“He confesses that tropes and figures of composition, as they are a deviation from the principles of metaphysics and logic, are frequently vicious.”

You add, “If this be a fair representation, it were to be wished that the learned author had so far condescended to men of confined abilities, as to explain the connexion between these two propositions[160].”

As the learned author, I guess, may be better employed than in this unnecessary task, which you wish to impose upon him, I have taken upon me to discharge that office, with less able hands; and, yet, have explained the connexion between these two propositions in such sort, that, if I mistake not, we shall never hear more from you, of any inconsistency between them.

I have NOW, Sir, gone through the several particulars of your Dissertation, and have shewn, I think, clearly and invincibly, that all your objections to the Bishop’s paradoxical sentiments on the subject of Eloquence are mistaken and wholly groundless.

The TWO propositions his Lordship took upon him to confute, 1. That an inspired language must needs be a language of perfect eloquence; and, 2. That eloquence is something congenial and essential to human speech, and inherent in the constitution of things: These two propositions, I say, are so thoroughly confuted by the Bishop, that not one word of all you say in any degree affects his reasoning, or supports those two propositions against the force of it. I am even candid enough to believe that, on further thoughts, you will not yourself be displeased with this ill success of your attack on the learned Prelate’s principles; which are manifestly calculated for the service of religion and the honour of inspired scripture. For, though you attempt to shew us in your two last chapters, how the honour of inspired scripture may be saved on other principles, yet allow me to say that, for certain reasons, I much question the validity of those principles; at least, that the persons, most concerned in this controversy, will by no means subscribe to them. If there be an Archetype of eloquence in nature, ‘one should be apt enough, as the Bishop says, to conclude, that when the Author of nature condescended to inspire one of these plastic performances of human art, he would make it by the exactest pattern of the Archetype[161].’ Or, whatever you and I and the Bishop might conclude, assure yourself that the objectors to inspired scripture will infallibly draw that conclusion. And, when they do so, and fortify themselves, besides, with the authority of so great a master of eloquence, as yourself, it will be in vain, I doubt, to oppose to them your ingenious harangues and encomiums on the eloquent composition of the sacred scriptures. Nay, it would give you, no doubt, some pain to find that, though they should accept your authority for the truth of their favourite principle of there being an Archetype in nature of perfect eloquence, they would yet reject your harangues and encomiums with that disdain which is so natural to them. The honour of sacred scripture will then hang on a question of Taste: and unluckily the objectors are of such authority in that respect, that there is no appeal from their decisions of it.

The contemplation of these inconveniencies, together with the love of truth, determined me to hazard this address to you. I will not deny, besides, that the mere justice due to a great character, whom I found somewhat freely, not to say injuriously treated by you, was also, one motive with me. If I add still another, it is such as I need not disown, and which you, of all men, will be the last to object to, I mean a motive of Charity towards yourself.

I am much a stranger to your person, and, what it may perhaps be scarce decent for me to profess to you, even to your writings. All I know of YOURSELF, is, what your book tells me, that you are distinguished by an honourable place and office in the University of Dublin: and what I have heared of your WRITINGS, makes me think favourably of a private scholar, who, they say, employs himself in such works of learning and taste, as are proper to instill a reverence into young minds for the best models of ancient eloquence. While you are thus creditably stationed, and thus usefully employed, I could not but feel some concern for the hurt you were likely to do yourself by engaging in so warm and so unnecessary an opposition to a writer, as you characterize him, of distinguished eminence[162]. Time was, when even with us on this side the water, the novelty of this writer’s positions, and the envy, which ever attends superior merit, disposed some warm persons to open, and prosecute with many hard words, the unpopular cry against him, of his being a bold and PARADOXICAL writer. But reflexion and experience have quieted this alarm. Men of sense and judgment now consider his Paradoxes as very harmless, nay as very sober and certain truths; and even vye with each other in their zeal of building upon them, as the surest basis, on which a just and rational vindication of our common religion can be raised. This is the present state of things with us, and especially, they say, in the Universities of this kingdom.

It was, therefore, not without some surprize, and, as I said, with much real concern, that I found a gentleman of learning and education revive, at such a juncture, that stale and worn-out topic, and disgrace himself by propagating this clamour, of I know not what paradoxical boldness, now long out of date, in the much-approved writings of this great Prelate. Nor was the dishonour to yourself, the only circumstance to be lamented. You were striving, with all your might, to infuse prejudices into the minds of many ingenious and virtuous young men; whom you would surely be sorry to mislead; and who would owe you little thanks for prepossessing them with unfavourable sentiments of such a man and writer, as the Bishop of Gloucester, they will find, is generally esteemed to be.

These, then, were the considerations, which induced me to employ an hour or two of leisure in giving your book a free examination. I have done it in as few words as possible, and in a manner which no reasonable and candid man, I persuade myself, will disapprove. I know what apologies may be requisite to the learned Bishop for a stranger’s engaging in this officious task. But to you, Sir, I make none: It is enough if any benefits to yourself or others may be derived from it.

I am, with respect, &c.