author has in fact done more than is intimated in the | ble defects. It possesses little critical acumen. He title of his work. It is not merely an accompaniment does not seem remarkable for that accurate discriminato scholastic studies, or a meagre analytic compend❘ tion which is necessary in an historian, for distinguishof events, but contains a fund of knowledge and grati- ing between improbability and verisimilitude; nor fication suited to every taste. The narrative is so that critical sagacity which can guide a reader clearly deeply imbued with the spirit and feeling of antiquity, through the various discordant narratives of Greek that those who are debarred from the classical originals, and Roman historians. He is often very credulous. cannot repair to a better source to form correct notions His facts are not always authentic, nor is his chroof the manners and temper of ancient nations; while nology remarkable for its accuracy: yet his credulity the erudite scholar will be delighted to find the sub- may be excused, as he was educated in a community stance of his studies embodied and presented to the where credulity is confounded with faith; and where view of his mind in one consistent work. To accom- as much dependence is placed on the traditionary plish such a work, required a very enlarged range legends of lying monks as on Revelation itself. It is of classical erudition. A very slight inspection will hardly possible for such a man as Rollin, educated in convince every-even the most ordinary, as well as an idolatrous community, and imbued with the faith of the most enlightened-reader, that he who executed Jansenistic miracles, not to be in some degree creduзuch a task was no ordinary man. Whatever moral lous. The Philosophy of history, which can trace to instruction can be drawn from the perusal of historical their latent sources those revolutions in the history of events or biographical facts, is sure to be found in his mind-those changes in political societies, which have pages. With these they are almost as thickly inter- so deeply affected the interests of the human race, he spersed as are the tragedies of Euripides, but with does not seem very deeply to have studied. His remore propriety, since history furnishes the maxims flections, though always pious, moral, and appropriate, drawn from experience, whether it be that of indivi- seldom rise above the rank of common-place. He is duals or societies, or nations, while tragedy attempts not often brilliant, seldomer still either sublime or proto produce the same effect by emotions of terror or found, but he rarely fails to exhibit symptoms of a feelpity. His custom of moralizing so much arose from ing heart and a cultivated understanding. His athis solicitude to inspire youthful minds with the prin- tempts at biblical criticism are seldom happy; nor is ciples of virtue. It was chiefly for this purpose that he always a luminous commentator, whether on scripthe Ancient History was compiled. Even persons of ture or profane history. He is himself occasionally riper years and more matured judgment, may be both chargeable with that very fault which he labours to pleased and edified with his sentiments. His contem- prevent in others—an excessive admiration of heathen porary the Duke of Cumberland, paid him the follow-characters, as in the case of Cyrus, Socrates, and ing compliment: "I know not how M. Rollin mana- Lycurgus. So great is his admiration of Roman virges. Every where else reflections weary me; in his tue, that he attempts to make an apology for their conbook they charm me, and I never lose a single word of duct towards unhappy Carthage, at the commencethem." Their intention is good, and their tendency ment of the third and last Punic war-a conduct which excellent, whatever opinion may be formed of their every man imbued with sentiments of equity and jusprofusion. tice, must and will condemn, and that in the most unqualified terms. In describing the Lacedæmonian manners and character, he acts the part of a partial eulogist. He tells their virtues, but is silent on their faults. He gives only one side of the picture. The character of Cyrus is completely overcharged with praise, and he takes every word of Xenophon for gospel. His work, however, with all these defects, is a very popular and very useful performance: and has been the happy mean of awakening that latent curiosity in the minds of the young which is absolutely necessary for mental or moral improvement. It has induced many to read who otherwise, perhaps, would never have turned their attention that way. It must also be remembered, that he lived at a time when the knowledge of histo rical composition was but in its infancy; and that he had the merit of paving the way for the appearance of that very learned and laborious, though unequal work, the Ancient Universal History. His writings attracted the notice of the great, from whom he received many flattering tokens of regard as the Prince Royal of Prussia, afterwards Frederick II., Queen Anne of England, and the Regent Duke of Orleans. Nothing ought to be more cautiously guarded against than an excessive admiration of learned and classical antiquity. It is the easily besetting sin of those who have drunk deep and long at the fountain of Pagan lore, whether in philosophy or poetry, history