this to allure the student from the necessary branch-employed human attention; and, instead of rees of learning, and, if I may so express it, entirely quiring a writer's aid, will even support him with to engross his industry. What is here offered, his splendour. The Empire of the World, rising therefore, may be sufficient for all, except such from the meanest origin, and growing great by a who make history the peculiar business of their strict veneration for religion, and an implicit conlives: to such, the most tedious narrative will seem fidence in its commanders; continually changing but an abridgment, as they measure the merits of the mode, but seldom the spirit of its government; a work, rather by the quantity than the quality of being a constitution, in which the military power, its contents: others, however, who think more so- whether under the name of citizens or soldiers, alberly, will agree, that in so extensive a field as that of the transactions of Rome, more judgment may be shown by selecting what is important than by adding what is obscure.

The history of this empire has been extended to six volumes folio; and I aver, that, with very little learning, it might be increased to sixteen more; but what would this be, but to load the subject with unimportant facts, and so to weaken the narration, that, like the empire described, it must necessarily sink beneath the weight of its own acquisitions.

most always prevailed; adopting all the improvements of other nations with the most indefatigable industry, and submitting to be taught by those whom it afterwards subdued-this is a picture that must affect us, however it be disposed; these materials must have their value, under the hand of the meanest workman.

THE PREFACE

TO THE

HISTORY OF ENGLAND

BY DR. GOLDSMITH,

[First printed in 1771.]

But while I thus endeavoured to avoid prolixity, it was found no easy matter to prevent crowding the facts, and to give every narrative its proper play. In reality, no art can contrive to avoid opposite defects; he who indulges in minute particu- FROM the favourable reception given to my larities will be often languid; and he who studies abridgment of Roman History, published some conciseness will as frequently be dry and unenter- time since, several friends, and others whose busitaining. As it was my aim to comprise as much ness leads them to consult the wants of the public, as possible in the smallest compass, it is feared the have been induced to suppose, that an English work will often be subject to the latter imputation; History, written on the same plan, would be acbut it was impossible to furnish the public with a ceptable. cheap Roman History in two volumes octavo, and at the same time to give all that warmth to the narrative, all those colourings to the description, which works of twenty times the bulk have room to exhibit. I shall be fully satisfied, therefore, if| it furnishes an interest sufficient to allure the reader to the end; and this is a claim to which few abridgments can justly make pretensions.

To these objections there are some who may add, that I have rejected many of the modern improvements in Roman History, and that every character is left in full possession of that fame or infamy which it obtained from its contemporaries, or those who wrote immediately after.

I acknowledge the charge, for it appears now too late to rejudge the virtues or the vices of those men, who were but very incompletely known even to their own historians. The Romans, perhaps, upon many occasions, formed wrong ideas of virtue; but they were by no means so ignorant or abandoned in general, as not to give to their brightest characters the greatest share of their applause; and I do not know whether it be fair to try Pagan actions by the standard of Christian morality.

It was their opinion, that we still wanted a work of this kind, where the narrative, though very concise, is not totally without interest, and the facts, though crowded, are yet distinctly seen.

The business of abridging the works of others has hitherto fallen to the lot of very dull men; and the art of blotting, which an eminent critic calls the most difficult of all others, has been usually practised by those who found themselves unable to write. Hence our abridgments are generally more tedious than the works from which they pretend to relieve us; and they have effectually embarrassed that road which they laboured to shorten.

As the present compiler starts with such humble competitors, it will scarcely be thought vanity in him if he boasts himself their superior. Of the many abridgments of our own history, hitherto published, none seems possessed of any share of merit or reputation; some have been written in dialogue, or merely in the stiffness of an index, and some to answer the purposes of a party. A very small share of taste, therefore, was sufficient to keep the compiler from the defects of the one, and a very small share of philosophy from the misrepre

But whatever may be my execution of this sentations of the other. work, I have very little doubt about the success of It is not easy, however, to satisfy the different the undertaking: the subject is the noblest that ever expectations of mankind in a work of this kind,

calculated for every apprehension, and on which goes; and it is but justice to say, that wherever. all are consequently capable of forming some judg-was obliged to abridge his work, I did it with re ment. Some may say that it is too long to pass luctance, as I scarcely cut out a single line that did under the denomination of an abridgment; and not contain a beauty.

