pure and simple sophist than any of the rest, but he is still a sophist.

There are perhaps no books in the world of any merit less read, than "Longus the Sophist's four Books of Pastorals concerning Daphnis and Chloe." It would be a humourous, but by no means a light penance, if the penitent were enjoined to wander about the land, until he could find some one to absolve him, who was acquainted with these four books. A certain scholar, who was, as sometimes happens, much admired by his own university in his day, and by no one else at any other time, upon being asked if he had read Longus, answered: "Longus! O yes, Longus. I know Longus; he wrote a book in queer, crampt, crabbed Greek. Į know Longus." The penitent himself, however foot-sore, could hardly satisfy his conscience with absolution pronounced in this form, at least if he had read one sentence of our author.

2

A learned man resembles the unlearned in nothing more (although the likeness is in many respects very striking) than in his unwillingness to say, I know nothing about the matter, even when this may be said without at all violating the truth.

In order to keep up this resemblance, some learned men have written that the Pastoralia, which are manifest prose, are in verse: and the editors of the Encyclopedia Britannica, by dividing the title of the book, have made it into two works they teach us, that "Longus is the author of a book entitled Pamenica, or Pastorals, and a romance, containing the loves of Daphnis and Chloe." A book-making trick, which we should hardly have looked for in the editors of an Encyclopedia.

In palliation of these, and of many other mistakes, which might be enumerated, it may be alleged that the book is

very scarce; that, although it may be met with in public libraries, it is rarely to be found in private hands. One, who affected the singularity of being the possessor of a copy, sought for it in vain in the catalogues of, at least, ten or twelve of the principal booksellers in London: one of them, however, it must be owned, had the book in his catalogue, although not in his library. An edition, printed at Leipsic in 1777, was at last procured, which shewed that this dearth prevailed as well on the Continent as in England; for the editor, M. B. G. L. Boden, a learned Professor of Poetry, complains that he had long been desirous to publish this book himself, but had sought in vain for a copy for that purpose: he tells us, that he formed that wish, because for a long period of time it had been recommended again and again to the common admiration of mankind by many learned men, whom he names. "Liber communi admirationi sat diu a Politianis, Muretis, Barthiis, Scaligeris, Trilleris, Christis, Hereliis, etiam atque etiam commendatus.”

From this scarcity we should hardly have supposed that there are nine or ten different editions in existence; but of some of them a small number of copies were printed; others were in an expensive form, and therefore probably their sale was very limited. A splendid edition published at Paris, with plates from designs by the Duke of Orleans, was of course expensive, and besides a few copies only were struck off.

The sight of a dear friend, who has been unexpectedly rescued from death, is delightful to the eyes, and the narrative of his escape is above all things interesting. Where shall we find more dear, more faithful friends, than the Greek writers? How many of them have perished miserably, even in sight of land (like some of their worshippers, who also carried away with them too large a portion of that scanty

remnant of virtue, which as yet remained to our poverty) and to what frightful hazards have most of the survivors been exposed, before the art of printing brought salvation to letters.

On this account few curiosities are more agreeable than the editio princeps of a Greek book. The first edition of Longus is extremely scarce. It is a small thin quarto, printed at Florence, in 1598, or, as it is expressed in the title-page, and, as far as respects the numerals, somewhat quaintly, "Florentia, apud Philippum Junctam M DIIC." As is commonly the case with these primitive productions, its simplicity is uncorrupted by the impurities of a Latin translation, and it has only a few notes at the end, and a short dedicatory preface by Raphael Columbanius. The prefaces of first editions must always be read with interest, as they contain a public acknowledgment of that superior excellence in the author, which induced some meritorious persons, always at a considerable expense, and too often with a great loss, to secure to us, by means of the press, the perpetual possession of inestimable treasures. It may be worth while, therefore, to hear what reasons Columbanius has to offer for saving the life of the sweetest of writers; they are these: "Having myself attentively read the Pastorals of Longus, and having also persuaded several learned men to read them, the author seemed so delightful to all of us, as well on account of the purity and elegance of his language, as of the gaiety of his subject, that we could not help thinking we should be guilty of no small offence, if we did not all in our: power to prevent such a work remaining any longer in con cealment: more especially as I well knew that many scholars were most anxious that it should be published.”".

“Quæ cum diligenter legissem, et cum doctis sanè viris lectionem illam communicâssem, ita nobis arridere cœpit hic auctor,

tum ob sermonis puritatem atque elegantiam, tum ob materiæ festivitatem, ut prope facinus nos admissuros fuisse duxerimus si (quantum in nobis esset) hujusmodi opus diutius in tenebris delitesceret: præser tim, cum scirem illud a studiosis vehementer desiderari."

Another specimen of the editions, of which only a limited number of copies were printed, is a neat little volume in 12mo., equally undefiled by Latin or disfigured by notes, the pages of which are ruled with bright red lines, like a Prayer-book or Testament. The benevolent reader is addressed in a short preface by Lud. Dutens, who ungenerously printed at Paris, in 1776, only 200 copies, but generously distributed 100 of these to his private friends.

Another of the expensive class is a quarto, beautifully printed at Parma, in the luscious types of Bodoni.

There is an old translation into English, and one more modern (London, 1804, 12mo.) by Mr. Le Grice; the old French translation by Amyot, is much esteemed; and there are two, or three, into Italian.

Some elegant examples from Longus are introduced in "A Grammar of the Greek Tongue on a New Plan," which Mr. Jones has contrived to make an amusing book, although a grammar; and he has also contrived, which is no common merit in a grammar, to be abused by the Quarterly Review, the rule of right, by which we, the people of England, at present form our taste and our morals; together with some little assistance from certain Annual Journals and Daily Annals; for by such congruous names these great masters of language designate their oracular volumes.

Of many of the ancients but little is known; of Longus literally nothing; even Bayle, who can tell us every thing about every body, can tell us nothing about him. It is highly creditable to the Sophist, that we find nothing about

himself in his book; this savours of honest antiquity, when a man, who undertook to write of Daphnis and Chloe, could keep faith, and actually write of them and of them only; whereas we moderns discourse about ourselves, our wives, our digestion, our own narrow notions concerning politics or religion, about any thing, in short, but our subject. A

Nor do any of his contemporaries, if he ever had any, which is by no means clear, give us any account of him: from this general silence (unless we suppose that he inhabited the world alone, in which case he could not do any great mischief) we may infer with tolerable certainty, that he must have been an excellent man; because we may be sure that his neighbours would not have proclaimed his virtues, or have been so unneighbourly as to have kept silence respecting his faults, or even his weaknesses, if he had

any.

But commentators must needs comment upon every thing; they can permit nothing to rest in peace, not even the me mory of the dead. There is one incredible thing,-more in credible than all that is contained in Palæphatus, who wrote a book expressly concerning incredible things,-and that is, the indefatigable industry with which these men have brought together, for the sole purpose of blocking up the paths to knowledge, huge masses of rubbish, in comparison with which the pyramids of Egypt shrink into insignificance.

Let us hear, in a few words, what Peter Moll, a Doctor of Laws and a Professor of Greek, narrates at some length in an edition of Longus, published by himself, in 1660, with some of these learned notes: and it is no very aggravated instance of one of the incursions of those barbarians, by which the republic of letters has taken so much detriment.

He boasts that, after much research, he has been so fortu