London, April 12, 1759.
Dear Sir,—I give you thanks for the agreeable present of your Theory. Wedderburn and I made presents of our copies to such of our acquaintances as we thought good judges, and proper to spread the reputation of the book. I sent one to the Duke of Argyle, to Lord Lyttelton, Horace Walpole, Soame Jenyns, and Burke an Irish gentleman, who wrote lately a very pretty Treatise on the Sublime.
Millar desired my permission to send one in your name to Dr. Warburton.
I have delayed writing to you, till I could tell you something of the success of the book, and could prognosticate, with some probability, whether it should be finally damned to oblivion, or should be registered in the temple of immortality. Though it has been published only a few weeks, I think there appear already such strong symptoms, that I can almost venture to foretell its fate. It is, in short, this——
But I have been interrupted in my letter by a foolish impertinent visit of one who has lately come from Scotland. He tells me that the University of Glasgow intend to declare Rouet's office vacant, upon his going abroad with Lord Hope. I question not but you will have our friend Ferguson in your eye, in case another project for procuring him a place in the University of Edinburgh should fail. Ferguson has very much polished and improved his Treatise on Refinement;[56:1] and with some amendments it will make an admirable book, and discovers an elegant and a singular genius. The Epigoniad, I hope, will do; but it is somewhat up-hill work. As I doubt not but you consult the Reviews sometimes at present, you will see in The Critical Review a letter upon that poem; and I desire you to employ your conjectures in finding out the author. Let me see a sample of your skill in knowing hands by your guessing at the person.[56:2]
I am afraid of Kames' "Law Tracts." A man might as well think of making a fine sauce by a mixture of wormwood and aloes, as an agreeable composition by joining metaphysics and Scottish law. However, the book, I believe, has merit; though few people will take the pains of inquiring into it. But to return to your book, and its success in this town, I must tell you——
A plague of interruptions! I ordered myself to be denied; and yet here is one that has broke in upon me again. He is a man of letters, and we have had a good deal of literary conversation. You told me, that you was curious of literary
anecdotes, and therefore I shall inform you of a few that have come to my knowledge. I believe I have mentioned to you already, Helvetius's book "De l'Esprit." It is worth your reading, not for its philosophy, which I do not highly value, but for its agreeable composition. I had a letter from him a few days ago, wherein he tells me that my name was much oftener in the manuscript, but that the censor of books at Paris obliged him to strike it out.
Voltaire has lately published a small work called Candide, ou, l'Optimisme . I shall give you a detail of it. But what is all this to my book, say you? My dear Mr. Smith, have patience: compose yourself to tranquillity; show yourself a philosopher in practice as well as profession: think on the emptiness, and rashness, and futility of the common judgments of men; how little they are regulated by reason in any subject, much more in philosophical subjects, which so far exceed the comprehension of the vulgar.
——Non si quid turbida Roma,