others, that it is too dry to be admitted as a history;| But though I must warmly subscribe to the learnit may be objected, that reflection is almost entirelying, elegance, and depth of Mr. Hume's history, banished to make room for facts, and yet, that yet I can not entirely acquiesce in his principles. many facts are wholly omitted, which might be With regard to religion, he seems desirous of playnecessary to be known. It must be confessed, that ing a double part, of appearing to some readers as all those objections are partly true; for it is impos- if he reverenced, and to others as if he ridiculed it. sible in the same work at once to attain contrary He seems sensible of the political necessity of religion advantages. The compiler, who is stinted in room, in every state; but at the same time, he would every must often sacrifice interest to brevity; and on the where insinuate that it owes its authority to no other hand, while he endeavours to amuse, must higher an origin. Thus he weakens its influence, frequently transgress the limits to which his plan should confine him. Thus, all such as desire only amusement may be disgusted with his brevity; and such as seek for information may object to his displacing facts for empty description.

while he contends for its utility; and vainly hopes, that while free-thinkers shall applaud his scepti cism, real believers will reverence him for his zeal. In his opinions respecting government, perhaps also he may sometimes be reprehensible; but in a To attain the greatest number of advantages country like ours, where mutual contention conwith the fewest inconveniences, is all that can be tributes to the security of the constitution, it will attained in an abridgment, the name of which im- be impossible for an historian who attempts to plies imperfection. It will be sufficient, therefore, have any opinion to satisfy all parties. It is not to satisfy the writer's wishes, if the present work yet decided in politics, whether the diminution of be found a plain, unaffected narrative of facts, with kingly power in England tends to increase the just ornament enough to keep attention awake, happiness or the freedom of the people. For my and with reflection barely sufficient to set the read-own part, from seeing the bad effects of the tyraner upon thinking. Very moderate abilities were ny of the great in those republican states that preequal to such an undertaking, and it is hoped the tend to be free, I can not help wishing that our performance will satisfy such as take up books to monarchs may still be allowed to enjoy the power be informed or amused, without much considering of controlling the encroachments of the great at who the writer is, or envying any success he may home. have had in a former compilation.

A king may easily be restrained from doing As the present publication is designed for the wrong, as he is but one man; but if a number of benefit of those who intend to lay a foundation for the great are permitted to divide all authority, who future study, or desire to refresh their memories can punish them if they abuse it? Upon this princiupon the old, or who think a moderate share of his-ple, therefore, and not from empty notions of divine tory sufficient for the purposes of life, recourse has or hereditary right, some may think I have leaned been had only to those authors which are best towards monarchy. But as, in the things I have known, and those facts only have been selected hitherto written, I have neither allured the vanity which are allowed on all hands to be true. Were of the great by flattery, nor satisfied the malignity an epitome of history the field for displaying erudition, the author could show that he has read many books which others have neglected, and that he also could advance many anecdotes which are at present very little known. But it must be remembered, that all these minute recoveries could be inserted only to the exclusion of more material facts, which it would he unpardonable to omit. He foregoes, therefore, the petty ambition of being thought a reader of forgotten books; his aim being not to add to our present stock of history, but to contract it.

of the vulgar by scandal, as I have endeavoured to get an honest reputation by liberal pursuits, it is hoped the reader will admit my impartiality.

THE PREFACE

ΤΟ Α

HISTORY OF THE EARTH

AND

ANIMATED NATURE.

BY DR. GOLDSMITH.

[First printed in the year 1774.]

The books which have been used in this abridgment are chiefly Rapin, Carte, Smollett, and Hume. They have each their peculiar admirers, in proportion as the reader is studious of historical antiquities, fond of minute anecdote, a warm par- NATURAL HISTORY, considered in its utmost extisan or a deliberate reasoner. Of these I have tent, comprehends two objects. First, that of disparticularly taken Hume for my guide, as far as he covering, ascertaining, and naming all the various

productions of nature. Secondly, that of describ- history may, in some measure, be compared to a ing the properties, manners, and relations, which dictionary of words. Both are solely intended to they bear to us, and to each other. The first, explain the names of things; but with this differwhich is the most difficult part of the science, is ence, that in the dictionary of words, we are led systematical, dry, mechanical, and incomplete. The from the name of the thing to its definition, wheresecond is more amusing, exhibits new pictures to as, in the system of natural history, we are led the imagination, and improves our relish for exist- from the definition to find out the name. ence, by widening the prospect of nature around

US.

