and have clothed his thought in the language of transcendental metaphysics rather than of the old theosophy. He was no mere dreamer or word-maker. If to his contemporaries he seemed to be talking mere jargon, later critics have thought that his position showed a real insight into the intellectual deficiencies of the time. But, in any case, he was, as Gibbon declares, 'a wit and a scholar'; had not his mind been 'clouded with enthusiasm' he would have been one of the most agreeable authors of the day; and his portraits in the Serious Call are 'not unworthy of the pen of La Bruyère.' These compliments from Gibbon are significant. Neither Law nor Byrom were contemporaries of Addison and Pope for nothing. However far they were from the ordinary tone of religion and philosophy, they could both mix in the society of the day, and write as brightly and observe as keenly as the ordinary frequenter of clubs and coffee-houses. Their mysticism was not mere muddle. They show that a man may have the sparkle and clearness of the wits of Queen Anne allied with a steady flow of sweet and tender sentiment.
Byrom had already shown his fitness to be a disciple of Law. One of his pleasantest copies of