or elocution. Its tendency is in some degree to paganize the mind, or to produce an anomalous commixture of heathen and Christian principles insensibly in the scholar himself. Our author was quite aware of this tendency; and in order to counteract it, determines the merit of Pagan actions by the standard of Divine Revelation. He did not judge Pagans themselves by this standard, which would have been flagrantly unjust-a standard which they did not possess but their actions alone. He makes due allowance for the situation in which Perans were placed; but will admit of no palliation under that light which revelation has produced. There is much more pious feeling, and regard to religious principle, to be found in his Ancient History, than in the historical works of Robertson. No insidious attacks upon Revelation-no covert insinuations against the truths of Christianity-no profane ridicule of sacred things, disgrace his pages, as they do those of a Voltaire, a Gibbon, and a Hume. He does not labour to unsettle the faith or principles of his reader; nor does he display that heartless indifference to the welfare of his species, which is so predominant in the elegant narrative of Hume. Non ulla anguis in herba His style, which his translator has very happily copied, is graceful, easy, and harmonious. It is formed upon the model of Xenophon, with whose writings he was intimately acquainted, and the study of which was his favourite employment. So successfully has he imitated his beauties, that, as the disciple of Socrates was called the Attic Bee, so the pupil of Hersan has been styled by Montesquieu, in his posthumous works, the Bee of France. Yet impartiality obliges us to confess, that his work exhibits several considera In his old age, Rollin softened its pressure by innocent convivial pleasures. Then, more freely than before, he yielded to those numerous invitations with which his society was courted. He dined abroad almost daily with his friends, except Sundays and festivals. On these occasions he always endeavoured to have his conversation seasoned with salt, that it might be useful to instruct parents by his experienced counsels, and encourage the young by his tenderness, and improve them by kind but well seasoned interrogations. He was sixty years of age before he ventured to write in his native language, and seventy when he commenced his Ancient History; and at the advanced period of seventy-five, he undertook a new work. This was the Roman History, from the foundation of Rome to the battle of Actium; the first volume of which was published with the last of his Ancient History. It appears that he hesitated for some time whether, at so advanced an age, he should commence so arduous a work-a contemporaries, and that openly in the view of angels and of men. trary, gave notoriety to it by his own pen; and in a Latin epigram reminds one of his friends, that he took his flight from the caves of Etna to the summit of Pindus. ret. Doctissimo viro N. Bosquillon cum ei cultellum in xenia mitte Etna hæc non Pindus tibi mittit munera, morem period which he deemed more proper to be devoted to the studies and the practice of religion. But at length he was induced, by the advice of his friends, to com- In Rollin's character, learning was ennobled by virmence it, as it would be advantageous to youth, and tue, and virtue elevated by piety. His piety was not which, therefore, could not fail of being acceptable to affected-was not the homage that vice pays to virtue, his Creator. He finished half of this intended perform- but that of an honest and ardent mind. He lived in ance. It does not, however, possess the merit of its what is termed the Augustan age of French literature predecessors. It is comparatively a dull and uninterest--the age of Louis XIV.-so much extolled by Voling performance; and bears the evident symptoms of taire, and was contemporaneous with her most celeold age, from that excessive proneness to moralize brated literary characters. Although not entitled to which it betrays on almost every occasion. While he the first rank among the writers of his own country; merely performs the dry and uninteresting part of an yet his attainments were great-his talents respectaannalist, he dwells with fond garrulity on those events ble-his learning extensive and his taste purified by which furnished matter of serious reflection to his bur- the models of classical antiquity. It may be affirmed, dened mind. It is greatly inferior to the similar works that his virtues were of the first order; and what bleof a Hooke and a Ferguson. Its chief excellence con- mishes were in his character, were as small spots in a sists in giving to a French reader an elegant translation luminous body, nidi in pulcherrimo corpore. Depressed of some of Livy's finest passages. Crevier, his pupil, by an obscure birth and an humble fortune, Rollin had continued the history from the ninth to the sixteenth to overcome many difficulties, ere he could obtain the volume; and however little praise Rollin's part of the most eminent situations in learning. Compelled to work deserves, Crevier's deserves still less. rely on his own resources, having no friends but those Our pious author was now drawing nigh the close of whom his exemplary conduct and superior talents his useful career. He had spent his days in