Such are the efforts of writers, who have composed their works with great labour and ingenuity, to direct the learner in his progress through nature, and to inform him of the name of every animal, plant, or fossil substance, that he happens to meet with; but it would be only deceiving the reader to conceal the truth, which is, that books

Both, however, are necessary to those who would understand this pleasing science in its utmost extent. The first care of every inquirer, no doubt, should be, to see, to visit, and examine every object, before he pretends to inspect its habitudes or its history. From seeing and observing the thing alone can never teach him this art in perfection; itself, he is most naturally led to speculate upon and the solitary student can never succeed. Withits uses, its delights, or its inconveniences. out a master, and a previous knowledge of many Numberless obstructions, however, are found in of the objects in nature, his this part of his pursuit, that frustrate his diligence confound and disgust him.

book will only serve to Few of the individual

and retard his curiosity. The objects in nature plants or animals that he may happen to meet are so many, and even those of the same kind are with are in that precise state of health, or that exexhibited in such a variety of forms, that the in- act period of vegetation, whence their descriptions quirer finds himself lost in the exuberance before were taken. Perhaps he meets the plant only him, and, like a man who attempts to count the with leaves, but the systematic writer has described stars unassisted by art, his powers are all distracted it in flower. Perhaps he meets the bird before it in barren superfluity. has moulted its first feathers, while the systematic

To remedy this embarrassment, artificial systems description was made in the state of full perfection. have been devised, which, grouping into masses He thus ranges without an instructor, confused those parts of nature more nearly resembling each and with sickening curiosity, from subject to subother, refer the inquirer for the name of the single ject, till at last he gives up the pursuit in the mulobject he desires to know, to some one of those tiplicity of his disappointments. Some practice, general distributions where it is to be found by fur- therefore, much instruction, and diligent reading, ther examination. If, for instance, a man should are requisite to make a ready and expert naturalin his walks meet with an animal, the name, and ist, who shall be able, even by the help of a sysconsequently the history of which he desires to tem, to find out the name of every object he meets know, he is taught by systematic writers of natural with. But when this tedious, though requisite history to examine its most obvious qualities, wheth- part of study is attained, nothing but delight and er a quadruped, a bird, a fish, or an insect. Having variety attend the rest of his journey. Wherever determined it, for explanation sake, to be an insect, he travels, like a man in a country where he has he examines whether it has wings; if he finds it many friends, he meets with nothing but acquaintpossessed of these, he is taught to examine whether ances and allurements in all the stages of his way. it has two or four; if possessed of four, he is taught The mere uninformed spectator passes on in gloomy to observe, whether the two upper wings are of a solitude, but the naturalist, in every plant, in every shelly hardness, and serve as cases to those under insect, and every pebble, finds something to enterthem; if he finds the wings composed in this man- tain his curiosity, and excite his speculation. ner, he is then taught to pronounce, that this in

Hence it appears, that a system may be consect is one of the beetle kind: of the beetle kind sidered as a dictionary in the study of nature. The there are three different classes, distinguished from ancients, however, who have all written most deeach other by their feelers; he examines the insect lightfully on this subject, seem entirely to have rebefore him, and finds that the feelers are elevated | jected those humble and mechanical helps of scion knobbed at the ends; of beetles, with feelers ence. They contented themselves with seizing thus formed, there are ten kinds, and among those, upon the great outlines of history; and passing over he is taught to look for the precise name of that what was common, as not worth the detail, they which is before him. If, for instance, the knob be only dwelt upon what was new, great, and surdivided at the ends, and the belly be streaked with prising, and sometimes even warmed the imaginawhite, it is no other than the Dor or the May-bug, tion at the expense of truth. Sua of the moderns an animal, the noxious qualities of which give it a as revived this science in Europe, undertook the very distinguished rank in the history of the insect task more methodically, though not in a manner creation. In this manner, a system of natural so pleasing. Aldrovandus, Gesner, and Jonston,

