a fairy tale, I should have swallowed it eagerly; but do you imagine, Sir, that, idle as I am, I am idiot enough to think that Sir Isaac had better have amused me for half an hour, than enlightened mankind and all ages? I was so fair as to confess to you that your work was above me, and did not divert me you was too candid to take that ill, and must have been content with silently thinking me very silly; and I am too candid to condemn any man for thinking of me as I deserve. I am only sorry when I do deserve a disadvantageous character. Nay, Sir, you condescend, after all, to ask my opinion of the best way of treating antiquities; and by the context, I suppose, you mean, how to make them entertaining. I cannot answer you in one word; because there are two ways, as there are two sorts of readers. I should therefore say, to please antiquaries of judgment, as you have treated them, with arguments and proofs; but, if you would adapt antiquities to the taste of those who read only to be diverted, not to be instructed, the nostrum is very easy and short. You must divert them in the true sense of the word diverto -you must turn them out of the way-you must treat them with digressions nothing or very little to the purpose. But, easy as I call this recipe, you, I believe, would find it more difficult to execute than the indefatigable industry you have employed to penetrate chaos and extract the truth. There have been professors who have engaged to adapt all kinds of knowledge to the meanest capacities. I doubt their success, at least on me however, you need not despair; all readers are not as dull and superannuated as, dear Sir, Yours, &c. THE HON. HORACE WALPOLE TO MR. PINKERTON. Strawberry Hill, Aug. 19th, 1789. I will not use many words, but enough, I hope, to convince you that I meant no irony in my last. All I said of you and myself was very sincere. It is my true opinion that your understanding is one of the strongest, most manly, and clearest I ever knew; and, as I hold my own to be of a very inferior kind, and know it to be incapable of sound, deep application, I should have been very foolish, if I had attempted to sneer at you or your pursuits. Mine have always been light and trifling, and tended to nothing but my casual amusement; I will not say, without a little vain ambition of showing some parts; but never with industry sufficient to make me apply them to any thing solid. My studies, if they could be called so, and my productions, were alike desultory. In my latter age, I discovered the futility both of my objects and writings: I felt how insignificant is the reputation of an author of mediocrity; and that, being no genius, I only added one name more to a list of writers that had told the world nothing but what it could as well be without. Those reflections were the best proofs of my sense; and, when I could see through my own vanity, there is less wonder at my discovering that such talents as I might have had, are impaired at seventy-two. Being just to myself, I am not such a coxcomb as to be unjust to you. No, nor did I cover any irony towards you, in the opinion I gave you of the way of making deep writings palatable to the mass of readers. Examine my words; and I am sure you will find that, if there was any thing ironic in my meaning, it was levelled at your readers, not at you. It is my opinion that whoever wishes to be read by many, if his subject is weighty and solid, must treat the majority with more than is to his purpose. Do not you believe that twenty name Lucretius, because of the poetic commencement of his books, for five that wade through his philosophy? I promised to say but little; and if I have explained myself clearly, I have said enough. It is not, I hope, my character to be a flatterer: I do most sincerely think you capable of great things; and I should be a pitiful knave if I told you so, unless it was my opinion; and what end could it serve to me? Your course is but beginning; mine is almost terminated. I do not want you to throw a few daisies on my grave; and, if you make the figure I augur you will, I shall not be a witness to it. Adieu, dear Sir. MR. DEMPSTER TO MR. PINKERTON. Perth, Aug. 20th, 1789. Though your book has been my only companion on a three weeks' journey to Scotland, and though I have read some parts of it over a score of times, yet I am not qualified to make any observations on it worthy your attention; for I have not as yet read it all over twice. The intention of this, therefore, is merely to convey to you a whimsical idea, which never before, I dare say, occurred to any body. You mention a Gallia braccata, or the breech'd Gauls. Did it never occur to you that the other race might be called Celtic or Keltic Gauls, from their wearing, instead of breeches, a piece of dress, called at this day the kelt or philabeg? This last is not the name, but description of the dress, short petticoat; whereas kelt is really the name. I cannot conclude without saying that every new perusal of your book gives me more and more. reason to admire the learning and accuracy of its author. MR. DEMPSTER TO MR. PINKERTON. Dunnichen, near Forfar, I am favored with yours, and could not help smiling at finding my nonsense of kelt had en tered your brain as well as mine, but been condemned, as it deserved, by your juster judgment. But is the Gothicism of the word a good reason? for braccata, or breeched, is also Gothic. The argument from the dress is more conclusive; and it is an anecdote respecting that, which occasions you thus early trouble, lest it should escape my memory. The Rev. Mr. Mason, our minister here, told me, on my reading that part of your letter, that Mr. Ferguson, the brother of the professor, had told him that his father, minister of Mulmearn, which lies in the direct line of the rebels' march, in the rebellion 1715, told him that he had heard him often say, that those Highlanders who joined the Pretender from the most remote parts of the Highlands, were not dressed in party-colored tartans, and had neither plaid nor philabeg; but that their whole dress consisted of what we call a Polonian or closish coat, descending below midleg, buttoned from the throat to the belly, and, below that, secured, for modesty's sake, with a lace till towards the bottom. That it was of one color and home-made, and that they had no shirt, shoes, stockings nor breeches. It would be curious if this should coincide with your French print. I rejoice you have begun the less irksome part of your task; and hope it will soon see the light; for I have long been sick of the history of monks, pedants, and party-men. Lord Hailes's work afforded me the first relief from them; and yours will, I hope, leave me nothing to wish for. I must take a good while to |