virtue and conciliated, he rose solely by his own merit. When honour, and their termination was peace. In his last ill-this was rewarded by success, perhaps superior to his ness, which though fatal, was short, when the last sacra- ambition, it made no visible change in his mind, which ments were administered to him, his surrounding friends seemed as humble as if he had remained in his origiand pupils were overwhelmed with grief and drowned nal obscurity. He was never ashamed of his humble in tears. The good man, elated with Christian hope-birth, nor his pristine low condition; but, on the conthat anchor of the renewed soul, which catches hold of that within the veil, whither our Great Forerunner has for us entered, and joyously anticipating that abundant entrance which would be ministered to his departing spirit into the kingdom of God, reproved their lamentations, by declaring that no tears should be shed for him, and that his last day was to him and them a festival. Supported in the agonies of his dissolving frame by such holy sentiments, he expired in joy, and died in faith, in the eighty-first year of his age. His funeral was attended by the members of that univer- When caressed by the most illustrious persons in sity over which as rector he had twice presided; but Europe, he still lived in a style as unostentatious and he was denied the customary honours of an Eloge pro- simple, as that of the plainest citizen. His house was nounced by a public discourse, for no other reason so small, that it could sometimes with difficulty conthan because he was a Jansenist. Such detestable bigo-tain the numerous visitants who flocked to him. Splen try, such rancorous intolerance which pursued this emi- dour and parade were wearisome to him. When nently pious, learned, and useful man, even to his last compelled by courtesy to be present at those enterobsequies, cannot but excite the strongest indignation tainments, which had no attraction but the luxury of in the mind of every reader acquainted with his charac- the repast and the rank of the guests, he always reter and writings. He was accused of concealing in turned home dissatisfied. "These dinners (he would his humble mansion a press, whence issued anony- complain,) when one does nothing but dine, fatigue mous pamphlets. The informations against him were me; I reckon such days lost." He preferred the taso positive and urgent, that Cardinal Fleury, the Pre-bles of virtuous citizens, who were zealous for the mier, was obliged to order the police to examine his education of their children. With them he had alhouse, and the search was as rigorous as the accusation ways an opportunity to discharge his duty. "These had been malicious and groundless. Thus, in life and (he would say) are my dukes and peers." Disindeath, this good man was the victim of Jesuitical hate; terestedness was a principal feature in his character; and it is matter of grief and lamentation to every and from this noble principle, and not from unavoidabenevolent mind-every breast that throbs with com- ble poverty, arose his moderation. He had many oppassion for human wo, that such a detestable, such portunities of making a fortune, all of which he magan inhuman, unrelenting order, has been again re- nanimously declined or rejected. He never availed established by papal authority; and that the souls himself of his intercourse with the great, for the purpose and the consciences of the French people are to be of self-aggrandizement, though his income, at the time henceforth in the keeping of the Jesuits. It is one of of his greatest prosperity, was scarcely 3,000 livres those bitter fruits which sprung from the restoration annually, or 1251. sterling-a sum hardly equal to one of the Bourbon family to the throne of France. Louis seventh of the salary of the principalship of one of our XVI., the best and yet the most unfortunate of that Scottish universities. He relinquished those profits, worthless family, endeavoured to cancel the injus- which would have been only the just remuneration of tice which had been done Rollin, and ordered a sta- his study and labours; for the sole stipulation which tue to be erected to his memory, among those of the he made with the bookseller who published his works, most illustrious men of France. Public monuments was, that he might be allowed to indemnify him, if he are but a poor recompense to the persecuted dead, should happen to incur any loss. After he had quitwho are now beyond either the love or the hatred, the ted the college of Beauvais, his friend and protector, praise or the censure, of man. This, however, is all the president of Mesmes, secretly solicited for him a that posterity can do to repair the injustice, the cruelty, pension upon an ecclesiastical benefice. When he the irreligious hate of generations that are past. The was on the point of obtaining his request, he sent for vengeance due to such persecutors is with that Rollin to communicate the intelligence, which (as he • God to whom it belongs; and who will one day be thought) would be joyfully received. But our author revealed in flaming fire, to award that just retribution having heard the proposal, exclaimed with surprise, which such deeds deserved, and do ample justice to "A pension, my Lord, for me! Why, what service those worthies, which was denied