ecially that part
of it which I prefer so much to the history of human cunning and
human slaughter; I mean, the account of learning and of learned men.
PHIL. It is also a great favourite with me. But while I regret the
inexcuseable omission of an index to such a voluminous work, and the
inequality of Mr. Andrews's partial continuation of it, I must be
permitted to observe that the history of our literature and learned
men is not the most brilliant, or best executed, part of Dr. Henry's
valuable labours. There are many omissions to supply, and much
interesting additional matter to bring forward, even in some of the
most elaborate parts of it. His account of the arts might also be
improved; although in commerce, manners and customs, I think he has
done as much, and as well, as could reasonably be expected. I
question, however, whether his work, from the plan upon which it is
executed, will ever become so popular as its fondest admirers seem to
hope.
LYSAND. You are to consider, Philemon, that in the execution of such
an important whole, in the erection of so immense a fabric, some parts
must necessarily be finished in a less workman-like style than others.
And, after all, there is a good deal of caprice in our criticisms. You
fancy, in this fabric (if I may be allowed to go on with my simile), a
boudoir, a hall, or a staircase; and fix a critical eye upon a recess
badly contrived, an oval badly turned, or pillars weakly put
together:--the builder says, Don't look at these parts of the fabric
with such fastidious nicety; they are subordinate. If my boudoir will
hold a moderate collection of old-fashioned Dresden China, if my
staircase be stout enough to conduct you and your company to the upper
rooms; and, if my hall be spacious enough to hold the hats, umbrellas
and walking-sticks of your largest dinner-party, they answer the ends
proposed:--unless you would _live_ in your boudoir, upon your
staircase, or within your hall! The fact then is, you, Philemon,
prefer the boudoir, and might, perhaps, improve upon its structure;
but, recollect, there are places in a house of equal, or perhaps more,
consequence than this beloved boudoir. Now, to make the obvious
application to the work which has given rise to this wonderful stretch
of imagination on my part:--Dr. Henry is the builder, and his history
is the building, in question: in the latter he had to put together,
with skill and credit, a number of weighty parts, of which
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