tedious to name.”  Lentulus, however, was but a subordinate officer; for we are informed afterwards, that the Romans had made Sextus Pompeius lord high admiral in all the seas of their dominions.  Among other affectations of this writer, is a furious and unnecessary zeal for liberty; or rather, for one form of government as preferable to another.  This, indeed, might be suffered, because political institution is a subject in which men have always differed, and, if they continue to obey their lawful governours, and attempt not to make innovations, for the sake of their favourite schemes, they may differ for ever, without any just reproach from one another.  But who can bear the hardy champion, who ventures nothing? who, in full security, undertakes the defence of the assassination of Cassar, and declares his resolution to speak plain?  Yet let not just sentiments be overlooked:  he has justly observed, that the greater part of mankind will be naturally prejudiced against Brutus, for all feel the benefits of private friendship; but few can discern the advantages of a well-constituted government [3].

We know not whether some apology may not be necessary for the distance between the first account of this book and its continuation.  The truth is, that this work, not being forced upon our attention by much publick applause or censure, was sometimes neglected, and sometimes forgotten; nor would it, perhaps, have been now resumed, but that we might avoid to disappoint our readers by an abrupt desertion of any subject.

It is not our design to criticise the facts of this history, but the style; not the veracity, but the address of the writer; for, an account of the ancient Romans, as it cannot nearly interest any present reader, and must be drawn from writings that have been long known, can owe its value only to the language in which it is delivered, and the reflections with which it is accompanied.  Dr. Blackwell, however, seems to have heated his imagination, so as to be much affected with every event, and to believe that he can affect others.  Enthusiasm is, indeed, sufficiently contagious; but I never found any of his readers much enamoured of the glorious Pompey, the patriot approv’d, or much incensed against the lawless Caesar, whom this author, probably, stabs every day and night in his sleeping or waking dreams.

He is come too late into the world with his fury for freedom, with his Brutus and Cassius.  We have all, on this side of the Tweed, long since settled our opinions:  his zeal for Roman liberty and declamations against the violators of the republican constitution, only stand now in the reader’s way, who wishes to proceed in the narrative without the interruption of epithets and exclamations.  It is not easy to forbear laughter at a man so bold in fighting shadows, so busy in a dispute two thousand years past, and so zealous for the honour of a people, who, while they were poor, robbed mankind, and, as soon as they became rich, robbed one another.  Of these robberies our author seems to have no very quick sense, except when they are committed by Caesar’s party, for every act is sanctified by the name of a patriot.