them by their have I done or rendered the church, that I should pos sess ecclesiastical revenues." The president re- I went to the church of Notre Dame, or our Lady, where minded him, that the Christian education which he had he heard mass, communicated, and passed part of the given to so many youths was a service rendered to the morning in prayers. Every year, if he was at Paris church as well as the state; and urged him, as he was far from being rich, to accept the assistance which was offered. "My Lord (replied Rollin,) I am richer than the king" and firmly persisted in rejecting property to which he thought none but churchmen entitled. Though straitened in circumstances, Rollin is commended for great liberality and beneficence. He assisted with his purse the scholars whom he intended for professors; and who were too indigent to defray the entire expenses attendant on their education. Every month his servant distributed alms to a considerable amount. On one occasion, being informed of an increase on the price of bread, he wrote to his faithful domestic from the Château d'Asfeld: "You must double the ordinary distribution for the last month and for this: you must even make it triple, if you think it necessary. Do not be afraid of impoverishing me by giving too much. It is laying out my money at great interest." In devotion Rollin was rigid and even superstitious. During the time of the popular fanaticism respecting the Abbe Paris, he was to be seen praying at the tomb of the pious deacon. He said his breviary with the most punctual regularity. He heard mass every day, and always received the sacraments on Sundays. He cherished a singular devotion for the Virgin Mary; and on the days consecrated to her worship, he usually in the month of October, he made on foot the pilgrimage of St. Dennis, during the festival of the apostle of France. He visited also annually his parish church of St. John en Grève, to renew his baptismal vows at the sacred font. It was a practice which he commenced when he was principal, and afterwards continued till his death, to pray daily to the Infant Jesus Christ for the young to the Virgin Mary for mothers-and to St. Joseph for fathers and mothers. During lent he practised great austerities, and observed the discipline of the primitive church. Such is the picture which has been drawn of Rollin's devotion. It is impossible not to regret that so much superstition and credulity should have prevailed in his character, and been displayed in his conduct. But it is impossible to calculate the influence which education, and religion which constantly acts upon the senses, may have upon the human mind; and how prone the most vigorous understandings are to believe the grossest absurdities, and indulge in the most foolish superstitions and gloomy austerities. What shall we say when such a man as the profound Pascal believed that most absurd of all absurdities, Transubstantiation? But, alas! alas! poor human nature! While we smile at Rollin's superstitions, and shun his errors, let us imitate that piety and those benevolent virtues which rendered him beloved and esteemed. APPROBATION. PARIS, 3d September, 1729. I HAVE read, by order of the Lord-Keeper, a manuscript entitled, “The Ancient History of the Egyptians, Carthaginians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes, Persians, Macedonians, and Greeks," &c. In this work appear the same principles of religion, of probity, and the same happy endeavours to improve the minds of youth, which are so conspicuous in all the writings of this Author. The present work is not confined merely to the instruction of young people, but may be of service to all persons in general, who will now have an opportunity of reading in their native tongue, a great number of curious events, which before were known to few except the learned. SECOUSSE. A LETTER WRITTEN BY THE RIGHT REVEREND DR. FRANCIS ATTerbury, late LORD BISHOP OF ROCHESTER, TO M. ROLLIN, IN COMMENDATION OF THIS WORK. REVERENDE ATQUE ERUDITISSIME VIR, CUM, monente amico quodam, qui juxta ædes tuas habitat, scirem te Parisios revertisse, statui salutatum te ire, ut primùm per valetudinem liceret. Id officii, ex pedum infirmitate aliquandiu dilatum, cùm tandem me impleturum sperarem, frustrà fui; domi non eras. Restat,ut quod coràm exequi non potui,scriptis saltem literis præstem; tibique ob ea omnia quibus à te auctus sum, beneficia, grates agam, quas habeo certè, et semper habiturus sum, maximas. Reverà munera illa librorum nuperis à te annis editorum egregia ac perhonorifica mihi visa sunt. Multi enim facio, et te, vir præstantissime, et tua omnia quæcunque in isto literarum genere perpolita sunt; in quo quidem Te cæteris omnibus ejusmodi scriptoribus facilè antecellere, atque esse eundem et dicendi et sentiendi magistrum optimum, prorsùs existimo; cùmque in excolendis his studiis aliquantulum ipse et operæ et temporis posuerim, liberè ta men profiteor me, tua cùm legam ac relegam, ea edoctum esse à te, non solùm quæ nesciebam prorsùs, sed etiam quæ anteà didicisse mihi visus sum. Modestè itaque nimiùm de opere tuo sentis, cùm juventuti tantùm instituendæ elaboratum id esse contendis. Ea certè scribis, quæ à viris istius modi rerum haud imperitis, cum voluptate et fructu legi possunt. Vetera quidem et satis cognita revocas in memoriam; sed ita