to himself? For furely it is in vain to hope, that of Men labouring at the fame Occupation, any will prefer the Work of his Neighbour to his own; yet this Expectation, wild as it is, feems to be indulged by many of the Writing Race; and therefore it can be no Wonder that, like all other Men who fuffer their Minds to form inconfiderate Hopes, they are harraffed and dejected with frequent Difappointments.

If I were to form an Adage of Misery, or fix the lowest Point to which Humanity could fall, Ifhould be tempted to name the Life of an Author. Many univerfal Comparisons there are by which Mifery is expreffed. We talked of a Man teazed like a Bear at

the

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