seemed desirous of uniting the entertaining and late spent much time, great pains, and some learn. rich descriptions of the ancients with the dry and ing, all to very little purpose, in systematic arrangesystematic arrangement of which they were the ment, he seems so much disgusted by their trifling, first projectors. This attempt, however, was ex-but ostentatious efforts, that he describes his anitremely imperfect, as the great variety of nature mals almost in the order they happen to come bewas, as yet, but very inadequately known. Never-fore him. theless, by attempting to carry on both objects at once; first, of directing us to the name of the thing, and then giving the detail of its history, they drew out their works into a tedious and unreasonable length; and thus mixing incompatible aims, they have left their labours rather to be occasionally has gone, I have taken him for my guide. The consulted, than read with delight by posterity.

This want of method seems to be a fauit, but he can lose little by a criticism which every dull man can make, or by an error in arrangement, from which the dullest are the most usually free. In other respects, as far as this able philosopher

warmth of his style, and the brilliancy of his imagiThe later moderns, with that good sense which nation, are inimitable. Leaving him, therefore, they have carried into every other part of science, without a rival in these, and only availing myself have taken a different method in cultivating na- of his information, I have been content to describe tural history. They have been content to give, things in my own way, and though many of the not only the brevity, but also the dry and disgusting materials are taken from him, yet I have added, reair of a dictionary to their systems. Ray, Klein, trenched, and altered, as I thought proper. It was Brisson, and Linnæus, have had only one aim, my intention, at one time, whenever I differed that of pointing out the object in nature, of discov- from him, to have mentioned it at the bottom of ering its name, and where it was to be found in the page; but this occurred so often, that I soon those authors that treated of it in a more prolix and found it would look like envy, and might, perhaps, satisfactory manner. Thus, natural history, at convict me of those very errors which I was wantpresent, is carried on in two distinct and separate ing to lay upon him. channels, the one serving to lead us to the thing, the other conveying the history of the thing, as supposing it already known.

I have, therefore, as being every way his debtor, concealed my dissent, where my opinion was different; but wherever I borrow from him, I take care The following natural history is written with at the bottom of the page to express my obligaonly such an attention to system as serves to re- tions. But, though my obligations to this writer move the reader's embarrassments, and allure him are many, they extend but to the smallest part of to proceed. It can make no pretensions in direct- the work, as he has hitherto completed only the ing him to the name of every object he meets with; history of quadrupeds. I was, therefore, left to that belongs to works of a very different kind, and my reading alone, to make out the history of birds, written with very different aims. It will fully fishes, and insects, of which the arrangement was answer my design, if the reader, being already so difficult, and the necessary information so widepossessed of the name of any animal, shall find ly diffused, and so obscurely related when found, here a short, though satisfactory history of its habi- that it proved by much the most laborious part of tudes, its subsistence, its manners, its friendships, the undertaking. Thus, having made use of M. and hostilities. My aim has been to carry on just Buffon's lights in the first part of this work, I may, as much method as was sufficient to shorten my with some share of confidence, recommend it to the descriptions by generalizing them, and never to public. But what shall I say of that part, where follow order where the art of writing, which is but I have been entirely left without his assistance? another name for good sense, informed me that it As I would affect neither modesty nor confidence, would only contribute to the reader's embarrass- it will be sufficient to say, that my reading upon this part of the subject has been very extensive;

ment.

The

Still, however, the reader will perceive, that I and that I have taxed my scanty circumstances in have formed a kind of system in the history of procuring books, which are on this subject, of all every part of animated nature, directing myself by others, the most expensive. In consequence of the great and obvious distinctions that she herself this industry, I here offer a work to the public, of seems to have made, which, though too few to a kind which has never been attempted in ours, on point exactly to the name, are yet sufficient to il- any other modern language that I know of. luminate the subject, and remove the reader's per- ancients, indeed, and Pliny in particular, have anplexity. M. Buffon, indeed, who has brought ticipated me in the present manner of treating nagreater talents to this part of learning than any tural history. Like those historians who described other man, has almost entirely rejected method in the events of a campaign, they have not condeclassing quadrupeds. This, with great deference scended to give the private particulars of every into such a character, appears to me running into the dividual that formed the army; they were content opposite extreme; and, as some moderns have of with characterising the generals, and describing