revocas, ut illustres, ut ornes; ut aliquid vetustis adjicias quod novum sit, alienis quod omnino tuum: bonasque picturas bonâ in luce collocando efficis, ut etiam iis, à quibus sæpissimè conspectæ sunt, elegantiores tamen solito appareant, et placeant magis. Certè, dum Xenophontem sæpiùs versas, ab illo et ea quæ à te plurimis in locis narrantur, et ipsum ubi- | speaking and thinking well and I freely confess that, que narrandi modum videris traxisse, stylique Xeno- though I had applied some time and pains in cultivatphontei nitorem ac venustam simplicitatem non imi- ing such studies, when I read your volumes over and tari tantùm, sed planè assequi: ita ut si Gallicè scisset over again, I am instructed by you not only in things Xenophon, non aliis illum, in eo argumento quod of which I was entirely ignorant, but also those which tractas, verbis usurum, non alio prorsus more scrip- I fancied myself to have learned before. You have, turum, judicem. therefore, too modest an opinion of your work, when you declare it composed solely for the instruction of youth. What you write may undoubtedly be read with pleasure and improvement by persons who are proficients in learning of that kind. For whilst you call to mind ancient facts and things sufficiently known, you do it in such a manner, that you illustrate, you embellish them; still adding something new to the old, something entirely your own to the labours of others by placing good pictures in a good light, you make them appear with unusual elegance and more exalted beauties, even to those who have seen and studied them most. Hæc ego,haud assentandi causâ (quod vitium procul à me abest,) sed verè ex animi sententiâ dico. Cùm enim pulchris è te donis ditatus sim, quibus in eodem aut in alio quopiam doctrinæ genere referendis imparem me sentio, volui tamen propensi erga te animi gratique testimonium proferre, et te aliquo saltem munusculo, etsi perquam dissimili, remunerari. Perge, vir docte admodùm et venerande, de bonis literis, quæ nunc neglecta passim et spretæ jacent, bene mereri; perge juventutem Gallicam (quando illi solummodò te utilem esse vis) optimis et præceptis et exemplis informare. Quod ut facias, annis ætatis tuæ elapsis multos adjiciat Deus! iisque decurrentibus sanum te præstet atque incolumem. Hoc ex animo optat ac vovet Tui observantissimus FRANCISCUS ROFFENSIS. Pransurum te mecum post festa dixit mihi amicus ille noster, qui tibi vicinus est. Cùm statueris tecum quo die adfuturus es, id illi significabis. Me certè annis malisque debilitatum, quandocunque veneris, domi invenies. 6° Kal. Jan.1731. TRANSLATION. REVEREND AND MOST LEARNED SIR, WHEN I was informed by a friend who lives near you, that you were returned to Paris, I resolved to wait on you, as soon as my health would permit. After having been prevented by the gout for some time, I was in hopes at length of paying my respects to you at your house, and went thither, but found you not at home. It is incumbent on me, therefore, to do that in writing, which I could not in person, and for all the favours you have been pleased to confer upon me, to return you the warmest acknowledgments which, as I now feel, I shall ever continue to cherish. And indeed I esteem the books you have lately published, as presents of uncommon value, and such as do me very great honour. For I have the highest esteem, most excellent Sir, both for you, and for every thing that comes from so masterly a hand as yours, in the kind of learning of which you treat; in which I sincerely believe that you far excel all other writers, and are at the same time the best master both of In your frequent correspondence with Xenophon, you have certainly extracted from him, both what you relate in many places, and every where his very manner of relating; you seem not only to have imitated, but attained, the shining elegance and beautiful simplicity of that author's style: so that had Xenophon excelled in the French language, in my judgment, he would have used no other words, nor written in any other manner, upon the subjects you treat, than you have done. I do not say this out of flattery (which is far from being my vice,) but from my real sentiments and opinion. As you have enriched me with your handsome presents, which I know how incapable I am of repaying either in the same or in any other kind of learning, I was willing to testify my gratitude and affection for you, and at least to make you some small, though exceedingly unequal, return. Go on, most learned and venerable Sir, to deserve well of sound literature, which now lies universally neglected and despised. Go on, in forming the youth of France (since you will have their utility to be your sole view) upon the best precepts and examples. Which that you may effect, may it please God to add many years to your life, and during the course of them to preserve you in health and security. This is the earnest wish and prayer of, Your most faithful friend, P. S. Our friend, your neighbour, tells me you intend to dine with me after the holydays. When you have fixed upon the day, be pleased to let him know it. Whenever you come, you will be sure to find one so weak with age and sufferings, as I am, at home. December 26, 1731. CATALOGUE OF THE EDITIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL GREEK AUTHORS CITED IN THIS WORK. |