author's works survived, the history of the man was to give no moral lesson to after-ages. If tradition told us that BEN JONSON went to the Devil Tavern; that SHAKSPEARE. stole deer, and held the stirrup at playhouse doors; that DRYDEN frequented Button's Coffee-house; Curiosity was lulled asleep, and Biography forgot the best part of her function, which is to instruct mankind by examples taken from the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part, choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain tradition, and vague report.

"Nunc situs informis premit et deserta Vetustas.”

The value of Biography has been better understood in other ages, and in other countries. Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and characters of illustrious men was the practice of the Roman authors, in the early periods of the Republic. In France the example has been followed. Fontenelle, D'Alembert, and Monsieur Thomas, have left models in this kind of composition. They have embalmed the dead. But it is true, that they

they had incitements and advantages, even at a distant day, which could not, by any diligence, be obtained by Dr. Johnson. The wits of France had ample materials. They lived in a nation of critics, who had at heart the honour done to their country by their Poets, their Heroes, and their Philosophers. They had, besides, an Academy of Belles Lettres, where Genius was cultivated, refined, and encouraged. They had the tracts, the essays, and dissertations, which remain in the Memoires of the Academy, and they had the speeches of the several members, delivered at their first admission to a seat in that learned Assembly. In those speeches the new Academician did ample justice to the memory of his predecessor; and though his harangue was decorated with the colours of eloquence, and was, for that reason, called panegyric, yet being pronounced before qualified judges, who knew the talents, the conduct, and morals of the deceased, the speaker could not, with propriety, wander into the regions of fiction. The truth was known before it was adorned. The Academy saw the marble before the artist polished it. But this country has had no Academy of Litera 13

ture,

as

ture. The public mind, for centuries, has been engrossed by party and faction; by the madness of many for the gain of a few; by civil wars, religious dissentions, trade and commerce, and the arts of accumulating wealth. Amidst such attentions, who can wonder that cold praise has been often the only reward of merit? In this country Doctor Nathaniel Hodges, who like the good bishop of Marseilles, drew purer breath amidst the contagion of the plague in London, and, during the whole time, continued in the city, administering medical assistance, was suffered, Johnson used to relate with tears in his eyes, to die for debt in a gaol. In this country, the man who brought the New River to London was ruined by that noble project; and in this country Otway died for want on Tower Hill; Butler, the great author of Hudibras, whose name can, only die with the English language, was left to languish in poverty, the particulars of his life almost unknown, and scarce a vestige of him left except his immortal poem. Had there been an Academy of Literature, the lives, at least, of those celebrated persons would have been written for the benefit of posterity. Swift, it seems,

1

had

had the idea of such an institution, and proposed it to Lord Oxford; but Whig and Tory were more important objects. It is needless to dissemble, that Dr. Johnson, in the Life of Roscommon, talks of the inutility of such a project. "In this country," he says, " an Academy could be expected to do but "little. If an academician's place were pro

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fitable, it would be given by interest; if "attendance were gratuitous, it would be rarely paid, and no man would endure the "least disgust. Unanimity is impossible, and "debate would separate the assembly." To this it may be sufficient to answer, that the Royal Society has not been dissolved by sullen disgust; and the modern Academy at Somerset-house has already performed much, and promises more. Unanimity is not necessary to such an assembly. On the contrary, by difference of opinion, and collision of sentiment, the cause of literature would thrive and flourish. The true principles of criticism, the secret of fine writing, the investigation of antiquities, and other interesting subjects, might occasion a clash of opinions; but in that contention Truth would receive illustration, and the essays of the several

I 4

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several members would supply the Memoirs of the Academy. But, says Dr. Johnson, suppose the philological decree made and promulgated, what would be its authority? "In absolute government there is sometimes

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a general reverence paid to all that has "the sanction of power, the countenance "of greatness. How little this is the state "of our country needs not to be told. The "edicts of an English academy would pro

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bably be read by many, only that they

may be sure to disobey them. The pre

"sent manners of the nation would deride "authority, and therefore nothing is left "but that every writer should criticise him"self." This surely is not conclusive. It is by the standard of the best writers that every man settles for himself his plan of legitimate composition; and since the authority of superior genius is acknowledged, that authority, which the individual obtains, would not be lessened by an association with others of distinguished ability. It It may, therefore, be inferred, that an Academy of Literature would be an establishment highly useful, and an honour to Literature. In such an institution profitable places would not be wanted,