their operations, while they left it to meaner hands choose for themselves; for persons whose profesto carry the muster-roll. I have followed their sions turn them to different pursuits, or who, not manner, rejecting the numerous fables which they yet arrived at sufficient maturity, require a guide adopted, and adding the improvements of the mod- to direct their application. To our youth, particuerns, which are so numerous, that they actually larly, a publication of this sort may be useful; make up the bulk of natural history. since, if compiled with any share of judgment, it The delight which I found in reading Pliny, may at once unite precept and example, show them first inspired me with the idea of a work of this what is beautiful, and inform them why it is so; nature. Having a taste rather classical than sci- I therefore offer this, to the best of my judgment, entific, and having but little employed myself in as the best collection that has as yet appeared; turning over the dry labours of modern system- though, as tastes are various, numbers will be of a makers, my earliest intention was to translate this very different opinion. Many, perhaps, may wish agreeable writer, and, by the help of a commentary, to see it in the poems of their favourite authors, to make my work as amusing as I could. Let us others may wish that I had selected from works less dignify natural history ever so much with the generally read, and others still may wish that I had grave appellation of a useful science, yet still we selected from their own. But my design was to must confess, that it is the occupation of the idle give a useful, unaffected compilation; one that and the speculative, more than of the ambitious might tend to advance the reader's taste, and not part of mankind. My intention was to treat what impress him with exalted ideas of mine. Nothing I then conceived to be an idle subject, in an idle is so common, and yet so absurd, as affectation in manner; and not to hedge round plain and simple criticism. The desire of being thought to have a narrative with hard words, accumulated distinc more discerning taste than others, has often led tions, ostentatious learning, and disquisitions that writers to labour after error, and to be foremost in produced no conviction. Upon the appearance, promoting deformity. however, of M. Buffon's work, I dropped my former plan and adopted the present, being convinced by his manner, that the best imitation of the ancients was to write from our own feelings, and to imitate nature.

It will be my chief pride, therefore, if this work may be found an innocent amusement for those who have nothing else to employ them, or who require a relaxation from labour. Professed naturalists will, no doubt, find it superficial; and yet I should hope, that even these will discover hints and remarks, gleaned from various reading, not wholly trite or elementary; I would wish for their approbation. But my chief ambition is to drag up the obscure and gloomy learning of the cell to open inspecion; to strip it from its garb of austerity, and snow the beauties of that form, which only the naustrious and the inquisitive have been hith rmitted to approach.

In this compilation, I run but few risks of that kind; every poem here is well known, and possessed, or the public has been long mistaken, of peculiar merit; every poem has, as Aristotle expresses it, a |beginning, a middle, and an end, in which, however trifling the rule may seem, most of the poetry in our language is deficient. I claim no merit in the choice, as it was obvious, for in all languages best productions are most easily found. As to the short introductory criticisms to each poem, they are rather designed for boys than men; for it will be seen that I declined all refinement, satisfied with being obvious and sincere. In short, if this work be useful in schools, or amusing in the closet, the merit all belongs to others; I have nothing to boast, and at best can expect, not applause but pardon. OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

PREFACE

TO THE

LEAUTIES OF ENGLISH POETRY.

[First printed in the year 1767.] My bookseller having informed me that there vas no collection of English Poetry among us, of any estimation, I thought a few hours spent in making a proper selection would not be ill bestowed.

THE RAPE OF THE LOCK.

This seems to be Mr. Pope's most finished production, and is, perhaps, the most perfect in our language. It exhibits stronger powers of imagination, more harmony of numbers, and a greater knowledge of the world than any other of this poet's works; and it is probable, if our country were called upon to show a specimen of their genius to foreigners, this would be the work fixed upon.

IL PENSEROSO.

Compilations of this kind are chiefly designed I have heard a very judicious critic say, that he for such as either want leisure, skill, or fortune, to had a higher idea of Milton's style in poetry, from