University of Virginia Library

Nor, in lamenting the havock, which Death hath triumphantly made (continued Genius) in the letter'd generation, can Hawkesworth, be forgotten: A name which is particularly endear'd to me, by the affection which its owner bore to virtue and to science. Every stroke of his pen, corresponding with every idea in his mind, however playful, or however pathetic, always terminated in the most useful knowledge: that knowledge which might regulate the conduct of life, or afford tranquillity and quietude at the hour of expiration. The ardour which uniformly animated his endeavours, gave constant vigour to his thought, activity to his powers, and dignity to his sentiment: Nor did his excellence arise so


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much from the ambition which panted after fame, and aim'd at popularity—which apppeal'd to the acclamations of the mob, or sought the distinctions of this world; as from the hearty hope of contributing, in whatever degree, to the investigation of truth, the amendment of manners, and the rectitude of the mind. Of those who have acquir'd a literary immortality, there are few who could dispute with my Hawkesworth, strength of sense, or elevation of expression; and still fewer have given to the world so valuable, or so copious a fund of virtuous entertainment. Amidst all the efforts of his intellect, whether his instructions were prepared in the dress of history—or convey'd in the vehicle of fabulous narration—whether they assum'd the graver style of argumentative profundity, or whether they adopted the still deeper researches of philosophical raciocination;—their constant greatness of design was equally apparent, and the promotion of virtue was always strongly mark'd in the language of

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the writer. My dear, my regretted Hawkesworth, was indeed never long seduc'd by any temptations, or abstracted by any scientific allurements, from those views which are alone of intrinsic importance, and which he well knew, would retain that importance, when all that now flutters to the fancy, plays upon the passions, or fascinates the heart, shall confess their insignificance, and fly like the atom, that is driven before the tempest.