"Cornish language, which the inhabitants in general (even the "gentry) did then well underfland. She is pofitive, however, "that there is neither in Moufe"hole, or in any other part of the

country, any perfon who knows 66 any thing of it, or at least can "converse in it. She is poor, and "maintained partly by the parish, and partly by fortune-telling, and "gabbling of Cornifh."

I have thus thought it right to lay before the fociety* this account of the laft fparks of the Cornish tongue, and cannot but think that a linguist (who understands Welsh) might ftill pick up a more compleat vocabulary of the Cornish than any we are at prefent poffeffed of, efpecially as the two neighbours of this old woman, whom I have had occafion to mention, are not now above 77 or 78 years of age, and were very healthy when I faw them; fo that the whole does not depend upon the life of this Cornish Sibyl, as fhe is willing to infinuate.

If it is faid that I have ftated that thefe neighbours could not fpeak the language, this fhould be underftood, that they cannot converse so readily in it as fhe does, because I have mentioned that they compre

hended her abufe upon me, which implies a certain knowledge of the Cornish tongue. Thus the most learned men of this country cannot fpeak Latin fluently, for want of practice; yet it would be very easy to form a Latin vocabulary from

them.

It is also much to be wished, that fuch a linguift would go into the ifle of Man, and report to the fociety in what ftate that expiring language may be at prefent.

As for the Welsh, I do not fee the leaft probability of its being loft in the more mountainous parts; for as there are no valuable mines in feveral of the parishes thus fituated, I do not conceive that it is poffible to introduce the ufe of English. The prefent inhabitants therefore and their defcendants will continue to speak their native language in thofe diftricts; for the Welsh cannot fettle in England, becaufe they cannot fpeak the tongue; nor will English fervants for hefbandry live with the Welsh, because they would not understand their mafters. I am,

Dear Sir,

Your most faithful, Humble Servant, DAINES BARRINGTON.

MISCEL

Thoughts on Free thinking, and on Free-thinkers, particularly the late Earl of Shaftesbury and the late Lord Bolingbroke, by the late Mr. Gray; in a Letter from Mr. Gray to Mr. Stonhewer; with Obfervations on thefe Thoughts, by Mr.Mafon, &c. From Mr. Mafon's Edition of Mr. Gray's Works.

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Cambridge, Aug. 18, 1758. AM as forry as you feem to be, that our acquaintance harped fo much on the fubject of materialism, when I faw him with you in town, because it was plain to which fide of the long-debated queftion he inclined. That we are indeed mechanical and dependent beings, I need no other proof than my own feelings; and from the fame feelings I learn, with equal conviction, that we are not merely fuch that there is a power within that ftruggles against the force and biafs of that mechanifm, commands its motion, and, by frequent practice, reduces it to that ready obedience which we call babit ; and all this in conformity to a preconceived opinion (no matter whether right or wrong) to that leaft material of all agents, a thought. I have known many in his cafe, who, while they thought they were conquering an old prejudice, did not perceive they were under the influence of one far more dangerVOL. XVIII. 1775.

ous; one that furnishes us with a ready apology for all our worst actions, and opens to us a full licence for doing whatever we please; and yet thefe very people were not at all the more indulgent to other men, (as they naturally fhould have been) their indignation to fuch as offended them, their defire of revenge on any body that hurt them, was nothing mitigated: in fhort, the truth is, they wished to be perfuaded of that opinion for the fake of its convenience, but were not fo in their heart; and they would have been glad (as they ought in common prudence) that nobody elfe fhould think the fame, for fear of the mifchief that might enfue to themfelves. His French author I never faw, but have read fifty in the fame ftrain, and fhall read no more. I can be wretched enough without them. They put me in mind of the Greek fophift that got immortal honour by difcourfing fo feelingly on the miseries of our condition, that fifty of his audience went home and hanged themselves; yet he lived himself (I fuppofe) many years after in very good plight.

You fay you cannot conceive how Lord Shaftesbury came to be a philofopher in vogue; I will tell you: firft, he was a Lord; 2dly, he was as vain as any of his readers; 3dly, men are very prone to believe what M

they

they do not understand; 4thly, they will believe any thing at all, provided they are under no obligation to believe it; 5thly, they love to take a new road, even when that road leads no where; 6thly, he was reckoned a fine writer, and feemed. always to mean more than he faid. Would you have any more reafons? An interval of above forty years has pretty well destroyed the charm. A dead lord ranks but with commoners: vanity is no longer interested in the matter, for the new road is become an old one. The mode of freethinking is like that of ruffs and farthingales, and has given place to the mode of not thinking at all; once it was reckoned graceful, half to difcover and half conceal the mind, but now we have been long accustomed to fee it quite naked: primnefs and affectation of style, like the good-breeding of Queen Anne's court, has turned to hoydening and rude familiarity.

It will, I think, be no improper fupplement to the foregoing letter to infert a paper of Mr. Gray's, which contains fome very pertinent ftrictures on the writings of a later Lord, who was pleafed to attack the moral attributes of the Deity, or, what amounted to the fame thing, endeavoured to prove, "that we have no adequate ideas of his

goodness and justice, as we have of his natural ones, his wifdom and power." This pofition the excellent author of the View of Lord Bolingbroke's Philofophy, calls the MAIN PILLAR Of his fyftem; and adds, in another place, that the FATE OF ALL RELIGION is included in this question. On this important point, therefore, that able writer has dwelt largely, and confuted his Lordship effectually. Some fort of readers, however, who probably would flight that confutation, may regard the arguments of a layman, and even a poet, more than thofe which are drawn up by the pen of a divine and a bishop: it is for the ufe of thefe that the paper is published; who, if they learn nothing elfe from it, will find that Mr. Gray was not of their party, nor fo great a wit as to disbelieve the existence of a Deity *.

"I will allow Lord Bolingbroke, that the moral, as well as physical, attributes of God must be known to us only à pofteriori, and that this is the only real knowledge we can have either of the one or the other; I will allow too that perhaps it may be an idle diftinétion which we make between them: his moral attributes being as much in his nature and effence as those we call his phyfical; but the occafion of our making some diftinction

is plainly this: his eternity, infinity, omniscience, and almighty power, are not what connect him, if I may fo fpeak, with us his creatures. We adore him, not becaufe he always did in every place, and always will, exift; but because he gave and ftill preferves to us our own existence by an exertion of his goodness. We adore him, not becaufe he knows and can do all things, but because he made us capable of knowing and of doing what may conduct us to happiness: it is therefore his benevolence which we adore, not his greatness or power; and if we are made only to bear our part in a fyftem, without any regard to our own particular happiness, we can no longer worfhip him as our all-bounteous parent: there is no meaning in the term. The idea of his malevolence (an impiety 1 tremble to write) muft fucceed. We have nothing left but our fears, and thofe too vain; for whither can they lead to but to despair and the fad defire of annihilation?" If then, juftice "and goodness be not the fame in "God as in our ideas, we mean

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nothing when we fay that God "is neceffarily just and good; and "for the fame reafon it may as "well be faid that we know not "what we mean when, according "to Dr. Clarke, (Evid. 26th) we "affirm that he is neceffarily a "wife and intelligent Being." What then can Lord Bolingbroke mean, when he fays every thing fhews the wisdom of God, and yet adds, every thing does not fhew in like manner the goodness of God conformably to our ideas of this attribute in either? By wifdom he must only mean, that God knows and employs the fitteft means to a

certain end, no matter what that end may be: this indeed is a proof of knowledge and intelligence; but these alone do not constitute wifdom: the word implies the application of these fittest means to the beft and kindest end: or, who will call it true wifdom? even amongst ourfelves, it is not held as fuch. All the attributes then that he feems to think apparent in the contitution of things, are his unity, infinity, eternity and intelligence; from no one of which, I boldly affirm, can refult any duty of gratitude or adoration incumbent on mankind, more than if he and all things round him were produced, as fome have dared to think, by the neceffary working of eternal matter in an infinite vacuum: for, what does it avail to add intelligence to thofe other phyfical attributes, unless that intelligence be directed, not only to the good of the whole, but alfo to the good of every individual of which that whole is compofed.

It is therefore no impiety, but the direct contrary, to fay that human juftice and the other virtues, which are indeed only various applications of human benevolence, bear fome refemblance to the moral attributes of the Supreme Being: it is only by means of that refemblance, we conceive them in him, or their effects in his works: it is by the fame means only, that we comprehend thofe phyfical attributes which his Lordship allows to be demonftrable: How can we form any notion of his unity, but from that unity of which we ourselves are confcious? How of his exiftence, but from our own consciousness of exifting? How of his power, but of that power which we experience

i

n ourfelves? Yet neither Lord Boingbroke nor any other man, that thought on thefe subjects, ever believed that thefe our ideas were real and full reprefentations of these attributes in the Divinity. They fay he knows; they do not mean that he compares ideas which he acquired from fenfation, and draws conclufions from them. They fay he acts; they do not mean by impulfe, nor as the foul acts on an organized body. They fay he is omnipotent and eternal; yet on what are their ideas founded, but on our own narrow conceptions of fpace and duration, prolonged be yond the bounds of space and time? Either therefore there is a refemblance and analogy (however imperfect and diflant) between the attributes of the Divinity and our conceptions of them, or we cannot have any conception of them at all: he allows we ought to reafon from earth, that we do know, to heaven which we do not know; how can we do fo but by that affinity which appears between the one and the other?

In vain then does my Lord attempt to ridicule the warm but melancholy imagination of Mr. Wollaston in that fine foliloquy: "Muft I then bid my laft farewel "to these walks when I close these

lids, and yonder blue regions, "and all this scene darken upon "me and go out? Muft I then "only ferve to furnish duft to be

mingled with the ashes of these "herds and plants, or with this "dirt under my feet? Have I

been fet fo far above them in "life, only to be levelled with "them in death *?" No thinking head, no heart, that has the leaft fenfibility, but must have made the fame reflection; or at least muft feel, not the beauty alone, but the truth of it, when he hears it from the mouth of another. Now what reply will Lord Bolingbroke make to these questions which are put to him, not only by Wollafton, but by all mankind? He will tell you, that we, that is, the animals, vegetables, ftones, and other clods of earth, are all connected in one immenfe defign; that we are all dramatis perfonæ, in different characters, and that we were not made for ourfelves, but for the action: that it is foolish, prefumptuous, impious, and profane to murmur against the Almighty Author of this drama, when we feel ourselves unavoidably unhappy. On the contrary, we ought to reft our head on the foft pillow of refignation, on the immoveable rock of tranquillity; secure, that, if our pains and afflictions grow violent indeed, an immediate end will be put to our miferable being, and we fhall be mingled with the dirt under our feet, a thing common to all the animal kind; and of which, he who complains, does not feem to have been fet by his reafon fo far above them in life, as to deserve not to be mingled with them in death. Such is the confolation his philofophy gives us, and fuch the hope on which his tranquillity was founded t.

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